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wonderwafles · 5 months ago

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The ending of Revenant is a weird thing to talk about as someone who's loved the Eliksni since I started playing Destiny in 2014, there for the first mention of the Kell of Kells and here to finally see the title bestowed. It's *really* weird to say that, after all that, I sort of really really hate how it ends

Revenant feels like the culmination of a trend in Bungie's writing that's been percolating since Splicer, which I snidely call the "uwuification of the Eliksni" or more helpfully might just be called a "flattening." What I always found most interesting about the Eliksni was the merge of the tragedy of their lost homeworld combined with the desperate, inexcusable violence they inflicted on humanity. Their most prominent characters were deeply complicated people, from Variks who allied with us only to eventually unleash the Scorn, to Eramis, who wanted to create a new home for her people but got lost in vengeance and hate. They were Fallen, but they could rise.

Splicer is the beginning of doing away with this in favor of the Eliksni being primarily victims of humanity. The unease the human residents felt towards the House of Light wasn't due to, say, generational memories of Eliksni invading and burning almost all of human civilization to the ground, or first hand memories of Twilight Gap when they almost succeeded in doing that to the Last City, but rather... knee-jerk racism. Lakshmi, as the figurehead of that movement, was purely villainized despite it being revealed that she was there when the Eliksni first arrived and saw the horrors they inflicted, and ultimately she isn't even given the dignity of her own motivations — instead, she's been corrupted by Savathûn.

Eramis turns from a dangerous ideologue who is destroying her own people in pursuit of vengeance to a justifiably aggrieved revolutionary, calling humanity out on their "oppression" of her House of invaders, pirates, and colonizers. No human is allowed to point out that she came from Riis to kill them. No House Salvation member is even allowed to be angry with her for unleashing the Vex onto them. It's hard not to conclude that the game completely forgot who she was in pursuit of forcing her into this new role.

It'd be one thing if this new story was better than the old one, but frankly, I really don't think so. Eramis and Variks both have their complexities filed away to nothing, and the motivations of the Eliksni as a whole become nonsensical. The House of Light's opportunity to be both a House of refugees and representatives of an invading race justly feared by the Last City is gone. Misraaks and Eido's roles as mediators between humans and Eliksni don't really matter because there's nothing to mediate; humans are bad and Eliksni are good. There's a lot of talk about the two species putting aside their differences to build a better future... but what differences? What differences specifically? Space racism was ended when Savathûn's magic went away, and obviously a long war of annihilation is really the fault of the people defending themselves from annihilation.

Eramis getting the Echo was sort of the culmination of all of this; she hasn't learned anything or changed since she opened the Vex portals on Europa, or even since she invaded Earth in the first place. But the new lore is that she doesn't need to; she was always in the right. How tiresome. How boring. How anticlimactic.

#destiny #me talking #very sad to see the Eliksni storyline end this way tbh #i'll always remember you house of wolves

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masterfuldoodler · 22 days ago

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Been meaning to ask, but got any show / book recommendations? Trying to find some new stuff to watch and read.

Oh ooo a chance to influence and drag someone into my interests hmmm. Okay my list got a bit long dsvkncjhfk

Anime:

My Hero Academia (themes of friendship, what it means to help others, and pushing yourself to be the best version of you)

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (themes of the value of life, vengeance vs mercy, what it means to be human)

Mob Psycho 100 (themes of learning to relate to others, being a better version of yourself, a coming of age story. Also psychic powers.)

The World Ends With You (also a video game which is a better fleshed out version of it) (themes of the nature of humans, friendship, and willingness for self growth.)

Movies:

Castle in the Sky (and every other Ghibli movie) (themes of love, duty, and man's hubris)

Into the Spiderverse (and the other movies) (themes of love—friendship and parental, coming into your own, and sacrifice)

Suzume (themes of love, sacrifice and duty)

The Dark Crystal (good vs evil, innocence and sin)

The Labyrinth (growing up, and learning to care for others)

The Last Unicorn (mortality, humans and loss of innocence)

Kubo and the Two Strings (growing up, truly loving others, forgiveness, family, and the power of stories)

The Secret of Kells (very vibey. Bravery, doing right in the face of conflict)

The Song of the Sea (family, grieving, hope and love)

The Ashland: In the Hall of the Mountain King (fun folktale adventure, bravery and value of perspective)

Shows:

Trollhunters (duty, sacrifice, many trolls)

Doctor Who (humanity, compassion, courage, aliens)

Star Trek (The Original Series) (what it means to be human, friendship, wacky adventures)

Lupin (fun heist story, consequences of your failings, racism)

