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skysquid22 · 4 months

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Came to a revelation about Daigo’s character while I was half awake.

His anger is a massive part of his character and the fact he is/seems so controlled and mellowed once he’s Chairman is a bit of a testament to Kiryu’s power to inspire others (look at Mine and Hamazaki). But I think that anger is always there, no matter how we see Daigo. The Fudo Myo-o tattoo alone represents a deity who, in one translation, has a name meaning ‘Violent Wrathful One’ and slays ghosts and spirits with his fierce anger. Chosen for Y2 Daigo because of his position to be a leader someday and his anger, despite on the surface him embodying apathy more at the start. Kiryu is the one that forces him into a more active position and their first goal working together is making peace with with the Omi, but Daigo the entire time lashes out. He constantly fights Ryuji to varying degrees of success and later I think the more powerful display of anger comes out against Koji Shindo, the second Nishikiyama patriarch.

Murder undeniably is a pretty big deal to the main characters of these games and practically is the linchpin to the plot of 0. Y1 and Y2 don’t treat as serious because different writing at the time but nonetheless I’m going to meta-ize the fact that Daigo outright kills Shindo. He shot him to disarm him for aiming to kill Yayoi then shot him dead after yelling at him for nearly fucking over the Tojo Clan and probably also likely as revenge for Shindo forcing himself upon his mom. The only reason he doesn’t shoot him more despite the second shot being a death blow is because Kiryu steps in to curb his anger (pull his gun down and shake his head).

[More under the cut.]

Before Kiryu kicks his ass out of apathy, Daigo was in the midst of a decade long struggle to come to terms with his father’s death, the majority of the time where he believed his hero had done the deed. He had to have been pissed off beyond compare and had no way to come to terms with it directly so he burned off his rage like many men in the series—getting into stupid fights. His impulsiveness got him into the set up by Ryuji, landing him in jail for five years. Even before all this, going back to Y0, he’s being a brat because he’s angry over no one treating him like a person, only as the son of the patriarch. His father was neglecting him because of his job and considering that Yayoi was active enough in the Clan to be the acting Chairman, she was probably in the same boat of neglect. Kiryu, his only friend basically, got kicked out of the Clan and yes Daigo says that it’s no reason for him and Kiryu to not hang out again he does phrase it as a question. At the very least, he’s unsure and worried that he’s going to be alone. It makes sense he decides to get apathetic about it and not care who wants to be his friend, but that apathy comes from his anger over feeling trapped in a situation.

People shit on Daigo a lot for making bad decisions but I think his decision making skills comes from two sources. Trying to be like Kiryu and trying to not let his own anger fuck over the situation, as the times before where he’s done that has either made the situation worse for himself (hating fake friends but giving into fake friends bc he’s lashing out) or he killed someone for it. That has to be hanging over his consciousness, or at least I’m going to treat him like it does with how the rest of the series treats murder. Kiryu being his hero sets up a lot of shitty actions on Kiryu’s part that Daigo follows because of course he will it’s Kiryu (who in fairness does help him sort his shit out it just also comes with consequences). Regardless of Daigo coming to honor the job of Chairman or not, it was a shitty thing to push the responsibility of the job from Kiryu to Daigo. Daigo needed direction at the time and it’s not a stretch to say that Chairman would’ve been a fit for him (and Kiryu ended up being right), it wasn’t what Daigo was looking for at the time. He didn’t need or want or care for the Tojo Clan until Kiryu knocked some sense into him. I’m arguing both sides here because Kiryu’s decision worked out well, but it was still a shitty decision since Daigo was pushed into taking the role at the start. Responsibility trumps over personal wants. As the series goes on, Daigo still looks up to Kiryu, but actively looks to him for advice on how to handle the Tojo Clan. Again it’s a situation that makes sense from both sides.

Daigo’s job is to lead the Clan, he can’t rely on Kiryu’s council or leading hand as he did for him during Y2. It’s a distance that Daigo has to learn to establish. I’m not saying it’s bad that Daigo makes exceptions for Kiryu, but it is to be reliant on him. This was sort of a crux in Mine’s argument in Y3–that the Tojo Clan had priority over Kiryu, especially considering that Kiryu was no longer in the Clan. The massive core to this back and forth argument (how much should Kiryu help Daigo out) is the fact that Kiryu was the Fourth Chairman. He had just as much responsibility to the Clan as Daigo does and while Daigo chooses to lead, Kiryu passed the buck to Terada (which lets be honest was the most short-sighted and one of the stupidest decisions on his part). It flatly comes across as Kiryu not wanting to take the responsibility of his position and that reasoning influences every single interaction with Daigo from then on. Yes, Daigo is a sound choice to become Sixth Chairman, yes also Kiryu did it because he didn’t want to take responsibility to be Chairman himself (hi Mine, you were right on this). Yes, Daigo needed to not rely on his hero, a person he idolized so much despite spending nearly a decade confusingly hating, yes also Kiryu should’ve given him council when requested because it would’ve likely helped the situation more than hurt it and also it kept the connection between them. Daigo saw Kiryu as a friend when he had none, then as his fallen hero, then back to being his hero for saving him from his own self destruction tendencies, then… that last part stagnates. Kiryu’s connection to Daigo when he’s Chairman is distant and not at all close. Considering the reaching out efforts Daigo makes, it makes more sense that Daigo is the one with the father complex upon Kiryu and not the other way around. Kiryu never reaches out to Daigo for anything other than Work(tm) and even then it’s only out of a response to more external pressures AND after Daigo tries to reach out. His letter to Kiryu comes as a result of reuniting with Haruka in Y6, it’s not much of his own resolve to reach out naturally.

All of this is to say—how could Daigo not be incredibly angry? During his time as Chairman he seems composed, slipping out into normal anger or being worried since he’s struggling with the job, but considering his former displays of anger up to that point I think it’s a miracle Daigo didn’t have a midlife crisis and cracked. He has to be full of rage, but managing to keep it under wraps because appearances are important. His life has always revolved around what others have expected for him, never once getting a say in what he wants to do from the start. Instead of his hero worship snapping, he clung even harder to it to make up for the fact that he had no one else to turn to. His same hero writes him a letter after his death about how he saw him as a son to him despite only being there for him when it was convenient and also when it also served to benefit himself. (Some dad, huh…) I want to see Daigo angry at Kiryu, I want him to grow outside of the garden Kiryu made for him.

#yakuza #rgg #daigo dojima #kiryu kazuma #yakuza 2 #yakuza 3 #not saying what Mine did was right but he was spot on about Kiryu #makes sense really he listened to Daigo talk about Kiryu and his worries and got angry on his behalf #so I guess in some way part of the instigation of getting Kiryu to come into the plot for Y3 was Daigo being angry with him #skyspeaks

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totallyshattered · 1 year

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Lani wasn't always a vacant fuck toy dressed up to titillate her owner.

Her name had been Alana, and she'd been a lawyer once. The memory of it was distant, but she was pretty sure she'd been a good one.

And she'd been ambitious, too. She wanted to be the youngest partner in her firm's history. To do so she got herself attached to the only woman partner in the firm.

Maxine Mason had a reputation for ruthlessness, efficiency, and style. She was also a well-known control freak, micro-managing everything. But Alana just HAD to learn from the best.

When Alana met with the mature redhead, she told Maxine thay she'd do anything to learn from Maxine.

Maxine, or 3M as the other partners usually referred to her (none of the juniors or associates knew why), had only smiled slyly at her before replying, "Thats what they all say. Now let me have a look at you."

Alana hadn't expected that but stood and allowed Maxine's eyes to roam over her. She awallowed and shivered slightly as she almost physically felt those keen eyes upon her.

"Very well," said Maxine. "But, you will do as I say at all times. Any resistance, and I will discard you. Do you understand?"

Alana had gulped, "I understand."

That had been the start of Alana's descent.

----------

The first thing changed were her clothes. Maxine had said, "Put them off balance by always being the sexiest person in the room." It would have sounded strange of Maxine herself hadn't embodied that belief at all times.

So, flats became 3" heels, pants became pencil skirts with stockings, and Alana's blouse was always open one extra button to reveal the lacy bra underneath matched by her panties, as Maxine had insisted.

Maxine had also insisted on inspecting Alana every morning. Maxine checked every detail, checked every piece of clothing to make sure it was high quality, and ran her hands up and down the stockings to check the seams and for runners.

Maxine would viciously critique anything that didn't meet her standards. It was humiliating, but Alana's ambition wouldn't be denied.

So the clothes became more and more sexy and higher quality, and the inspections continued. Maxine would still degrade her, mostly, but Alana yearned for the rare compliments she did receive.

She would even dream about Maxine's hands caressing her, telling her how good she was doing, how doing as she was told would please Maxine and help Alana be better.

Beyond the clothes, Maxine worked Alana day and night. Alana was Maxine's paralegal, personal assistant, secretary, messenger, and gofer all at once. Waiting on Maxine at work, with clients, even at home became the norm.

The overwork and lack of sleep was taking its toll. Sometimes, she found herself zoning out while Maxine was giving her instructions or dictation.

Maxine would scold Alana relentlessly, calling her stupid, irresponsible, worthless, or the worst, bad girl.

That last insult ate at Alana like no other for some reason she didnt understand. She wasn't a bad girl, she knew she was a good girl. She was trying so hard to please Maxine so Maxine would help her.

It was taking longer to remember why she needed Maxine's help beyond just receiving approval. She wanted to be a... a... partner, right. That was it.

She seemed to be doing so little legal work now. She hadn't represented a client in months, just helped Maxine doing whatever Maxine needed.

The first time Maxine demanded a foot rub, was the only time she ever hesitated to do as she was told.

Maxine's rage was terrible. She grabbed Alana by the hair, and spat, "Worthless bitch, I told you that you had to obey EVERY request I make. EVERY ONE." She released Alana, who collapsed to the floor sobbing. "You should feel fucking ecstatic that I didn't tell you to lick my fucking toes. Now do as you're told, and if you hesitate for even a half a second, I will fire you and ensure you never work in another firm in this state."

Alana obeyed.

-‐--------------

Any remaining hint of law-related work ceased after that. Maxine explained that it was Alana's punishment for disobedience.

Moreover, Alana was demoted from Associate to Assistant. Maxine told Alana that she kept her job only by Maxine's generosity. Alana thanked Maxine for letting her continue to serve Maxine and promised to be better for her.

Maxine grinned evilly at that point, and beckoned for to come around the desk. She grabbed Alana by the blouse and forced the assistant to her knees. Then Maxine leaned back, pulled up her own skirt, and pulled aside the black thong underneath.

"Well," began Maxine, "We know you're fucking worthless as a lawyer and masseuse, let's see if you can even eat pussy correctly."

Alana didn't hesitate, she shuddered at even the thought, and she dived into her boss' muff. She had no experience except her own, but she knew what felt good and threw herself into it enthusiastically.

Maxine's moans seemed to indicate she was doing well at this at least. "Oh, that's it you stupid fucking girl, eat my cunt. I knew you had to be good for something. "

Maxine ground Alana's face further into her pussy, Alana felt drunk from praise and lack of oxygen, and absorbed every word.

She never realized her own hand had sneaked up her skirt until Maxine exclaimed, "Oh, you filthy little whore, diddling your own pussy while eating your boss out. I knew you were defective, but not this broken."

Maxine wrapped her legs around Alana's head pulling her in further. "I'm gonna cum all over your face, slut. Lick it up!!!" She groaned.

After she came down, Maxine smirked down at Alana's drenched face and smudged makeup. "Hmm, Alana is a too nice a name for a ditzy, cunt-licking bimbo like you," she mused. "Lani is better. That's your name, now. Say, 'Thank you, Ms. Mason.'"

"Thank you, Ms. Mason," Lani replied before the shame triggered her own orgasm.

-----------

Lani's uniform continued to get sluttier as Maxine showed off her favorite toy. Higher heels, shorter skirts, tighter blouses, more makeup, and a honey blond dye job. She looked every bit the slutty assistant, now.

Lani was so grateful that Ms. Mason was improving her.

Ms. Mason even generously agreed to pay for lip fillers and EE implants. She said that it would reflect badly on her and the firm if the assistant to one of its highest ranked partners didn't look like a piece of fuck meat at all times.

But Ms. Mason was still so demanding.

It was so hard to complete tasks on time when you had to miss a call because your tongue was in your boss' ass.

And taking dictation while riding a 10" dildo made it so difficult to concentrate.

Getting messages delivered in a timely fashion when every few minutes, your boss used her remote app to activate the vibra-egg in Lani's panties, causing Lani's legs to wobble or even give out altogether.

And Ms. Mason always had a punishment ready. Spankings while reciting mantras about being a better fuck doll., or anal bead training followed by plugging, while thanking her boss for making her a better bimbo were the most common.

----------

Finally it was performance evaluation time.

Ms. Mason told Lani the bad news while fucking Lani's ass with a strap-on and with the helpess bimbo bent over the reception desk.

"Very dissatisfactory performance. Immediate termination recommended," read Ms. Mason.

Lani couldn't help but cry despite the bliss of having her ass pounded. She was such a dumb, slutty, bimbo, she couldn't do anything right. Now what was she going to do?

Ms. Mason smiled, guessing the toy's thoughts. She stroked Lani's hair and said, "It's okay, I'm going to take care of you. You're going to come live with me as my personal fuck slave, now."

Lani beamed, "Really, Ms. Mason?"

"Mistress," 3M corrected. The nickname suddenly made sense to Lani.

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."

"Yes, my lovely, silly little slut," she cooed. "You may be a defective, stupid, broken excuse for a lawyer, but you are an excellent fuck pet, now, so I will keep you. "

-----------

Mistress took Lani home that night. All Lani's things were already there since she'd been sleeping over at night for months before she was fired to better serve Mistress.

Mistress had already negotiated the broken lease, relocation of anything worth keeping, Lani's name change, and everything else.

Lani loved mistress so much, she was such a smarty, and Lani was a dummy.

Lani was given a little bed to sleep on at the foot of Mistress big bed so she would always be available to serve.

Finally, Mistress smiled at Lani, and told her, "You're such a good fuck pet. Here's your collar like a proper slave."

Mistress collared Lani, and put a little lock on the front to make sure it would never come off.

"Mistress loves you, Lani. "

Lani hadn't always been a silly, stupid, bimbo fuck toy, but she was happy that she would be for the rest of her life.

#mind conditioning #breast expansion #dom/sub #praise and degredation #wlw love #bimboization

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the-courage-to-heal · 9 months

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A personal message:

About a month ago I attempted to take my life. I took an overdose of dose of pills intentionally. I want to share the story of what I went through. When I arrived at the hospital a nurse told me I could keep my phone “if I didn’t cause trouble” I called my Mom and softly cried. I was told

“I thought you said you wouldn’t cause any trouble”

I came to realize trouble meant making any noise. I immediately offered to quiet myself. That wasn’t good enough. I was told that I was not allowed to have access to my cell phone anymore. Despite the fact I apologized for crying, and immediately said I understood and would quiet myself.

