#Pls tell me someone understands my vision | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months ago

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Hi bubbs, 💖 anon here. I never made a request before, but I'd like to make one now. Can you write a fic in which reader gets injured and Azriel takes care of her and tends to her wounds? Reader has been through a lot in the past so she doesn't know how to react to someone taking care of her. Both of them are also secretly pining for one another. Pls write it if you have the time, no pressure. Much love to you Queen, bye bye💖.

Hey, gorgeous! Enjoy!💕✨

Keep you safe

Azriel hated when Rhys sent you out on missions alone or with anyone who wasn’t him. When it came to you he trusted no one. It was stupid. Over the top stupid but he just couldn’t. Couldn’t make himself settle when he wasn’t the one guarding your back. And then maybe it was the fact that something deep within his chest burnt for you. It was easy with you. From day one you had managed to see right through him. Right through everything he thought he was masking like a true mastermind.

“If you had come to nag me about putting her on a search team with other boys, you don’t have to. By now I know what you will drill me for”, Rhys spoke up before Azriel had a chance to fully enter his study. “I just don’t understand why you do it”, the spymaster slowly closed the door before turning to his brother, “You know how much it unsettles me”. Rhys put down his pen, looking straight up at Azriel, “Man up then and tell her how you feel”, and that was enough to make Azriel's shoulders go stiff. “Stop with that nonsense. Aren’t you tired of trying to play a matchmaker?”, but Azriel’s words only made Rhys smirk. “You can make her yours, admit how you’re feeling, and have an advantage over my decisions. Or you can sulk for the rest of your life because, brother, you’re not getting any younger”, Rhys’s eyes pierced through Azriel. He slowly nodded his head before turning around, “You don’t know shit”, he reached for the door handle once more, “Oh, and if something happens to her because of this choice of yours”, his eyes now much darker, landed on his high lord, “Your pretty face will take a beating. My condolences to Feyre”, and with that, he was gone.

It was an anxious couple of days of sitting around. The reports Azriel had to fill out were adding up but he couldn’t get his mind to settle. And then he heard it. The sea of voices. Among them a voice he would recognize anywhere. Azriel is quick to jump to his feet, rushing down the stairs. And there you stand. Your fighting leather was still on as you gave your last orders to the soldiers that had come with you.

“Y/n”, the shadow singer called out with a tight nod. Your eyes. Tired eyes meet his. A light smile pulls at the corner of your mouth, “Azriel”. The soldiers give clipped nods to both of you before hurrying away. “Didn’t even say goodbye”, Azriel crosses his arms over his chest. “You know i hate goodbyes”, you snicker, turning slightly only to hiss beneath your breath. “Is everything okay?”, the question falls out of his mouth way too quickly but your well-being has been the center of attention ever since you left. “Yeah, perfect. Need to give Rhys a rundown”, and that’s when his eyes notice your clammy-looking skin, the slight tremble.

Azriel reaches out, grabbing your arm, and the dampness of it strikes him. He lets go in a hurry only to be met with a bloody palm. “Yn…”, it’s barely a whisper as his vision zeros onto the crimson staining his skin. “It is nothing”, you brush it off so carelessly that it makes Azriel’s blood boil. “Nothing? You’re bleeding all over the foyer”, he whispers shouts, stepping right in front of you, blocking your way away from him. “I’ll clean it up?”, you try, not too sure as to what would calm this sudden fury burning in him. His wild eyes look you over. And then there is darkness. The coldness of his shadows surrounded everything.

“Sit”, he orders before the mist of his darkness even has a chance to fizzle out. “Azriel you can’t just take me like that”, you hiss out both in pain and frustration. To his apartment outside the city, he had winnowed you. Just like that. Just because. “But it seems like I did”, he sassed over his shoulder before pointing to the sofa, “sit down, woman, before I sit you down”. You gape at him for a moment. Under any other circumstance you would be putting him in his place but now… now you just feel weaker and weaker by the minute.

“You are being childish”, you point out, welcoming the feeling of ease once your body eases against the sofa. “You are being careless”, he throws your own words at him. Ones that you had thrown at him on multiple occasions after his missions. “Shirt off”, Azriel asks, motioning to the material. “Azriel, this is nothing”, you try to reason once again. You don’t want him to see you like this. You can lick your wounds on your own. Have done that your whole life.

“Say that one more time”, it’s a dare you know that. Know him. Just as you know the more you push, the more likely it is that he will be the one doing the undressing. “Fine”, you huff, “I’ll show you so you will get out of my hair”, it’s mean and rude at best, because he had been nothing but nice. You just can’t wrap your head around someone caring. But even you halt at the sight of the angry-looking gash surrounded by bruises. You haven’t looked at it since the attack. You felt it yes. But it didn’t feel that bad. Not to mention the puss slowly forming at the edges. Infected. A chill runs down your back.

“Fuck”, Azriel’s voice fills in the silence. “It wasn’t…”, you start but your voice dies. “Sit, or better lay down”, and there it is, the collected composure, “I’ll fetch clean clothes and Madja’s slaves”, he’s quick to step into his neatly arranged storage room. Searching through the medical supplies. “She’s not in Velaris now but I will make sure she comes here first thing when she returns”, he’s rambling now. Meaning it’s bad. He thinks it’s bad too.

You’re only in your breast wrap when Azriel returns. He would admire you. What man wouldn’t but not now. Not when your chest is coming up and down in broken breathes. Your face looking ashy. “This will hurt. Hold onto my shoulders”, he kneels between your legs, dampening the material. “I’m good”, you say through clenched teeth, letting your head fall over the back of the sofa. Azriel watches you, “I warned you”, he mutters before pressing the cloth to your wound.

Your hands shoot up as quickly as the pain making you cry out. Reaching for the man tending your wounded side. “Breathe through it. Nice and slow”, his lips brush against the side of your head. You didn’t even realize when he had leaned over you. “It hurts”, you cry out, feeling the tears rolling down your cheeks. “Look at me, I’ve got you”, his forehead is pressed to yours. Eyes watching you. He gives you a quick nod and you nod alongside him, “Make it quick”. Another tight nod and the salve-soaked material is once again against your burning flesh.

You cry out, head falling onto Azriel’s shoulder. The agony of it all catches up quickly to you. “Just a bit more”, he pleads, trying to clean away all the crusted-over blood and puss. “You’re doing great. So brave. So strong”, you want to bite back that you’re not a child that needs praise but his words soothe something inside you.

“Lay down, you will feel dizzy”, Azriel reaches out to steady your head back. “Any more not serious cuts on your body?” You lift your arm, one he had grasped. It’s a much shallow wound the bleeding had stopped by now. Yet Azriel tends to it as carefully. You watch him do it. The way he has that almost permanent frown on his face. As if every bruise and cut had personally offered him. “I’ll wrap you up”, he mutters after a while, gathering all the blood-soaked clothes. “I can do it myself, you did enough”, The truth is you don’t want to move. Or more like don’t know if you can. Azriel just looks down at you before sighing, “I understand now why you get pissed when I play big boy around you”, you can’t help but smile a little. Tending to him was always a headache but you always got him to give in. “Got to keep you on your toes now”, you whisper, not trusting your voice.

“Just let me look after you”, he mutters and you take a moment to soak in his worried eyes. “Why?”, deep down you know the answer but there’s an urge now. Urge to hear him say it. “Because…”, Azriel breathes out, stalling, “Because I’ve been worried sick since you left, because this will help my mind settle”. He shakes his head slightly, “Because I care… about you”. You take a shaky breath in, wanting to reach out for him. “Az…”, you mutter. “Don’t say anything now. Heal first and let me help you do so faster”, he cups your face, before going back to fetch the bandages.

#azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel acotar x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction

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licorice-tea · 11 months ago

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Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet) Pt. 2

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: mentions of fights/canon typical violence and weapons, sooo much pining, can be read as a stand alone or as part of the mini series, allies to friends to lovers (soon!?), etc!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: hmmm where do i start? i changed the pov from third to second person, (the first part was third person) the writing style of this is a little different from what i usually do but i still like it so hopefully you do to! pls enjoy and ty for reading <333

edited 1/8/24

Part 1 | Part 3

Law finds y/n leaning on the starboard railing of the Thousand Sunny.

