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argisthebulwark · 7 months ago

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Did I Find You, Or You Find Me?

summary: Due to forces outside of your control, you've found yourself stuck in an arranged marriage. f!reader, no y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Arnbjorn warnings: they're long lol. alcohol consumption, not super healthy relationship dynamics, a bit suggestive a/n: i meant to put some more fellas in here but tumblr was struggling to load this draft so i'll have to do a part two masterlist

Brynjolf

Born as the middle daughter of the Black Briar family you are fully aware of their interactions with the Thieves Guild. You've watched your mother meet with Brynjolf, catching glimpses when you're instructed to carry in stacks of paperwork or clearing away empty wine bottles after a long negotiation. His flirtatious remarks remarks leave you breathless, never going further than a shared smile or brushing shoulders in the hall.

As a middle child, you've often found yourself in an odd position - you're an adult and are expected to handle many responsibilities, yet still infantilized by your siblings. Often forgotten between Sibbi and Ingun's rebellions and Hemming's single minded dedication to the family, you're expected to pick up the pieces without making a fuss.

"We need to solidify our ties with the Thieves Guild." Mother's sharp voice interrupts your dinner. You nod along, picking at your potatoes and planning out the rest of your week. "How old are you now?"

"Twenty four."

"Oh, good!" The excited tone of her voice rouses suspicion. You peek up at your mother, heart ramming against your ribs - she's never taken an interest in your life before. This can lead nowhere good.

You can only hope that silence will make her forget you. Her schedule is usually so full that you're allowed to exist out of her eyeline - taking a few extra moments in the market to flip through some books or visiting Ingun in the alchemy shop to chat. There is joy to be found in those small moments when you escape from her calculated gaze.

Of course this doesn't happen. Before the week is out you find yourself standing in the Temple of Mara, heart in your throat and siblings snickering from the pews. The handsome thief is gentle when he holds your hands, voice a bit shaky as he reiterates every vow back to the priest.

Returning to the Ratways feels odd. You part from your family, ink drying on the many contracts as Brynjolf - your husband - leads you through the Cistern. You feel a bit like you're floating as the events of the day settle on your mind. Panic chokes out all rational thought - who will ensure that the animals are fed and organize the contracts in your absence?

"I'm sorry - this all happened so fast, you may need to show me around once more when my mind stops spinning." You can't recall half of what he's pointed out and your feet are aching. You gulp, staring up at Brynjolf's kind eyes.

"Don't worry, lass." That soft grin makes your heart race when he shows you the private quarters, a small room branching off from the tavern. "We're in the same boat, you've got me."

With each day that passes, that knot in your chest lessens. The anxiety shrinks as you settle into your new life, finding the lack of routine comfortable - no list of chores awaits you, no one calls for you to sit in on meetings. After twenty four years of responsibility it is terrifying to realize that no one expects anyone from you.

Despite all the initial fears you find yourself flourishing. Far from your mother's prying eyes you discover that you enjoy hearing stories from the other thieves, Vex and Delvin teaching you a few tricks and Tonilia offering to scrounge up a set of armor. No longer are you Maven's daughter or Hemming's sister - you are yourself.

Brynjolf maintains a respectable distance, never straying too far but making no moves toward romance. He acknowledges that your partnership is just that - an agreement set forth by others, it is not a true marriage. He joins you for dinner each night, finding himself eager to hear about what you've done that day.

"What did you mean back then?" You finally ask, surprised at how steady your voice has become. Brynjolf's gaze still makes your heart flutter but you no longer feel the need to shrink away from it.

"By what, lass?"

"When you said we're in the same boat."

"Ah." He leans closer, voice conspiratorially low. Your cheeks flush when his fingers dance over yours, barely a touch. "Well, I'm guessin' you weren't exactly excited by the prospect of marrying a stranger, yeah?"

"It wasn't my first choice."

"Wasn't part of my plan, either." You hate how your stomach drops at the admission. Of course you're aware that he hadn't truly wanted you, but that knowledge does little to soothe the sting.

