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themattress · 4 months

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Untitled Kairi Post

Y'know what? In a way, Kairi was tragically doomed as a character from the very beginning.

"Oh, because she was a love interest and damsel in distress!"

No. Myths, fairy tales and, well, Disney movies have used those tropes for ages, and if you're doing a story where a huge point is the influence of those things, it's kind of a given that the leading lady be a love interest and damsel in distress. And the writing is smart enough to put a twist on the trope given that Kairi's distress is much less than it appeared to be because she's Sora's love interest and he's her's, and after Sora saves her she saves him right back.

"Oh, because she wasn't a playable character or party member!"

No. It would have been nice to have the playable puzzle solving-based Kairi sequence they initially planned at Hollow Bastion, but I can understand why it was removed given how it would slow down the pace following what is perhaps the signature sequence of the game. And in any case it doesn't have any bearing on how things went for the rest of the series, given that Riku also was not a playable character or party member (he just had a crappy AI when pretending to help you fight Parasite Cage all so that he could kidnap Pinocchio).

"Oh, because she was stuck in a coma the whole game!"

NO! God damn it, how much must the game beat the point into your stupid head!?

And who could forget?

Stop laughing right now.

Kairi. Not just "her heart". KAIRI. Since the heart = the person.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, it exposes some serious sexism if one goes with the "Kairi was in a coma" line for KH1 and yet says "Ventus was inside of Sora" post BBS, since it's literally the exact same situation except that Kairi was always awake within Sora's heart as opposed to Ventus only waking up at the end of 3D. It's why Sora felt things regarding Hollow Bastion, why he experienced the memory of Kairi and her grandfather, and why he saw and heard Kairi multiple times. He wasn't hallucinating; that was always really her.

So, enough beating around the bush. What did I actually mean, then?

Well....let's start at the beginning.

Kairi's arc in the original Kingdom Hearts is not just told through the writing. Utilizing a video game as a visual/audible medium, it is also told through animation, voicework and music. During her introductory cutscene, we see Kairi asked by Sora if she remembers the world she was born in before being sent to Destiny Islands. "I told you before. I don't remember." She answers this sincerely. "Nothing at all?" Sora responds. That's when we see this detail.

"Nothing." Kairi is lying. She doesn't remember everything given the trauma caused by being forced out of her old home, but she does remember just enough to understand why it was traumatic. She had a comfortable life there, and a family. She was happy. And then it was all gone in an instant. Now, on Destiny Islands, she is similarly content ("Well, I'm happy here.") and fears risking that same loss. And yet a small part of her still yearns for the past. She loved what she can recall of her past, as she loves her present. She fears only the future.

Riku's fixation on his existential woes and the mysteries of the universe, while also putting her up on some sort of pedestal like she's something special, is not helping at all. Something about it feels wrong to Kairi...wrong and uncomfortably familiar. It's making her very anxious.

But Kairi has someone to lean on and help her keep up an optimistic, cheerful front, perhaps enough to talk herself into believing it: Sora. And during this scene, we hear the track "Kairi I":

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This track reflects Kairi's character in this moment. While there is a subtle undercurrent of worry, her heart is strong enough to not let it get to her and look on the bright side as she looks out to the sun setting over the ocean. With Sora's reassurance, she is able to feel as though her home and friends won't change or go away no matter what happens on her, Sora and Riku's planned voyage, which allows her to feel anticipation for it. All finally feels right.

Of course, things were not right, and Kairi ended up in heart form as her body and soul were lost to darkness along with Destiny Islands. From Kairi's POV, she is now in the Station of Awakening (aka Dive to the Heart) and can do little but watch Sora's adventures as she can see them through his eyes, not fully putting it together why she can and where she truly is.

In the scene at Merlin's House, we get to hear "Kairi II".

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While it's similar to "Kairi I", there is now a more somber and mysterious feel to it given the present circumstances. While she doesn't know if Sora can hear her, Kairi wistfully waxes nostalgic over how Merlin's House reminds her of the Secret Place on Destiny Islands. And while Kairi feels sad over missing that place, she's also happy that there are places like it elsewhere in the universe. She's clearly learning as much from Sora's journey as Sora is.

Finally, we hear "Kairi III" in the flashback with little Kairi and her grandmother.

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And while it starts out reflecting Kairi's childhood innocence, it ends up turning...almost sad. The reason why being one of the most overlooked details of the scene: at the end of the grandmother's story, she disappears, and little Kairi is shown moving her head all around looking for her. This isn't actually part of the memory, but a reflection of Kairi's heart. She knows that she had a grandmother and that her grandmother isn't here anymore, but she can't remember how her grandmother "left". But she at least still exists...within her heart.

Speaking of which, once Kairi's heart returns to her body and Sora loses his heart in the process, Kairi puts her foot down. She may have learned how to better deal with and accept change and loss, but a line still has to be drawn somewhere and Sora is that line for her.

Thus is she able to save him. Later, we see her worry about the future and things changing again when she questions whether anything can be the same between her, Sora and Riku again after the corruption Riku had underwent. Once again, Sora boosts her optimism.

More importantly, he helps her learn, as he does, that even when separated you can take strength in keeping your loved ones (metaphorically) in your heart, and that even if things change and Kairi is cut off from the people and things she loves, they will always exist within her heart, just as with her grandmother and the story she told her about light and darkness.

This is why, in the end, Kairi is able to let Sora go and yet still feel content.

From "Hikari" (JP):

I'll stop doing pointless things like thinking about the future. Today I'll eat delicious things. The future is always before us, Even if I don't know it.

From "Simple and Clean" (EN):

Regardless of warnings, the future doesn't scare me at all. Nothing's like before.

This is a really good, really well done character arc.

It's also a very human character arc.

Yes, there are a lot of fantastical things going on, but when you put all of that aside, what are you left with? A young girl moves away from her old home and everything that she ever knew and loved, which gives her anxiety about the same thing happening with the new home and everything that she's come to know and love from it, which now includes a certain boy. She fears the future; she fears change. In the end, she ends up staying in her new home - but the boy moves away! However, through her time spent with him she's learned to accept this because he'll always be a part of her heart, which is something that won't ever change.

When put that way, it sounds positively mundane, and by and large the KH fandom - and Tetsuya Nomura himself for that matter - don't want or like mundane stuff like that. They want the crazy, the overdramatic, the angsty, the flashy, the anime tropeyness they're familiar with. This is why they were unreceptive to Kairi's arc to the fullest degree, as in many of them are literally unaware it even happened because they were too busy fixating on the archetypal Japanese media-style dick measuring contest between Sora and Riku (which is also far deeper than they tend to give it credit for, btw, but I digress). And if that's the case, then the question gets raised: why bother focusing on or expanding Kairi at all? She doesn't "sell".

THIS is why Kairi was doomed from the start. It's not her fault. But it's sadly the truth.

#Disney #Square Enix #Kingdom Hearts #Kairi #Opinion #Analysis #Kairi Deserved Better #This has been a PSA

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plentyoffandoms · 11 months

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Yellow (Part 1)

wearer is willing to hug

Gwi-nam x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist ♡ Yoon Gwi-Nam Masterlist ♡ Jelly Bracelets Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Am I late to this fandom? Oh hell, yes, but the show was so good.

Warnings: Some swearing. Nothing sexual yet

WC: 869

Gifs & photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @weputthefunin-funeral 2nd & 3rd gifs @dramastream

YN’S POV:

He is staring again.

Ever since I transferred to Hyosan High School a few months ago, I was used to being stared at, as I joined a month into the new school year.

Many people wanted to know where I was from. Why did I transfer?

Did I do something bad that made me have to transfer to a whole new school and leave my friends behind?

The answer was no.

My father got promoted and we needed to move for his job.

I quickly became old news and made friends. People stopped staring at me, except for one.

Yoon Gwi-nam.

"He is staring at you again." Jang-Mi said to me as she nudged my foot under the cafeteria table.

"I know. I can feel his eyes on me wherever I go."

"Maybe he likes you." Sun-Hee said as she nudged my shoulder.

Before I could say anything, Jang-Mi quickly said, "No shit."

The two of them started to bicker, and I ate there in silence, trying to wrap my head around what Sun-Hee said.

I wasn't really paying attention to what the teacher was even saying. I was staring out the window, playing with the bracelets that I had on my wrist.

Laughing silently to myself at the myth that came with these so-called sex bracelets.

They were a going away gift from my friend Ye-Rim. She knew I like to try and accessorise the school uniforms as much as possible without getting in trouble, of course.

"Just make sure no one snaps them." She said teasingly.

"Or what? I will have to do what that person says?" I scoffed as I looked down at the bag of jelly bracelets.

"Yes." She then on to tell me what the meanings were behind each of the colours.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I sat up straight and leaned back slightly to listen. "You are gonna get caught." Dal-rae, another one of my friends whispered to me.

I was gonna say something back, but I was called on by the teacher to answer a question.

I ran as fast as I could towards the school, but even I knew I wasn't going to make it on time, and that was going to be three demerit points.

Either way, I was gonna be late, so I decided to stop running and take my time, but I wasn't the only one.

Myung-hwan and his pathetic group of friends weren't that far from me, and that included Gwi-nam.

Who seemed to have a sixth sense of when I was close to him because he looked over his shoulder and I could see the half-smirk on his face.

He said something to Myung-hwan, who looked back at me as well and said something back to Gwi-nam that had the both of them laughing. Gwi-nam stopped walking, and the others continued walking.

I held my head up high and went to walk past him, but I didn't realise he had his hand out to grab my backpack until I was pulled back into his chest.

"Now, now, YN, where are your manners?" He tutted at me.

Gwi-nam's POV:

She raised her eyebrow at me. "What do you want, Gwi-nam?" She asked instead.

This is probably the first time I have heard her say my name. I mean, I hear it in my head as I think about her, but never once from her own lips.

"All I want is a hug."

She took a step back and looked me up and down, clearly confused.

"Why would I give you a hug? I don't even know you."

I figured she would ask that.

"You see YN when I saw those bracelets that you constantly wear under your jumper one day, I remember one of my older cousins mentioning them and said they were all a fad in North America when they did a student exchange program."

"They have no meaning." She tried to say.

"But they do. Now I would like a hug." I held the snapped, yellow bracelet up high for her to see.

YN gasped and looked down and saw that it was indeed gone from her wrist.

"Unless you want me to tell everyone that you actually had to come here because you got caught cheating on your exams at your old school."

"You are willing to tell some stupid lie just to get a hug? Why? No one else will touch you?" I could tell she was angry, but I stood my ground.

She looked like she was having an inner battle with herself, and she sighed and held her arms open and wrapped them around my waist, and I wrapped my arms around her.

The hug wasn't very long, but just as she was about to pull away, I made sure she heard me say, "You will be mine, YN." and I let go of her.

YN quickly turned to walk towards the school.

"Oh and YN?" She stopped and didn't say anything.

"Make sure to keep wearing those bracelets. I think you and are going to have fun with them."

Orange (<-Part 2)

#female reader #reader imagine #reader insert #aouad yoon gwi nam #all of us are dead gwi nam #aouad gwi nam #gwi nam smut #yoon gwi nam #gwi nam x reader #gwi nam x female reader #gwi nam #gwi-nam fanfic #all of us are dead #all of us are dead imagine #all of us are dead fic #all of us are dead fanfic

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iridescentscarecrow · 5 months

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by you talking about makima being an abusive mother i assume you're referring to eli's excellent post about CSM's association with motherhood. please do check it out if you haven't, it's been rotting away in my brain for a while and the Chainsaw Man as a birthing device is something i'll bring up in this response.

this is a really intriguing line of inquiry, and an interesting way to think of kishibe; so i'll attempt to assimilate my thoughts on how he's positioned in this answer. this will be quite long so do bear with me:

i've talked about how Family as a concept bleeds into part two from part one. in p1, makima forms for denji a Family, and in p2, denji is handed this motherhood over nayuta.

makima as the Mother is kept and collared by the state. and thinking of chainsaw man in terms of its reproductive power can be extended to its literal reproduction of the narrative. myth and memory form themselves through regurgitation, and the CSM cuts away this chain of reproduction when it eats entire concepts. when it makes people forget. there's an already apparent connection to the Womb (makima // nayuta // denji) but the selectivity in narrative-reproduction is why its central to makima and kishibe's conflict. the war against the mother who exerts control over the child.

because kishibe is the Masculine: he teaches makima and in turn makima entrusts denji and power to him,,, he narratively affirms denji's wondering if he's still able to feel, whether he shouldn't feel sadder at himeno's death by telling us, the audience, that the best devil hunters are those who "have a few screws loose." we're painted this image of denji as a feral incomprehensible Crazy thing, but this isn't true even at this phase of the story. he mourns pochita, he empathises with power's grief at losing meowy. [there's an intriguing line of thought where you compare denji with aki along this vein too, if you think about it].

and that's why the movie date with makima is actually the effective closing of this arc -- her telling denji that he does have a heart subverts kishibe's rhetoric, and what the story tells us denji is. this is makima in her role as mama, the mother, the love that she feels and recieves and creates. incidentally, the chaotic agent that kishibe envisions coincides with makima's idealisation of the chainsaw man, apart from the part where she's expressedly affectionate towards it. and who has she been raised by except these (masculine) institutions? who taught her how and what to want?

aside but "that's a lie." // he sees makima and recognises her machinations at one level but he's never really understood her or her need for love. she tells him that she wants to save people (and this may or may not be true) but he can't really parse that, can he? and kishibe also structures and contextualises so much of the story for us, just like what makima does: what i already said about denji's chaotic self, him narrating reze's past, etc. he's an independent source of information.

because yeah: kishibe is ruthless. and people often bring up kishibe's relationship with quanxi but i don't often see them balance her "ignorance is bliss" vs. kishibe's need to have a few screws loose. we know as the audience about how quanxi actively shuts herself off, but kishibe keeps talking about leaning into this devil hunter nature. and what i think is decipherable from this dynamic is that quanxi, or at least what kishibe sees her as, is kishibe's ideal. tbh she's actually a Symbol for various different ideals, her habitation and display of her sexuality alongside her Ignorance is denji's ultimate form! and kishibe trains denji... [aside but this is why cosmo being her gf is so interesting to me. something something woman who thinks ignorance is bliss x devil who embodies the Horrors of Knowing]

kishibe blindfolding himself after her death is him transposing that ignorance onto himself. he doesn't want to see a thing -- and that's where you see that dissonance. it's not that he's beyond caring, it's how blind he is in how he does this caring.

and kishibe strains against this, he wants to cut away his relationships as contrasted with makima (and even denji) wanting to form them. and this is why makima cutting off kishibe's last tie to quanxi is so interesting because you remember: quanxi didn't accept his deal.

you have kishibe pining after quanxi and yet she's not sexually available to him, so he further isolates himself. and the forming and breaking of relationships comes back here so vividly --

aki's and power's deaths form the CSM out of denji. it's crazy and unpredictable but it doesn't challenge makima, does it? // "attacks don't work against her."

and when all is said and done, denji tells him it's love. loove. denji's the one who explains makima to kishibe. they're sitting at the bench and denji's petting the dogs while nyako, the willingly domesticated animal, twirls itself around kishibe... and kishibe handles the cat with such affection. denji tells him it's love so what does he do except hand nayuta to him??

thank you for the ask, anon!