The nurse advanced on me and attempted to wrestle my phone from my hands. Apparently you are allowed to physically assault somebody if you are a nurse. I want to emphasize all I did was offer to quiet myself immediately. I apologized for crying. That wasn’t good enough.

By this point I was incredibly triggered. I said I wanted to leave, and for good reason this is obviously not something you can do after attempting suicide. They were right to call in people to restrain me. However, these people would have never been called in if the nurse had shown me a shred a basic human empathy, decency and kindness. she enjoyed inflicting pain upon someone who was vulnerable.

What was wrong was them continuing to restrain me to the point I was severely bruised. I can only document in photographs what was done to me.

I fought at first, but very quickly submitted. A man held my face down into the mattress. I told him I couldn’t breathe. He kept holding my face down until I was hyperventilating, and about to pass out. I kept saying I could not breathe. They didn’t believe me until I was hyperventilating and in the process of suffocating. I was genuinely terrified they were going to suffocate me. Right when I was about to lose consciousness they finally released me.

However, my torture was not done. They tied my hand up above my head. I explained they were tearing muscles. I spent at least 10 minutes sobbing and begging them to tie me up n a way that wouldn’t physically harm my body.

They finally relented when I pointed out that tying a persons head above their arms was a form of torture that the Romans inflicted upon people they crucified. That is what it took for them to stop torturing me. They could have done whatever they wanted to me.

I heard the same nurse abusing another patient the next morning. She told a man involved in a drunk, driving accident.

“Your problem is at the bottom of a bottle”

I looked at the nurse who was watching over me and said,

“That is cruel, they are mentally ill. Their problem is that their pain is now hurting other people. Not at the bottom of a bottle.”

That is beyond cruel. She might as well have told him to kill himself and make the world a better place by decreasing the surplus population. I met somebody who is the living embodiment of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

If I learned anything from this experience, it is that strength has to come from within yourself because nobody will give a sh*t if you don’t care about yourself. People use you, and abuse you when you are most vulnerable.

“Help” exists for those who can pay for it. Everyone else is just surplus clogging up the system.

I have not posted a photo of myself for a very long time. I have been overwhelmed. I have neglected this blog. But I want to use my voice so other people can hear what I went through and maybe it will help them to continue going when all hope seems lost. The United States has an appalling system, that punishes the mentally ill. People dealing with suicidal ideation are human beings. They are no less deserving of respect and kindness. The most fragile among us deserve the greatest protection. Not to be feasted on by crows pecking at their corpse. I hope at the very least I have created a safe space with this blog.

#emotional abuse #narcissistic abuse #healing #self help #npd #narcissistic personality disorder #post traumatic stress disorder #ptsd

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raayllum · 1 year

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The Cycle Speculation

So I was thinking about this post in regards to the cycle restarting and how TDP loves to parallel structures with escalation of stakes amid differing scenarios with similar dilemmas, and it got me thinking about how the Cycle has been perpetuated over the centuries / course of the show thus far, and the commonalities between the objects/spells used, and well...

Let’s strap on our thinking caps and wheel out a conspiracy board, which is to say: tracking spells, generational parallels, the symbolism of the Heart in TDP, and how I think the Cycle will be perpetuated in S5 / S6 - and possibly how part of it began, re: Aaravos and the Key. AKA my torment is over and I think I may have, honest to God, figured out what the Cube is and how it could be used thematically and plot wise going forward.

Tracking spell

So tracking spells are surprisingly important in TDP. They don’t seem to be at first glance, as often times the main trio are just wandering along until they find the right spot, or are embedded more generally into their world’s geography than anywhere extremely specific (most of S1, parts of S2, etc). However, tracking spells are crucial in both Claudia and Soren’s tracking spell to find the trio at the end of S1, bleeding into early S2.

We see the tracking spell repeated when Viren is searching for the magma titan, down to needing a piece of the victim (the Magma Titan, Rayla’s braid) down to the glowing jar, before finding the exact Titan the piece was from.

This journey, of course, sets off the death of the three queens, most notably Queen Sarai, whose death causes Harrow and Viren to perpetuate the cycle further in killing Thunder. But even more than that, The same jar used in this spell also coincidentally houses Sarai’s last breath until it’s used to fell Thunder.

This of course also made me think of the Key of Aaravos, which according to Callum’s Spellbook and featuring screencaps from the show, is routinely being pulled somewhere, leaving the same lines in the sand every time. Upon reaching Xadia, the marks got longer, although it is not clear exactly what direction they are in. We do know that the rolling of the cube always ends with the Star rune being faced most directly.

Which is to say: the previous things we’ve seen pulled rather unknowingly have all been parts or pieces of a previous tracking spell, and beyond that, ordinarily symbols of love. Rayla’s braid symbolized Ethari’s love and affection for her; the piece of the Magma Titan allows for its home to be invaded and for it to be murdered; Sir Sparklepuff is able to lead his strange new little family to Rex Igneous through an innate sense of knowing from Aaravos, and is clearly a part of Aaravos as well. Which goes to support that whatever the cube is, it is, or holds, a piece of whatever it is being pulled to, most likely Aaravos himself (after all, it is his Key and unlocks something in Xadia). But more on that later.

For now, let’s look at the generational parallels.

Viren, Harrow, Sarai / Callum, Ezran, Rayla

At first glance, it is very easy to slot the kids just into a single generational role, which is to say: Viren-Callum as high mages and brothers to the king; Harrow and Ezran as the actual brother kings; Rayla and Sarai as a compassionate moral through line. However, I don’t think it’s quite that simple for a number of reasons.

I’ve touched on it before, but all three kids are very much Harrow split down the middle and then some, each embodying and amplifying certain aspects:

Rayla carrying on Harrow’s martyr complex and hope for redemption / wanting to make a difference; by and large, personality wise she is the most similar. More in depth parallels here if you are interested, as well as the theme of what’s worth dying for

Ezran of course has Harrow’s responsibilities as king, but where being king was ultimate an experience of chains and a lack of freedom, Ezran is a child king and finds genuine liberation in his work. He is also the direct manifestation of Justice, paralleling Harrow’s assertion that “Above all else, I must be a Just king”

Callum wrestles most directly with the theme of Freedom in relation to Harrow, specifically the freedom to make choices and give up the temptation with Dark Magic. More discussion regarding this here. Callum also gets Harrow’s emphasis on fairness (in relation to justice, but also as its own thing thematically, re: fair opportunity within the system outside the accident of birth)

Additionally, Rayla has plenty parallels with Viren as well, with Ezran perhaps best embodying Sarai’s appeal for personhood: “Does it think? Does it feel? Does it have a family?” Furthermore, Callum also has parallels to Sarai; he really is his mother’s son.

But like, what’s the Point of all this? If there’s so many and Viren, Sarai, and Harrow all had specific places in perpetuating the Cycle largely in spite of their best efforts (Viren hoped by killing Zym that “all of this will finally, truly be over”) than how does this impact the current trio, thematically?

Going into S4 and in terms of behaviour / choices, Callum undoubtedly has the most in common with Viren and Harrow, specifically Viren with his loved ones (“I have always been ready to do anything to protect my family, however dangerous, however vile”) and being generally fine with the concept of dying to protect them, not necessarily out of any sense of rightness the way Harrow did. Callum’s S4 arc also mirrors Harrow’s arc in 3x06; trying to move on and focus on peace, while being undeniably angry and furious over the loss of someone he loves. So he’d be Viren-Harrow in about that order.

Rayla has likewise become more like Viren (willing to leave those needing help behind in 2x06 / 4x05), although her parallels to Harrow from the previous seasons are so strong I think they overrule. Additionally, her hair style is an exact match to Sarai’s old hair (the braid-bun combo, the three piece over her cheeks, etc) as well as her place in Callum’s life as a cautious moral through line. Moreover, her and Sarai’s pictures alone are hung up closely together. While we haven’t see this set of parallels come to fruition yet, I think we may in S5. So I’d place her tentatively in Harrow-Sarai.

Last but not least, we have Ezran, who I think is thematically embodying Sarai-Harrow with blessedly none of Viren, trying to carve a better path forward even if he feels in over his head, even if it will be exceedingly difficult, and even if it will take “decades of hard work”. He knows that there’s no monster he can slay to solve all his problems and unlike Rayla, he is not going to try.

So loosely, we either have Viren-Callum, Harrow-Rayla, Sarai-Ezran, or Viren-Callum, Sarai-Rayla, and Harrow-Ezran. Just as Arc 1 was about correcting and making up for their parents’ mistakes, it seems that Arc 2 is well underway to be about trying to make up for their own mistakes (Ezran ignoring anger, Callum trying to ignore his, Rayla leaving and more). Which is to say: all of this has happened before and all shall happen again.

Haunts The Very Heart of Xadia

Hearts are kind of important in TDP. There’s the repeated motif, used most commonly but not exclusively by Rayla, of a hand or first to the heart, also employed by Callum, Ezran, Viren, Terry, and many others. Most often this is in the context of a loved one or reaffirming pain / a decision to make.

However, it goes deeper than that. (Illusion) Viren and Avizandum are both stabbed directly in the heart (“That was her spear, my mom’s, and my stepdad put it into his heart”) which is particularly apt given it was revenge for killing “the love of King Harrow’s life, Queen Sarai.” This moment is also directly harkened back to in the majority of the S4 openings, although Callum’s, which could have been very different, also features his own more Star magic-y stone spell beginning in his heart.

There is also Ezran’s big speech from 4x03 that invokes the heart specifically as a call to action and compassion, stating:

It’s not that easy or simple. Because people are still hurting and they are still angry. We can’t ignore that, or pretend it will go away. Somehow, we have to hold it all in our hearts at the same time. We have to acknowledge the weight of the pain and loss, but open up our eyes and allow ourselves to hope and maybe forgive and love again. We have to give today’s children a chance to inherit a future filled with peace. To give them that, we have to hold pain and love in our hearts at the same time.

Which, one of S4′s big theme in particular is set up and discussion of when to, and when is it possible, to reconcile dualities, but more on that later.

The character most closely tied to this theme of Heart, in many ways, though is Rayla, from the very first episode.

My Heart for Xadia!

Your heart isn’t hard enough to do whatever it takes.

[To Ezran] You have a good heart. It’s super annoying.

Before you left, I told Runaan you were too good hearted for the work of an assassin.

You have true courage, and a big heart.

My only allegiance is to my heart and those that know it. (Tales of Xadia bio)

I remember how I felt when my parents left me to join the Dragonguard, like PART OF MY HEART WAS MISSING and I would never feel right again. (Dear Callum letter)

Please don’t let this hurt too much. But, if it does—if you feel that soft aching—know that that piece of your heart isn’t missing. It’s not missing at all, Callum: I’m carrying it with me! Always. (Dear Callum letter)

One of the most critical things S4 did was establish Rayla’s importance in the future outcome of Callum being possessed by Aaravos. Both that she will likely be what helps him ultimately break out of it, but moreover that she will do so at great possible cost. This comes back to “You let him live but you killed us all” and the possible consequences of sparing Callum at any cost, in a classic Duty VS Love conflict. Additionally, it also pushes Rayla precisely into the position and role she was supposed to fill after a season of belief that “We can’t save everyone” and being taunted by Aaravos, specifically, that she was incapable of killing. So it’s going to hit doubly if it becomes one of her cornerstone conflicts next season.

But wait, as I always say, there’s more.

Rayla identifying her parents and herself as a missing piece of her and Callum’s hearts, respectively, as opposed to the implied entire heart exchange between Runaan and Ethari (“My heart goes out with this one”) struck me as interesting, particularly when it’s the only time we’ve seen that separate signifier is in Rayla’s letter itself. So I was thinking about Rayla, and Rayla-Aaravos parallels per usual, and how the Cube glows a pure white in the 4x04 intro, just like the falling star when it makes the proper side Star sigil in the “Mystery of Aaravos” typography, as well as a remark from TDP’s head writer Devon that the Key may not be exactly what we think/thought it is, and...

I think the Key may hold Aaravos’ missing chest piece—a literal missing piece of his heart.

This is for a few different reasons. The first is that we know Aaravos had his chest piece in the 1x01 intro, and at one point he lost it. The intro appears to happen during the exiling of the humans, but it’s hard to tell whether that’s actually accurate given the singularity of the framing. If not for it, I’d say he put it in the Key to give to the human founder of Elarion as an act / presentation of love, that predates the fall of Elarion and subsequent expulsion (although we’ll return to her/them in a minute).

Although it would be tempting to say definitively that he lost it at the Fall of Elarion, Aaravos still walked Xadia for centuries, and the intro we see him in seemingly belongs to this, and he did not leave with the other Startouch elves. Zubeia frames it as though he was a Star until his treachery was uncovered and not that he Fell prior but was accepted past that point regardless. We also know that Aaravos isn’t at his full strength inside the mirror, even though the Star arcanum is all about time and space, and it’s hard to tell how his powers have been restricted otherwise. With all that in mind, it’s far more likely Aaravos was at his full power until Zubeia and the other archdragons /accomplices surprised him, ripped his heart out, and then tossed him into the mirror. Therefore, it means that it isn’t the mirror or its dimension necessarily keeping him restricted, but the fact the piece of his arcanum - his quasar diamond - was taken from him in the first place and its resulting physical / magical effects.

This makes sense for a few reasons.

A villain who is literally heartless is very juicy symbolically

Light has also been associated with bad things across the series, not solely good things (the specific Sunfire staff test of the Light to decide your fate for example)

Not only is Aaravos currently terrifying, but reclaiming his heart piece in some capacity would either 1) put him at full power, 2) allow him to get himself out of the mirror past that point on his own, or 3) both

Aaravos’ prison itself is surely powerful, but Aaravos himself is ultimately even more powerful and at this point, the most powerful character in the show:

As well as having multiple layers of thematic precedent. There is Aanya’s ring, also featured in this episode, given to Harrow and then passed onto Aanya after her mothers’ deaths, kept inside a sealed six-petalled flower, just as Harrow passes the six sided cube down to Harrow.

Then, there is also the fact we know, thanks to interviews, that a lot of Aaravos’ actions are motivated by a relationship/bond he had eons ago, presumably with a human and more specifically, the human founder of Elarion. If he loved this human deeply (particularly romantically, due to his short birthday story featuring being given an apple by a human, which is a very loaded symbol and almost always used for romance) and losing her/them is part of what motivated him to begin his thousand year long manipulation play, his heart would undoubtedly be a very important symbol. We’ve seen numerous characters to questionable or vile things for their loved ones or in the name of revenge (Viren with his family; Harrow using dark magic to avenge Sarai). Aaravos doing all of this out of a long broken heart would be very thematically in line, a heart that now only feels pain rather than love.