You feel Law’s steps on the wooden planks and look over your shoulder to see him approaching. you swear you can hear your own heartbeat, and only hope that he won’t be able to hear it, too. Your thoughts are interrupted by his presence to your left. Law leans over the railing, mug of coffee in hand. A moment of silence passes while he watches you watch the sea from the corner of his eye.

“Can you even see anything?” he questions, his words coming off much harsher than intended,

A bit caught off guard, you simply respond, “Mhm, everything.” you have good vision, so you’re sort of the natural choice for keeping watch if Zoro doesn’t feel like staying up.

You can feel Law’s gaze on your profile. You can also feel your cheeks heating up, but those two things are completely independent… It doesn’t even matter though, because the darkness of the night should be enough to hide that from him.

“Are you having a good time on board the Thousand Sunny?”

“It’s alright. You guys are really loud.” He says in a near scoff.

“Oh… Sorry about that.” Did you really bother him so much?

Law mentally kicks himself and is quick to wave a hand in front of his face apologetically, “No, I just mean… you’re all very energetic. Not you specifically, either. You’re actually really, uh…”

You wait patiently, now peering up at him through your lashes. He meets your eyes with his own, much more frantic gaze.

“You’re… nice.” He finally averts his eyes with a turn of cheek.

“Oh… thank you.” You smile to yourself. “I think you’re really nice, too.”

Law releases another scoff, though it comes off as more surprised than mean. He struggles with accurately portraying his feelings for you, who remains equally oblivious to his feelings as he does to yours. “You must be thinking of someone else.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m not known for being nice.”

“People must not really know you, then.”

“And you do?”

“Not as much as I’d like to, but well enough.”

“… What?” He finds that you make him feel dumb sometimes, be it through quick rebuttals or patient stares.

“I just mean, we could be friends. But I understand if you don’t-“

“I do.”

“… Ok.” You grin once more.

The pair stare out to sea, and Law takes another sip of his coffee.

“How come I never see you in fights with your crew?”

“I try to stay out of the way. Plus, I don’t really like fighting in the first place- that’s not why I joined my crew. It’s more of a last resort.”

“Interesting.”

“You think so?”

“That you would rather play support than have to get into a fight? Definitely. It’s not very pirate-like.” He nearly sneers- he has certain beliefs on what a pirate should be in order to be of use to their crew.

But, ever the optimist, you simply laugh, “So I’ve been told,” you start. “I guess I’m a little… strict about my morals. Just never really want to hurt someone, you know? Even if it makes people think I’m weak, because I know I’m not.”

“At least you’re self aware.” Law begins, but for some unknown reason feels compelled to continue. To give you some little piece of himself in return for what you’ve told him. However, after he tells you, “I don’t enjoy fighting much either, I just do it to protect my crew.” he feels like he’s talking too much.

You listen intently, “And do you have a family? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He shakes his head no, “Gone.”

You nod solemnly. “Well, I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”

“Have you… lost someone?” Law immediately regrets asking such a personal question.

But, you aren't offended. “No, I’ve been lucky in that way. Though we aren’t really… We don’t… Well, we’re not close.”

“Why’s that?” he mimics your earlier question, which you pick up on and smirk at.

So you sigh; “I guess the whole running-away-with-a-pirate crew thing kind of soiled their opinion of me.”

Your eyes meet again after your confession, and after a moment of silence, you both break out in laughter. Except, Law’s is more of just the shake of his shoulders, while you actually laugh.

“It’s not funny-” Law says through broken exhales.

“No, it’s really not!” you shake your head, still caught in a fit of giggles.

Eventually you both still yourselves, and Law concentrates on his half empty mug while you look up at the stars above head. Then you look at him from the corner of their eye, just for a split second, but find his eyes are already trained on you. So you offer a smile, like always, and go back to star gazing. Another moment passes, and your enjoyment of conversation gets the best of you.

“What’s it like living in a submarine?” Law raises a brow and gives a sidelong glance at your question. “Don’t you miss land and the sky when you’re down there?”

“Yeah. I miss land sometimes, I guess.”

You explore the answer to your question further by standing up on the ledge before you, and leaning over the railing to look down into the waves being split by the Thousand Sunny. It’s not a particularly dangerous stunt at all- there’s the floor, a 3 inch raised ledge, and the railing on top of it. When you stand on it, your height is barely altered; that’s how non perilous what you are doing is, for context. You simply want to lean over to see the waves.

But Law’s hand shoots out to grasp your shoulder, acting as a tether. You look at him with a concerned expression, which turns into a smirk. You could stay up there, maybe even turn and lift yourself slightly to sit on the railing itself, but you decide to come back down to the floor on your heels instead of giving the surgeon something else to stress over. Law then pulls his hand back rigidly and scratches the back of his neck with near painful awkwardness due to his sudden display of concern for your safety.

“I don’t think I could trip all the way over the railing unless I tried.” You tease.

“No, I- I know.” he coughs. Did he really just stutter?

“See? You are nice. You care.” you punctuate your statement with a smirk and the side to side tilt of their head. An occasional habit that, if someone were around you often enough to witness, they would know signified a feeling of triumph.

Law is at a loss for words at the moment, thoughts clouded by the growing warmth in his chest that seems to fluctuate up and down his neck and face, but never disappears completely when he’s around you.

“Sure.” he takes to mumbling again.

“You know, I really like having you here with us.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I love the other Straw Hats of course, but… I don’t know, you’re different.”

“You’re different from my crew, too.”

“Oh yeah? In a good way, I hope.”

Law shrugs, “Yeah.” He pauses, then mutters something under his breath. “In a good way.”

You’d blurt out your feelings here and now, if it were anyone else. But this is Law, and you kind of like him a lot, so you want to do things right. Besides, that would probably only scare him away- he seems like the kind of man who carefully works his way up to a relationship. With a friendly smile, you accept his statement. Because now that you know he considers you a friend at the very least, and more than likely shares your affections… you’re in no rush.

The night goes by quickly in his company, and soon enough you spot the golden rays of the sun peaking over the horizon.

“We should do this again sometime,” you tell him as the sun starts to climb higher into the sky (quicker than you’d like), “I had fun talking to you.”

Law nods, “Just let me know when you’re keeping watch,” he waves over his shoulder as he walks away, “I’ll be there.”

And when he makes it back to the privacy of his room, Law replays the night in his head. Over and over and over again, until he comes to a not-so-shocking conclusion. “Shit:”

“I’m falling for y/n.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #fanfic #one piece #x reader #law x reader #law fluff #law x you #trafalgar law #law x y/n #pining #late night conversations #straw hat reader #straw hat pirates #fluff #one piece x y/n

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heliads · 1 year ago

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Hey! I love your writing sm

could you pls do an f1 soulmate au with charles x carlos?

maybe whatever a person writes on themselves shows up on their soulmate so they write each other cute 'good luck' notes or jokes before races and maybe they realize they're soulmates when one of them gets a podium and the other person sees their drawings :)

i understand that you wanted this to be cute. however have you considered that they could be insane instead. have you considered that there could be mind games, bestie. think about the mental warfare (i am)

masterlist

Carlos Sainz believes that his secrets come out the fastest when he’s drinking. Doesn’t even have to be alcohol, his favorite ruiner of silence– he’s let out contract details and personal opinions just as freely with isotonic water after a race as with a shot someone hands him two hours into a post-race celebration. It’s easy to let your guard down when you think you’re with a friend, when the stakes don’t seem high, when he knows better but doesn’t want to admit it.

That’s why he feels a rippling wave of panic when he sees Charles walking across the Ferrari hospitality, two cups of coffee in his hands. Charles sits down at an empty table for two, places one cup in front of himself and one at the empty chair, and looks pointedly at Carlos. Carlos thinks to himself, this can’t be good, and mentally reminds himself to book an appointment with PR sooner rather than later.

He takes the seat. Some things, you can’t fight. Charles still smiles anyway, pleased, and says, “I got you coffee.”

Carlos had noticed this, surprisingly. It was difficult to ignore. “You’re being nice,” he remarks, blowing into the hole on the lid to cool down the liquid inside.

