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ghostofthedarkhold · 7 months

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symbiotic daydream

pairing: venom!kate bishop x fem!reader

she/her pronouns are used, and mentions of the reader wearing a dress.

word count: 3.4k (3428)

warnings: dark kate, venom forcing kate to think dark thoughts, obsession, stalking, kinda dub-con kissing but not really, no actual smut, groping, suggestive content/language.

a/n: I was going to include smut but this fic really got away from me so if yous like it then I’ll probably do a pt.2 at some point with smut :)

so yeah, surprise, i am doing kinktober this year. however i done absolutely horrible at completing my masterlist last year so this time around im just going to post monster fucking fics as i please with no official masterlist. enjoy!

Symbiotes in the modern world are few and far between, but it’s no secret that some people have the parasitic creatures leeching on their brain, a passenger in their mind. Most people avoid the people that are bonded to the inky creatures that cause cities to run red with blood and pleasure, others hunt them out after an initial encounter with them, obsessed with the ecstasy they had only been given a crumb of. Rumours of the symbiotes' destruction are nothing new to Kate, something her mother had warned her of for her whole life, their wants corrupting the minds of those they inhibit, but she’d never come across one herself, and while part of her was always curious to see them other than on the news, she was mostly thankful for it. That was, until one latched onto her.

Venom made himself known almost immediately after latching onto the young college student, plaguing her mind with thoughts of sadism, of having girls under her, begging her for mercy that she would never grant. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Venom began trying to persuade her with other things. Pleasure. Overwhelming amounts of pleasure brought upon her victims, making them beg and scream for her. These thoughts were much more difficult for the young archer to shake off. A young, hormonal, and, quite frankly, already insatiable Kate Bishop with never-ending thoughts of sex? She was done for long before she ever accepted, or even realised, it. But she was capable of holding back. Until she saw you.

She first saw you walking out of the movie theatre with some friends. You were tugging down your dress that had ridden up your thighs from sitting in the theatre chair for the past few hours, and Venom was practically screaming at her, trying to force her limbs forward, to stride over to you and pull your dress up your hips instead of allowing you to move it further down. She was able to stop herself, just barely. But without even knowing it, from that moment forward, you had Kate Bishop in your trap.

She was sly, following behind wherever you went without you even knowing it. Stalking behind you in the street, swinging from rooftop to rooftop with the help of Venom’s neverending slick webs of ink, watching you from across the street while you danced and drank in bars, went from store to store on your weekly shopping trip, snuggled in comfortably for the night in the assumed safety of your own bed. You had completely, wholly taken over Kate’s life without ever having met her. Every time she sat down to study she couldn’t do anything but scribble down your name and draw sketches of you from memory in her, admittedly amature and flawed, art style, every time she drew her bow she couldn’t help but picture her arrow sinking into the flesh and piercing the heart of whoever she saw you with last, a crush, a friend, even a stranger you may had just been giving directions to, they were all the same to Kate, undeserving of even being in the same vicinity as you. When she finally cracked and leaned into her new role as your very own, personal stalker and did some idle snooping online, finding out that you were enrolled at the same college as her, everything became much, much worse. Finding out which classes you took, Kate mangled and stretched her schedule out as much as she was able to until she finally managed to land herself a spot in three out of five of your classes, which was honestly more than the brunette had hoped for when she sent out her email, requesting, practically begging for, her new classes.

Kate sat a few rows directly behind you in the partially empty lecture halls, at first content to watch the back of your head and the way you furiously scribbled down notes in attempt to keet up with your various professors ramblings, but eventually that no longer satisfied her need to be near you, she needed to know you. So, with her heart thudding out of chest like that time she tried to ask her crush in middle school to the winter dance, and Venom’s crazed and incessant cheering clattering around in her brain, instead of taking her usual seat, she stopped a few rows ahead than she normally would in Professor Maximoff’s class and slid in the seat beside you, nearly sending your normal seat partner tumbling to the floor. But when your eyes found hers and you gave her that sweet smile she had watched you give others, for months pleading with the universe for it to be directed at her, followed by a shy greeting, Kate no longer worried about the boy she had practically rugby-tackled to the ground. Honestly, the entire world could have imploded at that very second, and as long as you were in a protective bubble and gave her that same smile again, Kate would die happier than she ever had been, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold Venom back any longer.

She let him take the lead in her obsession, looking into every part of your life that the internet had to offer. She found where you grew up, details of your family, your favourite books and movies, anything she could squeeze out. Kate was sure that the universe wanted you to be hers when she got the notification that you had accepted her request to your private instagram, the one away from the prying eyes of your parents. Abandoning any shred of reason or dignity she had left, Kate got about an hour of sleep that night due to her endless scrolling of your instagram and any photos you were tagged in, Venom getting particularly rowdy when she came by a picture of you in a bikini on one of your friends accounts.

Kate’s plan to have you was set in motion the very next day, innocently asking you questions about yourself, ignoring the lecture and Professor Romanoff’s harsh warning glares. She learned a lot more about you than the internet ever could have given her, and you in turn learned some facts about Kate. You talked about your famile lives, Kate telling you that she was an only child who was raised by her mother, about hobbies, music, anything and everything Kate could absorb about you, and she cursed how the time flew by when Professor Romanoff informed the class that the lecture was over. Kate begrudgingly packed up her things, trying to take in as much of you as possible, as if she wouldn’t see you the very next morning. She slowly stood up when she noticed you had finished cramming your things into your backpack, and stood up to leave, but her footsteps came to an abrupt stop when you spat out a hurried invite to go to a bar with you and your friends that night. Kate spun around slowly, sure that she couldn’t have possibly heard you right, and she watched for a moment as you chewed on your lower lip, fighting over if you had made the right decision. But before you could retract the invitation in a hurried apology about how you hardly knew each other, ignoring the fact that you were ceratin you had told Kate every note-worthy thing about yourself in the last hour, Kate agreed. Her hands were shoved into her jacket pockets to prevent her from pumping her first in victory as you quickly scribbled down the address and time on a discarded piece of paper from a random students desk. Kate quickly made a grab for it as soon as your pencil had left the page, looking at it as if it were the Holy Grail, and to Kate, it was. She promised you that she would be there, the brunette already imagining seeing you that night, away from the stuffiness of the lecure halls, before sending you one last longing look and leaving you standing alone by your desk, watching her leave.

What Kate was unaware of was that you had your eye on her for weeks. Not nearly to the degree that Kate wanted you, but the second that you heard Professor Maximoff call out her name, you were looking her up on the schools website on your phone under the desk, intrigued by the new face showing up halfway through the semester. Your eyes nearly buldged out of their sockets when one of the first things you saw, aside from her grinning student ID picture, was Kate with a bow in her hands, looking as it was the most natural thing for the weapon to be there, with muscles straining against her long, fitted sleeves as she drew back her arrow, the headline under it detailing that she had brought another archery trophy home to the college. After that, your deep dive down the rabbit hole that was Kate Bishop was long and thorough, scouring through every mention in the schools website and news article - after ashemedly staring at her arms and hands on every picture for a good five minutes before eventually managing to tear yourself away. After weeks of pining after the star athlete, clinging to her every word when she answered a question or commented on the syllabus, or really anything she said, you could hardly believe your luck when she sat down next to you, your tunnel vision focused on the object of your latest fantasies not allowing you to feel worry for the boy that she elbowed away.

Kate was ecstatic that night as she pushed her way through the door of the bar, nervously tugging on the tie hung loosely around her neck. Venom had been berating her all night over her nerves, Kate rolling her eyes like a petulant child every time. He was right, of course. The deck was completely stacked in Kate’s favour, knowing every detail about you to make you putty in her hands, Still, she couldn’t help the anxiety nagging away at the back of her mind, as if she was about to go on a first date, worrying about impressions and the way she was dressed.

Kate could swear that all of the oxygen was sucked out of the room the second she saw you. You were dressed to the nine’s, especially for the dingy bar that you so regularly frequented, and there was a small bloom of hope within Kate that you had dressed up just for her. You certainly had never put so much effort in any other night you went out, and as far as Kate could see, she was the only change to your night.

Newfound confidence overtook Kate as she strode over to where you and your friends were clustered at the bar, unable to fight off her smirk as you immediately pulled your arm away from where it was slung around one of your friends shoulders, pulling the taller woman into a tight hug.

“You came!” You cheered, overjoyed at Kate’s arrival before pulling away from her, much to Kate’s disappointment, with a blush staining your cheeks, embarrassed at your sudden outburst of affection towards the girl you had only first talked to that afternoon, and Venom was quick to fill Kate’s thoughts of all the other things she could do to bring that redness to your face in other ways.

“Told you I would,” she smiled down at you instead.

It’s a miracle that Kate heard you ask her if she wanted a drink over the 80’s rock music playing from a corner somewhere, the conversations of different patrons that had all blended into one another, and the depraved thoughts clouding her mind. She stuttered out her usual drink order and you skipped off to find a bartender to make it for her, leaving Kate alone with your friends. She knew who they all were, of course, having fantised about watching the light leave most of their eyes after getting too close to you for Kate’s liking. Some looked at her with curiosity, while others with disdain, and Kate wondered why exactly it was that you invited her there.

“We could kill them all before anyone in here could even blink.”

Internally hissing at Venom to shut up, Kate turned her attention back to you. She spun around, completely ignoring the question one of your friends had finally voiced to her. She watched as you leaned over the bar, giggling at something the server had said to you, completely oblivious to the way the angle allowed Kate’s stare to hungrily devour the inches of cleavage that there exposed, angling herself to see down your dress as far as she could. Venom was screaming at her, screeching that now was the time to make their move. And for once, she listened to him.