We also know, pretty blatantly, that Egyptian mythology has been an influence on the series (Ibis’ name and association with Callum; the centre of an ankh being a mirror and a diamond, just like the quasar diamonds). One of the traditions in Egyptian mythology was holding up a dead soul’s heart and weighing it against Ma’at’s Feather of Truth. If it was heavier than the feather, you were wicked and condemned. This makes the Orphan Queen holding it (whether it would eventually contain or already did contain) fall in line, as we get this voice over from Zubeia regarding the moment Aaravos’ treachery came to light and the truth was discovered:

This would mean then that the Key is both a key of Aaravos’ jail and a piece of Aaravos - a double meaning, a double key, related to its prisoner and its owner. It would fall perfectly in line with everything we’ve learned about the Key up to this point as well as its symbolism and foreshadowing while building on it with some twists and even higher stakes than we already had.

There would also be a few layers of delicious irony.

First, we’ve seen that dark magic has limits that it cannot overcome on its own, but presumably can with Aaravos’ help. Thereby, more than being offered unlimited power solely from dark magic in Callum’s 2x08 dream, he’s being offered unlimited power because of the Key as well. There’s also Callum holding what would contain a quasar diamond in the first place while literally asking if there is no gem for Star magic, not knowing that he has one in the very palm of his had (“Having knowledge isn’t the same as knowing knowledge” after all).

Last but not least, there is the fact that concept art of Aaravos, shared when he was identified all the way back in S1, has his chest piece being far more akin to a literal diamond than even the upside down Star arcanum it holds now.

Then, another factor I would be remiss not to mention because 1) I’m me and 2) it could be a very cool connection is that if the Key is indeed Aaravos’ missing piece, it makes this shot of Rayla when she re-enters Callum’s life in 4x02 all the more meaningful and make all the more sense in its framing.

While the framing is pretty blatant, given that Rayla is literally haloed in light seconds after Callum was saying, “In darkness, gaze upon a Fallen Star.” It clearly indicates that she is tied to this plot line of ‘darkness’ (which 4x07 confirms with “I need you to kill me [...] what if I’m on a path of darkness?” “Then take another path dummy”) even before it truly ‘begins’ in an inciting incident sense. So far so good, very straight forward. But even when seeing this for the very first time I wondered, why the fuck is the cube there? Because it absolutely doesn’t need to be. There were plenty of other scenes (like the one immediately preceding it for example) or times where Stella making the Star primal glow could’ve be shown. Especially since in the above shot many people are bound to be distracted by Rayla’s return and new appearance and not even paying attention to the cube held by her little monkey.

But, if the cube is the missing piece of Aaravos’ heart, and Rayla, as we’ve already said, is canonically / has identified herself as the missing piece of Callum’s heart, well, placing them together to foreshadow this specific importance of the cube makes a lot more sense. It’s a still a bit of a stretch right now because it requires reading Rayla’s letter, which is decidedly additional supplementary material, but the supplementary material is routinely used to foreshadow things exactly like this (Rex eating a jelly tart for example) so it also wouldn’t be out of line. Then as always I have my theory of Rayla’s life being exchanged for the cube, which if this heart parallel is true, would just make more sense and tie a tighter parallel than the whole thing already does.

Last but not least, there is the way this brings the Magma Titan plot line back full force thematically, and I actually think this is one of the most interesting parts, if not the most interesting part, of the whole theory.

It’s been previously accepted, generally, that in spite of the personal pain and moral ambiguity in hunting the Magma Titan, its murder was a necessary evil and its personhood debatable at best (cue Harrow and Sarai’s opposing views to begin with). I always figured that the biggest way this plot line would be used thematically, beyond a good example of the Cycle and Sarai’s death, is when Viren effectively turns his own soldiers into Magma Titans in 3x07 Hearts of Cinder. He strips them and they strip themselves of their own personhood and humanity while they prepare to do the same on an untold scale in Xadia.

However, if Aaravos’ heart was forcefully ripped out against his will, it would ask the exact question I’ve always posited when trying to get people to consider the messy ethical ramifications of the Magma Titan: how sentient does something or someone have to be before this would be considered organ harvesting? Would you view the spell the same if it had the Magma Titan had been some undeniably more human, like an elf, or even an elven child? Yes, I’m sure we’ll see precisely why Aaravos truly had to be imprisoned, but I think almost anyone would feel some unease about a violation on that level, if not sympathy. (And then of course the added layers of irony of Avizandum attacking the humans and killing the queens for ripping out the heart of the Magma Titan when he did the very same to Aaravos three centuries prior, if it was indeed lost pre-immediate imprisonment / Viren being compared to Avizandum in the intro and beyond is a pin the show has to return to eventually.

A heart (Thunder’s) for a heart (Harrow’s in Sarai) for a heart (the Magma Titan). A heart (Aaravos’ for ‘Elarion’) for a heart (the cube) for a heart (Callum’s in Rayla).

We also can’t ignore the emphasis placed on childhood and games with the cube. Love is often treated or thought of as a game outside of the series (blasting “the winner takes it all” and “blank space” among many others, but mostly “love’s not a game” from Crazy Ex Girlfriend), but the concept of children’s hearts are an important part of the show’s construction of how to break the Cycle. The Book One novelization lays this out very plainly with (although I’m too lazy to grab my copy and am paraphrasing) “Children see with their hearts, not just their eyes.”

Aaravos’ childhood and possible loss of childhood innocence/idealism is definitely something we are going to explore given baby Aaravos’ prominent placement on the Mystery of Aaravos’ star chart map. Aaravos playing a game was largely absent as a motif in the first arc save for whenever Rayla would speak about the cube in seasons 1-2, with S4 cementing the motif more firmly with Aaravos himself directly. Aaravos losing his heart in that sense and any hope he had left to be something Different than what he currently is would be truly heartbreaking, and showing that you can always undo what’s been done. You may be able to take elves out of coins and a dragon egg back home to its mother, but some things are too ruined beyond repair; a heart will never fit the same ever again, literally.

The Cycle

So what does this mean, going forward?

Well, as other people have pointed out, Harrow doing dark magic to avenge Sarai is the core thing that started the current Cycle the characters had to directly overcome, with Sarai’s death both a ghost and an inspiration and likewise, Callum doing dark magic to protect Rayla is what is allowing Aaravos to control / manipulate him into playing into his hands, and we know Aaravos will ultimately be successful / Callum has to fail in some capacity, otherwise Aaravos would never get out.

Therefore if we look at it even further back to see what started the Cycle, we return to that continual violation of having your heart ripped / being heartbroken, literally or figuratively. The Magma Titan’s heart being ripped out began this portion of the cycle, so Aaravos’ heart being literally ripped out began the much earlier portion, figuratively perhaps began his spinning of the wheel a millennia plus earlier, and it being restored will begin the next.

How’s that for Consistency?

Alternatives

As always, I try to do my best not to present a theory without any alternatives, if I can think of them at the time. The other main option, it seems, would be the Key not being used / having its secrets discovered in S5, which would greatly expand its possibilities.

This seems unlikely though, given the emphasis on Ocean and Earth when it comes to unlocking the key’s secrets whenever it is mentioned, as well as the fact that Aaravos’ prison is in the Sea of the Cast Out (and possibly literally underwater to begin with). This makes the scope of what the Key could unlock far more limited because it has less seasons to maneuver.

Then there is always the possibility it unlocks the Star Nexus or something along those lines, but unless it was given to Aaravos by other Startouch elves (before he began to hate him? Or when they didn’t know he did?) its connection to him is less unclear, but not impossible. This could be something that is revealed in S5 and we don’t see the key actually used until S6, particularly if it’s Book Six: Star, but it makes me wonder why give the Key such a heavy and consistent ominous foreshadowing (again, usually with Rayla as the mouth piece), the negative associations thus far given to the game motif, and why not call it the Key of the Stars, as TDP as no problem creating things like the Corona of the Heavens when they want something to be associated with Star Magic and not our favourite evil starry elf boy.

With all this in mind, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this meta. As for the key and the theory itself, what do you think? Am I on to something, do you have your own thoughts and alternatives I haven’t considered here? Do you just want Aaravos to be Big Sad and S5 Big Dramatic? Let me know! I would love to hear them. If you are interested in more posts related to this theory, I will link my specific tag for it here in case of perusal.

And last but not least, Dragons out, peace!

88 notes · View notes

sugarwithtea · 2 years

Text

paris in the rain || pjm [1]

pairing : bookstore owner!jimin x fem!reader

genre : angst, fluff, eventual smut, strangers to friends to lovers.

rating : pg-15

series summary : you hadn't expected to run into jimin, an unusually charming guy in the midst of love and peace, in paris. but here you were, falling for a man covered in the smell of old parchment and wine while also recovering from the traumatic experiences of your past. your work stay in paris, which you had took on for a change of atmosphere, changes every nook of your life.

chap word count : 5.7k

chap warnings : swearing.

author's note : okay so its finally here !! ik this one has very less jimin in it but trust me its important to set the mood aagh!! i hope yall enjoy my first series and lmk what yall think about it hehe :)

playlist | m.list | taglist

sugarwithtea m.list | taglist form(permanent)

city of love by alexi butirskiy

m.list | next.

Walking down the street, you can't feel more ecstatic.

Work had been a bitch lately but your boss did one thing right when she gave you the task of attending some upcoming art exhibitions in Paris, and writing reviews on them for the art section of your magazine. Initially your friend Yoona was also going to accompany you, but soon the plan changed when she was assigned to visit Boseong for the tea plantation's article.

Miranda, your boss has several acquaintances in this city. One of them was going to help and guide you on your three months long stay. The breeze cut through your hair swiftly as the sun slowly started to sink beneath the horizon.

You had asked Taehyung, the said acquaintance, to meet you at the studio apartment you were going to live in, your luggage already there via helpers. Your phone buzzed to indicate a message.

Taehyung (6:02 pm) : the helpers have left and i am at the apartment.

Taehyung (6:02 pm) : it's been half an hour since i have arrived !!

Taehyung (6:03 pm) : where are you?

You (6:03 pm) : omw; I'm walking hehe.

Taehyung (6:03 pm) : seriously?

Taehyung (6:04 pm) : come quickly, it seems like it's going to rain.

You (6:04 pm) : okay, mom.

You stuff your phone back in your coat pocket and look around in awe. You had met Taehyung twice before, once when he had come to Seoul to curate some pieces for the museum he works for, and again when you both ran into each other in Japan. You were there with your company, to cover a highly anticipated gallery opening, and him as a mere spectator.

Assumably, you had shown him around Seoul for a week or so, when he was there and so, he thought it would be best if he could return the favour when you were in his city. Thus, calling him a friend would be better than calling him Miranda's acquaintance.

The sky turns a weird mix of pink, golden and grey as you turn the corner to a buzzing street. The first thing that caught your eye was the head of the Eiffel tower peeking from between two buildings and lush green trees. The setting sun casted a soft lustre upon its form and the tower looked as loving as ever.

A feeling struck your heart, ever so lonely, ever so loveless, ever so gloomy. Maybe, it was one of the reasons you agreed to come here, to heal what was broken, in a way yet, unlovable.

When you glanced at the tower's iron structure, you saw what it reflected, the city's love and a hidden form of something unexpected, misery. You relate to it. An embodiment of love, filled with eternal misery.

People loved to call you friendly, a person who could attract peers and enemies alike, easily. An everlasting smile etched on your features, always announced your presence to everyone before you could officially do it. Little did they know, or noticed but never acknowledged, that your smile never reached your eyes, lingering at your cheekbones, drowning itself in the dark circles marked underneath your eyes, if ever so lightly.

Your eyes bounce off the structure and rake your surroundings, pausing on a peculiar sign, upholstered above a small shop with no exterior decorations except for a faded poster of a bestseller book and a small open sign hanging in the glass of its brown, shabby door. The shop had none of those tell-tale ground to ceiling glass windows. Instead, old, paneled walls are taking their place.

'MIMI'S DREAM'

The sign mentioned the aforementioned words in faded cursive letters.

All the other shops in the neighborhood were decorated impressively, to attract the people. They were cleaned and maintained, giving off the vintage vibes, but still fancy.

Mimi's Dream was none of the above. It was shabby, old and gave no efforts to attract people. The door was almost hidden between the glamour of the shops next to it. An odd sight, indeed, amongst the splendor of the street overlooked by the wonder of the city.

Your pace faltered as you neared it. An unmistakable scent of coffee and old parchment filled your senses and you paused right outside the door, weighing the options of stepping inside or stepping away. The only thing visible from the small glass partition on the door was a small desk pushed up against a shelf overflowing with books.

A mop of blonde hair kept on moving at the edge of the desk. The person, whose hair they were, was crouched down behind the desk, so you could only see the top of their head, which kept on shuffling here and there. Rest of the interior was mediocre, some of the shelves were dust-laden to be honest.

The option of stepping inside weighed more on your balancing pan and thus you moved forward to push open the door when a buzzing sound stopped you.

Taehyung could have not chosen a better time to call you.

He greets you with a shout in normal Taehyung manner.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Outside Mimi's Dream."

"Outside what now?"

"It's a bookstore, Tae. What do you want?"

"You. I have places to be, Y/N. Cut the tour short and get your ass here."

He sounded livid, so fucking livid.

And, you? You were now scared for life.

In all these peculiar sights you forgot the most peculiar man ever. Him waiting for you, at your apartment had slipped your mind completely. You mumble a small 'sorry' and dash from the place towards your apartment as the gray clouds started covering the sky above you.

It was a mess.

Your apartment was a mess.

And amidst the mess, was standing Taehyung, his hair equally messy and eyes shooting daggers at you. Even though the daggers were blocked by the numerous cardboard boxes standing tall between him and the door, with him visible only slightly, his fury was well translated to you.

You picked up the small boxes at your feet, set them aside and started heading towards death personified. He was not even speaking anything, just looking at you with the expression your mom gave you when she found out you tried smoking weed. Your mom had also stared at you wordlessly, Taehyung putting you in a similar situation.

As you stood in front of him, face to face, your eyes cast down, though, he squinted his eyes at you and opened his mouth to tell you off. But, he stopped midway, snapped his mouth shut, shook his head and turned around, realizing you were already quite the disappointment for him to sour his tongue up with the words he was going to say.

Even though you knew the reason for his anger, you couldn't stop your mouth from acting up.

"What?" you spat as he faced his back to you, trying to navigate his way around your dumping ground.

"Nothing. I decided that murdering you is not worth the jail time." he said and sat down on a box, giving up his thought of going deeper in your house.

"Okay I'm sorry."

"What were you even doing for a whole hour? The route from the airport is straight and like ten minutes away on foot!" he prodded and you looked everywhere but him.

What were you going to say? A poorly decorated bookstore caught your eye and you were gathering the courage to step inside it? No thanks, you'd rather save yourself from the embarrassment. Lying always seemed like the best option for you anyway, so why not go with it.

"I thought I'd take a look around the neighborhood." you murmured, your feet being the most interesting for you at that moment.

"When I was waiting for you at this shithole?"

"I said I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd get too caught up!" you knew you were being inconsiderate but the look on his face almost made you laugh out loud.

He breathed anger, trying to subdue it by taking deep breaths. One thing you knew, you needed to make it up to him later, in some way or other as this was totally your fault.

