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unforgivablego · 10 months

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I still see people talking about the Season 2 being bad. Sometimes they explain their opinion, and sometimes they get hung up on what happened in the final.

I want to speak out a little about it. “Some dumb theories” time. You can’t stop me, anyway.

Yes, the characters can't come to an agreement again. Yes, Aziraphale still believes that Heaven can be fixed. Yes, Crowley is still in love with him and wants to run away from problems instead of solving them. Yes, they are still the same as they were in the Season 1. Yes, they have learned nothing in 6,000 years. But is it really that bad?

Let's start with the fact that we were warned in advance that there will be no important storylines this season. "Quiet, gentle, romantic" - the style of the Neil for this season. And I don't think it goes against the grain of the first season. Season 1 was about the Apocalypse. Season 1 was about how the characters come to the conclusion that they like the Earth the way it is. Season 1 was about the love of the Earth. It was a journey of 6,000 years. Do you think it taught them anything besides the fact that the Earth is really dear to them?

Please don't forget the fact that Aziraphale is an angel. He may doubt that Heaven is so good, but he will never doubt that God wants the best for everyone. Aziraphale is loyal to God, not to Heaven. When Crowley asks which side he is on, Aziraphale doesn’t answer that he is on the side of Heaven, he replies that he is on the side of God. The decision that Aziraphale makes at the end of the second season is "I never doubted God, I believe that I can change Heaven if my faith is stronger than Heaven itself."

Entire Season 1 was about Aziraphale's belief in a simple thing - God never wishes them all harm, so Aziraphale trusts Him. It was Aziraphale's faith that saved them all from the Apocalypse in the first season. Heaven, Hell, Crowley, Gabriel, Michael, Sandalphon, Uriel, Metatron - the voice of God, they all told him that God wanted this war to happen. But Aziraphale refuses to believe it, he is ready to doubt them all, but not God. God loves his creations. They are His children, they are dearest to Him, and if the Great Plan dictates that all this must be destroyed, then the Great Plan is wrong. Tens of thousands of angels and demons are ready to believe that their Creator created them only to destroy them, but not Aziraphale, no. No matter what, he will never begin to doubt that God loves them more than anything in the world and this war is certainly not what He really wants.

And do you think Aziraphale will lose his faith after the Season 1? No, he will never stop believing. His faith is so great that he is ready to turn a blind eye to all the atrocities that Heaven has arranged for the Earth and which God hasn’t prevented. Aziraphale is the most real Angel of all. This is his essence, this is his curse.

For me, Aziraphale's refusal to run away with Crowley at the end of the second season doesn't go against the idea of his character. What goes against the grain is Crowley's repeated desire to run away. In Season 1, we saw how strongly he was against the Apocalypse. Who persuaded Aziraphale to save the Earth? Not Heaven, not Hell, not God. Crowley! He loves the Earth, he loves Aziraphale, he wants these two things to continue to exist together. He likes life on Earth, life with Aziraphale. He doesn't want to destroy it all. But what do we see in the fourth episode of Season 1? Knowing that there is no way out of the situation, Crowley is ready to leave the Earth - the Earth he loves as much as Aziraphale - and run away from the problem. Only after finding out that Aziraphale is getting involved in the development of the Apocalypse, he rushes to him. Only because his angel is there. Where did his love for people go? Why is he suddenly ready to fly off to Alpha-Centauri and leave everything burning in hellfire?

He has no faith. This is their difference with Aziraphale. The angel believes that there is always a way out, that if the Great Plan is talking nonsense, then this is not God's plan. And he is ready to fight for the Earth, even if for this he has to go against his own. He openly defied Heaven, he openly sent his side and returned to save the Earth and Crowley.

Second. Why, if the Season 1 was filled with action, rush, wars, an abundance of characters and puzzle solutions, then the Season 2 should be the same? Season 2 is not about the Apocalypse. Season 2 is about what happened after it. The characters behave unnaturally precisely because we have only seen their behavior on the brink of War before. In Season 1, their characters were not fully revealed to us, there was almost no emphasis on inner experiences, since the End of the World is right here, there is absolutely no time for this. Season 1 was filled with many storylines and we just didn't get a break between them to consider the nature of the relationship of the main characters.

Neil said that he intentionally inserted a journey through the years into the ep3. Precisely because we wouldn’t understand why the quarrel in the bandstand at the end is so important. Season 1 doesn't let us learn much about the characters. We almost don't see Aziraphale being bastard and Crowley being kind. We don’t see why they are so attached to each other. Season 1 had a clear plot and this plot had to be kept. Season 1 had a rigid framework that the plot couldn’t go beyond. And the abundance of secondary characters didn’t allow to keep track of everything at once.

What happens in the second season? We finally see how the relationship of the main characters looks like. We see their interaction. We can look into the subcortex and read how they feel. Now Crowley's inability to contain his anger is brought to the fore. We see how he runs away from solving difficult problems, we see how he avoids everything that can be simply discarded and forgotten. And by watching how Crowley handles different situations, we can finally understand why Crowley left Aziraphale in the bandstand. We now see him in the full picture, and we can imagine why he was ready to leave the Earth he loved so much and run away with Aziraphale. This is his way of solving problems. He simply avoids them, shifts others well, or decides in the simplest way - gets rid of them, like plants with spots, or how he wanted to get rid of Gabriel in the Season 2.

Aziraphale solves problems. He is ready to sacrifice his time and energy to figure something out and face it face to face, instead of letting everything take its course. He doesn't get rid of defective books, he gives them as much love as he does for everyone. No matter how difficult the task, he is ready to fight. Even if it Hell, Heaven or an amnesiac Archangel. Even if he had to face Satan in combat, he would raise his sword ready to fight for Earth and Crowley. He can pull himself together. He is kind, sometimes naive, but he has faith. He doesn’t believe that someone can be fundamentally bad, he thinks that the right approach can change everything.

Crowley is a perfectionist. He fell because he asked uncomfortable questions - he wasn’t like everyone else. Therefore, plants with spots are an analogy to his life. He believes that they need to be disposed of, as Heaven once got rid of him.

Aziraphale is the opposite. He keeps misspelled Bibles in the shop. He is proud of his collection, he sees nothing wrong with being different from everyone else. This is an analogy to his worldview.

Crowley only has Aziraphale. He was expelled from Heaven, expelled from Hell, he lost his faith and this is justified. I can understand his point of view. I understand why at the end of Season 2 he asks Aziraphale to run away again.

Aziraphale has Crowley. And faith. Knowing what happens in Heaven, when he is offered to change something, he is ready to go for it. But with Crowley. Remember, he refuses the offer until Metatron pressures Aziraphale to bring Crowley back to Heaven with him. Aziraphale wouldn’t leave without Crowley, which would mean that Crowley wouldn’t be safe. But an offer to go back to Heaven with Crowley, where they would be there all the time and he wouldn't have to worry about Crowley being in constant danger? Think about it.

They both ask each other to leave, but cannot understand why each chose their own path. They don't listen to each other. This is their problem. They love the Earth, they love each other, but they don't listen to what they is trying to tell each other.

And both - BOTH - act in the way that is very characteristic of them. Crowley runs away from the problem, and Aziraphale goes to great lengths to solve the problem.

Why is Aziraphale going back to Heaven? We all pay attention to the fact that he doesn't return Crowley's kiss = he rejects Crowley. Nobody rejects anyone! This act of Crowley was quite cruel. It’s like he’s saying, "This is what we could have if you would give up your God." Do you remember that Aziraphale is an angel? For him to refuse God is the same as to fall. If he renounces God, he will no longer be an angel. I don't understand how people still can't understand something as simple as Aziraphale's true faith.

Crowley left him, so he leaves alone. No, let me explain it differently. Crowley really abandoned him and for lack of an alternative, Aziraphael humbled himself and went, where he was pulled harder. In this case, Metetron was just nearby. If Crowley had been in his place - if Crowley had stayed and not left again - Aziraphale would have stayed with him.

Aziraphale loves Crowley and this season we're being revealed more about that because there's time for that. We are not in a hurry. Against the backdrop of the mystery of Gabriel's memory loss, even the threat of Hell and Heaven is no match for the Apocalypse in the Season 1. This season is not about that. He fully justified his main syllable "quiet, gentle and romantic." Despite the dramatic ending and broken hearts, we have atmospheric quiet everyday life, gentle characters with funny stories, and romance that wasn't given much time in Season 1. “Every day it’s getting closer” describes this season perfectly. We have a breather between global events and the opportunity to enjoy our favorite characters that we haven’t seen for a long time. All this against the backdrop of a showdown between Hell and Heaven and funny scenes in which characters are thrown in order to tell as much as possible about them.

The denouement with Gabriel and Beelzebub may have turned out to be strange. But don’t forget that this season is not about them. If Neil wanted to go into more detail about their relationship, he would’ve spent the entire season on it. But we came to see our husbands, didn't we?

Maggie and Nina's love line doesn't seem out of place to me. They played a good role in developing the relationship of our main idiots and lived up to the phrase "romantic" well. Yes, they also didn’t have a good ending, all our expectations that they would become a couple in the end didn’t come true, but this is a human life, as simple as in Season 1 (the love line of Anathema and Newton was simply illogical and very striking , like sand in mouth) it will not be shown again.

We were shown more of Shax's story to get an idea of what would happen to Hell if this character was in charge.

Despite the certainty, we still don't know who Crowley was before the Fall. Here's another mystery for you. We also don’t know what Metatron is up to, although everything is also crystal clear with the Second Coming. Maybe.

For me, the ending was heartbreaking, but quite logical. The characters acted as they normally do, without losing their principles and beliefs. Aziraphale is not the villain in this story. Crowley is not an abandoned puppy suffering from unrequited love. They just have another quarrel, which of course they will resolve and survive, because they simply cannot live without each other. This is not the end of their relationship, this is an occasion to start again. Believe me, all they really ever needed was to talk. Crowley's decision to talk now was just the wrong moment. This doesn’t mean that Aziraphale abandoned him. This means that both of them are simply not ready until they deal with their main problems.

Think how many times before this, Crowley left Aziraphale, and then dramatically drove off into the sunset? How many times did Aziraphale stand and look after him brokenly in the hope of replaying everything? How many more times is Crowley ready to return and Aziraphale to accept him? Believe me, this is not the first time for them, they will cope. We still have a whole Season 3 ahead of us. And they certainly won't end up all apart.

Season 2 is all about Crowley and Aziraphale. Season 2 is about their experiences, petty fights, arguments, romance and the life they both love. Angry that we didn't get a concrete plot in Season 2 just because Season 1 was like that? Well, excuse me, we have here an ordinary sitcom with ordinary, standard human problems. With ups and downs, with partings etc.

Graphics not up to par with Marvel? Well what do you want? This is not a super universe for you with a global audience. I don't think this season is bad. I consider him as much as he can.

So it goes.

Also, I think you need to read this👇🏻

Geniuses among us

#good omens #don’t be so demanding #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #hear me out #neil is not our villain #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens season two #good omens series #good omens season 2 #good omens show #good omens spoilers maybe #good omens tv #good omens fandom #neil gaiman #crowley and aziraphale #michael sheen #david tennant #neil gaiman meme

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seijorhi · 2 months

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hey rhi 👋

I’ve been watching a lot of zombie shows lately (ex: the walking dead, last of us, all of us are dead, world war z, zombieland etc. etc)

And while watching all those shows, they always managed to remind me about your zombie fic ‘finders keepers’ which would then lead me to wonder and boil with questions. So if you don’t mind and if it doesn’t trouble you too much, I would like to ask a couple of things ….

1. How did the apocalypse start?

2. When it did start, were they at school and just so happen to group up? Or did they join forces in a different manner?

3. While oikawa and the reader were taking shelter, where were the others?

4. When the reader went out to search for supplies for oikawa, we know the twins were following her, but what were they doing out in the first place?

5. (I might be a lil slow for this, but) Which of the twins killed the zombie, Atsumu or Osamu?

6. Why does inarizaki take in ‘strays’ and what do they do to them? And what do they do once the strays in question want to leave their group?

7. For how long did the twins have eyes for the reader?

8. How far along are they into the apocalypse?

9. How come no one seems concerned with reuniting with family or loved ones?

10. What’s the initial reaction from the inarizaki group when they see that the twins brought the reader to their base?

Well I think that’s all my questions… hopefully. But I know for damn sure that if an apocalypse were to actually happen that I’d be like the reader utterly useless and helpless (but unlike her I won’t have any strong and beautiful men to help or protect me 😔)

I would also probably opt out 😭 (people in zombie shows always have so much will to live and for what?!?!?).

Anyways, I always enjoy seeing your blog and reading yours answers to questions asked by us. I love how I’ll be doing anything in my day, and something (no matter how small it is) will remind me of one of your many glorious fics.

I hope you have a wonderful week and thank you for reading. (Stay hydrated and blessed babe 😏.)

(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

- 🌬️🌫️

okay bear with me

i like to go with pharmaceutical fuck up/virus/pandemic thing à la 28 days later or the walking dead

nah, they were friends before it hit, but even pre-apocalypse it wasn't intended to be a volleyball specific thing

well technically it depends. prior to oikawa being bitten they were on a supply run. in the aftermath, they would've gone back to the school, found it overrun and depending on your own personal choice, either found themselves at the wrong end of a zombie's teeth, or they're trying to track oikawa and the reader down after escaping themselves

following :))

whichever one you think. truly i wrote it and left it ambiguous because 1) the reader couldn't see shit and couldn't determine it herself and 2) it could honestly have been either of them and i found it funnier that way. go with whatever your heart tells you

i like to think that inarizaki actually have more of a 'community'. small, but not just a bunch of guys. considering that there's food, medicine, a fuck-ton of guns and men willing to use them, they're usually pretty happy to stay. loyal enough to look the other way when it becomes clear the reader isn't going to be able to just waltz out the front gate like she thinks

inarizaki (or the core members) were aware that a few people were holing up in the school, weren't too concerned about it. more of a 'keep an eye on it and see if it becomes a problem' kind of sitch. they didn't know that group included a woman, not with how anal the others were about keeping the reader safe and tucked away from prying eyes. it was pure luck that the twins caught sight of her during a patrol, a little while before iwa and the other two left and zombies found their way inside. funny that.

somewhere between 6-12 months. long enough for the world to go to shit and for people to become adjusted to that. sort of

mostly because they either saw their family and loved ones die or they believe the chances they're still alive are slim enough not to pin hopes and dreams on. also in the reader's case because even if she had plans of meeting up/looking for someone, they'd put that shit to bed real quick

honestly i think kita would want to disapprove, but how can he? yes the twins were reckless and yes they should have discussed this together beforehand so they could have planned this, but he can't and won't argue with the end result. the reader wasn't safe where she was, now she is. she'll have access to things she was woefully lacking previously, the twins are satisfied, it's the best solution all round. thanks in no small part to how seijoh 4 treated her, there's no chance she'd survive out there on her own. such a sweet, vulnerable, helpless little thing, how could the rest of them not just want to eat her right up? they are ofc unsurprised by the twins pulling some bullshit, but hey, no one (they care about) died right? win-win.

#i'm sorry i sat on this ask for ages #i just needed to psych myself up for it #and also to go re-read the fic #and then type coherent words #rhi answers #fic asks #finders keepers #🌬️🌫️ anon

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sitp-recs · 10 months

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Happy Friday, friends! I’ve never done monthly wrap ups before but since Wireless pulled me back from a brief hiatus, I thought it would be cool to share some things I’ve been reading, that could use more love. 10 fics both old and new, Drarry and rare pairs, Wireless treats; pick your poison and have fun! 🙌

Drarry

Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 7k) - brilliant concept perfectly executed, I’m so here for curse-breaking colleagues who fuck at the job to pass time and then forget about it every time 🤌🏼 genius and intriguing and captivating as per crow’s usual

There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.

And Embers at Your Lips by @nametheshadows (T, 15k) - sequel to one of my all-time favorite 8th year fics with insomniac roommates just as soft and healing as LLAYF. Gorgeous prose and all the kissing. Highly rec this series for A+ comfort food!

The sequel to Like Lightning at Your Fingertips: the kissing montage. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

Rich Friend, Anon (E, 18k) - one of my faves from Wireless, pop star!Draco never gets old and both the pacing and the romance are perfectly developed! I live for Harry’s horny yearning and for their road trip together, kudos to casual Harry/Neville as a side ship!

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Waking Up Slow, Anon (E, 22k) - this ode to advent Drarry fics took my breath away with a charming Draco, fun dynamics, an enchanting Christmas shop and one of the sexiest smut scenes I’ve read this year, 10/10 recommend for hot & sweet magical vibes and lots of references as an homage to the classics!

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

We Are Legend by Vaysh (E, 38k) - happy to report to @romaine2424 that I have finally read this epic apocalypse AU and am shooketh with its originality and serious tone. One of the most creative takes I’ve seen on animagus Draco, a poignant and devastating war story.

Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side. He recognises Draco Malfoy whom he thought long dead. But the differences between them are perhaps even greater than before. Cw: MCD

LA, Who Am I To Love You?, Anon (E, 42k) - I cannot believe this beauty was written for my lil Wireless prompt ♥️ perfect LA vibes, gorgeous aesthetics, horny ust and a fascinating take on both down and out bi Harry and out and proud bi Draco, we love to see it! Couldn’t have asked for a better story to fill my prompt, ty anon!

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

Rare Pairs

A Different Tune by November Snowflake (M, 8k) - very nice Dron get together, short & sweet with an undercurrent melancholy that I love, just what I needed before bed

Working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office has led Ron to many strange encounters--but none more unexpected than this one. Cw: Harry’s dead

The Years Between by brummell (M, 14k) - another rare pair fave, this Rarry fic told from Ron’s smitten and jealous pov as he helps Harry recover from a coma is so deliciously raw and angsty. Gorgeous slow burn, the feels!

For both Harry and Ron, a wake-up call is just the beginning.

Things Remembered by avioleta (E, 17k) - best Snarry fic I’ve read this year, I’m low key obsessed with this hitmen + amnesia concept and how the romance develops so organically while they’re on the run. Intriguing plot, sexy ust and super scorching smut that made me salivate jfc 🔥

Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar hotel room, and with absolutely no idea who he is. The man he’s in bed with has no memories either. But they think, maybe, they’re assassins, because they seem to be very good at killing people.

A Dress with Pockets by PacificRimbaud (E, 25k) - a Panville classic recced by anon (ty!!), what a sexy and vibrant read! I LOVED Neville and their dynamics are brilliant and so funny, I just couldn’t get enough of these characters. 100% sold on this ship pls and thank

Pansy Parkinson needed a drink. And a shag. She didn't care in which order. Enter: Neville fucking Longbottom and his rolled up sleeves.

#July wrap up #hp recs

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stayxlix · 1 year

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off the deep end. (01)

~(part 1) the sun and his moon~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 8.2k

series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, mentions of murder/execution, death, oppressive government, fighting, gunfire, angst, suggestive content, brief mention of parent death, parental neglect, language, mentions of hunger/starvation, please lmk if i missed any!

a/n: this is my first time posting any of my work, so any thoughts/feedback are very much appreciated and welcome!! i’ve had the idea for this in my head ever since the maxident trailer came out so everyones vibe in this is based on that (with some inspiration for the whole setting/theme from the scars and miroh mvs because i love them both so much). i really want my work to be a kind of escape, and i have big plans for this one :) i hope you enjoy ♡

~series masterlist~

“there's an old story of the sun and the moon. the sun, who loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe. the moon, that sacrificed herself every night so that the sun could rise. maybe we were too much like the sun and the moon. deeply in love but too different to exist side by side.”

It had been a long time since he felt the sun against his skin like this. It was comforting, like an old friend, as the warmth fell against him through a break in the heavy fog above.

"Felix!" Chan came up behind him, breaking the silence. "I've been looking for you man. I think we've got something this time. Something big, but it'll take all of us and it wont be easy."

Felix stayed facing the sun. He closed his eyes and lifted his head toward it, resting his hands on the rough surface of the rooftop beneath him. Tuning out the older boy, just another moment was all he needed. Just a few more breaths, a few more beats of his heart. The wind pushed the hair out of his eyes. His freckles becoming darker with every second. Sometimes, on days underneath the sun like this, he wished he would melt away in it. On darker days he wished for the fog to consume him. He wished and he wondered. Was there anything more to this life? Would there ever be?

Felix breathed in deeply once more, letting it out slowly. His eyes were still closed but he could feel Chan beside him now when he spoke.

"I'll do it."

The world you knew today was very different from the one that you read about in books. You read them over and over again until you memorized the pages. Books filled with stories of nuclear wars and the unforgiving nuclear winter that followed, destroying nearly everyone and everything that had existed before. You read handwritten journals that described buildings so tall they were blanketed by the clouds above. They told tales of clear skies and green forests with creatures like aliens, moving pictures on tiny boxes meant solely for entertainment, and something called the internet that held the answers to any question you could ever imagine. All of that was gone now, kept alive by the images created in your head when you read those books. Sometimes you wondered if any of it had ever existed at all.

After the wars, the remainder of the world was condensed and split into 9 districts. As far as anyone knew, the only thing left outside of the 9 districts was barren land that held nothing but stories, carried by ghosts of the past. The 9 districts had been run by your ancestors for generations, currently under rule of your father. They were shaped in large rings, with District 9 at the center, also known as the "Inner Circle". The Inner Circle was where your father's palace, army, and the most wealthy members of society were located. The other 8 districts surrounded the Inner circle and each other, stretching miles upon miles until District 1. At the edge of District 1 stood a wall rumored to be a thousand feet high. It encompassed all 9 districts and therefore everything that was left of the world. Nobody knew what was beyond the wall and nobody dared to find out.

Ever since you were old enough to understand what it meant, you had hated being the daughter of the most powerful man in the world. The horrible things you had seen your father do kept you awake at night. The people he had executed, suspected of conspiring rebellions against him, lived on in your mind. Some of them barely older than you, some younger. He was all you could remember, your mother having died before you were old enough to know her.

For your entire life your father had told you that he did the things he did because he had to. He was only protecting you and the people he was responsible for, so he said. Another way he "protected" you was by keeping you hidden from the world outside. You grew up without any idea of what lie beyond the walls of the palace in District 9. To everyone outside, your existence was nothing more than just a myth.

As you got older, your father started to teach you things like how to fight, lead, maintain order, and hold a position of power through fear. Most importantly, he taught you that love was weakness, which is probably why he never showed any toward you. In a world like yours there was no time or opportunity for friends and certainly not for love. It wasn't like you were completely inexperienced though..There had been nights spent under the protection of darkness in hidden corners of the palace that involved racing heartbeats and forbidden touches. They were nights shared with guards in training or kitchen hands that you barely knew and none of them ever stayed. You didn't let them, for fear of what your father might do to them if he found out. Love was weakness, so you vowed never to let it get that far.

You did everything that was asked of you because you had no reason not to trust your father. Because you had no reason to question the things he told you about how the world works. Because blood is supposed to be able to trust blood, right? And he was all you had ever known, so you followed him blindly. You let him mold and shape you into a carbon copy of himself, until you couldn't ignore it anymore. A sinking feeling deep within you that what you understood about the way the world works was very wrong.

Lately, something had changed within you. You started to crave the truth. You needed real answers to your questions about the surrounding districts and it became clear that you weren't going to find them inside the palace walls. It was then that you decided you would do whatever it took to get them for yourself.

You knew the walls of the palace like the back of your own hand, including the labyrinth of underground tunnels beneath it. You had played in the tunnels as a child and were later taught to use them in an emergency in case a rebellion against your father were to succeed, not that he would let that happen. He was a busy man and spent the majority of his time locked away in secrecy behind closed doors, in the company of his most trusted military generals or advisors. Although he kept a close eye on you, he couldn't be with you all hours of the day and neither could his guards. With all of the training you had received, you were quite good at hiding from them when you didn't want to be found. When you have to be hidden from the world, you get used to blending in with the shadows. You become good at it.

As a result, over the past few weeks you made it a habit of sneaking out at night through the tunnels, beyond the palace and the Inner Circle. Under the protection of darkness and your hidden identity. In doing so, you were finally able to uncover some answers, although you had a feeling you had just barely begun to scratch the surface of the truth.

From the moment you stepped foot onto the cracked streets of the surrounding districts, it became very clear that the things you had always thought to be normal were a luxury beyond District 9. Despite having been kept hidden for your entire life, you knew that you had been born lucky. You just hadn't realized how lucky.

Wherever you went, light from burning fires flickered through the darkness in between broken walls, keeping people who huddled inside them warm. The guilt reached through you to your bones when you met dirty faces and sunken, tired eyes in the shadows of the night.

You hadn't expected the deep rooted hatred that the people had for your father in the surrounding districts, but you quickly came to understand it. You learned that the majority of the resources produced by the other districts and the little that was farmed from the desolate land was collected and kept for District 9. It was distributed among it's incredibly selfish inhabitants, which also happened to include yourself, although you didn't know it until now. They were considered the most "important" members of society, while those beyond were left to survive off of the bare minimum.

The people blamed your father and the generations of your family before him. They blamed the fortunate society members of District 9, and if they tried to rebel they would be labeled as traitors and publicly executed under the order of your father. They had a right to be angry. You were angry for them. You had no idea that this is how things were and you probably wouldn't have believed it until you saw it for yourself. The colorful picture your father had painted of a loving people who looked to him to protect them, take care of them, and keep them safe turned black in your mind.

The farthest out you could make it on foot in one night was District 7. Much beyond that and you wouldn't be able to get back to the palace in time before daybreak. You were also hesitant to go any further because of the possibility of what, or who, lie waiting in the districts beyond. You heard enough from rumors in passing about dangerous clans and bands of thieves who roamed the more remote districts. They wouldn't hesitate to cut the throat of an innocent for a piece of bread, a pair of shoes, or just because they felt like it.

Of course, Districts 8 and 7 didn't compare to the Inner Circle by any means, but at least some skeleton of a society lingered there. Many of the buildings still stood, although their walls were weathered and broken down. Thick grass wove in between cracks like stitches holding them up. Some buildings housed small "shops" where families would trade or sell anything they could scavenge the material to make, just trying to earn enough coins for scraps of food or a blanket to keep warm. There were "schools" held in large dirt fields where children used sticks to draw in the mud. There was a tavern that you liked to visit in District 7 that was almost always empty, but the beer was…drinkable and the bartender was kind.

There was no running water so it had to be collected on foot. No electricity. No rent to pay because nobody owned homes, they just settled where they could. Trading coins between each other for whatever goods they could get their hands on. The roads were so weathered and broken that it didn’t really matter that there were no cars, aside from the occasional military vehicle that passed through the landscape carrying your fathers guards. Always patrolling, always watching. You had a few close encounters with them on your outings, although you had managed to remain unseen thanks to the shadows cast by the moon.

Many of the people from the outer districts spent their days in fields, growing whatever they could from the desolate land. They were paid sparingly by your fathers guards when they came in military vehicles to collect the produce. Many of them didn't work at all, trying to survive and live off of the land themselves. Some travelled on foot between the districts to scavenge for anything to keep their loved ones alive. But it came with a price, the further out you went the more dangerous and less civilized things became. The less life there was, no matter how many humans you ran into. At the edge of it all lie District 1, mostly made up of prisons that held those lucky enough to be left alive by your father. Although, you had a feeling that if you asked them they wouldn't consider themselves very lucky at all.

Tonight, you made your way out through the tunnels wearing clothes borrowed from your only friend Jisoo, a palace maid that you had grown up with. As soon as you stepped off of the palace grounds, your ears were met with only the sounds of your heavy breathing and your feet as they hit the earth. You were a good runner and welcomed the fresh air as it burned your lungs. You ran miles until you found yourself somewhere in District 7 once again. It was a little further out than you usually went, in an area where you probably shouldn't have been.

You stopped at a quiet candlelit tavern with a hanging sign that displayed scribbled writing promising "fresh" water and beer to those that could spare a few coins. The only other person in the small space aside from the bartender was an older man with a gray beard and tattered clothes, slumped over across from you at the other end of the bar.

You stayed a while before tossing the bartender a handful of extra coins to pay for the man’s drink, and a very generous tip. Before he could inquire further about how a young girl like you had come to possess so many coins, you got up and exited the building through the missing doorway. The moonlight welcomed you and the gentle breeze felt good against your skin, sticky from air that was always humid and thick. It was rare to feel a breeze at all so you dropped your hood, closing your eyes. You put your head up to let it settle against you. The light from the moon shined so bright through the clouds that you could almost feel it on your skin, reaching out to envelop you.

After a moment you continued on, leaving your hood down, it’s not like anyone would recognize you anyway. You turned the corner and found yourself at the entrance of a quiet alley where the gravel crunched beneath your feet. Thoughts ran back and forth through your mind as you desperately tried to come up with any way that you could use your position to help the people outside of the Inner Circle. It seemed impossible. You could try to reason with your father but as soon as you revealed what you knew and how you came to know it, he would probably lock you up forever. After all, there were very few people that knew of your existence and you doubted that anyone except for Jisoo would miss you…

“Shit..” you mumbled to yourself after realizing that you had gotten so lost in thought you hadn't been paying attention to the time as it passed. You were definitely going to have to sprint now to make it back to the palace in time before the sun began to rise and someone noticed your absence. After stretching your already tired legs, you turned to start the long journey back but before you could take another step, a dark figure came running around the corner into the alley at full speed.

When he saw you he stopped in his tracks, sliding on the gravel. Underneath a yellow hanging lantern and the light from the moon you could make out the surprise on his face. He obviously hadn’t expected to cross paths with some girl alone in the middle of the night on the way to wherever he was going so quickly. His entrance was so abrupt and brought so much tension to the air that you froze in place, staring back at him with your mouth open slightly.

The boy was wearing a hood, his face partially hidden in the dim glow of the lantern. Despite that, he seemed to be around your age and even in the shadows his features were undeniably attractive. He had dark hair with long strands that fell loosely into piercing brown eyes. You noticed a black bandana wrapped tightly around one of his arms, however you couldn't bother to take your eyes from his to get a better look at it.

You stood facing each other, both unsure of your next move, when a group of voices echoed from somewhere in the distance. The voices were followed by muffled footsteps drawing near. Shifting uncomfortably, the boy in front of you quickly untied the banana wrapped around his arm and put it into pocket of his black hoodie. The pounding footsteps and harsh voices behind him turned into shouts that grew louder with every second.

With swift movement he turned to look behind him and then back to you. As if something gave him an idea, he began to walk toward you. Your eyes widened further with every step he took, until there was less than an arm's length left between you. You didn't even have time to reach for the knife hidden in your waistband before he took his hood down and grabbed your shoulders. His touch was surprisingly gentle as you let him push you slowly into the wall behind you. Still breathing heavily from the chase and even closer now, his breath fell hot against your lips. Trapping you underneath his gaze, he kept his eyes on yours for a moment as if he was searching for something in them, before lowering his head. Without warning, he crashed his lips onto yours.

Your first instinct was to shove him off of you but the way that his soft lips moved against your own, the way they tasted, had something inside of you craving more.

You had been kissed before but never like this.

The men who had been chasing him finally made their way to the entrance of the alley where they stopped. His back was to them but you could see them well enough through half lidded eyes to spot your family crest on their uniforms. They were your fathers soldiers with large guns held in their arms. You wondered what they could possibly be doing out here in District 7 so late at night, chasing after the boy who currently had his lips pressed tightly to yours. Whatever it was, it didn't look like they were planning to let him live once they caught him.

Before they had time to recognize you, or the boy they had been chasing, you put your fingers in his hair and pulled him closer. He followed your lead and moved his hands to your waist, deepening the kiss and completely blocking their view. Cold rings on his fingers pressed into bare skin where your shirt had lifted up slightly. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you tightened your fingers in his hair. A deep sound from somewhere within his chest escaped his lips when you pulled on the roots.

The kiss had absolutely consumed you. It was captivating, magnetic. So much so that you had forgotten your surroundings entirely, until you heard movement at the front of the alley. The guards must have decided that you were just two drunk lovers who had stumbled out of the nearby tavern moments before, because after one of them shouted something that you couldn't quite comprehend over the pounding of your heart in your ears, they began to move again. Raising their weapons and storming off, leaving you alone with the boy in the alley.

The kiss lasted a little longer than it needed to before you pulled away, pushing him off of you, taking note of the way his toned muscles tensed underneath your hands. You just hoped it was dark enough that he couldn't see the way your cheeks flushed.

He seemed a bit surprised and you were sure it was because he probably hadn't expected you to kiss him back, especially not the way that you did. After turning to make sure that the soldiers had gone, he looked back to you. Your faces were still only a few inches apart despite you breaking the kiss, and his appeared as though it had been hand carved by some higher power above. It was the first time you had looked at his features well enough to appreciate the freckles that decorated the soft skin underneath his eyes. Eyes that held a sort of intensity that you couldn’t even begin to describe.

There was something in them that pierced all the way through you to your soul. A kind of familiarity almost, that you couldn’t quite discern, but god did the way he was looking at you right now make you certain you would have done anything for him in that moment. No matter the cost. He hesitantly brought his thumb up to run it over your bottom lip, wiping his own saliva and the kiss off with it. You thought briefly that he might lean down to kiss you again and you probably would have let him, although you'd never admit it.

Instead, he spoke.

"Thanks." His voice came out barely above a whisper but it shattered the silence.

It was much deeper than you had expected, sending chills up your spine. You also detected the faintest hint of an accent, leading you to believe that he wasn't from anywhere around here at all. Accents varied the further out you went from the Inner Circle and his was noticeable with just the one word.

He lingered for a moment there with his thumb on your lips before stepping back, pulling his hood up. Without another word or giving you the chance to respond, he turned to go.

His pace picked up into a jog as he made his way around the corner, out of the alley, and back the way he came. You stood there staring into the darkness until the sound of his footsteps faded into the night, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened.