"Delvin's too old and Vex hates dealin' with your mother." His eyes drop to where your fingers have twisted together, the toes of his boots brushing yours. "I didn't plan on it bein' me but I couldn't stomach the thought of anyone else marryin' you."

The weeks blend into months, changes in your life slow but steady. Brynjolf sets aside time each week to teach you how to wield a dagger. Your beds scoot closer and you stay up later talking, candles burning down to nubs while you share every little shred of yourselves. He tells you of this the people he's lost and you share the desperation you've always felt for more, blushing when he jokes about the fulfilling life of a thief.

Your confidence continues to blossom the longer you're away from your family, brave enough to disregard a direct summons from your mother. Somewhere she is steaming, Hemming probably cursing your name at her side. It's freeing to realize how little you care.

"Proud of you, lass." Brynjolf grins when you bounce up to him, excitedly recounting how cool it felt throwing her letter in the fire. His hand is warm when it cups your cheek. "How should we celebrate?"

A bit drunk on your newly found courage, you kiss him. You've thought about it for months, stomach fluttering when you first noticed the way his eyes linger on you. It's quick and your lips tingle a bit when your husband chuckles, already leaning in for another.

Miraak

"All of our efforts to reign in Miraak have failed." Arngeir's eyes pin you in place. Your ass is going numb from those stone seats but there's no escaping this conversation. "Dragonborn, the Jarls continue to call for action."

"I have tried everything to defeat Miraak."

"Yet we remain unsuccessful." Biting your tongue barely contains the multitude of protests. Your body bears scars from the many times you've faced Miraak and his cultists, brain addled by the ages you'd spent combing through Apocrypha's twisting hallways.

"Miraak has a clear interest in you." Borri chimes in, voice hoarse from lack of use.

"He speaks the truth, Dragonborn." Arngeir concurs. "We have formulated a new plan. The Jarls have approved, as have many leaders from Solstheim."

"Wonderful." You grumble, hauling yourself to your feet. Might as well start preparing. "What is this new plan of attack?"

"You will offer yourself to Miraak."

"Your plan is to sacrifice me?" The shrill tone of your voice echoes off the stone walls. "How will my death resolve anything?"

"Not as a sacrifice. As a bride."

Despite your many protests, it seems that Miraak could not pass up an opportunity to get under your skin. He agrees to the proposition - you become his partner and he scales back the attacks on civilians. The rage becomes almost mind numbing. You cannot believe that this plan is being enacted, that your elders are offering you up for the mere promise of peace.

When Arngeir bustles you out the door he instructs you to slay the First Dragonborn. His voice is stern when he informs you that you will not be welcomed back to Skyrim's shores until Miraak is dead. The old men don't listen to a single protest that passes your lips, somberly shaking their heads and claiming that this is the last resort. Their trust is placed in you.

There is no ceremony, no hint of romance - just your stack of books and a bout of seasickness as you're ferried to Solstheim. Cultists meet you at the dock, Raven Rock entirely silent as too many pairs of eyes watch them escort you to Miraak's palace. You walk with your chin held high and pray that no one notices the fear simmering just under your skin.

Miraak's glare tracks each move you make as you prowl through his manor. You keep your distance, intent on finding some hidden weakness that will break him without rousing too much suspicion. You circle one another, neither willing to break the peace and strike first. Even when you are alone he maintains some sort of mask - always obscuring at least half of his face, never giving you a full view.

Meals are silent except for thinly veiled threats. Doors to both bed chambers are locked and barred each night. You find comfort in his library, sprawling shelves holding volumes thought long lost and safe from the mind bending power of Apocrypha. On days when you grow too exhausted to search you tuck yourself away into a secluded corner of the library and read until your eyes can't focus.

"You do not have to hide." Miraak's deep voice shocks you out of your reading. He eyes the stack of books at your side and you feel terribly vulnerable. "This is now your home as much as it is mine."