You went forward to hug him and wrapping your arms around his torso, you mumbled into his chest

"Listen, I am so sorry, genuinely. I just got distracted by this beautiful city you live in. I promise I will make it up to you later as you had to give up your time doing nothing because of me."

"How?"

"Huh?" you looked up to him, your chin on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tighter.

"How are you gonna make it up to me?" a sly smile on his lips.

"Um, however you ask me to."

"I am going on a date with my girlfriend next week."

"Congratulations?"

"You'll be the one paying for it."

"Fuck no." you free yourself from his grasp and take a step back.

"Well then, okay. Have fun living in this city without any friends. Have fun learning French. Have fun with loneliness." he said and started moving towards the door, his lips still set in a wide ass grin.

You fucked up pretty well this time. There was no way you were going to let him go, leaving yourself to explore this city alone. He knew that, that bastard.

The only concern now on your mind was, where were he and her girlfriend going to, for a date. Knowing Taehyung, he'll probably choose some expensive place just to annoy you.

You rush towards him and quickly hold his wrist, almost tripping over a lone object on the floor.

"I'll do it."

His eyes sparkle with mischief as he looks down at you and nods his head in a way of saying, 'told you so.'

"Where are you guys going?"

"I'll let you know in three days, by Friday."

Prick. He has planned his date a week prior. It has to be something extravagant, given his expressions. You wish you don't have to spend way more than you can, you can't afford giving up a chunk of it on an unnecessary date in your first week in the city.

"You have not yet decided, have you?" you squint your eyes at him, trying your best so that he'll slip up the answer.

"Oh you'll be surprised to know that I have it all planned out. Just not for you to know yet, darling."

"Whatever." you huff and set yourself to work, him helping you around the house to arrange your stuff and settle down quickly.

Two hours later you plop yourself down on the couch now in your living room and not in a bubble wrap against the window.

"Food, food, food." Taehyung mumbles as he sits down beside you.

"Wait, I'm ordering something."

"No, there's a place down the street, it sells amazing fried chicken. I wanna eat that."

"So we are going there? You can't even stand properly Tae, how do you have the energy to walk down the street?"

"Not we, you."

"What?"

"They don't do deliveries, but they do pick ups."

You just cock an eyebrow at him without saying anything.

"What? Don't look at me like that. This is your house, it's your duty to feed your guest. And, I can wait here now, given that I have this whole couch to myself." and he proceeds to rest his head on the armrest and kicks his legs in your lap as you shrug them off almost immediately and stand up to collect your wallet.

You don't have the energy to argue with him and somewhere you still feel guilty for making him wait, though you should not as you're gonna pay for it, but you still do. That's why you proceed to do as he says.

"You are going to pay for all your sins." you grit through your teeth and dash out.

The streetlights adorned the street giving it the look of a pearl necklace.

The place Taehyung had mentioned was just five minutes away and you started trudging towards it in a slow walk as soon as you exited your building. Rounding a corner, you once again came in front of the familiar, peculiar store.

The lights outside were dim and you wanted to get a peek inside but you thought better as a previously disappointed man is already waiting for you. Still, a small smile plays on your lips as you walk past the door.

You glaze your eyes around yourself and once again delve into the feeling from before that day. You felt the hole all too well, but something told you the chatter and air of this city would help you in filling it up.

So indulged in your thoughts, you don't watch your way and bump into a wall. A soft wall. Wait, a moving wall.

Oh my god it was a person, very much alive, moving and soft.

You lose your footing and stumble back, your eyes closing for a fleeting second as you steady yourself. A soft thud follows your collision, the person dropping someone their belongings. Your face turns in a grimace as a shrill gasp leaves your mouth. The only thing then audible is a string of timid 'sorry' in a voice dipped in honey, garnished with crumbles but oh so sweet.

You open your eyes and cast your sight downwards, just to be met with a mop of blonde hair, crouching at your feet and collecting his books.

Mimi's Dream, the only thing that flashes your mind as soon as you see the all too familiar sight. He stands up, towering an inch or two above you and oh boy were you not ready for it.

He was beautiful. In a, sweep you off your feet at the first sight, kind of beautiful. His round cheeks and plump lips catch your attention. As you take his appearance in, his lips break into a shy smile, his eyes crinkling in the process.

Two crescent like eyes, with lashes dipped in night, his appearance was similar to that of a blonde Adonis. With high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, set on a pretty neck, he was too much to look at.

He handles some books in his hand and when looks at you staring at him, clears his throat, the shy smile still tugging at his lips. You soon look away and bow down, mumbling a small,

"I am sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Oh no, I am sorry. It was my fault too." he lets his voice ring in your ears softly as you meet his almost hidden eyes, due to his smile and slightly puffed, pink cheeks, due to the cold.

You let out a light chuckle with a shy it's okay and continue to stand there weirdly when he decides to break the awkward silence.

"You're a foreigner."

Your accent might have given you away or the fact that you chose to speak English instead of French for someone in Paris. Even though he looks Asian, you can never be so sure if he was brought up here or had immigrated, like you.

"Yes, I'm from Korea."

His widened eyes and the glimmer in them confirmed your assumption as he starts way too excitedly,

"Really? I am from Korea too."

Before you can even muster up a reply, a distant voice ringed in your ears.

"Jimin!" shouted a man from a few places behind you.

You swiftly turn around to look at a lean man with platinum blonde hair frayed over his forehead and lips formed into a sort of triangle. He was handsome, insanely so. You couldn't help but just stare at him. He wore printed baggy jeans and an oversized multi colored shirt, a stark contrast from the man you just bumped into.

"Yeah?" the man behind you, who you now assume is Jimin, quips with a tired voice. As if all he wanted now was to crash in his bed and not bear another second of the world moving around him.

"I'm hungry, man. Bring the books in quickly so we can eat."

"Uh, yes coming." Jimin grunts and looks at the back of your head. His stare burns the back of your head and you whip it around to look at him.

"It was nice meeting you, " he raises his eyebrows expectantly, with the softness of the freshly bloomed buds and extends a hand towards you.

"Y/N."

"Jimin." He smiles bashfully and grasps your hand in a gentle hold before letting it go and using it to better hold the books he was comically balancing with a single hand. You both giggle at the same time.

"It was nice meeting you too, Jimin." you speak and part your ways with no more words, just smiles and glances.

"Sorry once again." he calls out as you reach the corner.

"Likewise, Jimin." you quip back and turn around to find him walking backwards towards his shop, looking at you. You laugh again, "Now, go."

And with that, you disappear round the corner.

Lately Taehyung's been a little off.

You can't put a finger on the long list of reasons you have for his grumpiness. He is what you'd like to call a drama queen, over enthusiastic and overdramatic. There could've been complications at work, he could've been low by you bailing out on him constantly, maybe there's trouble in paradise, or maybe it's just one of his moods.

It had almost been a week since your arrival and you were rushing around, trying to settle yourself and your stuff in the new city. It had been overwhelming for you initially, especially when you realised many people did not speak English, and not everything was as romanticized as the books and the movies. So you were thankful when your neighbour Lily helped you out.

It had been so hectic that you were not able to meet Taehyung for almost a week. He had been trying to come up with plans to give you a tour of the city, the museums, the landmarks, the galleries, the cafes, the clubs, everything. But you were always cancelling on him due to your weary state, resorting to watching Netflix and eating to your heart's content whenever you even got an ounce of leisure time.

As a result, the man was now in one of his dramatic moods.

You were almost settled down, almost being the key word. So you decide to ask him to hangout with you. After all, he is the only one you know in this new world.

You (10:26 am) : hi. wanna hangout later?

Taehyung (10:31 am) : did the sun rise from the west today?

You (10:33 am) : shut up or I'm taking my words back.

Taehyung (10:33 am) : okay okay, sorry.

Taehyung (10:34 am) : and yes, I'd like to hangout with you, your majesty.

You (10:34 am) : my place?

Taehyung (10:35 am) : lmao no

You (10:35 am) : yours?

Taehyung (10:36 am) : be ready at 6. i'll pick u up

You (10:36 am) : and take me to?

Taehyung (10:36 am) : hell

You (10:36 am) : bitch?????

Taehyung (10:37 am) : relax, don't you believe me?

You (10:37 am) : um, no?

Taehyung (10:37 am) : good 😂

Taehyung (10:37 am) : anyways. don't cancel tonight.

You (10:38 am) : 👍🏻😒

These were the reasons why you were always scared to agree to any of his shenanigans. Always vague and increasing your nervousness, as well as dying curiosity. But at this point, you brought this upon yourself and you have to roll on with his antiques with a grudging smile.

You set your phone down on the kitchen counter and walk to the balcony of your bedroom, past your perfectly set up living area.

Your apartment had the classic, minimalistic design. A cream couch adorned the living room with a wooden coffee table and potted plants sitting atop the stools in the corner, with varying heights. A small bookshelf was pushed up against the wall and a loveseat was placed beside the window. It was small, but lovely.

Your eyes rake the expanse of the street visible from the small balcony. It was still the start of the day and people were rushing about with their morning caffeine clutched tightly in their hand and eyes cast low. Some were the exception and occasionally glanced about to absorb their surroundings or just strike up a chat with someone they know. It was a relief to see the life in the city move similarly to the one back home, yet differently.

While trying to take in the morning view from your apartment, your eyes once again fall on a particular blonde wandering the streets with his head low and hands tucked in the pockets of his trench coat. Your eyes follow his figure as he makes his way till a corner and then turns, hiding behind the blocks of buildings.

Jimin was a stranger. You knew nothing about him but his name and the place he worked at, the bookstore. Still, he kept on visiting your mind at random hours, for reasons unknown.

Your highschool friend, Gina always used to say that you thought about absurd things, your curiosity working it's way towards topics you have no relation to, at all. She was true, ofcourse. For right now your mind was running circles around only one person, Jimin. You were charmed by his presence. You died to know more about him. You died to look at him again. And you still don't know why you gulped down your coffee hastily, changed into a presentable pair of clothes, put on your coat, grabbed your keys and left your apartment.

You might reason it as the dire need to get some books.

The overhead bell rings as you set foot inside the shop and a smiling face looks up at you from behind the counter.

He is not Jimin.

But you are very much welcomed by him.

"Hello." he speaks in a chirpy tone and you can't stop the smile etching itself slowly on your face.

"Hey." you respond and gingerly make your way towards him.

He was dressed differently today, yet so similar, donning a black sweatshirt with a big smiley on it and his platinum blonde hair still frayed at his forehead, this time his lips in a heart shaped smile instead of a triangle. His radiance bounces off the shelves filled with books, him standing out against the vintage, old backdrop of the shop.

"Good morning. I am Hoseok."

You just smile at him without giving him your name, too lost to even return the act of kindness.

"What can I help you with?" he asks, softly, to gain your attention which he realizes he might have lost.

Your mind goes blank. You had not thought that to enter a bookstore, you'll need to have an excuse. You can't walk in there without any motive. In your panic, you say the first name that comes to your mind.

"Fitzgerald."

"Ah, classic." he says with the same, kind expression and you almost sigh with relief.

His eyes glide over your surroundings and stop at a corner which makes you whip your head towards it.

It was a mess, the shelves overflowing with old hardcovers with a passage between two such tall ones. A stack of books was placed at the end of the short partition, up against the wall with some stray pages covering the ground beside it. A wooden plaque with the sign 'Fiction' hung at the entrance.

Hoseok walks over to the corner and you follow him, spellbound by the sight in front of you.

You loved books. You loved the fact that there is a form of escapism so unreal, yet so real. The prints on paper bound by hardcovers or another layer of paper give you a sense of comfort hardly anyone could provide. The life you had lived was short compared to the ones your mind, your heart had lived. It was singular, it was just one. The ones lived by your heart were multiple, they took up small places in your existence and shaped you for the singular one you had to live. Your eyes read things your life couldn't display to you in its entirety of twenty five years. You eyes read things which taught you lessons your people couldn't teach you in the entirety of your twenty five years.

You close your eyes for a fleeting second and inhale the scent of parchment rolling off of fresh coffee. You open them with a forever smile marking your features.

"You'll definitely find him somewhere over here."

You snap out of your trance at Hoseok's words and look at him smiling at you.

"Ah, thankyou. I actually moved in recently and wanted to fill my shelves with some of my faves which I had to leave at home."

His face lights up at your words.

"How's the city treating you?"

"Like it has known me for years."

"Really?"

"No."

You both laugh at him seeing right through you at your half ass lie. Of course you have loved this city, but you are still adjusting to its glamour, to its reputation. You can't say it's been treating you like an old friend, but it is definitely trying to accommodate you well.

"It's good though. I am still navigating my way through the 'parisian' lifestyle." you make air quotes around Parisian and Hoseok snickers.

"Nothing extraordinary about that. I know you'll fit in well."

"Thank you so much." and you realize you never gave him your name.

"I am Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you." he shakes your extended hand and turns towards the aisle of books in front of you.

"As I said, you must find him somewhere over here. I normally would have been able to find it out for you but Jimin recently rearranged the shelves." he says with a dent between his eyebrows and a disappointing voice, "without letting me know."

At his mention your ears perk up like a dog hearing his owner call him.

"Your co-worker?"

"More like my boss but yeah."

"Oh so this is his shop?"

"Yes, it was his grandfather's. Then his father's. And now he handles it." Hoseok looks at you with a soft glint in his eyes, as if reminiscing the days when Jimin's father used to run the store.

"Wow." is the only word you are able to conjure. This store is really vintage, it holds years of history and three generations have adored it.

"It's incredible." you look around the area in awe of it.

The interior is quite what you might have imagined it to have. The old wooden panels and worn off paint decorating its walls alluded to the overall vibe of the shop. There were numerous aisles in front of you, eac one of them had its genre mentioned on a plaque hanging at its entrance. The shelves lining the walls were adorned with statues made with alabaster or marble, displaying Greek gods and replicas of some famous pieces from the 14th century. There were blown off candles hurdled in a corner and hanging lights from the ceiling casted an incandescent glow all over the floor.

Hoseok claps his hands while looking at his desk and you immediately give him your attention.

"Okay so I'll be at the desk sorting some things out. If you need any help, just call out my name, okay?"

"Okay."

A thought suddenly strikes your mind and you turn on your heels to witness a departing Hoseok and call out to him.

"Yeah?"

"Has the name always been the same?"

He smiles and you both know the name you are talking about. A knowing look comes over his face and he raises his eyebrows a little bit.

"No, they changed it." he says and prances off casually as you wonder what might have been the shop's original name then.

When Hoseok said you'll find Fitzgerald somewhere among these shelves, he might have not mulled over the possibility that maybe you won't. Even though the thought was impulsive when you had spoken it out loud for him, you realized you really needed Gatsby and Benjamin Button to have a place on your shelf.

You had skimmed through the shelves, rather thoroughly and had failed to locate the books sitting atop them. You did find a lot of other books which always had a corner in your heart and as you moved about the aisle with the likes of Jane Austen, Orwell, Tolstoy, you wondered if you'd even find Fitzgerald among them.