Only his taste on your tongue to remember him by, along with a sinking feeling that your world would never be the same.

It had been exactly 2 weeks since you crossed paths with the boy in the alley and it had been exactly 2 weeks that you hadn't stopped thinking about him. The unfamiliar sense of safety that you felt underneath his piercing gaze. His freckles that you took note of only after your faces were just inches apart. His plush lips and the way they felt against your own. His voice. You traced your fingertips along your lips, moving them down to where he had gently gripped your shoulders before leaning down to kiss you. When you closed your eyes you could feel his touch, permanently burned into your skin.

You hadn't gone outside of the palace grounds since that night for fear that you'd see him again. Or maybe you were afraid to admit that you hoped you would. Why had he been running from your fathers guards? They wouldn't have been there unless it was serious as they only became involved in something when it was directly related to your father and his orders.

Did you do the right thing in helping him to hide from them? Right and wrong were so muddled in your head at this point that you weren’t sure if it even mattered anymore. You weren't even sure if you were capable of doing the right thing considering the blood that ran through your veins.

One thing you were sure about is that in that moment something was pulling at you to keep him safe. Something bigger than right and wrong.

Sighing, you got out of bed, the sky was still dark in the morning hour, the palace ground cold under your feet. Today wasn't just any day, it was one you had been dreading. It was the day that your father had planned to throw a grand ball at the palace where he was going to finally reveal you to his most trusted advisors and the rich society members of the Inner Circle. Up until now, the only people who knew of your existence were within the palace walls. The staff, your father's army, guards, your trainers and tutors, all sworn to secrecy. Up until now, you were a ghost in the palace, regardless of your position as his daughter. But that was about to change.

Your father had decided that it was time for you to have a larger part in ruling the 9 districts beside him, and to do so you would need to be officially introduced to the world.

Was he finally going to tell you the truth? That he wasn't the righteous leader that he claimed to be, but a ruthless monster who stole resources and left innocent people to fend for themselves beyond District 9. Would he tell you the price he continuously paid to destroy anyone and anything that threatened his authority?

No, he wouldn't. As long as he lived, he wouldn't.

Even though he wanted you to stand beside him now, you knew that it was just for show. Even after your face was revealed, your influence in how things were run would remain nonexistent.

You had accepted it. You accepted the fact that all you could do for now was play along until you could come up with some way to use your position to help the people outside, but you didn't even know where to start. Sure, becoming leader of the 9 districts some day after your father was gone would allow you to change things, but you didn't have time to wait that long. They couldn't wait that long.

Letting out a frustrated groan you rubbed your temples, feeling a headache already coming on. You just had to focus on tonight and get through the ball despite the fact that the thought of so many eyes on you, permanently associating you with your father and his regime, made your skin crawl.

You stepped into the corridor outside of your bedroom after freshening up and gave a small wave to Jisoo who looked even more stressed than usual as she buzzed by you. Her arms were full of lavish decor to set up for the festivities. As you moved through the palace, staff hustled around you making their way to the grand hall where they were setting out desserts alongside rarities including fresh cuts of meat, cheeses, and drinks with real fruit in them. It made you sick to think that nearly everything being used to set up for tonight had been taken from the surrounding districts. You wished you could give it all back to them. To the starving families. To the old bartender who had been kind to you in District 7. To the boy with the freckled face that you kissed in the alley outside of it.

You wondered what life was like for him. Was he hungry? Did he have somewhere safe to sleep at night? A family to protect? You shook your head as if the action would help you to physically push him out of your thoughts.

But he was persistent.

The day passed quickly and before you knew it you were being poked and prodded into an extravagant red gown with a tight corset that made it difficult to breathe.

"I dont understand why we need to make such a big deal of this..” You complained to Jisoo as she put the finishing touches on your hair after the others had left.

"You know...I bet your father is going to keep an eye out for potential suitors…" she trailed off, giving you a soft smile.

“What do you mean?" you inquired, eyes wide. And Jisoo laughed.

"For marriage! He's going to want to pick someone for you who will be an asset to your family in the future. To help you keep the districts in order after he's gone. I hear there's plenty of matches lined up and just wait until they see you."

She was right, you did feel pretty in the dress despite how incredibly uncomfortable it was. But how could you even pretend to care about any of this right now, let alone marriage to some stranger who, for all you knew, could be even worse than your father. If that was even possible.

"Before tonight my existence was just a rumor..How can any of them want to marry me!?" you asserted.

"When your father is…." she trailed off again clearly trying to come up with the right words to use. "-when your father is who he is, do you think it really matters to them who you are?"

One thing about Jisoo is that she was never afraid to tell you what she thought. Unlike the rest of the staff in the palace, who walked on eggshells around you because of their fear of your father.

You fell silent after that, contemplating her words. After putting the finishing touches on your hair she gave you a tight hug and left to allow you a moment to yourself before the ball. You wondered what your life would be like if you were married and your goal of finding some way to help the people outside felt even further away.

Somehow the boy from the alley made his way back into your mind. A life with him certainly wouldn't involve tight corsets and suffocating lies. But then again, you didn't even know him. He was just a fleeting moment. A glimpse of something beyond the life you had always known, and while your lingering thoughts of him were a welcome escape from reality, they would fade with time.

He had probably already forgotten about you.

Later that evening you stepped out atop the grand staircase overlooking the great hall. Although the space had always been one of your favorites, it was exceptionally breathtaking tonight. The hall was like a breezeway, connecting two main parts of the castle. It was made entirely of glass, including a glass ceiling that you could see the night sky through. The warm golden lighting and massive chandelier added to the beauty of the space underneath. You noted the higher than usual number of armed guards on duty as they lined the hall, dressed in black with large guns rested in their arms.

At the start of the event your father had joined you at the top of the staircase above the growing crowd below. He was as stoic as ever in a sleek black suit and it was the first time you had seen him in a few days. He was always so busy that it wasn’t rare for a week or two to go by without speaking to him at all. Lately he seemed even more distracted.

Shortly after he joined you he began to speak to the crowd below, thanking them for their presence tonight at this monumental occasion. Voice commanding, expression devoid of all genuine emotion. Although tonight may have looked like a celebration on the outside, it was all business to him, all everything ever was. You looked out over the citizens of District 9 gathered below in their flashy outfits and eccentric hairstyles. Some of them wearing the only jewels and diamonds left in the world. You cringed when they clapped and cheered for you, the future leader of the 9 districts.

It was going to be a long night.

After the speech ended (and the exaggerated applause died down) you reluctantly made your way down the stairs. You maintained composure just as your father had instructed and he tightened his grip on your shoulder if you spoke too much to the eager guests. You were to come off as refined and elegant but authoritative and commanding, like him. It was of the utmost importance that you portrayed that tonight as it was the first time that you were meeting with anyone from the public and you needed to earn their respect, not that you actually cared what they thought of you. You would never be allowed to show the side of yourself to them that you showed to Jisoo. You rolled your eyes to her across the room behind your fathers back throughout the night, sharing silent laughter, as she made sure that the guests glasses stayed full of wine. Jisoo was your only friend and the only one who really knew who you were, but even she didn't know everything.

As the hours dragged on you were paraded around and introduced to all of the most important faces and names in District 9. You thought your wrist might actually fall off if you had to grab onto one more sweaty hand of a boy your age far too eager to touch you and personally introduce himself to your father.

Just as you decided that you physically couldn't take it any more and were going to need to find a moment to slip away before you actually lost your mind, the lights flickered.

They flashed on and off for a moment before going out completely.

The hall fell dark for no more than 10 seconds, illuminated only by the moon and the candles dispersed throughout. Haunting silence flooded the space.

When the lights returned whispers began to spread through the hall like wildfire. Your fathers guards shifted uncomfortably, hands falling to their weapons. You noticed a few of them make it a point to pick you out of the crowd, locking their eyes on you. Your father was across the hall where he had been engrossed in a conversation with a short man sporting a leopard print coat that touched the floor. You watched him scowl and excuse himself from the man, moving with urgency toward a small group of guards nearest to him, not bothering to look for you.

Before you had a chance to process what happened next, a deafening sound spread across the hall like thunder. The vibration was so strong that it shook the floor beneath your feet, shattering a pane of glass from the ceiling above. It was as if time had stopped with all eyes trained on the falling glass and then, like turning on a switch, the pieces shattered against ground and chaos ensued.

The next thing you registered was what sounded like muffled gunfire, followed by the glass walls of the hall shattering to pieces around you. Smoke began to fill the room from cans that were thrown in from the darkness outside, through broken spaces in the glass.

Shortly after the smoke began to collect, six..seven..maybe eight figures dressed in all black with bandanas covering the lower halves of their faces appeared. They rushed in through the broken glass walls, as if they had materialized from the night itself. The intruders moved swiftly, yelling to each other although their voices were barely audible over the screaming civilians.

You fixed your eyes on the bandanas they wore. Why did they look so familiar? Who were they? Where had they come from and how had they even gotten onto the palace grounds, let alone inside it??

Thoughts spiraled inside your head, too stunned by the scene before you to let you move. You caught sight of large guns held by two of the eight boys, one with a stocky muscular build and one that appeared to be leading the group. It was even more surprising when you observed a group of your father's guards run up and make contact with the boys, tossing a couple of them their own guns. You blinked rapidly but it did nothing to erase the scene that played out in front of you. The palace was easily the most heavily guarded place in all 9 Districts, but it had never occurred to you that any of the guards would dare double-cross your father.

Maybe not everyone was as afraid of him as you had thought.

Had they been the ones to help the boys gain access tonight?

The smoke flowed in waves around you, growing heavier as more cans were dropped into the hall from backpacks that a couple of the younger looking boys wore. Civilians screamed and cowered under tables in fear while you stood with your eyes trained on one of the boys in black whose figure looked a little too familiar.

You had to give it to them, the smoke was a smart cover on their part. Visibility in the hall had become so low that your father's men were holding back from shooting at the boys, for fear of striking a civilian.

You kept your eyes trained on the eight as they rushed toward the grand staircase, turning over tables and shooting occasionally at expensive looking objects and the glass around you with their borrowed weapons. They weren't aiming at people and didn't seem to be trying to hurt anyone. It was almost as if they just wanted to spread fear, feeding the chaos. Fights broke out between your fathers guards and it was incredibly confusing because you couldn't be sure which side any of them were on at this point.

Between the smoke, fighting between guards, occasional gunfire, and scrambling civilians, the boys succeeded in making their way to the top of the staircase. When they did, you witnessed two of them break from the group, the apparent leader and his well-built counterpart from earlier. As if it had been carefully scripted, the two quickly left and broke into a run heading deeper into the palace.

The guards below remained focused on each other, your father nowhere to be seen. The six boys left at the top of the staircase turned and pulled out objects from their backpacks. The objects they withdrew looked like tubes that they opened to slide out large banners. Each banner was dropped over the staircase landing, and together they displayed a message. The words painted in red.

TURN EVERYTHING UPSIDE DOWN

THERE IS NO PLACE FOR YOU HERE ANYMORE

THIS IS OUR DISTRICT NOW

Your eyes widened and you turned to look for your father, a guard, anyone, to see some kind of reaction but at this point the air was so thick that you could barely make out the writing on banners that had been dropped. The only reason you could see them through the smoke was because you were so close to the bottom of the stairs. It was obvious that the banners were meant to remain to be seen when the smoke cleared. It was a message to your father and the citizens of District 9, a message to you.

Just as quickly as they had dropped the banners, the remaining boys were joined by the other two, returning from wherever they had gone within the palace. They shared a quick word between themselves and with a command from their apparent leader, they began to urgently make their way back down the staircase.

Civilians continued to scramble and claw their way around you in panic. Emerging from the smoke, a large burly man covered in purple silk robes ran into you while trying to make his own escape. He crashed forcefully into your shoulder without looking back, causing you to stumble on your dress. Unable to regain your balance, you fell into the person running by you on the other side. They caught you before you hit the ground, letting out a deep grunt when you collided. When you looked up to meet their eyes your mouth dropped.

The air was ripped from your lungs when you made eye contact with the boy who had kissed you in the alley two weeks ago. He was dressed in all black like the others, with a bandana covering the lower half of his face and a heavy weapon strapped to his back. Even with half of his face hidden, you would have recognized the look in his eyes anywhere. He quite literally hadn't left your mind since that night, and here you were in his arms now.

He was one of the eight.

Still in disbelief, you moved quickly out of his hold, standing up to get a better look at him. He didn't seem to recognize you at first but when he pulled down the bandana to take a breath you saw his expression change from confusion to realization.

You held his eye contact wearing the same dumbfounded expression on your face and you knew. You knew. There was no doubt in your mind that it was him. His freckles had been revealed when he pulled down the bandana, the same one he had been wearing around his arm that night you first met. The dark brown hair that fell down into his eyes was pulled up at the back. When his gaze fell to your family crest on the necklace you wore, realization that he hadn't just kissed some random girl that night but the daughter of the most powerful man in all 9 districts spread over his face. You swear you saw the faintest hint of a smirk make its way across his lips when he looked up at you.

His eyes held a different sort of intensity compared to when you first met. There was something dangerous within them now and although you had been confident that he wouldn't hurt you that night in the alley, you weren't so sure that was the case anymore.

For a moment he looked as if he was going to say something to you. Hip lips parted slightly but before he could speak, one of your fathers guards came up behind you and grabbed your arm tightly, pulling you with such force that you jerked back. The guard pushed your head down and began to drag you with him. You struggled in his grasp to turn your head, watching as the boy from the alley stepped forward. He seemed to briefly contemplate following you, but again before he had the chance to move any further, another one of the eight emerged from the smoke. They began shaking his shoulder to gain his attention.

"FELIX! Can't you hear me?! What are you doing?! They're everywhere man we need to go NOW"

Felix.

Snapping back to reality, he quickly replaced the bandana over his face and tore his eyes from yours. They turned to make their way back to join the others when the boy, that you now knew to be named Felix, narrowly dodged a bullet as it whipped by his head. You moved to see where it came from and yelled at the guard who had hold of your arm moments before, his gun now raised beside you.

"Are you crazy?! You could hurt a civilian!"

Of course, you didn't actually care much about the civilians scrambling around you. It was just that you swore you felt your heart stop when the bullet barely missed Felix's head.

The guard ignored your words and went to aim at the boys again but before you even had time to think about what you were doing, you moved and stepped in front of him. The cool barrel of the gun pressed against your skin. You turned around where Felix met your gaze again. His eyebrows arched in surprise, obviously taking note of you putting yourself between him and the gun. To anyone on the outside it would have looked like you were protecting him.

Were you protecting him?

You mouthed "go" and if you had blinked you would have missed the nod he gave you in return. Without wasting another second to risk being shot at again, he spun around, following his comrade into the smoke. They moved quickly out of sight with a herd of your fathers men running after them. Many of the guards from earlier that appeared to have been working with the boys lay motionless on the ground now.

The guard beside you dropped his gun and replaced his death grip on your arm, dragging you with him once again. He was furious that you had ruined his shot, however he still had the chance to do something worth being recognized by your father if he was the one to get you to safety.

You looked back at the hall in the hopes of catching one last glimpse of Felix, but he and the others were already long gone. They would have escaped back the way they came, through the shattered glass walls, with your fathers men close on their heels. They were probably being hunted right now in the darkness outside.

Please. Please just let them make it out.

You begged with your thoughts to whatever higher power might be listening in. You couldn't explain it but you needed them to make it out alive. For some reason, the thought of a lifeless Felix joining the other bodies that lay motionless on the ground made your stomach churn.

The thought of him being dragged back alive for your father to deal with made it worse.

The guard turned a corner with your arm still in his grasp and the sounds from the hall faded with every step you took. He made his way down the corridor before throwing you into a room at the end, locking the door behind him. You shook the knob but it was no use. Sliding your back down the door you sat crumpled against it, your red dress spread out around you.

None of it made sense. Why would the boys risk their lives to send a message? Then again maybe it wasn't about the message at all. You remembered when two of them left the group after making it to the top of the stairs, heading briefly into the palace. Had the banners and the chaos they created actually been meant to act as a distraction? If that was the case, why had they really been here tonight? How had they even come into contact with your fathers guards outside of the palace and how had they convinced some of them to betray him?

Why was he with them?

Felix.

His name rolled off of your tongue. He was the enemy. You knew that. You should know that. But something made you step in front of a loaded gun to keep him safe tonight.

Maybe you weren’t on opposing sides. After all, you didn't really have a side anymore anyway…Not that he would know that. As far as he knew, you were just like the rest of them.

After what felt like hours of sitting on the floor with your head in your hands, you were about to doze off when the lock opened with a swift click behind you. You stood immediately, backing away when the door opened and you were met with the same guard from earlier who had locked you in the small room.

“Its over. I’ve been instructed to take you to your quarters until further notice. The palace is on lockdown.” He motioned for you to come out, clearly irritated that he had been the one sent to collect you.

“My father-“

“-is alive” he cut you off. “And no, I didn’t tell him what you did getting in front of my shot like that. Stupid girl. It would have been worth the civilian risk to get at least one of those bastards,” he huffed.