#kishibe as fatherhood... kishibe as the expected masculine... father figures for denji are dead behind a closed door ->#ignorance is bliss and kishibe is his mentor...#crow.asks #csm #umm. also a fic rec but nerve ape by hassoutoby on ao3 does kishibe's character very well. please read it #csm meta #kishibe #chainsaw man #csm kishibe #makima #denji #quanxi #crow.txt

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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Substratum (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ideas of Afterlife, Allusion to Trauma, Injury, and other Character Deaths, Violence, Blood, Self-sacrifice, Reader Character Death, in a theoretical S5 world where Eddie returns and then I hurt him more, allusion to Kas!Eddie or some kind of resurrection where the UD/Vecna was responsible for his return, DEAD DOVE: ROMANTIC CANNIBALISM

Note: This is jarring and I will say beautiful but not for the faint of heart. Shout out to @storiesbyrhi who wrote an amazing AU of Bones and All that touches on a lot of these themes and is the person who got this ball rolling and @courtingchaos for saying the magic words "fingers sneaking past your teeth" to spark inspiration god damn you both for always knowing the way to my heart. Pun intended.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Substratum - Definition

an underlying support

the material of which something is made and from which it derives its special qualities

It was a long and difficult fight.

Full of sacrifice.

But in order for it all to end, there would have to be an even greater one.

How it all came down to the two of you, neither of you knew for sure. But it did.

The Upside Down was ready to be cut off for good, but the closing of one world from another demanded blood.

Eddie, as one of the final beings in existence with ties to both worlds, needed to be the catalyst of said blood. Whether it was expelled or consumed.

Which meant one of you needed to die.

What a cruel irony that Eddie was seemingly resurrected only to be put in this predicament, and you who had to mourn for him once, facing the possibility that you had to do it all over again.

You argued for a while, as the world burned around you.

"It has to be me."

"No. I'll do it. You've already killed so many, let me be the last one. End this all now."

"I need to be the one, I was always meant to die to the Upside Down."

He swore up and down that he would die a thousand deaths for you, but it was your insistence that he could die a thousand times, but he'd never save you.

"I won't survive if I lose you again."

He's about to say the same, about to say that once you're gone, he'd be soon to follow, but you don't let him protest. You take his hands and place them softly around your throat, to snap your neck like the hundreds of other necks he'd snapped at Vecna's will.

But your love, your Eddie, couldn't let you go in such a cold and impersonal way.

His hands retreat from your neck, they climb upwards and settle on your face. So soft and alive; in mere seconds, he would never witness this again. He aches at the thought of your eyes cold and unstaring, of never hearing a laugh come from those lips again.

He leans in close, a whisper of a kiss as your lips touch for one last moment of worship before he destroys you; all the while, his thumbs collect the tears that escape from your eyes as you realize this might be the last time you see him too.

His first death had brought about some sort of hope for a great beyond, though. You threw yourself into books and myths and stories for hope that you would see him again. You'd told him so when you'd finally reunited, and you both grasp onto that same shred of hope at this moment, that there would be some palace of light where you'd sit and wait until he could join you.

Then he begins your undoing.

His fingers start to pry your mouth open, they explore past your teeth, they make your jaw go wide. You choke as he hand follows the fingers, into your mouth and down your throat.

A great sob escapes you but it is stifled as your voice box is crushed with the intrusion and you fight for air as your windpipe is squished.

Those fingers are searching, tearing through the delicate flesh within you that has never known the pressure of anything other than the weight of your consciousness and your soul. Meanwhile you’re silently enduring the torture; choking, asphyxiating, and focusing on one simple image: the ouroboros...eating itself.

It's fitting, because you have been and always will be one. Here you are consuming him...and soon enough he will consume you too.

Those searching, destroying fingers find their target as your body fills with blood. Their grip tightens, and then pulls, and that is your demise. Jaw snaps, eyes wide, heart quite literally broken as it’s extracted from the depths of you.

Eddie considers the ache in his own chest as he backs away from your broken, empty husk; what an odd thing, to have destroyed his own heart as thoroughly as he's destroyed yours.

His grip is soft now, delicate as the world roars around him; the sacrifice has been demanded and so close to being fulfilled. Still, he takes the time to hold and caress and worship your most vital organ.

He examines it with a critical eye. Ventricles and chambers and the trailing remnants of sinew that are just as beautiful as you, and he thinks it's fitting. Where else would your soul live, but in your heart; surely they both would be this complex.

And your carcass?

That's always just been the meat that kept the real you hidden.

Silly that you'd insisted he had always been the one to see the real you...and now he was.

"I'll be with you," he promises with one last, loving caress. "This will all be over and we can be together."

He kisses your heart, the last thing your physical form might feel, and then you're pushed between the sharpness of his teeth as the tear and gnash and funnel you down his throat.

Eddie swallows as the final gate closes and is sealed for eternity, one terrible world's door shutting swiftly on another.

At that moment, the recognition hit. He felt you you settle there, in the depths of him, for all eternity too. You filled him with golden light. And he realized you had been right all along. You had returned to each other again, and you didn't even need to wait very long.

The two of you.

Together as one.

Complete.

#tw: death #tw: blood #tw: cannibalism #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson angst #stranger things fic #kas!eddie

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houseoftulips · 2 years

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Unruly Man | K. Bokuto (sneak peak) ~ the one where your husband just loves how beautiful and plump you are from carrying his child

➤ sneak peak to my Wattpad story - Queen of Fukurodani

➤ ft: king!bokuto kōtarō x queen!fem reader

➤ content warning: pregnant reader, lots of talk about pregnancy, breeding kink, squirting, oral receiving (f), cream pie kink, fingering, kinda proofread bc i did this is one sitting

➤ note: in my official wattpad story, i will have an original character :)

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

You were on your way to delivery your child anytime in the next few weeks or so.

Your group of healers and even your husband were very adamant about your first child being a boy counting by the way your belly is slowly dropping compared to those who birthed girls. You saw it as a myth, not really believing that just because your belly dropped slower than others means you’ll birth a boy.

Your husband, King Bokuto or King Bo, thinks that your child is a boy due to how energetic he is inside of you. You were watching your king play a friendly duel with the Commander of Fukurodani army, Kuroo Tetsuro when your child had kicked you a few times too hard.

Your groaned in pain and shock from the tiny foot hitting one of your ribs making you lean down and hold onto your side. Everyone around stopped and nearly dropped what there were doing hearing their Queen in anguish. Bo was quick to drop his sword and come running to you, his wife. “Darling!” he called to you as he quickly wrapped an arm around your lower back and intertwined his fingers with your free hand. “Y/n? What is it?” he worriedly asked.

“The baby…,” you giggled but with pain still in hidden in your tone, “The baby kicked my side.”

Bo was worried even more even though your sweet laugh is heaven to his ears. “They didn’t hurt you, right? Are you still in pain?” he asks.

You smile and cup his face seeing how much love he has for you in his golden eyes. “It hurts but…a good type of hurt,” you say as you take his hand that was holding yours and place it on your stomach where you feel the baby move to find a new position, “They’re just trying to get comfortable, my love.”

He feels the little imprint of feet and what felt like a tiny hand under his warm and calloused palm. “Oh my darling! You and I will have a lively and valiant little warrior!” he beamed before kissing your cheek.

A valiant little warrior indeed…

Your child was already restless as they continued to grow in the comfy home of your belly. He was constantly moving day and well into the night that your back pain started taking a toll on your sleep. You laid awake and a sea of being uncomfortable in your bed while you’re darling husband would say gentle words against the skin of your belly.

“Our little princess…,” he mumbled one night, “Be nice to your Mama for me. She’s already doing so well keeping you safe, yeah? Just wait a little longer then I’ll teach you how to swing a sword,” he kissed your stomach making you giggle.

But there were days were your child would be still as day but your body was still in pain. You remained sitting or laying down as bed rest but you’d get restless too. Your husband needed help to rule the kingdom. He’s always been so reassuring, letting you know that you weren’t just his queen for political reasons. You were his Queen, his love, and his wife, he wanted you by his side.

He noticed you were starting to get uncomfortable as you neared the end of your pregnancy. Especially today, you had ended your morning walk in the gardens with your husband early today because you couldn’t walk anymore, you were more waddling if anything.

“My wife, go rest,” Bo said with a pout as his salt and pepper hair began to deflate, “Don’t strain yourself, please.” You wanted to protest but you just couldn’t. You held a bit of guilt for not sucking it up like what most women of royalty do but Bo as always reassured you. “You are my wife first,” he smiled softly, “You can be by my side when you feel better.”

You cupped his cheek letting him muzzle into your warm hand with the same pout on his face. “Very well…,” you lean up to kiss him to which he was quick to kiss you back, “Make sure to eat well today.”

“I will, don’t worry,” he says before kissing you again.

The day had gone by rather quick since you did sleep for most of it. But you decided to remain in bed with a book in hand since you were so comfortable. After reading just a few pages of your chosen book, a knock was heard on the door of your chambers.

“Yes?” you called out gently. You look up to see the door open revealing your lady in waiting.

She sends you a curtsy, “Your Grace, his Majesty would like to see you.”

You smile softly, “Come in, my love,” you call to him. Your lady in waiting steps aside letting the King walk in with his happy smile that’s held on his face all the time.

Bo looks at the lady in waiting, “I’ll take my dinner in here with my wife,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” she bows again before leaving the room.

Bo immediately looks back at you with his eyes softening at the sight of you. “How are you feeling, love?” he asked as he began to rid himself of his uniform.

“Better,” you smile, “I would’ve joined you earlier but I haven’t been comfortable in a while. I apologize.”

“No need, darling,” he says before climbing into bed with you and taking the book out of your hands, “I’m retiring for the day to be with you.”

He then pulled your back to his chest making you lay on your side and be completely engulfed into his embrace. You hun happily feeling his warm chest against your back making you muzzle you body more against him.

Bo held back a groan feeling the curve of your bottom pressed against his clothed cock. He runs his hands under your belly and rubbing small circles against your skin with his thumbs trying to distract himself from the pleasure he’s feeling with you against him. You hum again in both relief and pleasure as you weave your fingers with one of his hands.

You turn your head to look at your king who was nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Will you deny your Queen’s comfort?” you ask as you feel both his palms hold your stomach.

“Never my love…” he smiles as he lifts your stomach to relieve the weight off your body. You sigh feeling the pressure in your hips and back completely go away in seconds, “My don’t we have a heavy boy growing,” he laughs gently into your ear as he absentmindedly begins to move his hips against your ass.

“Mmm, he’s the cause for my back pain now,” you smile as he placed gentle kisses along the sides of your neck while continuing to lightly grind his cock into your backside.

“Ah, I must say that I’m a little jealous, my love,” he chuckled against your ear before kissing you cheek. His hips begin to put more pressure against your ass making you sigh in pleasure.

“Why is that, my king,” you whined as one of his hands pull away from holding your stomach to your leg. He gently hooked his arm under your thigh leaving your dress pool over your hips leaving your bare, yet glistening cunt feel the cool air in the room.

His ring and middle finger snake towards your cunt to gently rub circles against your clit. You moaned softly as your free hand ran up Bo’s neck to lightly tug the ends of his hair. He groaned against your neck as he slowly began to pick up the pace feeling your wetness slip out of your tight little hole.

“Because…,” he moaned before kissing your lips softly, “…it’s not my me that’s giving you pain, my dear wife.” He then slipped two fingers into your cunt causing you to gasp and pull on his hair. He didn’t want waste time because he just wanted to be inside you so he curled his fingers instantly pressing against the sweet spot he knew all to well.

“Fuck!” you whimpered against Bo’s lips that hovered over yours.

“Cunt still as tight as our wedding night,” he laughed mockingly as he slipped his wet fingers out of your cunt to rub your clit again making you whimper at the loss of feeling full. “You think I can fuck you as hard as I did that night? With your beautiful belly in the palm of my hands… My cock stuffing you full again, huh?” he kissed your lips softly seeing you nod your head silently as your grind your hips against his fingers.

“Pervert…,” you moan with a smile as Bo pulls his cock out of hs trousers. You can feel his swollen tip lightly graze your clit as you began to grind you hips again.