You move towards the section which displays a set of books which were not dust ridden or had slightly worn off covers like the others. These had immaculately illustrated covers which used modern graphics and you know you have ventured into an area where your quest had the highest chances of failure.

Your eye catches the faded 'Romance' scribbled onto the side of a shelf and you run a finger over it, smiling at the thought that years ago a couple would have wrote it over there, or maybe the previous owners used less expensive methods of indication for the readers.

Raking your eyes over the shelves, you quickly grab a copy of One Last Stop with your free hand as you are yet to read it.

"Hoseok?" you call out and the reply is almost immediate.

"Yeah?"

"Help me, I can't find those books." you say and a soft padding sound follows as you hear his footsteps advancing towards you. He appears beside you at the end of the aisle.

"I swear to god I am going to fire Jimin."

"Yeah well good luck with that but I really can't find Fitzgerald anywhere over here." you laugh with him and both of you start your search again.

Amidst it, you try to glance out of the door and see rain pouring heavily and partially disrupting the morning buzz of the roads and adding to the eerie, peaceful vibe of the store.

Hoseok searches through the top shelves and you go through the bottom ones, removing the books and readjusting them. A while passes and almost all the books have been readjusted but your treasure hunt still didn't have any direction.

"Now only he can help you find it." Hoseok says and plops down on the floor with crossed legs and a tired stance.

"God?" you chuckle and follow suit.

"No such luck. It's just Jimin." he sighs and looks at you with his lips curved in apology and you smile a little at him.

"I am sorry this was such a mess. I swear we are better on other days."

"I am sure about that. It's just not our day today." you say and pat his arm encouragingly.

He studies you with an unreadable expression and you feel a silence sit around the both of you, comfortable enough for you to prop your chin on your folded knees pulled to your chest.

You were alone with a stranger but the rain sounds and the calm morning gave you comfort which was hard to achieve in the rush of moving in and settling down. You close your eyes for a second and realize you'll need to head home soon. Opening them with a groan you move your legs to break the peace.

"Aren't you waiting till he returns? He will be back soon."

"I want to, but I can't. I have to run some errands."

His lips form a triangle as you stand up and pat your butt to get rid of seemingly nothing. As soon as you pick up your phone which was out on the floor, the door opens, ringing the bell violently and in walks a very drenched Jimin.

"One more hour of this rain and we'll have to use boats to navigate the city." he grumbles, rather loudly and Hoseok slowly stands up as you just stare at him wide eyed.

He is wearing the same outfit you saw him in from your balcony, except his coat and hair are wet and his face carries an annoyed expression. Hoseok walks towards him with missiles to shoot instead of words.

"Boss, can you please kindly let me know where the fuck did you keep Fitzgerald after your impromptu rearrangement?" he asks with a sickly sweet smile which soon transforms into a sour face and you suppress a giggle at the look of pure horror on Jimin's face at Hoseok's sudden outburst.

He takes a second to contemplate his words and when he realizes, you watch his eyes turn into small crescents and cheeks puff up with a smile.

"Oh I have kept them in the inventory area."

"But they were old?"

"I know." and he gives no further explanation for his odd behaviour and walks up to a door at the back of the store you were just now discovering.

You and Hoseok look at each other, then at the door he disappeared to, then again at each other, trying to make sense but failing nevertheless. He returns a minute letter with a stack of books in his hands and comes to a halt in front of Hoseok while humming an old Polish tune.

It's then that he realizes of your presence in the store and turns his head towards you. Your eye catches his movement, mainly because you were staring at only him and he locks his eyes with yours.

His face changes demeanor and the nonchalant expression morphs into that of surprise, his eyes widening and body straightening up with an amused yet joyful small smile.

Hoseok looks between him and you and before he can open his mouth to ask the obvious question, Jimin speaks up.

"Y/N?"

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wholoveseggs · 5 months

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Moonlight - Chapter Twelve

A woman’s life is turned completely upside-down when she encounters some demons in the woods.

I will be putting specific warnings for each chapter as they come out, there is smut and violence in some but I'll tag those chapters accordingly.

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

1k Words - Warnings: None.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

Webs

Emma hadn't felt this insecure since she first turned, precisely the last time she saw him. She was nothing like that girl, a complete stranger to her now. But all the familiar feelings flooded in when she pictured his handsome face. To distract herself, she blasted a bombastic song and scrutinized herself in the mirror. For centuries, she had been irresistible; she could have anyone she set her eyes on, and she had. Her ass was perfect, her face even better. She was a centuries-old masterpiece, turned by a legendary original vampire because she desired it. She embodied feminine power, a deadly ornate sword.

A knock echoed at the door to her hotel room; her date had finally arrived.

"Camiii, you look absolutely stunning," Emma said as she admired her in her lavender dress that complemented her pretty green eyes.

"Says the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," responded Cami, wide-eyed as she looked Emma up and down. "Are you trying to steal the groom?" she joked.

"Is his name Elijah?" Emma asked, giving Cami a sly smile.

Cami gazed at Emma, taking in the woman before her. Shiny dark hair in perfect ringlets, stunning eyes that change color depending on the light. Not to mention the dress, the dark green silk complementing her curves and perfect skin. Cami truly meant it when she said Emma was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. But she sensed an inexplicable anxiety behind her beauty and confident demeanor. All Klaus had told her was that Emma was an old friend in town for the wedding; now, she felt there was a lot more to that story.

"No, Elijah isn't the groom," Cami chuckled, studying Emma's expression. "Is he the reason you're here?"

Emma responded with a nonchalant shrug, glancing at herself in the mirror to ensure she looked flawless. Cami observed her, debating whether she should offer a warning about the situation awaiting her.

"Just so you're aware, he's been through a lot recently. He could really use a friend if that's your intention," Cami said cautiously, careful not to betray Elijah's trust. "But if you're an ex, seeking revenge or hoping to rekindle something, it's really not the best time."

Emma didn't know what to say to that; disappointment came bubbling to the surface. What did she expect? That he would be in a happy place? Ready and willing to welcome her back into his life? They had lived many lifetimes apart, and eternity was never that kind. She stowed all these feelings away, classifying them as irrational.

"What happened to him?" Emma inquired, her eyes searching Cami's face. Cami detected genuine concern in Emma's eyes; it seemed she truly cared about Elijah.

"Well... he's sort of in love with the bride…"

Upon their arrival at the compound, Emma found it difficult to fully process the information Cami had shared. She had expected some complications involving Elijah's romantic entanglements, but what she hadn't anticipated was the intricate web of relationships. Klaus had a child? Elijah was in love with the child's mother? She was marrying someone else? Mystical werewolf alpha bonding what?

She needed a drink.

"Will you be alright on your own? Klaus needs my help with something," Cami inquired, her eyes reflecting concern; Emma had been unusually quiet since learning the truth.

"I'll be fine, thanks," Emma responded, snatching a champagne flute from a passing waiter and downing its contents swiftly, placing it back on the tray before they could retreat. With a nod, Cami departed, making her way to the second floor.

Emma ventured into the main ballroom, taking in the exquisite decorations. Her gaze drifted upward to the soft twinkling lights intertwined with the beautiful ivy adorning the walls. Sensing someone's eyes on her, she turned to find an old acquaintance leaning casually against a high table — none other than the king himself.

She grabbed another flute and approached him, clinking her glass against his, offering a sweet smile.

"Emma, how long has it been? Seventy years?" he said in his smooth voice, his hungry eyes scanning her. "How did it all work out? Now that you found them?" he asked slyly.

Emma looked young Marcel up and down, handsome and brash as ever. The last time she was in town searching for the Mikaelsons, she had crossed paths with him. Despite their striking similarities, they had opposite ideas on how to go about living.

"How did it all work out for you? I heard you lost your crown," she said, already aware of the answer.

His smile turned sickly sweet, his nose scrunching up slightly. "You seem to know a lot about me, and I know plenty about you," he said quietly, glancing around the room.

"Do tell," Emma chuckled, she loved playing this game.

"I know you are very old and at one point in time you had the entire family wrapped around your finger. They would do anything for you, including killing anyone you desired."

Emma gave him an amused look, she could tell he really needed to get that out.

"That's not entirely true; Finn's feelings about me were fairly neutral," she said, sipping her champagne while scanning the crowd, her eyes searching for the one face that mattered most to her. "What else did Rebekah tell you?"

Marcel scowled, "I don't like deadly strangers coming into my town."

"Great, I'll let you know if I see one," she retorted, preparing to leave. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back to face him. "I'm warning you, Emma," he growled.

She could crack open this child like an egg, probably without getting blood on her dress. She pictured the whole scene perfectly in her mind: his heart in hand as she declared 'the king is dead, long live the queen!'

In another lifetime she would have done exactly that, but not now, not here, not with Elijah so close. Instead she placed her hand on his, giving him a genuine look. "I understand you just want to protect your people, I promise my only intentions are to reconnect with old friends. I will not harm anyone."

"When you say 'reconnect with old friends,' you mean Elijah, right?" Marcel responded, releasing her arm and visibly relaxing. "Rebekah told me all about that too."

Emma shot him a cold look. "Wonderful," she said sarcastically.

"Listen, Emma, he's not in a good place right now. He's going through quite a lot," he said nervously, glancing up at the second-floor balcony. She followed his gaze, scanning the faces above, but saw no one familiar.

"So I've heard, specifically about his relationship with the bride. It's pretty clear that it's over, considering he's not the groom," Emma responded, desperate to end the conversation and continue her search.

"It's way more than that. Don't push it with him," he said, giving her a serious look.

"Is that an official decree from the king?" she asked sardonically.

He responded with another sickly sweet smile, "Don't say I didn't warn you,"

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

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brittanymoura · 1 year

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the heir & the emissary

Eris Vanserra x OC (estranged Archeron sister)

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Feyre sat bolt upright in a high back chair situated at one end of a long, ornate table. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and her hands folded upon the tabletop. She was the picture of calm, easy, elegance. To her left sat Rhys, covered head to toe in exquisite black garments as he reclined in his seat, occasionally picking at his cuticles as though he couldn’t be any more bored if he tried. And located just behind them, in her peripheral vision was the remainder of her family. She could see two large sets of wings and two pairs of elegantly long legs sitting stock still. She allowed herself to glance around the table, taking in those in attendance.

At the opposite end of the long table sat Kallias and Viviane acting as the hosts of this meeting. They were the sparkling embodiment of icy indifference; their hands clasped together on the table in a show of unity. To their right sat Tarquin and to his right sat Thesan. To their left sat Eris and to his left sat Helion. She allowed her gaze to swivel around the table and it did not escape her notice that still, after all this time, the table was effectively separated between seasonal and solar courts.

“I know we have been here for rather longer than I had originally hoped today so I’d like to start wrapping this meeting up soon but before we can do so, there is one more issue we need to discuss,” Kallias spoke, his gaze falling upon Eris. “As you can all see we seem to be missing two high lords and we received, frankly, suspicious letters from both of them regarding this meeting.” Kallias passed the letters along the table.

“My father has been increasingly paranoid lately and more secretive than usual. That alone is not cause for concern, given my fathers temperament but I’ve also noticed a large number of warriors being reallocated to projects I am not privy to.” Eris stated.

The letters made their way around the table and finally Feyre was able to pick one up. She read them over quickly before passing them to Rhys.

“These are nearly identical notes,” Feyre gasped. Her eyes pulled up to look across the table to Kallias and Viviane.

“Yes. It is worrisome. We can reasonably assume that they are meeting with each other but for what reason we can only guess at this time.” Viviane nodded slightly.

“I can send my Spymaster to Spring to take a look around. Maybe we can see if anything strange is going on over there. Well, beyond the obvious,” Rhys said, smirking. “Think you can get any more information from Beron?” He added, addressing Eris directly for the first time.

“I can try, though he is particularly distrustful of me lately. I’ll see what I can do.” Eris responded.

“We also have someone currently looking into the situation in Spring. She’s there as we speak so we should hopefully have some new intel soon.” Viviane spoke softly. Eris’ head snapped in her direction, flames alight in his eyes.

“You sent her to Spring?” He hissed, hackles rising in agitation. Feyre’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline as she fought to keep the surprise off her face. Rhys tilted his head slightly to the right, the only outward display that Eris’ behavior had also caught his attention. In all the years they had been dealing with Eris at this point neither had ever seen such genuine emotion out of him.

“We asked her to go and she agreed.” Viviane replied, keeping her face neutral.

He shot up out of his seat, palms flat against the table and glaring down his nose at her. “You know how she feels about that place after all she has been through. How could you ask her to go there?” Kallias was immediately out of his seat.

“Sit down Eris. You’re one step away from being out of line.” Kallias growled out. The two males stared each other down for a few more seconds before Eris brushed his hands over his chest and sat back down. Kallias was soon to follow.

What was that? Feyre reached out to the minds of her companions.

I have never, in all my years of knowing him, seen him react that way to anything. Rhys responded.

“She should be back shortly,” Kallias resumed speaking, glancing over to Eris again, “perfectly unharmed.” He then allowed his attention to fall back to the room as a whole, “I have asked a close friend and advisor of mine to take a peak around and just see what she could find. I will get what information I can from her as soon as she returns.”

Eris let out a little laugh under his breath, “advisor huh? Did she get a promotion?”

Viviane let out a small, breathy, laugh as well, “you know as well as I do that while her official title is ‘emissary’ she does much, much more than that for us.” Eris nodded, a small smile upon his lips. Feyre blinked. She could barely comprehend what she was witnessing. A genuine smile? At the thought of another? She looked back at him but found his face to be as blank as could be. Had she imagined it?

The meeting continued for a short while longer and the sun was beginning to go down in the sky by the time they had called it quits.

“Unfortunately, you cannot winnow from within the palace walls. We will need to exit to the main courtyard out front before you can pass the wards and leave. Let us walk you.” Kallias advised, standing from his seat. He took Viviane’s hand, pulling her to stand and placing a kiss upon her knuckles. They nodded to the guard stationed beside the large cedar doors and they were promptly hoisted open. The High Lord and Lady of Winter proceeded through the open doors and down the long corridor which would take them and their guests beyond the palace walls.

Behind them strode Helion, Thesan and Tarquin deep in conversation. Their heads were bent together, large grins on their faces. It was likely that they were spreading some gossip or another, as they were wont to do. Eris followed closely behind them, his hands were stuck into his pockets and his head held high. Despite his posture displaying the usual arrogant demeanor, the furrowing of his brows and downturn of his lips gave away his internal struggle.

Pulling up the rear of the group were the High Lord and High Lady of Night and their Inner Circle. None of them spoke a word but shared looks amongst themselves that screamed ‘we have so much to discuss when we get home’. Cassian had Nesta tucked into his side, one wing being used to huddle her in closer. Rhys and Feyre had their hands clasped between them, walking with Azriel and Mor hovering on either side of them.

Up ahead Feyre saw Kallias and Viviane come to a stop in the entrance to the courtyard. Though she was much too far behind to hear words she could see that they were speaking to someone. Kallias’ body blocked them from her view but she could see Viviane reach out a hand to lightly brush their arm in a motion of comfort.