Did his words mean that they made it out alive? You made a point to mask any trace of concern in your voice when you spoke.

“They got away?” you paused before adding “all of them?”

“Yes all of them. All eight. They had a vehicle waiting just outside of the palace gates and they were gone before we could get to any of ours. How the hell they got access to one of our vehicles and convinced some of our own men to double cross your father nobody knows. At least the traitors got what they deserved.”

You shuddered looking away. The men that had betrayed your father must have known their fate was inevitable, and yet they thought whoever those eight boys were and what they stood for was worth sacrificing their lives.

You turned back to the guard as he spoke again, putting on your best attempt at masking the relief that washed over you when you heard the boys had made it out safely. All of them.

“As for the eight rebels we will find them. Under order of your father we will find every single one of them and I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes when he gets his hands on ‘em. Now come on, I said let’s go.”

The tone in his voice told you that you weren’t going to get anything else out of him right now, he wasn’t exactly your biggest fan to begin with, so you stepped out through the doorway. Your footsteps were the only sound, echoing throughout the eerily silent corridors while the two of you made your way through the palace. Up stone steps, you walked deeper in the direction of your bedroom.

Only one thing remained on your mind as you replayed the events of tonight over and over in your head.

Him.

Felix.

You couldn’t ignore that from the moment he disappeared tonight, part of you desperately hoped you would see him again. You were afraid the same part of you would be willing to do whatever it took to make sure that you did, and that terrified you more than anything in this world ever had.

Part 2

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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imagine-darksiders · 9 months

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Eden's Heir, chapter 3.

A Way Out

Words: 6219

Summary: You're not on Earth, and that truth is as devastating as it is implausible. You have to get out of this Void. But there's only one demon who can offer an exit. Unfortunately for you, there's also a certain Horseman who' deems it necessary to keep you close, for curiosity's sake.

----

There is very little dignity in fear.

When allowed to fester, even the tiniest pinch of it will start to bulge and swell inside you until it’s too large to be contained by the churning walls of your stomach. So, instead, it spreads through your bloodstream, eating up the space inside you like an infection as it strips away reason, humanity, and even hope.

Especially hope.

You’re not proud that the unexpected knowledge of your true whereabouts sends you into an immediate downward spiral of terror, but in the absence of any better ideas, you think it’s at least a little justified that you promptly stagger away from the otherworldly beings, drop to your backside on the cold, hard ground, gather your knees to your chest and proceed to come apart right there in front of an honest-to-goodness demon, and two Horsemen of the Apocalypse…

You’d always heard that wedding days are enormously stressful, but this is just ridiculous.

You’ve retreated to the precarious edge of Vulgrim’s plateau, not close enough that you’re worried about accidentally toppling over into the misty void, but at least far enough from War, Strife and the leery merchant that at least a diminutive fraction of your unease is lifted.

The blood on your arm has already dried to dark, crackling flakes, and it’s through unseeing, bulging eyes that you stare at the raised line of flesh wrapped in an arc over your forearm.

There’s one startling realisation plaguing your mind more emphatically than any other.

This isn’t Earth. This isn’t Earth.

A whirling onslaught of fresh, new terrors start to haunt you, terrors you’ve never even had to think about until now. You can’t find a voice for all the questions that clutter your mind. And you don’t pay much attention to the set of watchful, amber eyes that have remained glued to you ever since you stumbled dazedly over to the fringe of the floating platform.

Strife is abuzz with questions of his own, questions he’d readily bombard you with were it not for the vacant stare you’re currently aiming at the wound his brother left across your delicate flesh.

Grimacing, the older Nephilim twists himself sideways, keeping one eye on you and the other on War and the demon, both of whom seem more eager than Strife to turn the conversation back to other matters. Namely, business.

“Now then,” Vulgrim announces, clicking the tips of his long, curved claws together in eager anticipation, “I think it’s safe to assume you boys haven’t come here just to have me confirm the identity of this lost, little human…”

War’s lip curls unpleasantly, as if the mere act of even speaking to the merchant turns his stomach. Vehement, he growls, “Our work doesn’t concern you, demon.”

But Vulgrim, ever discerning, simply draws his mouth upwards to reveal the gleaming maw of fangs that sit crookedly behind his lips – a mocking reflection of War’s sneer.

“Oh, but it must,” the demon drawls knowingly, “Why else would you be here?”

War’s expression further twists as if he’s tasting poison on his tongue, and Strife has to stifle a smirk.

Drawing himself up a little closer to the demon’s height, War bites out, “Samael sent us here…” Trailing off to look Vulgrim up and down, he narrows his eyes and adds, “Maybe it was to collect your head.”

Far from threatened however, the conniving demon merely raises a single, slender finger and wags it back and forth in a manner that sets War’s teeth on edge.

“Ah ah ah~” he admonishes, “Careful, Horseman… Show the right temperament and I can be of… service to you. But first, you must be of service to me.”

Strife has to resist the urge to throw his head back and groan. He probably ought to have seen this coming a mile off.

Can’t spend five minutes in the presence of a demon without them angling for a favour…

War, it seems, has also cottoned on to the merchant’s less than subtle hint.

The Horseman’s armoured shoulders almost double in size as he bristles angrily, spitting, “The Council does not negotiate with demons. If you try to take advantage of them-“

“-And by extension, us-!” Strife chimes in.

“-Then there will be consequences.”

His latest threat complete, War narrows his ice-blue glare up at the hovering demon, who, to his dismay, only barks out a dark, mocking laugh and spreads his gangling arms out wide, as if to invite the Horseman to carry out the Council’s apparent ‘consequences.’

“Your Council has no power here,” Vulgrim drones, eyes as sharp as a whetted blade, “This realm is mine, and therefore subject to my rules. If anything were to happen to me, it would certainly prove tragic for you. You’d be trapped here in the void. For all of eternity.”

Strife’s trigger finger twitches of its own accord. He loathes that the demon has a point.

Just then, from the corner of his gaze, the eagle-eyed Horseman catches the rapid movement of your head snapping upright.

Curious as to what’s drawn you from your catatonic state, Strife swivels his helm in your direction, perking up when he sees you clambering awkwardly to your feet, struggling to move your puffy skirts aside.

He’d welcome you back to the present, but your stare is fixed with disconcerting precision on the demon floating behind him.

“Wait, wait a second,” you fumble out in a rush, taking a single, daring step closer, your cheeks still glistening with tears, “What did you say? Y-You’re the only one who can get me out of here?”

The mention of an exit… The hint of an escape…

A tiny flutter of hope drifts free of your soul and you latch onto it with greedy hands, like a child snatching at a butterfly, desperate.

It’s the only force in the world that could lure you closer to the titanic Horseman and their implausible acquaintance. That first, tentative step turns into several more, though you’re quick to freeze in place when three pairs of eyes flick in your direction, sending a rush of adrenaline racing up your spine.

You’ve never felt more like prey in your life.

The demon’s stare especially unnerves you. It seems to eat right into you like acid, hungry and all-consuming. His mouthful of teeth holds your focus as he lifts blackened lips into what you can only assume is a terrible grin.

“Now do I have your attention?” he asks smugly, tossing his gaze back over to the Horsemen, neither of whom give you the impression that they’re as hopeful about the latest revelation as you are.

After a moment, War bunches his hands into fists and tears his eyes from you, turning to glare down the merchant instead. Strife’s attention, however, remains locked on you for a further second before he too throws a dark look up at the grinning Vulgrim.

A shaky breath gushes past your lips once you’re no longer in their sights. It feels as though you’ve just been released from a cast of stone. For just a moment, you spare an absent thought to those Greeks of ancient myth who stared down the legendary gorgon, Medusa. You think you might finally understand, at least a little, what such a fate must have been like. The power of a predator’s gaze is not to be underestimated; it seems.

Vulgrim is still leering right back at the Horsemen with an awfully superior smirk plastered across his cragged jaws, a look that has Strife’s jaw clenching.

“Patience ain’t my brother’s thing,” he growls, “Or mine, now that I think about it… So, whatever point you’re trying to make, make it.”

The demon’s smirk shrinks at the curt tone, but nonetheless, he inclines his head and begins to explain. “Fine. The Lords of Hell are forever in conflict,” he says, “They seek power. Control… Lucifer and Samael most of all…”

You can’t help yourself from jumping in with an embarrassing squeak of alarm. “Lucifer!?” you parrot, once again earning their attention, “A-As in, like, the Devil? Satan!?”

In the span of a second, Strife’s irritation at Vulgrim lifts to make way for amusement at your interruption. “You know another Lucifer?” he quips, grinning down at you from behind his visor, “Big guy won’t be happy someone’s tryin’ to steal his thunder.”

A wave of anxious heat surges up the back of your neck and you throw a hand up to curl trembling fingers around a fistful of hair. “Oh my god!” you blurt, chest heaving, “Is this Hell!? Am I in Hell right now!?”

In response, Strife lets out a rough snort whilst Vulgrim merely offers you a shake of his great, ghastly head. “I’m afraid not,” the demon laments, casting a morose glance at the void surrounding his lonely plateau, “Sadly, Hell is several planes south of this one.”

For several, arduous seconds, you can do nothing but stare up at him in incredulous silence as your brain chugs along slowly, attempting to wrestle with the bombshell that not only does the Devil purportedly exist, but so too does Hell itself. You’re looking right at a demon, after all. It would stand to reason that a place of perdition exists too.

In contrast to the magnitude of the knowledge you’ve just been made privy to, a thin, rasping, “What?” is all that creaks out of your throat.

The question is answered by a low huff from War, who fixes you in his stern glower and rumbles, “This does not concern you, human.”

Gulping, you retreat a step back, almost tripping over your dress in the process as your eyes flit up to the broadsword strapped across the behemoth’s back. Your mouth dries at the very fresh memory of what he’d done to you the last time he paid you any attention.

Unbeknownst to you, Strife’s ears twitch at the click of your heeled shoes on the stone, and the catch in your breath.

Folding a pair of heavily armoured arms across his sizeable chest, he too takes a step away from War before ambling sideways, parking himself stubbornly between you and his brother like a living, breathing blockade. “Hey, come on. Lay off,” he retorts, jutting the chin of his helm out at War, “She’s just as lost here as we are.”

Just like that, the younger Nephilim’s expression shifts, his hardened expression lifting to a quizzical look that he aims at his brother, as if even he hadn’t expected Strife to come to your defence.

Still, despite his surprise, he’s quick to recover his wits.

You, in the meantime, can only stare agape at the armoured expanse of a back suddenly standing in your way.

“We are not lost,” War insists, furrowing his brow, “We’ve just been waylaid.”

“On the contrary, Horseman…” Vulgrim’s slimy tone encourages War’s expression to darken even further. Raising a slender finger into the air, the demon continues, “You are both precisely where you need to be.”

With a quiet scoff, Strife shifts his weight onto the opposite leg, throwing Vulgrim a nasty glare. “Figures you’d know more than you’ve been letting on…”

You almost jump a mile when War gnashes his teeth at the merchant and booms, “Out with it! You know why we were sent here. I demand that you tell us!”

“Demand…” Vulgrim clicks his tongue derisively, but after a moment, he concedes to heave his shoulders into a shrug and rolls his green eyes towards the foggy void above him. “Oh, very well,” he sighs, “Samael sent you here because he has learned that Lucifer is attempting something… unexpected.”

The mention of the latter’s name nearly sends you scampering back to whimper at the edge of the abyss.

Plainly oblivious to the nausea churning in your guts, Vulgrim continues, “He is extending a hand to his enemies, Horsemen. Offering something very desirable in exchange for their…. cooperation.”

“And Moloch is one of those enemies,” Strife hedges, though his tone indicates that it’s far from a question.

Suddenly, Vuglrim drifts backwards, a move that has you ducking into the shadow of the metal titan standing with his back to you, but the demon pays your flinch no mind, simply folding his lanky arms across his chest and cocking a sly grin down at Strife.

“Ah, nothing in the world is without cost,” he tells the Horseman, voice dripping with pompous bile, “If you wish to know more, we must enter into an agreement. You recall that I asked you for a favour?”

Now, up until today, you’d been of the entirely sane opinion that demons only existed in the pages of story books, or behind the screens of televisions and computers. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned from pop culture that could apply here, it’s that striking a deal with a demon would be about as sensible as sticking your head into the jaws of a starving bear.

The Horsemen, it appears, share the very same sentiment.

Strife tilts his helm to send a hostile glare up at Vulgrim, and you could swear you hear something that sounds so much like thunder rumbling away inside his chest.

Even still, War’s objection is far louder than his brother’s.

Peeking around Strife’s side, you observe as the larger Horseman’s entire body goes taut and rigid with sudden animosity, and he begins peeling his lips apart to bare a set of gleaming, white teeth. The animosity, though it isn’t directed at you, still draws the blood away from the surface of your skin, leaving you several shades paler than your typical complexion.

Vulgrim, in contrast, either doesn’t notice the dramatic shift in their demeanour, or he simply doesn’t care.

Bold as brass, he presses on. “A precious artifact has been stolen from me,” he laments with a roll of his wrist, “I sought Samael’s assistance in the matter, but…” Trailing off, he regards the pair of bristling behemoths with a glint in his sharp, green eyes. “Perhaps,” he adds thoughtfully, “You could recover it.”

Dead silence pervades the void for a long, awfully uncomfortable length of time whilst you send fleeting glances between each of the Horsemen, up to the horned demon, and back again.

“Know what?” Strife pipes up without warning, dropping a hand to rest casually on the barrel of a pistol, “At this point, I’m more interested in killing you than helping you…”

Such a nonplussed hint at murder throws your heart up into your throat, and you blanch, gaping incredulously at the spiked, black hair jutting from the Horseman’s helm.

You’re starting to deduce that Vulgrim must be used to such threats. How else could he stare down a man with a gun that size without flinching?

“That would profit neither of us,” he deadpans. Then, raising his voice to an enticing lilt, he adds, “It’ll be worth your while~!”

Strife’s shoulders jump with a sceptical grunt.

“It’s true!” Vulgrim retorts, “I give you my word.”

“Oh! Your word?” Strife echoes sarcastically, “Well, why didn’t you say so! We’ll do it!”

Blinking, the demon quirks a brow ridge. “Really?”

“Sure!”

Everyone, yourself included, stares at Strife in silence for a time, each of you expecting him to throw his head back with a laugh and tell Vulgrim that he’s joking. But as the seconds tick by in which Strife merely peers up at the demon without a word, you start to get the impression that he is not, in fact, joking.

After it becomes clear that his brother isn’t about to rescind his offer to actually help the merchant, War bodily whirls about to face him and scoffs, “You can’t be serious?”

Strife’s metal shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “Look at where we are, War,” he mutters, swinging his mask in an arc to take in the void around you, “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

Cowering behind him, you nervously cast a glance around his elbow again to see War’s face screw up beneath his crimson hood, ice-blue gaze flitting sideways to throw a look out at the darkness beyond the platform. With each passing second, you see his eyebrows knit closer and closer together, forming a solid line of white hair upon his strong forehead.

Though he’s loathe to admit it, War can see the sense in his brother’s words.

If they are to leave this place and continue their mission for the Charred Council, they’ll need the help of a demon to do it.

Spitting a Nephilim curse that would have Death reprimanding him with a smack around the head, War snatches his glare to the opposite side of the plateau, steadfastly refusing to meet Strife’s eye.

Sensing the Horseman’s acquiescence, Vulgrim’s toothy maw stretches into a too-wide smile, showing off fangs that glint like knives when they catch the murky light.

“Hah,” he declares triumphantly, “I will provide a serpent hold for travel.”

“A serpent hole?” you whisper under your breath.

You’ve heard of worm holes before, but serpent holes?

Frankly, you find it hard to conjure up the effort to actually care what kind of holes he’ll be providing.

If this ‘serpent hole’ means a way out of this place and back to that drab, terrifying church, you’ll take it.

“Well, all right.” Strife declares suddenly, and before you can move, the massive, metal man steps to one side, revealing you in full to the eyes of his brother and the demon. “Vague mission. Unknown dangers. Undetermined reward… What’s not to love?”

In response, War grunts, and then, to your dismay, his gaze lands on you, and you’re once again rendered stuck, pinned beneath the heavy weight of his preternatural glare.

Even with a demon hovering close by, it’s War’s attention that leaves you feeling the most exposed. The fresh, pink scar on your arm begins to itch.

“What are we to do with this human?” he mutters to Strife, who plants his hands on his hips and tilts his helm at you, not unlike how an inquisitive bird peers at something shiny.

“Just a suggestion,” Vulgrim cuts in eagerly, “You could leave her here.”

Letting out a fierce gasp at his words, you recoil from the salivating demon as if you expect him to pounce at any moment.

“Yeah, no,” Strife retorts for you, “Nice try. But that ain’t happening.”

Somehow, War’s perpetual frown manages to grow even more severe as he snaps, “You’re not suggesting we take her with us?”

You have to admit, you concur with the hooded giant. You’re not a fan of Strife’s idea either, even if it does mean getting out of this god-forsaken ‘void.’