“Yes, my darling…,” he moaned against your mouth as he continued to rub his tip up and down your drenched cunt, “I am indeed a pervert…,” he slipped his cock inside you making you cry out his name. The feeling of your velvet walls flutter around his cock nearly had him fill you up in seconds. “…and such an unruly fucking man…”

His hips didn’t dare to begin to start slow, he immediately began to rut his hips against your ass making you scream out his name once again. “Kou! Fuck -!!m-my love - please!” you whimpered with a tug on his hair.

“Yes, my darling? You wish for me to stop?” he groaned as he continued to (almost) violently roll his hips against yours, a pool of sticky mess of your cum covers his cock deep inside your slicked cunt.

You shook your head not wanting to feel empty. You felt so close to finishing already as Bo’s cock kept pushing further into your g-spot. “Please! Don’t stop! M’feel so full,” you moaned out loud as your body began to shake in his arms.

“Fuck, sweetheart!” Bo whimpers feeling your walls clamp down harder against him. He’s close too, but he’s trying so hard to go on longer because he want to you to cum with him. “Cum, my love. Squeeze me a little more - shit - just like that ,” he rubs your clit as he continued to fuck you into the heavens. He leaves a kiss on your lips before pulling back to see how fuck out you are because of him and he loves it so much.

With his cock buried deeper inside you, his gentle kisses on your lips, and his rough fingertips against clit made you push further into your climax with every single thrust he gives you. The knot in your stomach threatening to break any second as you feel his other other hand still remaining under your stomach this whole time.

“My King,” you moaned out as you feel his cock twitch of his formal name, “Fill me please, I want more. Give me more babies,” you whimper with tears of pleasure filling the corners of your eyes.

His cock twitched again with a deep groan coming from his chest slips from his mouth. “Yeah? My wife wants another baby after this one, huh?” his pace quickens but becomes sloppy as he’s nearing his end. His fingers continued to run a bit harder against your clit.

You nod in response to distracted go form any words that’s aren’t incoherent. “Right there,” you mumble as your eyes begin to roll back, “Kōtarō!” you squeal out his name like a prayer over and over again as you feel the knot ready to snap.

“Cum, darling,” Bo moaned, “I’m right there too.”

On command your cunt gushed all over his cock and the bedsheets while your screams were silenced by your husband’s lips against yours. Your muffled screams and his groans were heard in the hallways of the castle as his warm seed fills you up once again. Your body shook violently in his arms while his fingers continued to rub against your clit.

“Wait, Kou!” you squeal away from his lips.

“One more,” he slows down his hips as he continued to hit your g-spot, “One more, just like that, darling.”

Then you gushed out again. Your mouth hung open as your let out a silent scream while Bo watched with a cocky smirk on his face. You creamed over him as you practically cocked warm him. Your cunt continues to flutter around him as you come down from your high.

“We’ll done, my love,” he praised with a kiss on your lips as he slowly pulled out. He moves your to lay on your back as he was about to get up to clean you up but one look at your cunt dripping out his cum made his hard once again. “Fuck…m’sorry darling,” he groans before he leans down in a blink of an eye sticking his tongue inside your hole.

“Nggh!” your back arched immediately as your hands immediately tugged on his hair, “Oh my god! Kou, I can’t - shit!” you cried out feeling his tongue against the walls of your cunt. A mix of your cum and his drool out of the corners of his mouth as he literally buried his face into your pussy with a groan.

He could fell you flutter on the tip of his tongue so he continued to slurp the remnants of what he released into you earlier. He was about to lock eyes with you till he saw you plump belly blocking his view and oh how he fucking loved that. He began to pump his cock with his hand. “You taste good, love,” he groans, "you're fucking soaked." he's drunk on you, his fingers move to dig into your thighs as he buries his face deeper in your folds.

“Oh!” you gasp as you abruptly feel the knot forming again, “Kou please! S’too much,” you let out one more gasp as your thighs shook in his palms and you cunt gushed all over and in his mouth.

Bo slurps and licks every drop you offered to him before forcing himself to pull away from you with a gasp. He smiles see how swollen you gotten as he sits back onto his knees. Your blissed out eyes lock with his feral ones, his smile softens as he leans over your face to give you a chaste kiss. You both moan into the kiss letting him slide his tongue into your mouth.

You both pull away breathlessly with soft smiles on your faces. “Such a good girl,” Bo says as he nudged his nose against yours, “I’m fucking another child into as soon as you heal from birthing our son.”

You laugh as you cup his face with both your hands and give him another kiss. “Why not sooner?” you joke half joke. Bo chuckled as he got out of bed and scooped you up into his arms to take you to the bath.

“You have a royal womb, my wife. Bearing a child is a battlefield enough,” he kisses your forehead, “No need to strain yourself when we can try again when you’re ready.”

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naavispider · 1 year

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This just popped into my mind: one night while they were camping in the forest, one of the Recoms tells a scary campfire story. Something like: “here’s the true story of the monster that eats you if you think about it”, you know the type. The marines all know it’s for fun and play along, but Spider grew up in a culture where stories are a primary way of sharing history and information, and he thinks it’s FOR REAL. A few hours later in the middle of the night, Quaritch finds spider wide awake and scared out of his mind…

"Now, listen close. What I'm about to tell you is real, it happened, and it can happen to you, too. We’ve all heard the story of a spirit or a monster that hides in the dark and eats you if you've done wrong, but this is no story. It's not folklore, it’s not myth, and it sure as shit isn’t make believe."

Spider shifted closer to Wainfleet's low voice around the fire. He rolled his eyes at the corporal's drama, but a shiver ran down the back of his spine all the same. Z-dog was to his left, and Fike was to his right, both a few feet away with shadows flickering across their faces from the campfire, both grinning expectantly.

"Like all good close encounters, this one started when I was very young - probably about 5 or 6, when I used to stay at my Nana's house while my folks were off working. These were the days when every meal was rationed, and every breath of the dying Earth polluted your lungs. Nana was old, she was dying, but I liked her company. The only thing I didn't like was the strange scraping noise that used to come from her basement. I'd tell her constantly, but her hearing must have been completely busted because she never heard it. One evening, while she was upstairs, I decided to check it out. The steps down to the basement are steep, wooden, and creaky. I made it halfway down towards the heavy door when I heard the noise again. A slow, drawn out scrape, that sounded like fingernails on floorboards. I stopped. I didn't know if I could do it. My heart was pounding like nothing."

Spider suddenly felt his own heartbeat increase. He shuffled closer to Z-dog, suddenly not wanting his exposed back to face the darkness of the forest.

"Then... I heard another noise. This time, it was a quiet, agonising moan. I strained to listen closer - not sure if my ears were screwed on right. But then the volume increased. It sounded like it was coming towards the door at the bottom of the stairs. I froze. I couldn't move - paralysed with fear." Wainfleet paused for dramatic effect, eyeing everyone in the cicle. "The sound was like a dying animal, or perhaps a dying person. It sounded like the moans and cries of an old woman who'd lost her mind. It was getting closer... it was right behind the door... It was coming for me... I bolted. I'm not ashamed to say that I turned tail and ran straight back up the stairs. My legs couldn't carry me fast enough. Just as I reached the top, I turned back to look at the door... only to see... it was ajar."

Spider looked around at the other recoms, horrified at the way Wainfleet was telling this story. But wait, he'd said it wasn't a story. This really happened. No wonder the man became a marine - he had balls of steel.

Quaritch was staring into the trees, always aware of their surroundings. Mansk and Prager were leaning against each other, having paused their card game to listen in to Wainfleet's tale. Spider could see he was not the only one hooked. Nobody interrupted Lyle, so he carried on.

"That was my first encounter with the being, but it was far from my last. The week after that, my Nana died from heart failure. I never went back to her house. But the creature... or whatever it was... followed me throughout my life, wherever I went. When I was 12, and we moved to Chicago, when I was 19, training at base camp Nevada, when I was 23 in Vietnam... it followed me... always. The... thing... it chooses you, and once it does, there's no way you can shake it. Hell..." Wainfleet's grim eyes locked across the circle with Spider's scared ones. "Even here."

No one said anything, but Spider wasn't looking at anybody else. "You mean... on Pandora?"

Wainfleet held his stare for a moment, the firelight dancing in his large, yellow eyes, before chuckling darkly. "You bet your ass. This thing isn't confined in the physical realm. It doesn't need air to breath, food to eat, water to drink. I don't know if it hitched a ride with us on the ISV from Earth, or if it can just materialise anywhere, but one thing's for sure... it's here, and it's not let me go."

Spider suddenly felt bare - exposed. The air chilled his skin despite being a warm summer's evening. He crawled even closer to Z-dog, part of him wishing he could move right into her lap. He restrained himself, however.

"You can always tell it's near by the slow, grinding scratching it likes to make on surfaces... I've even heard it scratching the trees out here, just out of sight." Wainfleet's voice dropped even lower, and Spider had to lean in to hear what he said next. "It doesn't like when we talk about it."

A shudder tore its way through Spider's body, and he sucked in a deep breath as a gentle wind blew through the camp. Suddenly, the warmth from the fire seemed to be blown away in the breeze.

"That's enough Lyle, you'll fill his head with all kinds of bull," Quaritch interjected.

Spider bristled. He didn't need Quaritch stepping in, he wasn't five. Nevertheless, Spider felt unsettled as the talk turned to tomorrow's plans and later, one by one the recoms drifted off to sleep. Usually, Spider slept a little away from the others, preferring to find spot next to a rock or tree stump, even if the privacy it offered was only in his head. Tonight however, Spider didn't really fancy that. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. Whatever Wainfleet had been talking about - that... thing - it seemed to be here. It could be watching them right now for all he knew. Spider liked to believe that Eywa wouldn't allow such an abomination on her world, but perhaps this creature was beyond her control. Wainfleet had said he'd heard it. Out here, in the forest.

He got up and walked quickly over to Quaritch's pack, grabbing the man's discarded jacket. He knew by now that he wouldn't get in trouble for using it whenever he liked. He threw it over his shoulders to warn off both the chill and the feeling of being watched by unknown eyes. He cast his eyes around for Quaritch - but the man was on watch duty, stationed a little further out of the camp, gripping his AR. He'd probably be there for another hour or so before swapping out.

Repressing his shiver, he found a comfortable spot nestled up next to the colonel's pack.

It took him a long time to get to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the unseen presence of Wainfleet's stalking monster, pressing in on him from the darkness that surrounded the camp. Who knew where it was now. He simply couldn't get comfortable, imagining it lurking out in the forest, waiting for the moment to strike... scratching its claws on each tree it clung to.

Every noise echoed in the quiet. Every snap of a twig from a roaming Pale, every buzz of a Shimmyfly as it floated uncaringly over the camp, Fike's gentle rumbling snores - it all seemed as loud as an engine roaring as Spider lay thinking about Wainfleet's story. Eventually, it got too much. Spider was never getting to sleep like this.

He groaned a frustrated sigh, sitting up against the pack and looking to see if anybody else was awake who might lend him a tablet. He needed something to take his mind off everything, but no one was up. He considered nudging Z-dog awake, but he knew she'd kill him. He wrapped his arms around his legs and brought his knees up to his chin, pulling Quaritch's jacket around him tighter.

"Kid?"

Quaritch's voice made him jump. He twisted around to see the colonel coming towards him.

"Why are you still up?" the recom asked, concern layering his voice.

Spider shrugged, turning back to stare at the dying fire.

"Hmm," Quaritch murmured. "Wainfleet's tall tales aren't getting to you, are they?"

Spider frowned at the embers. How could they not? "That shit's horrible..." he grumbled, unwilling to admit how horrific it sounded to be stalked by a sadistic, fiendish being.

"Spider..." Quaritch began, sitting down heavily next to Spider on the moss. "You... you know that story wasn't... real, right?"

Spider flinched as if burned. What did Quaritch mean? He tried to arrange his features into an uncaring, cool outer exterior, desperately hoping he wasn't betraying the confusion he was currently experiencing. "Sure," he said evenly.

Quaritch eyed him knowingly. "That's just a scary story... something folks tell each other back home to pass the time."

"Pass the time?"

"Sure. It's entertaining. The aim is to scare the crap out of whoever's listening. The person that tells the scariest story wins."

"Are you serious?" Spider glanced up at Quaritch now, almost too embarrassed to seek eye contact, but needing the reassurance that there was no creepy monster waiting to grab him more.

Quaritch stared amusedly at him, clearly fighting some urge. "Deadly."

Spider couldn't help the sigh that escaped him when Quaritch's certainty became clear. "You got a tablet?" he asked to change the subject.

Quaritch's eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, but he pulled out the tablet from his pack and tapped in the passcode. He passed it to Spider knowingly and the boy went straight into the entertainment system, searching for one of his favourite cartoons.

Quaritch's heart warmed at the sight, and a sly smile spread slowly over his face. Raising a hand to ruffle the kid's hair, he murmured a soft comment about waking Mansk to relieve him of watch duty.

When he returned, Spider had laid down comfortable, eyes fixed on the tablet and quite at home in Quaritch's sleeping spot. Assessing the situation, Quaritch decided that the kid probably wouldn't mind if he lay down next to him. It was his spot after all.

He left a few feet between them, but even so, the pair had never slept in such proximity to each other before. He rolled over so he could watch Spider, but the kid was engrossed in his tablet. He seemed happier now Quaritch had enlightened him to Wainfleet's little game.

He smiled at the sight of his boy.

Meanwhile, Spider was immersed in Scooby Doo, more at ease than he had been all night. He knew Quaritch was lying nearby - he could sense the man's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest a few feet away. He could never admit it out loud, but he knew that the man's presence comforted him. Eventually, he felt his eyes start to droop, and the tablet slipped from his hand as sleep finally took him.