The group continued to get closer as they moved down the corridor. She heard Kallias let out a small chuckle and saw him nod his head in a clear act of dismissal. Everything beyond this point happened so fast, that to this day she remains unsure if this was all a fever dream.

Eris came to a halt in front of them at the opening of the courtyard, just beyond the wards, removing his hands from his pockets, causing them to come to an abrupt stop as well so as not to crash into him. The body of a small woman stepped around Kallias and came flying at full speed through the courtyard in a sprint. Rhys stuck his arm out in front of Feyre and two sets of wings flared out around her in a protective manner, covering all three females present.

The woman approached Eris and flung herself into the air. He caught her easily around the waist, spinning in an attempt to keep them both upright. A loud squealing noise filled the air which was immediately followed by a bellowing laugh. Her arms were thrown round his neck and her face was buried in the crook of his neck as well. His eyes were closed and the brightest smile Feyre had ever seen adorned his face.

One arm remained around her waist as he lowered her feet to the floor, his other hand moving up her spine and burying itself into her pale blonde hair. She pulled her head back to look at his face, wearing an equally bright smile.

“Eris,” she breathed, “you’re here.” Feyre could see her profile and was able to catch the small tears beading in her blue-gray eyes. Eyes that were so familiar. Eyes that she saw every time she looked at her sister; every time she looked into the mirror.

“Tegan,” he looked upon her face as if attempting to memorize every inch of her. He looked up briefly, catching Kallias’ gaze. Kallias gave him a brief nod which he returned before he was swallowed up by magic and disappeared before their eyes.

#Eris #archeron #eris x oc #eris x reader #eris vanserra #acotar #the heir and the emissary

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inconspicious-random-thoughts · 19 days

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This idea just came to me but, do you think the Seven Deadly Sins (barring Lucifer for obvious reasons) originated from Roo? Asmodeus told Fizz that they've been around since Hell's birth but didn't elaborate any further due to ranting about how much Mammon sucks. With Roo apparently predating the creation of Earth, maybe she, as the Root of all Evil, was in a way the "first Sin". After Hell's formation, Roo, who likes to operate behind the scenes, created the other Sins from her essence to maintain her realm alongside the Morningstar's while she observed things from the shadows. In a way making her their mother.

I think this would be interesting because the Sins we've met in Helluva Boss so far, Mammon notwithstanding due to the sin he personifies being purely selfish, have shown to endorse the sin they embody in a healthy way that has furthered Hell's development and also condemning the more harmful aspects of their sin (with Ozzie seeing Lust as something that should be consented to & frowning upon the use of love potions and Beelzebub seeing Gluttony as something to be indulged in for the sake of fun and pleasure). This would help them differ from Roo, who I see as only indulging in the harmful aspects of the sins her "children" discourage.

Thoughts?

Hello again,

What I like about the show is that it shows "evil/sins/sinners" with heart. Its so easy to dismiss the sinners, and their sins as just evil deprive acts and they are completely heartless. But the show shows that they are not heartless. Because one didn't live a devout and virtuous life doesn't mean they are irredeemable and or not a good person deep down. It shown in the first episode non piloite Helluva Boss. The school teacher who seem like a good person, commited a crime of passion of murderous betrayal of her husband cheating on her. "she was a good a person who committed one act/mistake and she sent down to hell with the rest of the sinners like Hitler."

And quite honestly, a lot of those sinners we see can be one time mistakes then repeat offenders for all we know. But only force to harden themselves when they fell to survive Hell.

Then you have Beezelebulb and Ozzy who are Sins. Both of which want their sins to be committed "responsible" Ozzy wants his sin of lust to be committed with everyone consented. That is a sin that should be enjoyed by all parties. And Beezle wants her Sin of gluttony to be indulge without self destructive tendency but just indulge with pleasure. Which I appreciate the good hearted twist of what would normally viewed as evil. Naturally, the Sin embodiment don't necessarily get their way, sinners will continue to rape and self destruct but i'm glad the effort there.

I really hope the other three Sins will be similar. Mammon was a bit of a dissapointment. But I guess the show need some villains. The only way to have Mammon greed to be painted justly would be, he out to make as much money regardless who it hurts...to give to charity? which seems counterproductive.

But who are the Sins exactly, well I didn't put much thought into it. I was just assumed they were fallen angels as IRL lore. Angles that protested Lucifer, their brother punishment. But looking more closely to the shows, that doesn't seem to be the case for the shows universe.

Lucifer is the only one conform to be fallen, and Sera while speaking to Emily sounded like hes the only one. "Do you want to be like Lucifer? Fallen?" There were no mentions of his brothers and sister (the possible sins) falling with him.

Asmodeus told Fizz that they've been around since Hell's birth

So going by this, and not appearing to be fallen angels, I guess the Sins embodiment, were manifested when the first humans committed those sins. Hell being created by the first sin, and the embodiments and rings quickly followed when the sins when the humans committed them.

But are they extensions of Roo? Possibly. Sins and Root of Evil seem to go hand and hand. That people who commit sin goes to the "Evil place" in their afterlife. But as I stated earlier...a sin doesn't necessarily mean the person evil. Beezle and Ozzy certainly don't appear evil by their actions. So its hard to say. I don't think the show would take that direction of the Sins being extensions of Roo. But...I am loving the idea of the Sins being her "children" and possibly under her control if she choose to utilize them in a possible final showdown. It makes an intriguing plot twist. The Sins, who probably originally rallied behind Lucifer and Charlie, only for Roo call upon her children and force them to switch side as they are extensions of her.

Maybe, that's why Roo may be weaken in the first place? We already discussed and agree she seem to lack corporeal body. Force to lay waiting and have her chess pieces line up before she make her appearance. Maybe the sins were torn from her, (unwilling?) as they manifested and took their own form. With each sin that a human acted, tore more of her body. So her own form was literally torn to several pieces and split apart. Who knows.

What would be interesting, as I mentioned before, the show likes to take the concept of evil but give it heart. I wonder if somehow, the Root of all Evil will somehow be twisted into a better light? I very interested how they manage that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin thoughts #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin theory #hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin sins #helluva boss sin #beezlebub #hazbin beezlebun #helluva boss #helluva boss beelzebub #helluva beelzebub #helluva ozzie #hazbin roo #hazbin hotel roo #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar

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rosehipfield · 4 months

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Shin AI's words can't be taken at face value considering the only cg we have of Shin and Midori under an objective light is of Shin looking incredibly relaxed, on top of all the pictures Midori seemed to take of him being of him smiling in a way that Kanna is mournful of. Regarding his behavior in the death game, Shin says that he looked up to Midori specifically as an anti-hero, and when he took on his Sou Hiyori persona, he used that to justify treating others the way he did. But comparing the words Midori gave him in the past, of not putting himself down and relying on his own power, to how Shin treated Kanna at present, undermining her perception of her own capabilities and attempting to distance her from the group, all so she could keep working with him under the excuse of him protecting her, it's much more apparent that the persona Shin used embodied his anti-hero ideal of Midori rather than any actual traits that could be observed from Midori during their time together. Also it seems like a far reach to consider Shin keeping things like his mecha builds- extremely delicate items that would take an immense amount of trust to keep in somebody else's space- in Midori's house to be a result of Midori pressuring him into it. Especially since, again, the only interaction we see between them was of Midori encouraging Shin to become the kind of person who can meet his younger sibling proudly,

As per usual, long post, and I repeat myself on some occasions

First of all, I wouldn't dismiss AI's experiences so easily. While it's true he could differ from real Shin, in theory he has same memories of events so his feelings about the matter could be taken into consideration.

As to that CG and how peaceful Shin looked, I admit he could feel some level of comfort, he did consider Midori a friend after all. But while we have one flashback with them and happy photos, I think it's not right to base everything on it. Moreover, at that moment Midori was likely exploiting Shin's feeling to get him sign consent form, which lessens level of wholesomeness. If we are talking exclusively about how Shin himself viewed that scene, yes, he could appreciate having such brother figure at that point of life. But upon reconcideration and reflection he could change his mind. The fact that his photos show him genuinely smiling and not sweating bullets are primary because:

Midori was the one deciding when to take a photo. He only took photos of what he liked, that doesn't strictly mean Shin only was happy and comfortable even if physical evidence doesn't cover it.

Shin indeed felt comfortable at times, because he did trust Midori after all.

Nevertheless, I still think that during their relationship Shin had double impression of Midori. While liking support, he disliked other sides of their friendship, for example being caught on camera or being afraid in general. It is something Shin tells Sara, so I take this into account, I believe his reactions display what he thought all that time ago. If their relationship could be summarised by that one lone flashback, I don't see how Midori could be considered anti-hero and not hero by Shin. Yes, his actions came from his perception of what Sou-Midori would do. But as far as I can tell, it is not that different from reality. That fleeting moment of kindness is not the only thing that happened. Even in toxic or abusive relationship there are moments of peace, they are the reason why victims give another chance, they still see the best, trying to disregard all red flags. Perhaps that's what happened to Shin. He still cherished his friend despite being uncomfortable (I think he did feel uneasy due to his memories where he says he was afraid of Midori and, once again, his AI. Not to mention his reactions now, but it is also due to Midori being with kidnapppers). But, as I mentioned in previous posts, then he potentially learned more about how suspicious it all was and grew distrustful.

Also, about toy robot, I admit my assumption is far-fetched, though we know quite little about their actual relationship, so I could picture Midori telling something along the lines "Come on, aren't we best buds, let's put your mega-robot in my house". Not the highest probability, but still. Or Shin indeed could do it of his own volution, but it doesn't cancel out all red flags.

In conclusion, I still stand by my opinion that Midori had negative impact on Shin, and I am not persuaded by Midori supporting Shin as I don't believe it was truly genuine or that Midori was exclusively kind and caring.

It seems we keep discarding evidence of one another as unreliable enough, so I suggest to stop this discussion altogether. I liked reflecting on their friendship with you, but I think there's no point of continuing as we just end up in a stalemate.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts on the matter though!

#your turn to die #midori yttd #shin tsukimi

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gachagon · 11 months

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Haru, Legoshi, and Louis are all the same

(spoilers for beastars manga)

Legoshi, Haru, and Louis all get along and work so well together because they're all fundamentally people who try their hardest to change the way they naturally are in order to "fit in" with the rest of society. They all do things that go against their "true nature" just so other people will hold a different opinion of them when they first see them.

And the main reason they ALL do this is because they are also all people who are immediately judged harshly just by the way they look from other people. Yes, the other animals in Beastars all have to deal with this as well, but with these three it's inherently different because the stereotypes that are being pushed onto them are unique to just their specific appearances.

People are afraid of Legoshi not because he's just a predator but because he's specifically a grey wolf. We notice that while there are other wolves in the school, none of them are really the same kind as Legoshi. He even pointedly sticks out when he's with them.

And Haru is a Dwarf rabbit but her white fur makes other animals think of her as some extra innocent small creature that needs to be protected by default. She's the only white dwarf rabbit, and multiple times throughout the manga when she's with men the one thing they comment on is her fur and how it's "spotless", how small she is etc, her black eyes. Features that are noticeably absent from the other dwarf rabbit girls. (and yes I am aware the others aren't rabbits)

And Louis is a stag deer, the literal embodiment of a "prey" animal that tries it's hardest to be tougher than the things trying to eat it. Louis has the advantages of being a deer with antlers, but just like real deer in the wild, he is defenseless without them. He loses whatever confident exterior that people presume him to have when he sheds the antlers every so often. People will always view him not just as a prey animal, but a deer. Animals known for the docile and weak nature, animals that will run off of cliffs if they're scared slightly. He can't let anyone ever think he's afraid, not even once, because once they see that he fears anything its a wrap. People will just go "well that makes sense he is a deer". And any accomplishments he's made thus far is just thrown out the window, it'll be obvious to everyone he was "always" faking it. (It's why he's so adamant about the play still going on despite his injury.)

All three of them do things entirely against their nature just so others can look at them in a different light. Legoshi purposefully makes himself seem small and as nonthreatening as possible to prey animals because he knows that just from the way he looks, they won't want to be his friend and will be wary of him right off the bat.

Haru sleeps around with the men who chase after her because when she's doing something that's not "innocent" she's not being looked down upon as some defenseless small creature that needs saving. No one will take her experience in life seriously, unless it comes to something like actual sexual intercourse. (She's even the one who 'takes charge' when she first meets Legoshi and tells him she's fine with being the one on top the girl knows to do okay.)

And Louis pushes down any fear he feels in favor of unwavering confidence and bravado. If he's afraid he just pushes through anyways and fakes it in front of everyone. He would rather die than admit he's even a little bit worried or even anxious in a situation. Louis ate meat in the company of lions because he didn't want them to think he was just some stag deer like his father, but something even above that.

And this is why they all have such a close relationship with each other. They may not know it, but they're all doing the same thing and can relate to the pains of having to change yourself not just because of what you are, but because of what you look like in relation to other people in your species.

#beastars #beastars manga #beastars haru #beastars louis #beastars legoshi

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fortheloveofhylia · 4 months

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Healing Hands (Part two)

WARNING * SEXUALY EXPLICIT CONTENT * MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

My little sequel to this gorgeous smutty fanfic by @theangelicstoryteller

I just had to finish this with what was in my head. Enjoy some first Link and Hylia.

https://www.tumblr.com/theangelicstoryteller/730666899235553280/healing-hands

Two days had passed since the Goddess Hylia, the embodiment of light itself, had invited Link to her private hotspring behind her fortress. He had returned to his own room an hour or so after she left him, dripping wet, not caring what others thought as he went past. His mind was filled with the memory of Hylia. Her hands on his chest has she healed his broken robs, her fingers as they caressed his cheeks and bruised limbs. Her firm grasp as she pumped his cock and sent him into oblivion.

He had returned the favour of course, though it already seemed like a far fetched dream to Link. His unexpected escapades with the Goddess would no doubt become a beautiful memory that would carry him forward until he drew his last breath.

That was until a messenger knocked on Link's door and informed him that Hylia wanted to see him in her private chambers at his earliest convenience.

"She wants to see me?" He asked stunned.

The messenger nodded before turning and disappearing down the corridor, his task complete.

Link stood in the doorway for a full minute, contemplating what to do. Of course he couldn't refuse an audience with Hylia, but now he was unsure what to expect. There could be a perfectly good reason for this summons. Perhaps she wanted to discuss more plans for the final defeat of Demise. But the memory of the hot spring nagged at his mind, flashing images of Hylia before his minds eye. Specifically the ones where she stood before him, naked, and wet.

Link tried to push the thoughts aside and finished getting dressed before leaving his room and making his way through the fortress to where he knew Hylia's chambers were.

With each step his heart took a leap into his mouth and back again, yo-yo-ing too and fro. He tried to take calming breaths but struggled to maintain self control. He would have to work harder than this if he wasn't to give himself away in front of the Goddess.

