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marshmallow-phd · 3 months

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A Manor of Shadow and Blood

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won’t let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

The grand hall was lit as bright as midday. Every surface was polished to perfection, reflecting the candlelight at a greater force. Brilliant brass and gold surrounded you as you made your way through the dancing couples, their movements in perfect sync. Wrapped in each other's arms, they spin around without a care for your wandering presence.

While all who surrounded you were decorated in blacks and whites, your own dress was the color of freshly spilled blood. The heavy skirts that hug from your waist made it difficult to navigate the ballroom. Their fullness was of an older fashion, one that maybe your grandmother would have worn in her youth. The dropped shoulders left you exposed, your skin chilled despite the amount of bodies in here.

You kept navigating the dance floor, on the look out for something, though you didn’t know what. Then you felt the familiar burn of eyes boring into your back, which sent a shiver down your spine. You whirled around to find the source, the dress brushing at your feet with the sudden motion. Through the crowd, you spotted Baekhyun leaning against the wall. With a single finger, he beckoned you over. And you obeyed.

Breaking through the sea of dancers, you took in his elegant suit, the hems lined with gold thread that shimmered against black velvet.

"You shouldn't dance alone," he purred. Arms crossed over his chest, he smirked at you with a grin even the devil wouldn't wear.

"I have no partner," you retorted. He held out a lazy hard. Hardly the romantic gesture. "No, thank you."

"How about me?" asked a sweet voice in your ear.

You turned your head to find Junmyeon at your back. He laid a soft hand on your hip to keep you from escaping out of propriety. When you didn’t shove him away, the hand slyly moved to your stomach, pulling your bare shoulder blades into his chest. With the fingers of his left hand, he tilted your chin towards him.

"Am I a suitable partner?"

No answer passed your lips. You could think of nothing to say. The thought of him twirling you around the dance floor was not… unpleasant.

Junmyeon neither needed nor cared for a reply. He dipped his head to your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the skin. A small gasp passed your lips. And then he pressed another. More and more as he climbed up the curve of your neck. Heat rose from every inch of you as you sighed into the affectionate touches. You relaxed into his touch, welcoming each new contact of his lips.

"It's rude not to share, Junmyeon.”

Your attention snapped back to Baekhyun, who you had forgotten was there. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to you so he stood in front of the minor.

No, not a mirror. There was no reflection.

Except… there was. The mirror reflected the floor, the ceiling, the candlelight. You.

But not Baekhyun. Not Junmyeon. And not the dancers still spinning behind you.

Fingers snaked through your hair and pulled your head back, your vulnerable neck exposed. From the gallery above, Kyungsoo watched as elongated fangs flashed behind Junmyeon’s lips and plunged into your neck.

*****

You woke with a start, the blanket flying off of you as you sat up in a fury. Sweet drenched every pore of your skin. Your day old dress clung to your skin in a way that felt suffocating. Each breath was a struggle for your lungs.

Vampires. The nightmarish tale that had kept you up as a child until you were convinced they weren't real turned out to be true. But how could they be real?

Creatures of the night. Blood drinkers. Horror stories meant to keep children from wandering about after dark.

Curling your legs to your chest and encasing them in your arms, you tried to think of a way out. To escape. With what strength you possessed, you slid off the bed and walked over to the window. The sun, so bright and full of life, was just beginning its descent towards the horizon. Night–their domain–was hours away. If the legends were true, then they would all be asleep at this moment. Any risk that was to be taken had to be taken now.

After changing into a sturdier dress, you retrieved your still mud-covered boots and, keeping them in one hand, you carefully pushed away the pathetic barrier and snuck out of the room.

Each step was taken with unmatched caution. You tested every board with your foot before fully committing. Any squeak of a floor or stumble down a stair could alert them to your escape. But by the grace of a miracle, you made it to the front door. Fingers trembling, you pulled on the boots and tied up the laces before opening the door only wide enough for you to slink through.

The next breath taken outside was like the first breath of life. But there was no time to take it in.

Gathering your skirts in your grip, you took off into the trees. The dirt was dry and sturdy under your feet. Branches and leaves crunched with the weight of your boots. A lady’s delicacy was out of the question as you ran without abandon. You didn't know what direction you were running. But vampires needed blood to survive and they weren’t drinking yours. And Jongdae had brought those buns from a bakery, not their own kitchen. You doubted any of them knew how to cook. That meant a village or town had to be nearby. Junmyeon had lied about the isolation of the manor. If you just kept going, you could find freedom.

However, your stamina was running out. This was never your preferred activity. Your lungs and throat burned in an unfamiliar way. The sun still shined above. A short respite could be spared.

You leaned against a tree trunk for support. In your boots your feet pulsed. Only now did you realize that you had run away without food or water. Not knowing where the kitchen was located, you didn't have time to waste on it. You could survive, you told yourself. Just a little farther. The town couldn’t be too far. Unless you were headed in the wrong direction.

A rustling rippled through the silent forest. You snapped to attention, trying to find the source.

“The wind,” you gasped between ragged breaths. “It had to be the wind.”

A low, rumbling growl said it wasn't wind.

In the distance, large silhouettes emerged. Wolves. Nearly a dozen of them.

You ran as fast as your crying legs could take you. With their superior nature built for the hunt, the wolves caught up to you within seconds. Their growls and howls grew louder and more threatening behind you. Running from the manor had been easy. Running from the wolves was to be your end.

Powerful paws slammed into your back. You were thrown to the ground, rolling across the ground as a scream ripped at your throat. The momentum stopped you on your stomach. Hair covered your face, but you could still see your death through the strands.

Wolves of gray and black gathered in a half moon circle. They had their prey in perfect position. The middle wolf pounced. All you had time to do was throw up your arms to protect your face. Claws raked across your forearm. Another scream echoed through the merciless trees. The wolf landed on the other side of you with pride. Now you were surrounded. A second wolf leapt.

A blur appeared in front of you and collided with the wolf midair. The two bodies tumbled across the forest floor. A human and the wolf.

Not a human.

Chanyeol. The wolf trapped within his grasp, Chanyeol tightened his grip–

Crack.

The wolf fell limply to the ground, its tongue hanging from its jaw.

The others appeared seconds later. Not understanding what they were up against, the wolves let you go to attack the newest threat.

"Are you alright?" Junmyeon knelt down in front of you. His hands were outstretched as if you were the wild animal on the verge of attack. Behind him, snarls and whimpers told of the fight–and who was winning. Despite not answering him, he caught sight of your bleeding arm. "We need to get back to the manor."

He didn't ask permission before picking you up into his arms and sprinting through the forest. Everything blurred past you, your loose hair whipping at your face. He burst through the manor doors and didn't stop until he was able to set you down in the largest chair. Once you were safe, he fell to his knees, only his palms keeping him upright. The others soon stumbled in behind him, heaving and collapsing onto the floor. Only then did you notice the smoke floating up from each of their backs. Patches of burnt, red skin sizzled on their knuckles and faces. Anything that had been exposed to the sun.

"Baekhyun," Junmyeon gasped.

"I already have it." Kyungsoo came into the parlor with bottles stacked in his arms. He quickly passed them around, waiting until the others were quenching their thirst before pulling the cork out of his own bottle and chugging the contents.

With his bottle empty, Junmyeon tossed it to the side and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Red smears stained the ivory fabric. You shrank back in the chair as he turned towards you.

"What hell were you thinking!" He growled. "I warned you about the wolves!"

"Junmyeon, she's shaken up enough," Jongdae defended. Before your eyes, his burnt skin healed to be like new.

"She could have been killed!"

Your head was pounding. He was… concerned about your life? The legends said that the sun was a vampire's deadliest enemy. It was why they thrived in the darkness. But they had all risked a final death to come after you.

"Did you hear me scream?" you whispered. You could barely feel your own lips moving. All heads tuned to you.

Yixing was the one to answer. "Yes. We all heard you."

"Why were you out there?" Sehun asked aggressively.

You sucked in a sharp breath. There was no escaping the truth now. You stared at Jongdae. "I figured it out.”

Baekhyun laughed. "At least we don't have to walk around delicately anymore."

"When exactly did you do so?" Minseok mocked.

"Then you should remember what I said to you before was true. Harm would not come to you within these walls." Junmyeon crouched down next to the chair. His eyes... there was something behind the darkness that tugged at your still wildly beating heart. "I know you were running away. And if you're desperate to get away enough to get yourself killed, then the choice can be yours. We can send you on your way with every provision. Or," he cleared his throat, "you stay here. With us."

A choice? He was giving you a choice?

Your gaze drifted over the faces that stared back at you. Even Kyungsoo refused to look away while he waited. There was almost a plea in his expression, a subtle beg. But was it to stay? Or for you to run as far away as possible?

Junmeyon took your attention away when he picked up your wounded arm with delicate fingers. His pleading was much more clear.