“I am nice,” Charles protests. His accent comes out more when he’s unhappy, it makes the syllables bunch up together like pleats of fabric.

Carlos arches a brow, and takes a sip of his coffee instead of answering. Scuderia Ferrari loves to claim that they adore the art of coffee just as much as their mother country, but every time Carlos gets coffee from hospitality it’s either flavorless or burnt, depending on who serves it. Charles’ attempt isn’t terrible, but he doubts Charles did anything more to prepare it than just put in an order. It’s a nice gesture, though. Just like Charles said.

When he looks up and the steam properly clears from his vision, Charles is still pouting at him. Carlos shakes his head, smiling to himself. He makes it so easy sometimes, to mess with his head. It’s kind of fun. Poker, but with a far prettier deck of cards.

“Alright, fine,” he relents, grinning so Charles knows he’s in on the joke, “I’m just teasing. No need to get mad, cabrón.”

“I’m not mad,” Charles says, a hint of a smile on his face although he stubbornly tries to shake it, “just interested in defending my honor.”

“Your honor?” Carlos asks, laughing in earnest. “So lord-esque, that is what I have been telling you. Of course Lord Perceval would defend his honor.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “You can deal with my honor, mate. I got you coffee.”

“And I am grateful for it every time you bring it up,” Carlos says, and takes a sip to prove it.

Charles does the same, but his eyes remain on Carlos the whole time. “So? Is it true what they’re saying?”

Carlos wants more than coffee for a conversation that starts out like this. “Who’s saying what?”

Charles gestures vaguely towards his phone. “Everybody. They say you’re going to leave Ferrari when your contract expires.”

Ah. That. “People love rumors,” he says absentmindedly, “I never thought you’d pay attention to them.”

“I don’t usually, but I was interested in this one,” Charles admits. “You’d tell me if you were leaving, right?”

“I’m not leaving,” Carlos says.

Charles sets down his cup. “But you’d tell me, right?”

“I would,” Carlos says. Pauses. Starts again. “What’s gotten into you, man? I never took you for someone to fall for theories like this.”

Charles shakes his head a little too quickly. “I’m not. They just seemed to believe it.”

Carlos shrugs. “They believe a lot. My contract doesn’t expire until next year. They won’t worry about me for a while.”

“Should I?” Charles asks. “Worry about you, I mean.”

Carlos looks at him, really looks at him. The tense grip of his teammate’s hands around his coffee, even despite the heat still emanating through the cup. The furtive glances he keeps sneaking towards Carlos, then abruptly looking at the cup again when he gets caught.

“I’m not going,” Carlos says gently. More gently than he’d answer any interviewer, anyway.

Charles nods quickly, his head bobbing like a doll on a string. “Of course. Besides, I have too much interest for you to leave yet. Not until we figure out your, ah–” A pause. Delicate, but not at all from a polite inclination, no matter how it might seem to any outsider.

Carlos groans, exasperated. “My soulmate? My God, Charles, you have to give this up at some point.”

If it were not enough to have an overly inquisitive teammate, one that’s rather good at using his eyes and smile to get what he wanted, Carlos has been cursed with a racing partner that’s unnaturally interested in his missing other half. Carlos himself wants to figure out who his soulmate is, obviously, but at this point he thinks Charles is even more invested.

They all have soulmates. Supposedly. There’s probably at least a couple people out there who skipped that universal drawing of lots, but Carlos knows for certain that he is not one of them because his soulmate contacts him almost every day. Some people go weeks or even months without finding so much as a scribble appearing out of thin air on their skin, but Carlos blinks and there’s a new sentence on his forearm, bruising his knuckles, curling around his ankle. Whoever his soulmate is, they don’t care much for being ignored.

Neither does his teammate. Charles huffs out an exasperated breath. “If you will not be curious, I will be curious for you. You’re always so cagey about it, anyway. I know they write to you. Don’t you want to know?”

“Of course I want to know who they are,” Carlos scoffs. “What I don’t get is why you want to know. Why don’t you focus on your own other half for a change?”

Charles just leans back in his chair, grinning coolly. Ah, yes. Carlos has suspected for some time that Charles already has an idea as to who his soulmate is, but for some reason Carlos has never seen her around the paddock. It could be that Charles is just keeping their relationship private, but he doubts it. Charles likes his trophies visible and his games extensive. More likely than not, Charles has his soulmate engaged in some kind of cat-and-mouse game so they figure it out without too much help on his end. It’s hellishly manipulative, but he’s charming enough that they all let it slide.

Even Carlos, although he at least tries to put up a fight. Sometimes, he thinks Charles is amusingly aware of that, and doubles down on his efforts to get Carlos to cave until both of them are locked in some sort of affectionate stalemate.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” Charles hums, pleased that he’s got the other hand. “I mean,” he says, leaning forward abruptly to seize Carlos’ hand in his own, “Don’t you want to know about yours? Aren’t you curious?”

Whoever sat at their table before them left a Sharpie behind by accident; Charles picks it up now, uncapping it with the same hand without letting go of Carlos. “You could just ask them right now, who they are,” Charles muses. The tip of the Sharpie hovers millimeters above the curve of Carlos’ palm, waiting.

Carlos stares at the black ink. It’s easier to focus on the skin when he mumbles, “They wouldn’t answer.”

You’re not supposed to. Unspoken rules. He’s never liked that sort of thing, and neither has Charles, who knows this and smiles unkindly anyway. “You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” Carlos asks, mostly to himself. Charles doesn’t appear to hear him. The Sharpie dips lower until it touches Carlos’ skin. Immediately, the black ink flowers into his palm. Carlos waits for Charles to keep writing, to scrawl a question like who are you or can I fly you to a Grand Prix paddock, asap but instead Charles flinches, slams the palm of his own hand down towards the table, and covers up the pen again.

“Maybe you should do it yourself,” Charles mutters by way of explanation.

“Maybe,” Carlos says. He’s not sure if he’s agreeing or not. It would be easier, he thinks, to have Charles take the wheel again. It would also hurt more. Carlos caps the pen when it becomes obvious that Charles will not. “Drink your coffee,” he says. “It’ll get cold.”

Charles does as told, which is sort of surprising. Usually, he likes pushing the envelope until someone tells him to quit it. It appears to Carlos, though, that they have reached an unspoken limit, a line drawn out in black Sharpie on tanned skin that will not be crossed again.

A few minutes pass. They’re both quiet. Charles whispers into the condensation of his cup, “You’re not leaving, though, right?”

Carlos smiles. “I’m not.” Contracts change, obviously, but he’ll try to fight it. They all try.

They leave not long afterwards, race week means that they don’t have a lot of time to sit around. There’s always something to be filmed for media duties, an interview to conduct, checks to run through with engineers. Still, Carlos is somehow calmer than he was before, even despite the additional caffeine.

Charles, by contrast, seems jumpier than usual as they head towards the exit.

“Did you enjoy your coffee?” Carlos asks pointedly.

Charles glances quickly over both shoulders, then groans when he’s sure that no one can overhear him. “No, God. It’s terrible.”

Carlos chuckles. “But you went to so much trouble to get it. Surely you can pretend it’s more than just terrible. You drank, like, all of it.”

Charles gives him an appraising look. “It’s better with someone else.”

It occurs to Carlos, as he walks back to his driver’s room, that they may not just have been talking about coffee after all. He’s stopped by one of his PR advisors on the way back– apparently there’s a new TikTok trend that would be just great for him to do– and although he doesn’t feel that shaken, he must look it, because they only get halfway through a discussion of trending sounds before the agent asks if everything is alright.

Carlos scoffs. “Of course I’m alright.”

The agent arches a brow. “Are you sure? You look a little unsettled. Don’t tell me you were talking to George about track times again, he has that effect on everyone before qualis.”

Carlos shakes his head. “No, I didn’t see him. I was speaking with Charles, though, about nothing in particular. Just coffee and soulmates and stuff.” Unable to stop himself, he leans a little closer, drops his voice until it’s more of a whisper. “He’s found his soulmate, hasn’t he? She’s got to be around here somewhere.”