In what seemed like no time at all he was standing outside her door. All that now stood between them was a few inches of solid oak. Link half imagined himself with a great sword cleaving the door in two to reach his Hylia.

Of course, she was not HIS Hylia. She was the Goddess Hylia, leader of the rebellion against Demise. He was a soldier and one of her most loyal companions, nothing more. If only he could make her understand what she meant to him. Not as a goddess, but as a human woman.

After a moment Link realised he should probably knock.

Why was he forgetting how to do everything today?!

He rapped his knuckles on the door three times and waited, quickly fixing a loose strand of hair behind his long ear. A moment later the door opened and Hylia's smiling face looked down upon him. It was like someone had opened a window onto a bright sunny morning, light streamed out of the room into the gloomy corridor beyond, bathing Link in her warmth.

"Oh Link, you received my message," she smiled at him, her eyes half lided gazing down at him.

"I did, I came right away."

"I'm only sorry it had to wait until now," she started to apologise as she stepped aside and gestured for Link to enter the chamber. "My duties have taken much of my time and attention lately. However I don't wish to talk about that with you."

"You don't?" Link asked, only a little surprised, and now a little more nervous.

Hylia closed the door and walked past link while he took a moment to look about the room.

It was a small sitting room which seemed to double as an office. Two comfortable looking sofas sat opposite each other on one side of the room, while a large desk covered with maps and papers took up the rest of the space on the other side of the room. An arch way lead through to what Link could see was a second chamber, with arched windows and the corner of a large four poster bed.

Hylia sat herself down on one of the sofas and motioned for Link to sit opposite her.

"First I wanted to make sure you were fully healed Link." She said, her concern swam around his head like a soothing lullaby, washing away his doubts and fears.

"Thanks to you my Lady I seem to be better than I've felt in a long time."

"Excellent, but please, when we are alone you must call me Hylia."

Link swallowed. Vividly he remembered the last time she had told him to call her that. Sultry thoughts intruded his mind and he had to push them away to focus on his answer.

"My... Hylia, I hope I didn't forget my place the other day at the spring." He was trying to be a gentleman and make excuses for his behaviour, but if he told the truth there was more he would have said and done that day.

"Forget your place. Is this because I am a goddess and you are a soldier. I told you before, I am no shrinking violet and after your previous performance I doubt you are truly as gallant as you wish to be seen."

"My Lady," Link exclaimed, flush rushing to his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"Hylia," she corrected him, rising from her sofa to sit beside him. "I wish we could forget the pretences, I am a living human as I know you to be. We have wants and... desires. Don't we?"

Link hesited before answering. She was so close to him now, their arms brushed each other and he was afraid she was going to hear his heart beating it was so loud.

"Yes, Hylia. We do. I mean... I do."

"We have been through a lot together haven't we Link. Don't you think we deserve to find some comfort and release within each other's company?"

Link's heart was beating a mile a minute and he struggled to meet her gaze, trying to keep his eyes on his knees, but she was just too iresistable. Link froze as he felt Hylia's hand thouch his chin and turn his face to hers. Their eyes met and he was transfixed. Sunlight seemed to swirl about her as he gazed at her. Her eyes blinked back, lost at once in the ocean of his blue eyes. Eyes which had seen much pain and torment and would no doubt see more. She wanted to soften those things for him, she could never erase them completely, but it was her desire to lessen the load.

"Link," she began. They leaned in almost at the same instant, their noses touching briefly as their foreheads met. "Link I warned you, you mustn't kiss my lips. Anywhere except my lips."

"But what if I want to kiss your lips?" He asked, kicking himself for questioning her.

"I told you I would explain so I shall. Link, if you were to kiss my lips you would never want another's kiss. I would become the only person you desired, the object of your love. I should not wish to deprive you of someone else's love." With that she turned away, disappointment lingering at the corners of her expression.

Link gently touched her chin with his rougher hand and turned her to face him once more. With his heart in his throat and all warnings ignored he spoke his truth.

"Hylia, you are the only person I desire. I would never objectify you but you are the one I love. And there is no other on this earth worthy of it. My only wish is that I be worthy of your love."

In response, Hylia smiled. Her warmth radiated from her once more as they leaned closer together. Their hesitation was brief and a second later lips crashed against one another.

A sigh escaped Link at the euphoria of her touch. His goddess.

Their lips moved together almost as if from memory. Their tounges met and danced over each other before link slipped his between Hylia's lips, capturing her mouth with his.

She moaned against him, bringing her hand to the back of his head, pulling off his hat to tangle her fingers in his hair. His belts were quick to dissappear after that. Though he carried no weapons, the belt carrying his pouch and other items was discarded on the floor.

For an instant they drew appart. The nagging voice in the back of Link's mind was starting to question things again. Was this right? Should he be doing this? But Hylia gave him few reasons to doubt her intentions.

When he gently placed a hand on her thigh, she smiled and kissed him again. His hand moved higher, rubbing little circles with his thumb as he went. Link's other hand snaked around behind her neck, pulling her in for deeper kisses. Hylia shuddered slightly as Link's hand touched the top of her leg. The fabric of her white dress was thin, almost like a flower pettle, and Link could feel the warmth of her body beneath his fingers.

He pressed on, moving his thumb down until his hand found a warm space between her legs. He applied a small amount of pressure with his thumb and Hylia but her lip. He remembered the effects of that spot well from last time. However, as much as he wanted to ravish his love he also wanted to take his time and show her the defence she deserved, goddess or mortal.

To his surprise, Hylia seemed to have the same thought. She sighed and got to her feet.

"Come, I think we will be more comfortable through here." she held out her hand and Link took it without hesitation. He followed her like a love-sick puppy through to the bed chamber. Hylia released his hand but he captured her again immediately, desire driving him forward as he pinned her back against one of the bed posts.

"Forgive me? " he asked, dripping his gaze to the floor.

"There's nothing to forgive. Unless you'd like to apologise properly," she teased, slowly lifting the hem of her dress to reveal her bare legs. Hylia leaned back into the post and waited to see what Link would do. He smiled and then his smile became a smirk.

" As my goddess wishes."

Link slowly fell to his knees before Hylia, helping her push the rest of her dress out of the way and leaving long trailing kisses up the inside of her thighs. With a strong hand, Link lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and buried his face in the warmth of her flesh.

Hylia gasped as his tongue found her clit, licking softly and slowly to begin with, easing her into the sensation. He moved faster, flicking his tongue, soliciting a sultry groan from Hylia. Even her moans were like music to Link's ears, spurring him on to find the rhythm she responded to best.

He moved his tongue between her folds, licking at the wetness which began to drop down her thighs and his chin. Hylia's eyes rolled back and she rested her head against the bed post while Link supported her weight. Her slender fingers wound their way into his hair, gripping his blond shaggy mop as he bobbed back and forth. With one flick of his tongue he slipped it inside. Hylia gasped and chuckled to herself, but still Link held back. He didn't want this to be over too soon.

He didn't want this to be over full stop!

As he could feel Hylia's fingers curl into his hair, tugging slightly he pulled back. Before she could feel too bereft he slipped a finger between her folds, hooked and massaging the throbbing bud inside.

Link closed his eyes, becoming aware of his own throbbing making his trousers feel too tight.

"Don't close your eyes," Link heard Hylia say above him. "Please... Link. Don't... close your eyes. I want to see you."

Link blinked once then fixed his eyes on Hylia, he grinned, licking a little of her taste from his lips. She sighed and he slipped another finger inside, thrusting a little harder and faster he attempted to get to his feet.

Hylia sunk down a little without Link to support her so they were almost the same height. Link continued to finger and massage at her entrance as she grew slick and warm with wetness.

Though she was not completely distracted. As Link leaned forward, pushing a little of his weight into her body, Hylia's hands began to pull at his clothes.

After a moment she grew frustrated with the fastenings and breathed a few words.

"Link, stop. Wait a moment"

"What is it? Is something wrong?" he was suddenly concerned, had he done something he shouldn't?

"I can't get these clothes off while you're distracting me," she explained, feigned frustration painted across her face like a pretty mask.

Link smiled and took a step back. Both of them felt the absence of the others touch at once, but Link wanted nothing more than to tease and satisfy the woman of his dreams.

"I'd better let you get to work then Hylia," he insisted, holding out his arms and waiting for her as though she were a serving maid. But Hylia wanted to play the game too and she would make Link suffer for teasing her.

She moved away from the bed towards Link. A smile dancing on the corner of her mouth while her hooded eyes reminded Link of the strain in his pants and the heat building in his torso. He was already struggling to keep the blood flowing too and from his brain. Why did she have to look at him like that?!

Hylia moved around Link and untied the laces that fastened his tunic which she slipped over his head, followed by his under shirt. She traced her fingers along the lines of the muscles in his back and arms, tickling him slightly.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"Better, but still not good enough. I thought we agreed we should no longer hide our desires from one another."

Hylia's sing-song voice wafted around the chamber. Link shuddered at the feeling of her fingers on his bare skin and when she started to unbutton his trousers he almost lost control right then and there. He stood as still as he could manage while Hylia pulled his trousers and underpants down off his hips, exposing his rection. She bent down and Link stepped out of his clothes and boots, finally naked before her again. Though this time felt different. Last time they had been sitting in the hot spring, half submerged in the warm waters. Something about the water left an element of mystery to the encounter. Though they had been fully naked, Link felt much more exposed this time.

As Hylia's eyes wandered up and down Link's naked form she began to unfasten her own dress. It was a simple white shift with long sleeves and a beaded neckline. It fell to the floor in a delicious flump beside Link's clothes and she came to stand before him.

Their eyes met and Link tried to remind himself that he didn't just have to look at her eyes. He was about to glance down when Hylia placed a hand on his cheek.

"Not yet," she teased. Wagging a finger of her other hand from side to side. "I want your eyes up here, let's see how long my knight can stand to attention."

Link was suddenly nervous as he felt her hands glide down his torso, past his hips and pelvis toward the tip of his cock. He failed to hold back a whine as Hylia rubbed a bead of pre-cum on the tip of his cock. Maintaining eye contact, Hylia stroked her fingers up and down his length a few times before quickly licking her fingers. She returned to her work and Link shuddered and tensed at her touch. He thanked the other gods Hylia wasn't using her magic on him at that moment otherwise he wasn't sure he would have been able to stand. His vision swam with her beautiful face as her dexterous fingers worked his cock.

She started slow and hard, pinching just enough to make him want more. Then her movements became faster and she worked the base of his rection, soliciting the sultriest of groans from Link. She delighted in watching him shudder and struggle to maintain his composure.

It wasn't long before Link couldn't take it any longer. His desire was overflowing and all thoughts of decorum and protocol and right and wrong had been left at the door with his common sense.

He scooped Hylia up off her feet in one deft movement, carried her to the bed in a few short strides and laid her down, climbing on top of her. Link caged her body with his arms, almost pinning her to the bed.

"This has been fun so far your Grace. But..." he swallowed, slightly short of breath and almost in disbelief at what he was about to say. "But I'm going to make you scream for me now."

He half expected her to chastise or reprimand him, but instead she grinned in the most sensual manner.

"Then you'd better get started, or it'll be the other way around Link."

With that encouragement, Link pressed into Hylia, catching her lips with a long passionate kiss.

Link's hands wandered slowly down to Hylia's breasts, he trailed his fingers around in lazy circles getting closer and closer to her perky pink nipples. They stiffened under his fingers and Link's erection responded in kind. Hylia's head sunk into the mattress as Link started to massage her nipples, pinching between his thumb and forefinger while she writhed and groaned beneath him. Just the sight of her naked body, eyes fluttering, would have been enough to finish him, but he we determined to make this last as long as he could.

Link moved his head down to lick one of Hylia's nipples. She gasped and a stream of unintelligible noises followed. Link responded by sucking gently on her nipple, massaging the other as he continued. Hylia uttered something Link couldn't hear, then her hand gripped his hair and pulled him back for more deep tounged kisses.

"Who would have guessed such a silent warrior would have such a talented tongue?" She laughed, music rang in Link's ears and he couldn't help but laugh in response.

"I have many hidden talents my Lady. I wish to share them all with you."

Before Hylia could reply, Link started trailing kisses and wet sucking hickies down her body. He moved lower and lower until he sat up on his knees. Her legs spread out on eather side of him.

"You're laid out so pretty. You're so beautiful. Almost seems a shame to ruin such a perfect picture."

"No," Hylia cooed, "I want you to Link. I want you to ruin me."

Those words sent him over the edge. It wasn't that he had been waiting for permission, for it had already been given. But something about the way Hylia spoke to him triggered something primal inside him.

Link placed his hands on Hylia's hips and tugged her towards him. She slid her legs over his hips until they were inches apart. Link shuddered slightly as he probed her entrance with his throbbing cock. She was slick and warm and for a second her eyes rolled back and she smiled broadly. Feeling Link as he readied himself was like waiting for a storm to break so you can go and dance in the rain.

He pushed his hips forwards, parting the folds of her entrance and slipping just his tip inside.

"Oh that feels so... But I want more. I want all of you Link." She encouraged him, finding his eyes behind the fringe which had fallen across his face.

"You want all of me?" He asked, barely able to restrain himself from fucking her senseless right then and there.

"Yes, I want to think and feel and breath you and only you right now."

As she wished, Link bucked his hips and slid the rest of his length inside. Hylia let out a long breath as she adjusted to the feeling of Link inside her. But he didn't give her long. Half a second later he bucked again, thrusting slowly but firmly against her hips. He held onto her waist to stop them slipping on the silk sheets, but it also gave him better purchase as he thrust into her.

Hylia rolled her hips against him and Link adjusted his pace to match her rhythm. Link's breathing quickened and Hylia gasped in between short breaths. A glorious heat began to build and twist in Hylia's stomach, it reached out for Link, willing his movements and his touch. Oh the feeling of his rough soldiers hands on her soft subtle skin, she could enjoy that for eternity if he would let her.

Link returned one hand to her breast and played with her nipple, while with the other he used his thumb to massage her clit. The more pressure he added and the more he squeezed, the more she gasped and groaned and bucked beneath him. He could feel himself starting to lose his grip. Link adjusted himself and started to move faster. Hylia let out a loud cry, a sound she hadn't made before. Concerned, Link slowed down and leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

"Are you alright my love?"

"Oh, yes." She replied in a breathy whisper. "Yes, right there, that's..."Hylia trailed off. But link didn't stop. Reassured he renewed his efforts once more. Hylia's cries grew louder and more frequent, and Link had to admit that she felt amazing, surrounding his hard cock and making such sultry noises for him. He could feel himself growing close and as Hylia dug her nails into his back and trailed them down his spine he shuddered with pleasure. The heat inside him had built to a crescendo and the swelling knot inside Hylia threatened to unravel at any second.

"Oh my Hylia...my love," Link half grunted. The sound was enough to send Hylia over the edge, the knot exploded in a rush of heat that made her grip Link's arm and the bed sheets around her.

"Link...!"