To leave would be the better choice. The more sane choice. But what would happen afterwards? You could claim being lost in the woods. With evidence of the carriage and the missing driver, what else could they believe? After a few days on bed rest, you would be back by your aunt's side, following her every whim. Including indulging her on a "perfectly adequate" suitor because you had no other option, no other path. That suitor who would then become your future. But you didn't want it. You refused to give in to it.

Already within these few days, you were… changed in a way. They might not be human, but these men would forever be burned into your memory. Who could move you with music the way Chanyeol had? What silent strength could match the aura of Junmyeon? You had been promised that none of them would harm you. The chance for something extraordinary was right in front of you. The kind of chance you had only read about. It just had to be taken.

"I think… I think I want to stay."

*****

The moon became an ever changing friend. You hardly saw the sun anymore. Like the men you had given yourself over to, you lived under the stars. It was oddly beautiful. This time was often forgotten about by you and many others. The night was only a background to your time within your dreams. But now it was your entire world.

Every evening, you awoke to the dying orange light of the day. Breakfast always waited for you outside the door. It was the rule that no one broke; none could enter your room without explicit permission from you. Those walls remained your safe haven when things grew too overwhelming.

Despite your decision to stay, discovering that other creatures walked the earth required a step away once in a while. Especially now, with you aware of their true nature, the men were refusing to hold back.

Dropping from the roof, running around with spectacular speed, and lifting objects that ten men couldn't hold. It was remarkable. Except for the diet and inability to walk in the sun, the… condition seemed more like a blessing.

"You're rather thoughtful this evening,” Jongdae commented. He walked beside you like he did every twilight.

After you finished your breakfast, you met Jongae at the front doors to go on a walk around the manor grounds. Often others would join you as well. Junmyeon was the most frequent, though Yixing, Changed, and Jongin made many appearances over the past week and a half. Boundaries were constantly tested, but one word from you and they retreated.

"I guess you could say I am thoughtful tonight," you finally sighed. You hadn’t realized that you were being so obviously quiet. Funny, since you would have thought Jongdae would enjoy the silence. You typically had many questions or comments of your own to make.

"Should I go steal a penny from Sehun?"

You laughed. "I'd like to think my thoughts are worth more than a single penny.”

"They must be if you've become so skilled in deflecting from them." He crossed over to block your path. Gaze narrowed, he studied your carefully guarded expression. "What are you thinking about so hard? Regretting your decision to stay already?"

"No," you insisted. "Not at all."

He raised an eyebrow that simply asked, "Then what?"

"Do you always stay here?" you countered. "At the manor, I mean."

"We travel," Jongdae answered with a nod. "Not too often. It’s a bit difficult, you see."

"But we like traveling north.” Minseok dropped from who-knew-where, landing with barely bent knees and hands folded behind his back. "In the winter, the night lasts longer. Junmyeon has a small hunting lodge up there.

A hunting lodge? "Then why do you stay here?"

Minsoek shrugged. "This manor is bigger."

"Having nine of us in one household can be a bit volatile,” Jongdae added. He stepped aside to continue the stroll. "We need the room to separate so we don't level a building."

Your foot caught on an invisible lump in the grass. "You could destroy a building while fighting?"

Minseok snickered as he caught your stumble and helped steady your stance. His hand lingered at your waist until your sharpened glare made him remove it. "We haven’t crumbled a wall in a few years."

You scoffed at the casual tone. "What sort of fight caused that?"

"I can't remember." Minseok leaned forward slightly to look at Jongdae for help. But he didn't seem to recall either.

"Who knows what started it between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had fought over something to the point of destroying a wall to crumble? It didn't feel plausible. Neither seemed like the hot-headed sort. You wanted to know the igniting incident so desperately.

Both Jongdae and Minseok suddenly whipped their heads towards the front of the manor.

"What is it?" you asked when neither offered an explanation.

"Junmyeon's calling for us." Jongdae scooped you up into his arms without warning. At your confused expression, he explained, "We're not leaving you alone out here." Remember your last adventure in the woods lingered in the silence.

The short lived wind whipped at your hair that you still wore loose to cover your neck. As soon as he stopped running, you wiggled out of his arms to be back on your feet. Everyone else was already gathered just outside the door. Several eyed you and Jongdae with suspicious and annoyed glares. You took a step away from him for some separation.

Clearing his throat, Junmyeon called everyone to attention. "We have to go hunting–real hunting. Now, normally, we all go together, but now that we have our guest," he nodded towards you, "some will have to stay behind with her until the first party… comes back."

"If you all need to go,” you couldn't quite speak the word feed, "then I'll be alright. For a few hours, at least." You weren't sure how long this excursion would take.

Junmyeon's features softened. "No. We'll go in groups. Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, Minseok and I will go first. We shouldn't be gone long." He reached out and patted the top of your head before disappearing into the trees. Kyungsoo gave no goodbye as he followed suit. The last two playfully shoved each other while taking off.

"Come." Yixing took hold of your hand and started pulling you inside. "I want to show you something."

"But–" You had wanted to ask Jongdae a question, but the traitor was already gone, off somewhere to do something he would never tell you about. So, you let Yixing take you into the manor and up the main staircase at the end of the hallway. At least he let you stay on your own feet instead of insisting on going at his speed.

Going down an unfamiliar hallway, you were reminded how big this place was and how much you still had to explore. The men occupied most of your time, vying for your attention and pulling you this way and that so you didn’t have much time on your own. It was odd and overwhelming at times.

During your seasons in town, you were hardly a well-sought after prize. There were prettier girls with grander dowries. You had accepted that fact. Now you were the center of a courting dance to which you knew none of the steps and possessed endless partners.

Yixing paused in front of a door that looked identical to all the others. He kept his fingers tight around yours as he slowly turned the knob with his free hand. The door swung open.

The gasp inhaled through your parted lips wasn't enough to convey your awe.

Maps of all the places you'd heard of and dozens more you hadn't covered the walls like homemade wallpaper. Slipping out of Yixing's grip, you walked further into the study, spinning slowly around to take it all in. The maps were varying degrees of tan, some as light as his skin, others as dark as animal leather.

Instead of bookshelves, doorless cabinets waist high lined three of the walls. Their squared shelves were stuffed full of parchment and ink and quills. A lone sketcher's desk sat in the middle, an unfinished drawing laying against the tilted surface.

"What is this place?"

"It's my personal study," Yixing answered as he laid a hand on the edge of the desk. "Kyungsoo gave it to me after I had accidentally taken over one of the parlors."

Your awe increased ten-fold. Your initial assumption was that he was a collector, not the original artist. "You drew all of these?"

He nodded almost... shyly. "I did. I was a cartographer. Before."

"Before?" You understood what he meant, but you didn't know how to ask for the story.

Turning his eyes to the parchment, he pinched it between his fingers. "I didn't just love traveling. I loved capturing it on paper. I wanted to make these places into art, but not like every other painting. I wanted them to be perfect. Exact replicas as if you were staying at them from God’s point of view. And I wanted to be the best. I couldn't be, though. I wasn’t good enough."

You moved closer to him, entranced in the story. "What happened?"

A rueful smile tightened at his lips. "I was given a chance to become perfect. What I didn't know was that I traded everyone knowing my maps for the talent to make it happen." Sorrow rolled from him like the tide warning of an oncoming storm.

Feeling the pull to comfort him, you reached out and covered his fidgeting hand with your own steady fingers.

"People will be able to know your work some day," you whispered. "I’m sure of it."

Perhaps you had been a bit too forward, a bit too open.

Yixing moved gracefully forward to eliminate most of the space between you. A smooth thumb that once must have been calloused when it was human caressed the edge of your jaw. His flickering eyes made intentions obvious.

Clearing your throat, you stepped out of the touch. "Why isn't this one finished?" You pointed to the drawing on the desk. It was an aerial view of the manor, with the top half of the parchment containing the beginning edges of the garden hedges. Disappointed, Yixing sighed and went along with your distraction.

"I'm still working out the maze. It is intricate. Much more than I was prepared for."

"Goodness." You were thankful that you hadn't wandered in there yet, especially on your own.

"Yixing.”

Both of you turned towards the door to find Sehun standing under the frame.

"Yes, Sehun?" Yixing said through somewhat gritted teeth. The young vampire wasn't phased.

"I need to speak with you."

"Fine." None of you moved.

Sehun looked at you with a pointed glare.

You received the hint loud and clear. "I'll leave you, then.”

With more relief than you cared to admit, you scurried out of the room and down the hallway.

Around the corner, you pressed your back against the wall and forced yourself to take deep breaths that filled your lungs to capacity. Panic had been the response at Yixing's closeness. You didn't mean for that to be the response. You didn't want to be closed off to any of them. But you couldn't help it. Maybe it was merely the closeness of the situation.