Clearly displeased with your lack of response, he huffs and walks away. Your brain struggles to catch up - the usual nasty tone of his voice was gone, something almost kind about the way he'd spoken to you. It's disconcerting.

Thankfully, you are too preoccupied with your assignment to notice how deeply he burns for you. You do not see the heat behind his glare or the tension in his body when you drift too near, barely keeping a leash on the gut wrenching desire.

Miraak finds it quite easy to convince himself that he detests you - the flipping of his gut is mere disgust and your permanent place in his dreams is blamed on that damned prophecy. You are too distracted sniffing around for clues to notice how deeply and shamefully he wants you.

"What is it you seek?" His voice nearly stops your heart. Blade aimed for his chest you whirl around, scolding yourself for lowering your guard enough for him to get so close. You pause, gaping at the face he's hidden behind masks for months and fight back the horrible wave of attraction.

The crooked nose, stubble trailing up his jaw, dark eyes glaring down at you. Grey streaks are visible where his hair's pushed away from his forehead. A scar drags through his lower lip, drawing far too much of your attention. Grinding your teeth against the way your cheeks blush, you summon every ounce of vitriol you can.

"None of your business."

"Incorrect. You are in my study."

"What I am searching for does not regard you."

"Doubtful, little dragon." You curse your heart for flipping at that pet name. Miraak's grin is nearly a snarl when he leans closer, unable to keep himself away from you any longer.

For one night, he will release his self control. He will make himself vulnerable if it means he can get a bit closer to you.

Vilkas

As the eldest daughter of a Jarl, your duties never cease. Keeping an eye on your siblings, watching the advisors in preparation for your role, learning from wizards and teachers and warriors alike - it is endless. From a young age you'd intended on caring for your beloved city of Whiterun whether you acted as Jarl or advisor, content with putting in the work for your future.

"We need a foot in the door with the Companions." Proventus' words had roused no suspicion at the time - he'd said similar things about the guild before. "They are unregulated, acting entirely separate from us."

"This is true." Your father had turned to you, heart in your throat at the prospect of proving yourself. You'd fine tuned your political knowledge over the past few years and finally, an opportunity to prove yourself to his court. "Can you be trusted with this task?"

You had no clue what you were agreeing to. You'd anticipated a cordial relationship, that you would be acting as a emissary. You expected to form a diplomatic relationship with the Companions. You'd met a few warriors for training but the prospect of working with them was intriguing, their reputation was equally vicious and respectable.

You try to keep it together for the first meeting. Kodlak Whitemane is intimidating but you stand tall beside your father, chin held high and sword strapped to your side. It has never tasted blood but the advisors had insisted upon you looking your best, presenting yourself as a capable fighter.

Kodlak's warriors appear cleaned up, though you notice the scars - tattoos swirl between the gaps in their armor and wary eyes watching every shadow. The one at his side looks ready to implode; hand wrapped menacingly around the hilt of his sword and dark eyes sweeping over you with barely contained disdain. He sneers, clearly seeing through your carefully placed facade. Your stomach drops when he stands only a few paces from you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

The meeting moves too fast to follow. Kodlak and your father speak in hushed tones, all the other advisors cloistered around them. Notably, you are left out - they must be bartering on your behalf, right? Why else would you be left out of the conversation? Three Companions stand at your side, each appearing equally annoyed.

"May I ask why your folks seem displeased?" You whisper to the man at your side, the one who appears less standoffish than the others. Soft brown eyes blink back at you, a short laugh badly disguised as a cough.

"Surprised you're takin' this so well. We had bets on you running out."

"What?"

"Aela thought you'd last through the discussions. I thought you'd bolt as soon as you saw him. And Vilkas, well he refused to make a bet." The man laughs again, a hand extended toward you. Your head is spinning when the dark haired man walks off in a huff, his anger radiating through the hall.

"Vilkas?"

"Yeah." You follow where he points out the man now shouldering his way into the circle of advisors. "Your new husband."

