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jheseltheunswerving · 1 year

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Rayla: How Selflessness Becomes Selfish

I had every intention of writing this before season 4 came out. Unfortunately, school and life got in the way, and I just didn’t have the time. However, I am writing this without having seen season 4, so please keep all spoilers out of the comments and reblogs.

Rayla is one of many people’s favorite characters. She’s cool, she’s beautiful, and she has a Scottish accent. But I wanted to get deeper into her character.

Morals and Responsibility

Throughout the show, Rayla is shown to be a protector, a fact that contradicts her training as an assassin. Even still, her being a protector is greatly influenced by her Moonshadow Elf ideals.

The Moonshadow elves and their ideals are introduced early on in the show where we see a group of them making essentially a bloodpact to avenge the death of the dragon king and his son. The planned assassinations of Harrow and Ezran are not only believed to be deserved but also believed to be vital to achieving justice. As Runaan eloquently puts it, “Life is precious. We take it, but we do not take it lightly.”

This is a moral that Rayla displays. She will only take a life if she feels it is necessary or deserved. Hence why she spares Marcos’ life in the very start of the show. It isn’t until she meets Callum, and he points out the revenge cycle, that these morals begin to be… altered.

As soon as the egg of the dragon prince is discovered, Rayla commits herself to defending Callum and Ezran. She smiles at Ez and offers to go back into the tower with Callum to stop her people from killing his and Ez’s father.

Rayla assumes the actions of her peers are her responsibility. When she first tells Callum and Ezran about her parents, she says she’s so ashamed, and feels her journey to return the egg to the dragon queen as one of redemption. In other words, Rayla feels she needs to redeem herself because of her parents' alleged betrayal.

She assumes this kind of second-hand responsibility from the other assassins as well. Throughout season 1 and well into season 2, Rayla is incapable of telling the boys what happened to their father. Even when Rayla asserts, “I didn’t kill anyone!” Corvus’ words illustrate exactly what she believes:

“Your leader did! What’s the difference?”

The difference is Rayla tried to stop him. She tried to get Runaan to call off the mission, and he wouldn’t listen. Now King Harrow is dead, and Rayla cannot bring herself to tell her new friends.

And this actually becomes a problem later. More specifically, Rayla’s morals become a problem. Although she can’t find the strength to tell Callum and Ezran the truth, she still needs them to trust her. She offers to carry the egg, but when she realizes giving it to her would be a gesture of trust, she can’t let herself take it. She refuses to accept the boys’ trust until she’s told the truth. Even Callum tells her, “You don’t need to do this right now, Rayla.”

“Yes, I do,” she asserts.

No, you don’t. Wait until you’re in a safer place.

But she can’t. She has to do what “the right thing” in her mind is before she can, and it nearly costs them everything.

This comes back to haunt her at the end of the first season. The guilt of dropping the egg is weighing on Rayla and she will not let herself believe it was anyone’s fault but her own, even though Callum was also arguing with her.

“I let you both down. I let the world down.”

Rayla has a lot of internalized guilt that she does not let herself let go. It might have been taught by her Moonshadow elf culture or it may have been something she learned on her own, but either way, it has shaped how she thinks of herself and how she handles situations.

Emotional Vulnerability

Like all characters, Rayla has moments of weakness. How she handles those moments is what differs her from other characters. The first true glimpse of this we get is after Callum told his aunt that Rayla is a bloodthirsty monster. Rayla says to Callum, “I can’t believe you’re such a jerk.” Her hood’s on, her back is turned, slouching away from the boys with her arms wrapped around her knees.

This kind of standoffish behavior is displayed in her again the very next episode where Rayla admits to being afraid of water. “I guess I was afraid of being afraid.” This is another example of how the Moonshadow elf ideology can be harmful. Rayla comes from a culture where weakness and vulnerability are things for which to be ashamed. A culture that ghosts their own people if there is even the slightest notion of that person having betrayed them — without any chance of explanation. Although she doesn’t know it, that is exactly what happened to her parents.

When she opens up about this, Callum tries to comfort her by putting a hand on her shoulder, but she pulls away. Rayla does not like to be touched when she feels vulnerable. This is a very interesting detail about her, especially as her and Callum’s relationship develops.

One of Rayla's main conflicts in season 1 and 2 is hesitation and struggling to do the right thing. She knows what she’s supposed to be and what she’s supposed to do, but it hasn’t felt right to her. And that causes her to doubt herself.

This becomes a problem during their trek up the Cursed Caldera. Rayla doubts her ability to carry out Callum’s plan. Even when she is successful in carrying it out, she’s already in a state of panic, so when thousands of tiny slugs start crawling up her body, she’s understandably shaken. In a moment of weakness and desperation, Rayla calls out for help. Callum uses Aspiro to blow away the tiny slug monsters, and she gives him a subtle angry look.

Rayla becomes defensive when she’s vulnerable. Her body language becomes closed off and she doesn’t speak as much. This is shown again after Rayla sees the illusion of the mummy turning to dust. She tells everyone, “There was no one there.” This may have been more to protect the kids than herself, as she admits to Callum in confidence what she saw. Interestingly, Callum doesn’t put a hand on her shoulder here, or try to reach out to her at all. He simply asks, “Are you okay?” and lets her open up. And she does. A little.

That’s the thing about Rayla. She doesn’t like being caught off her guard. If she’s going to open up, it’s gonna be on her terms. And this includes being touched.

Right before the Wonderstorm when Rayla is blaming herself for the egg’s fading, Ezran reaches out to her. “You tried, Rayla. You’re so good. And brave.” Here Rayla accepts Ezran’s hug. Though, there was a bit of warning in his approach, and he was also tearing up. This is another notable detail about her character. Although Rayla does not like being touched when she feels vulnerable, she does reach out to people she cares about when they’re the ones who are upset. She does it here with Ezran, and later after Callum finally finds out about Harrow, Rayla hugs him. Rayla is not devoid of empathy. She is capable of being there for people for support or as a shoulder to lean on. But she lacks foresight in how her own actions could affect her loved ones emotionally.

Still, Rayla does get better with being vulnerable in increments, particularly when it means helping Callum. At the end of season 2, she clings to him while he’s in his coma. She even goes as far as to nearly admit her feelings, only pulling away at the last second when he wakes up. But that isn’t the last time she’s vulnerable for him. She opens up again to Sol Regem, offering her hand to Callum and admitting she cannot finish their mission without him. However, what both of these scenes have in common is that Rayla is in control. Rayla is opening up on her own terms, no one is pressuring her to do it. It is not that Rayla is incapable of being vulnerable or opening up, it’s that she has to do it by her own choice.

And this is where hers and Callum’s love languages clash. Rayla hates being touched when she’s vulnerable, but it’s Callum’s instinct to reach out to her when she’s upset. The day after visiting the Silvergrove and finding out she’s been ghosted, Callum approaches her about how she must be feeling. But once again, Rayla keeps her back to him and says as little as possible — even denying that the previous day was difficult for her. When Callum pries and approaches her on the ambler, she snaps at him and insists that she’s fine. Finally, when he hears her crying in the oasis he reaches out to her again, only for her to smack him in the face with a pillow and run away.

And even when she tells him to leave her alone, that “she doesn’t want him to see her like this,” he still puts a hand on her shoulder. Of course, she immediately pulls away, once again shadowing that she does not like to be touched when she’s upset. To her, it’s like someone breaking through her armor.

Callum reaches out to her again, and again, she steps away. Neither of them are in the wrong here. Rayla does not like being touched when she’s upset, but it’s Callum’s instinct to comfort her the same way he’s been comforted in the past — with hugs and reassurance that he’s not alone.

Their love languages conflict because their upbringings do. Callum comes from a family that respects each others’ feelings and encourages free expression with games such as “big feelings time”. Rayla comes from a culture that denies fear and weakness and praises hardened hearts. And all those pent up feelings, at least in Rayla, manifest as anger and defensiveness. She closes herself off, she snaps at Callum. She acts like she is alone — like she has to deal with her feelings, alone.

By not letting the people who love her help her, she’s not only pushing them away, but she’s hurting them. When all they want to do is be there for her. It’s only when Callum snaps back and tells her to shut up that she allows him to talk. Callum has to talk her out of her hurt feelings before she finally lets him take her hands.

Of course, Rayla isn’t required to open up if she doesn’t want to. Callum simply isn’t used to that kind of behavior. Because of his family, he’s used to people being open and honest about their feelings. And he does slowly learn not to touch Rayla when she’s upset, but to let her come to him in her own time.

Where Selflessness Becomes Selfish

Rayla often puts herself in danger to save the lives of others. She runs out of the oasis into the Midnight Desert to save one of the mounts. She saves Nyx from the soulfangs, and she sacrifices herself to save Zym at the end of season 3.

But wait. Aren’t these all selfless acts? Well, yes they are, but they’re also selfish to the people who care about her. However, these may be excusably selfish. Obviously, saving the mount and Nyx were noble acts, and saving Zym was necessary. But there are times where Rayla is self-sacrificing for no reason.

Initially, Callum and Rayla planned for the group to leave the Storm Spire with Zym before Viren’s army arrived. Then Rayla said she was going to stay at the Spire to fight a hopeless battle by herself and die. And all she says to Callum after this reveal is “Goodbye”.

This is a scene that actually makes me angry. Rayla accuses Callum of “not knowing her at all”. Which is an extremely unfair thing for her today just days after he described her to Nyx as “selfless, strong and caring. She does what’s right even if it puts her own life in danger.” Callum loves Rayla, even if at this point he hadn’t said it yet. For her to suggest that he doesn’t know her is honestly a pretty selfish thing for her to do. And then — she runs away again. Just like she always does when her “armor” is breached, as if he touched her. And this is where that behavior is a problem, because she’s avoiding a conversation about a decision that affects Callum just as well as her.

That isn’t to say Callum was right in how he handled their argument, but understand where he is coming from. The girl he loves is willingly and pointlessly sacrificing herself for a hopeless battle and expecting him to be alright with that. And the last thing she was ever going to say to him was “Goodbye”. Her death would not have even served a purpose. She was going to throw her life away by herself for — as both her and Callum put it — “redemption”. A redemption that she didn’t need to earn, and even if she did, wouldn’t it be better to earn it through helping to protect Zym?

Rayla values certain ethics more than she values herself, and that turns into selfishness when it hurts people who care about her and she acts like it shouldn’t.

Again, though, these acts of self sacrifice are sometimes necessary. Rayla becoming the last dragon guard concludes her “honor” arc satisfyingly. She doesn’t do it out of cowardice. She isn’t trying to stay out of the heat of battle. She believes the enemy will make it up to the Spire and that she will have to defend Zym. And she’s right.

Sacrificing herself to save Zym was not unnecessary or selfish. It was a genuine act of self sacrifice for the greater good, and it is a testament to Rayla’s courage and heart. I do not believe she was thinking of herself or anyone else when she did it. Only of keeping Zym safe.

Unfortunately, that is not the end of the story. It continues in the canon graphic novel taking place between season 3 and 4. Rayla’s understandably upset about losing Runaan and her parents without fully knowing what happened to them. Callum reached out to her at first, before pulling his hand back. Once again, his instinct is to reach out to her, but he knows Rayla doesn’t work that way. If she’s going to open up about her feelings, it will be by her own volition.

So instead of reaching out to her or trying to convince her that her feelings are misplaced, he apologizes, saying he doesn’t like seeing her upset. And that little bit of space he gives works. She goes to him and leans on his shoulder, hugs him, and even agrees to try going on vacation.

Unfortunately, the supposed vacation does not work, and only further reminds Rayla of what is bothering her. She runs off from the group, still distressed about not knowing. Not knowing what happened to Viren, Runaan or her parents. The uncertainty is what’s troubling her.

She removes herself from the group and Callum follows her. Though to his credit, he does almost immediately offer to leave, and she’s the one who tells him to stay.

During their time alone, Rayla does open up a little about losing the people she loves. Then Callum makes the mistake of putting a hand on her arm while saying he knows how she feels.