Giving yourself a small amount of grace, you pushed off the wall and made your way downstairs. So used to your time being absorbed by the men that you weren't sure what to do with yourself. Two of the ones that remained behind were currently occupied. As for the three others, they could have been anywhere.

You wandered around the main floor with a fleeting hope that one would come to find you. Then you saw them. A row of grand doors evenly spaced along the north wall called you forward.

The grand ballroom took your breath away. Not so dissimilar to the one in your dream, though this one’s lack of warmth and light left you heartbroken. Memories of dancing figures and lively music haunted these walls. In the corner, you could imagine a small orchestra strumming their instruments in delight.

You walked to the center where dozens of pairs used to twirl and bow and embrace each other in time with the melody. Ghostly laughter echoed in your ears. What had once been bright and golden and full of life was dull, dark, and covered in cobwebs that swayed in the breeze of unknown origin.

Glancing around, you confirmed that you were truly alone before closing your eyes, lifting your arms, and began a soft hum.

You danced with an invisible partner in the fashion that your grandfather had taught you as a small child. It was more intimate than the choreographed dances currently popularized. You had always imagined your first ball like this, instead of the disappointment you really experienced. You had pictured a boy you didn’t know catching your eye. As the music was struck up, he laid a hand on your waist.

Just like now.

Hm. Your imagination was running wild, even pretending the weight of a palm was there on your lower back. And now in your lifted left hand.

No. That wasn’t your imagination.

Your eyes snapped open.

Jongin had taken the place of your imagined partner. He smiled down at you with a feline smirk as his hands tightened around you, refusing to let you slip away. There was no choice in leaving this musicless dance. You had stopped humming but he continued to whirl you around the marble floor. He controlled the dance, in charge of every step. He led with an expertise he shouldn’t have possessed–if he were a man of this age.

In one final move, he slipped his arm fully around your waist, pulling you so close that no room remained between you. Without breaking the spin, he lifted you from the floor as if you were no more than a kitten and whirled you around like the heroine from your favorite novel.

When the spin came to a close, he set you back on your feet, but didn’t let go. Your lungs heaved from the exercise–and from the way your bodies pressed together. Each rise of your chest brought you even closer to Jongin. He kept your gaze like a stablehand trying to calm a wild horse. His right hand slipped from your fingers, softly tracing the delicate inside of your arm. The touch left behind a fire you couldn’t explain. A cold, simmering fire.

He cupped your jaw as his eyes drifted down to your lips. This was a different reaction to Yixing’s wandering gaze. Not panic, but something similar.

Jongin held you in place as he leaned down, his lips pressing gently into the corner of yours. The thin breath in your lungs hitched. He lifted his lips only to find a new patch of skin. The delicate skin covering your pulse. Every muscle in your body froze. He kissed the skin softly. Surely, he could feel the race of your blood.

“Whenever you need a partner,” he said in a hush against your neck, “just whisper my name.”

And then, he was gone.

You stared off at the empty path left behind Jongin. The sheer hubris.

His name lingered on your lips, wondering if he would really come back like he said. But you kept the whisper inside and left the ballroom just the same.

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saltineofswing · 28 days

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SHUFFLING DESTINY ENEMY GIMMICKS LIKE A DECK OF CARDS

Here’s a fun thought exercise for the discerning Destiny Lore Enjoyer™: What if you took the gimmicks of each enemy race and swapped them?

Here are the rules by which I loosely operated, in the sixty-ish seconds I spent thinking all this up:

The enemy race should remain broadly identifiable at a glance.

‘Gimmick’ herein references the aspect of the subject’s lore that dictates how they relate to themselves and wider universe (For example, the Cabal is a conquering empire that folds defeated client species into its dominion; the Fallen are desperate, disorganized scavengers; etc.), or maybe certain thematic elements.

Don’t think about it too hard.

Get weird with it.

And without further ado:

THE HIVE <--> THE CABAL: THE DOMINION OF THE WORM.

The Dominion are a vast assimilationist conglomerate of hundreds of different species the Hive have conquered and consumed. They are bonded not by common Krill ancestry, but by forced worm conversion; the bodies may appear different, sourced from different homeworlds, but the truth is that they are puppets for the Dominion’s true citizenry. Dominion morphs are based not on the instar system of an arthropod experiencing ecdysis, but on the life cycle of a parasitoid – they are alike to one another only in that there is a worm implanted where their brain should be, and it is slowly terramorphing their body into something more suitable to the Great Work, also known as the Sword Logic. At a certain threshold of age, the chitin-mold and fungal outgrowth has changed the host body dramatically enough to classify them as Knights or Wizards based on the worm that has infested them.

Different branches of the Dominion organize themselves into Courts; over centuries, worms of each Court have developed unique genetic tells in how they warp their hosts – patterns of color or chitin-mold, or predispositions to certain morphs. Acolytes still make up the bulk of the species’ fighting and civilian forces. After the implantation process (typically performed within two years of the birth of the host body) and lasting until approximate adolescence, Hive are wobbling, nascent, clumsy Thrall, still acclimating to the nervous system and motor functions of a still-growing host body. The oldest Dominion Knights and Wizards in existence, the pantheon of Gods that preserve the Wormlore and have transcended mortality by way of the Sword Logic, are the closest that the Dominion gets to ‘true’ expressions of the parasitoid race… and even then, each is unique unto themselves.

Don’t worry! By the time you would have been old enough to object to having a boring worm threaded into a trepanned hole in the back of your head, ‘you’ will have been the worm for a long time. It typically doesn’t grow big enough to burst through and replace the host’s cranium (If an endo- or exoskeleton is present) for six to eight years, but you wouldn’t mistake a Thrall for an un-infested counterpart of the same race. Think Cordyceps, or that old familiar snail parasite Broodsac. It is not infectious, as the ritual insertion of a wormling requires a sterile and calm environment as well as an actual staff of competent handlers… but it pays to be dead when the Hive are victorious over your poor, doomed race. They don’t want your secrets, they don’t need your intelligence or your memories, and they don’t need you to infiltrate and betray your people. They just want your brain. Or, rather, the real estate your brain occupies.

A Purist faction of Dominionists claim to be descendants of the original Krill, the long-extinct first peoples of the Dominion, and seek a way to purge the Worm-taint from their bloodline. The Purists are supposedly lead by one of the many Dominionist Gods, though which one and whether or not this is even true are subject to disparate rumor.

THE CABAL <--> THE HIVE: THE UNDYING EMPIRE.

Calus’s obsession with death and immortality has created a legion of the undead. The dead world of Torobatl is a planet of necropolises, stacked down to the core of the planet and then up to the stratosphere, their charnel war fleets staffed by psionic Liches mounted into powerful and gaudily gilded combat exoskeletons. Stasis was granted as a gift by the Darkness long ago; it allows the denizens of Torobatl to tether their souls to massive crystals – Phylacteries, in their buildings, their mausoleums, and their warships. And these Phylacteries are, in turn, tethered to the oversoul of God-King Calus, tithing him the experiences of his entire empire… the violence and the pleasure, and everything in between. When Cabal loves, Calus loves, and savors it. When Cabal hurts, Calus dies, and savors it. When Cabal dies, Calus devours – and your soul is folded wholly into his own. At the end of the universe, when there is nothing else, there will be Calus, and Calus will be everyone.

Warships and Seeder-Ziggurats, built around a Phylactery that serves as generator and Cryostasis and life support all in one, send a tide of undead out into any world that Calus desires for his Empire. The only way to kill them, of course, is to destroy the Phylactery in the warship. Or, cause fatal mental feedback by destroying the physical brain. Every Torobatlaan that has died since Calus instituted mandatory mummification rites is part of Calus’s devouring horde, representing a fighting force of at least several-trillion strong. Each Lich represents a soldier that can be sent into combat multiple times: first, in the hulking, bulbous, resplendent frames of Cabal Übercorpse legionnaires. Then, if the exoskeleton is damaged beyond repair, the Wight within may emerge, held aloft by its own Psionic might and wielding the death-cold touch of Stasis. Spare bodies, or bodies looted from the enemy, may afford a defeated Wight a second chance at corporeal un-life… assuming Calus values you more as servant than snack. The crème de la créme a la Calus, the Demiliches, are given their own discreet Phylacteries. Oftentimes these undying kings and queens of the Torobatlaan Necroworld have pared away the unnecessary portions of their bodies and reside in a crystal-encrusted skull – The rest of it is tithed lovingly to Calus. Let it never be said he does not reward dedication. All hail the new flesh.

Calus’s own daughter, by all rights a demigod, heads an underground insurgency within the Empire. The Living Resistance is small, scrappy, and fighting a losing battle – but they are always on the lookout for allies, and will take any advantage they can get.

THE FALLEN <--> THE VEX: THE ASCENDED.