His PR agent, surprisingly, shakes their head. “No, he’s said nothing about it to us, and we’ve asked loads of times. Are you certain that they’re a she, though? That wasn’t the impression I got.”

Carlos stands utterly still. He thinks his blood may have cooled in his veins, congealing into a solid. He is not sure he could move if he tried. “Charles told you that?”

“Once,” the agent says offhandedly. “He got sick of us asking about his mystery woman. I don’t think he meant to let it slip, but you know how he is with secrets.”

They’re laughing at that. Carlos tries to chuckle along with him, but he can’t really do more than nod, because now he’s thinking about Charles’ soulmate being a man. It’s the driver in him, he supposes, the dreamer, that if he can imagine any scenario he would also imagine himself in it, and so it follows that now Carlos cannot stop thinking about the man on the other side of Charles’ heart being him, being Carlos. The picture fits a little too well.

Carlos had never pictured his soulmate and thought of a man, but sometimes he’ll be up on the podium with Charles, champagne high and bright in the air, and he thinks maybe– maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing, not having a girl like that. He already knows what it’s like, anyway, to be at the top of the world and have another man standing there with him. If God did not intend for us to be with someone of the same sex, then why would He make it feel so natural?

Carlos somehow manages to end the conversation, to slip back into the relative safety of his driver’s room and lean his entire body weight against the door. He stares up at the ceiling, hands fisting the red fabric of his Ferrari jacket at his sides, and he lets himself, for the first time, wonder if his soulmate might not be a man as well. Anything Charles can do, Carlos can too, or so the commentators have started to say. Anyone Charles could love, Carlos could too. Anything his would be theirs.

It is a risky thought. Pessimists will tell you that soulmates are good for nothing but getting your hopes up. Carlos does not know who his soulmate is nor, odds are, will he ever. It does no good to think about what he wants until he already has it.

Later that day, Carlos tells his soulmate in non-descript block letters, All things must end. He caps the pen and covers his hand for the rest of the day. He sees Charles some hours later, looking pale and frightened. Carlos cannot, will not, imagine why.

He tries to push it from his mind. They are not hiding in Ferrari hospitality for the thrill of it, after all, but to prepare for the race ahead. Qualifying comes and goes, nothing to write home about but at least they should be decently in the points. One of them might be able to make it to a podium if they can give Lando Norris the slip. The best case scenario is that Checo will bin it so they could get a 1-2, but who knows if they’ll have any semblance of luck today.

Carlos qualified one position ahead of Charles. Fred Vasseur is already starting to eye him like a lamb to the slaughter, and Carlos makes a mental reminder to continually ask his engineer for Charles’ times during the race. He has a feeling that team orders might be given.

Strangely enough, it doesn’t make Carlos angry towards Charles as much as he thinks it should. He is irritated by Ferrari, of course, for picking one driver over another, but that’s expected in any given scenario in which the cars are swapped. Usually, though, that sort of thing happens enough times that you start directing your ire towards the other driver, but Carlos cannot manage that. In fact, he never has. Hating Charles is unthinkable. It would be easier to hate himself. Right?

Getting ready in his driver’s room before the race that Sunday, Carlos is struck by a sudden, unthinkable idea. He rummages around in his belongings for a while before coming up with a pen. Dark, thick, the kind you use for autographs when the hapless fan forgets to bring a writing implement of their own. Carlos uncaps it, stares at his skin, then starts to scribble. Words, underlined, circled. Do well. Good luck. Please.

He doesn’t know if– but he could, maybe, if he saw. Carlos loses himself in a frenzy, then snaps out of it just as quickly when his palms get covered in writing. The sound of footsteps outside his door makes him flinch, and he tugs on his gloves as fast as he can, smearing the ink even more than before. It doesn’t matter. Odds are nothing will come of this anyway.

The race goes as expected. Checo does not crash, much to the chagrin of all other teams, and Carlos gets stuck behind him long enough that they start talking about switching him with Charles, which happens around lap forty. When the checkered flag waves, Charles is third, Carlos fourth. He parks quickly and hurries over to the front. By the time he gets there, Charles has already withdrawn inside the cooldown room but Carlos can shoulder in with the other Ferrari crew and shout and slap each other on the back and that’s good, too, it really is.

He will tell himself that it is. Carlos, by now, has gone to a lot of teams and learned about a lot of strategy choices. He knows how to convince himself that something is fine, that the decisions of the team are ones he agrees with. He can idle with the crew and stare up at the podium with a fixed smile on his face, because Carlos is a Good Teammate and Good Teammates show up for each other. They accept team orders when they come their way. They do not stand in the shade of someone else’s idol and think, this isn’t fair.

Of course it isn’t fair, it’s motorsport. Charles is the one they love the most, even when he’s erratic and crashes every other race. Charles is the pretty boy, the golden one, Il Predestinato. Carlos is merely his father’ son.

Charles, who figured out the whole game of soulmates months before. He guessed, at least. Told that to Carlos one night, grinning, drunk, spiraling after another lost podium. Charles had waited with wide eyes and a frozen smile as if waiting for Carlos to put something together, but the other shoe never dropped and eventually the moment ended, both of them pulled apart by other friends, downing other drinks, pretending they never existed.

Carlos thinks of it now. He watches Charles emerge from the shadows of the space behind the podium to stand in the blinding sunlight, waving down at all of them. One of the mechanics is elbowing him in the side, speaking in that low voice they all get when they do the boy’s club talk, you know, someone’s soulmate likes him well enough, obviously, and Carlos has no idea what he’s talking about until he looks up and sees. Sees Charles, his palms dark with ink. From up here, it’s too small to see what is written. The Catholic boy in him thinks stigmata which is wrong, obviously, because there is no great divine mystery here, not when Carlos knows what happened.

Not when Carlos was the one to write all of it earlier that day. He’d almost forgotten during the course of the race, but it all comes flooding back now. That’s his ink on Charles’ hands, and that means– That means Charles is his soulmate. Always has been. Always will be.

Carlos stares up at him. Charles looks down, and although he’s been grinning with victory this whole time, the smile that slides onto his face upon seeing his teammate is different than before, it’s knowing. Charles knows that Carlos has figured it out at last. He’s been waiting for him to do it all this time.

It’s almost obscene, how close Charles must have come to telling him about a thousand times. Who would risk it like that? No one. Charles would. Carlos pictures him with the Sharpie earlier that week, black tip poised above his skin. How he’d caught himself before giving himself up. Perfect timing, a driver’s reflexes. Like managing to right yourself right before sending your car into the wall. Or, better, like doing it anyway. Like accelerating before you go. Like leaving your hands on the wheel so your wrists can break, too, not just your heart.

Yes, Charles would. Charles Leclerc would. Charles, so impatient for his first championship that he’d give up his current chance by overshooting every corner, by doing too much until he ends up in the wall time and time again. This is the man who would expose his soulmate like a throat to a knife, and Carlos has known this about him for years.

The Ferrari section of the paddock is insane after getting a podium, so no one notices when Carlos fights his way through the crowds to let himself into Charles’ driver’s room. It’s empty when he arrives, Charles must have many more people to get through, so he paces relentlessly back and forth until Charles shows up.

Charles bursts through the door, still talking to someone down the hall. His exuberance crashes to a halt the second he sees Carlos waiting, and he hurriedly tells whoever is there not to wait up. Charles carefully closes the door behind him, locks it too, and then it’s just the two of them and this great and all encompassing secret for company.

Charles swallows. “You know.”

Of course he does. Friends show up at each other’s driver’s rooms all the time, but this isn’t just on the order of congratulations for a good race result. They would not be hovering on the edge of this great precipice if it was just that.

“You knew earlier,” Carlos challenges.

Charles ducks his head in a nod. “I did.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Carlos asks.

Charles’ gaze is shifty, it flicks from ceiling to floor to walls, anywhere but Carlos himself. Charles has always been a daredevil for the risks, but he’s never had the stomach for what becomes of them. The consequences are always a thousand times worse than the actions.

“I didn’t think you would want it. Want me,” he corrects, almost whispering.