Arcane (adult and grimdark so look up details)(not a huge fan of how it ended but there's a lot of craftsmenship in it) (can someone become so fallen they can never be redeemed or loved? our choices affect others, change starts you)

Squid Game (TVMA violence and a tragedy, but I love a sad story) (greed and the depravity of man, value of life)

Musical:

Hadestown (love, learning to love again, sacrifices of love, also capitalism)

The Phantom of the Opera (selfish love vs sacrificial love, my work place is haunted)

Books:

The Great and Terrible Quest (courage, compassion, going beyond your limits)

The Scarlet Pimpernel (romance, learning humility, silly adventure)

Howl's Moving Castle (you need to face your flaws and fears to grow, you are holding yourself back, and love, also do your taxes)

The Green Ember (loyalty, courage in the face of fear, sacrifice, hope, and encouraging others)

I hope some of these suggestions work for you! :D

#thanks for the ask!#ask #trxt #answer #recommendations

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artistinyou2 · 3 months ago

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Destiny 2

18+ Smut MDNI

Cayde 6 and Crow x Fem reader

Warnings: Threesome, a lot of Sexual tension, love triangle etc.

You were on a mission with Cayde 6 and The Crow to take out a Rouge Fallen Kell. They were getting close to the hideout of the Kell as Cayde 6 said "hold up do you hear that" the Kell slowly emerges out of the cave as we all look at him and this particular Kell is massive. The Kell Kotsurabi was a sword weilding Kell of his clan and the soul serviver of his clan. He takes up arms ready to attack as we too get ready to attack.

Kotsurabi makes the first move and thay move was aimed tword you a Hunter as you dodge the attack you aim your Chosen One up at the Kell and shoot but you miss ur target by centimeters as Crow brings out Hawkmoon and shoots at the Kell hitting him Cayde does the same with the Ace of Spades also hitting him as they keep shooting at him for what he did by shooting at you.

They finally killed him and took some loot u decided not to because you didn't do much to help as Cayde gesture for you to come over to get loot as you said "I don't deserve any loot I really wasn't of any help to you guys" you look away embarrassed by what took place. Cayde and Crow look at you as you look at them as they looked at each other with smiles.

"Um what are you two planning?" I question them as Cayde said "Well we have a surprise for you oh k and it's a good one it should cheer you up" you smiled. You have known Cayde and Crow for while now and you have a thing for both of them but you couldn't choose which one you wanted they were both very cute and your feelings for both are very strong.

(Later in the Tower)

You were walking around the tower seeing the vendors like Zavala who was first and for most your best friend as you walk up Zavala turns around and greets you with a smile as he said "Hay how are you today?" He asked and you reply "Oh lighten up Zavala it's me you don't have to be stern around me you know that right" Zavala gives her a look like he knows that "I'm just making sure ur on your toes oh k" he lightens up a bit with a soft smile.

So you say your goodbyes and walk off to see Lord Shaxx as he comes up to you and gives you a big bare hug with a laugh as he said "Well I'm glad to see your back in one piece" you laugh a bit at Shaxx as you say "yeah I'm glad to be back in the tower". Shaxx laughed again as he said "you wanna play some Crucible later?" He asked as u say "not today maybe tomorrow though oh k Shaxx" you say with a smile on your face.

(Later that evening)

You were looking all over the place for Cayde and Crow then all of the sudden they show up and Crow said "there you are we were beginning to worry about you as you said "I was in the Tower the whole time visiting Zavala and Shaxx" Cayde looked at you as he said "Well it's time for your surprise now follow us and close your eyes" you close your eyes as u hold on to Crow.

Your walking eyes still close as you come to a stop you wait for the oh k from Cayde 6 and Crow as u stand there waiting you finally hear Cayde say "you can open up your eyes now" you open up ur eyes and look around blushing a bit "it's romantic" you say then Crow says "Cayde and I both know that you like the both of us so we both want to give u something u will never forget". Cayde and Crow get closer as you can feel you body getting warm.

Cayde starts to touch you the cold metal of his hand on your neck sent shivers down your spine as Crow goes in for the kiss he kisses you so gently as you blush. They lead you over to the comfy bed and pillows as Cayde said "go ahead sit" you sit down as Cayde and Crow undo their pants and slide them off you see that they are full erect as you blush a deep shade of Crimson red as they walk closer to you.

You have all of this built up Sexual tension and you just want to let it out as you look up at both of them. They give you sexy looks as they moan out "your so good y/n". They then move and get on the bed kneeling as you kneel bent over your ass facing Cayde and your mouth facing Crow as u take Crows cock into your mouth as Cayde puts his in your pussy. They start to trust into you back and forth as you moan and they moan in pleasure.