When the Eliksni arrived in Sol, simultaneously chasing the Traveler and fleeing the Whirlwind, most of them first stopped at Neptune. They burned that world to the ground and ravenously devoured every scrap of technology they could get their hands on. And so, while the human race was wallowing in the mud during the Dark Age and their unlucky brethren were – also wallowing in that same mud, or pressed under the thumb of the Awoken – the Eliksni of once-Neomuna were… rapidly evolving. Achieving singularity, becoming one with their Servitors and Shanks and so much more. You know how those Eliksni enjoy their nanotechnology. By the time of the City Age, non-augmented Fallen are a rarity… but there is no shortage of Ascended, a collective consciousness dispensing sleek and sophisticated quick-fab machine bodies, controlled by telepresence, to every corner of the system. And where they go, infectious nanomachinery goes with them. Everything must Ascend. And so, everything must die.

to the Ascended, but it is not a cold, unfeeling machine-mind. It remembers its origins as an organic race. Remembers everything that was assimilated into it, really, with perfect computer clarity. It’s still young for a god-consciousness – far, far younger than the ancient Torobatlaan First Disciple or the Hive Conqueror-Pantheon. It relates to the natives of Sol; pities them, mostly. It is confused by the Exo, curious about the Awoken, and deeply embarrassed by the soft, squishy existence of humankind. It feels most strongly about its non-uplifted cousins: it loathes them. Despises them. The day when the last Eliksni hatchling is scanned and uploaded to the System, and its useless corporeal existence is squashed, can’t come too soon. Imagine the horror that the Iron Lords must have felt when the Fallen had finally been wiped out, and it turned out they were just running from something worse. A clean, smooth, white-paneled and gloss-coated mirror. The Ascended exists in networked systems across Sol, representing a cyber-threat that must continuously be monitored and combatted by technicians in the Last City and the Reef; when it has determined, via algorithm, an appropriate dispersal site, it sends a foundry through NLS – within hours of impact, an Ascended Nanofoundry can output a square quarter mile of nanite terraformer lattice and an army’s worth of construction, telecommunications, and servitor frames. These frames are not made for war! War is a consequence of the simplistic fear of a lesser entity. Of course, the equipment these frames use to perform their actual tasks are effective at discorporating non-augs. Sad, what is necessary in the pursuit of perfect oneness.

The remaining ‘Non-Aug’ Fallen of House Light live as Luddite ascetics, sheltering from the Ascended in the underground metro system beneath a run-down quarter of the Last City that was bombed out during the Undying Empire’s assault. They eschew all technology and networked communication as much as is possible – the more tech they use, the more likely it is that the Ascended will find them.

In the Reef, Eliksni augment themselves with crystal prosthetics. Better to submit themselves to the Queen’s will, and remain individuals, than be subsumed by the Ascended and lose themselves.

THE VEX <--> THE FALLEN.

Every encounter you have with the so-called ‘Fomorians’ is technically an encounter with the exact same crew of the exact same ship of scurrilous pirates, cast back through the Chronal Bleed from several hundred thousand years in the future. Or, a future, at least. The Foul Ship Gigantes has been making dives into the past for centuries. Or, well, actually, the ship has been making a single dive into the past, and arriving at disparate points in realspace nominal-present-time backwards along the timeline, scattered across the centuries. An unfortunate consequence of a bootleg of a stolen prototype of Braytech chronoaugural technology. Sometimes, even for Braytech, an idea is so half-cocked that it just can’t work. Imagine for a moment that you are Marcholles Antione Braythek IV (Pronounced ‘Marcus Anthony Braytech’), (in)famous pirate and disgraced son of the mighty Braythek Interstellar Dominion, and the weight of your family name inspires you to do reckless things in the pursuit of adding legends to your name. Imagine that you and your crew are maybe a little too desperate to become the first time-travelers in history. So, you use a bootleg of a stolen prototype and you don’t so much ‘travel’ through time as you do ‘smear’ through it. Look on the bright side: not only did you become the first successful time-travelers in existence, you also fuck up the laws of reality so bad that scientists in the past will designate the extradimensional skid-mark you leave through space-time as a ‘fundamental force in the cosmology of the universe.’ They call it ‘The Bleed,’ and researching it allows for the development of NLS travel. That first jump went extremely well! At least, it did from the perspective of the one version of Marcholles Antione Braythek IV that successfully made it to his destination – Humanity’s Golden Age, a couple decades before anybody had even heard the name ‘Bray’.

Funny, isn’t it? Marcholles Braythek thought he was a descendent of the most amazing tech empire in history. In actuality, he was his own great-great-great (repeating) grandfather. Another unfortunate consequence of bootleg Braytech chronoaugural technology.

I said something about ‘the one version’ of Marcholles Antione Braythek IV, didn’t I? Right. Well, when you travel through time, you leave from a single point in time and space, and arrive at a single point in time and space. But when you smear through time, you leave from a single point in time and space and you arrive at many points in time and space. Simultaneously and discretely, paradoxically existing in many places at once. And time isn’t the only thing that winds up getting smeared.

The crew of the Foul Ship Gigantes enters the Bleed intact, and emerges quite insane. The ‘Fomorians’, as they are called in the City Age, are warped, imperfect, and most of all completely unintelligible. Whatever happened to them on their journey through the Bleed has made them hyperviolent to the point that if two crews encounter one another, they’ll tear each other apart. Often, a single crew will turn on itself if nothing else is nearby to descend upon. It’s estimated that at any given time there are dozens of Gigantes in Sol, landing in random locales and then going beast mode, destroying everything around them and eventually themselves. Fomorian emergences come in semi-predictable waves, and the City has an algorithm that they can use to guess when and where a new wave will pop up. Each Gigantes ship crews several hundred time-warped post-human pirates, outfitted with mind-boggling far-future weapons tech. If they didn’t tear themselves apart within a few days of arriving in our present, they would be a massive problem! Thankfully, Light-wavelength radiation from the Traveler, specifically its effect on causal systems, prevents Fomorians from popping up anywhere on Earth or in near-Earth orbit.

Telling Clovis that his grandfather is his own great-great-great (repeating) grandson makes him experience a critical systems failure and forces him to restore from backup. Gives you a solid thirty minutes to do whatever you want in the Braytech systems around Eventide.

#destiny #destiny 2 #dinklebot sitcom #northbot sitcom #more lore! MORE LORE!#I knoooow I’m posting this sooooo late at night but i don’t care :)#It’s been a very long time since I wrote any kind of Destiny lore post

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princess-ibri · 10 months

Text

Disney Parents Backstory Tangled Version!

So here's what I've come up with for Rapunzel's parents. We know that Arianna used to adventure with Willow and that they competed in the Contest of Crowns, and yet they don't appear to be princesses of one of the Seven Kingdoms. So I had the idea that this is how the Princess and the Pea story goes in the DisneyVerse!

Young Arianna travels through Corona who's once again hosting the contest, and decides to join in as it seems fun and hey, she and Willow are princesses as well!

Prince Frederic's mother is less then enthused at this young nobody claiming to be a princess winning all these events for royalty, as she had decided to use the contest as a way to find a suitable wife for her son. Frederic, however, is head over heels for this beautiful talented adventurer and makes sure to help her win the last-minute "challenge" his mother sets up to test Arianna--the infamous pile of mattresses and the pea underneath.

Meanwhile, with Eugene's Parents I think they'd fit well with the "Man meets Odd Traveling Companions and they help him win a Princess' hand" storyline

When you've got a place with a name and the vibe of "The Dark Kingdom" well you're just gonna attract wicked sorcerers. Its prime evil tower real estate!

So young Prince Edmund is sent to run him off, and in the process of scoping out the tower he meets the sorcerer's young daughter, a beautiful young maiden named Hortensia.

(I wanted a name to link Eugene's birthname too, and Hortensia works well as a feminine version of Horace xD)

They start talking and meeting secretly, and she helps Edmund avoid her father's raven spies. But she herself is trapped and unable to escape due to her father's power.

Eventually they're discovered, and the sorcerer, mostly to amuse himself, gives Edmund three impossible tasks to fulfill in order to marry Hortensia when Edmund states his feelings towards her.

So Edmund, determined to free her, goes off on his journey to do the tasks and along the way he meets young Quirin, Hector and Adira, helps them with whatever trouble he finds them in and so they form The Brotherhood, and they later use their special skills (and some secret help from Hortensia, through the ravens she's managed to turn to her aide) to fulfill the tasks, and eventually defeat the evil sorcerer once and for all.

The three companions find a new home and family in Edmund's court, Edmund and Hortensia are happily married and she has control of her father's ravens now, which she starts training to listen to Edmund as well, and the little chick seen in her hand in the portrait in the show turns out to be baby Hamuel.

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lua-magic · 10 months

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Saturn and your excellence.