Despite his initial vitriol, Vilkas is annoyingly formal. He speaks to you as a member of the court - stiff and respectful. He spends little time in your company, taking every assignment offered by his elders to get him out of the city.

You can't say it isn't hurtful. Your union was one of mutual convenience for your families but to see your husband so clearly uninterested wounds you. Your conversations are brief, each focused entirely on whatever business Kodlak has with your father.

You hold your chin high, remaining in your father's home and listening to the advisors fret. Your visits to Jorrvaskr are not unpleasant but there is a notable lack of progress - Aela and Farkas are friendly, Athis slowly warms to you, but it is abundantly clear that they all view you as an outsider. Vilkas can barely remain in the hall, his brother kindly making excuses on his behalf.

Sleeping in your childhood bedroom as a married adult feels strange, though you console yourself with the knowledge that it is not a real marriage. No rings or tender words had been exchanged. It was merely a contract signed by Kodlak and your father on your behalf. You drift off to sleep with the image of Vilkas in your head, wracking your brain for what can be done to smooth things out.

"Hey."

Scrambling for the knife under your pillow, you barely manage to swallow the scream building in your throat. With the blade quivering in your hand you aim it toward your attacker's chest. Vilkas' dark eyes glare down at you, hair mussed and usual armor missing. You blink a few times when turns toward the door.

"Can't sleep. You coming?"

"Coming where?"

"Anywhere but here."

He hardly says a word when you stride out of Dragonsreach. He scoffs at the way you sneak past the guards, dagger still gripped in your hand. You follow him down the chilly steps until you're seated on a bench, backs to the Gildergreen.

"Sorry." He grumbles, dropping his cloak around your shoulders. "Bet you're freezing."

You're too stunned to question it. The cloak smells of him and you find yourself burrowing deeper into it, the first kind move he's made. Vilkas sits at your side, glaring out at the starry sky for what feels like hours.

"What is happening?" You finally ask, glancing over at him. You catch his striking profile, outlined by the silvery moonlight of late night; the sharp bridge of his nose and harsh brows, the lips that look surprisingly soft when they aren't grimacing. Your stomach flips when his eyes slide to you, though they appear uncharacteristically kind.

"Needed to get out for a bit." He shrugs, heaving a sigh. "Figured you could use a break from that place."

It's hard to predict when he will seek you out. Vilkas only appears in the dead of night, often the night before he departs for an assignment. You wander through Whiterun, enjoying the emptiness of the town while he tells you of his recent missions. You are giddy each time he refuses your attempts to return his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders to walk aimlessly at his side.

Not wanting the conversations to be one sided, you soon find yourself sharing more. Stories of court and your siblings feel boring in comparison but Vilkas seems interested. He remembers names remarkably well, asking after your brother's injured arm weeks after you'd brought it up.

It takes months for you to broach the topic of your future. You've grown comfortable in his company, no longer unsettled by the intensity of his gaze. He is still far from a husband but there is something like friendship blooming between you, an attraction that squeezes at your heart each time he smiles at you.

"I just want to be free." You admit, gazing out over the horizon. As you've spoken the sunrise has begun, rays of pink and orange reaching out to steal the night. You have to return to Dragonsreach soon before everyone else wakes. Despite that reasoning you find yourself leaning into Vilkas' shoulder, heart fluttering when he accepts your touch.

"Free?" He snorts, chin resting on the top of your head. "You're the Jarl's kid, you can do whatever you want."

"I've never made a choice for myself - I didn't even get to choose my husband." Clearly the lack of sleep has loosened your tongue. Vilkas chuckles, a sound that never fails to warm your heart.

"That's fair." He sighs, staring over your shoulder at Jorrvaskr. He's sure that the others have already awoken, chest tight with the unending duties threatening to drown him. "Someday, when we're done solving everyone else's problems, we'll get out of here."

Farkas

Since an early age, you've been warned to stay away from the Companions - their shimmering armor and heroic deeds are inviting but they do not live like you do. Their beast blood is a secret held only by those in the highest ranks, hidden away from the rest of their guild. You've never understood the secrecy but abide by your parents' warnings, heeding the wisdom of your pack.