Cayde picks up one of your legs and turns ur hips sideways as he fucks you while you suck off Crow as he moans and Cayde also moans as you make them feel good. "Your a good girl" Crow says as he thrusts into your mouth hard. As Cayde pounds you from behind hard and fast as he moans "fuck your so amazing y/n" Cayde was impressed with you and how you are sooo perfect.

You say in a muffled tone to Cayde and Crow "I'm cumming I'm cumming cum with me" you moan out as they both came at the same time as you as you continue to moan. Cayde and Crow both pull out as you lay there breathing heavy blushing like crazy looking at them standing there as they look at you then at each with smiles on their faces as they look back at you as Crow said "your a very good girl Y/N and both Cayde and I want to give you something else" Crow went to grab the thing for you as he comes back with a coupon book they made up so that you can have fun with both of them or separately. "Oh wow um......thanks" you say as you take it then ask "can I um.....stay with you guys tonite?" they nod as you smile.

#cayde 6 #crow destiny #destiny 2 #destiny fanfiction

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optimisticgrey · 20 days ago

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3. touching foreheads

35. running your finger down their spine

42. doing each other’s hair

Pleeeeeease ☺️✨

Anything for you 🫶🫂😘

from the intimacy asks

VP by alstromeri-a

Touching foreheads - Celeste and Gale Running your fingers down their spine - Halsin and Celeste Doing each other's hair - Celeste and Shadowheart

Touching foreheads - Celeste and Gale

The chaos of battle ensnared them - screams, smoke, and spells melding into one relentless symphony. There were too many attackers to count: twisted undead, raging goblins, shadows of nightmares she’d rather not name. But Celeste loved every second of it. Magic thrummed through her veins as a second heartbeat, her sword slick and singing in her hand, a spell half-formed on her tongue. She was fire and fury, reckless joy wrapped in deadly purpose.

She didn’t need to look to know where the others were. She trusted them with her life, as they trusted her. They moved like one, potions flung without looking, shields raised in split seconds, bodies thrown in front of blades, arrows and spells for one another. Too many battles had forged them into something more than a team: a family of the blood-soaked and battle-worn.

Her back collided with someone behind her, solid and familiar. She didn’t have to look.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” Gale’s voice curled into her ear, warm even amid the roar of carnage. His hand found her hip and gave a brief, playful squeeze before he cast a fireball with a sharp “Ardē!”

The explosion lit the sky, a halo of flame behind her.

“Quite well, my lo - ” Celeste began, breathless, only to break off as a snarling goblin lunged toward her. Her spell turned it to ash mid-air, and she stepped forward to cleave through the next with her blade. “I love you,” she giggled, dancing back to back with Gale, the two of them moving as though choreographed: her shoulder brushing his, her step mirroring his, backs aligned.

“Kell, dodge!” Karlach’s voice rang out.

Without hesitation, Celeste’s hand shot behind her, shoving Gale downward as she ducked, and Karlach’s massive axe sang above their heads, splitting a hobgoblin nearly in two with a bone-shattering crack. Blood sprayed across the stones. The body hit the earth behind them with a thud.

Rising, Celeste’s fingers ghosted over Gale’s shoulder, trailing down his arm until her hand found his and linked tightly.

“Well done, Kalla!” she called, scanning the field - just in time to see the final enemy fall to Wyll's blade.

Gale turned, pulled her into him, his arm fierce around her waist, his free hand cupping her cheek with reverent tenderness. His forehead pressed against hers, their breath still fast from the fight.

“I love you too."

Running fingers down their spine - Halsin and Celeste

Halsin had never cared for events such as these: gatherings that smelled more of politics than purpose, of perfumes masking grief, of silk draped over the bones of sorrow. The ballroom shimmered with candlelight and jewels, but he felt no warmth in it. Only artifice. Pretense. A hollow celebration dressed in finery, honoring a city scarred by fire and loss.

It was, to his mind, an insult to the fallen.

And yet, as one of the so-called Saviors of Baldur’s Gate, he was expected to smile and endure it. To bow. To speak when spoken to. To play at civility in a place where the universe itself had nearly unraveled beneath them all.

He had slipped away to a quieter alcove, near a lavishly overstocked table of fruit - absurd in its wastefulness, but at least honest in its simplicity. Something that still grew from soil and sun. He ate in silence, chewing slowly, grounding himself in the simple act. Letting the sweetness of summer berries soothe the tension in his shoulders.

And that was when Celeste found him.

She moved through the crowd like a shadow kissed by moonlight - graceful, self-assured, and beautiful beyond all sense. In black silk and tulle, she looked every inch a queen, though no crown would ever suit her quite like the wild freedom she carried in her eyes. That knowing smile - wry, warm, and unmistakably hers - slipped over his spirit like a balm. And she came to stand beside him, as she so often did, without needing invitation or excuse.