Planets aspecting or in close conjunction with Saturn decides which area you will excel into.

Sun and Saturn.

You will excel into areas where you have authority.

You are great leader would work for common people.

You can get into government jobs or work with government easily.

However, this conjunction also give natives problems with their father.

This combination also shows pitar dosha or ancestral curse combination.

Hence, native usually faces delays in life, especially to get name, fame and position and has to work really hard for it.

Moon and Saturn.

You will excel into areas where you require to do deep research.

You like going to the roots of the problems.

You make great researcher.

Moon is also food, so you can also make a great cook.

Moon is also medicine, so you can get into pharmacy as well.

If you have South node with moon and Saturn then you can get into herbal medicines and if you have north node with Saturn and moon you can get into modern medicines.

Venus and Saturn.

Venus is beauty, luxury, clothes, brands.

Hence, native can work into textile or in beauty industry.

Native with this combination can also open their own brand and promote themselves.

Male native with this combination gets highly independent wife.

Mercury and Saturn.

Such people make great CA, and auditor.

Such natives can find faults easily which others won't be able to notice.😅

They can go proofreading and writing, coding, AI and data analytics.

Mercury is also books, so they can buisness related to books as well.

Here, this combination makes natives to loose intrest in sexual activities as well.

Jupiter and Saturn.

Jupiter is knowledge, here native would be highly knowledgeable.

Native can become teacher, counselor, and spiritual teacher.

Mars and Saturn.

This great combination, as Mars pushes Saturn to perform.

Mars represents land, property, real estate.

Native with such combination can get into rela estate, work related to property and land.

Mars is also automobiles so native can get into cars and automobiles as well.

South node and Saturn.

South node is spirituality and occult.

Here, native can get into spirituality, occult, and healers.

However, this combination causes lot of fluctuations in your work life and native has to change their work or work place often.

South node is also microorganisms, so native can go into microbiology or study about minute creatures.

South node is also detachment and cuts, so natives can become surgeon, doctors and lab related work.

North node and Saturn.

North node is shadow planet, any work related or that deals with shadow would be suitable.

Photography, videography, youtuber, bloggers, work that involves Internet and camera are great for such natives.

North node is technology and expansion, native can get into technical stream as well.

However, this combination causes lot of delays in work life, and also sometimes natives could suffer from evil eyes.

Such natives should NOT reveal more about their work to others.

#occult #spirituality #vedic astrology #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology

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y2klostandfound · 1 year

Text

How to win - Jet Set Radio Future on Game Players New magazine Vol.29 (Video game magazine)(Hong Kong)(2002)(06/03/2002)(Part 1)

Translation in English:

XBOX

2002

On sale

ACT - SEGA

6,800 Yen - 1-4 players

Corresponding to 5-1ch audio equipment

Attention!

This game is only suitable for and anyone who may imitate or reference the in-game characters should also avoid touching this game as much as possible. If anyone engages in similar behavior after reading this article, I or the publication will not be held responsible, please pay attention!

JET SET RADIO FUTURE

Hello everyone! I am a DJ PROFESSOR K, the embodiment of beauty and wisdom, and a heroic companion!! Do you feel that life is boring? Looking for something fun to do? Come on! Listen to my Tokyo underground radio station! ! Don't forget the name, yes! ! It's "JET SET RADIO"! ! YEEEEEEEE~~~~HAAAAAA! ! !

Let's start with an introduction to the current situation! Tokyo is now dominated by Gouji Rokkaku , whose "Rokkaku Group" is more powerful than the local government, and no matter what level it is, such as real estate, society, culture or entertainment, it is also controlled by them, and the people have no freedom of choice at all, day after day, month after month, they live according to the meaning of the Rokkaku, without a soul and without their own selves. Recently, Rokkaku succeeded in becoming the mayor, which completely fell to the hands of Rokkaku in Tokyo, even the law can be changed by him at will, of course, the police are not spared, and they have become Rokkaku's Corps and they are fighting against those who are against him, OH MY GOD!

However, where there is darkness, there is light, and a group of young people who are passionate about life are determined to vent their inner grievances with graffiti and to awaken the sleeping people with crazy actions. But there was one thing that surprised them, When it happened, it turned out that "Rokkaku Expo Stadium" was in full swing, and the surrounding vigilance was also strengthened a lot, which made the struggle between these young people and the Rokkaku Group heated up. Although the enemy is a group with great power, fortunately, many capable people have joined in the process of protest, which has ignited new hope for this group of young people. And this class of ideal Stormy Teenagers, they call themselves "GG"! !

Members of GG

CORN

The person who already existed when GG was founded is now GG's leader, very competitive, and often considers himself a genius.

GUM

She is another main member of GG, is responsible for the operation of the organization together with CONE (CORN), she is so calm that the men who have a crush on her automatically give up after ten minutes.

YOYO

The new member of the GG, the typical storm boy, is arrogant and often calls himself a cannon king.

BEAT

The mysterious boy who appeared on the streets of Tokyo, since his appearance, things have changed rapidly.

ROBOY

The robot that CONE(CORN) retrieves, everything else is unknown, only known to be as arrogant as CONE(CORN).

ROKKAKU GROUP

Rokkaku Police

The front-line personnel of the Rokkaku Group, everything that will hinder the people and things of the Rokkaku Group is also their goal.

HASHED (HAYASHI)

The police commander of the Rokkaku Police Force, Division 0 is a very troublesome policeman. If he is targeted by him, he will never have a good life.

Gouji Rokkaku

The chairman of the Rokkaku Group, who dominates Tokyo's economy and culture, is a very authoritarian careerist.

Getting Started

Controller

Buttons MENU In-game

Left Stick Select Walk/Run

Right Stick -- Look around (while standing)/Map

rotation (in PAUSE)

Arrow keys Select --

A button Decide Jump/Decide

B button Cancel Accelerate/Use props during battle

X button -- Continuous TRICK/HANDPLANT

Y button -- Continuous TRICK/TURN

START button Decide PAUSE on

BACK button Cancel Cancel

Left button -- The camera direction is corrected

to the front

Right button -- Spray GRAFFITI/ Dialogue unfolds

Various Actions Basics

Walk/Run

Left STICK is to control the character's movement. After inputting a few directions, the character will make a sprint start and then move forward at an even speed.

Jump

The A button is for jumping, The distance and height depend on the time of pressing the button, if you press it for a long time, you will jump higher, different characters will have more or less jumping power.

Turn

On the way to several directions, press the Y button to make the character turn his back foward and make a backward movement.

Dialogue

Some characters can have a dialogue with the player, as long as you approach the player, the dialogue icon will appear, and you can press the right button

Accelerate

Each time you use it, you need to consume 10 cans of spray paint, press the B button to use it, and you don't need to use it while jumping.

Camera Correction

During the game, the camera will turn with the character's movement, press the left button to correct it to look straight ahead.

TIC Tips

When fighting against the enemy or Rival, the left button can be used to lock the target. When the opponent is in front and the CURSOR is yellow, press the left button, and the CURSOR will turn red. At this time, press the B button to accelerate, and there is a chance to make a straight line to recover the gap, but it still needs 10 cans of spray paint.

TRICK

GRIND

Basically all handrails or fences can also do this action, just walk close to the above facilities, press the A button to jump, the character will automatically slide on the handrail or fence, and is not limited by the slope, even if it's vertical.

AIR

Using speed or an inclined platform, you can jump higher than normal, and the movements you make while flying are classified as AIR.

WALLRIDE

Specific walls (such as advertising boards) allow players to slide on them, and they are not limited by the slope, as long as the character touches the wall, and the speed is faster than that on the ground.

HANDPLANT

In some "U" shaped terrain, it is possible for the character to make this action, and when the character is about to reach the edge of the item, press the X button to make an upside down posture, which has the effect of accelerating.

COMBINATION

GRIND COMBINATION

On the railing-shaped terrain, it is possible to make GRIND movements, but in fact, combined actions can also be added to GRIND movements. And the method is simple, just press the X and Y buttons, and press continuously to make a series of actions to increase the score, as for what the use of the extra score is, I will introduce it to you later.

AIR COMBINATION

AIR COMBINATION is almost the same as GRIND, as long as you enter X and Y in the air state, the character will make fancy.

Spray Painting Tips

In the game map, there will be a rotating round plan (GRAFFITI POINT) on the wall, which represents a place that needs to be painted, the player has to make the character approach and then press the right button to spray the pattern. Each GRAFFITI POINT needs to consume a can of spray paint, but one thing to note is that pressing the right button anywhere will also consume a can of spray paint.

Continuous spraying

If there are more than one GRAFFITI POINT side by side on the wall, it means that the spray painting is of a larger size. Players can start from the first pattern and press the right button until the last one.

The type of spray painting

There are five sizes of spray painting in the game, namely SS, S, M, L, and XL.