Exhaling roughly through his nose, Strife hunches his massive shoulders and replies, “Why not?”

“Because this human is none of our concern!”

“So… what? You’d rather just leave her to be eaten by tall, dark and gruesome over here?”

Vulgrim hums a note of disdain as Strife jerks his chin in his direction.

Staring at his brother, War’s expression turns calculating, reminiscent of the way he looks over battleplans and strategies before a fight. “You’re being awfully insistent about this.”

“Oh, come on, War!“ Strife groans, slumping his shoulders and throwing his head back dramatically, "You’re not even a little curious? Don’t you wanna know what we were fighting for? This human is one of the reasons the Charred Council ordered us to murder our-!”

“-Do not dwell on the past, brother,” the enormous Horseman suddenly cuts him off, his nostrils flaring wide as he scowls down at his sibling, a warning hidden just beyond bared teeth, “The Charred Council gave us new orders. They are all you should be concerned about.” Throwing you a suspicious glare, he adds, “This… human is a distraction we cannot afford.”

“Hmph.” Eyes narrowed to razor-thin slits, Strife folds his arms petulantly across his silver chest and mutters, “Sounds like a distraction is exactly what you’re lookin’ for.”

Leather bracers strain with an ominous creak as War’s fists clench slowly at his sides. “What was that?” he challenges.

Giving his shoulders a nonchalant shrug, Strife just flaps a hand at his brother, as if to casually waft away the larger Horseman’s aggression, “Nothin’. Nothin’…”

Growling, War snaps his head towards Vulgrim, who has done little else but hover nearby with his eyes trained eagerly on the brothers and their quarrel, looking thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.

“Are you waiting for an invitation, demon!?” he snaps, “Summon a portal.”

Blowing out a hefty sigh, Vulgrim throws his hands up compliantly and swivels around in midair until he’s facing the centre of his raised dais, grumbling incomprehensibly under his breath as his wings give an agitated little flutter.

Impatient, War simply huffs, growing still when the back of his neck begins to prickle. There are eyes upon him that aren’t his brother’s.

With a sudden shift, the Horseman twists his head sideways and anchors it in your direction, subjecting you to an undeserved glare from beneath the lip of his hood.

Choking on a gasp, you drop your eyes to the floor near your feet quick as a flash. You’re so focused on not meeting the gaze of the crimson-clad giant that you fail to notice his brother boring a hole into the side of your head, regarding you with a pensive expression.

Obviously, leaving you here isn’t an option. Not least because frankly, he has way too many questions.

But he needs War on his side.

So, breathing a sigh, he raises his head to meet his brother’s eye and tries a different approach. “What about the Balance?”

And just like that, War’s body goes tense at his brother’s soft question. The haunting, blue stare you’ve found yourself caught up in starts to falter, drifting away from the pink scar running over your arm and moving towards the older Horseman. “Strife…” he begins tiredly.

There are very few beings in the Universe who could claim to know War as well as his brother. But one doesn’t have to know War deeper than surface level to see that honour and duty are among the youngest Horseman’s chief principals.

“The Council said Lucifer’s plotting humanity’s downfall as we speak…” Strife continues, unhurried.

Blinking rapidly, you forget your terror of War for a second and throw your head up again to blurt, “I- He- He’s what?”

“And these little guys-“ Strife jerks the chin of his helm at you, staring hard at the younger Nephilim. “-Are integral to the Balance.”

He doesn’t miss how War’s lips tighten into a thin, displeased line.

‘Gotcha.’

Though he knows his brother would have no way of seeing it behind his helm, Strife holds back the triumphant little smirk that tries to angle across his mouth. Just to be safe.

“You’d protect humanity,” he presses, knowing full-well that something is about to go ‘clunk’ in his brother’s mind, “But not a human?”

Lo and behold, no sooner has he asked the question than War’s steely countenance drops by a fraction – A fraction so negligible that only the sharpest eyes would be able to spot it.

It just so happens that Strife has the sharpest eyes in the Universe.

By his own claim, sure. But still.

“I don’t know what’s more concerning,” War grunts, shaking his hooded head, “The fact that you listened to what the Council said. Or the fact that you actually have a point.”

Strife stares hard at his brother for a long moment whilst you give them both a look of abject horror, pulse jumping in your temple.

“Woah,” the older Nephilim utters at last, “Did you just admit that I have a point…? Can I get that in writing?”

Slipping his eyes shut, the largest Horseman inhales deeply through his nose and exhales a breath in a noisy rush through his gritted teeth. “We’ll take her,” he concedes at last.

Straightening his back, Strife innocently asks, “What?”

“We’ll take her.”

You’d probably throw up at the declaration if you weren’t so irrationally concerned about staining the wedding dress.

Eyes as cold as tundra frost turn their attention onto you.

Fittingly, you feel the blood in your veins turn to ice.

“Human,” he growls, “You’re coming with us.”

“I-I don’t… want to…?” you croak weakly.

Slinging his chin sideways, Strife asks, “You’d rather stay here with this guy?”

With an audible gulp, you throw a glance at Vulgrim, only to find his gleaming, green eyes peering down at you hungrily.

Recoiling, you pull a face and send a beseeching, watery plea to the Horseman. “I-I just want to get out of here.”

“There, see?” Strife exclaims, jabbing a thumb down at you and grinning up at his brother, “She wants to come with us.”

Aghast, you immediately start to sputter, “That is absolutely not what I meant!” The courage it takes for you to return your gaze to the looming demon is astronomical. Raising a trembling hand, you gesture floppily at him and add, “He said he can make a -a snake hole for you guys! Can’t he make one for me as well?”

“It’s serpent hole,” Vulgrim corrects with a tut, still turned towards the centre of his platform, yet he spares you a glance over his sinewy shoulder, ebony horns shimmering in the sickly light.

“Whatever!” you screech, panicked at the mere fact that he’s addressing you, “Just pick a hole, open it, and let me go home! Please!”

“Ha!” Strife barks.

Struck by the sudden urge to scold his brother - though not quite understanding why - War shoots a scathing glare at Strife before returning his attention to you again. “The only ones with the power to send you to Earth are the Charred Council,” he explains.

“Then take me to them!” you try to demand, but the squeak of your voice is frustratingly prevalent. You imagine you’re no more intimidating to these beings than a mouse is to a lion.

“Listen.”

You leap out of your skin, literally clutching your pearl necklace as Strife speaks and shifts about on his feet to face you.

“Let me tell you something right now,” he says, “There are exactly two ways to get a summoning from the Charred Council.”

Taking a heavy step towards you, he raises the first two fingers of his right hand, counting them off as he starts to explain, “The first, is if they have a new mission for us.” He drops his middle finger, wagging his remaining digit at you. “And the second, is if we finish a current mission. And seeing as we’ve just started this one…” Trailing off, he tips his chin down, peering at you expectantly, observing in silence as your expression slowly begins to crumple.

‘Shit… Can all humans pull that face?’ he grimaces to himself, ‘Might be more powerful than they look.’

In the end, War puts words to what you’ve just realised.

“We will not be summoned to the Council until our mission here is complete,” he grunts.

The weight of his words drops into your stomach, sending the whole organ plummeting down into your shoes. Wringing your hands, your thumb brushes over an abnormal band of metal resting at the base of your third finger.

Wetting your lips, you lower your eyes to the sizeable diamond engagement ring sitting prettily on your left hand. Ever so briefly, you’re struck by a memory, of the first time you showed your father the ring that Cain had given you. You almost had to call the nurse into his hospital room because he laughed so damn hard and nearly tore out his drip.

‘He trying to marry you or buy you?’ he’d wheezed after a raucous guffaw, clutching your hand with skeletal fingers, his knuckles so swollen and arthritic, the only thing you could bear to do was look away. The guilt of averting your eyes haunted you until you fell asleep that same night.

You have to clench your eyes shut with vicious force to banish the memory. You can’t think of him right now, laying there, all alone with a tube in his arm and the grimmest of prospects waiting just a few weeks down the line.

“H-how long will it take to finish your mission?” you bleat, feeling the suffocating fist of helplessness closing around your heart.

You have to get back…

“Dunno,” Strife shrugs, “Depends how much more demon bullshit we gotta take care of… Though considering recent events… I’m not hopeful for a quick resolution.”

“But I need to go home!” you bleat, twisting your fingers around a handful of your dress’s tulle, “You don’t understand – Dad’s last chemo appointment is tomorrow, a-and I’m supposed to be getting married, like… like right now!”

“I have no idea what you just said, but it all sounds very important. Which is all the more reason to get this show on the road.” Turning to face the demon behind him, Strife claps his palms together twice and barks, “Hey, Vulgrim. Serpent hole. C’mon, look lively!”

The merchant sneers, grumbling as faces the centre of his platform once more, spreading out his palms.

You give a start when a pulse of… something sours the taste of the air around you, turning dry, musty breaths into thick and acrid gulps that seem to slide across your tongue with each inhale. Instinctively, you cover your mouth.

Wind whips your veil up into a flurry of white fabric. With a graceful whirl, it blows forwards and you have to throw a hand up to catch it, sweeping it back away from your face as you stare agog at the spectacle forming in front of you.

In a word… it’s… beautiful.

In a lot of words, it’s also incredibly bright and shit-inducingly scary. It isn’t natural to see magic, not outside of a children’s birthday party or a heavily edited video online. Your eyes take it all in – the circle of azure light that swirls to life in the ground before you. Where there was once a patch of dull, grey stone, now there’s a pool – not of water, but of something that moves and flows just like it.

Your mouth hangs open as Vulgrim lowers his arms and drifts back with a beat of his vestigial wings, away from the serpent hole.

“It’s all yours, Horsemen,” he declares, bowing with a grandiose sweep of his hand, “Oh, but before you go – Do be careful. The keeper of my artefact will be, ah… less than pleased to see you.”

“No one is ever pleased to see us,” Strife grumbles, wincing at the bitter undertone that shines through just a little too brightly for his liking. Clearing his throat, he gruffly adds, “That’s kind of the idea.”

They’re Horsemen now. Dreaded enforcers of the Charred Council… Hated. Despised.

“War?” Strife brusquely addresses the larger Horseman, gesturing towards you with a jerk of his head.

Throwing his brother a heated glare, War takes a begrudging, booming step in your direction, quaking the ground beneath your feet.

You’re nearly sent toppling ass over teakettle in your haste to back-peddle away from the armoured behemoth, launching your hands out in front of you and blurting, “Woah, woah, woah! Hang on a moment!”

You very nearly faint on the spot when, against all odds, the Horseman actually pauses midstride, a single, ivory brow quirking to peer at you expectantly. You’d have thought that nothing short of a tank could make someone his size hesitate.

Sliding his gaze smoothly between the two of you, Strife has the gall to tip his helm to one side and ask, “What’s the matter, Princess?”

‘Princess’ indeed. If he wasn’t the size of a skyscraper, you’d have half a mind to smack him with your bag. As it is, you doubt the satisfaction of striking him would be worth the painful death that’d surely follow such an insult.

“I’m… I’m not going anywhere with him.” You point accusingly at War instead, though you swiftly drop your finger after he gives it a look that suggests he’d like to cut it off.

“Oh, come on, he’s not as bad as he looks,” Strife prods encouragingly, “Is this about your arm?”

Incredulous, you gape up at the Horseman for a moment before pursing your lips with a shrug, as if to compose yourself. “No, actually, I just don’t particularly like his attitude- YES OF COURSE IT’S ABOUT MY FUCKING ARM!”

“He healed it up afterwards!” Strife replies brightly, as though you’re both having a friendly debate about the weather. If anything, judging by the upward curve of his luminous eyes and his jocular tone of voice, you’d almost wager that he’s actually enjoying your little back and forth.

One of your eyelids twitches, and you have to take a moment to think of something coherent to say, but when you open your mouth, the only word that leaps out is an incredulous, “What!?”

“And besides,” Strife breezes over you as if you’d never spoken, “I’m sure he’s very sorry. Right, big man?”

Pressing your lips together dubiously, you follow Strife’s pointed gaze up to his brother, who leers back at you with his stony face set like a dark thundercloud, his chest quaking around a resonant rumble.

You can’t imagine this beast has ever apologised for anything in his life - if he’s even had the inclination to.

Trying to swallow past a lump of nerves, you glower mistrustfully at the handle of the broadsword jutting over War’s shoulder, and declare, “He can be as sorry as he likes, but he is not putting me on his shoulder!”

Pursing his lips, Strife blows out a whistle, lifting a hand to scratch idly at his jagged, ebony hair. “Well,” he shrugs, “You’re comin’ with us either way. So… You wanna step through the portal yourself, or what?”

“… Hard. Pass.”

“Oh…” His gaze darts to the ground before he flicks it up to you again, one eye squinted halfway shut. “You sure?”

“Am I sure I don’t want to be carried through a mystical worm hole by the same brute who nearly cut my arm off not five minutes ago?” you clarify, subconsciously cradling the aforementioned appendage in your opposite palm, “Yes. I’m sure.”

Something of a standoff ensues between you and Strife, the latter of whom squints down at you for several, perturbing seconds, his hand still clasping the back of his neck. Another few beats pass, measured by the steady ‘thump,’ ‘thump,’ ‘thump,’ of your heart pounding in your ears.

Sadly, the relative peace only lasts another second when Strife allows his hand flop back to his side, raising one, silver shoulder into a shrug and announcing, “All right, suit yourself!”

“Suit my-wah!?”

Without warning, the Horseman takes a sudden, lurching step towards you, and before you can back-peddle clumsily out of range, two enormous, metal hands launch out to catch you around the waist, fingers spread widely enough to envelop your heaving ribs.

Struck by a sense of déjà vu, you waste no time in bunching your hands into fists and slamming them furiously down on top of Strife’s gauntlets, succeeding at nothing beyond hurting the heels of your palms. All the same, you dig right down into the bottom of your own, personal well and manage to scoop out enough drops of courage to holler, “Don’t you dare!”

With the same effort you’d use to lift a porcelain doll, Strife simply hoists you up into the air – still kicking and flailing – and slings you over his armoured shoulder. You land with a hard jolt of pain, followed by a yelp when something sharp jabs into your stomach.

“Should’a gone with War if you wanted a comfier ride.” The Horseman curls a cumbersome arm across the seat of your dress, pressing down the layered tulle and securing you in place much like his brother had not too long ago.

“You can’t do this!” you shout, “This is-! I mean, i-it’s kidnapping!”

Strife barks out a sharp laugh as he steps up beside his brother, and together, they peer down into the blue, swirling vortex that roars with dark and ancient energies, beckoning them in.

“Kidnapping?” he parrots, deliberately jostling you on his shoulder to get a squeak out of you, “Nah, nah, nah. If anything, this is a rescue. You don’t wanna know what Vulgrim’d do to your soul if we left you here.”

Half draped over the titan’s spine, you twist your neck to the side and meet the eerie merchant’s emerald gaze. Perturbingly, you can’t quite tell if he’s grinning at you, or if he’s displaying his thrawn fangs in threat.

You shudder, and that terrible, insincere smile stretches wider.

“Ironically, she may be in less danger here than she will be in whatever demon-infested pit he’s sending us to…” War points out.

“Eh, probably.” Raising a boot into the air, Strife takes one, long stride forwards into the portal, feeling the ground fall away below his feet as his matter begins slipping towards another plane of existence. Before he disappears entirely however, he twists his helm over a shoulder to catch your wild-eyed stare, throwing you a lopsided wink once he meets it.

“But comin’ with us is gonna be way more fun.”

#Darksiders #War x reader x Strife #Darksiders genesis #Vulgrim #fear #angst #innuendos #suggestive

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winchester-girl67 · 1 year

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Love Deliciously

Summary: After an incident on a hunt, the reader tries to boost the boys' morale with a homemade feast and a little Christmas decorating. But Sam leaves for his own romantic endeavours and she catches Dean with himself after months of feeling touch starved for his affection. Something he hasn't given freely lately as his own guilt weighs on him. Nothing a little mistletoe can't fix though.

Requested by Anonymous: "hey love! if your still taking requests, i’d love if you could write a oneshot with gf!reader who is basically horny 24/7 and just wants to make out with dean all the time. like he comes back from a hunt and reader finds him and just wants to be on top of him on the table at the bunker"

Pairing: Dean x reader (established relationship)

Square: Hanging Mistletoe @spnchristmasbingo Touch starvation @spnfluffbingo

Word Count: 3,546

Rating: mature 18+ MDNI

Warnings: language, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (be smarter than them), male masturbation, sexual frustration, touch starvation, mentions of past temporary death of reader, implied excessive drinking, kissing/cuddling, biting, teasing, a little pining, a little angst, fluff

A/N: Also written for @spnchristmasbingo and @spnfluffbingo. Smut is below *** (minors dni). Enjoy!

_____

Dean hadn't touched you in three months. Your relationship had been in a rut ever since that ghost hunt that left you near dead and Sam in a cast. You tried everything from jumping his bones, to wearing practically non-existent lingerie, to even a can of whip cream and a couple cherries you'd rather not talk about.