#spider socorro #spider miles socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #recom wainfleet #one shot #may or may not be inspired by the fact i'm dreaming about scream VI a lot right now #featuring jack champion ofc #not that i've even seen it yet #anyway i loved this prompt #i didn't do a great job but I'm knackered #as usual LOL

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thislilstangirl · 1 year

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shuri and the rejection of queenhood

the other day on twitter, i remarked how shuri’s rejection of queenhood fascinated me. shuri is offered queenhood thrice. and she rejects it thrice. but she deals with two different types of queenhood which is the most interesting part. let me explain.

mythic queenhood: “you said you wanted to burn the world. then let's burn it together.”

let’s start with mythic queenhood. i view a lot of elements of wakanda forever through a mythic lens. it’s something that comes naturally when a story is so textually rich and layered. and it invites us to not take things at face value and play with the extremes myths often do.

when isolated from the rest of the movie, the scene between shuri and namor in talokan feels like something from a fairytale. a chapter from an epic where the princess gets taken to an underwater kingdom, gets courted (politically/romantically/whatever your interpretation) by the ruler of this kingdom, and they are able to see themselves in each other. namor gifts shuri a family heirloom (an heirloom which symbolised a promise that he would be royalty and rule), and they watch the sun shine on the beauty of talokan.

there’s just such a different vibe to these moments between them on talocan. hence when namor offers allyship, a union between two kingdoms, and specifically proposes to her that they “burn it [the world] together” i can’t help but see this as a mythic proposal to become queen who, by his side, will wage war on the surface world.

shuri refuses this strongly. despite her anger and grief, she understands what this union could bring: a world in ruins. she rejects alliance, the mythic queenhood, and most importantly, acts nobly as the protector she will become at the end of the movie.

literal queenhood: “you are queen now.”

the rejection of mythic queenhood and the dead of two innocents, is met with an inevitable retaliation: there’s rhyme in the tragedy: the death of a servant/handmaiden, ultimately leading to the death of a queen.

namor, the ‘peter pan’ god king he is, was told no and sought out a yes. once his mythic proposal was rejected, he decided to force the title on her. shuri was unable to outrun a fate that namor, a ‘god’, bestowed upon her, despite her steadfast rejection of it. you don’t just reject a ‘god’. she messed with myth and myth swung back hard. there’s a concurrent mythical storyline happening here, which i won’t completely explore here, but it’s exciting to think about.

anyway, this pushback by fate leans nicely into what happens in this part of the film. which can only be summarised as shuri’s illusion of control being shattered. this can refer to her belief that she is her grief when really it’s eating her alive. it can refer to shuri ‘containing’ her anger at the world. it can refer to her need to be purely pragmatic and logical, when her world her life is actually steeped in spiritualism. all is broken.

a vengeful protector: “i am the black panther, and i am here for retribution!”

the rejection of her this literal queenhood starts once shuri becomes the black panther. not to say the two titles can’t coincide, but with a furious, vengeful shuri, one falls by the wayside. seeing killmonger in the ancestral plane and not her mother, solidified this. to me, the mantle of queen wasn’t completely passed down. instead we have this terrifying and beautiful hybrid of duty and vengeance.

when namor greets shuri as “princess”, she replies back “NO. “i am the black panther, and i am here for retribution!”. despite literally being queen, in her words (or lack of words) and her actions this is a rejection of that part of her.

she is the protector of wakanda, perhaps a deadly goddess in the heat of her battle with namor. her role as black panther becomes a vessel for all her pain and anguish. and more importantly the future of wakanda is second to her revenge. eternal war was about to be triggered until she is pulled back from the brink. who helps her? the queen mother.

this moment is not queen to queen, because shuri was not acting like a queen or even completely believes that she is one. it’s queen to princess. it’s mother to daughter. And it’s only after queen ramonda is able to pass on those words that shuri couldn’t receive in the ancestral plane, does the mantle truly get passed in that moment. shuri is now the queen.

and isn’t it funny, that after shuri accepts literal queenhood, she also accepts a mythical queenhood, in the form of an alliance with namor. of course, at the moment, this is a queenhood rooted in the love of her kingdom, and the empathy and understanding of namor’s kingdom. and its forged not in fire, but in water as their alliance is communicated to their soldiers over the atlantic ocean.

the final rejection

there isn’t too much to say. skipping straight to the end of the movie, shuri formally rejects literal queenhood clearing the way for m’baku to be king. and it’s…peaceful. she has control over her own narrative, finally because she has control over her emotions. but this could only come from her being born again through the literal flames of her fury. there’s a lot of death and rebirth in this movie. the mythical queenhood still stands. and she has the bracelet, and the heart shaped herb that came from that bracelet, to prove it.

but for now, she has decided on being princess shuri, the black panther, protector of wakanda. a role that is steeped in tradition, but gives allows her a way to channel her technological prowess and her tremendous love for her kingdom.

so what happens next? that’s a whole different meta, but let’s just say i don’t see a forth rejection on the cards. if her arc in this movie was partly about rejection- rejecting spiritualism and her grief until it couldn’t be neglected no more, i would like to see acceptance play a big part in her next arc. but again, that’s a different meta.

#i hope this makes sense #mcu shuri #meta #wakanda forever #namuri meta next?#wakanda forever spoilers #marvel #namuri #black panther #shuri #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #nashuri

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trashlie · 3 months

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GOD today's Love and Deepspace update has me ON MY KNEES i am alkfjalfjkalfkjakfkjafkafjka LISTEN I read Xavier's third anecdote BEFORE I HAD AN 11 A.M. MEETING I HAD TO STOP MY CRYING AND TRY TO MAKE MYSELF SOUND LIKE I TOTALLY HADN'T JUST SPENT 10 MINUTES CRYING not my finest hour but I never said I make wise choices LMAO ajkfjkafjkafkafjkkajf I'm going to put all my incoherent spoilery thoughts under the cut but god I just have to say that yes, it's confirmed, I think Xavier really is my favorite, in the "I love them all so much and I want to gobble up this story and I need all of the lore but I will go for him above all others" kind of way LMAO like alkfjakjfjaf Xavier and MC just hit all my catnip boxes okay?

You can't fight your true nature lol

As a loyal Kiro fan I knew I would lean Xavier but I really wanted to give myself the benefit of the doubt and pretend I might make a different choice for once lol

Spoilers for chapter 8, as well as Rafayel and Xavier's third anecdotes let's goooooooooooo (and once again touching on Xavier's myth)

I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS I'M SO TENDER AND HEARTACHEY ;~;

Something I continue to love about LADS is that the LIs give MC so much agency. I firmly believe with certainty that Rafayel is not betraying MC; after all, they've already talked about needing bait for a big fish, so even IF there's a chance this part isn't planned, I believe he knows that she is capable of getting herself out of this situation, that she will handle what's being thrown at her. "Do you really think they can handle the prey I caught?" Rafayel, like Xavier, and I'm sure like Zayne, knows she's capable of handling herself, and I love this aspect so much! Babying MCs gets soooo boring.

In fact, the thing about Rafayel is despite the fact that she seems to have forgotten (in his eyes) about the promise they made, he has so much faith in her. That's half his problem, really; if he could let go, maybe he wouldn't be so hurt and hung up, but he just has so much faith in her, in her capabilities, in what she can pull off. Papergames' writing is so clever here, leaving us off in chapter 7 with that moment of hesitation, where it appears like he almost leaves at the bottom of the ocean (and probably strongly considers it!) prior to getting her to safety and then taking on the Wanderer, only to turn around and make it look like he's lured her into a trap - but he and MC have talked about this! This is what she wants! Even if he DOES have ulterior motives, I still don't believe this is an act of betrayal - MC is going to do whatever she can to enter the N109 Zone, better it be this way than another.

These are not games where we can just look at the surface and call it what it looks like. And MC is not so naive. Again, she knows what she has to do to get in, and she's partaking in it. And Rafayel knows she won't make it easy for anyone in there.

I'm sure if it were up to him or Xavier, she wouldn't be entering such a dangerous place, but it's not up to them. They aren't her handlers, so they trust her to take care of herself, and it's so refreshing to see.

I think, too, Rafayel is doing exactly what Xavier told MC to do. He, too, has a role to play in his quest for revenge, in his relationship with this organization. He can't show his weakness, he can't show his fears. He can only trust that MC knows what she's doing and that she will take care of herself and has a way out, that if things go south, she'll get out of there (and maybe try to find a way to help her if he can lol).

I think some people look at characters like Rafayel and Xavier and only see what's on the very surface: a needy, clingy, drama queen; and a stoic, calm man. But why do you think they have bounties on their heads like that? And such large ones, at that? $100,000,000 for Xavier!!!!!! Rafayel is as cunning and clever as he is sassy and dramatic, as ruthless and cold as he is sensitive and emotional (in fact, that is likely why he is so ruthless and cold, someone so sensitive is so hurt by what has happened to his people, to his family, to the hurt and betrayals he has experienced). They're so much more than what you see on the surface, so full of depth and nuance and GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. Like I said before, I don't love Rafayel in spite of the resentment, I love him for it.

And Xavier, my GOD ;______; This chapter was such a feast for the Xavier fans lol His third anecdote BROKE me, just absolutely devastated me. That must have been the very first "version" of MC, the first time they ever met, the first time he fell for her, and it's so easy to see why he did - how she just saw him for him, how she helped buy him those pockets of freedom, the curiosity she took in him that enabled to help him. His desperation to help her, but coming back too late ;_____; THE AGONYYYYYYYYYY THE DEVASTATION ;_____; Losing her for the first time, AS SHE DIED IN HIS ARMS HELLO?! The reassurance she'll meet him again in her next life, that no matter how many times it takes, no matter where she is, he'll find her ;__________;

The certainty that he's the same Xavier from the myths, because she is the one who gave him the star charm, the one MC of the myth is so jealous of LMAO that he has lost her before and here he is, having finally found her, and having to assist her in preparation for such a dangerous mission. And again, I just love the agency - that he doesn't talk her out of it. Instead, he prepares her. Gives her everything she needs to go best protect herself and go in with a fighting's chance.

Even though there's a chance he could lose her again, that unwavering faith. ;~;

Something I especially loved about this was the inclusion of Jeremiah, because as @poisonheart pointed out, Jeremiah is the one who has seen both MC and Xavier without the other, knows what they mean to each other, and the significance of now, of a reunion, even if she doesn't know it's a reunion. And not just for Xavier, but for himself! She was his friend, too! Xavier isn't the only one who lost her. I still don't know what happened to her, but he lost her, too. "Were you able to stay calm when you saw her for the first time?" Because he probably struggled to do so! He even slipped up, telling her he didn't think he'd ever get a chance to help her.

It's such a momentous moment and she doesn't even know because they have these memories of a version of herself she doesn't know, a version of herself she knows nothing of ;~; And it breaks my heart.

There's something so understated about Xavier's "stoicism" - everything he has to mask, the hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years that he's spent quelling feelings. That he carries these memories and feelings that have never gone out, for someone who has had to get to know him all over again. Isn't that agonizing to think about? Meeting someone who you have an entire history with, so many memories of, but has no recollection, no knowledge of you? Meeting her again and waiting for feelings to blossom again - hoping they will because what if this is the time it doesn't happen what if this version of her never does - like WHAT IS THAT LIKE having to keep yourself at bay holding back your own feelings ;______;

MY AGONYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

And more than that it's like.... Jeremiah even mentioned the non interference rule and it certainly seems like Xavier maybe attempted it but.... how do you maintain that, how do you NOT interfere, when the person you've been searching for is right there, when something so awful has happened to her, when so many eyes are on her, when she's in such danger?

I JUST HAVE SO MANY FEEEEELIIIIIIINGGGSSSS ABOUT THEEEEEEMMMMMM ;________;

#Love and Deepspace #LADS Brainrot #Love and Deepspace spoilers #LADS Xavier #this post doesn't even say anything i'm just screaming my feelings into the void LMAO #GOD #too sleepy to write a good post forgive me

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dystopicjumpsuit · 3 months

Text

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 24

Lost Kingdoms

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings and tags: weapons; language; angst; minor spoilers for upcoming "Boil & Trouble" chapter.

Suggested Listening:

Summary: News arrives from an unexpected source.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings, "Double, Double Boil and Trouble" (part 2 here) and "Do It Again," but all the fics can be read as stand-alones.

In this hollow valley

This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

The second Cerra drew her blaster, every clone in the garage followed suit—except Rex. The newcomer’s face twisted contemptuously. He leaned casually against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest, not making a move for the dual blasters holstered to his thighs.

“Nice to see you, too, Cerra,” he said.

“Stand down,” Rex commanded.

Cerra growled. “How the hell did he find us?”

“I told him we were here,” Rex replied.

“What the kriff?” she asked, shocked. “You?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, trust me,” Rex said. “But he said he had urgent intel. Now stand down. That’s an order.”

The rest of the clones lowered their blasters, but Cerra refused, clenching her jaw stubbornly as she kept her weapon aimed at the intruder. Her pulse hammered, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“Didn’t realize you needed an attack dog, Rex,” the clone said.

“Who says this is about Rex?” Cerra snarled. “I’ll blast you just for my own satisfaction.”

“Same old Cerra,” the clone said. “You’re loyal, I’ll give you that.”

Rex reached out and rested his hand gently on Cerra’s shoulder until at last she complied and holstered her blaster. Gregor and the rest of the clones stared alternately between Cerra and the newcomer, confused and unsure of the situation but trusting Rex’s orders.

“What’s going on?” Fireball asked. “Who is this?”

“GAR’s biggest dickhole,” Cerra replied.

Rex sighed. “Everyone, this is Captain Hart.”

Judging by the blank expressions on the clones’ faces, the name meant nothing to any of them—except Nemec, whose eyebrows shot up. “The Captain Hart? I thought you were just a myth the shinies made up to give themselves hope after their first battle.”

“Oh, I’m real.” Hart glanced around the garage. “Quite the operation you have here, Rex, old man. Aren’t you worried a repair shop full of clone troopers is going to attract attention?”