You weren’t even aware of Kate’s determined gaze set on you, or the heavy foot falls of her boots against the wooden floor, until her hand wrapped around your bicep in a vice grip, dragging you away from whatever conversation that apparently was so hilarious the bartender was clutching his side. Kate promised Venom that they would see his blood before the night was over.

You made a sound of protest as you looked up to see that it was Kate who was dragging you across the bar, making a beeline for the exit. “Wh- Kate, what are you doing?” You questioned, tugging on your arm to try and free it from her bruising grip.

“I need to talk to you,” Kate all but growled out, dragging you through the door to the bar and into the cold New York night air, your short romper doing nothing to protect you from the bitter frost of the oncoming winter.

It was difficult enough having to watch you drape yourself over your friends from afar, watching through windows or scrolling through social media, sure that at least three of them wanted you, or at the very least wanted to fuck you, but watching it mere feet away from her was harder than Kate had predicted, Venom bringing out her baser instincts until all she wanted to do was press you against the nearest surface and claim you as hers and the symbiote’s marking you in front of everyone, anyone who had ever just layed eyes on you. She needed all of New York to know who you belonged to. But, despite Venom egging her on, even trying to take front seat and force her body into the movements, Kate couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, she settled for the next best thing, dragging you into the alley that was cracked between the bar and the next building.

Your questions didn’t cease until your back collided with the hard stone wall of the alley, Kate’s hard body caging you in, and she wasted no time crashing her mouth to yours.

It took a second for you to react, for your mind to process the sudden changes, but as soon as you did you were pressing yourself against Kate as much as you were able to, your hands coming up to her hair and tangling in her raven locks.

The kiss was a fight for dominance that Kate quickly won, slamming your arched back against the wall again, using your surprised and slightly pained yelp to allow her tongue to invade your mouth. You let her taste you, let her consume all of you, and it was the first time within your presence that Kate let her dams break and venom to slip through. She felt the slickness of his ‘flesh’ run down her arm, coating it, looking as if she had dipped it in a vat of tar. Kate’s hair moulded itself in your hands, although you were too preoccupied to notice, the already black locks flowing freely around her. It was only when you both pulled apart, the need for air separating you, that your eyes met hers and you saw that Kate’s were taken over by white.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kate whispered to you, drawing circles where her hand had landed on you hip in an attempt to soothe you, feeling that Venom was breaking free and that you could clearly see that, but her voice was warped. The words were all Kate, Venom’s eagerly encouraging her to continue with the previous activities, but the voice that said them was broken and deeper, and it wasn’t the one you had swooned over a mere ten minutes ago.

“Kate, let go of me,” your voice was smaller, the cheerfulness replaced by fear. You had no idea what was wrong with Kate, but you had no intention of sticking around to find out.

“No,” the voice was harsher now, more deformed, as Kate and Venom both fought for the chance to speak, Kate’s biceps straining as she pushed you up against the wall more firmly, holding your hips in an unbreakable clamp. Any softness that was there before was gone in an instant. You watched as Kate allowed Venom to take the reigns and she ground up against you.

Closing in on you, her body caging you in and leaving nowhere for you to run, Kate moved one of her hands from your hip, up your body, until she got to the neckline of your romper, yanking it down and revealing the lace of your bra.

Kate pawed at your breasts over your bra, and even with her pupils and iris’ gone you could feel her eyes drinking you in.

“So fucking pretty,” you didn’t like the relief that coursed through you when it was purely Kate’s voice that reached your ears. Despite your desperation to run out of the alley and never see her again, her own voice much less terrifying that the distorted sound of Kate and Venom melding together

“All those people looking at you. Shit, baby, wanted to watch my arrows crack into their skull,” Kate’s tone was soft and tender, as if the words were meant to comfort and woo you, but they sent a shock of fear down your spine, the thought of Kate killing someone over you paralysing your every muscle, and Kate accentuated her point with roughly pulling your bra down, freeing your breasts, and you winced at the wire of your bra digging into the soft skin of your sides. “So, so pretty,” Kate repeated, her gaze devouring you whole. “And all mine.”

“Ours,” Venom immediately hissed in her ear, his screeching grating against her brain. “You would have never had her like this if it wasn’t for me.”

Kate just rolled her eyes, ignoring the symbiote, which most definitely didn’t rub him the right way, and you were sure the next words, in a different voice than the last two, came from someone other than Kate entirely.

“I could kill the archer and have you to all to myself.”

That voice was quickly crammed far in the back of Kate’s head, and any movement from her stopped entirely, her hands simply resting on your tits, her entire weight focused on smushing you against the wall behind you as a look of anger twisted its way onto Kate’s face. She was having a war inside her head that you were not privy to.

Minutes passed, and you began to wonder if Kate was going to keep you like this all night, pressed against the wall of an alleyway, breasts on display for any passerby who took a few steps into the shadows, with Kate towering silently above you.

You finally found it in yourself to try and wriggle out of Kate’s grasp, and this is what seemed to wake her from her stupor, her focus snapping back to you.

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” you fought back a cry of relief when Kate’s voice replaced the monstrous one that seemed to have dragged her into her subconscious. You weren’t exactly sure who he was, but you decided that you would much rather have Kate at the forefront than him. “He won’t take me away from you, not ever. No one’s gonna ever separate us again.”

Kate wasn’t sure when it was that she decided to keep you by her side from now on. As soon as she walked into the bar? When she saw you laughing with the bartender? When she felt your lips against hers for the first time? She really didn’t know, but she had decided, and, unbeknownst to you, a future without Kate by your side no longer existed.

#c: kate bishop #dark fic #dark kate bishop #my writing #mcu #kate bishop x reader #venom #dark venom #c: venom #s: venomkate #vemom x reader #sort of #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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gilverrwrites · 19 days

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Harbinger

Godstiel/Reader, ≈600 words

AN: I've had a few requests for more Castiel/Reader, and this is probably not what youse had in mind, but I recently watched season 7 and, well, I had to write this.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, you'd never doubted Castiel and his intentions. Until now. Rating: 18+

CWs: Religious themes, bible quotes, dub-con, self-hate.

Please remember: Self love isn't selfish.

“It is I, be not afraid.”

“Cas?”

When Castiel had approached you, requesting to touch your soul, asking you to put your life on the line to help him fight an angelic war you had no part in, you’d complied, without hesitation. He had saved you countless times, rebelled when it would have benefited him not to. He was one of the good ones. Even as you’d laid beneath him, vulnerable, and in the worst pain imaginable, you’d thought; it was the least you could do.

When Bobby and the boys had begun to doubt his intentions, his motives, when they’d begun to suspect he was working with Crowley, you’d defended him. Perhaps those things were true, but he’d given you enough titbits to believe his intentions were good, that he would prevail. If he loses the war, who knows what repercussions might befall you, your friends, your family, all of humanity. You were sure his motives were just.

When you’d seen the massacres in the papers, and on the news, your dedication still didn’t falter. Sure, those people were not the creatures you’d become accustomed to killing, but what were racists, homophobes, and corrupt politicians, if not monsters by another name?

But now, as he stood before you, red and decaying; malformed, your faith wavered. If the power he held was truly meant for good, why was it destroying him?

“I am the Lord, your God.” He corrects you. His voice is as cold and unfeeling as it had been the day you met. All the warmth and curiosity he’d developed, the traits you’d come to appreciate and associate with him were gone. You’d helped him win the war, but at what cost? “Bow down and profess your love unto me.”

Despite your doubts, you fall to your knees. If he could execute offices, churches, and towns full of people with the click of a finger, what could he do to you? Unable to look at the rot on his skin, unsure if a mortal such as yourself should, you fix your gaze on his shoes as they drag along the carpet until he stands before you.

“I sense your uncertainty.” He places a hand on your forehead, it is clammy and damp, entirely unpleasant, yet it still sends a thrill through your body, sparking conflict between the fearful pit in your stomach and the salacious heat growing between your legs. “But I know that your love for me will control you. Your devotion has proved this thus far.”

Your heart pounds as he trails a single finger down the centre of your face, ghosting past your nose, before pressing to your lips, ensuring your silence as he continues.

“Free me.”

A spark of hope thrums through your body, without thinking you look to his face, hoping to see the face of your friend looking back, one who has come to you for help, for freedom from power that is clearly corroding him from the inside out. Instead, you are greeted by a being high on their own might. A smile that is enjoying your obedience, eyes that watch you with idle lust, and you know the true intent of his command.

Hope vanquished, you let your head fall once more, but Castiel catches you with the same finger he had pressed to your lips, aligning your face with his crotch. Free him.

You’d enabled this to happen, the harbinger of mutual destruction.

Clearly still sensing your dismay, seeing how your hands shake as you reach for him, he whispers what he likely thinks is solace, provocation.

“Your most important identity is not by your name, but you being loved by me.”