This is so absurd that Carlos almost wants to laugh. Almost, because the look on Charles’ face is so pitiful that he can’t even smile. “Why wouldn’t I?” Carlos asks.

Charles blinks in surprise. “Because you were never even that interested in finding out who your soulmate was, mate. Always said it would just be some girl you didn’t know. I didn’t want to see your face when you realized you didn’t even get some girl but me.”

“I didn’t want to look too much into my soulmate because I was afraid it wouldn’t be you,” Carlos says in a rush, and as he admits it he knows it’s true.

How could it be anything but that? Carlos could have picked any team, but he went here. A hardheaded (formerly red) bull chasing not just the scarlet flag but the matador himself. Charles, all along.

Charles’ eyes are wide, lashes darker even than the ink still staining his palms. “So you’re not mad, then?” He asks cautiously.

“Not mad and not leaving,” Carlos reiterates.

A ghost of a smile flickers over Charles’ lips. “You cannot blame me for wanting to be sure, I didn’t want you to go until I managed to tell you.”

“You certainly took your time about it,” Carlos comments.

Charles rolls his eyes. “Just because we are racers does not mean we have to do everything fast, Carlos. Be patient.”

Carlos arches a brow. “You are telling me that?”

Charles has the grace to look at least a little ashamed. “Yes. Well. I can be patient now.”

Of course he can. They both can. Most people spend their entire lives searching for the answer to a question that is no longer a mystery to either of them. Time is all they have, time and sweet-sticky champagne and the sensation of being at the top of the world. Nothing will change them. Everything will. For once, though, the change does not scare him. It’s not bad, all of the time.

Sometimes, it brings him Charles. Sometimes, it brings him this. No, not bad in the slightest.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

also: @quill-of-a-sparrow

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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tr4gictea · 2 years ago

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OMG HIIII

its so hard finding writers that do xchild!reader or teen!reader

.·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

Can i request a sagau where the creator is a teenager?

How do you think the difference genshin characters would treatg them ?

Love yaaaa!

❥Masterlist

Summary: You land in Teyvat after trying to play your favorite game. After trying to keep your age a secret the dendritic archon somit he’s on you.

Tags: Mostly fluff, teen!reader, platonic

A/n: Thank you for the suggestion 0rah-s! :D This is kinda short but there will most likely be a part 2. There are definitely spelling mistakes in here, please let me know how i can improve pls. Love u all <3

Part 2

After a long day of school, (y/n) relaxed in their chair and powered up their PC to play their favorite game: Genshin Impact. But as they clicked on the icon of the cute mascot the icon’s color inverted. You only brushed off the glitch as a weird bug. When the window popped up it looked different then usual with the sky behind the floating pillars a scarlet red.

“Wtf… is my game glitching?” (y/n) thought to themself as they tried click the x in the corner of their window to close the screen. Key word ‘tried’. The window refused to close while the game started to build the door into teyvat. (Y/n) watched the screen as a blinding white light surrounded their vision until there was nothing.

………..

When you landed in Teyvat you none questioned you appearing as a teenager because it’s quite rude to ask someone their age. They will treat you as if you are an adult. But the truth will eventually come out but it wasn’t how you expected.

“Your grace, are you sure you can sign contracts?” Nahida asked as you while you were meeting with the Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham and the Dendro Archon, Lesser lord Kussinal.

Shit. Nahida knew that you were 14. She looked in Irmensal the moment you arrived. “Yes I should be.” You said looking at her with eyes that said PLEASE DON’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY AGE PLEASE PLEASE.

But apparently she didn’t get the message “Well I only ask this because of your age.”

Alhaithem’s eyes shifted towards you and raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind me asking your Grace but how old are you exatctly?”

“...”

“No comment.”

“There Grace is 14!”

“Nahida!”

Alhaitham stair went blank and was most likely was forming a million questions in his head when he asked “Who else knows?”

“Just Nahida and now you too.” You gestured to the small archon than Alhaithem.

“Hm, I will inform the other leaders of this and Lesser Lord Kussinal will you please inform the other Archons of this matter.”

“Wait- What?!”

……………..

Day passed and you left Sumeru to visit people in Monstat. You were greeted with a parade of people waving and throwing gifts at you. After a little while the crowd dispersed and you saw a familiar green bard sitting on a statue of Barbatos.

“Ah! Your Grace!” Venti said as he got up from his spot sitting on the statue’s hands. He used his anemo abilities to float himself without hurting himself. “Or should I say my young Grace?” He said smirking

“What?”

“I take that back, it sounded cooler in my head.” Venti said as he slung his arm over your shoulder as you chuckled. “But, back on topic! YOUR 14?” Shouting the least part a little too loud catching the attention of a few bystanders.

“VENTI SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You whisper yelled at him as he chuckled. “And yes I am 14.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” the bard asked with sincerity in his tone.

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be a little awkward and I didn’t know what would be the right time to do so.”

“Understandable, we all thought you were older than at least 30 from the way you act, but what about your family?”

“What do you mean? They’re probably back at my home living their life.”

“Not on your planet but here on teyvat, from what I can tell you have no single person to have as a parental fig-” You shove a hand in Venti’s face before he finish, knowing what he was going to say.

“No, absolutely not, I don’t need a ‘parental figure’ in my life telling me what to do.” You said putting air quotes up for parental figure. “And like you said I act older than I am.”

“That doesn't mean your still not a kid.”

“Doesn’t matter, point is that I don't need someone looking after me.”

……………..

Once (Y/n)’s finished their business in Mondstat she left for Liyue since the Lanturen Rite festival was about to take place. Little did they know that they would be met with the Liyue Qucixe.

Ganyu, Keqing, and Nigguang were standing right on the entrance of the harbor, when you came into view Ganyu was the first to run toward you. She grabbed your cheeks in her hands with a worried expression on her face.

“YOUR GRACE YOU’RE 14?!” She said slightly shaking you “WITH THE AMOUNT OF WORK YOU’VE BEEN DOING IT ISN’T GOOD FOR A CHILD!”

“Ganyu calm down, and let them go.”The bold voice of Ningguan said from behind Ganyu. She then turned to face you “Your Grace, it’s lovely to see you again.” She said with a smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again too.”

“If you would like to come with me I have reserved a spot at the Liuli Pavillion if you would like to join me for lunch.”

“Of Course, I would love to join you.”

Time skip d:

After a bit of talking and eating Ningguan cleared her throat and asked if she could have a serious talk with you about something.

“I have a feeling this is about my age.” You said while cleaning sauce off your mouth with a napkin.

“Yes your Grace,” Ningguan said “I’m afraid that’s the problem.

Part 2?

#Genshin Sagau #Genshin x teen reader #Genshin impact x reader #Genshin #genshin #Sagau #sagau headcanons #platonic genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader

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xxfrankiesteinksxx · 8 months ago

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small details in the dnpc video no one is mentioning

okay, look, i'm gonna admit it, i'm a game/film theory girly and a whore for lore, so i pick at details i shouldn't be picking at, so here's some things i see in the video that i don't see being mentioned in theories/analyses. also keep in mind my brain consists of a single cell encapsulated in aspic (i know what the actual deeper meaning is this is just a bit of fun for me)

the thing underneath the piano - the camera falls off the piano in one scene and something (i still cant figure out what exactly it might be) is visible, oddly clear-looking for something underneath a broken piano in shoddy lighting (actually looking at it again it might be a corpse, is it possibly phil's old body?)

dan telling phil not to film him drawing the sigils but phil still filming - you might be able to also throw in the part where phil screams "NO" when the camera's on him sitting in the corner; they don't seem to want things to be filmed but it feels like they're obligated to record everything to some extent

phil's very explicit control over dan - this is to the point where he even has to tell dan what and what isn't food, and takes away water privileges for some reason (btw this is your reminder to drink some water) and overall very demanding tone when instructing him

SOFT AND NEAT - there's a lot of reinforcement of this, its clearly a joke but i'm overanalytical and will blatantly ignore this. there's heavy hesitation with any sharp object around them (when dan has to cut his hand, kill phil, take out phil's heart, mentioning razor blades when using the shaving foam)

dan still primarily uses his left hand - people have mentioned how he's been "fixed" but him using his right hand seems to be performative since he pours most things, mixes with his left hand, and even primarily uses his left hand to spread the blood (plus he never sacrificed himself unlike phil who seems to have died in potato stamps and been resurrected with perfect vision) there's also old superstitions that being left-handed means you're somehow cursed by/connected to satan, speaking of which...