Nothing worked. He blamed himself too heavily on this one and you couldn't convince him otherwise. Fortunately, he hadn't tried to break up with you but if your past was any indicator, that was just yet to happen.

So you decided to take a different approach and sat the latest hunt out to decorate the crap out of the bunker. You had coloured lights and garland wrapped around the staircase and a beautiful tree you found in storage set up on top of the war table.

You had a fully decked out turkey dinner prepared with all the fixings and for dessert there were zucchini oatmeal muffins for Sam and pumpkin pie for Dean. Everything still in the oven to keep warm since they would be walking in the door any minute now.

Christmas was always Dean's favourite time of year and last year with the apocalypse looming over your heads, you didn't get to celebrate the way you would've liked. With loads of homemade food and family and board games and hallmark movies and cheap gifts from the gas station down the street.

It wasn't about what you got, it was about the time you spent together. Times were tough lately, for longer than you cared to remember; this was your way of bringing joy back into Sam and Dean's lives if only for one night.

You all needed a break from your worries.

You took a step back and examined your handiwork. The library was almost unrecognizable, hidden in evergreen garlands and lights and patches of holly, glass ornaments and fake candles. All that was missing now was the final touch.

Mistletoe!

You set up the step-stool in the entrance of the library. You had Dean install a hook for the ball of mistletoe a couple years ago, which was still there, but the stool wasn't quite tall enough and you had to really stretch and hold your breath to be able to reach it. It was more than a little troublesome and you let out a long breath once you hooked the ribbon on. You smiled up at the ball of white and green and sunk back down to your heels from your tip-toes.

"Did elves throw up in here or something, Y/N? What is all of this?" You jumped and stumbled off the stool at the sound of Dean's voice.

You hadn't heard him come in. That child-like sense of wonder his eyes usually wore at the sight of Christmas decorations wasn't there.

"How'd the hunt go? Where's Sam?" You asked and shoved the stool under the table in the library.

"Same old shit, different day." Dean huffed and walked into the library.

He dropped his duffle-bag of weapons onto the floor with a loud clunk sound and Sam appeared from the hallway wearing a scowl.

"Really, Y/N?" Sam frowned as his eyes darted from garlands to candles to the ball of mistletoe.

He always was a bit of a grinch. It was the most colourful and bright the bunker had ever been. You went a tad overboard but in a good way. At least you thought so.

"Seriously, Sam? It’s Christmas Eve!”

"Yeah, well... Enjoy 'cuz I'm outta here." Sam said, giving Dean the stink eye.

Great, they were fighting. Again.

"Dido," Dean said, mirroring his little brother's bitch face.

Then both boys practically growled at each other and stormed back down the hallway towards their separate rooms. You hung back in the library to admire your handiwork regrettably, this hadn't gone the way you'd expected. And you couldn't chase after them either, you had to check on the food.

You grudgingly padded down the hall towards the kitchen, starting again when you turned the corner to see Sam was already investigating the smouldering oven.

He glanced back at you when you asked, "Is it burnt?"

"Uh," he gave you a sympathetic look like he finally caught onto what you were trying to do for them. Then your bottom lip quivered and he was quick to add, "No, no. It's not that bad, we -uh, we can salvage it."

Sam shoved his large hands into the oven mitts and pulled out the turkey first. The whole top of it was burnt, but the pie and muffins suspiciously seemed to be okay since they were on the bottom rack.

"I just wanted things to be like before," you said, popping a muffin from the tray to check the bottom of it. Burnt, just like you thought. No doubt the pie would be too. You popped the top of the muffin off and tasted a piece of the edge. "Why are you guys fighting this time?"

"Honestly, Y/N, I don't know." Sam sighed and you offered him a piece of the muffin top, "Did you put zucchini in these?" He asked around the bite he took.

"I knew you probably wouldn't eat the pie, health freak." You quipped and Sam chuckled. "Sorry it's burnt."

"Nah, the top's the best part anyways." He gave you a quick side hug which you returned.

"Sammy, you know I don't really believe you, right?" You knew he knew very well why they were arguing, he just didn't want to tell you.

He pursed his lips, "What gave me away?"

"You never say honestly unless you're lying." You squinted up at him and smirked when his stoic face broke. You knew him too well. "Was it about me?"

"Dean's just protective, Y/N."

"OVER-protective, you mean." You rolled your eyes and set the rest of the muffin top on the counter, "I hope you took my side, I always take yours." Sam didn't answer and instantly you knew he didn't. Your mouth dropped open at the obvious betrayal. It was an unspoken rule that you and Sam always had each other's backs. "Samuel William Winchester!"

He pointed at you, "Y/N, you were dead-"

He was talking about that hunt. The hunt that put your relationship with his brother in a rut and him in a cast for two months. The ghost hunt.

You threw up your arms in protest, "Only for two whole minutes! That barely counts!"

"You didn't see him," Sam shook his head and avoided your eyes, "If you didn't come back... He's never been in love before-"

"In what?"

Four years of dating Dean and he never once said it... 'I love you'. How hard was that?!

Sam rubbed the back of his head, "Uh-"

"Wait, then why were you guys fighting if you took his side? Traitor," you muttered the last part under your breath.

"Because he's acting like he's gotta death wish," Sam explained.

"So, classic pissed-off-Dean then."

"Exactly! But he's not the only one that hated that day. You scared me, Y/N, you're my best-friend, you're family and it wouldn't be the same around here without you." Sam argued, but you understood where he was coming from.

You felt the same thing every time they did something stupid and almost got themselves killed.

"It hasn't been the same with me lately." You sighed and hopped up to sit on the metal island.

"Look, I appreciate what you are trying to do here with the food and the decorations-"

"But?" You tilted your head and he gave you his best puppy dog face.

"But, I think you'll have a better chance at getting through to him if I take off for a bit."

"Sam, you don't have to do that. This is your home too and it's plenty big enough for us all." You frowned and furrowed your brow.

"Uh, yeah, but I was gonna go see a friend anyways." He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Friend?" You thought for a moment, "Eileen?! Finally! You know she asks me about you all the time."

"Yeah," Sam blushed and cleared his throat, "Good luck, Y/N."

"You too, Sammy." You gave him a wink and he headed for the door, "Remember to be safe. No glove, no love!"

Your incessant teasing only made Sam high-tail it out of there faster than you thought a moose was able to move. You were still giggling at just how red you were able to make him turn when you passed by Dean's bedroom. The room you'd been sharing with him for the past three and a half years now. Number eleven.

When you heard something, a whimpering... -Or a moan?

You rested your ear against the wooden door. Definitely moaning! That was not the type of sound he made when he was having a nightmare either, you should know!

You threw open the door, letting it hit the wall with a bang and Dean jolted up in bed. His brow was sweaty and he was panting when you noticed the tent and his right hand in his sweatpants.

"Y/N! It-it's not what it looks like." He pulled his hand from his pants and you scrunched up your face.

Normally, you wouldn't give a shit if Dean wanted to have a little self-love, but you couldn't get him to kiss you lately. Hell, he didn't even cuddle you unless he was already out cold and rolling over in his sleep. And that's on the nights he even cared to come to bed at all! He spent most of his time passed-out in the Dean cave in front of the TV, surrounded by too many empty beer bottles.

You couldn't believe it, you were jealous of his right hand; that's how fucking pent up and frustrated you were.

"Why won't you touch me anymore, huh?" You asked a stunned Dean who didn't bother to get out of the bed. "Are you trying to push me away? Is that what this is?... You're not even gonna try to deny it?!"

You growled inwardly to yourself and walked away before he had a chance to speak. You didn't even bother to shut the door, you just picked up the pace and sprinted to the library. Then started ripping the garlands down until you spotted the mistletoe. That fucking traditional ball of forced Christmas kissing and cheer was taunting you like a clown with it's thumbs in it's ears.

Admittedly, you were at the end of your rope. The mistletoe looked nothing like a clown nor did it have hands let alone thumbs or ears.

You dragged the step stool out from under the table and in a second, ripped the ball of mistletoe from its perch on the hook and tore the ribbon.

"Y/N, we need to talk."

You turned to find Dean standing in the doorway, slightly hunched over to hide the state he was in. Like it wasn't fucking obvious that he didn't finish. And 'we need to talk'? Was he fucking kidding? He was finally gonna break up with you, like this?! You almost hoped so, so then you could stop driving yourself crazy about him.

"Why don't you just go back to your cartoon porn!" You chucked the ball of mistletoe at him and hit him exactly where you intended to.

"...It's anime-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, anime." You snapped dryly and rolled your eyes.

You hopped off the stool and continued destroying your hours of work decorating. Muttering curses under your breath at how stupid your idea was. You burnt dinner and the fucking decorations did nothing to improve anyones mood.

"Y/N, stop." Dean said, when you stepped on a bulb and felt a little pinch but you ignored it and him. "Stop!" He grabbed you from behind and held on tight as you thrashed against his hold. "Stop, sweetheart."

His hold tightened and he buried his face in your neck when you sobbed. You stopped fighting and sucked in a shaky breath and a hiccup. It took a long minute until you were able to relax slightly and he pressed a kiss to your cheek when you did.

"Here, look." Dean said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

He showed you the video he'd been watching while he was alone in the room with himself. It was of you, two summers ago, at the beach. You were holding his hand and tugging him towards the ocean, turning and laughing at him when he said the water was too cold. He was really just afraid of sharks. Eventually he let go of your hand and stayed on shore while you waded in, up to your knees and splashed him with the salty brine. It was a great weekend.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in your ear and locked his phone as he tossed it on top of the bookcase. "I've been such an idiot. I thought I could do this but I can't. I just- I just love you. Too. Damn. Much."

You turned in his hold, feeling all of him against your backside as you did. "What did you just say?"

You couldn't believe your ears. He never said that, not because he didn't feel it, you saw it in his eyes every time you were alone together, every time things got heated or whenever you brought home pie... but, for him to actually say it was a big deal!

"I love you," he rested his forehead on yours and stared into your eyes.

"So," you squinted and teased your lips against his, "I guess this means you're not gonna break up with me?"

"You'll have to kill me first." He said and kissed your breath away.

His hand cradling the back of your head and tilting your mouth to accept him better. Then his tongue swiped across your lip and you parted your lips to let him in. Savouring the way his muscle slid against yours before you broke the kiss.

"You know you're always the one saying that a hunter's life is short-"

Dean's lips locked with yours again and you felt every inch of your skin burst into flames, "And your point is?"

"We shouldn't be wasting any of the time we do have together," you nuzzled his cheek with your nose and felt him sigh, "Are you done pushing me away?"

"Mhm," he nodded, his face against yours.

His skin was dewey with sweat and you could smell the musk he'd worked up by himself. It made you weak in the knees and if it weren't for his hands on your lower back you'd be a puddle on the floor by now.

You pulled away when he tried to kiss you again, "Promise?"

"I promise," he said and chased your lips.

You let him capture your lips with his and tangled your fingers in his short hair. His big hands slipped lower and cradled your butt in his palms. You squeaked when he squeezed, leaving indents of his fingers no doubt and you pulled his hair until he groaned into your mouth.

"I'm sorry I threw the mistletoe at your balls."

Dean laughed and hummed, "Maybe you can kiss them better."

**************************************

He backed you up against the table, pressing moist heavy kisses all over your neck. It sent tingles through your veins and down to your toes before you felt it settle in your stomach.

All thought was lost.

You laid back on the table, allowing Dean more access to your neck as he placed kisses trailing along your flushed skin and past your collarbone. He pulled the collar of your shirt down and continued kissing between your breasts. His hand pawing at one of your peaks as the other laced together with your hand and held it down against the hardwood of the tabletop. His hardwood pressing against your inner thigh as he slotted himself between your legs.

You turned your head to the side as Dean nibbled at your jaw and pushed up your shirt. You laid next to the initials you all carved into the wood; yours and Dean's forever etched together and encased in a heart. He was romantic in his own way sometimes.

You pushed on Dean's chest until he backed up and allowed you the space to sit up. You tugged off your shirt and jumped off the table to rid Dean of his too. Then you grabbed his waist and turned him around just to shove him back against the table. He fell onto it with a grunt and watched as you pushed your leggings down your legs along with your panties.

"You are so damn perfect," he groaned as you rid yourself of your bra, but he was looking into your big Y/E/C eyes when you met his gaze.

You thought that must've taken quite a bit of will power and chewed on your bottom lip as your own eyes drank in his vulnerable form. He was propped up on muscular arms and his tummy tensed as you dragged your fingertips from his navel to his waist band.

"Fuck, Y/N," Dean groaned though you had barely touched him and he tried to sit up but you pushed him back down. You giggled and slowly pulled his sweatpants down his bowed legs, leaving him as bare as you were. "Get that cute ass of yours up here now."

You weren't particularly fond of his command, especially after three months of lost touches and mixed feelings. So instead, you decided to tease him by kissing the inside of his knee. Then you kissed a little higher, and sunk your teeth in the fleshy part of his thigh. A little love bite that had him growling in an octave lower than natural and he fell back against the tabletop. His head hit with a loud thunk sound and you popped up from between his thighs to see him desperately trying to catch his breath.

"Oh my gosh, Dean! Are you okay?!" You rushed out and climbed on top of him to feel the back of his head.

Dean grabbed your neck and pulled you in for a heated kiss. It was months of pent up carnal desire and he had to break the kiss to pant into your mouth; fitting his lips to yours whenever he felt he had enough breath. It was like he'd just run a marathon and you felt his heart beating through his chest under your palm.

"I swear you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart." He said and let his head thunk down on the table again, "Y/N, I just want you so bad."

"I want you, too, Dean. So. Bad." You breathed, "It's been way too fucking long."

"I'm sorry, baby. Never again."

You kissed his jaw and kitten licked down his neck as you reached between your misted bodies to line him up with your core. Dean grunted and held his breath as you sunk down slowly, determined to take him all at once. It had been a while and it stung a little with the stretch but soon enough all you felt was pleasure.

You started slowly, grinding into him and teasing him tirelessly and without remorse. It was gratifying to watch him writhe with lust for you as you gave him just enough to keep him on the edge. You thought he never looked like he wanted you more, not just anyone... you. But soon enough you needed more too and you rolled your hips and bounced on him until you were just as out of breath. Dean's hands found your breasts and he pawed at them, his fingers buried into the flesh as he held onto you and you felt him begin to twitch inside you. You wanted to keep up with him and slipped your fingers down to your centre; the touch inspiring a pulse in your nerves.

Dean felt it too and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling your chest flush to his as he took over. He braced his feet on the edge of the table and thrust up into you hard. You whimpered and tried to meet his thrusts, nibbling on his earlobe until he groaned loud and long and the sound sent you over the edge. Your orgasm stretching into his as he thrust a few more times, losing his rhythm and shuddering beneath you. His hands finding your ass and his fingernails imprinting on your cheeks as he held you to him.

Dean groaned again, "Fuck, Y/N, you're amazing."

He kissed your shoulder as he rode out his high and you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. You kissed his pulse point, feeling the strong thump in his chest beat against yours like you were at a concert standing next to a bass speaker.

He sighed as he came down, "My beautiful girl."

You wanted to stay with him, on top of him, just like this and you weren't exactly crushing him so you did and you mumbled against his skin, "I love you. Merry Christmas, Dean."

"Merry Christmas, Y/N." He chuckled and panted as he rubbed his hands up and down your back. "I love you, too. Always."

_________________________ Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

Forever SPN: @hobby27

#spnchristmasbingo #spnfluffbingo2022 #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x #dean x #spn fanfiction #spn reader insert #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n #spn #supernatural one shot #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #spn fanfic

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iamhereonlytobeanunstableshipper · 1 year

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(First of all, English is not my first language so sorry if there are some mistakes long essays are hard to write djhdsfs)

HELLO GOOD MORNING CHERIK FANDOM SO the other day I made this post about a very hurtful and surprisingly overlooked parallel: Cherik not being able to shoot each other. Aaaand that second scene from DOFP where Erik is unable to shoot Charles has been keeping me awake at night for AGES and I really feel like we don't talk enough about it. So, here I am. Still being pissed off because of some fictional characters not kissing in some movies made years ago lol

So, here's an extended extract from that scene:

So. Erik's plan here is to kill Raven, bc you can't use Raven to create evil war machines if there's no Raven am I right lol. Charles, before Erik can shoot his sister, puts himself in between the gun and her (btw shoutout to Charles for being brave enough to put himself in front of a gun again after what happened in Cuba and the ptsd he 100% has bc of it I love you muac).

Let's make things clear here: There was nothing stopping Erik from killing Charles in this scene. He could've done it. Erik's mission at that very moment was to kill Raven, and Charles was getting between his mission and him. And we all know how things end when something gets in Erik's way when he's completing his mission. Erik does not care about collateral damage. For fucks sake, in this very same scene, he was willing to kill Raven off just bc it was easier and faster. He doesn't give a fuck about who has to die in favor of the greater good.