I may be biased here, but Callum was once again valid in his argument. When Rayla snaps that he at least knows what happened to the people he’s lost, he says, “Yes, I know what happened to them! One of the people you’re so worried about killed my stepfather!”

His stance in the next panel tells me he’s been holding on to that one for a long time, but he didn’t want to say it because he knows Runaan is important to Rayla. It isn’t until she insinuates that she has it worse that he lets it out.

I’m not saying either one of them is in the wrong. Both of their feelings are valid. Rayla has every right to want to know what happened to her loved ones. But she shouldn't be taking that out on Callum. And it especially irks me that at the end of the argument, she accuses him of not having “moved on” from the tensions between humans and elves that are still very much a recent thing. A thing that has affected him personally, but he’s still able to look past that tension because he loves her. He loves Rayla, but she has a bad habit of forgetting that.

At the end of the graphic novel, Rayla leaves Callum to search for Viren — even after she promised him they would go together. This is the choice that inspired this analysis. She did it because she loves Callum and she did not want to risk losing him, but as we know from the clips for season 4, she’d be gone for two years.

This is where selflessness becomes selfish. For the entire book, Rayla’s been upset because of the not knowing. Then she did the same thing to Callum, without any forethought that it would make him feel exactly how she feels about losing her loved ones.

This is another example of how she forgets Callum loves her. Rayla does not understand her own worth. This results in selfless acts of self-sacrifice, but it also results in selfish acts of self-sacrifice. There comes a point where her actions are not only unnecessary, but harmful to the people who love her. It is a great example of character writing — using her greatest strength as her greatest flaw. But from an in-story perspective, Rayla needs to better put herself in the minds of others and gauge how her actions would affect them. Not thinking helped when it came to saving the dragon prince, but it was ultimately selfish when abandoning Callum.

#the dragon prince #dragon prince #rayla #rayla the dragon prince #rayla and callum #callum #callum the dragon prince #callum dragon prince #rayla dragon prince #analysis #character analysis #moonshadow elves

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ellekhen · 2 months

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Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 39 - To Be Born Anew

Chapter Summary: A harrowing situation leads to another complicated revelation for Church. The scouting party makes their way back to camp… and Church finds someone waiting for him.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 177K+ words; Chapters 39/54

Excerpt below:

“What did you all get up to while we were gone?” Church asks conversationally, working out some blood matted in his hair with a grimace.

“Oh, you know,” Astarion drawls, reaching over to help him with a disapproving hum. “Wyll got eaten by a dragon, Karlach went to finishing school, Shadowheart converted to a Selûnite, and I got betrothed to an Amnian merchant prince.”

“Knew I’d be missing all the fun,” Church grins at him, wading over to rinse underneath the waterfall. “…think that prince could use a concubine?”

Astarion throws his head back in a laugh, and when he looks at Church again it’s with an odd expression — something fond, soft…

…and curious.

“Hang on,” Astarion frowns as the tiefling returns. “You’ve got a little something on your…”

He reaches over to brush his thumb against the stinging skin of the tiefling’s forehead, and Church flinches away abruptly, self-consciously shielding his face.

“What’s wrong?” Astarion asks, taken aback.

Well, it wasn’t like he was going to be able to hide it, Church reminds himself. He lowers his hands sheepishly.

“Sorry, it’s just… I’m still getting used to it,” he laughs nervously. “Come take a closer look?”

He beckons Astarion towards him, his heart fluttering as the elf leans quite close to his face, scrutinizing him as those cool hands gently tilt his head to catch the burgeoning sunlight.

“Scales?” Astarion utters in surprise. “Those are new.”

“Yes, they are. So things got… dicey on the road,” Church wheedles.

This moment is so nice — the last thing he wants to do is trouble Astarion with the dramatic details. He doesn’t know how much he should share anyway with the rest of the crew. After all, there are things he hasn’t even disclosed to the companions that witnessed most of it to begin with.

And so, he lies.

“I had to call upon my mo — my patron. And, through a series of, er, events, I guess my body decided to go through second puberty and let the latent draconic bloodline awaken? That’s how she described it, anyway.”

Astarion looks at him, intrigued. “Draconic? Really?”

“I mean, you don’t see the family resemblance?” Church says dryly, gesturing at his horns. “But yes, here I am, a distant descendant of both a devil and a dragon.”

“Sounds like your ancestors had one hell of a night,” the elf smirks.

“Most likely,” Church grins at that. “Anyway, I was born with magic. My patron just taught me how to use it — hone it into something to help me survive pitchforks and diabolists. So it seems I’m somewhat of a latent sorcerer.”

He demonstrates with a little cantrip of dancing lights around his fingers.

“I feel more in tune with my magic than ever before,” he continues to reassure his companion with a half-lie. “I never realized that my head had been so… foggy before now.”

That part, at least, is true.

“The scales were an unfortunate side effect. They itch like hell, and…” he stammers, still feeling the elf’s hypnotic gaze penetrating into him. “They’re a little odd. I’m not sure how I feel—”

Astarion cradles Church’s jaw, pressing a lingering kiss to his sensitive temple.

“You’re beautiful,” the elf murmurs, pulling away.

Church feels his face heat as he looks slowly, fully up at the elf.

That felt different from Astarion’s typical indulgent flattery. This close, his eyes seem earnest. His breath catches a little — as if in quiet awe. They both wade close, naked, and vulnerable together in the spring — no airs of anything left between them.

No, you’re the beautiful one, Church thinks dully. Maybe he can blame the parasites for apparently turning his brain to sludge…

“You’re different, somehow,” he mutters instead after a moment. “What changed?”

He watches in amazement as Astarion slowly places his hand fully over the tiefling’s racing heart, long-lashed eyes closing for just a moment.

“I missed you,” Astarion confesses, voice breaking.

Read from the beginning!

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good-beans · 11 months

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hi beans!!! I saw your tags on my poll and I have to ask... Murder Swap AU for milgram??? 👀👀👀👀

I am very intrigued and I don't know if you've mentioned it somewhere before but I'd love to learn more about it if that's okay!! 💜

(also random side note thank u for ur lovely comments about my ocs they make me smile so much awawaaa okay bye--)

Ahhh yes!! ☺️Thanks for asking wahh, I didn't realize people would be curious ;-; Unfortunately it's not any kind of fully fleshed out au story or anything, just something that I have one post about and personally bounce around in my head a lot. It's a fun character exercise for me, seeing what's core to a character, what's a core to a crime, and the similarities/differences between the prisoners. It was supposed to have fun art for it, but somebody keeps putting it off *gives myself a pointed look*

The original post is here, though this has nudged me to make some updates! With their new videos, I now know more to modify Shidou/Mahiru's. It was necessary because of the ages, but I wasn't satisfied with Kotoko's, so I gave her another one here. And Kazui/Haruka's changed now that I have a clearer idea of Kazui's crime. (I know Cat isn't out yet but when I wrote the first post I thought Kazui's murder had been neglect-based -- he left his wife in the path of danger and wasn't there to help because they'd drifted apart. Now that I've looked deeper into his story I see it's different...)

Doctor Mahiru is very much the same, except this time she did start her family with her boyfriend/now husband -- she has the older daughter and younger son she always dreamed of. They're like a picture out of a magazine, or her romance novels. The perfect happy family. And then the accident strikes, and she has sixteen days to make a choice to save one of them by sacrificing another. She was also taking organs from patients prior to this, but saw everything through her painfully optimistic lens. She was saving lives. She was the perfect mother, perfect wife, perfect doctor. It isn't until she does the same to her own family that she realizes what a horrible act she's been committing.

Shidou is deeply and madly in love with his girlfriend he met when moving to the city, but he still has a tendency for deception and distraction. (He mentions in one of his questions that his wife takes charge with a lot of the care at home and he relies on her) in the au, he'd be equally reliant on her but always painting things perfectly. He twists truths and hides mistakes to convince her everything is perfect, even though she's struggling with her own pain and seeing the cracks in their relationship. He hears her mention suicidal thoughts, but buries them -- and any trace of negativity -- with grand stretched truths of how perfect everything is. He ignores the signs until it's too late.

(Half the fun is the aesthetic swapping, but I realized that Shidou's also works if he was still a doctor lol. He's so caught up in monitoring her physical health every time she complains of struggling, but doesn't take into account her mental strain. He treats her like a patient, only looking at physical symptoms, misleading her and himself about the reality of her emotions)

So yeah, I originally needed Kotoko to swap with Yuno since the other girls are too young (and Mahiru was already taken). Still, it felt weird removing her drive for justice, especially seeing how Harrow/Deep Cover hints that she lives for this purpose alone. I realized she could be cool to swap with Shidou -- and she protects the weak by saving everyone no matter the cost. She believes in her heart that the ends justify the means every time. She will be the fang for those who can't advocate for themselves, that's justice to her. I've seen some theories about lost family members as the wolves in her mv, so it would be those people in her "pack" that she kills/saves to make her second guess her work.

Haruka always had trouble expressing his emotions. Though his parents weren't outright abusive, they didn't know how to deal with any neurodivergence in their children, and couldn't help him when he had trouble communicating. They force him to take up theater in school to help him open up, but it only makes him better at acting and hiding his true self. He's awkward and shy, but found that lying could save him from many unwanted circumstances. He constantly lies to his sister as he grows more distant from his family. She discovers the shocking truth to one of these, leading to an emotional confrontation. After so much time bottling himself up, hiding behind masks, the only way he manages to communicate is in an explosive way, and the accident ensues.

And okay, I said it jokingly at first, but I actually think it'd work if Es and Jackalope swapped. The knowledgeable voice of the project is calm and serious. Es remains mysterious, and tells us to take our duty very seriously. But of course we haven't 100% done that -- an anime's fandom is definitely better portrayed by the cheeky rabbit willing to make judgements for whatever personal reasons come to mind first

#ahh thanks capri :D #its just a silly little thing but i was excited someone was curious aw!#its cool especially swapping the indirect/direct murders and seeing what could drive an indirect killer to actually take action #i had a specific vision on cheery doctor-coat mahiru whos also a lil fucked up behind the scenes- i just havent gotten around to drawing it #and religious aesthetic mikoto seems cliche but also im a sucker for that asdfsd #also bee fuuta !!#but yesss i thought your story was so cool! im so invested 👀👀👀#(i thought i was following your main too but im just dumb i guess sdfdsf)#thanks again pal :') this made me so happy today!#milgram #haruka sakurai #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #kotoko yuzuriha #ask #rose posts

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kelpeigh · 1 year

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Do you find taking care of Clydes much different? I love drafts but have never been around them much. I used to have to trim my standies' feathers cos he would get greasy heel all the time (he had allergies and dermatitis, so just the most shit skin barrier imaginable). How do their feeties hold up compared to the lil guys? I have heard trimmers talk somewhat about drafts being different... Just curious :) :)

They have their quirks for sure!

As far as taking care of them goes, you do need to approach and handle them a little differently. There’s really no muscling what you want out of them with brute strength. It takes a little more work to make yourself “bigger” than a moose-sized horse. That said, their reputation of being calm and gentle is well-met in my experience. The primary danger isn’t in them acting out of aggression or anxiety; it’s in them being goofy and clumsy and entirely unaware of their own strength. Imagine a 200lb mastiff trying to crawl into your lap. Now multiply its weight by ten and give it hooves. That’s a Clydesdale.

All the Clydes at our place are barefoot year round and their feet hold up great. Having a great farrier that’s well versed in draft horses makes a huge difference. He has 8 Belgians himself so he’s no stranger to handling big horses and any intricacies therein.

Our clydes need trimming less often than the light horses on the farm. I don’t know if that’s specific to our horses or the breed (or something about the ground here? It’s red clay. All hooves around here tend to get rock hard). Before coming to my current farm I worked with other draft breeds and they seemed to stick to a typical 6 week cycle. Our clydes go more like 8 between trims. Many draft horse owners find difficulty in finding a farrier that a) will trim draft horses at all, b) doesn’t charge like… double the normal rate for a trim*, and c) know what the hell they’re doing. Luckily our farrier only charges $40/horse, no matter the size.