“This deep in the lower levels?” Cerra asked. “Nobody cares what happens down here.”

“You might be surprised,” Hart replied, sauntering closer to the group. “I’ve stayed off the scopes of the Empire and the Republic for a long time, and I didn’t do it by being this careless or stupid.”

“You always this charmin’?” Gregor asked, arching an eyebrow.

“This is him at his most charming,” Cerra cut in.

“Why are you here, Hart?” Rex asked. “You’re making me regret agreeing to this meeting.”

“Hospitable crowd,” Hart replied sardonically.

“You got a bounty on your head yet?” Cerra asked, quickly running out of patience. “I could use the credits.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” he shrugged. “You definitely do, though. Congratulations, Cerra. You’re wanted for murder and treason.”

Shocked silence descended abruptly on the garage as every gaze snapped toward Hart. Cerra’s breath stuttered to a halt, her mouth feeling suddenly very dry.

“What are you talking about?” Rex demanded. “Where did you learn that?”

“Got a lead on a new agency—Imperial Security Bureau, they’re calling it,” Hart replied. “Doesn’t matter how I know, and I’m not revealing my source, so don’t bother asking. They sent me this.”

He tossed a datachip to Rex, who plugged it into the holotable. A datafile flickered into view. Cerra stared into a hologram of her own face, accompanied by a brief but damning wall of text.

IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU Case #21118378 Suspect Identification Name: CERRA KILIAN Chain Code: NONE Occupation: SOLDIER - DESERTED Wanted for: MURDER; TERRORISM; TREASON Status: AT LARGE Criminal Profile Criminal Activity: Abandonment of post; murder of Imperial officer; impersonation of an Imperial officer; destruction of Imperial property; theft of Imperial property; aiding and abetting a Jedi fugitive; seditious activities; spice running Arrest Record: ISB #4212187 - DAIYU Known Associates: Admiral (retired) Shoan Kilian - uncle, estranged (see interrogation record #57047195) CT-7567, Clone Captain "Rex" - DECEASED (disputed, see casefile #5127066) CT-5555, ARC Trooper "Fives" - DECEASED CT-5385, Clone Trooper "Tup" - DECEASED CT-5597, ARC Trooper "Jesse" - DECEASED CT -6116, Clone Medic "Kix" - MISSING IN ACTION Remarks: Suspect has extensive combat training and experience. Consider armed and extremely dangerous. Escaped custody after killing an ISB interrogating officer and stealing an Imperial shuttle. Linked to suspected terrorist organization - if possible, apprehend alive for further interrogation. Current Location: UNKNOWN

Cerra’s heart stood still as she read “Shoan Kilian - uncle, estranged (see interrogation record #57047195).” Please, Maker, no. She couldn’t bear the thought of Shoan being subjected to the ISB’s interrogation methods. He was a tough old man, but for kriff’s sake, he’d suffered enough.

“Not a half-bad holo of me,” she said with a forced laugh. “You know, for being taken in a holding cell.”

“Karabast,” Rex said grimly. “I guess this confirms our intel about the secret intelligence agency.”

“Oh, I got confirmation firsthand,” Cerra replied, gesturing toward her bruised, battered face. “Just hadn’t had a chance to tell you yet.”

“Anything in that datafile true?” Hart asked.

The group fell silent as they all turned to Cerra, awaiting her response.

“They’re half right,” she replied uneasily. “It’s not murder when it’s self-defense, though I doubt the Empire would agree. Can’t say they’re wrong about the treason part, though.”

“And the rest?” Hart pressed. “Terrorism? The Jedi?”

“No idea what they’re talking about,” she lied. “Making kark up for propaganda.”

“What propaganda?” Hart demanded. “This is an internal ISB datafile. Nobody is supposed to see it.”

“I don’t kriffin’ know,” she snapped. “Maybe they think I’m someone else. Or maybe somebody with a grudge is finding a way to justify the resources to hunt me down. Or—or—I don’t kriffin’ know!”

No way in hell was she revealing to Hart what Yularen had told her about Ahsoka Tano. Rex might trust him—Maker alone knew why after the shit Hart had pulled—but Cerra wasn’t taking a chance. Particularly not before she told Rex; he’d been close to the young Jedi, and he would want to know she had survived the carnage of Order 66. How the hell did everything fall apart so quickly? What the kriff am I supposed to do now?

“It doesn’t matter. The question we should be asking is what we’re going to do about it,” Rex said, as if he’d read her mind.

Cerra licked her dry, chapped lips as she considered. Rex was right. This changed things. With the ISB hunting her, she’d be putting the rest of the team at risk if she stayed at the garage. They couldn’t take that kind of heat. Her heart gave a painfully hard thump as she realized what this meant.

“It’s not like this is a surprise,” Gregor said, meeting Cerra’s eyes. “The Empire was never going to just let you walk away. Besides, you’ve been wanted for years.”

“This is different,” she argued. “Nobody was that interested in tracking down a nat-born deserter. But with these charges? They’re interested now.”

“They’re offering a bounty,” Hart interjected. “Sixty thousand credits.”

“Fierfek,” Nemec muttered.

“We can handle a bounty hunter or two,” Gregor said.

“It’s not going to be that easy, and you know it,” Cerra replied.

“There are options,” Hart said quietly, and if Cerra hadn’t known what an absolute dickbag he was, she would have thought his voice held a sympathetic note.

Nemec jerked his head toward Hart, his eyes growing hard. Cerra forced herself to keep her breath at an even pace even as her palms grew damp and her heart raced so fast she could hear it thundering in her head. She fought down the rising tide of panic as she silently ordered herself to hold it together.

“No.” Rex’s voice was firm. “Not a chance.”

“Hart is right,” Cerra said hollowly. “I’m endangering everyone else by staying.”

Her eyes stung and her vision blurred. She inhaled carefully through her nose to try to force the tears back down.

“Cerra?” Fireball stared at her, distress and confusion in his eyes. “What are you saying?”

She turned to Rex, her eyes begging him to give the explanation that she couldn’t bring herself to speak aloud.

“Hart has… connections,” Rex said slowly. “He’s been helping clones disappear from the GAR and the Empire for years.”

“What do you mean, ‘disappear’?” Gregor asked. “Go AWOL like us?”

“Not exactly,” Rex replied.

“I’m not that sloppy,” Hart cut in.

“Kriff me, you really are a dickhole,” Gregor said without heat.

“Call me whatever you want,” Hart shrugged. “Doesn’t make me wrong.”

Rex steered the conversation back to the point. “When Hart extracts someone, he sets it up so no one will ever come looking for them. If they were on active duty, they’d go MIA during a battle, or they’d end up listed as killed in action.”

“And then?” Gregor asked.

“Then, nobody would ever see them again,” Nemec said. “So the rumors really are true.”

Gregor glanced back and forth between Rex and Cerra. “How long have you two known about his little operation?”

Rex hesitated, so Cerra replied, her voice coming out in a hoarse croak. “A while.”

Gregor was silent for a moment. “You’ve used him before, haven’t you?”

“Believe me, we wouldn’t have if there’d been any other way,” Rex said.

Gregor waited expectantly, and when none of the three seemed inclined to elaborate, he asked, “Are you going to tell us—”

“No.” Three voices snapped simultaneously.

The commando shrugged. “Worth a try.”

A tense, uncomfortable silence descended. Nobody seemed eager to break it, but inevitably, Rex turned to Cerra.

“I can’t order you to stay,” he said slowly. “But, Cerra, you don’t have to go.”

“It’s the smart move,” she said quietly.

“Banthashit,” Gregor snapped. “Everyone in this garage is either wanted or presumed dead. What makes you think you’re so special that you should be the one to leave?”

Cerra stared at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. Her stomach churned, and for a moment, she thought she might actually throw up.

“It’s a little harder to fade into the crowd when there aren’t millions of people walking around with the same face as you,” Hart pointed out.

“Are you really going to stand there and pretend you need to sacrifice yourself to protect the rest of us?” Gregor continued inexorably, ignoring Hart’s interruption and stepping closer to Cerra. “We’re soldiers, for kark’s sake. We can take care of ourselves. And there isn’t a clone in this room who’ll agree to this.”

“Gregor—” Cerra began, still refusing to look him in the eyes.

“Ask them!” he exclaimed. “You think Fireball is just going to let you walk away? Nemec? Fuck, Cerra, do you think I’m going to let you go?”

She looked up, and the abrupt motion finally caused her tears to overflow. She inhaled shakily. “I—”

Gregor rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I know your head is all twisted up because your family rejected you when you needed them most, but we’re not them. We’re not going to turn our backs on you.”

Her chest felt tight; her throat too tense to speak. Her head ached with the effort of holding herself together when the galaxy was falling apart around her.

“Can someone make a Force-damned decision soon?” Hart demanded. “I don’t have all day to stand around watching a holodrama.”

“Leave, then,” Gregor replied, not taking his eyes from Cerra’s. “Nobody here needs you.”

Hart looked impatiently at Rex, who frowned. “It’s her call.”

“The hell it is,” Fireball blurted. “She belongs here.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Nemec added.

Something deep inside Cerra’s chest cracked and crumbled, and she gave a pained gasp, her eyes darting around the group as she realized something she should have known from the very beginning: she wasn’t alone, and she never had been.

“Well?” Hart asked impatiently.

She turned to him, her gasping desperately as she tried to formulate a response.

“You’re not—” Fireball swallowed hard. “You’re not going with him, are you, Cerra?”

She wiped her tears ruthlessly away with her clenched fist, and at last, she spoke. “No, Fireball. Not today.”

“Not ever,” Gregor said firmly.

“Don’t say I didn’t try,” Hart muttered with a resigned expression. He rummaged through his pockets and eventually pulled out a scrap of flimsi, which he handed to Cerra. “If you change your mind.”

She glanced at the card. “A fortune teller?”

Hart nodded shortly. “Ask for Tas. Tell her I sent you. She’ll know what to do.”

Cerra tucked the card into her pocket and finally asked the question that had been bothering her since Hart had shown them the datafile. “Why are you helping me?”

He almost smiled. Almost. “We used to be friends.”

“So this is, what, nostalgia?” she asked. “Seriously, why did you come here? You could have just sent us the datafile. Why risk it?”

He observed her for a moment, considering his words before he replied. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it's a damned time bomb out there. We don’t stand a chance on our own. Kriff, we might not stand a chance together, either. But it’s worth a shot, don’t you think?”

“You want to be allies now?” Rex asked. “After everything?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve put aside our differences for the greater good,” Hart said pointedly. “Look, I don’t expect you to trust me, at least not any time soon. But the time might come when some of you will need to escape the Empire’s attention for good. When it does, you know how to reach me.”

With that, he turned and stalked toward the exit. Rex walked with him, and as they reached the landing platform, he drew a deep breath.

“Spit it out,” Hart ordered.

“How is she?” Rex asked quietly.

Hart froze, then turned to Rex with an icy glare. “She is none of your business any more, and she never will be.”

Rex clenched his jaw and looked away. Hart stared at him for a moment before he sighed and relented.

“She’s fine. She’s… with our mutual friend at the moment.”

Rex’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You mean—”

Hart grunted, mounted his speeder bike, and without another word, he was gone.

Inside the garage, the group relaxed slightly. Howzer and his men milled about somewhat awkwardly, while Fireball and Nemec showed signs of wanting to celebrate Cerra’s return at last. She cast a longing glance toward the refresher, fantasizing about the shower that she still hadn’t gotten, but before she could excuse herself to go get cleaned up, Gregor tugged her behind a stack of crates for privacy.

He traced his fingertips along her jaw, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “You all right? That was a hell of a welcome home.”

Home. The word echoed in her mind, and she leaned close to Gregor, burying her face into the nook where his neck met his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her and held her in a comforting embrace.

“Your fight isn’t over yet, Cerra Kilian,” he murmured.

She shook her head slightly. “It’s a big fight, Gregor.”

He kissed the side of her head softly. “Good thing I’m here to watch your back.”

---

Next chapter

Thank you so much to @nika6q for the stunning mugshot of Cerra! I appreciate you more than words can say.

#echo tbb #captain gregor #captain rex #riyo chuchi #oc: cerra kilian #echo x riyo chuchi #gregor x oc #clone trooper nemec #clone trooper fireball #star wars #the bad batch #star wars fanfic #tbb fanfic #stars beyond number #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

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pnakotus · 1 year

Text

Nyarlathotep's Mind

I - A Note on Canon, or Lack Thereof

Lovecraft did not care for canon. The collective body of his works has no canon. Instead it is known as a mythos - a loose collection of everchanging stories that feature shared characters and concepts.

In true mythos fashion, Lovecraft encouraged his contemporaries to make their own contributions to this emerging myth-cycle. This is important for understanding Lovecraft’s work. Nothing is canon, not even the stories themselves.

This is a desirable state of affairs.

As such, I may make use of terms and ideas derived from Lovecraft’s friends and disciples, and perhaps even myself in this analysis.

II - Introduction

Nyarlathotep is an Outer God. Outer Gods are nigh-omnipotent, extra-cosmic entities that exist outside (beneath, at the centre of) Creation. These beings are responsible for the creation of every universe, each governed by its own unique physics. (FfY) Because Nyarlathotep is capable of taking any form it wishes and controlling physics and metaphysics alike, (DQoUK) I will be using the pronoun "It" to refer to the entity. Nyarlathotep is unique among the Outer Gods for three reasons.

It is sentient.

It has a sense of self.

It has a personality

That personality will be the focus of this post.

III - Form and Mannerisms

And at the last from inner Egypt came The strange dark One to whom the fellahs bowed; Silent and lean and cryptically proud, And wrapped in fabrics red as sunset flame.