“Deep breaths, big bear,” she murmured into his shoulder, her lips brushing the fabric of the tunic she had picked for him. Not because he was incapable of choosing his own clothes, but because it delighted her and he, ever devoted to her desires, had long since given himself over to the joy of letting her delight in him.

He turned slightly, amused. “One might guess,” he mused with a faint smirk, “that an Archdruid of my age would be well equipped for such gatherings.”

She laughed warmly. Then she leaned against him, resting her temple on his shoulder. Her hand reached behind him, fingers lightly grazing his back.

“Yes, one might think that,” she said, lifting a finger from her glass to gesture at the crowd. “Then again, you chose me as your partner. And somehow - after all this - you still underestimate just how well I know you.”

And with that, she slipped her hand beneath the back of his tunic, dragging her fingertips in a gentle line up his spine. Just skin against skin. No magic. No ceremony. Just presence.

His breath caught, his eyes fluttered closed, and it was only with effort that he swallowed the groan that rose in his throat. A lesser man might have been undone by such a touch. But Halsin was not lesser, he was simply hers.

“Relax, my heart,” she whispered in Elven, her voice warm and grounding, words chosen with deliberate care. “I am here with you. You are not alone in this. These people don’t know who we are, not really. They don’t know what we endured to make it to this moment. This is just a charade. We are being paraded.”

Not her words but her tone struck something in him. For all her wildness, Celeste saw him clearly. Perhaps more clearly than he sometimes saw himself.

“I am here with you,” she promised again. “As I have always been.”

He let himself lean into her touch then, just slightly. Enough to allow himself a breath that didn’t carry the weight of obligation. For a moment, the noise of the ballroom faded. The clinking of glasses, the rustle of dresses and clicking of heels, the hollow laughter...all of it receded, like wind through distant trees.

And in its place, her touch. Her presence.

In his heart, he offered silent thanks to Silvanus, the Oak Father, for guiding her path across his. For planting her like a sapling beside him, wild and untamed, with roots strong enough to hold him steady.

He had rarely spoken the truth of his love aloud. But in moments like these, it didn’t need words.

Some things grew best in shared silence.

and, because I am a big fan of non-sexual intimacy

Doing each others hair - Celeste and Shadowheart

The world had paused.

Not for long, not for good, but long enough to let the stillness in. Long enough for the rain to wait, the wind to hush, and the war drums of tomorrow to fall silent.

Celeste sat on a weathered log, her lute cradled in her lap, her fingers absentmindedly tracing out a tune . The melody was low, meandering, not quite joyful, not quite sad, just there, steady and soft.

Shadowheart knelt before her, arms full of combs and brushes, bottles of oil and balm. She set them down one by one, each with a reverence that made Celeste raise an amused brow.

“You know I don’t care about these things,” she said, lips curled into a half-smile, her fingers never missing a note.

Shadowheart didn’t rise to the bait. She only smirked and said, “And I’ll argue that our dear leader can’t very well go around with dull, lifeless, and uncombed hair.”

“If you say so,” Celeste muttered with mock offence, scooting down obediently on the log. Her smile deepened when she felt Shadowheart settle behind her with all the grace of someone who had done this many times before.

Then came the fingers, slow and sure, parting her long black hair with the patience of a gardener tending sacred vines. Celeste closed her eyes, the quiet music of her lute filling the space as Shadowheart began her familiar ritual.

Comb first. The one with the wide teeth to untangle.

Then the finer one. To smooth.

Then the brushes, each with a different purpose: boar bristle, wood paddle, soft goat hair for shine. Shadowheart worked with devotion and certainty, each stroke pulling Celeste deeper into the stillness.

Celeste leaned into it, leaning into her, the careful touch, the quiet knowing. The song she played shifted, slower now, more mournful. A lullaby for no one. A requiem for the woman she used to be, maybe. A prayer for the woman she was becoming.

She didn’t know who used to do this for her. The memory was gone - erased or locked behind the walls of her mind. But the way her body responded, the way her muscles eased, her breath deepened, it spoke of ancient familiarity. Someone had done this. Someone had once loved her hair enough to care for it like this, had once loved her enough to care for her like this.

And now, it was Shadowheart. No ceremony. No demands. Just a steady hand and quiet presence. A woman who knew better than to ask if she was alright.

Celeste didn’t sing. The song didn’t need words.

She drifted. Not quite safe, not quite whole, but content.

Even if only for a moment. Before Shadowheart would ask her to return the favor and Celeste would need detailled instructions.