dan has a much better connection and the ability to communicate directly with Him - he seems to be a conduit, possibly being used by phil to properly perform anything (which also probably helped with his resurrection and eyesight improvement), he has uncontrollable actions from time to time

the sigils themselves - what do they all mean? what could they mean in a bigger, symbolic context? anyone that understands them pls explain to my aspic brain

the entire place fucking burns down after the ritual is complete and they're embraced by Him - it's clear at least to me that the shed is set on fire at the end of the video, cutting off further possible footage

dan doesn't put blood on phil's forehead during the ritual - might've just been a slipup during filming but we also dont see the blood dan put on his own forehead once he arrives and theyre all standing up in the pentagram

also just a couple fun facts:

the number on the case file when converted to corresponding letters of the alphabet spell out "satan"

what dan says in his reversed clip is just "thanks!", nothing is really said in the reversed clip of phil opening the shed door its juts kinda a random noise someone made

Aaaaand some misc nonsense crackpot theories/ideas/thoughts/brain vomit that my brain keeps me awake at night with (optional reading):

if the demon taking them at the end is actually baphomet and not just some generalized idea of satan, then "mother" could be another way to refer to "him" since baphomet is portrayed as having both female and male characteristics (bobs n pennies)

personally this is scarier/more unnerving than the actual blair witch project for some reason

my bathroom sink is the one sink you cant ship

i want a dapc for those dolls they hung everywhere

is cataloguing all of the ritual setup part of the craft channel's purpose?

what was the reason for summoning him? did they bring him to our plane of existence to just let him absorb these two brink-of-twinks and then use their gay power to torment the straights?

oh that rope is just his belt thing not rope tying dip and pip together

i think this is a good wrap-up idk what they could do in a part 5 to conclude things better

#this is what keeps me up at night #that and the 4 hour long naps i take at 5pm every day #now i wanna start a collector doll brand called brink-of-twink #featuring fun accessories like texts to his sugar daddy and mortgage paperwork #theres more but this is rly fkn long lol #dan and phil #dan and phil crafts #danandphil #daniel howell #dan howell #phil lester #amazingphil #phandom #dnp crafts #dnp

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mud-o · 1 year ago

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[ Detailed Thread ] I've seen lots of debate but here's lists of reasons why I personally think Wriothesley is visually impaired/blind to a certain degree and hope that he is :)

This is listed down based on my understanding/research so if there's anything wrong pls do correct me

Firstly we need to know the term 'Blindness', i know you may be wondering like , uh what? But a lot of people are quite misinformed of what being 'blind' is. Blindness is the inability to see or a lack of vision. Meaning that Blindness is a SPECTRUM. Each person's experience of blindness is unique. 93% of blind and vision-impaired people can see something. It is very rare for someone who is blind that cannot perceive anything at all. Some people may be blind in their peripherals - some in the center, some can see colours and blurs while others can perceive light and shadows better. It varies. A LOT. Quote from an article on Blindness and its spectrum. "These visual impairments don’t all work the same. Macular degeneration, erode the central vision without affecting peripheral vision. Narrowed field of vision- central vision is fine but the peripheral vision is limited. Others include photophobia (inability to tolerate light), diplopia (double vision), visual distortion, and difficulty with visual perception."

Ok so now we've made that clear- here's why Wriothesley being blind isnt as farfetched as you may think , with the way he is acting in the Fontaine trailer. 1) So i've heard everyone say that he is teasing Sigwienne, but let's just go back, why does Sigwienne - put the cute beverage in front of wrio in that manner? Why is she putting the taller cup in front of him where it's simply closer for him to reach for in the first place? You can argue that she did that so wriothesley takes it, but why not just hand it to him then? If you observe the scene - the tea was already there beforehand, which means wrio has either prepared it himself or has even already drunk from it and placed it there. He knows there is a 'cup' on the table. It could be very much logical to assume Sigwienne wanted wriothesley to mistakenly reach for the taller cup she placed there. There would be no point in deliberately placing the cup as if with the intention to 'trick' him into taking it if he could very well see her place it there.

2) The visible jolt of his hands when he hovers over the tall drink that sigwenne places there. And the CLOSING of his eyes, as if to concentrate. On what? Here we can tell the drink clearly looks like a cold beverage, so when his hands hover on top of the cup , it'll make sense to have a reaction based on the wrong temperature registered to his hands - as tea is hot. He glances to sigwenne after , as if amused, only to look back to rotate the smaller cup of his tea. And even when 'rotating' , his actions seem purposeful - carefully interacting w the cup with his hands draping around the handle before holding onto it. As if again, he's mostly feeling around it. If he were to see perfectly well, why would he close his eyes - hover around the tall drink, and seem to jolt by reaction of registering what the object is? His eyebrow even raises up. It makes less sense as - if he were intending to tease her, he'd simply hover alternatively between the two without interacting w them purposefully but instead focus more on the reaction of Sigwenne from the start - and not After he seemingly 'felt' what the glass he is reaching for firstly is not his own cup of tea, but the beverage Sigwienne wanted him to take. Also added point, if you really take notice, while touching and rotating the tea for its handle, his eyes are set straight, not towards the cup.

3) paper argument - again brings back to my point about blindness being a spectrum. Some blind people can read if they really focus and if the object was near enough, and even more that they just show him holding the paper, his eyes were never shown 'scanning' it. And furthermore, we are not SHOWN the paper, it could be braille for all we know. 4) but he looks at sigwienne first before she places the cup - again , blindness is a spectrum. Many blind people can register vague figures of people based on combinations of colour, light, and shadows or other ways depending on the individual. 5) Lyney's dialouge - as we know, genshin loves littering clues and symbolisms around in the trailers. Here's the quote we got while transitioning to Wrio's cutscene. "But what you see, is not real. It's all a show. And every part of the show is carefully controlled" Here we've already got a literal connotation for 'sight' from "what you see" , and connotations of 'acting' what if he was just acting out that he is not 'blind' to the outsider's point of view, so it is shown that he has less of a 'weakness' to others? Covering his disability under a guise so no one knows how to use it against him? It may be a reach - but it is an interesting idea to think about. Esp with the entire theatre play theme surrounding Fontaine and us/people being the audience of the big show.

6) wolf motifs and inspiration - It is quite easy to see Wriothesley is very heavily wolf motifed. Wolves are known for their sharp senses and acute hearing. They rely much more heavily on scent and hearing compared to their sight. Sounds familiar? It would be very neat if wriothesley has heightened senses as he can't rely on his eyesight as much, thus being easily able to tell when Sigwienne moves around and puts the cup in front of him. 7) gameplay - having a disabled character can make interesting and unique ideas on their kit and mechanic. I'll leave most of it for imagination, but something such as a passive that could auto-link enemies aggro-ed for aoe skills? Many many more possibilities. 8) It will simply be good disability representation in media , we've already had collei with the chronic illness of Eleazar, Xiao with chronic pain from karmic debt, Yoimiya's father short of hearing due to working with fireworks etc. It'll be an amazing addition for irl people with disabilities to feel more seen. 9) there's literally a scar under one of his eyes what more can i say if not it being more of a hint. His beta concept designs even had a scar on his eyebrow along with heterochromia? Which can also be seen as being blind in one eye with the 'white' colouring. Also the eyepatch beta design? Yeah.

Also this slipped my mind, but do also note Braille was originated and introduced in france - invented by Louis Braille in 1824. And well, what do we know of where Fontaine is based of? wink wonks

My conclusion, live laugh love hc wriothesley w vision impairment <3 even if it turns out not being canon and just some weird coincidence of everything.