NEW GAME

After selecting NEW GAME, you will start the main game mode for one person only and in order to spray GG's spray paint all over Tokyo, the player must travel through all the different areas and solve the obstacles in front of you. The game consists of two main parts, "STREET" and "GARAGE PARK", which will be introduced in detail below.

STREET

Based on Tokyo, each "STREET" can be regarded as a level, and certain conditions must be completed before moving on to the next one. As for the conditions, it is different each time, the player can ask other team members at Garage Park or listen to JSR'S DJ PROFESSOR K for information. But there is one thing common to all STREETs, that is, all spray painting must be completed. Another thing that we must mention is that each STREET will have certain hidden things that will not be provided with intelligence, how to find out, you have to look at your skills.

GARAGE PARK

The base camp of GG, all team members will also gather here, players can freely practice here, and listen to the ADVICE of teammates. In addition, if you talk to ROBOY, you can enter the GARAGE MENU screen, which has functions such as game setting change, SAVE, custom spraying, basic skill training, and character rotation in use. And every time you finish a street, you have to come back here once, so GARAGE PARK is definiteky an important place.

GG Handbook

In the GG Handbook, you can clearly understand the "STREET MISSION" of each version, so what is STREET MISSION?

In fact, these are the conditions for the appearance of the hidden "GRAFFITI SOUL" and every time you complete a STREET MISSION, a GRAFFITI SOUL will appear. GRAFFITI SOUL is an optional spray pattern that can be viewed and selected in the GARAGE MENU after obtaining it. However, in order to make STREET MISSION appear, you must first find and get the "MYSTERY TAPE" in this section, then the STREET MISSION can be found in the GG Handbook.

PAUSE Screen Diagram

1.Instruction - Indicates the condition or goal that is currently a priority.

2.The street where you are - Displays the name of the street where the player is currently located.

3.GRAFFITI SOUL/ GRAFFIT in the map -

Top:The number of GRAFFITI SOULS acquired in the same layout.

Bottom: The number of GRAFFITI completed in the same layout, calculated in GRAFFITI POINT.

4.Number of GRAFFITI SOUL - Number of GRAFFITI SOUL acquired.

5.The Direction of the PLAYER - The arrow represents the front of the player.

6.ICON-

CHARACTER CHANGE: Available only at GRAFFITI STOP.

SAVE:Available only at GRAFFITI STOP.

GG Handbook: The conditions in each map and the content of "Mystery TAPE".

Back to the game

Game Screen Explanation

MAIN GAME Screen

The usual game screen, STREET is the same as GARAGE PARK.

1.STAMINA GAUGE - After receiving damage, it will be reduced, and when it is reduced to zero, it will be game over.

2. Number of spray paint cans - It can be collected on the street, and you must have spray paint before you can spray paint.

3.Number of GRAFFITI - The number of paintings on the same layout, the number completed is on the left, and the total number is on the right.

4.GRAFFITI POINT - You must have this logo to spray paint on the wall.

5.SPEED METER - Indicates the current speed of the character.

Use continuous TRICK!

When using continuous TRICK, additional points will appear on the upper left of the screen. The more consecutive TRICKs you perform, the higher your score will be. When you reach a certain level of score, there will be "prizes". Let's work hard! !

BATTLE screen

There is a slight difference between BATTLE and MAIN GAME game modes, so the screen representations are different.

1.TIME - An item that will appear in RACE MODE, which will give the player a better understanding of the current situation when racing with RIVAL.

2.CURSOR - Whether it is BATTLE with the enemy or a RIVAL, CURSOR will also appear. When you approach the opponent, CURSOR will appear on the opponent.Press the left button at this time, and the CURSOR will turn red, indicating that the person has locked the target.

PAUSE screen

Press the START button during the game to enter the PAUSE screen, which is a decisive help for playing the game. You can also enter this screen when you are in BATTLE. Press the left and right buttons to switch map mode and view the entire map. In addition, the "GG Handbook" can also be viewed on this screen.

Continue to Part 2

#jet set radio future #xbox #jsrf

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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 months

Note

FIVE SENTENCE FIC STARTER:

“Is that your real name?”

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: Siren song mind control, captivity, memory loss, mind manipulation, siren whump

20 years before present day

"Areyto."

"Areyto... pretty. Is that your real name?" Guilford Wentworth the Third, who went by his mother's maiden name, Iryn, let his legs drift in the water of the little pond in the center of the garden. Warmed by the sun earlier, it still felt almost like a bath on top where it lapped playfully around his bare calves, but cooled down where the tiny fish in the pond nibbled at the ends of his toes. All the water would go cool soon, now that the sun was setting in a blaze of oranges and reds.

It turned the woods all around the Wentworth estate to black shadows, the suggestions of trees painted by the gods' hands, not the real thing.

The fish nibbling at him tickled, and Iryn had to stifle a laugh as he kicked lightly. Water splashed and the little fish scattered, silvery-white and orange scales flashing as they vanished.

The beautiful young man with the dark hair and eyes stood off to one side, watching him. The last glimmers of yellowed sunset moved over the shimmering silk of his blue robe and against his brown skin.

The young man - Areyto - watched him. There had been some sort of singing inside, and just after Areyto had appeared, and Iryn knew this should be alarming, but he felt himself relax. Nothing to worry about. It was normal to see him here. It was normal to see the young man and his beauty.

Nothing to fear.

Nothing to remark upon.

Nothing to fear.

Had that been the words in the song? Odd. He couldn't quite remember.

Areyto's face held no expression at all, but something burned in the depths of his eyes that made Iryn shift, and his own try at a welcoming, friendly smile begin to fade.

"Was that impolite to ask? My apologies, it's only that I've never heard such a name before-"

"It is not my real name." Areyto frowned at him, then moved forwards and sat a few feet away, shifting his robe so his own long legs could slide into the water, too. He hummed, and the sound was soft and yet somehow filled the air around them.

Iryn's flicker of nerves settled, soothed almost immediately. He watched the young man undo the robe's tie and shift it off his shoulders, leaving it a puddle of cloth as he slipped, naked as the day he was born, into the water.

"The pond isn't for swimming," Iryn said, but his voice came out odd. Strained, but without emotion. He knew he should be bothered by this, offended even, but the feeling was... so far away.

"The pond is mine more than yours," Areyto answered, and there was a hint of an accent at the edge of his words, something sibilant and soft, but an accent Iryn had never heard before. "I feed here. Why are you here now?"

"You feed here? On what?"

Areyto blinked at him. He hummed again, eyes closing as he moved to float on his back.

Iryn couldn't remember, suddenly, what he'd been asking about. So instead he watched the other man float, his breath half-caught. Every detail was more beautiful than the last. "I'm being married in a week, you know," He said after a long moment. "A suitable young lady from a good family, all that, and it's all going to happen here, and I'm just... well. It's a lot, isn't it? I've only met her once."

Areyto didn't answer him. Instead, he drifted in the water, floating effortlessly on his back as the moon's soft light began to overtake the last vestiges of the sun. Iryn chanced a look, and then just as quickly had to look away again. The young man's body was as much a marvel as his face, half of it painted with markings Iryn knew vaguely as magical.

The song Areyto hummed seemed tailormade to comfort Iryn's fears. He smiled, knowing that if the man asked, he would swim, too. He found himself moving to undo the buttons of his shirt, absently.

"I'm afraid, actually," He confessed, after a long moment.

Areyto watched him, head turned where he floated aimlessly like a leaf on a lazy river. "Why?" He asked, without feeling.

"I'm afraid that I won't like her at all, that we'll hate each other and be miserable forever. That she'll hate me, and leave, and I'll end up alone. That she'll decide she'd rather die than bear my children, and you know how my father feels about that... I'm actually... afraid of my father."

Areyto was quiet. His song faded, and Iryn found his hands hesitating at the last few buttons.

Why had he been about to remove his shirt?

"My father is... a violent man," Iryn said, voice low. This felt like confessing to someone else's sin, and he had no idea why he was doing it, but the words kept spilling out anyway. "He has beaten me so many times, but I must live here, and take on the duties of running the household, and what if-... what if he is cruel to my wife, as well? To our children? What if I am cruel to our children?"

Areyto exhaled, eyes closing. Water lapped along his body, but Iryn no longer felt entranced by the sight. His fears had overwhelmed him.

"What if there is no happiness for me? Ever?"

Areyto didn't open his eyes, but he spoke. "There is happiness for no one here," He said, finally. Each word dropped like stone, rippling outward but not disturbing a thing otherwise. "You will be held as firmly as I am, but with different bonds."

"Well, you know, it's not quite like that-"

"It is. You just don't know it yet. But you will... you should hope that your wife will hate you. That she decides not to marry you, or have your children."