#intimacy prompts #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfiction #oc: celeste

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ahamkara-apologist · 7 months ago

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people gotta start thinking critically about destiny's conflicts. of course the vanguard is on the side of the 'good guys' a lot of the time due to the witness going "its shaping time" and witnessing all over the place but there's been a good many times it's just been a war. a bloody, painful war where two sides fought only for survival. both sides did pretty horrible things, because both sides believed the other had to be driven away or killed if there was any hope of survival. I wonder what things would have been like if the factions had come across golden age earth, though- maybe there would have been next to no fighting at all, and the eliksni would have been allies way earlier

no fr, people need to understand that the issue with the Eliksni-Human wars is that they were both about survival, rather than how the rest of the conflicts we experienced worked. With Ghaul, it was about conquest. With the Witness, it was about preventing the total extinction of the known universe. But with the Eliksni, it was always about survival. Raiding gangs hit human civilizations not because of pure malice, but because the Eliksni were just as starved for resources as we were after the collapse. This isn't to say that they didn't also kill out of cruelty, because of course many of them did, but killing human children because the alternative is starvation for your own hatchlings is not some great transgression like people paint it as. It's just life in a time of great scarcity. It's only a step above simple predation, and that does not account for the massive scope of retaliation that humankind did in return. As far as I'm concerned, we're equally matched in terms of awful shit being done to each other

I was just reading the Stolen Intelligence and it starts off with the account of a Hidden agent who was speaking about the need to prevent Eliksni unification, how the near-complete collapse of their society was a good thing for the goal of eradicating them from Sol, and which Eliksni in particular needed to be destroyed to prevent Eliksni reunification. Granted, this was from Season of the Drifter, so it's outdated, but even accounting for human-Eliksni aggression, its fucking horrifying to hear about a people who only came to Sol because of the near-complete annihilation of their home planet. Here are the excerpts.

The recent trending emergence of so-called "crime syndicates" (cf. report #004-FALLEN-SIV) is emblematic of the continuing destructuralization of Fallen society. Likely an artifact of multi-generational colonization of human strongholds, this agent believes that because these syndicates have no relation to indigenous Fallen culture, young Fallen are appropriating and imitating human mythology in absence of a strong cultural heritage of their own. Much like the dissolution of the Kell/Archon theology, this is positive news for those interested in the complete extirpation of invasive Fallen from the system.

This isn't about settling a war, this is about extermination of a species through cultural genocide. But wait, let's hear what this agent has to say about Misraaks. You know, our buddy Misraaks? Our best dude that we're working our asses off trying to save?

VIP #3987, another former confederate of the Awoken, is a lesser-known personality known as Mithrax. Scattered field reports suggest that like #1121, #3987 styles himself a Kell of the so-called "House Light," an otherwise unknown House apparently founded by #3987 himself. We have secondhand accounts that Mithrax has engaged in allied operations with Guardians in the field, though we have not as yet been able to corroborate these accounts with any degree of veracity. This agent is inclined to treat these reports with a healthy degree of skepticism until otherwise confirmed, as they may be propaganda from Fallen sympathizers in the Old Russian and Red War Guardian cohorts. We have requested intelligence records from the Awoken which may further clarify the matter. In addition, whatever the findings of said intelligence records may be, it should be stressed that one or two sympathetic outliers cannot be relied upon to erase the wrongs of past centuries, nor should their good-faith efforts to correct the sins of their forebears be taken as sufficient symbolic reparation.

Charming. This is bad enough, but listen to what they had to say about Eramis. Now try to tell me again that she's being a bitch for not trusting us, when this was how they were speaking about her barely a few years before she was captured by us in Revenant.

VIP #2029, a once-known personality known as Eramis, or Eramis, the Shipstealer. A House Devils Baroness incarcerated during the Wolf Wars, #2029 successfully fled the Prison of Elders during the mass escape orchestrated by #1121. #2029 is a classical Fallen pirate of the old ways: vicious, uncompromising, and possessing cunning of the highest degree. Field reports indicate that she is rallying violent dissidents to reconstruct House Devils from the ground up. This agent believes her to be the most viable candidate for universal Fallen reunification, and would urge the Vanguard and other interested leadership to aggressively prioritize her destruction. We have come too far to pull our punches now.

This goes beyond simple warfare. The Eliksni did not hold any sufficient power to actually destroy the Last City since the Final Attempt. This Hidden agent wanted complete annihilation. This is talking about going around a beaten-down people that barely holds any more legitimate threats to the Last City and systematically wiping out any attempt for them to even reform their society on the minute basis that they might be able to mount an attack. This is calling for the utter annihilation of a society that suffered an apocalypse that was quite possibly worse than what we suffered in the Collapse, after they were already beaten.