And I mean, technically, Erik should be more willing to kill Charles than Raven. Raven was his right hand for a while before he went to prison and she was his canonical lover. Charles, at this point in time, was his enemy. Both of them are very powerful mutants, with the difference that Raven is usually by Erik's side, and Charles is one of the only people in the world able to stop Erik thanks to his mutation. If Erik was willing to kill Raven, he should be willing to kill Charles too, if not as much, then more.

So... Why not? Why not shoot him, and once Charles was down, kill Raven too? Why is he able to attempt to kill Raven (his former ally and EX LOVER) and not Charles?

🤨 🏳️‍🌈 ❓

ALSO, now that we're here: Let's talk a bit about Dark Phoenix, too.

So, let's face it, DP is a bad movie. Overall, it's boring and that's pretty sad counting the masterpieces FC and DOFP are. But, hey, I can live with a boring movie. It's fine. What I CANNOT live with are things that are out of character. Especially when my fave characters are out of character. Ok maybe I'm being a bit too over dramatic here but I'M NOT

So: Let's talk about how Erik wants to rip the world apart over Raven's death in Dark Phoenix bc he's just so destroyed bc the love of his life died or whatever. Dude. I'm sorry but I don't buy it.

Correct me if I'm wrong here bc there's been a while since I don't rewatch Apocalypse or Dark Phoenix (again, meh movies), but from what I understand Erik didn't spend more time with Raven, apart from that bit in Apocalypse? Because after DOFP, Erik distanced himself from anything related to mutant wars to create a family, and then after Apocalypse Erik created Genosha and Raven stayed at the mansion, isn't it?

Assuming that this is correct, they're trying to tell me that between the scene where Erik was willing to kill Raven over the greater good in DOFP and the scene where he was willing to rip the world apart bc of her dying in DP, Raven and Erik only saw each other once. Riiiiight.

And, look. I'm not saying that Erik wouldn't feel sad about Raven dying. Of course he would. He's not made of steel (bc most steel is not magnetic. Get it? Magnetism, Erik... Imma shut up lol). Obviously he would feel bad. And I'm not saying that love can't last that long if they haven't seen each other in a long time, bc c'mon. I'm a cherik shipper. Of course I believe it can.

What I'm saying is that I can't believe that Erik is so devastated that gets blinded enough by his broken heart to hunt down a teenager that's being haunted by something she can't control. I can't believe it bc 20 years ago, it was him who was trying to kill Raven (and almost succeeding), a time that was way closer to their partnership and relationship than when DP takes place. If anything, he should be more affected in DOFP. Instead, he goes from almost killing her himself to wanting to rip everything apart bc of her death.

It. Doesn't. Make. Sense. So, Dark Phoenix's Raven x Erik plotline can suck my dick lol. If it doesn't make sense with the character's previous actions, it's not canon. That's how this works lol I don't make the rules

Summing up: Erik willing to kill Raven but not being able to shoot Charles in DOFP is EXTREMELY fruity and romantic, and Dark Phoenix's romantic plot between Raven and Erik makes 0 sense and is forced as shit

End of rant, thanks for hearing my ramblings on these gay old men and I hope y'all enjoyed it!!

(Also, of course, happy new year!!!)

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anothersarcasticdolphin · 2 months

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A refinement of my thoughts on a second Aemond 5+1 series:

So as much as I want to write Daemon's bastard daughter Daenys killing Aemond, I'm going to bump those two ideas from the series. They may get written as separate one-shots, but I want to keep the series as a whole consistent and not have a random OC showing up and then disappearing.

Also I kind of want to try and do each chapter across the series in a different POV.

1. Aemond's eye gets infected after Driftmark and he dies. 'Mournful song' I think this would be a one-shot from Alicent's POV. Which on the one hand I find very intimidating - because it would have to be centered around her worry and her gradual mix of denial and panic, where she is almost lying to herself.

2. Training accident with Ser Crispy (morningstars are dangerous) Title TBD. Or it might just be 'Morning(star).' I think this would be a two shot - with Ser Crispy and Aegon each narrating their very different accounts what would basically be the same events. I also think Alicent's POV would be great here, but I want her POV for the first story and I think Aegon could be very interesting as well.

3. Daemon pulls a Laertes during sparing practice. Title TBD. This would also probably be a two shot. Daemon and Rhaenyra would be the two POV characters, and this would Daemon in all his wrathful bastardly glory. He's going to be in love with Rhaenyra. But he's not going to be a good person.

4. Rhaenys uses blood magic to make Aemond kill himself [she's less theatrical than Daemon though] so Rhaena can have Vhagar 'Stolen (back)' This would be a one shot with Rhaenys as the POV character. And I think poor Vhagar may end up being rather instrumental in it all (in more ways than as just motivation), but that's by no means set in stone.

5. The Blacks show up after they find out what's happened to Luke and make what Dany did to KL look like a light breeze. 'Ashen wings.' This would probably be four chapters, and I want to model them after the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Baela as the Conquorer, Jace as War, [TBD as Famine], and Rhaena as Death. Jace is the most wrathful one, Baela vengeful but not quite as much as Jace, and Rhaena with a more detached perspective because she would be almost an outside POV as she wouldn't be in the actual attack on KL (at least at first). Also I want to get the line 'The best defense is a good offence' from Daemon in some form at some point.

So for Famine - Joffrey feels too young. I'm almost tempted to have Corlys be Famine given House Velaryon's control over trade in the Dragonstone/Driftmark/King's Landing area. Also Rhaena could be Famine and then I would have Helaena as Death. But I'm slightly terrified to try and write Helaena's POV.

+1. Aemond hates Aegon's guts for the pig incident and runs off to the Free Cities instead of doing his part for Team Green. 'The tree remembers.' This would be a one shot from Aemond's POV. Helaena is very an important character here. This one may end up being an au where Aegon didn't show up to his own wedding so Aemond married Helaena in his place - if so she and their kids are coming with Aemond.

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Ideas that are being relegated to independent one shots:

Aemond sides with Rhaenyra out of pure spite cause he hates Aegon's guts. This would be kind of cracky.

One of Daemon's less savory 'friends' gets Aemond while he is searching for Aegon. This would be an aftermath fic where the Blacks are on Dragonstone having been presented with the sapphire and are trying to figure out what to do.

OC [Daemon's bastard] kills him over Storm's End. 'A fell voice in the air.' We never got to see how scary Daenys could be in Four Dragons. This would probably be looking at three chapters - Daenys, Aemond, Daemon?. Also Storm's End is likely to be harmed in the making of this fic.

Daemon [+/- OC?] flies around burning stuff and gets the drop on Aemond. 'Hunter (Hunted)' The other candidate for the line 'the best defense is a good offense.'

Any thoughts?

#hotd fic #hotd fic ideas #my fic ideas #do people like these posts of me working out my thoughts for fic?#also I really need to get back to the Valyrian culture fic for second conquest #too many fics and too little time

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thefirstknife · 10 months

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I want to talk about Lakshmi-2 again since her story came back as relevant, as well as touch on Savathun since she's coming back. So this is going to be a retrospective on their involvement in Season of the Splicer!

A lot of people weren't around for Season of the Splicer or maybe don't remember it as well. That season was a lot and one of the most important parts of it was that at the time we still didn't know about Savathun impersonating Osiris. SOME of us who dedicated a lot of time to figuring it out have speculated it and were pretty much 100% convinced that Osiris in Splicer was NOT Osiris, but this wasn't confirmed until after Splicer ended.

I think that the misunderstanding of this event has also led to misunderstanding Lakshmi and what she did in Splicer. The entire season's story takes on a completely different vibe if you know that Lakshmi was heavily manipulated by Savathun whose presence in the City had a major goal of destabilising leadership and drawing attention away from her own schemes.

This isn't a post to justify anything that Lakshmi did; her actions in Splicer were unambiguously bigoted towards the Eliksni. She used her xenophobia for personal political gains while putting a vulnerable population in danger with her words and actions. Lakshmi's xenophobic preaching resulted in direct violence against the Eliksni. There is no excuse for that, no matter what's the origin of that xenophobia. I want to make that clear before I dive into this.

What happened in Splicer?

Season of the Splicer was the third season in Y4 (Beyond Light). It focused on a mysterious phenomenon known as "the endless night" which wrapped the Last City in perpetual darkness. This was done by the Vex. Nobody knew how to deal with this, including every single Guardian and scholar in the Tower so out of desperation, we turned to the Eliksni for help; sacred Eliksni Splicers had means to enter the Vex Network and find a root cause as well as a possible solution to the problem. This is how Mithrax and his House of Light were invited to the City, in an unprecedent move for an alliance with the Eliksni. Splicers and Guardians together have the unique power to manifest physically in the Vex Network and deal with the cause for the endless night. Long post under:

Accepting the Eliksni into the City was tough. Most humans have experienced some form of violence at the hands of the Eliksni. Our past is filled with wars and battles against the Eliksni. The first big battle for the City, Battle of Six Fronts was against the Eliksni who wanted to breach the newly built wall and attack humanity. Battle of Twilight Gap was a final fight against united Eliksni houses that got close to conquering the City, only to be held off at the Twilight Gap as the last line of defence. This battle was saved, in part, because Mara decided to reveal the Awoken and stop House of Wolves from joining Twilight Gap which essentially prevented Eliksni victory, but spurned the Reef Wars which devastated the Reef; both the Eliksni and the Awoken. This is but a small selection of the biggest conflicts that show for how long this has been going on and how many people were affected by the wars with the Eliksni.

This is all after the Eliksni arrived to the system just as our Collapse finished and they wasted no time settling in a world just beginning to recover from the Collapse. Early human settlements were routinely entirely destroyed by the Eliksni who were stronger and better equipped than humans; until the Risen showed up. But even with the Risen, ordinary humans still continued to suffer to both the Eliksni and the Risen and their combined conflicts. Stories about Amanda and Safiyah are but a fraction of stories of ordinary humans who had to deal with Eliksni attacks. This also includes civilian Eliksni; many Eliksni were literally just survivors of their own apocalypse and had nowhere else to go, while dealing with unfathomable desperation about being abandoned by what they saw as their deity. Both humans and Eliksni were exploited by their leaders and pushed to constant wars.

This is important to understand because it gives some context to why some citizens of the Last City were somewhat reluctant to accept the Eliksni being there, on top of the growing paranoia about a City plunged in an endless night at the hands of the Vex. Humans didn't just wake up one day thinking "Eliksni are stinky!" there were legitimate reasons for being afraid. Mithrax's daughter Eido confirms this in her logs, telling us that the Eliksni are well aware that they were the initial aggressors on humanity. The same can be applied to Eliksni as well; many Eliksni have lived with the knowledge that at any point in time superpowered immortal humans can descend from the sky and start indiscriminately killing them. They have horror stories about this, most notably about Saint-14 who led a long crusade against the Eliksni, including against civilians who wanted nothing to do with the wars. Putting Saint-14 and Mithrax in the same City during a Vex-induced anxiety was a ticking time bomb.

Luckily, Saint-14 is a kind man who is capable of reflecting and being compassionate. Once Mithrax explained how the Eliksni view him, he got deeply ashamed of his actions and sought to atone for his past. It took a while, but the Eliksni accepted him and he became great friends with Mithrax and was willing to lay down his life for Eliksni who, at the end, he claimed are his people equally as anyone else in the City. At the end of the day, the leadership of humanity and the Eliksni decided to put everything behind and start anew, which was the right thing to do. Everybody suffered in the past, but nobody has to continue suffering in the future. Giving everyone a second chance is literally the core theme of Destiny.

The Lakshmi-2 Problem

On the other hand, there was Lakshmi-2. She was the leader of the Future War Cult, one of the City factions. Factions in the city were representatives of the civilians; Future War Cult, New Monarchy and Dead Orbit were the three that operated for the interest of the civilians. Lakshmi was immediately deeply against the Eliksni settling in the City. She proceeded to be a staunch advocate for their removal, broadcast weekly radio messages with anti-Eliksni sentiments and stoked the anxiety and paranoia of the citizens, directing it towards the Eliksni. At one point, the animosity towards the Eliksni turned to violence as well, and the Botza District, where the Eliksni were settled, was attacked and their settlement ransacked. Many Eliksni were harassed in the streets and some were attacked. Lakshmi's broadcasts were a huge part of this violence, which ended with her broadcasting about taking matters into her own hands which resulted in opening a Vex portal to the City (specifically to Botza District to attack the Eliksni).

The fandom immediately hated her for that and with good reason. A lot of people were confused because they didn't think it was right to portray her as a warmongering politician which was always strange to me. She was the leader of the Future War Cult. Her messaging was always that of political warmongering. It's in the name. Splicer just amplified this because the situation was happening in front of our eyes and for other reasons influencing Lakshmi.

Lakshmi was shown actively using the Device, a prediction machine owned by the Future War Cult since the Golden Age which was made back then by Maya Sundaresh who founded the FWC and invested into this Device which is a mesh of Vex technology. Maya called it a "mind-ship" and shown that it was capable of displacing one's consciousness, allowing you to see the future, past, other timelines, or possibly something else. The contemporary FWC found remains of the Device and continued to use it for the same purpose. Using the Device proved to be largely damaging or even lethal to those put in it. A lot of the "futures" that users saw would be that of utter Darkness, war and collapse so they decided to spread the message that "war is all there is" and that there will always be some fight happening in the future and that we must always be ready for it. Lakshmi used this to prove that this whole thing with the Eliksni is that fight; the inevitable yet another clash between human and Eliksni that endangers us all.

It's important to note that using the Device is not safe and it's not reliable. It often shows stuff that is hard to interpret or even completely false and based on what the users wants to see. This shows with Lakshmi with a lot of the visions she was seeing. Even her own fellow FWC members were distraught at her behaviour at the time with some deciding to resign, believing that she was becoming corrupted and going mad. This is relevant because it shows that her close colleagues noticed that she was acting strangely.

And she was. Because of Savathun.

Savathun.

At the time, Savathun was in the city, masquerading as Osiris. Before Splicer, she tried turning us to war with Caiatl, which failed. After that failed, she turned to the ace in her sleeve; Quria, the Taken Vex Mind she was gifted by her brother Oryx back in the Books of Sorrow days. Savathun instructed Quria to manipulate the Vex into creating the Endless Night in order to create a problem for the City that will destabilise its leadership, and cause panic and infighting. Savathun was the one who, as Osiris, suggested that Mithrax and House of Light be invited into the City, knowing full well that it will cause issues. She wanted those issues. She wanted a panicking anxious population on the brink of slaughtering each other, gossiping, spreading lies and misinformation. She needed it to keep her worm fed and she needed it to keep eyes off herself, while she schemed to figure out how to get the Light. She needed time to investigate archives and find materials and learn as much as possible so a little background chaos was perfect for that; nobody will pay attention to an old man who recently lost his Ghost when there's bigger problems at the horizon.

This was possible to piece together during Splicer, but Savathun helpfully admitted to it all in the season after, in Lost. Of course, she framed it to appear that she was being helpful, but we as players have more information so we can piece together everything she's done. Savathun infected both Lakshmi and the City with her viral song. Lakshmi's last broadcast detailed that "Osiris" aided her in opening the portal. Savathun spoke to Lakshmi on multiple occasions. We also have proof of this from the other side, from the perspective of Osiris who could see into Savathun's actions while he was being held prisoner. This lore was the POV from Osiris, from Lost (after Splicer) and it shows Osiris seeing through Savathun's eyes as she was actively influencing Lakshmi. Osiris didn't even know who Lakshmi was; she gained prominence after he'd already been exiled. But he saw an "Exo woman" with "vacant eyes" and Savathun's "true voice" humming to her.

Savathun, besides creating both of the main problems (Endless Night and Eliksni in the City), also worked tirelessly to fuel violence in the City by corrupting Lakshmi-2. Savathun whispered in her ear, running suggestions by her, enticing her day by day and ultimately being the one who made her open the Vex portal in the middle of the City. Lakshmi, on top of being already driven mad by the Device, was also being driven mad by Savathun who desperately wanted the City's leadership to fight. It got to the point of suggesting a coup against the Vanguard. Lakshmi-2 and Executor Hideo (New Monarchy) got as far as to try recruiting Saint-14 to help them with the coup; when he refused, Hideo feared that he will tell Osiris everything and snitch on them, but Lakshmi was convinced that Osiris will stop Saint from saying anything. Why? Because it wasn't Osiris. The "Osiris" that Lakshmi knew was actually Savathun who would indeed try to stop Saint from outing their coup plans.

I want to stress again that Lakshmi wasn't innocent in this whole debacle. She had her own bigoted beliefs, coming from trauma; at the end we learned that Lakshmi-2 survived the sack of London by House of Devils back in the Dark Age. She has personally experienced a traumatic event of Eliksni attacking and murdering humans and destroying their settlement. The problem with Lakshmi is that she didn't even attempt to deal with that trauma or solve it. Saint was also traumatised, as were many other Guardians and people in the City and they all decided to put it aside and work towards getting better. Lakshmi held onto her trauma and never got over it. She confronted the Eliksni (Namrask) who participated in the sack of London and told him to his face that to her, he will never change from a conqueror he was, despite his very honest attempt to do so. Namrask, much like Saint-14 decided to put his warring past behind and to change and be a different person. And as much as Saint, he has the right to do so. Lakshmi denied it from him and instead still held onto her original belief that Eliksni cannot change and cannot be good.