The biggest difference in maintenance is the feathers for sure. They’re prone to infection since they act like a wick for any water on the ground, trap moisture, and make it hard to spot any open wounds or abrasions in the first place. Mites are a common problem for the breed, but we’ve been lucky so far. For maintenance, every so often we rinse them, wash with Dawn or Head & Shoulders, rinse again, then load em with sulphur. Liquid topical ivermectin is a godsend for most ailments. We just squirt it up in the feathers with a syringe.

CPL is an unfortunate condition to which draft horses are prone. It’s similar to elephantiasis. Our little senior rescue, Abby, has the beginnings of it. And speaking of feathers, Abby doesn’t tolerate her legs being sprayed or hosed. So in lieu of the normal routine we clip her feathers and slather a homebrew ointment of ivermectin, DMSO gel, and furasyn on her legs to keep her comfortable. It looks and smells terrible but it’s sufficed so far. That used to be harrowing work but she’s getting better and better about it as she continues to accept that we’re not trying to kill her.

*This is not to imply that farriers aren’t justified in charging extra for working with draft horses. They do require specialized knowledge. Draft horses, being overgrown lapdogs, also tend to make farriers support their weight, which is a big problem with 2,000lbs of horse. And as the “cold-blooded” variety, drafts tend to blow up less, but when they do lose their cool there is added danger due to their size and power. A lot of drafts end up getting their feet done in stocks for ease and safety. Ours don’t need stocks for the farrier, but we have stocks on site. They come in handy now and then.

#asks #answers #Clydesdales

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saikokirakira · 2 years

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Breaking the Curse (pt. 2 of 3)

word count: 6.1k (this one's a big boi)

a/n: okay, anyone still here? *echoes* no one? that's cool. i turned back on my word again and not only updated really late but still haven't finished this part of the story. i know all of you are just eager to see jake at this point.

i tried. really. had an outline and everything to get on track, but still managed to pull out 6k words. there isn't even a lot of moon bois here, but on the final part (FINAL I SWEAR), more moon bois. enough of my bullshit. lmao.

still, i managed to really love writing this massive boi. very heavy on philippine mythology here, and i definitely mixed each region deities on purpose. don't come at me for that.

Prev: Breaking the Curse (pt. 1) | AU Masterlist

warnings: ANGST; betrayal/stabbing people in the back (and front); violence/death; steven hate crime; marc needs a hug; non-canon Philippine mythology; non-canon depiction of babaylans (Filipino shamans); messed-up narcissistic gods; exposition in Bakunawa's mind palace; lost memories, memory loss

“Oh, God, there’s another one,” Marc groaned, while you pointed out, “There’s two of you?”

“Love!” Steven exclaimed and pulled you into his arms, completely ignoring the golden-eyed look standing right in front of him. Then he gripped your shoulder and pulled you at arms’ length. “Wait, if you’re on board the Duat, that means…”

“She died too, Steven,” Marc said, still eyeing Bakunawa cautiously. “You were supposed to keep the ushabti and Layla safe. Now, she’s likely to be going on a suicide mission.”

“Why are you blaming me?” you snapped back. “You’re the one who tried to fight off Harrow without the suit.”

“Uh, guys?”

“Not now, puppy,” you said off-handedly then turned back to Marc. “Besides, I healed your dead body, so once I break the curse, I can send you back.”

“Uh, guys…?”

“Steven, the adults are talking,” Marc once again shushed Steven without sparing him a glance. “That’s what Steven and I are doing,” he pointed at the scales that were swinging from end to end. “Besides, what can that snake do anyway?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “Bakunawa is a deity of the underworld,” you paused, glancing at the boat and the endless sea of sand off board. “Well, one of them anyway. I can get you back to the living, release him to his true form, and defeat Ammit if I break the curse.”

“Oh, because that’s definitely a piece of cake for you.”

“GUYS!”

“What?!” you and Marc chorused.

“Is that right?” Steven asked, pointing at the unnatural purple and golden sky. Somewhere far off, the golden patches started to glow brighter, sending off a rumbling noise. Well, shit.

“We’re running out of time. That’s not good,” you said, keeping the panic at bay.

“You know what that is?” Marc asked.

“First-generation gods,” Bakunawa sneered. “They know we’re here. We have to go now.”

“You think it’s them that did this?”

“No, but I know they’re not happy you’re trying to bring someone back to the living plane, including me,” Bakunawa cattily replied.

“We should all try to get back as quickly as possible then,” you said. You turned to Marc, tilting your head to the corner of the boat. “A word?”

Marc nodded and followed your lead while Steven gingerly stepped close to Bakunawa and tried to make small talk. “So… why do you have my face?” Unfortunately, his starter wasn’t strong and only made Bakunawa annoyed.

“I won’t be going back.”

It was definitely not what Marc expected because the shock was written all over his face. “But you just sa—”

“I know what I said,” you interrupted. “Summoning fallen deities are tricky. With Khonshu, he has the moon, but for beings like Ammit or Bakunawa… they need life, souls to be taken”

“You’re going to give him your body so he can reach his full form.”

“My body back there will be ripped apart by the transformation,” you said, “but… it’s the only way we have a shot defeating Harrow and Ammit. Bakunawa, you and Layla.”

“Do you think Steven should be the one to hear this?” Marc said.

You chuckled dryly. “He’s never going to let me do this. Besides, it’ll make goodbyes harder.”

“You’re not really giving him a chance to say it.”

“I know,” you said. “I’ve always been unfair to him, lied to him. I failed to protect him… and you. He deserves more than that.” Your eyes began stinging at the unshed tears pooling. “It’s too late anyway. I’m dead either way.” You quickly looked down to keep them out of Marc’s sight.

For the first time, Marc showed you comfort by cupping your face, lifting your head up. “Hey, hey,” he said. “We both failed. You shouldn’t beat yourself up for that.” His thumbs gently stroked away a couple of rogue tears that traitorously fell. “I’ve been hard on you. I’ve been unfair to you, and for what it’s worth, I see you.”

Behind tear-filled eyes, you stared up at Marc. Those last three words, you didn’t expect. It was true that he was hard on you, but you understood it as him being overly protective of Steven. You never blamed him for it. There was a tremendous amount of pain he was trying to hide from Steven – and even Layla – and you understood that, also lived by that.

It was those last three words that you truly understood Marc’s feelings for you. He wasn’t cross with you because he thought you were a danger to Steven — well, for the most part. Marc saw parts of himself in you. You both saw Steven as a reminder of your innocence, of what left was good in you, as someone you wanted to fiercely protect. While he couldn’t redeem himself what he done in his past, he wanted you to be at peace with yourself.

Anguish, love, regret, sadness – you saw it all and more in Marc’s eyes. This time, you held Marc’s face, finally seeing him beyond his rough-edged exterior, and he immediately leaned into your palms. You may not know what demons he has been facing, but the pain was all too familiar.

“I wish it was different,” you said, pulling him down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. Then on the crease between his furrowed brows, on the tip of his nose, before finally on his lips. Just a brief one but enough to make Marc sigh into your mouth, grab at your waist.

“Take care of Steven for me. Be happy. Patch things up with Layla, okay?” Reluctantly and almost painfully, you broke free from Marc’s hold and ran to the doors back inside the Duat.

“Love!”

You halted in your steps and looked back at Steven, looking scared and lost. You did that. Your bottom lip quivered at the thought of having to break his heart again. “Bye, Steven,” you said with a heart-wrenching smile before stepping through the doors.

The doors shut behind you and sent you in the middle of the woods again, only this time it was in the middle of the night with the full moon as your only source of light. You carefully treaded through towering balete trees and thick shrubbery trying to make sense of where you were going. Somehow, the trail was familiar, but the greenery was also different, much healthier, much more alive.

“Bakunawa!” you called out. You turned around to see the door you came from was now gone, and the deity didn’t seem to have followed you on your impulsive walk-out. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m going.”

As soon as you grumbled, your foot sank in a little stream. There was water nearby. Since you didn’t have much of a choice, you followed the water to wherever it may take you rather than walking around in circles in the woods.

At the edge of the tree line, you found yourself at the edge of a large body of water of two distinct shades – an estuary. A man was standing in the middle of the water basking himself in the moonlight. It was an ethereal sight.

The man didn’t look human. His long black hair was half submerged in the water, tinting it black as it flowed along the stream. The golden-lined teal robes he wore almost felt one with the water, yet the moonlight reflected off the material like iridescent scales. Finally, when he opened his eyes to follow a rustling sound from the other edge of the tree line, you almost gasped at the glowing serpentine eyes, golden as the threads on his robe.

It was Bakunawa, and you were in his memories.

Suddenly, a sharp whipping noise tore through the quiet wind, and an arrow struck Bakunawa through the shoulder. A loud monstrous scream broke out of his lips as he dove back into the water. A hooded archer from where you heard the noise ran to the shoreline, loading their bow again and aiming for the rippling of the water.

But the ripples calmed, and the water stilled.

Just like the calm before a storm, a loud splash burst out from the deep water and out emerged Bakunawa in his true dragon form. He was pissed. Definitely pissed. The archer wasn’t helping either as they continued to shoot at their deity, who now was soaring through the night sky and evading each arrow.

Bakunawa peaked from the sky, halted, before diving straight down, aiming for the archer. The offender decided to make a run for it but only made a few yards away from the tree-line. Bakunawa landed on the archer, pinning them to the ground with a giant claw.

“Foolish mortal,” Bakunawa spat out. “Why on earth do you try to take down a deity with no magic to defend yourself?” With his other claw, he crushed the bow that fell a few feet away from the archer during their attempted escape. “And you had to ruin my robes. Just when the night was so splendid.”

Realising that you weren’t going to be noticed, you stepped forward and out of hiding to get a closer look at Bakunawa and his attempted murderer. During their struggle, their cloak had come loose, and the hood fell away from their face. Gone was their ill-mannered attempt and was replaced with the panic of angering a deity. A man-eating one at that.

“Please,” a woman’s voice said. “I only wish to prove to my village that I am worthy despite being born without magic.”

Bakunawa scoffed, licking at his wounded shoulder before snarling at the woman. “And you thought a deity’s head would be a good idea instead of gaining a god’s blessing?”

“My prayers fall on deaf ears,” she said, almost spitefully. “They are left unanswered for years, while my younger sisters are abundantly blessed with magic.” Then she closed her eyes and laid back against the rocks, finally struggling no more. “You have already taken what has given me worth in my village,” she continued, referring to her now-crushed bow. “If you wish to devour me, I only ask you do it swiftly.”

Bakunawa opened his jaws, exposing rows of sharp teeth. He had seemed to show a sick enjoyment of the woman’s scared whimpers before he huffed and stepped away. “If you think your worth only lies on a measly little bow, you are a far pathetic hunter than I thought. Leave.”

The woman sat up, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She watched as Bakunawa curled his body in itself and continued to bask in the moonlight a few feet away from her but now rather uncomfortably. After a few seconds of collecting herself, the woman got to her feet and began picking up the broken pieces of her bow.

“Didn’t I just tell you to leave?!” Bakunawa snapped with an annoyed roar. “Leave it, and get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

The woman jumped and dropped the pieces from being startled. She pulled the hood over her head and began to run back into the woods. However, she stopped behind a tree and lingered for a moment, her eyes watching the snoozing dragon carefully.

“That’s when I first met her.”

You jumped when a voice spoke from behind you. “Jesus, Bakunawa,” you cursed, seeing him now in his human form instead of being a Steven impostor. “Where have you been?”

“Same as you, watching.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” you asked.

Bakunawa was silent before he began walking away.

“Hey! Wait!” you called out, almost tripping over a fallen branch. You were more impressed how he managed to walk gracefully along the forest without stepping over his flowy robes. You kept a light jog trying to catch up with his pace, and when you returned back to the shoreline, you only wished you could throttle him for dragging you along in a circle. “We’re back to the estuary,” you panted. “Why?”