Then down the wide lane betwixt the two columns a lone figure strode; a tall, slim figure with the young face of an anique Pharaoh, gay with prismatic robes and crowned with a golden pshent that glowed with inherent light. [...] whose proud carriage and smart features had in them the fascination of a dark god or fallen archangel, and around whose eyes there lurked the languid sparkle of capricious humour. It spoke, and in its mellow tones there rippled the wild music of Lethean streams.

When manifesting before humans, Nyarlathotep takes the form of a charismatic human. In this form, It can often be identified by brightly colored robes, and an entourage of outlandish or monstrous followers. (DQoUK, (FfY)

Hearing Nyarlathotep speak often causes memory loss. (N) It is prone to grandiose and poignant speeches, and knows the innermost desires and essence of those it speaks to. Below is a small portion of the speech Nyarlathotep delivered to the Dreamer Randolph Carter.

"For you know, that your gold and marble city of wonder is only the sum of what you have seen and loved in youth. It is the glory of Boston's hillside roofs and western windows aflame with sunset, of the flower-fragrant Common and the great dome on the hill and the tangle of gables and chimneys in the violet valley where the many-bridged Charles flows drowsily. These things you saw, Randolph Carter, when your nurse first wheeled you out in the springtime, and they will be the last things you will ever see with eyes of memory and love."

It perfectly grasps what Randolph Carter is, what he wants, and who he will die as.

Nyarlathotep is said to have a thousand other forms, although it is likely the actual number is as high as it needs to be. It tells Randolph Carter to pray that he never meets It in one of these "thousand other forms".

Nyarlathotep will refer to obscure (maybe even personal) events to make Its points, frequently giving the impression that It was actually present when a given event took place.

Maybe It was.

It is devious, and will use Its knowledge of a person and skill in rhetoric to gain the trust of anyone It encounters. In human form, Nyarlathotep comes across as godlike, but good-humored and approachable. It is not above deception, and will lie to suit Its aims, or simply for amusement.

It gives a lengthy and soothing speech to Randolph Carter, before sending him on the final stretch of his quest. Carter slowly realizes that all of Nyarlathotep's praise, was in fact, ironic mockery, and that he has been tricked and sent to his doom.

It seems that the Crawling Chaos is fond of the "Show, Don't Tell" maxim.

IV - Apocalypse Artist

While Nyarlathotep fits nicely into the role of the trickster, Lovecraft depicted Nyarlathotep as a showman, or performance artist. The short story Nyarlathotep, based on a nightmare Lovecraft once had, illuminates this aspect of the deity.

"Men advised one another to see Nyarlathotep, and shuddered. And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished; for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare."

Nyarlathotep appears once again in human form. It walks world, spreading terror and madness in Its wake. It uses strange electrical devices resembling film projectors to show scenes of the end of the cosmos.

"And I saw the world battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirring, churning, struggling around the dimming, cooling sun."

Once again, it should be noted that Nyarlathotep sticks to the "Show, Don't Tell" approach, saying nothing remarkable, but letting the imagery do the soul-destroying.

Lovecraft's poetry confirms that what Nyarlathotep shows is actually the future. (FfY)

I believe (headcanon?, interpret?) that Nyarlathotep attained sentience (has always been sentient) by unconsciously mimicking living things. I'll delve more into this later, but it's relevant right now because I view Nyarlathotep's fondness of showing people the Truth as an attempt to express Itself. Its fellow Gods can offer no companionship, and so It is forced to make do with lesser beings.

Nyarlathotep's showings of such cataclysmic events as the death of the universe could be an attempt to give such limited beings a mere glimpse of Its divine perception.

"... whirled blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low."

V - Reluctant Deity

Nyarlathotep is known as the "Heart and Soul of the Outer Gods". It acts as Their messenger and carries out Their strange and alien Will. (FfY)

Nyarlathotep's chief duties are punishing those who act in defiance of cosmic order, and protecting (read; babysitting) lesser entities under the protection of the Outer Gods. It is unclear how a being comes into the favor of the Outer Gods, but Nyarlathotep is contemptuous of those it protects, often bullying them.

It wields unlimited power against the foolhardy beings who would attempt to win themselves divinity or otherwise meddle with the cosmos, such as challenging protected entities (sometimes dubbed 'petty gods'), or looking into alternate universes.

While those who defy the will of the Outer Gods are usually punished by way of total annihilation, Nyarlathotep, true to Its nature as a performer, likes to give Its targets a chance to realize their fate. Once again, the "Show, Don't Tell" maxim comes into play.

Nyarlathotep will not give out lengthy monologues about the horrible fate awaiting Its victims.

Instead, It will sing their praises as It engineers a scenario that ends in their destruction. Such scenarios give the victims enough time to piece together Nyarlathotep's true intentions before having their bodies and souls unmade.

Despite being the Heart and Soul of the Outer Gods, Nyarlathotep holds them in great contempt. (FfY)

In The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, It refers to them as "good gods to shun", and commits acts of disrespect against them in sonnet 22 of Fungi from Yuggoth. It cannot actually harm the Outer Gods or Their servants, but It will torment them nonetheless.

Gods have no need for sentience, as they have no threats to overcome. Nyarlathotep is an outsider among Its own kind. Nothing else other than Its idiot kin can approach on equal footing. Nothing else can be a peer to It.

I believe that Nyarlathotep resents the Outer Gods for never "waking up" as It did, and leaving It alone for eternity.

Works Cited

Fungi from Yuggoth, 1930

The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, 1927

Nyarlathotep, 1920

#cthulhu mythos #yog sothoth cycle #my writing #literature #h.p. lovecraft #lovecraft #nyarlathotep

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yourvirtualgoddessforlife · 1 year

Note

Hello and happy new year! If your requests are open, can you please write for Primis Edward Richtofen and his s/o reader who wants to take him stargazing? They do it to help his mind relax and it slowly evolves into accidently falling asleep under them (thank gosh Nikolai was on watch duty). P.S. Edward is the little spoon

All of the stars

Primis Edward Richtofen x g/n reader

A/N: I'm screaming you don't understand how much I love this man 😍

Most likely spelling mistakes as I'm writing on mobile right now (I'm at home sick) but I'll spell check and edit tomorrow