Like, idk, maybe I'm just being extra sensitive bc I live in America, but family is Iranian, so I've been hearing our government talk about how they need to eradicate Middle Eastern threats before they ever come to fruition. But like. Holy fucking shit. We were not the good guys in this scenario. This doesn't make the Eliksni the saints, either, but it's very, very fucking clear that we weren't fighting for the greater good, either. There is no reason that military operations should ever go this far when the enemy is already as good as defeated. It's frankly a fuckin' miracle that any Eliksni are putting any faith in us at all, and it's really only because there's no other option at this point than to try to cozy up to our good side to avoid annihilation.

#destiny 2 #lore post #destiny 2 meta #anon #reply #also ive said it before and ill say it again: remember that salvation honoured our surrender? and we didn't? lmao #obv there's a bunch of horrid people on both sides but still. jesus christ

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untolduttering · 10 months ago

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I also want to talk about this specific quote

Kell shook himself, not wanting to think about the man who’d raised him, and yet had never seen him as a son. The king who’d fallen, along with so many, at Osaron’s hands, and forced Rhy, too soon, onto the throne.

Because Maxim is suuuch an interesting and complex character, and a great example of how you cannot be a good king, a good father, and a good person all at once. A good father and person would have taken Kell in as a son immediately. But as a king, Kell was a fantastic pawn, weapon and protector for his son, one that he could not possibly pass up if he wanted his kingdom to do well. Kell could not be a prince and a protect Rhy, he could not be a son and protect Rhy. So he had to pick. Which falls out of good person and into, maybe, good father and into good king.

And that’s just one instance of decision making on his part. He’s never been able to make a real decision for just himself. It was always him, his wife and son, his palace, an entire population of a country. How do you balance that? You can’t. He had to fail his son and wife to help his people. He had to fail Kell to help his son and wife. And if he took even a moment to regret it, everything crumbles.

Such, SUCH, an interesting guy. It also attests to Schwab’s ability to write realistic people, because not a single character can be described as purely good. They all have done something that puts them into the “all over bad, irredeemable person” category, but they’re still good people. It’s never that simple. They cannot be fully forgiven, but they’re still them, and we’ve gotta move on. Holland is her best example, and perhaps I should deep dive on him for my own pleasure, we’ll see. Also Emira’s whole thing with being forced into motherhood and queendom?? Oh my god. There’s just so much here.

#tftop #tftop spoilers #the fragile threads of power #the fragile threads of power spoilers #maxim maresh #kell maresh #emira maresh #rhy maresh #adsom #a darker shade of magic #a darker shade of magic spoilers #adsom spoilers

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meli-writes · 9 months ago

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Bitch Devourer - Ch. 03

(First) / (Previous)

/// CW: hardcore scene, drug & alcohol addiction, captivity. ///

Kell Kinroth, Callsign: Bitch Devourer, scrunched the rolled-up papers — produced from bio-engineered colony crop too contaminated by munitions for human consumption — with a precious relief, finally bearing the verdant stamp of ‘Approved.’

They pushed the code-cylinder into the door with a flourish — it was a security measure they didn’t need anymore, which had taken hours for Kell to impress on the Tribunal.

Or months — if Kell counted the many days other than that final hearing today.

Would the ex-Yeoman still be The Cavalier now? Or, maybe, just another pilot — keeping to Kell’s demilance while the militia found their trust in her, while she found it in herself.

And she could get back in her fucking Cavalry and they could finally go — together.

The door slid open. Niamh was lying there, fallen from their bed.

And Kell knew it wouldn’t be today.

They placed the papers at the door, and knelt down to unwrap the chain twisting messily around her neck. It’s lengthened, generously, and only there when they’re not. But it’s still there — precluding an escape she doesn’t want to make again.

“Aren’t you going to take me — Sir?” she slurs, with nowhere else to go.

Kell picks up the empty bottle — rice wine looted from abandoned villages, seeping into the sheets she’s brought to the floor. It’s where I belong, she might say, stinking with it. And when she doesn’t get the response she wants, she adds with a vicious lick— “Bitch.”

---

It’d been easy to justify — the personal touch. Niamh’s loyalty was dependent on Kell, they never denied that. But she was trying, listening intently to the resocialist theories of their up-gunned book club, she just did her best with ears squeezed between Kell’s thighs.

And now there were engineers spilling from the Torastan’s equipment support deck, the landed carrier that shadowed the base, fawning over her Heirloom like courtly ladies.

(“She’s got a gun — behind you,” Niamh indicated, wariness dulled by a comedown.) (“Yep, cos I didn’t want to be the one holding it, Empire.” Kell clutched her hand and brought it to a panel. “Shiv just wants ya to key the ident, then she can test. It’ll help — I promise.”)