“The forest trails work differently in my mind. Just like one cavern in yours lead to somewhere unexpected,” Bakunawa explained, carefully watching the sky. It was still a full-moon, but the stars have changed. It was a different time, another memory.

“I… can’t seem to remember what happened before I was bound to you,” he said.

“But you knew her.”

“Yes,” he replied. “Everything I see, I know it happened,” he said, touching his shoulder, the same spot where the archer hit him, “yet I can’t recall it ever happening as if knowing and happening are now two different things.”

“Who is she to you?”

A growl rumbled in his chest, and scales began to emerge from underneath the back of his hands, a similar sight as you did whenever you were about to transform. Then he calmed, soothing his own breathing. He let out a defeated breath when his memories failed to help him.

“Mayari.”

You and Bakunawa turned back to the memory unfolding at the shoreline. The familiar hooded figure emerged from the tree-line, but instead of ill-intent, she approached the human-formed Bakunawa with a girlish demeanor. “You know who I am,” she said, smiling impishly.

“You have been coming to my resting place for days now.”

Mayari shrugged. “It’s close to my traps, and you gave me the good suggestion that I should gain the favour of a deity instead of resorting to murder,” she continued, “but I guess you can only come out during the full-moon.”

Bakunawa’s annoyed mask fell and an amused smirk graced his serpentine features. “A fellow god helps with the tides and opens the door for me to slip into this realm,” he explained briefly. “The full-moon gives him more power during this time.”

“Do you have powers?” Mayari asked, then smiling sheepishly when Bakunawa flashed her an offended look. “Other than turning into a beast, of course.”

Bakunawa hummed in thought. “If you sing for me, I’ll show you a trick.”

“Sing? A song?”

“Music and any beautiful sounds are my joy,” Bakunawa stated proudly. While waiting for her to sing, Bakunawa waded in the water and basked himself under the moonlight again. It was as if he bathed in the moonlight rather than the water itself.

Mayari followed him but stopped at where the sand met the water. She carefully removed her footwear before submerging her feet in the wet sand. She cleared her throat before humming what you recognized as a lullaby. It had no words, but the melody you knew by heart.

It was the lullaby your mothers sang to you.

The same lullaby Yatzil sang to calm Bakunawa back in Cairo.

At the end of Mayari’s song, a soft calmed smile was present on Bakunawa’s lips. He had other mortals sing songs to him over the centuries to gain favours from him. Yet, he appreciated the sincerity of this particular mortal, even though she was also trying to earn some kind of blessing. Also, it wasn’t that often that mortals placed aside their fear and had the audacity to shoot at him with a tiny arrow.

“Follow me.”

Mayari looked apprehensive at the deity’s offer. There was no light, and even at a low tide, the water was still deep and terribly cold. Even if she took his hand, he could pull her down to drown and be devoured.

As if sensing all her worries, the water that only reached her ankles receded, and soon the rest of the water parted to form a path. The brisk night wind slowed to a gentle breeze and brought in a light posse of fireflies. Further along the water where the bugs couldn’t reach, the dark menacing water sparkled from a group of bioluminescent algae.

It was truly a sight to behold, and you thought it was something you heard in fairytales. You turned to the Bakunawa standing beside you and was surprised at the look on his face. Never before had you seen so much longing on the deity’s face before. Gone were his pride and bloodthirsty nature. All you saw was adoration and longing.

“You loved her,” you stated as a matter-of-fact, watching Mayari tentatively accept her Bakunawa’s hand and walk down the parted path he laid for her.

“That he did. What a fool…”

Both you and Bakunawa swiftly turned to the source of the voice. You were met with nothing but the balete trees. You could sense a presence there, but it was powerful enough to hide from you. Time was running out. You needed to find the god who did this and quick.

“Who was the god who let you slip through the realms?” you asked Bakunawa with urgency.

“Stupid girl, he already said who it was.”

You groaned in annoyance and whipped your head towards the trees again. “Who are you? Show yourself!” Your eyes focused on any slight movement on the trees, on every leaf, searching for anyone who was spying on you this entire time.

Snap.

Without hesitation, you burst into a sprint to the direction where you heard a twig snap. All you could see was bushes shaking and low branches swinging violently from the person avoiding you, but you have yet to see even a distinct shape to try and recognize who that was. A menacing laugh echoed through the wood as you felt the ground fall beneath you. You barely had time to catch yourself before you went tumbling down a steep hill.

You rolled down a few feet before your hand managed to grip a sapling to stop your fall. You grunted as you hoisted yourself back on your feet, panting from the wind knocked out of you. Damn it. You lost Bakunawa again, and you were most likely inside another memory.

“Are you okay being this far from the water?”

With the lack of choices on your hand, you followed Mayari’s voice instead and see what happens now. She had her hunting cloak on and was walking side by side with Bakunawa, still dressed in his teal and golden robes. In her hand was a different kind of bow, something that you have never seen before.

There was no doubt that Mayari received it as a gift from Bakunawa. It was metallic turquoise, a slight shade off from Bakunawa’s usual teal, but still obvious enough to know it was his. As you approached the pair, the bow had golden engraves of the moon cycle. A deity’s blessing.

“This island floats right above the estuary, and all these trees contain magic for all anitos. I can be summoned anywhere if needed be.”

“With your god friend’s permission,” Mayari added as a matter of fact.

Bakunawa nodded.

“What is it like in your realm? Is it up there? Or beneath the water?”

“You are quite the curious mortal, Mayari,” Bakunawa said with a sly smile. “I am forbidden to reveal such things by the gods, but… let’s just say that when your final breath is released, we shall once again meet in my realm through your kalag, your soul.”

You raised your brow at that. You knew that Bakunawa had ties to the underworld, but that narrows your guesses now to just two gods.

“Find anything?”

“Jesus!” you jumped again, your heart doing a complete somersault when your Bakunawa suddenly appeared behind you.

“Wrong deity, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

You looked at Bakunawa unimpressed. “Did you at least recognize the creep watching us?”

“No, but whoever it is knows about the curse. Be on your guard.”

“Can’t we just wait for the first-generation gods? Have an audience with them like the Ennead.”

Bakunawa stared at you as if you had complete lost your head. “That family has no time to listen to the accounts from a lesser deity such as myself as much as that wounds my pride,” he said. “Vain, self-important bastards, the lot of them.”

“Like you’re the one to talk,” you rolled your eyes at them.

“Trust me, child, you haven’t met a god until you met Kaptan or his family.”

“You think the god of all gods did this?”

“No, but I’m sure he is complacent about this whole ordeal.”

“’Vain, self-important?’ You hurt my feelings, old friend.” A voice whispered through the wind.

Someone was definitely out there toying with you, and you didn’t have time for it. People were dying by the second, and you were still stuck with figuring out this curse. You didn’t know if your powers worked in Bakunawa’s mind palace, but you were sick of playing along with their games.

“Show yourself. Come out!”

Suddenly, it felt like everything stilled. The wind was silent, and even the wildlife in the forest cease to make noises. The only sound that was heard were the crunching of your feet on the ground as you carefully stepped back closer to Bakunawa.

“Please… don’t hurt me.”

What the…?

“Bakunawa, why is there a child here?”

The child looked no more than ten, and there was no doubt that this child was not of this world either. His silver-white hair contrasted with his warm brown skin, paired with a set of golden eyes that shined with a richer luster than Bakunawa’s. He was clothed in traditional Filipino loincloth, but the material was almost sparkling white lined with gold that flowed like moonlight even under the morning light.

“How did you get here?” you asked, sensing uneasiness the longer you were with this unknown child.

“I’m scared,” he whimpered.

Bakunawa took a hesitant step forward to approach the child, but you reached out for the sleeve of his robe to stop him. Instead, you spoke, your voice seeping with magic, “Come forward, child.”

The child stopped his pitiful noises and looked straight at Bakunawa, ignoring your magic and presence overall. “I can’t move,” he said, his words almost seeming like a challenge than words of helplessness. “Please come closer.”

“Don’t,” you whispered to the deity. “We don’t what he is.”

“He’s a child,” Bakunawa stated the obvious.

“And you just said to be on our guard,” you reminded him. “My magic isn’t working on the child, and you’re cursed.”

“Maybe magic doesn’t exist here.”

Out of blue, the child stomped his foot like he was pulling a tantrum for being ignored even for a few seconds. “Both of you are no fun,” he pouted.

“Who are you?” Bakunawa asked, and his question only seemed to irk the child even more.

“You seriously don’t remember me?” the child spat out, now slowly approaching us. The menacing and spiteful look in his eyes were enough warning signals for you and Bakunawa take steps back to every step forward he took. “I guess that curse really did a number on you.”

“Wha—”

“Shut up!” the child snapped at you. His voice alone sent a blast of sharp wind on you. You reached for your cheek, and when you drew back your hand, your fingertips were streaked with blood. “I should destroy you for even trying to use your inferior magic towards a god.”

Then the child looked up at the morning sky as if the sunlight was a mere inconvenience to him. “Let’s change things up, shall we?” he tutted. With a wave of his hand, the sun quickly set and was replaced by the moon, and when you laid your eyes back on him, it was as if the child grew older by a decade.

“Mm, much better, is it not?” the god hummed, running his slender fingers on the fabric of his vest.

“Libulan,” was the only name that left your lips.

The god smiled smugly, looking impressed but only felt condescending for you. “So, you aren’t totally stupid,” he said. “What gave it away other than it being obvious?”

“But why?” You tried to ask before Bakunawa cut you off. “You were the one helping me pass through realms. You took me here and brought me back.”

“That, I did,” Libulan confirmed, a haughty laugh escaping him. “You’d be surprised how amusing it was seeing you struggle in the mortal realm for centuries. It’s like watching a headless chicken running loose in a labyrinth.”

You sneered at him, something that the god didn’t take lightly. Bakunawa was not joking. This particular god had an insane ego. “You could’ve just left the door closed and left him here. Why curse him?”

Libulan’s face turned even more sour the moment you spoke to him. “Lower deities are mere playthings to gods as much as mortals are,” he said. “But,” he continued, “my mother thought otherwise. Always fascinated with pretty things, that one.”

“Does the goddess of the sea know that her son is a little psychopath?” Bakunawa asked off-handedly, aware that his aloofness would piss off Libulan more than any spiteful tone.

Except the moon god only smiled bitterly. “Okay,” he clapped, “since I’m feeling generous, I’ll throw you a bone… a fish? Were you a dragon or a snake? I can’t remember.”

You rolled your eyes, and yet, you had no choice but to play along. Your best and only option was to let this asshole gloat and gloat until you can catch him off-guard.

“I’ll grant you your memories back,” Libulan declared, the sinister smile still plastered on his beautiful face. “I admit, casting away your memories were a little overkill from those witches I blessed to take you out.” He approached Bakunawa, who shielded you from the mad god by pulling you behind him.

The protective gesture was not left unnoticed by Libulan. The god sneered and gripped the Bakunawa’s face. “You are going to enjoy this, brother.” Wisps of moonlight began seeping from the god’s fingertips as his eyes glowed white, similar to Marc and Steven when they were wearing Khonshu’s ceremonial armor.

The moment Libulan let go, Bakunawa fell to the ground like a stack of bricks. It only took a few seconds for him to recover and get back on his feet. “Me… You… We grew up as brothers,” he said, his voice wavering from the bombarding wave of returning memories. “I cared for you.”

Libulan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And yet, you betrayed me!” he shouted, sending gusts of wind blowing from every direction. “You were willing to stay here for your disgusting mortal who didn’t even have magic! You were going to leave me!” The wind grew stronger as his voice rose to a crescendo from every word.

All of his calm, menacing demeanor was now replaced with pure unadulterated rage.

“So, you blessed Mayari’s sisters to destroy me?”