Thank you for the request!

~~~~~

It was an unusual request. Certainly not the strangest he'd heard but that didn't stop him from being thrown off guard. If any of the others had of asked he would of laughed at them and checked them over to made sure they were still rational but when you asked.

"Edward! Come and join me, I want to stargaze."

He laughed and took a moment to process. "Is now really the right time? The others--"

"When else do we get time?" You scrutinised him, noise scrunching. "Nikolai is on watch so we can sneak away for at least a couple of minutes."

He wasn't surprised that he relented. Part of his mind is convinced he'd stop everything and steal the moon for you if you asked. Smaller requests like spending time with him? Of course he'd follow you.

There wasn't anything around where the group decided to stay, hunkered down in a ruined farm house far away from any towns. There wasn't many places to go from here except from a hill by the edge of a forest on which you had already laid a blanket, of course you had planned this out.

Richtofen watched as you sat down crossed legged on the blanket and stared up at him expectantly. He imagines how odd he must look from your perspective, standing there with a confused expression. He was confused. You always confused him. He couldn't deny it. After a moment and a quick shake of his head to clear his mind he joined you on the blanket. He was stiff still unsure of how to act and not to mention he decided to sit across from you, the action making you laugh quietly.

"Here, Edward." You said patting the spot on the blanket next to you. He followed your instructions but slowly. By the time he'd sat where you'd asked, you decided to take the initiative and grab him around the torso and dragging him to lie down on the blanket, laughing as you land on top of him.

It took a moment but he wrapped his arms around you. In that moment of peace his mind ran wild. Why did you ask him to be out here and is he ruining the moment with his uncertainty? You didn't seem to mind, contently resting in his arms staring up at the sky. As time ticked by he settled, placing a kiss to the top of your head while trying to remember what each constellation he could see was called.

"Ah ha! I knew I knew it!" he leans up, triumphantly.

"Knew what?" He noticed he pushed you off when he leaned up and yet you still asked him questions entirely unbothered.

"Err, sorry." He apologises while you lie back down, pulling him down to lay on you. "Those stars over there, I was struggling to remember what they were called. Großer Bär"

"Großer Bär?"

"Ja, Ursa Major."

"Oh! The bear one!" You laughed as you realised which he was referring to. "The great bear is Callisto, one of the lovers of Zeus."

"You know the stories?"

"Yeah. Mythology is fascinating." Mindlessly you begin stroking his hair while you explain the myth of Callisto and her son. He's ashamed to admit he wasn't listening. All Edward could focus on was your hands holding him close and the continual beats of your heart.

He doesn't know when he fell asleep but when he woke up he was still in your arms face pressed against your chest as he tries to remember why he woke up.

"I told you to wake up, German." The voice addressing him held a thick Russian accent. "You've both been out here for far too long."

"Nikolai, mein Freund, thank you for covering watch tonight."

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod zombies #edward richtofen x reader #edward richtofen #nikolai belinski #primis richtofen #~vivanilla's personal faves

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the-goblin-cat · 12 days

Note

whole hog: henry sinclair

Time for the man, the myth, the legend...

Henry is the protag of my novel, read it here

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

There's nothing behind this name at all. It sounded both bougie and old timey American, which I was going for due to him originally being from New England.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Henry starts off Dream Quest at 14, and turns 15 at some point during the story. Like Cherise and Neville, he will continue to age as the stories go on and be in his 20s in the final arc

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Henry's primary love interest is Ayane, the dream spirit/tulpa of a popular fictional character he brought home from the Dreamlands. However they aren't going to get together just yet; he'll date a couple other girls before they come to terms with their feelings.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Chicken parmesan for dinner, baklava and black coffee for dessert

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Henry is a student at the current age. His family is too affluent for him to have to work for a living. The trajectory of his life is such that he will likely either join the magic council of San Francisco or be shipped off to Greece to apprentice under his "grandfather," really his immortal ancestor Lelantos. However, most likely, he will not do any of that.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Henry loves to read heavy tomes, usually fantasy novels if they aren't arcane grimoires.

🎯 -What do they do best?

Henry's greatest talent as a practitioner is to alter the shape and properties of earthen materials. He can make stone and metal soft and spongy on contact or shape it with his hands, which he is quite good at.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Henry loves to sing, and will probably lean more into music as an escape after returning him. He is starting to learn that he hates being told what do do and will soon enter his rebellious phase.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

We explore it in the dream quest novel! He remembers going to the beach as a toddler with his mother. This is one of his last memories of her before she died.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Probably what came right after the last one, being told that she had died. I have not fleshed out the details of that incident however.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Like Neville, he underwent a latinization lmao. He was originally a pasty white boy and is now mixed white/afro-latino. I think of this era as the "punished Henry" design since he has grown his hair out long and lost his arm, which were both absent originally.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

the deep lore is that he was based on a big name fan's homestuck fankid. I don't remember either of their names. Just know that someone else made up a black haired child with a big blue coat who was interested in the occult.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Seeing as he was raised among magic with it as his birthright, and is in the process of becoming even more magical, he could only ever be a fantasy character. He would probably do well in one of those political fantasies about warring houses though, mind you.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Henry is cis and bisexual. I know I said he mostly dates girls back there, but he will show interest in at least a couple boys at one point.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

Henry has no siblings. He does however have a younger cousin, Ruby, with whom he has been raised, and they see each other as siblings.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Henry really wishes they were still alive. He instead is being raised by his aunt. She is a cold woman and difficult to please, but can be loving now and then. He is starting to distrust her, however.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

He just has a certain je ne sais quo...

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

There was a period where I didn't talk about him at all because I was unsatisfied with his original introduction and wanted to write a new one. Then when that was done I never shut up about him.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

If Henry dies he will simply hatch out of the corpse like a cicada.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Surprisingly no.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

For nemeses he has his evil genderbent doppelganger from the mirror dimension, Leila. I suppose they could also be construed as rivals due to being in the same age range and having similar abilities. literal foils and such. He is also going to come to hate his grandfather.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

November of 2013. I remember because it was a NaNo project.

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

21...

#ask game #henry sinclair #filmverse

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oleander-neruim · 30 days

Note

Hello hello!! Absolutely pumped for the Myth’s Voyage AU :DD!!

What made you pick certain characters for certain roles? I’m particularly interested by Owen as Antinous 👀👀

Bare with me this is gonna be a doozy

I'll be honest. It all started with me being real emotionally attached to p!Will & me falling down a rabbit hole of associating the song "Open Arms" with him because- even if I'm not fully read on p!Will's story & character- the way I've come to view him is a relatively forgiving and optimistic type of person. So him as Polities came natually.

I also have a frequent habit of doing a thing where when I associate one character to one song/character of a musical, I start to try and figure if there's way to fit in other characters.

I believe what came next was Sausage and if I recall correctly, that was due to 1. Me just liking Sausage all together and 2. Me seeing him as the most "Captian-Like" guy in pirates. Also revolving around headcanons, others' interpretations, and maybe an artist or two's ways of drawing him. After that, Joel & Hermes as Penelope and Telemachus came pretty easy. I've also played around with previous ideas of "What if Joel was in Pirates SMP" and added in my constant Empires Brainrot ™️, that all just fell into place.

I believe Lizzie was my first established God cos. Giant fish/ocean associated person, yk. And then Jimmy as Polyphemus due to fishy relations and then I think Fwhip was actually my next one due to the "silly & unhinged" vibes I got from Epic Hermes. Then with a lot more stubborn brain storming, more and more gods fell into place as I started following an Empires Season 1 pattern with the Gods

Krow was also a fun one to workshop in cos I also don't know much about his Canon character but what I do know & just the fascination I've gotten with him, I thought he fit the role of Eurylochus pretty well. Mostly on the side of more of a survivor when it comes down to a "You vs Me" mentality & leaning more on aggressive tactics when it comes to handling certain situations. He is one of the ones I'm certain doesn't fall into complete Canon-type of personality, but I like how my au's Krow is a lot.

Now. The fun situation with the suitors and Ithica in general.

I can explain a bit further if anyone's interested, but the way my storyline worked out is that there's actually no Herons that are part of Sausage's crew in the story. They're either still on the Faction Isles or traveling elsewhere. Having said that, when I came around to figuring out Antinous, it was right when I was finding out very bare-bones about him. And given that the Heron characters will ideally be characters shown on "Ithica" I was working to see if anyone would fit that roll.

Having said that, Antinous was noted down in my "Working-Out" list with the note of "Mr. Steal your wife and kill your son" and while discussing my character plans with my partner, we started to joke about Antinous being Owen. Given her more player-esque personality, at the time I figured it'd be a decent fit- or at least a place holder- for a character who I started to think was just someone wanting to court "Penelope".

However, thinking more on it & finding out better how Antinous plays in this story, I started getting more invested in the idea of Owen still being him. The idea of Owen becoming a villain, manipulative with his charm and almost vindictive in her motives just started to appeal more and more to me.

When this takes place, it's 20 years since the rough-end of Pirates SMP, following Epic the Musical's timeline. A lot can change in a person in 20 years. Seeing the Factions fall, loves in your life die or disappear, people coming into power that you feel either don't deserve it or are strangers who don't understand all that's happened here or you feel are too weak irresponsible to handle it. It can grate on a person, certainly.

P!Owen is, once again, another character I'm unfortunately not fully familiar with, though that may change if i have a chance to watch his pov in the future. And who knows, maybe I'll workshop the story, change e!Owen's personality or motives, maybe even choose someone else entirely to fit the role.

But as it stands, the idea of e!Owen, 20 years in the future with heavens knows how much baggage and pent up anger and frustrations left on his shoulders starting to get desperate or almost hungry even for some sort of control or power or just even a sense of stability in her life just seems to be a very interesting & fun-to-work-with storyline to me.

Thinking about seeing Owen getting aggressive and animalistic and breaking that carefully-crafted facade of charm and control when it comes to fighting and trying to kill someone just. It's so interesting and fascinating in my mind, you've no idea.

And, again, I'm awfully weak to villain Owen nonesense so that certainly doesn't help.

There you have it. My essay & a half summary over some of my reasonings.

Again, things are always subject to change and sometimes I get a little Silly with my trains of thoughts but, hey, it'll be fun either way. If you're interested in me trying to explain my through process for more characters, feel free to ask, I just figured I'd keep this as short as i can physically manage. If it comes off as a bit rambling or you want me to clear anything up, you're always welcome to ask. It's technically super late for me so my writing compression might be a bit off.

Tl;Dr, I zone out to music and play "Song Association Games" too much & Owen as Antinous started off as a silly joke but now it's eating my brain whole so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#i spent my whole 30 minute ride home writing this goodness #hope this helps (i may be insane its fine)#writing this was actually so much fun im gonna be nuts with this au #VoyageQueries #A Myth's Voyage AU #pirates smp #pirates smp au #ollie answers #🪽

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fictive-fodder · 2 years

Text

|| Steven Grant vs. You : III ||

A tiny story where you discover that your sweet, handsome coworker is just as much into Egyptology as you are into ancient Greece- and the playful battle that ensues.

PART I - PART II - PART III

Word Count: 2.9K

Tag List

Read this on A03!

Referenced works- Hesiod. Theogony and Works and Days (Oxford World's Classics) OUP Oxford. Richard Mayde. Ancient Egypt, Dodd, Mead Gerald D. Waxman, Astronomical Tidbits: A Layperson's Guide to Astronomy

Let us begin our singing. It will haunt this great and holy mountain, and we will dance on our soft feet round the violet-dark spring and the altar of the mighty son of Kronos. We will bathe our gentle skin in Permessos. Then, on the highest slope we will make our dances, fair and lovely, stepping lively in time. From there we go forth, veiled in thick mist, and walk by night, uttering beautiful voice.

So said mighty Zeus’ daughters, they breathed into me wondrous voice, so that I should celebrate things of the future and things that were aforetime. Come now, from the Muses let us begin, as they tell of what is and what shall be and what was aforetime, voices in unison. The words flow untiring from their mouths, and sweet.

“I mean… just wow…” Steven sighed, eyes twinkling at you from across your desk.

“I know.” You nodded with deep satisfaction.

“You’re right, too.” he continued, “You really do get this sense that they were there.”

“It feels like it, huh?” you agreed, “With ancient Egypt, you have Pharaoh as the representative of higher power, but there isn’t this deep and messy interaction with the gods that I’ve come to love so much out of Greek myth. Especially when historical artists made work where they themselves interacted with gods, or were at least in conversation with them, like this or like Sappho.”

Lately, when Steven worked mornings, he had taken to peering into your cubicle on his breaks to see if you weren’t too busy for him to visit. It was quickly becoming your favorite ritual, and you found yourself often looking past your cubicle’s entrance as if you could will his curly head of hair to appear.

“I think the closest equivalent I can come to is the temple of Philae…” Steven thought aloud, he leaned over your desk excitedly. You smiled, nodding as you thought of the description of it in the book Steven lent you.

Close by this temple of Osiris at Philae was a small one, dedicated to his queen and sister, Isis. A later writer speaks of it as “the most strangely wild and beautiful spot he ever beheld. Here spreads a deep drift of silvery sand, fringed by rich verdure and purple blossoms; there, a grove of palms, intermingled with flowering acacia; and there, through vistas of craggy cliffs and gloomy foliage, gleams a calm blue lake, with the sacred island in the midst, green to the water’s edge, except where the walls of the old temple city are reflected.”

“From the little I’ve glimpsed so far, it seems like Osirus and Isis’ marriage is a very popular story?”

“Oh, yea, super.” Steven nodded significantly. “And for good reason too- I mean sewing your husband’s body back from fourteen pieces is quite a testimony to your love, I think.” There was a quiet pause as you took a moment to make sure the two of you were still being ignored, before Steven continued, “Is there a love story you like from Greek mythology?”

“Oh-” you took in a deep breath, overwhelmed by the question. “There are so many… I mean so, so many. You have the big ones, you know- like Odysseus and Penelope, Patroclus and Achilles, Hades and Persephone, the love triangle of Aphrodite, Ares and Hephaestus… the Greeks adored a good love story. They had 8 different kinds of Love, after all.”

“Eight, really?” Steven asked, leaning even further over your desk, his smile unfading.

“Yes! You have Storge, familial love. Philautia, self love. Agape, which I quite like, that’s love for everyone.”

“Ooh that’s very grand.” Steven chuckled.

“It is! Philia is also lovely- that’s deep friendship.”

“Alright, that was four.” he counted, tilting his head as he looked into your eyes. If there were any emails or phone calls incoming you would have never known. You met Steven’s gaze, smiling back at him and feeling, strangely, as if you couldn’t inhale as much air as you would like to.

“Mhm… then we have Mania, which is obsessive love. You know, when you can’t stop thinking about someone and you’re just-” you shook your head, grinning, “kinda like when you first fall in love for someone, really hard, and you can’t think about anything else, you’re just tortured?”

A change passed over Steven’s face that was initially hard for you to read. At first, you thought the brightness of his eyes dimmed at your last words, but as you searched his face you realized that his eyes weren’t less bright due to dismay or boredom, they were less bright because his pupils were dilating as he watched you. Steven was so close to you that you could even see your own silhouette in his widening gaze.

“Um…” you continued on, swallowing dryly, “A..Another favorite of mine, Ludus… which is playful love, or like- young love. Eros, probably the best known, as it’s the spicy one. And lastly you have the love I’m certain Osirus and Isis shared…”

“What’s that one called?” Steven asked, eyes widening.

“Pragma, longstanding love… kind of the end goal, really.”

You jumped with a start as your desk phone began to ring loudly. Steven cleared his throat, pulling himself off of your desk and back into his chair, rubbing the side of his face with one hand as you twisted to pick up your phone. You frowned as you recognized the number on caller i.d. to be the gift shop’s extension. “Ut oh Steven…” you mumbled, picking up the phone. “Reception- how can I help you?” you answered as neutrally as possible, but you almost lost your professional composure as you glanced nervously at Steven, and found him staring at you like a child caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

“Hello- could you please tell me if there is a gift shop employee in the office? His name is Stevie?”

“Stevie?” you repeated, confused. Steven rolled his eyes, exasperated. “No, there is definitely no Stevie here I’m sorry to say… office is pretty empty. Is there something I can help you wi-” the phone clicked in your ear. Frowning, you pulled the receiver away from you to look at it, before hanging up the line and looking at Steven.

“Did Donna just hang up on you?” he asked, startled.

“I think she did?” you replied laughing, aghast.

“Oi- I hate that, I’m sorry.” Steven grimaced, standing up. “I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

“I’m not concerned, we work in two totally separate departments.” you shrugged. This seemed to reassure Steven as he patted down his pants pockets and made sure he had everything.

“Time to go sell some plastic ankhs?” you teased, grinning.

“Oh yes.” Steven replied lamely. “Some Nike of Samothrace snow globes as well.”