"Why?" Iryn asked, blinking. Something in him chilled. Areyto's voice felt like ice trickling down his spine. "Why would I want that?"

Areyto sighed and opened his eyes again, staring up at the stars, as if marking the constellations. "Because," He said softly, "You will live longer that way."

Then Areyto turned his head, looked at Iryn in a new way, no longer hostile but with a sadness, even... compassion.

Or something like it.

"It will hurt you more to know," Areyto said, seemingly to himself. "It will hurt so much more to be like me, to know that you cannot escape, that this is where you will live and die. It will hurt more to know that he will be the one to end you when you are no more use to him."

Iryn's eyes widened. "He will-... are you saying my father will murder me?"

"Yes. Once he has children to raise as his own."

Iryn's breath hitched. "Oh, gods," He whispered. His heart raced. "But-"

"I will help you," Areyto said, gently, and he began to sing. The notes spilled out from his open mouth and wound around Iryn like a caress, touched him like a kiss. He was happy here. He had never been so happy, as he was with the idea of his marriage.

His father would be proud.

His wife would be beautiful.

His children would make the Wentworth name stronger than ever before.

What a beautiful future he had before him.

Iryn smiled, absently thinking of a book inside he would very much like to read, and pushed himself to his feet. He wandered back inside, servants looking askance at his undone shirt and rolled-up pants. Buoyed by the song, he sat down in his room and sighed, contented.

Iryn Wentworth opened up his book, began to read, and he didn't remember a thing.

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee @angelsproject @loony-whumptoons

#bones in the ocean #iryn wentworth #mind control #hypnotized #sort of #siren song #siren #captivity #of course the siren is the captive but still #original fiction #original writing #writing #male siren #magical whump #original fantasy

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bethanydelleman · 6 months

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Hello!

I liked your post about Anne de Bourgh probably just being sick, and another question came to my mind with regard to her.

I am quite astonished to see, that in a lot of JAFF, when he can't get Elizabeth, Darcy marries Anne de Bourgh. Usually there is some hidden motivation behind that: for example she is pregnant and he wants to save her reputation, or he wants to give her an opportunity to escape from Lady Catherine (relying on the non-canon assumption, that Anne is suffering under her mother's care) etc. For me it is a big question whether Darcy would marry her under any circumstances, and I am curious to hear your opinion about that. I always love your thoughtful answers!

Thanks

This question is in reference to this post.

As a general rule, I think that if Darcy meant to marry Anne de Bourgh, he would have already done it. So no, I don't think he'd marry her.

Anne's age is unclear, but the cradles line implies that she and Darcy are close in age, which is around twenty-eight. That isn't terribly old for Darcy, but it is for Anne if she's expecting to produce some children. I do think Anne being around Darcy's age makes sense, because it makes Lady Catherine more desperate. She's probably been previously thinking to herself, "Darcy is enjoying his youth, lots of time to marry" but now the deadline is feeling near and she's starting to wonder when Darcy will do his duty... (because obviously he's not going to squelch on her, right? RIGHT?)

Often I'll see in JAFF Darcy giving up on love after Elizabeth and marrying Anne out of duty, but that seems out of character to me. There are lots of women out there, I feel like Darcy would just try again. He's only twenty-eight, he can find someone else he loves! I really think that before he met Elizabeth at Pemberley, he was planning on doing just that. He thought it was over.

As for saving Anne from her mother, which I don't think is a real concern, there are other ways to do that if Darcy really thought it was a problem. He could invite Anne for a visit to Pemberley or his house in London. He could talk to his uncle, who would have more standing to talk to his sister about it. But it's unlikely he would see this as his duty or even as something he interfere with. Lady Catherine is Anne's mother, he is the nephew, it's not his place. Those hierarchies were very important in that era.

If Anne were pregnant or something... this one bothers me so much! It's SO OUT OF CHARACTER! Darcy cares about Pemberley, he would not want some random kid as his possible heir! If he has already rejected Anne as a suitable wife, why would he accept her now that she is "ruined"? If he really cares about Anne, he could find her a suitable husband with his money, power, and connections, he doesn't have to marry her himself. And again, this isn't his problem. This is Lady Catherine's responsibility.

(Not to mention how freaking misogynistic it is for JAFF to imply that Lady Catherine is so incompetent that Darcy has to help her run her estate. Women can run their own freaking estates!!!)

So to sum up: No, Darcy would not marry Anne, under any circumstances. Maybe if Lady Catherine kidnapped Georgiana and held her for ransom. (Don't write that, I beg of you)

#question response #thank you for the compliment!#jane austen fan fiction #JAFF #mr. darcy #anne de bough #lady catherine de bourgh #pride and prejudice

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141wh0re · 3 months

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Red Spider Lily- Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Pairings: Body Guard!Simon Riley x Rich Bitch!Reader (f)

TW: MDNI, DDDNE, depression, suicidal ideation, anxiety, minor character death, angst, substance abuse and addiction, implied narcissism from readers dad, alcohol consumption, vomiting (not detailed, just mentioned), hyperthermia, brief wlw, NSFW thoughts, soft Simon, grumpy x grumpier trope, fun fact: don't mix MDMA with cocaine lads and lasses (can result in hyperthermia), whump, fluff.

Let me know if I missed anything in the tags <3

Word Count: 2626

Summary: Simon retires from the SAS, taking on a job for a well known real estate tycoon's daughter, serving as her sole protector until her father can find a suitable man to sell marry her off to. Yet, instead of protecting her from outside dangers, he's finding the biggest danger is herself. Simon is determined to help you escape this life that was pre-ordained for you, and cure you of your disease. Addiction.

After nearly three decades spent in the military, Simon never expected to find himself here. Stuck in a contractual agreement, protecting and ensuring the safety and well-being of a bratty young woman with a wealthy family. It was almost insulting to him, had it not been for the hefty sum of money the woman's father wired to his bank account every week.

There were a few moments he'd almost made the rash decision to quit his job completely, and allow the someone else to look after this bitchy damsel.

But there was something that kept him here, keeping a protective eye on you and a firm hand at the small of your back in crowded rooms.

Beneath all the glitz and glam, partying and binge drinking, and the drugs... Simon saw you for what you were when you were at your lowest points.

A young girl who was forced into a lonely life of luxury. A girl who lost her mother too young and wasn't sure how to cope. A girl who yearned for her father's attention while he consumed himself in work, social gatherings, and public appearances. A girl who closed herself off from the world and kept everyone at arm's length so the venomous bite of abandonment would be less impactful when those people inevitably left her. A young girl who drowned her liver in alcohol while snorting enough blow to potentially kill her every weekend.

Simon knew you needed consistency in your life with substance. He'd watched his younger brother go through this plenty, repeating a vicious cycle of pain and torment for a fleeting moment with the impostor of joy in powder form.

He also knew you resembled that of a caged bird. Lonely, isolated, and detached from the rest of the world while you awaited either your death or an arranged marriage that would benefit your father's company, and potentially cushion his pockets a tad more.

As you emerged from the master suite of the penthouse, Simon heaved a resigned sigh, seeing you dolled up for the night ahead. Luxurious, private parties and public appearances to keep your name relevant in the tabloids and medias.

He leaned against the kitchen island, large arms crossed in his black button down, rich, honey-colored eyes fixated on you, and his signature black, surgical mask in place.

"Eat. You're not going out on an empty stomach." His deep, thick accented voice demanded. He nodded towards the plate on the counter, filled with chicken risotto with truffle sauce.

You scoffed in response to his authoritative tone before obeying anyways and climbing onto the bar stool, realizing it's probably best not to piss off your body guard.

"Where's it from?" You asked in a bland tone.

"Your kitchen." he answered gruffly as he poured an electrolyte packet into a bottle of water and set it beside your plate.

"Didn't know they taught ya to cook up truffle sauce in the military," you teased in that snarky tone he felt deep hatred for. Your metaphorical mask was going up early tonight.

"It's so cute how hard you work to save me from myself every weekend, big guy. Doesn't it get tiring?" You goaded before working at the small, yet filling dish before you.

Simon ignored your attempts to rile him up, knowing good and well you were fishing for a reason to indulge in your vices tonight. If you went out in a bad mood, it was all the more reason for you to fill your nose with booger sugar, and what better way to elevate yourself than starting it in a piss-poor mood, so your high will be that much better?

"Eat." Is all he replied with, leaving no room for questions or arguments.

As the night progressed, Simon kept a watchful eye on you, taking in your every move, expression, and breath while diligently scanning your surroundings to ensure your safety.

He watched as you finished another glass of champagne that was easily worth three months rent for his studio loft downtown.

You were pleasantly buzzed as you floated about the mansion, like you owned it, being the perfect little socialite you learned to be. Simon's dark, brooding presence loomed behind you, keeping you within at least three arm's lengths at all times.