“Wasn’t the first time I did it, and it won’t be the last.” Libulan conjured out a weapon, a spear that resembled closely to Khonshu’s crescent moon staff but slimmer and was bladed on both ends. With undeniable grace and ease, he struck down Bakunawa with the flat side of the blade. “You underestimate the greed of these humans. You didn’t even realise that your favour towards Mayari sowed discord in her family. If we’re being honest here, this whole thing was your fault.

“I’m sure your pathetic little host understands that better than you do,” he laughed at you. “Your village elders were so willing to accept my blessing just to put a little handicap on you,” he said, referring to Bakunawa unconscious on the ground. “Pity they tried to go against my back. When I told them to kill you with Bakunawa inside you, they tried to take all your powers instead. They had to go. All of them.”

Libulan aimed the spear at you. “That includes you.” Then he scoffed distastefully, “Oh, please, there’s no need for the scared doe-eyed look. Did you really think you and a fallen deity could defeat a god?” His eyes glowed white again as you felt the air leaving your lungs. “Think of it this way. I’m just cleaning house. That includes you. It was fun watching Bakunawa for the first few hundred years, but you,” he spat. “You just had to stick your nose on things that aren’t yours, just like that mortal Mayari.”

The moment Mayari’s name left Libulan’s lips, Bakunawa’s taloned hand shot up and grabbed the spear, pulling it out of the god’s grasp when he was unguarded. “Enough.” Bakunawa rose to his feet, his hands still gripped firm on the spear. He didn’t look angry or upset at his brother.

Bakunawa looked weary.

“Haven’t you done enough? You’ve killed people, destroyed families, tempted them through their greed. You were supposed to protect them.”

There was nothing else you could do but stare as they both straightened up for a fight. It was over. There was no way you or Bakunawa can win against a god who was powered by his wrath. All Bakunawa could do was prolong what time you had left before Libulan would strike both of you down and destroy your souls, leaving you far, far away from eternal peace.

The only way to defeat a god… was to summon another god.

You panicked at the thought. There was no way to ensure that whoever you’ll summon would be a friend, but with each passing second, Libulan grew closer to gaining back his weapon, overpowering Bakunawa who was barely standing his ground. You didn’t even have anything to call out a god in the afterlife.

Unless you called a god who was already here.

“Taweret!”

In an instant, you fell through a door and found yourself back on the deck of the Duat. The hippo goddess peered down at you from where you were lying on the floor and waved. “That didn’t go well as planned, was it?”

You jumped to your feet. “Steven,” you said. “Where’s Steven and Marc?”

“Oh, dear, you’ve missed a lot,” Taweret chirped. “They’re back. Back to the living realm. You certainly made it easier by healing his body before you followed. Smart one, aren’t you?”

“Not that smart, I suppose,” you muttered mostly to yourself. “I left Bakunawa in there to fight a crazy god.” You stared at the doors leading back inside the Duat.

“Mhmm, he's barely holding on. I see everything that happens in my boat,” Taweret informed you, “but unfortunately, as much as I want to help you, I cannot fight deities from other realms.” With a remorseful tone, she continued, “I can give aid to them, but I can never directly harm them. It’s kind of an unspoken rule between us gods.”

“Then you know other gods who can. Gods from his realm,” you said, unable to stop thumping your foot against the wooden floorboards from the raw urgency flowing through your veins. “Please, Taweret, I don’t have much time.”

“There is one. A god from the underworld realm,” Taweret trailed off. “It was quite the scandal, and quite the subject of gossip even for gods in other realms.”

“Yes?” Your foot never ceased its incessant tapping and only increased rapidly as the goddess fell into a tangent of gossip.

“I don’t know if he would come. Details come fuzzy as they travel through realms, like a bad game of telephone. Last time I heard he was sleeping inside a mountain.”

“A mou— you just told me he’s a god of the underworld.”

“Yes, well, he’s quite fascinated with you mortals as well, albeit quieter and tends to keep to himself. So, he keeps himself near his own little portal.” Suddenly, her face looked very distracted. You stared at her for a brief moment until she snapped back. “Oh, dear,” she said without leaving room for context. “My dear, I can try to summon him, but he wants to keep hidden… Well, Layla needs my help.”

“Wait, are you bailing on me?”

“Ta-ta!”

What the fuck just happened?

You heard rustling from the corner of the boat, catching your attention. When you turned to look, you found out that your situation was about to get worse. You sighed and grabbed a wooden plank from a corner, ready to bash in some sand zombies.

You were definitely fucked, but you weren’t going without a fight.

“I’ve been possessed, shot, and beat up by a manchild god,” you spat out, gripping the narrow plank tight between your hands. “Try me because I am so fucking pissed right now.”

“As expected of Bakunawa’s host.”

The zombies slowed in their steps and titled their disfigured bodies down, almost like a bow. However, you turned to whoever was behind you and began poking at their chest with your wooden weapon.

“I am so sick with you gods just appearing out of nowhere from behind,” you complained, more exasperated than angry. “Can’t you just face us right ahead? Is this some kind of complex I don’t know about?”

Finally getting all of your frustrations out, you looked up and paled at the god in front of you. Dressed in black lined with deep dark gold loincloth, the god’s body made out of wood, a mix of dark and red wood with notches all over him that could easily be mistaken for scratches or scars. Standing three heads taller than you, he looked down on your short figure while you tried to decipher what he was thinking when his face was nothing but an empty wooden mask with glowing purple eyes.

However, you couldn’t even call him plain. No, not with those wooden horns that almost seem to fan out like branches. Each branch was different and never the same, one had spiked ends, the other had the tiniest of green leaves, while another had delicate flowers.

The groaning from the sand zombies caught your attention again, and you gripped your plank defensively in case they would try and approach you again.

“Leave.”

At the god’s command, the zombies collapsed into a pile of sand, but before they could hit the wooden floor, the sand dispersed into a kaleidoscope of black butterflies. An eerie but beautiful sight.

It also told you everything you needed to know about the god. Ten horns, the notches that signified the life of each mortal, the butterflies. You knew exactly who he was.

“Sidapa, god of death.”

“Indeed,” Sidapa said, gesturing to the notches on his body. He gestured to a particular notch on his chest. “You went far too early, I see, and strayed over to the Egyptian gods’ afterlife. Odd.” He continued, “So, why did Taweret summon me to the Duat? To give you another chance? Bring you to our afterlife?”

“I want you to help me free Bakunawa’s curse.”

Sidapa’s face grew grim for a moment as he took in my request. “What can you offer me to face Libulan again?”

“’Again’?” you echoed. “So, you know about the curse? About Libulan being…?”

“The moon god has a fascination with gods and deities associated with death,” Sidapa explained. “When he isn’t the center of attention… well, look what he did to me.” He gestured to himself.

“You’re… cursed too?” you asked carefully.

“Not necessarily.” Sipada looked away. “I didn’t use to be associated with death.” Then he shook his head as if trying to break free from painful memories. “But that’s a story for another day,” he said. “Right now, I know you need my help. Not for me, but for… whatever is going up there.”

“I thought gods from other realms aren’t supposed to meddle in other gods’ business.”

“You’re the one borrowing my blessing, child,” Sidapa pointed out. “I should be asking you if you’re prepared for the possible consequences of your actions.”

“I have no choice,” you shrugged, trying not to look as terrified as you felt. “Steven is out there and needs my help. Ammit is out there killing innocents by the thousands. Bakunawa needs me; he needs peace for what Libulan did to him.”

“And you understand what you’re giving up to free him? You will be destroyed, body and soul,” he reiterated. “I can offer you Paradise right now. You have suffered enough on a childish fight between gods.”

You hesitated for a moment. Sidapa was already here, offering you an out. You wondered if Taweret knew about the dilemma of what you were about to face, if she was aware of what you really wanted. After all these years, you desperately wanted peace. You didn’t even know what it felt like, and now, you have the chance to take it.

“I see you.”

And yet… it wouldn’t be fair to them. To Steven, to Marc, to Layla, to Bakunawa. To your beloved mothers.

“Take my soul. Bakunawa can have my physical body once he’s free.”

A kaleidoscope of black butterflies swallowed you whole until everything else was dark.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader #moon knight x reader #bakunawa!reader #bakunawa au #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic

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dearmahiru · 1 year

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I am not a Kotoko theorist but I know her fans are dwindling and even if I'm reaching I wanna keep up some hype for her. The RGBkoto theory is super interesting so I wanted to see if I could find any fun color stuff with Kotoko! Prisoner parallels and all that stuff. I'm mostly just flashing a light at interesting color stuff I've noticed but if this prompts anyone to look further into Kotoko I'll be happy!

For a brief explanation, the RGBkoto theory is that, instead of one alter, Mikoto has two alters with green as the host. This is why MeMe is split between the colors red, blue, and green (Here's this post if you'd like to read about it more!)

One of the parellels between the KotoKoto duo is the theme of duality. In Harrow, Kotoko mostly sees things in black and white. For the most part, her reaccuring colors are: red, blue, green, and yellow/orange. We see this immediately with the opening shot of Harrow and it continues throughout her MV.

This color scheme happens again when Kotoko researches through various articles:

The inclusion of orange in the RGB color scheme interests me because it's distinctly the color of of the girl she's saving. Not quite sure about the yellow though...

Throughout the MV, Kotoko wears two different jackets: a red one with white stripes and a blue one with a yellow stripe. This implies two different timelines, fitting the duality aspect. (The red jacket outfit isn't her forest outfit because the clothes underneath are different.) Both time Kotoko steps someone her shoes are green.

Kotoko finds the warehouse twice, one time without the car and with the car. During the second time, when Kotoko enters the warehouse, she suddenly switches to her red outfit. Despite this, there's a hat on the floor...?

Finally, not something about colors but there's three different girls in Kotoko's MV! The first two seem to be connected in some fashion aswell?

I'm really excited for Undercover! Even though she's unfortunately going to be guilty for what she did to the prisoners, I'm really interested in receiving more information about her story. She's so cool 💜

#dni if you're going to reblog with Kotoko hate this post isn't for you #I didnt mention it but all the “bad guys” who appear in Kotoko's mv wear black/white or gray #and her clothing / forest / wolves are all black and white aside from the pop of color #Can you tell I slowed down Harrow by 0.25 to catch some of these #You should do that btw. Go back and rewatch Harrow! The song is great!#Milgram #Kotoko Yuzuriha #꒰ 🕊 ꒱ ── cinnamon lead astray

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frociaggine · 1 year

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What happens to the souls of the lyctors’ cavaliers? I mean I bet they can’t eat them actually. Muir is so into Catholicism in the locked tomb, and you can’t just change the fact that the souls are immortal. Plus Pyrrha is alive and so is Gideon. And the souls don’t go to the River. So whats up with that?

(SORRY I had this in my inbox for days unfortunately. weekdays deadlines)

I think the souls remain within the Lyctors! They are the battery powering their adepts, though presumably, the cavaliers don't have any consciousness left, and when Lyctors go with their souls into the River, the body is animated just by the reflexes of their cavaliers. (Though I don't think this was the case for Pyrrha?)

I wonder a lot about what happens to the souls of cavaliers after the death of their Lyctors, though. Palamedes and Camilla seems pretty convinced that their soul gestalt won't be unmade in the River (I wouldn't take it as an absolute certainty. But it's very possible IMO). I also don't think John and Alecto can ever be disentangled from each other, but they both maintain most of their separate identities. For something like Teacher - were the multiple souls separated when he died? The Lyctors/cav soul consumption is yet another different thing and I don't see why it shouldn't unravel from the soul of the Lyctor, though it would fit with the themes of the series if part of the price of Lyctorhood included that the cav's soul went... somewhere else.

Also fwiw, Abigail Pent talks about summoning a Lyctor from scraps she'd found in Canaan House and she too has absolutely no idea what happens.