“Ouch- you got me.” you laughed, standing up too. You opened your mouth to ask about seeing him for lunch before you stopped yourself- what if you were being too demanding of his attention? With these new visits, any free time Steven had was being claimed by you. It felt presumptive to assume he wouldn’t like some time for himself. “Um… do you have any plans you're looking forward to, today?”

“Finishing the Theogony, that’s about it.” Steven replied, stepping out of your cubicle. “Talk about it over lunch, yea?”

You felt yourself blush. “If you want to!”

“Cheers!” Steven exclaimed, before darting away.

You sat back in your office chair and swiveled to face your computer, smiling to yourself. Steven was good. He was so, so good. Sighing dreamily, you refreshed your email and watched your screen filled with messages.

As you clicked through your emails you couldn’t help but to keep thinking about Steven, how lucky you were to become friends after only a few weeks of working at the museum. Even though Donna and Steven’s relationship didn’t seem great, part of you envied the amount they got to interact as a team. Your role was mostly emails between curators, accountants, marketing agents, and the Liaison Department.

You straightened in your chair as something occurred to you, hadn’t Steven said that he wanted to be a tour guide? You opened an email from Marketing briefing the Liaison Department on a new collection of work that would be showcased soon, asking the liaisons to study up on the attached pdf’s of art history so they could speak about the collection. You still hadn’t figured out why you seemed to be CC’d on every single email from any department under the museum roof, but now that didn’t seem so bad. They were all there- any branch manager you needed was available to you… even the curation team for the ancient Egyptian collection.

“What have you got today?” you asked as you sat down beside Steven in the break room.

“I think what you mean is, what have I got us today!”’ Steven said triumphantly, as he pulled from his bag not one, but two lunches.

“What!” you exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

“Yea dove I made you lunch!” Steven grinned, all the more satisfied by your surprise. “It’s not bad either, we’ve got apples, some crisps, and avocado sandwiches! They’re quite good really, they’ve got lettuce and tomato in, and this spicy mustard.”

Steven set your lunch before you with a level of excitement equal to a conductor beginning a symphony. All you could do was stare, and make some strange smile with your mouth partly open, as you looked between him and the slightly crumpled, but still appetizing sandwich before you.

“I wanted to try and make this vegan caramel for the apples but I rather bungled that…” he continued, reminiscing on his caramel attempt with a cringe.

“I’m-“ you started to say, but you didn’t actually know what you were. Aside from the obvious attributes: deeply flattered, touched, and surprised. There was a tightness in your throat that you’d only usually felt when you were about to cry, but there were no tears forming in your eyes. You stared at the sandwich as if it held monumental power.

With a crunch, Steven bit into his apple. He nudged your arm with his elbow as he took another bite. You jumped a little and picked up your own.

“Cheers!” Steven said, tapping his apple against yours. Chucking, you took a bite.

You couldn’t have known how strange it was for Steven to be eating a lunch he made with a friend. He was nearly as surprised as you, that he was able to sit down with you today and provide this meal. Steven had never been very good about remembering to make himself up a lunch to take to work, but the idea of also making one for you, however modest it may be, was so exciting that it stuck in his mind. Instead of only remembering he should have packed food by the time he was clocking out for lunch, he had stopped at the market on the way home last night, imagining how this very moment would play out. As was usual, he had been hesitant to fall asleep, but the thought of having time in the morning to carefully assemble sandwiches gripped him with excitement and so he’d done his best, making sure his ankle restraint was tightly fastened to his leg no later than midnight, and stared up at his dark ceiling, silently begging it to let him sleep peacefully.

When Steven woke up it was nearly dawn. He was so bewildered by the unique light of early morning that for a moment he thought he’d only slept for a few minutes. His ankle was still securely fastened to its brace, and even more profoundly, he felt rested. Steven felt like he had won, but there was also a bitter sweetness to realizing his night had gone exactly as intended- that it was unlikely to happen again, or consistently.

He tried to brush off that anxiety though, as he watched you take the first bite of the sandwich he made. Whether you were just being angelically polite or genuinely enjoying it, he appreciated your attention nevertheless. What was better? To try and have some plans, some gifts, some special moments never materialize- or to never meet the opportunity to surprise you and make you smile?

That was an easy answer.

“You failed to mention earlier,” Steven started, chewing through a large bite of bread, “what your favorite ancient Greek love story is?”

“Oh right! Well that’s so difficult!” you groaned, grinning. “The reason may be nuanced, but I love Selene and Endymion’s story.”

“What is it?”

“Selene is the Moon goddess in the ancient Greek pantheon, and Endymion was a mortal shepherd Prince that would take his flock over hills and mountains at night. They fell in love, but because she was immortal and Endymion was not, Zeus extended his life by casting an eternal sleep upon Endymion.”

“Alright?” Steven responded, gesturing for you to keep explaining.

“That’s pretty much the whole story.” you laughed.

“Why is that your favorite then?” Steven asked, more spellbound than anything.

“Because! Okay this might sound a little cheesy but-”

“Sorry, I can’t do cheese. I’m vegan, remember?” Steven said with mock severity.

“Wow.” you replied flatly. You leaned back a little to watch Steven have a very hard time not laughing at his own joke. “Proud of yourself?”

“Go on, keep telling me why-” he choked out, bringing his hands to cover his mouth.

“No, no…” you replied, you resisted the twitch of a smile on your own face. “I don’t think I can after being eviscerated by your lactose free wit.”

“Please-” Steven wheezed faintly, nodding encouragingly, “Please, tell me.”

“Well-” you sighed haggardly, “What I was going to say is that I like it, because to me it feels metaphorical? No one should really ‘see’ the moon because it is at its best when we should be asleep, and yet we have and we do- and we have done for hundreds of years? Cultures with no connection all over the world have fallen in love with the Moon, which appears in its highest glory when our eyes should be closed? And I just think of that when thinking of Endymion. I think of how the night sky infatuates us, how humankind has always been so rhapsodic about it, even though as creatures we are useless in the dark and the night does little for anyone in a practical sense.

“Endymion is in this eternal sleep, induced by his love for the Moon… again, metaphorically, he’s fed by his affection for something so lovely? It just so simply encapsulates this understanding that people had way back then that even in a time of hardship, beauty was longed for and nourished humankind?”

Steven had stopped eating. He was simply staring at you, eyebrows raised.

“I know it sounds like I’ve thought about it too much- it’s because I do.” you qualified, embarrassed.

“No-” Steven replied, voice soft, brow furrowed. “You’re alright… that was, that’s good.”

You were not convinced that Steven was genuine in his reassurance. You cast your eyes downward, mind racing. This was an overstep on your part- you got a little too romantic, waxed a little too poetic about your favorite topic. You wanted to try to ground your thoughts. “Um… there’s an… there’s a quote from this book.” you offered weakly, pulling your phone out of your pocket for reference.

You read aloud, “There is a fundamental reason why we look at the sky with wonder and longing—for the same reason that we stand, hour after hour, gazing at the distant swell of the open ocean. There is something like an ancient wisdom, encoded and tucked away in our DNA, that knows its point of origin as surely as a salmon knows its creek. Intellectually, we may not want to return there, but the genes know, and long for their origins—their home in the salty depths. But if the seas are our immediate source, the penultimate source is certainly the heavens… The spectacular truth is—and this is something that your DNA has known all along—the very atoms of your body—the iron, calcium, phosphorus, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, and on and on—were initially forged in long-dead stars. This is why, when you stand outside under a moonless, country sky, you feel some ineffable tugging at your innards. We are star stuff.“ The quiet you were greeted with felt unbearable. Quickly tucking your phone back in your pocket, you smiled, and sighed. “I mean those are the words of an astronomer, but the ancient Greeks were saying the same thing- We can’t help ourselves. We’re all in love with the moon.”

Mania. Steven thought.

“I…” Steven started, before stopping himself with a shake of his head. He still hadn’t touched any food. Sighing your name, Steven glanced into your eyes, head still shaking. “You… um, you think- You think very beautifully.”

“Hah-” you breathed, it was a sound of deepest regret. Why? Why had you been so open. You could have probably cooked an egg on your cheek, it felt so warm. You were desperate for some way out of being the talkative one. “You know, I don’t actually know if there was a Moon god in the Egyptian pantheon?”

“Oh-” Steven’s tone changed to something significantly less enchanted. “Yea. His name is Khonshu, god of the Moon, protector of those who travel at night.”

“...not a fan?” you asked, unable to help smiling at how personally offended Steven seemed by invoking Khonshu.

“Not really.” he replied, shrugging.

“Aha!” you grinned, taking a triumphant bite of your apple. “And there it is.”

“What?” Steven asked.

“The beginning of the end, Steven.” you hummed, “Greek god versus Egyptian God, Selene beats Khonshu.”

“HAH!” Steven laughed so loudly the rest of your coworkers in the break room glanced over. Why did this always happen to you two? Steven grasped at his chest, his eyes closed by the strength of his giggles. “Alright dove, that one you can have.”

TAG LIST:

@oliviagreenaway @then-he-was-wrong-about-me @b0xerdancer

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #steven grant / reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moon knight x you #mcu moon knight #moon knight fan fiction #moon knight imagines #non binary reader #non binary fan fic #steven grant vs. you #fictive-fodder #fictive fodder

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sugarrspice · 1 year

Text

He's been coming to this clearing for as long as he can remember. it'd been an accident, at first, a hazy decision borne of too long spent hunched over before the latest video he'd been editing for class, past the point of the night where his thoughts started to tip, dark and tarry. He'd been willing to do just about anything to forget about them, at that point.

He veers off of the well-worn path. His quarry lies not in the cycling paths, but deeper into the woods that lie off of campus, where the sunlight only reaches if its denizens will it so.

Nighttime does not aid his journey, besides providing him the cover to escape notice. Being caught once, or twice, here is explainable, but people do start asking questions, eventually.

But Chase has been down this path so many times that he could walk it, blind and deaf, and the roots underfoot do not seek to entrap him.

The undergrowth tugging at his jeans begins to pull away, and Chase slows, knowing that just about now, there will be a clearing opening up around him; the faint light of the waning moon confirms his suspicions.

It's empty.

Chase swallows down his rabbiting heart, tucks his hands into his empty pockets, and waits. There's no rushing him; he'll either come at his own time, or Chase will have spent another night, waiting for a myth that never shows.

He doesn't even have a name to call it by. Not that he would- names are tricky things, and he's just as likely to get his own stolen- but not once has he wondered what kind of name would define something with so heavy a presence that even the moon averts her eyes. He's curious about how heavily it'd weigh on his tongue.

Something regal- no, not regal. Opulence is not its name. sharp, perhaps. A knife to peel away the clarity of the day, and expose that shimmering underbelly that only stories ever seem to capture.

The hair on the back of his neck rises, and Chase freezes, before he turns, locking eyes with the figure swinging his feet from the branch above him.

"It's you," he breathes, and the fae throws his head back to laugh. Whoever said fae laughed like bells was a filthy fucking liar; Chase's skin prickles with goosebumps at the wild, crackling sound.

"Shit, you should see your face. Like a fucking rabbit caught out in the open."

Chase blinks. Double takes. That's probably not the appropriate response to being called a prey animal by a fae, but- his cheeks flush, hot, at the mockery.

"I wasn't even sure you were real up until two minutes ago," he informs the fae, and he cackles again.

"And yet you still came here, day after day, waiting for a ghost."

He blinks out of sight; Chase frowns, trying not to feel too disappointed, and then nearly jumps out of his skin as a hand rests on his shoulder.

Or, well, nearly trips over his own feet. A cold arm wraps around his shoulders and holds him steady; the fae stands barely inches before him, smirk widening.

"Easy, jackrabbit." He's leaning closer, now, and even in the darkness, Chase can count each pointed tooth. there's... distinctly too many. Or the perfect number? What was that saying about counting your companion's teeth, lest they be a fae?

That ship's sailed, obviously, and- oh, he's rambling. That's great, and it has nothing, he's sure, to do with the fact he's still in an unresolved bisexuality crisis with a very, very pretty fae in front of him. Like, unfairly pretty; now that he has a good look, and his eyes are adjusting to the dark, he can trace the fae's sharp jawline, and those dancing eyes that he can't quite make the color out of, and- oh, hell, he's going to be dragged off to fucking Tír na nÓg if he keeps this up.

Marvin is going to be so, so disappointed. Or gleeful, maybe. It's hard to tell with him.

He sucks in a breath- a little overly loud, but this is fine, and tries his damndest to tune back in to whatever the fae is saying.

Which, as it turns out, is nothing. He's just watching him, with that same weighty gaze that he can't parse for the fucking life of him.

The fae's grin sharpens. "Are you with me now, jackrabbit?"

"I'm right here, aren't I? Haven't left?" His mouth moves without any real input from his head, and then he claps a mortified hand over his mouth. "I mean- shit, no, hold up-"

The fae snickers, and leans back, withdrawing his arm. Chase tries not to feel too bereft about the loss of contact, and immediately quashes that line of thought.

"Fuck, you're a funny one. Stupid, for coming here, but funny."

Chase tries for a weak smile. "I'm told that's my best selling point."

That... might not have been the smartest thing to say. The fae's eyes sharpen, and he cocks his head. Not unlike a bird, Chase thinks. A bird of prey, watching a silly little rabbit, who'd walked right below its tree.

Too late, now.

"Is it, now," the fae murmurs. It's not a question. "And what, exactly, are you trying to sell it for?"

"Company," Chase's mouth says, and then he really does clamp a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, because- here's the thing. Ye's lonely. Painfully so. Marvin's... nice, but a distant roommate. Jack is- Jack is gone. He hasn't seen Henrik in years. But lonely enough for a fae deal?

The fae doesn't do much besides watch him, that sharp smirk still cutting through his expression. He folds his arms, and Chase tries not to track them.

"And that's why you've been coming here for the past month, without fail. To make a deal for company."

Chase grimaces at the sound of that, before he processes the rest of the sentence.

"Wh- you were watching?"

"It's my forest, jackrabbit," the fae drawls. "I know who steps foot in... and who won't come out."

His eyes linger on Chase for a moment, and Chase swallows a lump in his throat, feeling distinctly caught, and hopes to whatever god might be listening that the heat to his cheeks doesn't mean they're actually flushed.

Here is about the point he should've left.

Instead, he rocks back on his heels, fiddling with a spare bit of lint in his pockets. "So you've been watching me. For a month. And decided to say hi, now?"

"Maybe I'm curious, too, jackrabbit." He's smiling with all of his teeth again. "Not many step foot into a fae's forest without even a pinch of iron on them."

Chase does not let his breath catch. Does not focus on that smile.

"Seems, uh, rude, dude. To walk into someone's house- armed, you know?"

The fae watches him, and there's something strange about his eyes. Before Chase can parse it, it's gone, and he's smiling, again.

"Rude," he echoes. "That's a strange way to say stupid."

"I feel like you've been doing a distinct amount of that. Calling me stupid, that is," Chase informs the fae, and- he really needs a name for him. This is getting awkward.

"Well, you haven't exactly been impressing me," he says, lazily, and then tilts his head again. "What will you give for company, jackrabbit? A deal's a deal, but you have to even the scales."

Chase hesitates. Because- does he? Does he want it that bad?

(He knows what the answer is even before he's finished asking the question.)

"What do you want for it?" That's a safe question, right? Feel out the terrain.

The fae watches him, and almost idly, Chase is noticing how green his eyes are. Bright as the canopies around them, but deeper. Sharper, somehow. The nighttime doesn't do anything to darken them, almost like they're from lit up from within.

Oh, he's fucked.

"Company for company," the fae says finally, and his smile is- strange. Tighter. "Give and take. I'll accompany you for a year and a day, and you will accompany me for a year and a day."

Oh, that had to be bad news. Accompany where? Every bone in his body is telling him this is a bad, bad idea; that he's one foot over the precipice.

(But also: that empty apartment. But also: that hospital bed. But also: those cold nights. But: bright, green eyes that leave something warm and wanting in his chest.)

He sticks out his hand. The fae stares down at his hand, and then back up at him. He flushes.

"It's how you seal a deal, right? A handshake?"

"You," the fae says, wonderingly, "are even more of an idiot than I thought. No, jackrabbit, we don't do handshakes. What's your name?"

Oh. Oh, this is a bad, bad idea.

Chase shifts, awkwardly, and finally, he says, "you can call me Chase."

Somehow, he feels like he's chosen both the right and the wrong path. The fae rolls his name over his tongue, and smirks. "Call me anti."

Anti. Sharp as he'd expected. Everything that he's not. Chase nods, once, short, and wills himself to not make more of a fool of himself.

"Is- right, no handshakes. That's- is that how you seal deals?"

Anti grins, bright and hungry, and leans forward.

"I can think of a few ways to seal a deal," he purrs softly, and then presses his lips to Chase's.

Oh. Right. Yeah. That's- Chase, very quickly, decides thinking is overrated, and braces his hands against the fae for balance. He's out of practice, sure, but he's not a rookie; he tilts his head to give Anti a better angle, because Anti is pretty clearly driving this boat, and he's along for the ride.

Not a bad ride! Anti's talented; Chase is going to blame that on him being a fae, and he scrapes sharp teeth across Chase's bottom lip in just the right way to get Chase to shiver. He's just. Startled.

Anti pulls back, right as Chase is beginning to wonder when he's going to need a breath, and they lock eyes for a moment, Anti idly licking his lips, Chase tracing the movement with his eyes.

The fae cocks his head with a smirk. "There. Sealed."

"Right," Chase says, and winces at the way his voice cracks on the word, as his brain begins the task of catching up.

"Right," he says again, stronger, and blinks. "That's. That? Now what?"

Anti raises an eyebrow. Does he ever stop smirking? Chase's honestly curious, now. "Now I come with you, for a year and a day."

"Right," Chase says, for a third time, and then grimaces and shakes his head. He's usually- well, not funnier, but not dumbstruck. Instead of trying to put it into words, he offers a hand; Anti eyes it, before he- shakes off his form. There's no better way to put it, with Anti standing before him one moment, and a crow perched on his shoulder the next.

He stares at it a moment longer, before deciding that's firmly in the "tackle later" category, and turns on his heel.

A year and a day.

Better make it count, at least.

#antiaverage #anti x chase #egoshipping #This is technically before either of them fully fall for the other!#But perhaps I'll touch on that in future follow-ups #This is an au that I hope to continue to play around in #I'm not entirely sure about if I should tag the individual egos; I'll keep it to their combined tag for now.#But I can edit as needed.#fae au #spice writes

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