Link came with a final thrust and his body shook with the release. He glanced at Hylia, sprawled on the bed beneath him. A mixture of their cum dripped down between their thighs despite Link's cock inside her. Not a single thought could cross Link's mind, except how insanely happy he felt and how much he loved Hylia.

For a moment they stayed as they were, Link and Hylia struggling to get their breath back. At last they found each others gaze and Hylia smiled up at him and brushed some hair from his face.

"Link, you called me 'my love'" she said.

"I did, you are. You are my only love and there will never be another but you in my heart and mind and soul. I can feel us bound by more than the love of mortals."

"I did try to warn you what it would cost."

"Cost, this is not a cost. This is a gift, a wonderful gift you have bistowed upon me." As Link got his breath back he sat up and gently pulled out. "And since you have given me such a gift as there has never been before. I think I aught to resume my duty."

"Your duty?" She asked, a little confused.

"You didn't think I was finished with you, did you?" Link gave Hylia a crooked smile and raised a sly eyebrow. "Your generals are going to have to wait a little longer to pry you away from me my love."

The End...?

#link #linkandHylia #legend of zelda #fandoms #smut #zelda smut #sexy #spicy content #spicey creator #fanfic #duet

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

Paradise Circus - Chapter Two.

Since y’all loved the first chapter so much, have another!

Previous chapters - One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 2,938

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. NO MINORS, PLEASE!

“So, let me get this straight. You claim to love animals, yet you have no qualms about the abuse they suffer in the name of the meat and dairy trade?”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I think there can be a separation there, because certain animals have always been intended to be eaten. We’re carnivores, we’re supposed to eat meat. Imagine how the evolution of man would have been affected had we not been a carnivorous species.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy, but I have to correct you there. We’re omnivores, and back in the times of early man, they weren’t presented with an ample choice, an abundance, in fact, of dietary alternatives to animal products like we now have, so your point is moot, really, if you think about it.

“Also, you say certain animals have always intended to be eaten, but that differs vastly from culture to culture. Do you agree with the dog meat trade in China, for example? Have you heard of the festival they have out there in Yulin?”

“Yes, I’m very aware of Yulin,” he was able to interject with when she paused for breath.

“Dogs are snatched, people’s pet dogs in some cases, and locked in cages before being horrifically tortured and then eaten. Surely, you’re not comfortable with that?”

“Of course, I’m not, but...”

“But you have no qualms about a cow being led into a slaughterhouse, terrified out of its mind, smelling death in the air all around, wondering where the safety of its pasture is, or their friends are, before it’s slaughtered?”

“Um...well.”

“And there, see? There you have it.”

Oh yes. Tommy had it, alright. He had the measure that Darla was perhaps one of the most self-righteous people he’d ever met. In fact, during a lively debate, she bordered on sanctimonious. He remembered that she could be a little superior when she was younger, but now? It seemed extremely amplified to him. It wasn’t the only example of that side of her nature, either.

“Now, you call yourself hard left in your views, but can you not see that the extremist tactics of said hard left are often just as bad as those upon the hard right of the political divide? Believe me, I have no love at all for the right wing, or their propaganda, it fucking disgusts me, to be honest, but I cannot in good conscience condone some of the approaches of the hard left to being heard. Except for punching Nazi’s, that I whole heartedly condone. But torching innocent people’s businesses, their livelihoods during riots, for example, I ain’t cool with that,” he reasoned, Darla draining her wine and being just as quick to jump in as he expected he would.

“Extreme actions are often all people have left to resort to, out of frustration of not being heard, of being repressed and down trodden by right wing fanaticism. If talking worked - and believe me, we’ve tried it – then we’d keep on keeping on, but doesn’t give a lot of room for much else in the name of voices being heard. You being a centrist is perhaps worse than hard right. At least they’ve picked their side. You? You perpetually sit upon a fence.”

“I didn’t claim I was a centrist,” he began, feeling frustrated. “I just said I don’t condone mindless extremism being resorted to. I lean to the left, but not the hard left. You forget I’ve seen the results of that, what I’ve fought for out in Iraq, against those who are the very embodiment of extremist in their views.”

“Then you’d have to agree that at times, you have to fight such power with an equal, opposing force, would you not?” She put to him, niggled at the way he seemed almost blasé in his opinion.

“No, I wouldn’t. I believe the left can and should do better than lowering themselves to the actions of the right. Anyway, do you want another drink, or are you gonna bust my balls even harder, because they’re pretty banged up already.”

She couldn’t help it, how expressive he looked when he said it, chewing a little aggressively on his toothpick too. She snorted with laughter before falling apart, watching as he slowly began to smile. It cut the tension nicely. “I’m sorry, I just get really into debating. Comes with the territory, being a lecturer. And yes, please.”

He got up, leaving her to sit and cringe, closing her eyes as she had to concede that this was perhaps the worst date she’d been on in a while, and with the guy she least expected it to go badly with. They were so different on virtually every topic they discussed. In fact, not just differing. They were poles apart. The meat eating and left/right divide weren’t the only subjects they’d clashed on that evening.

How could two people who had gotten along so well throughout their childhoods be so glaringly mismatched? Because they were no longer children, Darla surmised. They’d grown, been shaped by their very different lives as they’d become adults. It wasn’t like when they used to share a gigantic bag of Ruffles and watch WWF wrestling on a Saturday afternoon any longer, both cheering for Macho Man Randy Savage, Ultimate Warrior and Hulk Hogan. Their only disagreement back then had been who was scarier; The Undertaker or Papa Shango.

Even musically, they were so different in their tastes. She loved indie rock, trip hop, grunge, RnB and drum n’ bass. He preferred rap, classic rock and metal. “I can’t bear Nirvana. Kurt Cobain was a great lyricist, this much is true, but his vocals were just so flat. And his wife! God, don’t start me on her. She sounds like a bag of feral cats being hit with bricks.”

Darla had virtually needed a winch to pick her jaw up off the floor at those particular assertions.

The only common ground they did seem to have was that regardless of their many and varied disagreements, they both couldn’t help but find the other extremely pleasing to their respective eyes. He was wearing one of those black vests that showed off his huge, ripped physique, all tattoos and brawn, exactly her type of man. To Darla, he was utterly mouth-watering. Her outfit choice of a high neck top and a pair of shorts of a respectable length, but short enough to show off her fantastic legs had Tommy equally transfixed. She truly was a stunning looking woman.

In order to sweeten the mood, when he arrived back at the table, Darla decided to steer the conversation in the direction of the past, of a simpler time, when they had much less in the way of derisive division. After that, the night seemed to be redeemed somewhat, but she was a little deflated by the fact she knew that there would be no second date. They were just too different as people, not enough common ground to agree upon and way too many ideals that conflicted to make it anything other than the kind of clash that just wouldn’t work.

The way he looked, though. God, the way the man looked, and the way he looked at her. She could only describe it as quietly predatory. It wasn’t overt at all, but she damned sure couldn’t discount the want in his eyes as they continued to drink and talk, feeling her head spin a little for the five large glasses of wine that she’d had, Tommy in much the similar state after the same number of beers, plus a couple of shots he’d had at the bar, trying to bolster himself as he realised that what he’d once hoped would be a good night with her, had turned out to mostly be anything but.

His longing for her, though, it still lingered. In fact, it was likely amped up by the Jameson’s. Perhaps the shots weren’t the best of ideas he could have had. Or were they?

Teetering on the line between not fully drunk, but not exactly sober, he eyed her from across the table, her eyes, hazel with a green flare illuminating her irises, locked upon him, lost within her own lustful thoughts. That body. She was consumed by the wondering of how it would feel to have such a weight on top of her, to feel him, let her hands tour every last rise, dip and curve of those enormous muscles. As for Tommy, all he could imagine was how those long, silky legs would feel gripped on around him as he drove into her without reserve, and it was beginning to distract him.

“So, let’s be real. Tonight? Awful. I mean, you’re a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but you see the thing is, we’ve grown apart. We’re just too different now, aren’t we?” Darla stated as they walked away from the bar together. It was crowded and she needed a little peace, so had called her Uber to meet her down at the next block. Her app told her he was three minutes away.

“I think that’s a fair assessment. It’s been good to at least catch up, though,” he replied, scratching the back of his head, feeling awkward.

“Though I do think the night isn’t a complete bust. Or rather, we could do something to change it so that it isn’t.”

He caught her drift, but couldn’t help being playful. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

Lifting her chin, she fixed him with a look, one that made a shiver tear straight through him. “Come back to my place and you’ll find out.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Their shared stare was weighted, heavy with intention, yet they didn’t act. Throughout the ten-minute Uber ride back to her place, they sat separately, silent, just fizzing with anticipation not yet touched upon, the brush of Darla’s leg as she uncrossed them against his hard thigh making the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end.

They were moths, edging ever closer to the flame.

The air thickened in density between them after exiting the cab, Darla opening the brownstone front door and walking the short distance to her ground floor apartment, her heart pounding as she felt him behind her, letting herself into her home and turning, her back against the door as he closed the gap.

That was the moment they finally let their wings singe, mouths captured in a kiss, the desire flowing like a burst river bank, nothing left to contain it. Not that either of them wished to. Immediately, she sated herself upon the consuming need to feel him, delicate, gold ring adorned fingers exploring his muscles, the thick meat of his traps, his biceps, his abs as she reached to pull his vest over his head, kissing him once more as her hands smoothed down his broad, hair smattered chest.

God, the man could kiss. Those lips. Full, sensuous, gorgeous. He kissed her with every ounce of urgency coursing through him, guided entirely by his loins, nerve endings beginning to throb with awakening as he lifted her. Entwined, he carried her to her bedroom, Darla kicking her heels off enroute, the mattress soft against her back, the press of him hard as he caged her against it. She spoke to her Google home, telling it to play her Massive Attack playlist, before her mouth returned to his.

Her head swam, inebriated with wine and rampant longing, only losing the heated tangency between them to undress one another impatiently, his hands gliding over her legs, so silky and long. She smelled of orange blossom, a scent that flooded his nose as he laid open mouthed kisses upon her elegant neck, her soft moan causing a jolt to run through him, his mouth finding her nipples and sucking them in turn. She arched against him, whispering his name, her eyes a hazel bonfire as he paused, staring at her.

She was even more beautiful while under the heady duress of her arousal, Tommy admiring her, flushed lips agape, panting softly, pulling him back to her, claiming his mouth with more scorching kisses. The passion within him bordered on insanity, his lips leaving hers to tour her body, Darla feeling heat buzz beneath her skin as he kissed her chest, breasts, arms, torso, hips, oh, how he lingered over her hips, licking each dip, blowing cool air over the wet trails, watching goosepimples rise up in response.

The rousing scent of her womanhood caught his nose, his mouth moving to kiss her inner thigh, parting her legs, watching her sex spread for him. It was a sight that went right to his cock, stiffening more to see her, fingers stroking the bare flesh, his tongue to follow. She gasped, that first wide, flat lick of his tongue catching the entirety of her slit, pushing between her petals, circling her clit and trailing back down to probe gently at her opening.

The small strip of pubic hair remaining upon her neatly waxed mound tickled at his nose, the further he pushed his tongue inside her, Darla shuddering as she felt herself so thoroughly licked upon the inside, her hands fisting at the sheets beneath her. Pleasure streaked down her spine, pooling at his tongue, his groan at feeling her dampen his mouth so deep and gritty, it made her stomach turn pleasantly, intensifying when he returned his licks to her clit, thumbing the hood, making it stand out to each careful flick of his tongue.

“Oh my god.” She whispered, eyes fluttering shut, her long nails trailing his scalp as she writhed against the heavenly ministrations of his mouth. He licked at her with all the precision and skill as she’d touch herself with her own hand, her body humming with ecstasy, hardly able to believe how good he was. At the bar, they’d clashed, but now? They merged together so effortlessly, their bodies so in tune with each other.

Her arousal escalated sharply as he began to quicken his tongue, thirsty against her, sucking her bud gently, increasing the pressure little by little, until she was crying out.

“Fuck, Tommy! Oh fuck, I need you, need you inside of me,” she gritted, her head thrown back, thighs shaking as his big hands smoothed over them, his mouth emerging from between them, tongue swirling over her stomach as he kissed his way back up her body.

“Is that what you want, huh? Want to get dicked down, beautiful?”

“Mmm, right now.” She demanded, and with one easy slip into her heat, there he was, exactly where she needed him to be. Her mouth dropped at his size, her soaking walls stretched wide by his thickness, almost every last inch of him invading her. His brow furrowed, a long breath leaving him as he kissed her neck, settling atop her as they began to move against one another. It was slow and rolling, the exquisiteness burning them both to their very marrow, Tommy arrowing into her with long, powerful thrusts, a slight rotation of his hips making stars shoot through her groin.

Oh, that man. He knew how to fuck.

In life, they were mismatched, but in bed, it was perfect. Utterly perfect.

The feel of him rutting against her, dragging wetness from her cunt with every thrust, her dew bathing his cock entirely had Darla softly mewling in utter delight, moving fluidly against him as she panted against his thick shoulder, his mouth finding her and stealing hot kisses from her beautiful lips.

He was tight and heavy within her, imposing and unimaginable in size and prowess, the power and rhythm of his fuck making her dizzy and drunk on him, his big hands grasping her delicate face as their tongues entwined, his teeth grazing her lower lip in a soft bite, his moans gone to utter gravel. She was sexual bliss, absolute erotic heaven, his hands tangling in her beautiful ombre curls, fingers weaving through dark brown and blonde, losing himself to her.

A grumbled groan welled in his throat, hips jerking and sending him deeper, her walls fluttering around him instinctively, a whimper spilling over her lips as he dragged sparks through her core, pleasure taking root and coiling around the base of her spine, like a vine about to ascend.

He began to pound into her with unhinged vigour and boundless determination, syrupy bliss stirred in her loins, Darla’s hands running down his back and delighting in the feel of every rise and fall of his chiselled, bulky muscles, drinking him in, savouring him while she had him there, relentless between her thighs.

The sounds of Paradise Circus, one of her favourite songs filtered through the air as he bore down into her strongly, his cock hitting her deep, bright glimmers ignited, her nerves snapping as she felt herself ascending.

His moans were primal and unabashed as he spiralled towards the same climactic state, fucking her with powerful intent, sensing her release was just as imminent as his. He held his weight up on his forearm, reaching between them and pressing his thumb to her clit, rubbing tight circles until she clenched strongly and cried out, breathless in her beauty as she came hard, his cock erupting as his sun shone over her horizon, blinding him, reducing him to nothing but a trembling wreck on top of her.

“Have you got the energy to do that at least another three times to me?” she panted, Tommy arching an eyebrow at her.

“Only three?”

Yes. He’d most certainly be staying over that night.

A/N - Now, here’s the really, really important part. Did you enjoy it? If so, please don’t just redundantly click that heart. Reblog it. Also, I love to engage with my readers, so a little comment would not go amiss either! Doesn’t have to be long, just reach out. I’m all about building community here and there is nothing more lovely than readers and writers supporting one another!

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