But I think that if summoning a Lyctor's soul from the River was possible, it might have come up because there's no way Augustine hadn't tried it. (Probably not Ulysses or Cassiopeia who died in a different dimensional plane but like. Cyrus might have been doable)

Anyway; sorry for going on such a tangent, I just have A Lot of very vague thoughts about anything dealing with souls in TLT. We know Harrow still carries those 200 souls within her, and it's also possible that John may have done something similar by using souls as a source when introducing necromancy after the resurrection (I'm not sold on this for Reasons but it could be the case). So many souls that are used as building blocks for something or another... I'm dying to know what happens to them.

(Also. I'm going to casually @monstrousgourmandizingcats just to ask... do you have any insight on the theological references behind all the soul stuff? My only contribution is that I saw someone compare Ianthe eating unwilling Babs vs. other Lyctors eating willing cavaliers' souls to someone taking communion without having confessed and I thought "oh cool" and then forgot everything about it)

#tony-buddenbrook #ask #tlt thoughts #tlt meta #tlt #i don't think any of the influences behind the series is THE only predictor behind any given theory #be it christianity greek mythology literature etc.#BUT. some crumbs are there! i'm not twisted enough to pick it all up but it's Fun

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can-you-let-me-take-a-nap · 2 years

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Flower Amongst The Waves | ༄

♡ 。Childe x Reader x Yelan

Warnings: Dub-con, spanking, bondage, interrogation, degrading, praise, good cop bad cop, reader is Traveller, gender-neutral reader, they/them, mentions of blindfolding, mentions of lingerie, mentions of other characters, name calling (reader is called a slut),reader is caught in 4k (both literally and figuratively as the word count is 4k)

.｡..｡.:*･Venom, you say? But I think you’re the one intoxicating me…･*:.｡. .｡.:

Cool metal envelops your wrists, cool as the lakes in Mount Aocang. It acts as a source of relief from the harrowing heat of adrenaline engulfing your body. The handcuffs force your hands above your head and chains dangle from the ceiling. The room is void of light and no matter how much you try to let escape the tiniest bit of elemental energy, not even a hushed grumble of geo, a faint whisper of ameno, nor a confined crackle of electro escape any part of your being. You note that the ground and the room have been heated very slightly, warming your legs sprawled in a disorganised fashion. An anomaly. This room void of light, proper windows and people, is a room intended for torture. You’d know, the Kujou Commission’s domain making sure to teach you this very lesson as you and Yoimiya went off to fight the Fatui.

Wait, the Fatui..?

You spot the crimson insignia imprinted on the door handle, looking awfully like an empty gun barrel, through the sliver of azure tinted moonlight that creeps through the barred windows, blacked out by wiring. Although the blazing torment of humiliation licks at you, hope swells in your chest knowing that Tartaglia will free you from this unfortunate predicament.

Speak of the devil.

A rattle of a doorknob. The creak of a jail cell. The gentle jingle of an earring against fabric. The clacking of a pair of heels.

No, two pairs of heels.

In your vision, swims not one, but two figures. A flick of a switch and the room is dimly lit, and you allow your eyes to fixate on the bodies looming over your own.

“Comrade, I must say I’m thoroughly disappointed.” A saccharine voice matches an equally saccharine grin, “Stealing from Northland Bank and caught red-handed just a week later? I thought you fought a god?”

What..?

“N-no, Tartaglia, you’ve got the wrong person. It really wasn’t me. I have no use for money, you know that! The Kamisato Clan paid me favourably, and Beidou gave me a share of the loot we got to keep when defeating treasure hoarders by the coasts of Inazuma. I still have most of the money you gave me when Teucer snuck into Liyue!”

Cool yet wild blue eyes look you up and down, and your ears heat up as you look up at him from your knees. Your gaze flickers to the side of the room to remedy the sheer embarrassment of his unhinged gaze, yet you are met with feline eyes, the iridescent hue like the depths of a tropical sea. They glow in the dark briefly and buzz with an emotion that you can’t put your finger on.

“Miss, do you think we ought to deal with the Traveller?” The redhead’s voice is tinted with a sense of playful sadism as his gaze burns you even further.

The woman in question has a catlike grin blooming on her face as an idea visibly pops into her head. Her pinky-purple lips glisten in the light. “I have heard how Fatui deals with liars, though I’m sure this one is luckier than the others.” The harsh fragrance of leather and a hint of orchid wafts around you as she inspects your petrified visage, her predatory expression tells you that you are the mouse to this catlike woman: “I believe that this one should leave alive, yet not unscathed.”

A gentle yet dangerous chuckle echoes in the prison cell, “Don’t look like that, Traveller. We won’t kill you, but we will enjoy the thrill of finally hunting you down.” The words he utters are laced with an emotion heavier, muskier than bloodlust. You’ve fought and sparred with him many times, you know what he sounds like when he wants to fight. You know that he doesn’t want a duel. His words usually become more slurred and his eyes less focused, but now his voice is both teasing and as gentle as a chime of an ornament and it rivals the glazed over yet evermore intent expression on his face. “You thought we wouldn’t notice? Kameras aren’t just used for pretty pictures, they monitor the vaults and pictures are taken every thirty seconds, just to catch you in the act. Well, I would say that this image is quite pretty, seeing as you’re in it.” The eleventh Harbinger waves a piece of paper in front of your face, and a figure that looks much like yourself captures the moment of gloved hands gripping the vault handles, the metal door already half-open.

“That’s… That’s not me..! Well, it looks like me, but I swear I wasn’t even in Liyue last week, I arrived three days ago. You can ask Beid-“ You pause, knowing that you teleported on the way back instead of taking the ship due to the many stops before you went back that would waste your time.

“The Captain who is halfway to Mondstadt? Oh dear, it seems you don’t have an alibi after all.” The woman’s voice is mature, smooth and refined like red wine; a stark contrast to Tartaglia’s. Her expression is unreadable, but her half-lidded eyes suggest she is going to enjoy whatever she has in store for you. Her breath licks your face, and she whispers into your ear as a leathered finger brushes your hair behind your ear. “I am an investigator sent from the Liyue Qixing. The name’s Yelan, keep that in mind because you’ll be screaming it a lot tonight.” The waves that once grazed your feet produce a huge wave that lifts your body into the sea: this emotion you couldn’t grasp, the meaning of the gazes that simply washed away and slipped through your fingers as you tried to understand them: it was lust.

You curl into yourself a little more, cowering from Yelan who now joins you on the floor, but the Harbinger’s long fingers supporting your back from behind keep you in place. The room heats up even more and you wish that it was the temperature of Dragonspine now. “I promise I’m not the thief, you know that I helped rebuild the Jade Chamber, that Lady Ningguang would help me if I needed anything! Even… Even you would, right?” Your voice is no longer confused, but you squirm very slightly as Childe trails a finger up your ankle.

“Of course, outlander. I am always here to defend you, which is precisely why you’re going to leave with all of your limbs intact. I call it a bargain, comrade.” His hands travel to your waist and you try to wriggle. The pair chuckle as you try to escape from them.

“These chains are manufactured for interrogations, you know? You can’t escape them, Traveller. You’re welcome to keep squirming, though, it’s fun to watch you struggle.” The woman digs her fingers into your chin when you look away from her. “Has no one taught you any manners? First you steal, now you won’t look at me when you’re speaking? Dirty brat.” Her refined drawl turns into a growl at the last two words, and she yanks your hair to keep you in check. The sharp burning in your scalp makes you hiss in pain and the gloved finger from behind you traces a line from the back of your neck to the small of your back neutralise the hot sensation with its cool touch. Tears from the pain dot the rim of your eyes and gleam on your lashes like diamonds, and you can practically hear the sneer the young woman wears on her elegant face. “No alibi, photographic evidence, and obvious trails of geo and ameno in one set of footprints. What say you, outlander?”

“I say nothing. No offense Miss Yelan, but I’m really innocent! On the day of the robbery, I was visiting the Grand Narukami Shrine, please, if I could allow you to-“ You are interrupted by the sound of a zip and the ruffling of clothes, silk slips down your legs, along with your underwear in one graceful swoop. “Childe-!” You squeak and try to use your legs to hide yourself. The pair switch places and now you have Yelan tracing circular patterns on your bare back and Tartaglia brushing stray hair out of your face. His pink lips are pursed and freckles dot his cheeks, bold and pretty like the stars in the night sky. His dark lashes flutter at the view of your bare form.

“You call me Ajax here, comrade. Although I have been called “Master” by the many poor souls who have found themselves within the cells underneath Northland Bank, I can make an exception for you.” You shake your head and try to kick your legs as Yelan unfurls your legs and your behind is lifted from your heels. Her hand is splayed on your stomach, the pads of her fingers rough. “Now, comrade, why was Paimon here, and not yourself five nights ago?” His arms wrap around you in a manner akin to an embrace, but the man has your chin propped over his shoulder. His right hand laces through your hair to soothe the remnants of the sting and another rubs circles on expanse of skin on your bottom.

You feel so hot, even though the lack of clothing should make you colder, the blazing lust that radiates the bodies surrounding you have blanketed your body in its searing warmth. “Paimon-“ You start, and you jolt as Yelan squeezes your supple flesh behind you. Childe kisses a spot underneath your ear to soothe you. “Paimon was recovering from the Electro overstimulation when we faced off against the Mikoto-“ A sharp slap to your ass from Yelan prevents you from speaking, you bury your face in Tartaglia’s shoulder as you quiver from the reeling shock. “Why? Miss Yelan, I really am telling the truth!” Childe hushes you and Yelan takes her hand off the skin, likely light red from impact. You naively misunderstand this silence as a signal of her reconsideration of her actions, but another harsh spank to your other side which causes a tear to escape your eye proves you very wrong.

Yelan digs her nails into the flesh she struck just a moment ago and you slump over the Harbinger’s strong frame, who starts to coo at your pitiful state. “Poor thing, already trembling and it’s only been a few minutes. You can’t be this fragile in the face of danger, right? Or is that strong stance just a mask for your weak self, like thorns adorning a rose? Such a pretty rose, I must add, however.”

“Pathetic. I want you to tell me exactly what you were doing at the shrine.” Yelan’s tone is condescending, as if she is explaining how to carry out a simple task such as pouring a glass of water. To this, you twitch very slightly. The Kamisato Clan may have supplied you a lot of money, on the condition that you help the head of the household, Ayato, settle the score with Lady Yae, Guuji of the Grand Narukami Shrine, by allowing yourself to… indulge in some risque adventures with him, very close to the premises but not close enough so that Lady Yae Miko could kick you two out but could only watch or listen as he ravaged you. “I-“

“You..?” Yelan urges you on, lightly smacking your thigh, and she scoffs as she finds a hickey Ayato leaves on the underside of the skin. “What a slut, the “heroic outlander” seems to have been taken by someone else too.” You don’t want to tell her that you’ve also been “taken” or nearly “taken” by the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, the Darknight Hero, the Chief Alchemist, the Geo Archon, the Tianqian of the Liyue Qixing, the Captain of the Crux fleet, the wandering samurai from Inazuma and the housekeeper of the Kamisato clan. (Guuji Yae is awaiting your return to Inazuma too, perhaps waiting for the opportunity to dress you in the finest of silks only to rip them apart and watch you scream for her in the bushes next to the Kamisato Household, strategically placed next to the room in which Kamisato Ayato files his paperwork.)

“I…” You try to continue but your voice wavers and knees buckle when Yelan’s hand travels from your stomach to flick at your nipple.

“I thought that the Hero of Mondstadt, Saviour of Liyue and the Miracle of Inazuma would be a beacon of innocence and purity, but here you are, throwing your pathetic self at anyone you set eyes on.” She accentuates the adjective of your supposed reputation with a harsh spank.

“I-I’m sorry, Yelan!” You sniff behind the glazed wall of tears that fill your eyes from how humiliating the position you’re in is, both literally and figuratively. The pain of her words and hand only enhance the shameful heat blooming in your lower stomach, threatening to make its presence known in liquid form.