Request Info || Prompts || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

#castiel #godstiel #castiel x reader #castiel fic #godstiel x reader #godstiel fic

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monstraduplicia · 1 year

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daddy's little girl he broke in thirty: a dean winchester mix

1. abuse me - silverchair 2. adam raised a cain - bruce springsteen 3. alcohol - sisyphus 4. alibis - marianas trench 5. animals - nickelback 6. anyone who knows what love is (will understand) - irma thomas 7. black-eyed - placebo 8. blown wide open - big wreck 9. blunt force concussion - the dirty nil 10. break me - mcfly 11. burn & shine - the posies 12. call of the playground - shudder to think 13. carry that weight - the beatles 14. christian brothers - heatmiser, elliott smith 15. colossus - idles 16. coward's son - the ballroom thieves 17. daddy - korn 18. daddy's daughter - merricat crellin 19. damage control - the dirty nil 20. degenerate - the jesus and the mary chain 21. the devil you know (god is a man) - face to face 22. discipline - nine inch nails 23. don't let the sun catch you cryin' - jeff buckley 24. the drowners - suede 25. father - the front bottoms 26. father and son - cat stevens 27. father figure - george michael 28. father of mine - everclear 29. feel the pain - dinosaur jr 30. fiddle about - the who 31. forgiven - alanis morissette 32. fortunate son - creedence clearwater revival 33. freak - silverchair 34. friends in the sky - the dirty nil 35. fuckin' up young - the dirty nil 36. ghost - sky ferreira 37. girls - the dare 38. good boy - patriarchy 39. hang yer moon - the dirty nil 40. hard times - ethel cain 41. he needs me - shelley duvall 42. i burn - toadies 43. i know it's over - the smiths 44. i'm with you - avril lavigne 45. i need somebody - the stooges 46. infra-red - placebo 47. i woke up in a strange place - jeff buckley 48. judge yr'self - manic street preachers 49. last night i dreamt that somebody loved me - the smiths 50. life becoming a landslide - manic street preachers 51. lightsabre cocksucking blues - mclusky 52. loverboy - you me at six 53. low self opinion - rollins band 54. monster side - addict 55. moodswing whiskey - jeff buckley 56. mr. self destruct - nine inch nails 57. nancy boy - placebo 58. o death - rhiannon giddens, francesco turris 59. oh comely - neutral milk hotel 60. pain - four star mary 61. papa was a rodeo - the magnetic fields 62. please hurt me - the crystals 63. please please please let me get what i want - the smiths 64. prayer - big wreck 65. pretension//repulsion - manic street preachers 66. renegade - styx 67. runnin' with the devil - van halen 68. samarians - idles 69. send the pain below - chevelle 70. sex and violence - the exploited 71. the shining - badly drawn boy 72. simple man - deftones 73. slab - silverchair 74. song against sex - neutral milk hotel 75. story of isaac - leonard cohen 76. (they long to be) close to you - carpenters 77. thoroughfare - ethel cain 78. a trophy fathers trophy son - sleeping with sirens 79. two-headed boy - neutral milk hotel 80. two-headed boy pt. 2 - neutral milk hotel 81. unloveable - the smiths 82. wanted man - ratt 83. the weight - the band 84. western nights - ethel cain 85. what will you say - jeff buckley 86. whipping post - allman brothers band 87. you are a runner and i am my father's son - wolf parade 88. you can't always get what you want - the rolling stones 89. your flesh is so nice - jeff buckley 90. youth gone wild - skid row

#dean winchester #a lot of these are dean/john and sam/dean inspired btw #also i frequently add to my playlists so this is far from the final track listing #mine #mix

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kyogre-blue · 7 months

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CF, let's go!

Immediately more amusing than SS by virtue of the fact that I care about the enemy units. Yes, Rhea looks so cool, Flayn is so cool, Catherine yeeeeeah. Very nice, I'm very happy.

Jokes aside, CF is looking very interesting from the perspective of speculating about 3H's production process.

From what I recall of the interviews, it seems they added CF comparatively late, due to simping reasons. That's interesting in itself, because Edelgard was given a lot of focus in development, given stuff like the early drafts of her also being able to Divine Pulse. But I guess it was only later in that they realized that, yeah, giving her a route would be cool and probably the most unique thing they could do.

Anyway, given its weird development, CF has a lot of strangeness about it. It's the shortest route by a good margin (VW and AM have 10 chapter each, SS has 9 due to Gronder being cut, but CF has only 6). There is only one actually unique map, I believe (Tailtean), but the chapters are reshuffled in completely different order from VW-SS-AM having basically the exact same progression. At the same time, is a very obvious lack of pre-rendered cutscenes and even in-engine scenes to some extent.

So the impression I get is that it was added late, so they couldn't produce certain assets like cutscenes or more than six chapters, but at the same time, they had a lot more passion for it, since they created a unique progression and honestly Edelgard has been emoting more in one scene than the entire Academy phase.

My dudes.... perhaps you should have started from the villain route and just gone full in, instead of the limp-wristed SS stuff, which supposedly was written first out of everything.

Live blogging notes:

I like how Edelgard is in her school uniform during the pre-battle scene in the Holy Tomb, but is then in the Flame Emperor outfit post-battle. Girl took the time to change, I see. It's not really a huge deal, but it's so lacking in attention to detail, sigh.

Man, furious antagonist Rhea is so cool. Very nice.

The Immaculate One is just a still here, where it was always a cinematic in the other routes.

"The monsters that have controlled Fodlan in secret for far too long" Edelgard again attributing things the Agarthans have done to the Nabateans.

We book it. Only respect for Rhea.

Hum... all the BE students escape with us to one of the Imperial army's provisional camps. Except Flayn, obviously. The students give a mix of reasons why they're siding with Edelgard, and they're fine. Kinda mild, but whatever. The music really gets me. Cute bubbly track while everyone is like "well, I wasn't thinking and just ran" or "I have political reasons" and then it switches to Edelgard's imperial march theme, and man. It's really something.

Yeah, Edelgard's anti-Church pitch is kinda... lol. Given that her own henchmen was like "steal all the bones! desecrate those graves! kill everyone!"

"[The Church's] control over the lords of the Kingdom and the Alliance is nearly absolute" L M A O

This is hilarious. Admittedly already more fun than SS.

Edelgard admits to being well aware of how much chaos and destruction she is bringing about based on just her own will. She knows she is the cause of countless deaths. But she still says she wants to bring down the church.

Except, of course, the Church hasn't done anything to her lol Edelgard's manifesto will expose "the foul practices of the nobles from the Kingdom and Alliance" like what tho

Byleth is going to lead a special "Black Eagle Strike Force"

oh ho.... we're exploring a non-monastery area! very nice

Quickly noting: We skip the entire last month of Academy Phase, going from 2/29 for the Holy Tomb directly to 3/30 for the pre-assault camp.

Edelgard B: takes place in her monastery bedroom, which is funny at this juncture. She talks about how she'd like a day to just idle away and eat sweets, and also how without Byleth she would have become a harsh leader with a heart of ice (ok, sure) and how everyone else always treated her as an untouchable princess or emperor, didn't look her in the eye, etc. Ferdinand does not exist, I guess. It's very staple as a concept, but the details aren't really in place for this. At best, you can say this hinges more on her own perceptions -- she never respected anyone else until Byleth enough to let them approach her as anything except pawns and vassals. Self-imposed trials and all that.

Roundup of the kids: Ingrid wants to try to persuade her father to join Edelgard but thinks he probably won't, Caspar's father is leading the "western units" and he'd have had to fight him if he stayed at the monastery, Linhardt calls out that the biggest nobles in the empire stripped Edie's dad of his powers but are now supporting her to smoothly take the throne (weird!), Ferdie acknowledges that his father is greedy and arrogant but feels that he did a lot of work for the empire only to now be disgraced (stripped of his rank and under house arrest), Bernie has less thoughts in her head than Caspar, Felix has like two lines lol, Leonie is just directly with Byleth and no one else, Ashe emphasizes that he can't trust the Church after Lonato and Christophe, Sylvain is kind of mess, thinking of his father, Dimitri, how he might die in the fighting, etc.

Hubert says it's not up to Edelgard to bring the students to our cause, which is... kinda wild. Why is it not up to her. Based on the rest of the dialogue, he means the recruited students from other houses, but uuuh given 3H quality, I expect he says this even if you haven't recruited, and also the phrasing is very vague to begin with.

Garreg Mach has never been attacked, so no one really knows how well it can stand against assault. Edelgard is confident in our power "from a mathematical standpoint."

Ladislava leads Edelgard's personal guard. There's also Randolph von Bergliez. His mother married into Caspar's family but this was after his birth. Unclear if this means he's from a previous relationship of hers, or if he wasn't legitimized despite being from a Bergliez fling. That explains one random battle line I got from him when attacking as Caspar on SS.

There's a couple stray comments from NPCs about Rhea turning into a beast (which happened down in the Holy Tomb where only a few people were, so... curious an NPC knows) and about not entirely believing Edelgard but supporting her for now.

Overall battle plan for the assault: Edelgard (+Byleth) leads an elite force that strikes as close to the monastery as possible, planning to draw attention of the elite Knights and Rhea's ire. Meanwhile, the main forces that marched in from the capital will surround and "annihilate" the remaining areas.

Another still of the Immaculate One after the battle, no CG. The entire scene is just one still, headshots of models talking and some filter to show that "the castle" is "crumbling." And that's it, wow.

Without Rhea fighting Thales and trying to save Byleth, she's well enough to flee to Faerghus. Nice!

Dimitri is King <3

Claude "strategically stirs up conflict between Leicester lords in an effort to maintain neutrality" lmao

Sothis is cool with you even after the Edelgard simping shenanigans, I guess.

The Imperial Army is holding the monastery, which is different from the other routes.

Edelgard emotes?? At the reunion with Byleth. WOW

Another still, no cutscene.

Edelgard's dialogue here... has almost the exact same beats as Claude's which is a bit funny.

Recap again that Dimitri is King and supporting the Church, Claude is being neutral, though Edelgard makes it clear this is a negative. His leadership "has thrown the Alliance into chaos."