Unfortunately, Lakshmi also never got a chance to change, given that the moment this all started, she was roped in with Savathun who wanted a City leader to sow chaos. Maybe without Savathun and the Device, Lakshmi would've turned out better. Maybe she would've thought about it more, learned to forgive, learned to accept the Eliksni (much like Saint), but she never got the chance before Savathun corrupted her. I feel like people forget that, or maybe even don't know about it. It's much easier to just hate Lakshmi and call her racist and talk about how violently she should die. The nuance and tragedy of her story is often pushed aside or not mentioned at all.

This is even more tragic now. Lakshmi was violated, deeply, in a way that is truly impossible to comprehend. She died, erased, in proximity to an alien entity. In her body, a new identity was installed, a combination of Maya and other Exos that participated in the "chorus" with her as the "conductor." She did not consent to this and as we've seen from her research into Spontaneous Exo Reset Syndrome, she was at least somewhat aware that something horribly wrong had happened to her. She was directed by impulses that were not entirely her own. Her interest in the Future War Cult and the Device are both suspect now, given that those things were Maya's obsessions and Maya used Lakshmi as a proxy; a twisted way to create a "child" by imprinting a part of yourself into them.

And as if that wasn't enough, she was grabbed by Savathun, a master in manipulation, lies and corruption who didn't care about her or about the City or about the Eliksni. I hope people can also realise that it was Savathun who used the bigotry against the Eliksni as a tool with zero care for actual victims of this bigotry. Eliksni dying in violent attacks around the City were nothing but an accessory to Savathun; accessory to her plans to ruin us while she's looking for a way get rid of her worm with the Light. It was entirely selfish, through and through, with no regards to either humans or Eliksni. In this case, I would put more blame on Savathun than Lakshmi for any kind of bigotry towards the Eliksni; Lakshmi could've learned better had she gotten a chance, while Savathun had many chances and simply did not care.

Lakshmi was an incredibly interesting character to me since I first saw her. This is partially due to her VA (Shohreh Aghdashloo) whom I adore to death so just hearing her speak had me enchanted. But Lakshmi and the FWC were always my favourite faction and I didn't like how the community boiled them all down to just xenophobia towards Eliksni as if there was nothing else to them and as if they all agreed with what Lakshmi did in Splicer. At the same time, people ignored the same xenophobia first and foremost from Savathun who had zero reason to even remotely object to Eliksni being in the City, or even New Monarchy who also participated in Lakshmi's schemes. It was only ever Lakshmi, a woman whose trauma was manipulated against her by an entity known for toppling down entire civilisations with the use of manipulation and corruption. Savathun infiltrated many civilisations in the same way she did ours and they all ended up much worse than us: her infiltration of the Harmony led to their downfall and her corruption of Umun'Arath led to the fall of Torobatl. A lesser known example is told to us by Rhulk, of a species (Kalarahnda) he came to destroy but that destroyed itself upon seeing him because someone (Savathun) alerted them to him so they spent centuries preparing their entire civilisation for his arrival as per her instructions. When he arrived, they self-destructed their whole planet, believing they're fulfilling a great prophecy of mass sacrifice to ascend. This was Savathun's doing; instead of helping them escape Rhulk, she orchestrated their demise purely to take the satisfaction of it from Rhulk. Not to help those people, to spite Rhulk.

I'm adding this because I want to absolutely stress how much Savathun does not care for any lives other than her own. Entire civilisations crumbled into dust due to her manipulations. We've talked about this before due to some of the stuff writers said about Savathun recently and I feel like people simply forget this or want to excuse it, but are super quick to judge Lakshmi in a way they never would Savathun; the actual person who orchestrated her actions and ultimately her death.

I think they should both be judged, albeit in different ways. And I definitely think that the blame for what happened to the City during the Endless Night and specifically for what happened to the Eliksni should fall mostly on Savathun, not Lakshmi. It was Savathun who even orchestrated the endless night to begin with. Lakshmi was complicit and she had her own issues that she should've worked out in the centuries she's had to think about them. Savathun probably chose Lakshmi because she was an easier target; already with a problem against the Eliksni. A believable victim, someone that wouldn't take much to convince and corrupt. I'm also of the belief that, as Osiris, she also tried to do it to Saint-14, but he's a much more principled person than Lakshmi.

So they both suck. Both Savathun and Lakshmi were using the struggles of the Eliksni as a tool for their own gains which contributed to untold Eliksni suffering, but in the grand scheme of things, it was Savathun that forged it all from the bottom to the top. She made the Endless Night, she directed the Vanguard into going to Mithrax and the Eliksni for help, she orchestrated their settlement in the City, she spent time picking a target in the form of Lakshmi to spread propaganda and force people to be in a perpetual state of panic and misinformation for months, while she tended to her own goals of gaining the Light.

And once more, Savathun's attempt to put us at war with someone, ultimately led to another alliance. At the end of the day, compassion and friendship in the face of danger prevailed because Destiny is fundamentally a story about hope.

It's just something I wanted to recap and remind people if they aren't aware or don't remember. Because I feel like the new information will reignite the old "Lakshmi is racist" spiel with complete disregard of everything we know about her and with complete disregard of the actual culprit of the bigotry in Splicer: Savathun.

This doesn't mean that you can't dislike Lakshmi for what she's done. You absolutely can! We can't claim that all her actions were because of Savathun; as a matter of fact, she was chosen by Savathun because of how maleable she was. It's not easy to just turn someone into a bigot. The new information definitely adds to the tragedy of Lakshmi's life and to how much she was manipulated by those around her, but it doesn't remove her own fault for what happened.

This also doesn't mean that you have to hate Savathun. Just be aware of some of the more heinous stuff she's done and don't ignore it or view it as not important. Savathun's actions should be condemned as much as Lakshmi's, if not more so, but I'm not here to compare who's a worse bigot. They've both done horrible things to humans and Eliksni in a situation where we needed to stay united. And in the same way we can discuss the complexity and tragedy of Lakshmi, we have to acknowledge it for Savathun as well. She was a victim of manipulation as well, someone who took millions of years to realise that those she swore her life to are liars. She will eventually have to reckon with that.

Luckily, the outcome was ultimately in our favour, although not without consequences. Many Eliksni were attacked and died. Lakshmi died and the rest of the factions were exiled. We now can't simply ask Lakshmi about the new revelations, we can't get more information from her or the FWC, something that might be able to help us understanding and defeating the Witness. There's still a chance to find out in some way, but it would've been so much easier if we could simply ask someone who is in the City.

Splicer was a really good season, I highly recommend going through the story of it if you haven't played. DLV has everything in the playlist I linked and the official channel has just the cutscenes. Being there was truly a whole special experience because of the stuff with Savathun and Osiris. I cannot stress enough that the majority of the players did NOT believe that Osiris isn't Osiris. The theory was out there but it was largely not listened to. Some even used lore tabs that explicitly confirmed the theory from Splicer to claim it debunks it. It was a wild time. The wildest of all was the ending where people were genuinely saying that the ending to Splicer changed their mind to NOT believing it was Savathun. It was one of the most mind-boggling time in Destiny for me and I think that the misunderstanding of that whole plot made a lot of people either forget or not properly understand Savathun's involvement with the events of Splicer. If one played through the whole thing believing that was actually Osiris, Savathun's actions may have eluded them, especially if they didn't engage with a retrospective of the season. I believe that understanding how Savathun manipulated Lakshmi is important for understanding Lakshmi as a character, especially now with these new reveals (and possibly directly because of the new reveals; perhaps Savathun also targeted Lakshmi because of her origin). But at the end of the day, Lakshmi is still someone who couldn't let go of her xenophobia which made her the best target for Savathun to manipulate. That one is on her, regardless of all of her origins and trauma.

#destiny 2 #season of the splicer #lakshmi-2 #savathun #eliksni #long post #lore vibing #don't know what to do with myself in this heat so i'm writing essays. shfkjshakjdh #but yeah. the new lakshmi stuff made me realise that a lot of people missed splicer #and that there's a lot of people who didn't miss splicer but definitely missed savathun actively fucking things up #it's a much better story with the whole context. a lot more complexity especially with lakshmi #it's really easy to just assume she was a bigot randomly. a bigot like her is actually more dangerous than that #she had a reason rooted in trauma (making her feel justified) and that was exploited by much more powerful actors #and everyone had to pay for both lakshmi and savathun. eliksni most of all.

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tyrannuspitch · 7 months

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the thing is. i really do think odin loves his children. i don't think his motives are about sadism or lack of morals or lack of care. i think he's just so deep in rationalisation for The Greater Good and destructive cycles where he tries to fix things using the tools that broke them that he truly believes there is no other way. i think he's so so deep in doing terrible things for supposedly noble reasons that he's become indistinguishable from someone amoral. and i think on some level he knows that too. but what is he meant to do. there's no way back. and isn't every other path but the one he's on worse. AND i think if you truly undeniably confronted him with this, he wouldn't even defend himself. he would just turn away. because he KNOWS. he has destroyed himself and his family and rained devastation on the universe, and for what. he was trying to save the world from an apocalypse that never came.

#space viking tag #meta #ch: odin #r: loki + odin #r: odin + thor #th: war + apocalypse #as i've said before. he is like merlin bbc merlin to me and i mean that so so seriously.

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wordsandrobots · 2 months

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IBO reference notes on . . . odds and ends

I have begun writing another big notes entry but it's a heavy one and requires visuals, so I suspect it'll be a while before it's done.

In the meantime, here are a few jottings on various random things in Iron-Blooded Orphans I thought worth commenting upon.

Naming conventions

The headline one, obviously, is the Gundams being named for the demons listed in the Ars Goetia. This we eventually discover is an in-universe response to the naming convention used for the mobile armours the Gundam frame mobile suits were developed to take down. Each mobile armour is named for a angelic figure: Hashmal is named for a class of angel while Harael, Mebahiah, Nemamiah and Ananel are all apparently derived from the Shem HaMephorash. It would be neat if all the names came from John Reuchlin's list of 72, which corresponds directly to the goetic demons but Hashmal nixes that idea.

It's also unclear if the names are for individual units or if they represent different lines or categories of armours. I tend towards the latter, simply based on the scale at which the Calamity War is presented as happening. This is somewhat tenuously is backed up by the Iron-Blooded Orphans G mobile game (RIP) presenting the player with a battle against 'Ananel Alpha' and the flashback in the Urdr Hunt campaign seeming to show Gundam Marchosias fighting a pair of Haraels. Though I must admit, I've watched that clip a few times and still cannot quite make up my mind it if represents two Haraels or just the multiple perspectives of Harael's claw eyes.

In any case, it seems that whoever named the Gundams had enough sense of drama to designate their 'angel hunters' as actual demons. And yet, the overall organisation that operated them -- Gjallarhorn -- embraced quite a different tradition.

This was of course Norse mythology. Each family in the Seven Stars ruling council has heraldry based on a different beast from the sagas (Odin's Ravens, Fenrir, Sleipnir, Jörmungandr, Nidhogg, Veðrfölnir (probably), and Ratatoskr). They have bases named Vingólf and Gladsheimr. Their mobile suits are derived from a set of machines named after Wagnerian valkyries, and they designate various different types of 'suit using German words. And of course, 'Gjallarhorn' itself is the name of the horn that sounds the start of Ragnarök (fitting, for a group formed to prevent the apocalypse). Plus, you know, there's Vidar's whole deal.

Curiously, there is an additional use of a Norse name in the setting: the Garm Rodi, a seemingly unaffiliated type of mobile suit primarily seen in use by the Dawn Horizon pirates. Given this is an instance of mythological naming in a line that otherwise has prefixes like 'Spinner', 'Landman' and 'Monkey', I wonder if perhaps this indicates the type of machine used by Gjallarhorn prior to the development of the Valkyrja and Gundam frames (these both belong to the late Calamity War period, whereas Rodis were deployed during the middle period; no we have no idea how long each period lasted). I haven't any particular reason for thinking this beyond it being named for the dog that guards Hel, but given Norse names are otherwise entirely restricted to Gjallarhorn, it would almost be weirder if there wasn't a connection.

(The Garm is also noted for its versatility, which puts it in the same bracket as the general-purpose Graze frame that has become Gjallarhorn's mainstay.)

Speaking of mobile suit lines, the Hexa frame stands out for having different types designated using people's names: Hugo, Gilda and Enzo. A quick web search for the three names in conjunction returns the Argentinian film Una Cita con la vida, directed by Hugo del Carril, starring Gilda Lousek and Enzo Viena. I do not know if there is any connection there, out of fiction, but it struck me as an intriguing coincidence.

Then we have Teiwaz naming their mobile suits using romanised Japanese words: Hyakuren, Hyakuri, Rouei, Shiden, Hekija. Not much to say about that, since it fits exactly with their Japanese/Italian fusion mafia aesthetics. Although, I suppose we should shout out the Chief's bonkers suffixes. Lupus Rex? Rebake Full City? Jeepers.

Finally, I'd like to draw attention to how the Ariadne Network fits into all this, or rather how it doesn't. It's named for the myth of the Minotaur and how Ariadne gave Theseus a guiding thread to help map his way through the labyrinth. Fitting for a network of navigation beacons. However, as a piece of technology, it's an outlier, named for a Greek myth despite being under the control of Gjallarhorn.

The implication is that the Network predates both them and indeed the Calamity War, with the use of Ahab reactors in its construction being cited as a cause of said War, by virtue of preventing long-range communication and observation. Should we therefore take from this that pre-Calamity War devices follow a Greco-Roman naming convention ala the US space program? There are other Greek names used in the setting, specifically for the regions into which Mars is divided, following the actual real-world mapping of the Red Planet's geography, so I wouldn't want to rule out such a conclusion -- particularly with the way English is used in the setting. But on the other hand, it could simply be that the Network's function made this particular allusion irresistible.

Currency

There are two canonical currencies: the galar and the meria. As far as I can tell, the galar is exclusively mentioned in the context of Mars, and is therefore presumably related to Gjallarhorn's rule of the planet. Meanwhile the meria is used in the two spin-offs, Moon Steel and Urdr Hunt, both of which take place on or around space colonies. Whether this means the meria is primarily a space-based currency, or just a widely used currency in general is unclear.

Mostly I just think this is worth noting for the potential implications the galar has for Mars' situation: if the money in circulation there is directly controlled by Gjallarhorn, then that represents an added obstacle to independence. And given so much of Kudelia's efforts are focused on achieving greater economic freedom from Earth, it's an interesting detail to consider.

Oh, and apparently paper-like money is still in vogue in the Post-Disaster timeline. Which seems a bit odd, since paper itself is counted as a marker of wealth (explicitly stated in the translation of the CGS promo website linked from Gundam wiki; implied in the series by things like how we only ever see real books in the hands of the upper classes).

In Moon Steel, Tanto Tempo's members use paper files and documents, presumably because being part of an Earth-adjacent company, they can afford it. This makes me wonder about the source of the material. Do space colonies grow and recycle their own paper? Is that another layer to money's value in this setting? Or is the case made from some other material?

Food for thought, at least.

This excavator

Because first of all, it's an adorable piece of design work. And second, it's a rare example of non-mobile suit robotics in the setting.

Most Gundam shows have some sort of 'sub-mobile suit' category of mecha, be that a cruder precursor to the humanoid robot suits that are the mainstay of the franchise or a more utilitarian, often civilian variety of machine used for maintenance and construction work. Iron-Blooded Orphan's mobile workers are, however, mostly seen in military configurations, operating as small, extremely manoeuvrable tanks. I don't think it's too much of a stretch to classify them as mecha in their own right -- they have moveable 'legs' and on the type Tekkadan uses at least, the cannons operate in an arm-like fashion. But overall, they are generally more tank-like than anything else. The only civilian use we see from them is as a flat-bed truck. Indeed, when construction work in the space colonies comes up, it is specifically mobile suits that are cited as being used.

This excavator, which shows up in the background of the main series and has very slightly more presence during the Urdr Hunt game, makes it clear there are in fact mobile worker-like machines with entirely non-military uses. The arms appear to articulate in ways that set it apart from a real-world excavator, suggesting it operates in a more human-like fashion than your average JCB, and the armatures holding it up resemble mobile workers, only in a more stable four-point layout than the otherwise ubiquitous tripod arrangement.

It's a nice touch, extending the sci fi conceits throughout the world-building. It also stands out because so many of the vehicles shown beyond the obligatory humanoid mecha are simply . . . mundane. The cars, trains and even the fighter jets are little different than those we'd see around us today. Having something like this show up helps avoid the sense of the mobile suits being fantastical devices with no connection to the rest of the technological landscape, and gestures at mobile workers having uses that would earn them that name.

Gjallarhorn's plastic macs

I just love how utterly dorky the official rain-wear is.

McGillis very much doing the 'dignity, always dignity' bit, there.