"Going to the loo," you informed Simon as you spun on the toe of your red bottoms, heels clicking against the marble floor as you sashayed in the direction of the restroom.

You didn't even have to cast a glance over your shoulder to know Simon was already following behind you, keeping his eyes dutifully trained on you and your immediate surroundings.

Once outside the bathroom, Simon knocked on the door before entering and doing a sweep of the room before allowing you to enter.

You rolled your eyes at his precautious measures as he shut the door behind you. After clicking the lock in place, you promptly relieved yourself before standing at the vanity to wash your hands, reapply your red lipstick, then pull a little pick-me-up from your clutch.

Using the compact mirror, you pulled a tampon case from your clutch, producing a small baggie of white powder from within it, and emptied the contents of the baggie onto the mirrored surface as it sat on the vanity. You shook the small tampon case to receive a small straw, then used one of your many credit cards to neatly align the powder in a straight line.

Holding a finger to your left nostril, you plugged it and inserted the end of the straw into the right nostril, hovering over the powder as you inhaled with a strong pull from your nose and lungs.

The powder irritates your nose momentarily, causing it to scrunch and sniffle as the tingles pulse through your nasal passage. Bitterness coated your taste buds as the powder dripped down the back of your throat, earning a cringe from you as you shook your head, coughing slightly to aid the phlegm in easing down your esophagus.

You promptly cleaned up and did a final once over in the mirror, adamant not to stare too long and avoid your flaws. Clammy palms idly smooth over the material of your dress, trying to ensure you look your best, and avoid the nagging feeling at the back of your mind. Your darker-self trying to rear her ugly head and steal your fleeting moments of joy, and stir up the insufferable concoction of anxiety.

Finally, you emerged from the bathroom to be greeted with the sight of Simon stood with his back to the door, his large palm clasped firmly over his wrist.

He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what you were doing in the bathroom. Had it only been a quick stop, it would've been three minutes tops. But when you did your pick-me-ups, it took seven minutes.

He shouldn't know that, yet considering you're a relatively well-known public figure, he has to time every second you're not in his line of sight.

Simon stepped to the side, allowing you to exit the bathroom. His dark eyes gave a disapproving look as he surveyed your appearance.

"You've got a bit of sugar on your dress." He informed you, glancing down at the skirt of your black cocktail dress.

Your eyes hurriedly followed his, searching for the spot and swiping your hand over the material, earning an amused glint to flash in his normal unreadable eyes.

You groaned in annoyance once it became apparent he was messing with you, your hand quickly came up to slap his arm in defiance.

"Arse," you muttered under your breath. Simon's stoic demeanor momentarily gave way to show off a glimpse of underlying smugness.

Simon couldn't deny that you were a good looking woman, and he always found it hard to tear his gaze away from you, especially when you were a magnet for people. You had the natural ability to draw people in, even with your resting-bitch-face. Somehow, someway, everyone gravitated toward you.

It was very much the opposite of himself, all jagged edges, harsh lines with the repellent of a rabid Rottweiler. He found it fascinating on a personal level, but on a professional level, he loathed it.

He hated how people thought they could touch you, or be within three feet of you, or even the way they looked at you.

All he saw was greed, manipulation, and control. He was certain that you saw it too; he could see the faint flicker of disgust in your eyes when someone tried to cozy up to you for their own gain.

A part of Simon's heart ached to see your life full of so many people, yet none of them truly gave a shit about you. But he also knew you did it strategically, much like he had done for most of his life. Although, Simon's was done more coldly, you had a certain finesse about it. You held a sense of attainability, allowing people in just enough to keep control of, but never in deep enough for them to control you.

Behind the rich, spoiled brat, Simon marveled at the true strength and cunning you showed within this materialistic world. He could see the fox within you, calculating and sly as she was, planning her escape.

But the escape plan is what scared him. He heard every conversation you had with yourself, when you thought no one was listening.

You longed for a life without a name. Where you could fly under the radar, only keeping close to you those who truly cared. And as much as he tried to remain detached. He was concerned that one day, you'd find a remedy for that desire.. and take flight for the heavens.

Simon watched vigilantly over you as you remained perched on the outdoor couch with your group of girlfriends. His eyes never left you as your friend slipped a pill between your soft, red lips and did the tactless act of spitting her drink in your mouth to aid you in ingesting the pill.

Fuckin' hell, love. You need better friends.

He sighed inwardly, but heaved a quiet breath as he kept watch, wanting to shake his head in disappointment. But he knew you could feel his disapproving gaze prickling at your muted senses.

Your head dipped back in pleasure as your friend kissed down your neck, across your collarbones and back up to your lips. Half-lidded eyes remained trained on Simon as he stood within your sight, your eyes appreciatively raked over his form, taking in the way his muscles strained against the black fabric of his black button-down, and the way his slacks fit his tree-trunk legs perfectly.

He was a delicious sight and you were feeling ravenous, silently lusting over the man assigned to guard your life. The only man who gave a single shit about you.

Simon internally groaned, his hand clenching into fists behind his back as he watched the scene unfold before him. If he wasn't on duty right now, he'd be fucking you within an inch of your life, and make you pray to a merciless God. Himself.

You pulled yourself up from the couch on slightly unsteady legs, and sauntered over to him, only stopping in front of him once your hands were on his chest.

Simon gazed into your dilated pupils, already noticing the effects of your meeting with your little friend, Molly.

"Wanna go home," you demanded, pouting up at him.

"So soon? You looked like you were having a bit of fun." He replied in a neutral tone, keeping his aloof and disinterested persona in place.

"It's boring here," you whined, "wanna have fun. At home. With you."

"Mm, you wound me, bird. Here I thought you knew not to associate me in the same sentence as fun." He scoffed lightly, trying to keep the inflection of amusement from his tone.

He reached a large, callused hand to rest on the small of your back, acting as a stabilizer for your current state. Tingles ran up your spine as every nerve-ending desperately sought out the rest of his warm touch, igniting hot flames of desire along your spine, and pulsing directly to your rapidly slickening cunt from your heightened state.

Simon watched you closely once you were back in the safety of your home. He gauged you as you stripped off your dress carelessly, leaving it discarded on the floor, much like you had done with your heels the moment you were off the lift earlier.

He sighed as he watched you prance around the room topless, going about your business in your flimsy g-string.

"It's too bloody hot in this damn house," you whined as you adjusted the thermostat.

Your body swayed on unsteady legs, your skin glistened with intense perspiration. A wave of dizziness struck you, forcing you to lean against the wall momentarily while your heart rate soared, soft, frantic breaths escaped your lips while your vision blurred in a not so fun way.

Simon's eyes narrowed with concern before he immediately recognized your symptoms, having realized what would force this reaction out of you.

"How many lines did you do tonight?" Simon asked in a firm tone, scooping you up in his arms effortlessly, then rushed you into the bathroom.

He helped you kneel before the toilet, gathering your hair in one hand so you wouldn't have to focus on much.

"T-three," you panted out, feeling waves of nausea swell and your stomach to roil.

You retched into the toilet, firmly grasping the edges in a white-knuckle grip.

"And you only took one pill. Molly, right?" he asked with concern, gently rubbing his large palm at the center of your shoulder blades.

"Yeah," you croaked weakly before lowering your head again.

Simon grunted in frustration, yet remained vigilantly at your side, helping you through your sickness.

After a while, the vomiting finally ceased as he gently cleaned you up and propped your back against the bathtub. He quickly grabbed a washcloth and a disposable cup for mouth wash before handing it to you.

"Swish and spit in the cup, bird," he instructed while pressing the cold washcloth to your forehead, then moved it to the nape of your neck, trying to quickly cool your body down from the sudden onslaught of heat exhaustion.

You did as Simon instructed before handing it to him to dispose of. Your eyelids were hardly able to stay open, your body felt weak as if each limb was weighed down by imaginary anchors, and your skin felt like it was on fire.

Simon returned with a thermometer in hand, taking your temperature.

102 degrees.

"Fuckin' hell, bird." he murmured gruffly.

With quick efficiency, Simon collected you in his arms again, carrying you out to the oversized sectional in the living room.

You were already drifting in and out of consciousness, finding new items surrounding you each time you opened your eyes.

Simon worriedly administered an IV, a bin was placed beside the couch, cool washcloths littered across your body.

"What's all this?" you slurred nearly unintelligibly.

"Hyperthermia. Just rest. Let me take care of you," he answered in a softer tone than ever before, and had your body not been fighting for it's life, you might have caught the worry in his eyes and concern and care in his deep voice.

For several hours, Simon remained by your side, using a dropper to dispense electrolytes on your tongue, checking your temperature every hour, and gently running his fingers through your hair while you slept on the couch.

"M' gonna get you fixed up, bird... don't wanna see you like this anymore," he whispered in devotion, and pressed a tender kiss on your forehead.

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