OK, so Edelgard directly says we're going to eliminate the Church, the Kingdom and the Allaince. We're out to get them all, and the first target is Claude because Riegan has been standing against the Empire. To secure a route for imperial troops into the Alliance, we'll take out the big bridge first. At the same time, we'll take out Judith and since her territory is on the border with the Kingdom, getting her out of the way will be useful too.

#playing fire emblem

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mahvaladara · 4 months

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Vy, who sat upstairs, lifted his head from the journal he was reading. He had found Arlo's collection of journals and after checking through a few he picked one at random to read. It felt incredibly voyeuristic to read all that was in there, but the more he read, the more his impression of Arlo changed. He was reading the inner thoughts of an extremely depressed teenager, the type of teenager he often placed under suicide watch. Visceral descriptions of his physical pain, of the abuse and bullying he suffered. At moments he'd lift his head and look at his son then at the sleeping man in bed.

Vy: 'Today my dad asked me again if I wanted to change schools. Says I'm self-destructive... I wonder if it makes Apollo feel horrible for silently consenting to my abuse. To stand there idle and do nothing. Watch me be beaten up and beaten down everyday I step into a hallway just trying to look invisible.’

‘He chooses to do nothing, the same way I choose to endure this. In a way, it's a little victory to show them they cannot kill me. Not that I haven't tried. But no manner of abuse, no manner of torture can kill me. I am still standing here, broken, in pain, emotionally and psychologically destroyed, I am rotting filth waiting to expire... but it will be time to take me, not them, and they despise me for it. And he loathes the guilt and the hatred he feels for me.”

“Hating me makes him feel guilty. He feels responsible for the monster he has created. It's the only thing that makes me smile, knowing that simply existing enrages him. Yet... sometimes I stand on top of the crane and think... What if I jumped? Would I finally be released? Or would there only be pain? I know the answer, but I guess I am insane. I keep doing the same mistakes hoping to get a different outcome..."

#ts4 story #the sims 4 story #the imortal #gen 1 #vy #fannar #arlo

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biibob · 10 months

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Seven Sins, One Redemption

The embers in the hearth flickered and crackled, casting dancing shadows on the grandeur of the regal library. I am not just a man; I am the embodiment of the Seven Deadly Sins, each one woven into the tapestry of my existence, like a novel written in the ink of vice. Pride was my favorite sin, a sin I wore like an ornate cloak. As a celebrated author, I relished in my vanity. My words were not just adored, but worshipped. Every book launch, every signed copy, every adoring fan fed this insatiable monster within me. I was convinced I was better, smarter, untouchable. Yet, a solitary letter changed everything. An anonymous critic wrote, "Your words are nothing but monotonous thunder under an empty sky." That hurt me, chipping away at my towering vanity.

I was also consumed by Envy. I envied my friend's talent for painting, the way he captured emotions on a canvas like catching fireflies in a jar. I was resentful of the ease with which he could enchant an audience, a skill I lacked. So, I schemed and stole one of his masterpieces, hanging it in my mansion, silently claiming it as my own. Greed found its home in me too. My immense fortune never satisfied me. I wanted more — more money, more power, more control. I had been presented with the opportunity to exploit my employees for extra profits. In my relentless pursuit of wealth, I didn't hesitate.

But gluttony, oh Gluttony, was a beast of a different kind. I dined on the finest delicacies, drank the most exquisite wines, hosted the most lavish parties. It was never about the pleasure of taste or the joy of gathering. It was about excess, about drowning my insecurities in an ocean of indulgence. Lust was not just about the carnal desire, but the lust for life, for experiencing every forbidden pleasure. I desired everything I could not have. It led me down a path of broken relationships, empty promises, and a void within me that kept growing.

I was a ticking bomb of Wrath. My anger was an inferno that consumed all in its path, leaving scorched trails of regret. I had lost friends, tarnished relationships, and created a wall of isolation around me due to my uncontrollable rage. Lastly, Sloth held me in its lethargic grip. Despite having the potential to create and inspire, I spent my days in idle contemplation, procrastinating, wasting away my talent.

The Seven Deadly Sins had weaved a destructive path through my life. It was an evening of reckoning as I confronted my distorted reflection in the mirror, acknowledging each sin. I felt a spark of something I hadn't felt in a long time, a longing to change, a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, I thought, it wasn't too late to shed these sins. Perhaps, there was still time to write a new chapter, a chapter of redemption.

— biibob, 07/15.

#literature #poem #poetry

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murder-incarnate · 7 months

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got the cutscene you get by casting Heal on durge so it's time to yell about my girl. some general backstory talk, centered on abaddon specifically though some details can apply to all durges. rambly, as i often am

abaddon realizing that there was a time BEFORE the Urge (at the same time she remembers her late foster family) would be. so hard. she has this realization like a day or two after the whole shindig at the temple of bhaal, so being free of the Urge is still real new to her. post-amnesia pre-disinheritance, she literally has no recollection of a time when she didn't have the Urge compelling her, didn't have a constant stream of violent compulsions and fantasies pretty much only broken by sleep containing violent nightmares. after a certain point in her travels she starts to assume that's just How It's Always Been, especially after the bhaalspawn reveal. clearly this has just always been a part of her. she starts assuming there's no other way to exist. so being revived post-bhaal to a quiet brain is fucking revolutionary. didn't know it did that! didn't know it could! in a way it's a relief to know that there's enough of her to exist outside of the Urge, that it's not so essential to Who She Is that she can't continue Being. doesn't fully know how to process that but it's nice. gets to figure out who she is now.

but. learning that it WASN'T always there. that there was a time when she was a normal kid and not just murder on two legs. that's... better? worse? mostly it just makes her sad. and angry. mostly sad. like, okay, so the Urge came later, it was activated, maybe still a part of her in a way but confirmed not essential. nice to have a little extra bit of separation. abaddon still tries to take responsibility for the horrors she committed, what she can and can't remember, but it's at least a little comforting knowing it wasn't ALL her, in a way. there was Influence. but at the same time, fuck. that normalcy was taken from her. this clear mind she has now, she could've ALWAYS had it if the Urge never awakened inside her. she could've lived a normal life with a foster family she can only remember slivers of now. so, so many people could still be alive, wouldn't have suffered because of her at least. she wouldn't have this blood on her hands or these horrible memories. this knowledge that even if she's better now, she was a monster for a long time. the Urge caused so much pain and destruction that could've been avoided if she'd just stayed a normal kid. and that fucking hurts! it's a feeling of loss, almost. longing for a life bhaal didn't allow her to have.

i think even before the Urge awakened, abaddon had violent inclinations. she was still bhaalspawn in the truest sense, and violence was natural to her. but it wasn't overpowering and constant and obsessive the way it became later. as a baby she was more impulsive, harder to deal with, bit and scratched and kicked and hit, but a loving adoptive family helped. taught her compassion, taught her kindness. and i think beyond the impulses, kindness came naturally to her, too. she was a sweet kid. especially gentle because she knew her impulses were mean and she took extra care not to be. it was a conscious effort not to lash out, but she didn't think much of it. you have to be nice and good even when it's easier not to be. that's what good people do, and her parents were raising her to be a good person. she WANTED to be good.

(the description of her being a lion but with a gentle tag touch ruined me a little. little abaddon with the capacity for violence but who chose to be kind and play nice!)

and then the Urge awakened. very suddenly, i think. the quiet background noise she'd learned to easily ignore became a roar, turned from distant, idle thoughts into active need. her blood was boiling and her head was pounding and she was overwhelmed. she didn't understand what was happening, she was scared and confused and starving for something she'd never had and didn't know how to get. i think she sought out her parents, because what else would a kid do when something scary is happening?

i think when she found them, she was only in control of herself in the loosest sense. she didn't know how to resist when her body started moving to enact the violent images in her mind. she didn't have the time to THINK about resisting. hell, at first she didn't even know she was about to do something she had to resist. she just saw her family and started moving. grabbed a knife from the kitchen and. well. y'know. as a sorcerer magic was probably a feature but the knife was the star tbh

partly because of this one note that can be found in the temple, i picture violence and murder especially basically just exploding all the pleasure centers in abaddon’s brain once the Urge is active. just absolutely drown her in dopamine. a reward. a treat. brain loves murder. as an adult, she learns to manage the craving and her reaction to indulging, at least somewhat, so she doesn't just lose complete control. most of the time. but it was the first time abaddon had ever experienced this feeling and any horror at what she was doing (certainly plenty of that) was drowned out by the oppressive need for More. i picture her wide eyed and horrified with tears streaking down her face as she slashes and stabs over and over again. keeps stabbing after the movement stops.

it's implied by the narrative that abaddon wasn't the only child in the family, and that she killed them to. i'm picturing a brother. so either him coming into the room at all the commotion or her mechanically seeking him out after their parents.

when it was all done, after she tired herself out, i think she was still equal parts hysterical and feral. none of it felt real and she hoped it was a dream but she wasn't waking up. still scared, more confused now than at the start because she didn't understand why that felt GOOD when she felt so horrible about doing it. i think the butler showed up around that point to introduce himself and praise her and whisk her away to the temple. and dodge a few attacks (that he also praised, love that enthusiasm, excellent, keep practising and you'll be killing me in no time, master!!) since she was still freshly in Murder Mode. she was still scared and confused, especially now that this little imp dude showed up all excited about the murder, but like. SOMEONE seemed to know what was going on, and he was an adult pleasantly and confidently telling her what to do when she'd never felt more lost, and what else was she going to do? stay there? she killed everyone who was there. so of course she went with him. though i do like the idea of her shakily telling him she was told not to go anywhere with strangers and him like hmm i wonder who told you that with a pointed glance at the bodies on the floor. abaddon giving just a little hiccup in response.