“Aww, poor darling.” Childe gently brings your face towards his own and wipes away the tears on your bottom lash line. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and your fingertips above your head, a predatory expression graces his visage. “Miss Yelan, you can’t be too rough with the Saviour of Liyue, they might not be pure or innocent, but neither are we. And anyways, the Traveller is too stupid to understand how much power their secret partners have over them. They’re too naive and are probably all fucked out from a single kiss to understand what’s going on. I’m sorry, angel, but I’m very right, aren’t I?” One look into his cerulean blue eyes, the colour vibrant under the moonlight, makes you realise he is not sorry in the slightest. This faux pity only makes you melt and you try to avert your gaze because the heat is simply too much.

“I think we need to loosen that mouth of yours in order to get the truth out of you, thoughts, Harbinger?” Her cold voice clashes against the hot lilt in Tartaglia’s voice. Both degrade you in different manners: Childe with his tantalizing and cooing, which makes you feel small and helpless, and Yelan with her name calling and severe reprimands.

“I agree.” He props you back to his original position after unbuckling his belt and handing it to the dark haired lady.

“Count for me, stupid slut.” And seven consecutive whips on your ass and upper thighs leave you trembling and squealing. “You can barely get your words out, stop muttering.” And she uses her hand to spank you for an eighth time, and you count properly. To your relief, a “nine” on the tip of your tongue turns into an “eight” on reflex.

“You’re doing so well for us Traveller. If you just tell us what you were doing at the shrine, we won’t be mad. I’m sure your pretty little head can’t think of any ways to escape this place, so speak up and we’ll be very gentle~” He hums, but you know very well the last time he promised to be “gentle” he nearly killed you. Literally.

“I… Well…” You tremble like a leaf at the thought of the wrath of this unlikely alliance. If Lady Yae were to find you, would she find you in one piece?

As if she reads your thoughts, she leans over your body and whispers into your ear, “We can always contact the Shrine Maiden, Ganyu writes to her regularly, see what she says. I hear she’s got an excellent memory.”

“No! No need! Really!” You blurt out and Tartaglia’s fingers stop petting your head and instead rub the small of your back.

“I’ve found bite marks on the Outlander’s thighs, some rabid fox has chewed you up. I wonder if that’s how you got the money from that rich Inazuman family. Why not indulge us, slut?” Yelan registers the fact that Ajax is extremely possessive, and she plays her cards flawlessly.

Before you could explain yourself through small whispers and squeaks, Childe cups your cheeks with both of his hands and you can look nowhere except the eyes that were once friendly wash away and darken visibly. Cobalt blue meets teary doe eyes, and he scoffs.

“Of all the people, that asshole? I would rather you go make out with his little sister, but him? He killed many Fatui. You are in huge trouble, comrade, and this is me done playing nice.”

And so the tides turn.

Instead of being on either side of you, Yelan is fully in front of your trembling form and Childe is directly behind. You know he’s getting an eyeful of the red marks on your derriere and hear the little laugh he gives as he slots his left thigh in between your own exposed ones. Yelan’s hands grip your hips and force your crotch to come in contact with the taller man’s muscled thighs, a sweet smile graces her face: “Honey, it’s alright to tell us exactly what he did to you.” Her hands leave your hips and a hydro dice forms with a flick of her fingers. “If I roll an even number, you’re going to get overstimulated, and if I roll an odd number, it’ll be a miracle if you get to cum at all.” She laughs as the dice rolls across the floor.

“I prefer overstimulation: it makes the prisoner more vulnerable and twitchy. Plus, I think that sensitive bodies are easier to take control of, especially when they can barely take anymore.” Childe states, flexing his thigh to prove a point. You, of course, feel this minor action right where it’s the most sensitive. The waves are already growing in size, the pit of your stomach bubbles with anticipation and arousal.

“Well, we’re in a dilemma because I’ve rolled a three,” the opaque blue dice disintegrates into water droplets and the young lady places her hands on your hips again, forcing them to grind on the grey pants underneath. The friction makes you whimper under your breath but the ever so observant Yelan is hot on your trail. “Feel good, love? You want more?” You nod dumbly in reply. “I see. Then tell us, did Lord Kamisato tie you up like this? Hmm? Make you look pretty and presentable?” You nod affirmatively, Ayato used the ribbon from his outfit and a few shawls from the nearby boutique to make you more helpless as a punishment for not being loud enough for Yae to hear, he even blindfolded you to make sure that you wouldn’t be disobedient.

Tartaglia pinches both of your nipples, his breath hot and filled with fury as he jostles you on his thigh. Yelan continues to question you and control your hip movements at the same time. “My goodness me, you poor thing. Though I would do the same, I hear Inazumans like to tie their partners up with a very intricate pattern in mind.” Shibari. Kazuha had definitely made sure you knew that after a long night of drinking sake, he was gentle and loving, yet almost just as dangerous as the two fellows you’re with now. “Did this Kamisato mark you elsewhere? Any healed bruises?”

You’re too busy moaning quietly and hiccuping back tears to verbally reply, so you tilt your head to reveal a bite mark on the junction between your collarbone and neck. Yelan’s eyes once again flash blue, and she peers over you to look at Childe. “Harbinger, let’s make a bet.”

“Alright.”

“If we make the Traveller cum in five minutes, this little mess can take it until they pass out. If not, they aren’t allowed to for the rest of the night.” Ningguang hadn’t allowed you cum a few times and it hurt oh so very much, but you knew that overstimulation wasn't any better through Thoma, sweet and angelic Thoma, got so over excited that he didn’t even realise he had made you orgasm three times in the span of twenty minutes.

“Accepted!” Tartaglia snickers in glee as his knees start to bounce you up and down whilst Yelan moves you back and forth like a ragdoll. Oh how the waves crash and throw you around, how they taunt you and bully you into submission.

“No, no please!” You gasp as Childe nibbles on the hickey Ayato left on you. Surely they wouldn’t do something so cruel and heartless? Surely, surely, they wouldn’t be so mean to you. Even Kaeya, who promised to leave you high and dry if you made too much noise in the Acting Grandmaster’s office, caved in and gave you what you needed. If Captain Kaeya can be merciful, then surely your two captors could do the same.

Oh how wrong you are.

“You need saving, honey? Perhaps Mr. Zhongli can come in, he’s certainly a heroic man. A refined gentleman. However I hear he demands perfect obedience in bed, perhaps you’d know, Traveller?” Her voice is too sweet, too sugarcoated, just like honey. And you, stuck in this pool of honey, can barely move as the thick substance slows your movements and time all in one go. How does she read you? How does she piece together such facts from fine fragments?

“Xiangsheng too? Who haven’t you fallen in the trap of? Next time we meet in the Liuli Pavilion, I’ll make sure to exchange notes. You should tag along, I’m sure he’d love to hear how many people you’ve opened your legs for. I spotted him buying a nice whip from Ying’er a month ago. Maybe your ass was spared by us today but Mr. Zhongli will make sure you can no longer sit.” He bounces his thigh even faster, and you see Yelan’s eyes glint cruelly.

“Really, you poor bunny, you’re absolutely drenched! You just keep wanting more, don’t you?” She lifts your hips effortlessly, and laughs mockingly at the darker grey spot on the Harbinger’s pants. The waves gradually build up and are about to crash down to lead to your climax. Maybe it’s Yelan’s lipstick staining your lips and neck, or Ajax’s bite marks decorating your waist, neck and thighs like petals.

And being the avid mind reader that she is, Yelan catches on faster than a racing stream along the Liyue countryside. She knows that you’re close, so she makes you grind further down onto him, though her grip has considerably loosened because you started moving on your own, so drunk from pleasure that you mindlessly chase it and sacrifice your ego. It’s not the first time you’ve done it, and certainly not the last.

A sharp jolt of pleasure shoots up your spine, and you finally unravel. The waves lash into the sky and come crashing down onto the shoreline, the seafoam still there to mess with you.) Limp in your binds, a cry and sweet whispers of faux sympathy fill the jail cell along with ragged pants. The strong aroma of sex taints the room, and in the corner of your eye, you look at the photo of you robbing the bank once more. The tears of post orgasmic bliss clear away.

“You really came at exactly five minutes, what are we supposed to do with you?” Yelan wipes your tears away with the fluffy sleeve of the jacket draped around her shoulders and Tartaglia removes his thigh, grimacing and grinning at the same time.

“I say we go with overstim.”

“They’re my capture, Harbinger.”

“And this is my holding cell.”

The words blur in your head as the moon, higher in the sky, focuses on the date on the corner of the photo.

Five months before you headed to Liyue, when Childe let you take money from the banks. That’s why elemental traces of anemo and geo were left, you hadn’t even resonated with electro yet.

They framed you.

“B-but, the date…” is all you can say, words failing to form because your head is filled with honey and lust and want and greed, for more, just a slight touch or a sliver of attention from them, the strong and opposing waves that push and pull you apart, like a flower unfurling its petals. “The picture was ages ago… Not last week.”

Childe and Yelan both blink at you, amused.

“I told you, Miss Yelan, they’re not brain dead. Although they’re usually quite quick to catch on, I’m sure it’s because they’ve never dealt with two people before, it clouded their judgement.” You gape at them, the reality sinking in.

"Why..? Why did you?" You glare at Ajax defiantly, though you're not really mad, and they both know it. "What was your motive? I know you don't share."

He pouts, feigning innocence: "You know me, I nearly drowned Liyue so I'm working with Miss Yelan to rebuild my reputation in exchange for information on what the other Fatui are up to. She caught quite a big traitor, and myself a nice raise, so we decided to indulge in something. A reward, if you will. "

Yelan nods, a small smile on her face. "He told me tales of you and your adventures. I had to see you for myself, it's only an extra I got to really enjoy your moaning." You nod at her politely, arms still above your head.

"We're not done yet, comrade." Tartaglia's eyes soften as he approaches you, undoing his scarf with one hand and another resting on your pelvis. Something blossoms across the space and you can only gasp in awe as a riptide mark is applied, a light pulse to your groin every few seconds and a stronger pulse if he touches any part of you with infused hydro. "Let's have a rematch, since the last one was a tie."

"Yes, the night is still young, is it not?" You feel her palms spread your legs, the evidence of your orgasm still evident. Her grin turns into a scowl of impatience and her demeanour changes once more. The hand she runs through your hair curls into a fist and you yelp, helpless.

"We never did get you to tell us what you were doing at the Grand Narukami Shrine in full detail. Why not start with that? Get to it, slut." She slaps your cheek in a way that is not gentle or rough, with Ajax to kiss it all better.

Once again, the tides turn, and you, the flower amongst the waves, can only go with the flow…

#genshin imagines #genshin smut #genshin childe #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin yelan #childe x reader #childe smut #yelan smut

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ibbywondrous · 6 months

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Ah so Will o’ the Wisp is a really interesting antagonist because he has basically no appearances… because he’s got one very good self contained arc so there’s no reason to really touch him.

Basically, Jackson Arvad was the head of Brand corporation’s electromagnetic division. His boss wanted results now, so he pushed Jackson to take more and more overtime under the threat of being fired. One day this got so bad that he collapsed, and similarly overworked his machine started to fail. He tried to fix it but instead had the bonds between all his atoms destroyed. Brand decided to recoup their investment by stabilizing him just long enough to question him on the incident’s implications and then left him to die when his atoms drifted too far apart and killed him. But instead of just dying, he managed to weasel himself through the atoms of the tube they were keeping him in.

Somehow, he winds up going to a Dr Harrow to fix this. Harrow was pitched as the guy villains that aren’t geniuses or with corporations get their tech from. Anyway, Harrow says he’ll help and implants a chip in the back of Arvad’s neck. It’s unclear if this helps with the falling apart of it all, but it does mean that if Arvad doesn’t do what Harrow wants he presses a button and the chip painfully rips him apart.

So Wisp robs people as nicely as he can under the circumstances until Spidey shows up and he’s ordered to kill him. Wisp tries to fight Spidey but… he’d rather die a human that live as a monster. So he gets exploded.