(also please do not steal this as i plan to post this myself on twt too, and again this is just a THEORY on why I PERSONALLY think he's such. You are free to disagree )

#wriothesley genshin #wriothesley #wriothesley hc #wriothesley theory #genshin theory #fontaine genshin #wolf guy² from hit game genshin impact #i am positively insane abt him #genshin impact #genshin

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thecryptidgrey · 1 year ago

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As an avid lover of his Dark Materials I have yet to see a BG3 daemons concept and that is a Crime. So here are some Thoughts below the cut :)

(Also something something about the representation of religion in HDM and how it correlates to BG3's depictions of faith and trauma. I have the Idea but I am too tired to do much with it; may return to the thought later.)

Shadowheart- a borzoi. Elegant, spooky looking, dramatic. Borzoi don't make much vocal noise but are very playful- instincts surpressed by Sharrens that thrive with the party (see that very cute night orchid scene specifically). Generally very sweet, loyal animals, like SH when you get to know her. Plus they look amazing.

(Act 3 spoilers- I also appreciate that she'll match it when she dyes her hair. Seems suitable dramatic for her.) Anyways, I also really like borzois and think it's be funny af to see in them trotting around in game like the weird willow tree ghost things they are.

Lae'zel- Githyanki don't have daemons; she finds them baffling. Very impractical to carry one's soul on the exterior, although perhaps an efficient companion in combat to have someone you share instincts with. After much discussion by the others she decides for them if she did have one it would be a red dragon. Nobody argues with that.

(She does decide she'd have to prove herself worthy of such a beast first, and if she trusts Tav admits that maybe she'd like if Vlaakith could give her a daemon bond with her future dragon. Would she get a dragon if she became Vlaakith's chosen? Idk, she would now.)

Karlach- Tieflings also don't have daemons. She wants one wholeheartedly. The party finds her a magic ring that allows her to summon a familiar- she gets a direwolf puppy as enthusiastic and adoring as she is :)

Said ring is obtained somewhere in the Shadowlands after she gets the cooldown upgrade so she can hug it as soon as she has it. Also it grows up absolutely massive. Its paws are the size of its head when it's a puppy. All the better for cuddling with!

Gale- Tara. Wizards, sorcerers, etc, tend to have magical creatures as familiars. This AU he had Tara since the beginning. He still summoned all the other weird shit he did as a kid, just with Tara's help. She is his voice of reason and holder of the braincells; he gets to keep one and it's all about Mystra. She's protecting the rest from its corruption. He gets them back when the party convinces him to tell Mystra to go fuck herself.

(I do chew upon the trans Gale headcanon sometimes. If anyone wishes to muse with me on how daemons, which are typically of the opposite sex to their human, would be incorporated into that, please do.) Edit- pls see comments for very illuminating interpretations of daemons and gender!! Very cool stuff!

Wyll- lanner falcon. Medium sized yet formidable bird of prey, the head of which was often depicted on Egyptian gods like Ra and Horus. Beautiful, noble and nimble creatures (good for a dexterity based build, which I focused on for him alongside charisma).

Mizora's pact significantly lengthened their tether; her devil-form punishment broke it and weakened their bond significantly, much to their distress- they hate to be out of vision of one another as a result. Halsin, Jaheira and especially my Tav Cerewyn helped him adapt to and understand the new tether.

Druids and their daemons are based on the His Dark Materials witches, who have significantly lengthened bonds. Druid bonds are just as strong in markedly different ways; each is more independent and their personalities more distinct. I will definitley expand more on this; I adore Wyll and really want to do his character justice. He's the knight in shining armour but he also made a deal with a devil to be said knight, so, y'know. His daemon should really reflect that complexity.

Astarion- luna moth (changed when he turned- he can't remember what she was before.)

Beautiful in a fragile, showy way. Short-lived. Desperate for the light. A silkmoth; silk for embroidery. He resents her for being such a reflection of the self he tries so desperately to hide yet is fiercely protective of her, so beautiful and soft and hopeful- moths exist to seek light, craving it like he longed for a knight in shining armour, like he yearns for the sun.

Cazador liked to pin her wings.

(I love my sad wet cat very much and so as payback for hurting my soul he is subjected to the tragedy that is my attempting to be poetic :) )

Halsin- bear. Druid daemons reflect their favoured Wild shapes. Strong, steady, reliable, protective. Optimal shape for snuggles, very nice and warm, overall :) vibes to look at and be around. (Bear is not present for That Scene. That Scene and daemons are not up for discussion, you degenerates. Thank you <3)

Jaheira- Eurasian lynx. Struggled a bit on this one- didn't think any of the wild shapes suited her as a daemon- so looked up the national animal of Romania (supposedly Jaheira's accent?) for potential inspiration. Got the lynx, which seems perfect. Medium sized, elegant, very dignifed and deadly hunters who inhabit forests. Notably very quiet and hard to track. Endangered, which resonated with me because of Jaheira's status as one of the last of the Old Guard, so to speak. Nocturnal, which I like because we meet Jaheira in the shadow-cursed lands. Ambush predator, which just goes with my Gloom Stalker build for her. Overall seems perfect for the legendary druid.

Minsc- Boo? Fuck knows man, Minsc gonna Minsc. I spent way too long thinking about Jaheira and now I don't have the energy left. If Gale can have Tara, Minsc can have Boo. I do love Minsc so I will be back to expand on him if the mood strikes me but also I think maybe I don't need to? Daemon Boo just seems Right. Will consult Minsc's backstory and update later if necessary.

Minthara- yet to recruit her so uncertain. Displacer beast seems apt, maybe? Something felinoid would really fit her tbh. Elegant and lethal, very aloof but loyal once you've got her. Input would be appreciated.

My Tav, Cerewyn, just in case ya'll are interested- a raven named Gwyn, short for something I haven't figured out how to spell yet.

Clever, calculating, very blunt and sarcastic to balance out Cere's generally stoic, quite, calm demeanour. Sharp eyed bird for a sharpshooter ranger's daemon. Cere is a beast master ranger/ druid of land multiclass; ravens are summonable both for wild companions and familiars and are a wild shape (Cere's preferred wild shape too).

A common species but not to be underestimated and generally unpredictable, which suits her. She romances Astarion and both she and the raven think he and his luna moth are the prettiest things they've ever seen. They're also very patient and perceptive of trauma due to (Extensive Backstory), so they're more than happy to take their time with earning his trust. Astarion is very appreciative of all the shiny things the raven likes to bring him, and also that it clawed one of Cazador's eyes out for daring to speak to Astarion like That.

CONC.; symbolism is fun and also painful :)

Daemon names are a work in progress; the muses gave me this then said lol nope and fucked off before I could ask them for appropriate names. Might post them with some sketches of the party and daemons together?

(I wrote this in Notes app at an ungodly hour with fuck all editing. It is incoherent, but if anything is genuinely incomprehensible, please tell me so I may at least try to fix it. Much love <3 if you made it this far you get to know I welcome suggestions for NPCs to give daemons next!)

First edit- I misspelled quiet so many times omfg

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willsimpforanyone · 2 years ago

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Good whatever time it is, if you're currently writing for request, could you write a GN!Monster!reader x percy Jackson where the reader recently got turned into a monster because they failed a quest for their parent?

good afternoon! i can definitely do that for you

this is gonna be more angsty than usual bc i can't imagine this went well

-----------------------------------

The words echoed in my head, chipping away at my resolve.

You've failed me. You're a waste. A disappointment.

I should never have trusted something so important to someone so weak.

I curled in on myself, bones still aching from being reformed and reshaped, muscles screaming from being stretched over this new form.

They didn't even tell me what they were going to do. They just had this... look in their eye, cold and cruel. I had begged, I had been on my knees and it meant nothing.

We were supposed to go out in threes, three of us on a quest, not one. I wasn't supposed to be by myself but they insisted, it was too secret to share with more than one person. They wanted me and me alone.

Maybe they wanted me alone.

My claws scraped against my tough skin, long and thin and alien. I was taller, larger. I tried to see properly, tears obscuring my vision, but the light seemed to pierce my brain and I shrieked, something inhuman and wild.

Everything hurt, everything was wrong, I didn't even know how I was breathing. I didn't know where I was and the confusion almost hurt more.

Something was moving. Familiar sounds, leaves being shuffled out the way of feet, twigs snapping under footsteps. Okay, I'm outside.