i won’t go too much into what happens after because that's another post and this one has already spun out of control. but abaddon didn't have much of a chance at defying her Urge after that. her only influences were people who eagerly encouraged her to give in and praised her when she did, and her body was now hard-wired to respond very positively to murder and violence and blood and gore. i think the feeling bad about it lasted a little longer and she did weakly try to hold back and Be Good, but. she was a kid. she was fighting alone against multiple internal and external forces. she was actively being brainwashed. she didn't stand a chance. eventually the feeling bad would stop, partly as a defense mechanism and partly because she was being told NOT to feel bad. i don't think she ever felt GOOD about her family, or looked back on the memory with much fondness, it was too traumatic to fully salvage. but she would try to spin it into some kind of positive. it was the start of something she came to enjoy, the introduction to a new life, the introduction to her father. it had to happen. it was good that it happened. she stopped missing them eventually, mostly because she aggressively avoided thinking about them. letting herself feel any guilt or grief over this first kill could have sully her feelings over the rest of her kills and she wouldn't allow that. if anyone but the butler asked about her first kill, she probably cited a different early experience so she could more happily share the details. also just sounds better to describe a time she was in actual control of herself.

god what was my original point. i was talking about abaddon realizing she had a life before the Urge and the tragedy of losing that. so this is all kinda related. i don't think she ever gets back all of these memories, the most she'll ever get are bits and pieces. roughly sixty years are just lost to her. but the bits she DOES get of her life, and her life before bhaal, it just. it makes her sad. sad for that kid having so much fun playing tag. where would she be now if she'd gotten the chance to be normal.

okay that's enough, post over

#abaddon tag #durge tag

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jeweled-blue-eyes · 2 years

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Letter from Koshigoe

The famous "Koshigoe letter," depicted here, is a 12th century document written by Minamoto no Yoshitsune to Minamoto no Yoritomo from the city of Koshigoe. It represents the turning point in Yoshitsune's career. Despite his heroism, which helped crush the Heike in three major battles, and his repeated oaths of allegiance to his lord and elder brother Yoritomo, Yoritomo feared Yoshitsune as a potential rival and denied him entry into the Minamoto clan headquarters at Kamakura. The "Koshigoe letter" was Yoshitsune's final plea to Yoritomo for understanding and is so heart-wrenching that, according to the account in Gikeiki, it drew tears from Yoritomo, although he had already set his mind on eliminating his younger brother. The letter is a "mixture of bravado and an almost masochistic indulgence in misfortune."

To His Excellency the Governor of Inaba: (Oe no Hiromoto)

“I, Minamoto Yoshitsune, venture to address you.

Having overthrown the enemies of the court and erased the infamy of military defeat as His Lordship's deputy and the bearer of an imperial commission, I had supposed that my deeds would be commended; yet, to my distress, pernicious slanders have caused accomplishments of uncommon merit to be ignored. Though innocent, I am blamed; though deserving, and guilty of no error, I have incurred His Lordship's displeasure. What can I do but weep bitter tears! Since I have not been permitted to refute false accusations, or even to enter Kamakura, I have been obliged to remain idle for days, with no means of expressing my feelings. I have been denied the privilege of seeing His Lordship for so long that the blood bond between us seems to have vanished. Is this the karma of a previous existence? Am I being punished for evil acts committed in my last life? Alas! Unless the august spirit of my late father chances to be reborn, who will plead my cause or pity my condition?

At the risk of appearing querulous, I must say to you that never since birth have I enjoyed a moment's peace of mind - never, from the time of my journey in my mother's arms to Uda District in Yamato, an infant orphaned by my father's death. Though able to preserve my useless life, I could not safely frequent the capital but was obliged to skulk in out-of-the-way places, dwell in distant lands, and serve commoners. When at last, through sudden good fortune, I was sent to the capital to crush the Taira clan, I first punished Kiso Yoshinaka and then set about the destruction of the Heike. I whipped my mount over precipitous cliffs, heedless of life in the face of the enemy; I braved the perils of wind and wave on the boundless sea, ready to sink to the bottom as food for monsters of the deep. Battle dress was my pillow; arms were my profession - yet, as in the past, my sole desire was to comfort the unhappy spirits of the dead. As regards my appointment as a lieutenant of fifth rank, was that not a remarkable honor for a member of our family? Yet how deep is my present misery; how acute my suffering! Despairing of obtaining a hearing through any means short of divine assistance, I have repeatedly submitted oaths of loyalty inscribed on the backs of talismans from temples and shrines in Japan, and by the spirits of the underworld, but no pardon has been granted.

This is the land of the gods. Since the gods consider my petitions unworthy, my sole remaining recourse is to implore you to do me the kindness of bringing this message to His Lordship's attention at a suitable time in order to persuade him of my innocence. Once his forgiveness is secured, my heirs and I will rejoice in the "superabundant happiness of accumulated goodness" and I will end my life in peace.

Finding it impossible to write as I feel, I have confined myself to bare essentials.

Humbly and respectfully submitted,

Minamoto Yoshitsune.

Fifth day, sixth month, second year of Genryaku”

#history #minamoto no yoshitsune

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factual-fantasy · 4 years

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Its done! Its all finally done!! All 16 cars! Man, this took like, what, two weeks?? This is one of the biggest and riskiest projects I’ve done in a long while. My hands are bruised and sore and I hope now more than ever that this was all worth it! And yes, the two mystery cars were Dragsters all along! If you’re wondering how a race car like that can be even remotely similar to a Tank, a Tractor, a bathtub with an Engine, a little tikes car, AND a power wheels... well, they’ve got a butt ton of power, they’ve got the biggest friggin tires EVER, they’re basically just flat bowls with pipe legs and an engine, and they’re most certainly toys so... kinda? Also the whole “You’ll wonder what’s in my family basement” thing? They’re trophies. Lots of them.

And I know the names aren’t cool Transformer names, I just wrote down their main name as what they are most commonly called.

Also, I bet you’ve noticed that my persona is in a few of the drawings? Well I put myself beside the cars that are my favorites. The very first drawing, Suburban, being my all time favorite.

Now what I have after the keep reading is a list of summary’s for each cars personality. You absolutely do not have to read them, but I worked hard on it and think they’re cool so.. I at least encourage you to take a lil peek. :}

So you wanna learn more ey? Well let me give you a little summary on their personalities!

Note: Some of the cars’s pictures have been taken from google because I didn’t actually have a picture of the car in my camera roll. And The google image is not identical to the actual car, its just the closest thing I could find. Also for privacy reasons, I will not say the name, age, gender or relation of the drivers of the cars or how many drivers there are in total. And also for privacy reasons, all the cars aside from the google images have been cropped or blurred to hide the background.

Also I am writing their descriptions as if they are real Transformers and have met some of the real Autobots.

Now, to the cars!

Suburban: Is my favorite out of all our cars. Suburban is similar to Bulkhead in may ways, he looks kind’a like him, he is gentle, considerate and kind to those around him. Big and small. Although he isn’t a meat head, he’s a smart guy that thinks everything through before doing it to ensure everyone’s safety. And he isn’t a Wrecker, or a Soldier, he’s a field medic. He uses his size and strength to charge into battle and retrieve wounded soldiers. He tows people out of harms way and uses himself as a shield to protect, not to harm. Although he can kick aft if it is necessary. Because he is not super chatty, is very compliant and polite, he gets along great with Ratchet.

Miata: Miata is a very squirrely scout and energetic go get’er. She’s always bouncing off the walls and just itching to get back out onto the road and show the other bots just what she can do! Although she isn’t an air head and knows when to joke around and when to take things seriously. She points that energy in the right direction while out on the battlefield. She is one of the faster bots of the bunch and always uses that to her advantage during fights. She’s real witty and clever, so she gets along pretty well with U.M.Dragster. She seems to always be smiling and laughing, so just like Escort, she really brightens everyone up where ever she goes.

Escort: One of my favorite cars. Escort is a very old bot that has been through quite a bit. In real life its idle is so quiet you cant even tell the car is on. But I always kind’a pictured him having a tendency to be a bit chatty. He is a really nice guy but there seems to always be something wrong with him physically, He is a recurring patient in the docs office for sure. He is very small, not strong at all and not particularity fast.. but boy is he smart. He is an Engineer turned backup medic, He can fix just about anything and always manages to bounce back from any and every situation. Mentally and physically. He is really positive and normally brightens up the team because of it. He is polite to everyone and easy to get along with, all he wants to do is help people and not be a burden.

Brown Suburban: The Brown Suburban is a bot of few words, the strong and quiet type you know? However despite being normally quiet, he has the best laugh there is. The only time this old lug smiles is if he’s laughing. Which is probably partly why him and U.M.Dragster are such inseparable friends, U.M.Dragster is the only bot that can make him laugh. Brown is a guy that can handle a lot, when it comes to annoying kids or injuries, its difficult to get him wound up. He’s just too tired to bother getting upset or worked up over the little things. He’s not too easy to talk to because of the lac of response you normally get, but I assure you he listens to every word you say.

U.M.Dragster: U.M.Dragster is surprisingly our youngest car, currently standing at only 14 years old. And obviously, he is by far the fastest of our cars, he’s even faster than his sister. He is fast, witty, and courageous, but cant dead lift scrap. As a transformer, he’s an energetic young scout that somehow is friends with the big lug Brown Suburban. Some people think Brown only likes him because U.M.Dragster makes him laugh. Now, U.M.Dragster is guy that knows if he was just given another chance, he would really light up the race track. He can be a real stinker most of the time, but generally he’s real sweet and honestly just wants to be worth something again.