Turns out though, there’s no level of separation of Wisp’s molecules that will kill him. So over 4 years of publication, Wisp pulls himself together. Once he’s got enough of a blob to try and contact Spidey he tries to do that, but Spidey doesn’t recognize him until it’s too late and shoos him off. So instead, he takes over the battle suit of the villain Killer Shrike to puppet him around to kidnap the scientist who was hired to replace him, Dr Marla Madison.

Dr Madison is extremely cool as it turns out, because by the time Spidey catches up to free her, she’s just annoyed at him because Wisp does genuinely need her help. So Spidey does his best to help because even though he doesn’t know Wisp’s history before Dr Harrow at this point, Wisp is still pretty clearly a nice, if very desperate, guy.

However, now that Wisp has a body again and doesn’t have his imminent death over his head, he decides that the only solution is to destroy Brand corporation so they can never do this to anyone ever again. Exploding their buildings is working out swimmingly until he accidentally interrupts Brand’s attempt to give the villain Tarantula Spidey’s powers, turning the Tarantula into a giant spider instead. After a quick fight with Spidey him and the Tarantula go tumbling into Jamaica Bay and when they don’t come up, their presumed dead.

This notion is dissuaded when he and the Tarantula show up at the house of the boss that did this to both of them and after a really good monologue Wisp goes to kill him. Spidey of course saves the day, and after a long fight convinces Wisp that it’d be better to get legal justice for what happened and turn his boss over to the police.

After a brief misunderstanding brings a bunch of Spidey’s reformed foes together to beat the apparent law breaking out of him, said former foes form the superhero team the Outlaws. Unfortunately, because Wisp’s whole ghost thing freaks out most of the team and he’s not great at following orders when he thinks they're unjust he only ends up going on one adventure with them.

Then he shows up for one last storyline where Harrow has reactivated the chip still in his neck and the current Spider-Man at the time, Ben Riley, has to rip it out. Wisp leaves on good terms….

…and then after that none of the writer’s who used him researched who he was so he just became the butt of jokes about c-list Spider-Man villains and occasionally cannon faughter.

Sorry can you tell this guy is a special interest? Anyway, I unfortunately have ideas about how to adapt him to your AU but because it is Your AU I will leave it at this thank you for reading this horribly long thing.

Not gonna lie I wasn't expecting you to post basically a wiki article, and it did take me a hot minute to actually read all of it. At someone here is passionate about c-list spiderman villains.

#ask

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amidnightmission · 4 months

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Travel was in her blood. Always had been, she supposed. Her father had taken her around to every dig site he'd worked on. Sure, mostly in Egypt - but there had been some good trips around Asia and into Europe, too. Sitting still had never really been option. If she'd fought her father probably would have sent her to a boarding school permanently instead of for a few terms here and there, to make sure her education was up to date. But Layla didn't like sitting still.

After everything with Harrow had gone down, Layla hadn't been sure what to expect. But the thing was, they both had their lives to live. A few days together didn't change everything, did it? Maybe put some things into perspective and filled in a few blanks but it didn't change that Marc had up and left on her, and now Steven was off doing-- well, his own thing. A very Steven thing. She'd been content to let them all have a cooling off period. Not forever, mind, and she wanted contact with them - an actual number that worked.

And for a while, she'd worked with Marc when she could - hunting down some last members of the cult. Harrow might be gone, but he had some TRUE BELIEVERS. Unfortunately. The craziest people had the most loyal devotees. That was what she was doing done. Tracking down a couple of rogue members (as herself, and occasionally as the Scarlet Scarab). She wasn't certain, but she also believed they might be in possession of some artefacts stolen from the sacred grounds and pyramids before they'd fled. Her work had led her to London. She'd not seen Marc for a while, had had a message from Steven. Figured they'd meet up. But--

"You have to got to be kidding me."

She'd thought she'd been followed. Was certain of it. Had gone down an alley, pulled out a little knife (laugh all you want she was proficient with it), and had turned around to fight. Only to turn and see... THEM.

starter call ☾ @normaltothemax

#whether she knows jake or not... i don't mind either way! but i'm all for jake and layla interactions.#normaltothemax #𓆣☾☾ i don't steal. they've already been stolen ;; layla el faouly

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skywitchmaja · 2 years

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even before the transphobia came to light— jkr’s writing can be sooo cruel towards woman & girls for as much as she used to be celebrated as a ‘feminist’

like ginny is introduced as ron’s kid sister who has this big girlish crush on harry. this is mostly just very embarrassing for both of them. it’s fine, they’re middle schoolers.

then ginny has to be the damsel in distress for the second book finale which means she has to be vulnerable, she has to be manipulated (by voldemort’s diary), she has to do bad things (while possessed), and most of all, she has to be helpless and she has to be saved. this is some harrowing shit for an 11 year old to go through, but we don’t get much about it from her perspective bc it’s mostly there so harry and ron can be heroic and strengthen their friendship. ginny is still in the role of damsel by the end of this book.

a couple books later jkr decides to start setting up romances, so harry has a crush on cho chang bc she’s good at sports (which is cute). unfortunately for him, cho is dating harry’s cool seventeen year old crush friend & competitor, cedric digory, so harry is just crushing away, and cho doesn’t have much to do except for politely turn him down. ginny isn’t really important this book, irc i think she goes to magic prom with neville. ron and hermione have their own issues, but this book is mostly set up (both relationship wise & in the greater voldemort plot).

then in the fifth book, their relationship comes to fruition bc cedric died so now cho is single. she’s drawn to harry bc he was friends with cedric & he was there when cedric died , and she hopes that they can process their grief together. unfortunately, harry is having a lot of difficulty processing his grief, so he reacts badly when cho cries or wants to talk about cedric bc it reminds harry of his own feelings he’s trying to avoid. this would be fine on it’s own, except the fandom didn’t recognize harry as an unreliable narrator and began characterizing her as being “whiny” and “weak” and “annoying”. and it would seem like a fandom issue & not jkr’s misogyny, hermione even stands up for cho (although much of that grace is lost when cho/her friend narc to umbridge). meanwhile, ginny is getting cooler and cooler— joining the quidditch team, joining dumbledor’s army, dating boys to let us know she’s moved on from her childhood crush on harry, and most importantly, joining harry & co at the climactic fight against voldemort, as a hero this time rather than a damsel. why is this a bad thing? it’s not, we love to see a girlboss winning. but they way jkr writes romance puts these girls in opposition to each other.

in the sixth book, harry realizes he has feelings for ginny, and she is everything cho is not. actually, cho is what ginny used to be, and vice versa. to make sure we know ginny is no longer the vulnerable, emotional, “weak” girl harry saved in the second book, jkr gives these traits to cho instead, as she’s incredibly emotionally vulnerable after losing her first boyfriend, and was hoping that harry would be there for her when he couldn’t. in dating cho, harry realizes that the reality of being in a relationship with someone is very different from crushing on them from afar, and while cho may be pretty & nice & good at quidditch, she isn’t someone he wants to date (again, mostly because they have incompatible ways of dealing with grief). which is fine, they’re kids, they’re still learning about themselves and other people. except the fandom/jkr didn’t really delve into that complexity, and it was almost always reduced to saying that cho was “wrong” for harry and ginny is “the right one”. she does this, proving one love interest is “right” by showing another as “wrong”, in an even shallower way with hermione, ron and lavender brown. it’s exponentially worse because cho, and lavender in the first five movies, are non-white characters.

harry starts to catch feelings for ginny, which has significantly more depth than his crush on cho because he’s known her for so long, but he still admires things like her skill at quidditch (lol), and how cool and popular she is, as well as her strong will and sense of humor. but in order to be valid as a love interest according to jkr, ginny has to shed the traits that characterized her as a damsel in distress in the second book, ironically, a role that is often filled by the love interest. this is actually kind of subversive, but not necessarily in a good way– rather than rejecting patriarchal lens of reducing women to “damsels”, jkr simply pushes this lens onto cho, (not with a rescue plot, but with character traits), saying that damselization is bad, not because it’s bad to objectify women, but because some women are badass and cool and “don’t need to be saved” and the ones who are weak and emotional and do need to be saved are worthy of derision. this pushes the burden away from the male gaze that sees women as damsels and onto women and girls who must reject “damselish” or “feminine” traits. harry realizes his feelings when he sees how different ginny is now from the girl who had a huge crush on him, the girl he had to save from an evil snake, the girl who was sensitive and helpless, because she isn’t those things anymore. but cho, from harry’s perspective, is. harry avoids her like he avoided ginny in the first few books bc their emotionality makes him uncomfortable. to be fair, harry doesn’t hate cho for these traits anymore than he did ginny early in the series, but the fandom certainly did (i use past tense bc the fandom now is… idek) and i believe jkr does too.

by the end of the series, harry has cool, tough, funny, pretty, quidditch star, ginny weasley, and to be honest he really doesn’t share a lot of vulnerability with her. even when he’s worried about being possessed by voldemort, he doesn’t think to ask ginny what that was like when it happened to her, because he “forgot”. in the last book, harry even breaks up with her for several months “to protect her” rather than taking her on a dangerous camping trip with ron and hermione. this is reasonable enough, and i think it’s good that the series ends with the same trio it started with, but it does deny harry and ginny’s relationship opportunity to develop because they only really see each other at the very beginning and the very end of the last book. so ironically, a lot of people don’t like harry and ginny as a couple (especially in the movies) because jkr was so sparse with vulnerability in their relationship. both girls, both relationships, suffer from this “sensitive” vs “resilient”, or more shallowly, as it tends to be perceived, “weak” vs “strong” contrast between cho and ginny. but ultimately, ginny is rewarded for shedding her girlish emotional sensitivity while cho is punished, not just for her own but for ginny’s as well, because she’s taking over ginny’s role as “emotionally sensitive girl” so ginny can rise to the “cool girl” pedestal now that someone else is being looked down upon for having feelings.

#tldr: jkr doesn’t just put ginny & cho against each other as love interests she uses cho as recepticle for ginny’s ‘flaws’(vulnerability etc #that were present when ginny was just a kid with a crush so ginny can be the perfect ‘strong female character’ love interest #oof #i love how you can tell i thought i was gonna be brief with this bc the first two paragraphs are pretty short but then. lol.#i never know if im being long winded & repetetive or if i'm being rushed & unclear #oh well no one wants to read harry potter criticism in 2022 anyway and i dont wanna go back & edit #also im reasonably confident ginny makes some derisive comments about cho at some point but im not looking that up #hp #jk rowling #character tags? sure i guess #ginny weasley #cho chang #low key this makes me wanna write a ginny & cho character study fic booooooooooooooooooooo 🍅🍅🍅🍅#uh #hp critical #okay before the 'readmore' this makes it seem like its gonna be a laundry list but really its just a deconstruction of one example

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turianosauruswrex · 1 year

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jesus christ i have too many ocs. okay. crash course time.

the big ones

Katya Fyodorova: aka Katya Vorakh, aka Grief. D&D character originating in quarantine, now played on Discord server. Scourge aasimar shadow sorcerer, former Vecna warlock, still fucked up about it. Spoiled rich mafia brat. Memory problems. Severely ex-Catholic. Ignore the six-armed angel in the corner. Don't worry about it.

Jules McAllister: Courier Six. Unfortunately sided with Caesar's Legion, got crucified for it. There's fanfiction about that (no for real, I'll drop you a link or two). The reason I installed the Better Living Through Chems mod. Peak Aries. Made the worst decisions possible in-game and post-game. They hate to see a girlboss winning. (- Jules, 2281, immediately after the slaughter of Camp McCarran)

Sylvie Caron: Newest D&D character to the fold. Rogue played in a homebrew setting. Creepy little Van Helsing. Buries bodies for a living. Don't worry about it.

Zydre Dashiev: D&D character, pirate changeling warlock. Looks like a tiefling 99% of the time because their mommy's a tiefling and they love their mommy. Also because shapechangers get drafted and they'd die before joining the military. Has to be the hottest person in the room at all times. Patron is the moon. That's rough buddy.