They were all desperate to see the newly-repaired Vibrocannon — that’d once nearly processed Kell into paste inside their own cockpit — now in Third Revolutionary service.

---

Kell had been saving it for a special moment — for now, really — but it’s all gone.

And she is gone too. To the one place she can still go.

And it is — guiltily — a familiar sight.

“Hey, Empire — back up on the bed, okay?”

Before Kell can even take her hand, she’s done it herself. “Yes — Sir.” It is too fast.

She bruises her wrist on the flat-pack frame, her hand tearing open to drop a canister into Kell’s hands. It is not from the infirmary — it is Empire, from her One-Shot.

(Because there isn’t a synthetic replacer for stabiliser; not one that is less affecting, nor one safer. There’s just more fucking moll — a bit less each time, till there’s none.)

“Livestock tried to runaway again — don’t you want to fuck it, back into its place, Sir?”

Niamh is supposed to be at 10mg now. Kell turns the canister over. It is 50mg. But they have to confirm it — how much was left. “Sheep. Bleat for me,” they command.

“Maaaa—” Niamh would hate this and she doesn’t. She obeys, she laughs — choking on sobs and spittle. “Look, Sir! See how it wants it, even if it hurts, even if it can’t think.”

“Makin’ ya sheep-bleat is one thing.” And I’m gonna make it your callsign, trust me. “But I don’t wanna mess with ya right now — it’s not fun, Empire.”

Kell was still realising, the less she was Empire, the more she was just the scared, abandoned Yeoman that needed to know someone wanted her. But Kell wasn’t messing with their enemy anymore, but with their friend. Or, something worse than that now.

They coaxed her to lie down — for now they just needed her to stop — unlocking the ankle cuff to toss it aside. “We can talk when you’re better, ya know?”

Fear tracked across her vision and, unsure about her own unfettering, pushed herself back up while frustrating Kell’s attempts to wordlessly keep her there. “No, I—”

“Empire,” snapped Kell, trying to get her to stop without forcing her. “Why do you want it?”

She bunched a pillow in her hands. “B-because you’re here and that means I’m safe. And then you’re not and every time the door opens—”

It’s her nightmare, the one she’s had a dozen times, dancing now across dilated retinas. She doesn’t know what it means to leave, to go, except to— “I’m dragged in front of a wall, and those lovely subcommanders of yours blast my brains out for a propaganda film. Because I’m not useful to them, not like they want me to be. Like I can be, for you.”

“Hey — you’re not going anywhere. We’re not—"

They sighed, gear-shifting their expectations for today.

Kell needed it, they both did. And Niamh pulled in closer — guided by Kell’s hands — till she was firmly, warmly cradled. “I know a way in which you can be very useful.”

One last time wouldn't hurt — but only a little. “You do, you do?” she chirped.

Kell had lied to her, over and over now — it was fun to see her like this, admitting her secret desires through gritted teeth and spinning eyes. But Kell knew now — why they liked it; it was victory, not control. They liked Niamh choosing to rely on them. Need them.

(Maybe that’s what made Kell feel useful.)

So right now they needed her to ride it out, because addiction suppressant was useless for this, and another antagonist — at this dose — would serve only to violently exhume her guts.

That’s if the wine wasn’t going to do that on its own.

“Being ever so pretty,” they responded at last, pulling her shorts away and grasping at her, finding an overclocked, overheated hard-point — desperate for its mounting.

But all Kell could fit was a finger and thumb, pulling back and forth slowly, squeezing gently whenever they reached top. “And making such pretty noises for me.”

“Maaaa,” she bleated again — turning her fluffy, ginger curls into Kell and chewing at balled knuckles, before then reaching out, anxiously, for the little kisses Kell dishes out like a love-fed Autocannon, before another misfiring attempt to soothe her.

“Ya know the worst that woulda happened?” they asked. She knows — and Kell knows it won’t fix her problem. “Ya sit in the POW camp while Blackford finishes collapsing in on himself, and we send ya home.”

For a modest fee, missing the Heirloom that is your heart — Kell does not add.

Niamh bucked into their grasp, desperate to feel the joystick twiddled more and faster. So Kell held them tighter, well-briefed otherwise that such misappropriated equipment will take hours to operate correctly — if they let it.

Though Niamh would let it happen, she offered her-entire-self every time — begged to swear loyalty with her ass. But Kell kept pushing it back.

How did you break someone to be a partner, not a subject?

Because Kell never learned how to fix things — certainly not people. They didn’t make armaments for that. So, for now, Kell insisted only on her pleasure and maybe, at most, helping them, rarely — sheltering her in wetted trenches.

“You don’t need to be useful,” they cooed.