A.T.Dragster: A.T. Dragster is U.M.s big sister and our oldest car, currently standing at 51 years old. She is a lively spirit, and most certainly carries that big sister energy with the other Autobots, not just with her brother. She is a kind bot that uses her speed and agility to help out in any way she can. She just wants to help, and be of use again. She does everything in her power to stay alive and keep fighting. She tends to be a little more laid back compared to the other Autobots and doesn’t seem to get surprised by anything easily.

Green Truck: One of my favorites, and our second to oldest car. He has most certainly been there and done that. He has seen it all, war, injuries, death, betrayal, he’s heard all kind’s of screams and cries, all kinds of destruction.. He’s too tired to dwell on the memories anymore, he just focuses his energy on helping out in any way he can now that he’s back in the game. He’s a big guy, and despite his age, he is one of our strongest cars, standing in second place. He’s someone that knows that when duty calls, you just have to suck it up and get dirty work over with. And of course, due to his age he is a frequent flyer in the med bay. But he tries to not let that get him down. He’s still in fighting shape and can stand on his own two pedes. He fits something that Peter Cullen’s brother once said, “Be strong enough to be gentle”. Green Truck at his core is just an old soft hearted bot that gets along really well with basically everyone.. and just wants this stupid war to end.

Vega: Although Vega is very old, he’s one of the fastest guys on the team, but he isn’t one to brag. He is a frequent flyer in the med bay after all. He’s a humble bot, who still has so much more life left to live. He’s not really shy, but he’s normally a bit quiet around the other bots. He’s still adjusting to being around so many people again and trying to get his barrings back when it comes to fighting. Like every other Autobot, he’s a nice guy and is pretty easy to talk to because he’s a good listener. But don’t let him get too comfortable with you, because then he’ll be the one talking your ear off. Vega isn’t necessarily the smart one of the group, he’s better at just being told what to do and doing it how ever he can. Vega is also a bit nervous around Humans. He’s new to Earth and not great with kids, he has so much to learn it gives him a headache just thinking about it. No, Vega isn’t really the smart one, he’s the strong and fast one. He’s a Soldier. He’s a monster out on the track and can beat the snot out of you if he needs to.

Red Van: Red Van is the Mamma bot for sure. She may be a van, but she’s a real hot rod. In her eyes, everyone is her baby. Even Optimus. She goes to great lengths to ensure their safety and always puts them first. She is a nurse and is always checking up on everyone and worrying about them. She can be really sweet, and she adjusted to being around the Human children faster than any of the other bots did. Although she does have a tendency to be a bit chatty, she really does help to brighten up the atmosphere where ever she is. Because of the motherly vibe she gives off, the other bots feel more comfortable around her and normally go to her to talk about their problems.

White Truck: White Truck is a real go getter and is always ready to lend a helping hand whenever its needed. He may not be very fast, or very strong, but he’s fairly big and can still hold himself decently in a fight. He is also pretty smart, he isn’t a certified engineer but he knows his way around most gadgets. He’s careful with Humans and wants to better understand them, but he still has a lot to learn. He’s really kind and tries his best to help out in anyway he can, when ever he can.

Beluga: Beluga is a really chirpy and bubbly person, She gets along very well with Humans and bots alike. Although she is a completely different person on the battlefield. Some would even call her ruthless. When asked, she explains that she tries to be very kind to everyone all the time and just bottles up her anger and frustration over anything and everything. Big or small. And then later proceeds to release that anger out on the battlefield. All and all though she doesn't like to hurt people. Bad guy or not.. but because of how she handles stress and because of her physical strength being very great, she believes she can better help others by being a soldier.

Honda: Honda has never been one for close combat, no, she prefers long distance, so chose to put her already acquired skills to the test as a fighter pilot instead. Opting to not see her enemy as she kills them.. Like Beluga, she doesn’t really want to hurt anyone. Honda is a smart girl that can pilot and repair almost any kind of Cybertronian aircraft. Honda gets along wonderfully with the Human children, and just Humans in general. She is very patient with them and always remembers to be very gentle. Shes a really sweet young bot that can be a bit shy at times, but is normally very bright and bubbly. Her and little sister Beluga are inseparable.

Ranger: Ranger is a tough gal for sure. If Cybertron had a word for Cowgirl, it would be used to describe her. At her core, she has a soft spot for those she considers family and would do anything to protect those she cares about. At times she can be very laid back, but she most certainly knows when fun times over and when things are getting serious. Something most people don’t really know about her is that she has a deep fascination with Earths Oceans and other bodies of water. Any chance she gets while scouting or something similar, she likes to stop by a river nearby and just watch the water flow curiously. Because of her soft spot, she cares very deeply about the Autobots and despises the Decepticons. Primarily because their very existence is a danger to her friends lives.

Volvo: Volvo is the silent type for sure. He is extremely intelligent and has no time for chit chat. If he discovers a subject that he doesn’t know anything about and that he also believes could be useful information, he will work tirelessly to learn every single thing possible about that subject. He is a hard worker and takes everything seriously, he has no time for jokes and games. Him and Ultra Magnus get along swell. Although despite this all, Humans intrigue him, and he wants to learn more about them. So despite him and Magnus being virtually the same in most ways, he does partake in Human shenanigans to “learn more about their species and culture”.

Jeepy: Jeepy is a real hot shot, but the friendly kind. He thinks Humans are a riot and fun to play around with. Jeepy normally isn’t particularly careful with Humans because he hasn’t fully grasped the fact that Humans all have this genetic condition called uh, fragile. So a side effect of that is he takes Miko on these crazy dangerous fun rides in secret because Bulkhead has common sense wont take her. He may have his moments of not thinking things through.. but he truly means well and would never intentionally hurt an ally, same species or not. If he knew better, he would be more careful. He’s got a big heart and his drive to fight comes from wanting to protect others and end this war. To end the suffering of his friends. Of the Autobots.

Bash Buggy: If you know anything about Overwatch, he’s basically Junkrat, just not on fire 24/7. He takes weekends off. Now, Buggy is an Autobot, so his spark is in the right place, and at his core he is a genuinely good person. He’s just a little weird you know? He’s got a few screws loose here and there.. and a missing fender.. or two.. and a trunk.. and his back seats.. and an optic.. ANYWAY, despite his ragged appearance, he is not dumb. In fact, he is actually very smart, and disturbingly calculated when it comes to his explosives. Buggy actually makes all of his own grenades and is pretty knowledgeable when it comes to other kinds of weapons and how to repair them. But he’s no medic that’s for sure. Although he is generally smart, he’s kind’a of a dunce when it comes to the severity of injuries because of how durable he is. He could be in blinding pain and bleeding out of every crack and crevasse, and just go, ”Let me go back out there chief! I can still fight! ୧⍢⃝୨”.

#my ocs #transformers #transformer ocs

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kaiju-wolfdragon · 8 months

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Drawings of I am monster idle destruction monster part 2

Here's the other two monsters in the game i drew, any favorites?

#my oc art #g/t #g/t art #kaiju #i am monster #i am monster game #I Am Monster idle destruction #artica #beaster

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hackdl · 5 years

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I Am Monster: Idle Destruction Hack 1.3.6 (MOD,Unlimited Energy) Apk + Mod - Action & Exciteful "I'm Monster" Android+ Mod Mod

#i am monster: idle destruction unlocked apk

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tumblingxelian · 4 years

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Lie Ren’s Arc, a Mini Essay:

Idle thought on Lie Ren.

A lot of viewers seemed to think that Ren's character arc began and ended with the Nuck Grimm, but I feel that can't be further from the truth, and I'm gonna go into why here:

So, we all know Ren, he mostly played a secondary and or supporting role in the early volumes a JNPR never got that involved in the plot. Most of what we saw was a almost supernaturally chill and slightly awkward but supportive guy who was very skilled but may have lacked the stamina of some of his allies.

Due to never getting closely tied to the plot, we didn't see much beneath the surface because he was mostly dealing with school drama, but then the Fall of Beacon happened and we see him so wounded he can't even stand, stubbornly trying to go save Pyrrha & Jaune anyway, this I feel is a pretty good sign that Ren is not nearly as chill beneath the surface.

Following that, V4 is what gives Ren and to a lesser extent Nora, real time to shine.

We learn about his home and is destruction at the hands of a Grimm.

We learn about his fathers last words of wisdom demanding he take action.

We see that his Semblance let's him hide & suppress Aura & emotions, which puts his supernatural chill into question.

Then when he encounters the Nuck, he unsurprisingly looses his cool entirely, racing in headlong against a Grimm well suited for fighting his style and almost getting himself killed. Its only Nora dragging him back to a near state of calm that stops this and he particpates in a plan that allows him the chance to effectively execute the Grimm that ruined his life.

Now one can talk about the morality of the act both in general and in regards to Grimm until they are blue in the face but I am more interested in his words. Specifically his speech about taking vengeance for the people killed, he notes his parents and then, himself. Or in other words, some part of Ren sees himself as having been effectively killed by this Grimm.

So even ignoring that while vengeance may be cathartic its still no replacement for therapy, the fact that Ren views himself as such, had to be made to calm down and afterwards while more openly affectionate with Nora, never actually talks about, well, any of that, to me shows his story isn't over, so much as it is just beginning.