It provided the tiniest amount of comfort, along with a wave of fresh anxiety.

"Who's there?"

A voice! I know that voice! I risked opening my eyes again, twisted, clawed hand shading my face.

Brown and green, blue peaking through. A forest. Trees came into focus, then branches, then leaves. The light still felt like pins in my eyes but I had to know who spoke.

"Whoa, what the fuck are you?!"

Oh my gods. That... that was Percy.

He didn't know who I was. I didn't even know who I was. It felt like my organs squeezed painfully, panic and fear and desperation flooding my bloodstream.

I opened what I assumed was my mouth. What came out was some kind of whine, pitiful and pathetic. No words.

A flash of bronze made me freeze. Oh gods, that's Riptide, he's going to kill me.

I skittered back as best I could, pressing against tree bark. The sharpness of the texture didn't hurt and I hated it. I wasn't a threat, I wasn't going to hurt him, I wasn't what he thought I was, oh fuck he's going to kill me.

I had to talk, I had to make him understand. I tried to clear my throat, thick with fear. It made a hacking sound, like a cat throwing up. Slowly, I moved what I assumed was my tongue, poking it out and running it along my teeth. It was long and black and my teeth were thin and sharp.

Pushing aside the mental agony of not knowing what this body looked like, I tried to remember the way to form letters.

"H-eel-pp n-m-ee-"

I was crouched on the ground, making myself as small and unthreatening as possible, clawed hands wrapped around my legs. C'mon Percy, use your brain, a real monster wouldn't ask for help.

"H-hee-lp mmm-ee."

Please, please, Percy, I'm begging you to put the sword away, help me, please!

The bronze flash disappeared and I risked a deep breath. Good start, I can do this, we'll sort this out, he'll help.

"...you want help?" He took a step closer, hand still holding Riptide in pen form. "You're asking for help?"

"Pl-pleeea-eas-e?" I kept my hand shielding my eyes but I looked up at him. I couldn't see any recognition in his face, but I couldn't see much of anything.

"Who are you?" Percy demanded, a harsh tone that felt like a punch to the gut.

My name, he needed my name. How do I say my name?

It took a few attempts, letters getting jumbled up and my tongue contorting in ways I didn't like. Some of my teeth nicked it a little and I physically recoiled at the taste of my own blood as if I could get away from my own mouth.

Percy looked confused, but less aggressive. He seemed to be patient, waiting for an explanation.

Something approaching my name left my thin lips, and his eyes widened.

"How do you know them? What did you do?"

No! No, fuck, that's not what I meant!

I repeated my name, carefully using a claw to tap on my chest. "Mmm-ee."

Percy's jaw dropped. "You're... but they're out... oh gods, what happened to you?"

I burst into tears. Huge, ribcage-wracking sobs from between my needle teeth and I reached out for Percy with a dangerously sharp hand.

He put his hand in mine and I closed my spindly fingers around it. Tears blurred what little I could see, and my throat felt raw and scratchy from panic and holding back.

"Okay, okay, we're gonna fix this, okay?" Percy's voice was wobbly but calm. "We're going to undo this, and you're going to tell me what happened and I swear to Hades I will find who did this to you." His grip tightened on my hand.

"I will find them and I promise you, they will never hurt you again."

---------------------------------

i hope you enjoyed, thank you for requesting!

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #monster!reader #percy jackson x monster!reader #percy jackson imagine #gn!reader

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https-dollnini · 4 months ago

Text

ᴢʙ1 ᴀꜱ ꜱᴀɴʀɪᴏ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

Summary: My thoughts on what sanrio characters zb1 would be based off of their personality

Author Note: Was feeling a little silly and thought this was a good idea (I'm also a fat sanrio fan so this is very self indulgent)

ᴋɪᴍ ᴊɪᴡᴏᴏɴɢ ᴀꜱ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴍɪ

both of them look tough on the outside but are secretly sweet on the inside

defo people that pretend they listen to hard rock and then cry themselves to sleep with a ballad instead

the most misunderstood :(

but that means their also the ones to always include people and would rather die than make someone feel left out

i feel like the reason why i felt like jiwoong and kuromi matched the most in my head is because of how enigmatic and mysterious their personalities are made out to be

but trust that my man is a true softie at heart

ᴢʜᴀɴɢ ʜᴀᴏ ᴀꜱ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇʟᴏᴅʏ

do you see how coquette this man is

this paring is literally why i made this whole post

defo see my melody as a kind and gentle person

with hao as mother, everything in my head just clicked

the most calm and collected out of all of zb1, but that's probably just because he's an introvert in a room full of extroverts

also think that they both have such a strong liking for cute and pink things

mans literally said his favorite colour is pink

this pairing can not be any more perfect than it already is

ꜱᴜɴɢ ʜᴀɴʙɪɴ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ

you can not convince me that hanbin isn't main character coded

this is his world and we're just living in it

both of them have so many friends its insane, and are defo more on the talkative side

also feel like both of them are very dramatic

like have you seen this man every single time something mildly suprising happens

hes shocked to the core, on the floor, disgusted, making the weirdest facial expressions known to man

ALSO LOOK AT HOW CUTE BOTH OF THEM ARE

i rest my case

ꜱᴇᴏᴋ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴡ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴏᴍᴘᴏᴍᴘᴜʀɪɴ

the embodiment of a puppy

both of them are very playful and energetic in the cutest way possible

like have you seen this mans natural aegyo

they also spread positivity absolutely everywhere they go

like its oozing out of them

i refuse to believe that matthew has ever cried because when you have a smile like that why would you ever do anything other than show it off????

can you tell i like his smile...

ᴋɪᴍ ᴛᴀᴇʀᴀᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴇᴋᴋʟᴇ

i was seriously debating between whether putting him or yujin as cinnamoroll bcs in my head yujin kinda fit pochacco too

BUT then i remembered that pekkle. is. a. duck!?!?!?

that literally solved all my internal conflict

LOOK AT THEMMMMMMMM

both soft hearted to the core

also a little sassy but i think we expected that

i did a little research and apparently pekkle is really good at singing and dancing

literally so many similarities

matching them together is a canon moment in my life

ꜱʜᴇɴ Qᴜᴀɴʀᴜɪ ᴀꜱ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏᴄᴀᴛ

honestly this is less about personality and more about appearance

chococat being a black cat is so perfect that i had absolutely no choice but to give it to ricky

AND YOU SEE THAT STRAWBERRY PHONE CASE IN THE PICTURE?!?!?

as a strawberry enthusiast i think that ricky would approve

moving on, i think he's a playful and funny character

defo looks cold at first but once you warm up to him you see how he pays attention to the little details

lovelicky fr

ᴋɪᴍ ɢʏᴜᴠɪɴ ᴀꜱ ᴋᴇʀᴏᴘᴘɪ

look at this man and tell me he's not keroppi coded

sososososo cheerful and bright

he's literally one of he main mood makers of the group

also very mischievous too

i mean look at him teasing ricky every 3 seconds or annoying yujin with his love

and maybe this is the inner delulu speaking but i also think he actually looks like keroppi?!?!?

someone pls agree with me or ill cry no i really will

ᴘᴀʀᴋ ɢᴜɴᴡᴏᴏᴋ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴜxᴇᴅᴏ ꜱᴀᴍ

ik this is kind of a weird one

but you need to understand the vision

i feel like theyre both HUGE nerds (in the best way possible)

like you know how gunwook always sprouts random facts, or goes into a rant about information that no normal person would know???

yeah. thats what i mean.

i also feel like they're both really laid back people that love to enjoy the moment they're in to the fullest

i will continue pushing this agenda until everyone is brainwashed to agree with me

ʜᴀɴ ʏᴜᴊɪɴ ᴀꜱ ᴄɪɴɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴏʟʟ

we all saw this coming

so baby

thats all i have to say

literally just shy little cuties trying to make their way through life the best they can

once they warm up to you though...

they genuinely can't shut up

will say the weirdest things at the weirdest times for absolutely no reason

but they get a free pass because LOOK AT THEM OML IM GONNA DIE

the way i can see yujin using the excuse "i'm just a boy"

he is, just a shy, cute, menace of a kid

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