“Nooo— I do. Please let me keep it — Sir.” Niamh couldn’t believe them, not now. “Then you’d know I’d follow your orders, and you could trust me, and maybe then you could—”

She hadn’t ever lived without being useful — didn’t know what it meant.

Niamh stirred, the pleasing dullness in her head, a blossom of cold, terrified honesty, ejected as she fucking exploded — dumping hot, white shrapnel all over, then writhing indignantly in her own mess. “—fuck, then maybe you could keep me.”

“Empire— the Tribunal approved you. You’re not— hey!”

They leant back, running a hand over her hot-blooded cheeks, while she was already trying to run away again. Where ya gonna go?

“Empire—”

“No! No Empire!” she shrieked — before falling away, in shock, desperate to diminish herself. “I’m not— I don’t want to be Empire anymore.”

Kell could see the phosphate-flash in her eyes, followed then by the smouldering wreck of another self-debasing idea she’d devised. “Let me speak to them, my family — I’ll abdicate. And they’ll hate me, and never want see me again, and—”

She wouldn’t stop.

Kell knew it wouldn’t be today.

So they gave up, and got up, and left her stranded for a moment — shivering, and still muttering — before re-engaging with a warm, damp towel. Replaced then, after clean-up, with the soft, little shark she clung to when Kell was gone.

(Their militia always brought toys — at least one crate — for lost kids and now especially pathetic defectors. Kell had to be careful not to mention that all ninety-nine of its fellows had been scorched by back-mounted mortar bypassing the point-defence.) (Niamh already felt guilty about the little she knew she’d done, with 40 tons of Heirloom steel. Kell didn’t need her to realise she was responsible for 18 kilos of scorched stuffie, especially after letting her hoard the 190 grams of slight-singed lone-survivor.)

She held it close — so close Kell worried she’d tear it apart. And Kell held her close, and worried the same.

And she wouldn't stop, but Kell just let her ride it out.

---

When Kell rebooted, Niamh hadn’t retreated. She was exactly where they’d left her.

Dozen Hells did they give this bitch an ankle chain for?

They rose slowly, laying her down beside them, carefully entwining their fingers before snatching the toy from her hands, waking her with a wretched fright.

“What’re you— give him— give Filib back!” she groaned, octaves kneeling lower than she did.

“Oh — he has a name now? Guess this one is gonna hurt.”

Kell didn’t torment her — they didn’t. So Niamh didn’t know to brace for whatever mean trick this would be. “W-what do you mean, hurt?”

“Sponsor Kell Kinroth, for the Defector Niamh Gilios, issuing a disciplinary action,” they purred, clearly swept up in the idea. “Infraction; usage of withheld contraband — namely, combat stabilisers smuggled from the Defector’s Cavalry.”

Niamh held her tongue, posted it between her teeth, unsure as to whether it was best to flick words of anger or apologia.

“Response; withdrawal of Defector-issued comfort unit for three weeks.”

“What!? Nooo— Kell! You can’t be serious. I thought— didn’t you say I got approved?” She got up on her knees, hands clutched a shark-toy-sized distance from her breast. “I didn’t fucking imagine that, okay. I don’t have a sponsor anymore, right?”

“Only when you sign the papers.”

Kell turned to the door — permanently thumbing away the security lock.

“And ya still got me for probation, so I gotta take it seriously don’t I?”

Niamh’s head rolled and jittered like malfunctioning point-defence, but Kell couldn’t see it.

“I’ll bring him back early — if you’re good,” they teased, as it opened.

“Please—”

“—Kell.”

Niamh edged off the bed — hesitant towards the spectre of the ankle chain — and clutched at Kell’s arm, bracing the shivers in her hands.

“I-I don’t want to be left alone — when you’re gone.”

Kell could’ve slipped their grasp, been callous about it and would’ve months ago, but—

“Shit, I wasn't really gonna— sorry Em— Niamh.”

They pivoted back to face her, stepped in a smidgen to let the door close and picked up the appeal papers to press them into her hands. “Revision; withdrawal for 10 minutes.”

They pantomimed out one of Filib's fins for her to fleetingly hold on to her.

“Ya know, while I go fetch more suppressant from the infirmary, and you sign the papers. Just rememberin’ — I pick your callsign.”

Niamh let go, rolling her eyes and unfurling the document — only a little bothered she wouldn’t get to try killing this one again.

“Yes — Sir.”

---

(Masterpost)

originally written on cohost 20/01/2024, in response to Make Up A Criminal's prompt:

Rebel who is dragging you back through the trenches

#8 minute read #meli-val.rtf #meli-val.doc #scifi #mechsploitation #phillip posting #kayspace #sublimatic rose

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