Things are pretty chill in V5, which is unsurprising given RNJR's segment is thematically tied to the same sense of comfort & complacency that Ozpin previously had at Beacon that he can't see he's lost. Plus why wouldn't he be calm, he slew the monster that took his parents, they are in a literal safe haven, they have skilled and experienced adults provided stability and a plan of action against a dangerous foe, but one he has every reason to think they can defeat, an idea driven home by Ozpin's claim that they would be defeating Salem as he once failed to do.

Then it all starts coming apart at the seems in V6.

They lose half their team, they lose Ozpin and find out that Ozpin was lying about not only Salem being a foe they can defeat in the traditional sense, but even about so much as having a plan to stop her. He's obviously left tense, frustrated and adrift by this, barely even reacting when Jaune assaults Oscar and only seeming to calm when he's providing some kind of support to his allies or engaging in an operation.

Or in other words, the shock from the realization about Salem's immortality was never addressed. Team RWBY had a miniature arc dealing with the dangers of apathy, surrender and hopelessness, Jaune had a meeting with his martyr'ed team mates mother that helped give him closure and resolve, but Ren & Nora didn't get that,but while Nora wears her heart on her sleeve, Ren only reveals his problems when he cannot control himself anymore.

Thus, as it is we have established that Ren is a bubbling pot of emotions beneath the calm and has never really been shown addressing or dealing with this issues. We see that he sometimes struggles to keep up with his allies & will fling himself heedlessly into danger for them even when he can't fight and that on some level he views himself as having died as a child and finally that Ren usually only returns to "normal" when given structure and a goal to work towards.

With all that set up and established, I feel that Ren beginning to embrace Ironwood's hard line, heavy handed approach and (He thinks) emotionally disconnected approach. Why wouldn't he? Ironwood is providing him a goal, steps to accomplish, the sense that he is actually making progress and accomplishing something, all while presenting the image of someone who has everything together, despite much like Ren Ironwood being a mess beneath the surface.

This was further not helped by the fact he and Nora have always clearly communicated very differently, when things are calm this isn't a problem because they generally had no disruptions in their shared rhythm. But Salem, Atlas, Ren's trauma, that is throwing everything into wack and its clear they've never really had a problem like this before, and don't know how to resolve it, especially when Ren's default method of dealing with emotional problems is to shut down or hide his feelings while Nora doesn't know any other way to communicate than her own because up until now she's never needed to know Ren's.

Ren is a deeply wounded young man who I don't feel has ever tried to deal with his trauma or learn to manage his emotions in a more healthy way; he wants to protect those he loves and feel like he's actually doing something worthwhile with a life he doesn't wholly feel is his own and Atlas provided all of that to him when he was near his lowest point.

Now with all of them declared enemy's of the state, the Relic lost and Salem at their doorstep, I think Ren is going to have entered a new stage in his character arc and development.

#RWBY #Lie Ren #RWNY Analyse

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loki-darkprince-odinson · 3 years

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I like you as a character but unlike everyone I wouldn’t say you’re “not evil just MiSuNdErStOoD”. You’ve done some pretty terrible things. I understand it’s because you were hurt and lied to by your family I mean I’d be pissed too but that doesn’t protect you from your terrible actions. Im not going to ingnore them just cause you got a pretty face. Though I do believe you can and were becoming a better person....before you died...

“Did you not think, with all your odoriferous moaning, that your jagged words would not make their way on soot-stained wings back to me? I admit, I knew not the source of them at first, so little did I think of the ones much like yourself who malign me with no other option but to infect themselves with their own diseased tongues, but now that you have brought yourself to my attention, I believe you will regret it. A mage's memory is long and his ways cunning. 'Trickster' is not always a playful appellation, as you will find out." Loki folded his arms, gazing out over the expanse before him, his words drifting on the merest puff of breath. He couldn't find it in himself to be affected by such idle gossip and hollow opinions; so often had it been aimed at him in the past. It seemed a constant in his life now, background noise, but every once in awhile, someone screamed out for his recognition.

Loki took great joy in denying them.

"Your malice and harsh judgement towards me consumes you and yet I have no idea who you are. Nor do I care. It must be infuriating to be such an insignificant little mortal, a tiny being spinning around on a primitive rock. You claim to understand my reasonings yet you know precious little of my air. I am blamed for wrath and destruction when so many others who are hailed heroes have committed crimes far worse than I. That the ant has a quarrel with the boot makes it no less an ant nor the boot any less a boot.”

Loki took a moment to reminisce on the events of the past. There was one single moment, one single word, where everything could be traced back to. On the Bifrost, when Odin had told him no and he had let go in response. That moment was when the cascade of events truly began. Perhaps if Odin had said something else, if he had returned to Asgard instead of fallen, then things would have been so much different.

Still, it was a wish and there was nothing he could do to go back and change that moment. The past was the past, and Odin was gone. Loki sighs, biting his lip for a moment to keep the emotion it still drug up in. He was only partially successful. There were things it was best not to ruminate upon, and this was one of them.

"No, Loki."

All his hopes and dreams, all his efforts, dashed in two words. It was at that moment that he had decided there was no place for him in Asgard and that there never would be. If neither Odin nor Thor could see that he was trying to protect them, that he could defeat Jotunheim just as Thor has tried to, then they would never see. He would always be Loki the failure, Loki the lesser, Loki the monster and outsider. Better to fall and perish than to live in shame and ignominy.

It was that fall that brought him into the hands of the Chitauri and ultimately, Thanos. Where he was tortured, his most powerful asset broken into, then controlled by the mind stone housed within the scepter to be warped into their own personal demi-god.

He smiles to himself, and something like a laugh nearly made it to his breastbone, but not quite. Loki eyes sweep back and forth. Like a vulture waiting in a tree above feasting lions as he stares down at them imperiously.

“I needn’t protection from my actions. Nor do I have to defend them from the likes of you. Redemption is over-rated. And this pretty face is still very much alive.” His voice purrs and thrums.

A sinister smile plays across his gentle mouth, his eyes glowing iridescently as green flames lick the fingertips of his left hand. Loki lifted his hand, and slowly rubbed his fingers together, languidly humming under his breath. With the snap of his fingers, he casts a silent spell on the unfortunate mortal. For now, when mean words or harsh judgment is wrongly directed towards another by them, a permanent blemish shall appear on their face to show just how ugly their heart truly is.

“I would be careful with my tongue if I were you.”

Loki lifted his chin and turned with a flourish, quietly singing a haunting tune to himself as he confidently walks away.

"His warring and his deadly wrath

Were widely seen, and far

And near that scather of the Goths wronged them with hate and brought them low

And then ere break of day

Betook him to his hoard again in secret hall that lay.....”

#loki #loki rp #loki odinson #loki roleplay #ask Loki #ask

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youngster-monster · 3 years

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The City v. Ahamkara

Prologue - Bloody and Raw

The way back is a blur. Cayde can’t tell if he’s moving through a dream or reality, if he’s moving or sitting still with the world flowing around him. It comes to him in disjointed snapshots, brief bursts of movement before everything freezes again like an old laggy monitor. Fire from the wreckage of the Prison; a gunshot; Petra’s voice, concerned, and his own, distant to his own ears, pantomiming humor even though he has no idea what words are leaving his mouth.

Through all of it the only tangible constant is a hand wrapped around his wrist. Razel, his brain supplies, insistent even as a part of him argues back, not quite. He thinks he can feel claws scratch lightly against the painted surface of his arm. It’s false, of course. He can’t feel input that sensitive usually and certainly not now, with half of his receptors shot to hell. Maybe his processor is making up for lost feedback with imagined ones. Not reality as much as what he expects reality to be like — new, and absurd, and scratchy like a bird perched on his arm and poking its tiny little bird-claws into the joint of his wrist to keep its balance.

Perhaps the pinprick of not-quite-pain is impossible but what isn’t, today?

He’s walking on his own two feet, although there’s a great deal more stumbling than walking involved: that’s one. He won’t call it a miracle but it’s a struggle to find a word that fits the impossible-made-possible just as well.

Sundance is dead. He forces himself to think the whole sentence, even though it hurts like a bitch in a deep part of himself he’d rather not look at. Better to have it hurt now than fester in the dark and poison him. He’s seen what that kind of grief does to guardians. There’s a good reason so few of them survive the initial loss of their Ghost. He never thought he would, himself: anything good enough to kill Sundance would surely get him, too.

But it didn’t. That’s another for the Impossible tally he’s keeping for himself.

Razel’s grip tightens slightly, protectively, as if he caught the tail-end of that thought. Here it is. The last item on the Impossible list, the one Cayde is even less keen to linger on. Sundance’s death is not an immediate, pressing matter. It’s done; there’s nothing else he can do but withstand it now. Whatever’s up with Razel is an ongoing issue and there’s nothing he wants more than to avoid thinking about it.

He’s unlikely to get any luck with that but a man can hope, yeah?

It takes an eternity to reach their ship, falling forward rather than walking until they’re in reach of a transmat and then wincing his way through the touch of an unfamiliar-familiar Ghost as Cubix transports them to the Queen of Hearts. The impact of his feet on the metal flooring makes a heavy, echoing sound. Razel doesn’t make one at all. He’s like a ghost himself, suddenly, taking twice as much space as usual with none of the flailing that should come with it.

That’s when it catches up to him in earnest — no more of that shell shocked avoidance shit. It must be something in the air, he muses, that settles too heavily on his mind until he buckles under it. Something about the quiet of his own ship, the distant sound of howling and crashing and chaos replaced with the gentle hum of an idle engine; something about the stars blinking cold and distant through the cockpit; something about the persistent rattling in his chest, where the universe twisted itself to fulfill Razel’s desire and still didn’t manage to fix the minutiae of his internal machinery. As if water-cooling is a concept beyond even paracausal miracles.

It’s all, suddenly, too much.

Cayde collapses into the pilot’s seat, clunking and creaking, all the air wheezing out of him like a sorry bagpipe. He feels his entire weight suddenly, every pound of metal and wires, in a way he can’t blame on the difference between the Coast and the artificial gravity aboard the ship. He feels his entire age, each and every single endless year of it, remembered or not. Fuck, but he’s too old for this.

And Razel still won’t stop touching him. Hasn’t ever since— ever since. Even now he has a hand on Cayde’s shoulder, fingertips tucked under the collar of his cloak to lay on the bare metal of his neck underneath.

It’s a comfort. It’s a threat. It makes Cayde’s skin crawl. He wants to jerk away from it. He wants to lean into it. He doesn’t know what he wants, or what he feels beyond confusion, exhaustion, and a bitter kind of relief — the exhausting feeling of having held a snake in your hands and trading the fear of being bitten for the venom.

He’s not used to feeling like that near Razel — one of his closest friends, someone he trusts.

“You okay?”

Stupidly, he expected Razel’s voice to sound different. It’s the same as always: a little higher-pitched than you’d expect, with that slight Awoken flanging to it. At least he’s always pinned the sound of it on Razel being an Awoken and, as such, a little bit weird, as is expected. Now he’s not so sure.

“I’m alive,” Cayde replies grimly. “Sundance is dead and my best friend—” he stumbles there, but what good is a Hunter who balks at a challenge? “Is a wish-granting space dragon in disguise, but I’m alive. Silver lining, right?”

Razel curls into himself, looking small and hurt. It’s hard to see the monster in him just then — even harder than before. He just looks like Razel, and Cayde hates seeing Razel like that — like he just got hit over the head and doesn’t know what to do about it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice winding into a white at the end.

All the fight goes out of Cayde at once. It’s not guilt; not quite. He’s too drained for guilt. But it’s a little bit close to it.

He lifts a hand and lets it fall heavily on Razel’s head, ruffling his hair. “You did what you could, buddy.”

The frown he gets in return is fierce, but no fiercer than seems normal for Razel. He’s quick to anger and even quicker to forget about it, and as dramatic as his moods may be they’re rarely destructive. At least not for the right people. Cabal are all out of luck on that front. Still there’s something in his eyes — a wild, unnatural sharpness to the familiar orange-gold glow that makes a previously unknown animal instinct in Cayde raise its hackles. Whatever happened in the Prison, whatever bolt broke open to release the creature hidden under his features, there’s no locking it back up.

It suits him, though. Perhaps it’s always been there, lurking under the surface, showing glimpses of itself through Razel’s weirdest habits. Perhaps Razel isn’t that different now from a day ago; there’s comfort in that.

After all, he broke open reality to save Cayde. That must mean something, right?

“I didn’t,” Razel says mulishly. “There has to be something more I could have done. I mean—”

He never finishes that sentence. Not that Cayde needs him to. He’s seen what Razel did do. There’s still blood flaking on his fingertips from when he wiped it off Razel’s face; there’s still a dent in his chest where a hit that crumpled his chest like a soda can should have killed him and didn’t. What else might an Ahamkara do if given the chance?

There, he said it. The damning word. It’s not as if there’s a point pussy-footing around it anymore.

“You did what you could,” Cayde repeats, giving Razel another headache-inducing pat from his half-numb arm. “And a damn sight better than what anybody else could have done for me in that situation, lemme tell you. You’re not a miracle worker.”

“Aren’t I?”

“Well— okay, maybe you are. But you’re about as qualified as I am to grant wishes, so no one’s about to blame you for botching it somewhat.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and he catches Razel’s wince in the corner of his eyes, but that goes ignored as another matter occurs to Cayde.

They might not blame Razel for the botched resurrection — knowing what they do of the limit of Ahamkara abilities, and that’s very little, it’s hard to tell whether or not he could have done more. But they will blame him for everything else. Not the near death experience, no. But being an Ahamkara? Hiding it from the City, the Vanguard, even unknowingly? It would be a crime, if any of them had known it was possible enough to make a law punishing it. It will be a crime once they catch wind of it.

And Cayde is thoroughly weirded out by the whole thing, but he’s not about to let his best friend get locked up for having saved his life.

“I have a few questions,” he says, although he’s not sure he truly wants them answered. Unfortunately there won’t be another time for it. “But once we’re home— not a word of it. Capische?”

Razel nods hard enough to dislocate a vertebrae.

Satisfied, Cayde punches in the code for manual piloting and sets the ship on course for the City. They’ve got this.

It occurs to Cayde that they have not got this when Ikora comes knocking at their door two days later at five a.m.

At any other hour it would be nothing out of the usual. He likes to think they’re friends, the two of them, and although it’s usually Vanguard business that brings her to their front step she’s always welcome to drop by unnanounced. He’s been expecting her, anyway.

When Razel and him crawled back to the Tower, dirty and exhausted and shell shocked, she was there to greet them. She was the first one to see Cayde’s sorry state, to ask — in a reassuringly familiar kind but straight to the point manner — what had happened. She’s the one who told him to take a leave, before Zavala even got there to order him the same. It was only a matter of days before she came by to see how he’s doing and kick him out of any self-pitying hole he might have dug for himself in the meantime.

But that’s a visit one makes during the day, or in the evening when she manages to claw back some free time from her mercilessly tight schedule. Nothing good ever comes from a five a.m visit.

Cayde opens the door in his pjs, bare feet against the cold floorboard, to Ikora and a Guardian in full armor he doesn’t recognize. They’re holding a rifle against their chest, in that kind of parade rest that Titans naturally adopt when they’ve been told they won’t have to use it and they don’t entirely believe it.

He fell asleep not two hours ago, but any bleariness remaining from his dramatically shortened night disappears at that sight.

“Mornin’,” he says, hand clenching around the door. He could slam it in their face, but the grim set of Ikora’s mouth tells him they’re far beyond that point. He shouldn’t even have opened it.

Her voice, when she speaks up, is that of the Warlock Vanguard — all business.

“Holliday sent me your records.”

Blinking, Cayde tries to connect that information to the current situation. Holliday, the shipwright. Holliday who’s been working on fixing the Queen of Hearts with a fervor that suggests it’s the only thing she knows how to fix in this damned situation. Holliday—

Who would have had to access the ship’s records to know exactly what to fix. The kind of records that include any and all audio captured aboard in the last few days.

“Fuck,” he says plainly.

She gives him a compassionate look that only makes him feel bad, until it darts up — towards the rest of the apartment — and then he feels worse. The Titan’s grip tightens on their rifle. The faint creaking of their gloves is the only sound for a good long while.

Slowly so as to not startle them into action, Cayde turns his head to look behind his shoulder. Razel has frozen in place next to the couch, holding Admiral in his arms. The cat jumps out of his grasp and pads towards Cayde, rubbing against his legs. Razel just stands there, licking his lips as if wondering if he still has time to bolt back inside their room.

“Is everything okay?” He asks eventually. He looks directly at Ikora when he says it — always does, when he’s not sure what’s going on. She’s his Vanguard; his lighthouse.

“Razel,” she says. It’s not a greeting. It’s the beginning of a longer sentence — of something worse. “You stand accused of treason, perjury, and crimes against the City at large. You will be put into Vanguard custody and judged in a court of law. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court—”

The rest turns into senseless muttering as electrical buzzing overtakes Cayde’s ears — the sound of some Light-forsaken processor going into overdrive in an effort to keep him from hyperventilating. The Titan shoulders their way past him, marches to a still immobile Razel and snaps a set of handcuffs around his wrists. There’s a burst of light as they close; Cubix materializes next to him, the first Cayde has seen of him since they left the Shattered Coast. He’s been keeping his distance to make it easier on him, Cayde thinks dumbly, that small, idiotic kindness the only thing he can focus on at the moment.

Cubix’s voice has gone shrill with worry. “You can’t do this! Ikora—”

She shakes her head, her face set in a stern expression to cover any deeper feeling she may harbor. She’s a professional; Cayde doesn’t have it in himself to admire that, right now. “I’m sorry,” she says. “Cubix, I’ll have to ask you to come with me. Alone.”

Reluctantly, he does, flying up to her. The Titan pulls Razel aside as he floats past, and they put themselves between him and Cayde when they march him past. As if they’re afraid allowing him to touch either of them would make him explode out of his restraints somehow. As it is, he remains meek as anything as he shuffles after them. It’s an incredible sight: Razel with his hair down and messy like a bird’s nest from an uneasy sleep, dressed in nothing more than a shirt — Cayde’s — his underwear — pink — and a single sock — it has a hole at the big toe — being led away in handcuffs by a Titan twice as large as he is who keeps a tight grip on his arm as if he’s liable to eat them.

But he doesn’t, and the door closes on them with a soft click and one last apologetic look from Ikora. Cayde is left behind, in a dark apartment, empty save for himself and the loud meowing of his cat in the kitchen and the gnawing impression that none of this would have happened if he wasn’t such a gigantic idiot.

Somewhere, the sun rises.

He doesn’t see it.

[Read ch. 2 on AO3]

#writing #destiny 2 #cayde-6 #destiny oc #my ocs #razel #bday gift for baronetcoins!!#anyway this is the only part of it that is readable on tumblr #everything else is heavy on the html so. all ao3

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