Numbers have dwindled over the years. Tales told around the long table recount times when your pack commanded Whiterun's rolling plains, hunting and celebrating to their hearts' content. Each generation shrunk - the beast blood not passing on to younger generations and civilization encroaching upon the wilds. Handfuls of families have splintered off, some moving to new Holds while others joined larger packs.

You're fairly certain your hearing must be failing - after ages of warning every wolf off from dealing with the local guilds, your grandmother grimaces around those unbelievable words.

"What?"

"We can no longer survive on our own." She reiterates, your ears ringing. "These lands have been overhunted and new farms claim acres of land every day. Now with the Silver Hand moving into Whiterun," she sighs, gathering herself. Tears prick at your eyes when she rests a wrinkled hand on your shoulder. "Our family has entered an agreement with the Companions."

"Okay." You're struggling to wrap your head around this change but you'll manage - the pit in your stomach for months could finally cease. You know that food sources are growing scarce and numbers are falling but you're still a bit lightheaded at the finality of her statement.

"We've assured their continued support. They cannot back out of this deal."

"How? What do we have to give them?"

"You and some of the others will be married to the younger members of their inner circle."

It's like a punch to the gut. Your marriage is still a handful of years off but you will never forget about it - wondering each day if this is your last before being shackled to the Companions for the rest of your life. Your first meeting happens during a celebratory dinner, your heart in your throat as Kodlak presents the members of his pack.

One boy glowers across the hall and sneers at anyone who dares to speak to him. His brother stands nearby, a friendly smile on his face when Kodlak's hand lands on his shoulder. You can only pray that you aren't partnered with the unpleasant one.

"I'm Farkas." The kind boy introduces himself, calloused hand warm against yours. It takes a moment to remember your name - thankfully, your grandmother pats your shoulder and speaks for you.

"Nice to meet you." You choke out, terrified to be staring into the face of your future husband. His smile comes easily, dimples in his cheeks eyes radiating kindness. Light brown hair is braided out of his face and a broadsword is strapped across his well muscled back.

You spend the night awaiting the horrible stories your elders passed down to come true - that the Companions will shame your way of life or scoff at the state of your hall, but they are amiable. A bit reserved but they do nothing to earn your distrust. They share food and drink hauled down from their hall, listening intently to the stories told by your parents.

Farkas fits in too well. Even after Kodlak and the others stop visiting, contracts signed and goods exchanging hands, Farkas keeps coming. He shows up on your mother's doorstep with an armful of food and brings your siblings presents on their birthdays. Each time he appears you're shocked - this was sold to you as a marriage of convenience, one to fully unite your families. The grin on his face when he teaches your brother how to properly swing a sword or his willingness to help clear the dishes after dinner make you wonder if he was told something different.

Even as the season of your intended wedding approaches you cannot scrape up any distaste for him. You find your heart fluttering when Farkas rolls up his sleeves to help your father chop firewood or falls onto your bed at your side, curiously eyeing whatever book you're reading. You've both grown into a comfortable friendship, choosing to not speak of what awaits you only a few months away.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Farkas offers, eyes sliding your way. Even after all these years he still makes speech difficult, the friendly smile causing your brain to stop functioning. He's asked the question dozens of times but there's something loaded behind his words that makes this feel different. He's so careful when he holds your hand, clearly giving you space to shake him off.

Farkas follows the same path as always around local farms, a pleasant expression on his face but you feel the nerves radiating from him. Perhaps you've just got enough anxiety for you both.

"What's wrong?" You blurt, unable to contain the nerves any longer. Eyes sparkling in the moonlight Farkas turns to you and you're certain the whole valley can hear your heart ramming against your ribs.

"I want to marry you." His voice is uncharacteristically serious.

"That's been arranged since we were kids."

"No, I mean for real." Farkas insists, chilly fingers tracing the shape of your cheek. You've been close to others but nothing has felt like this, no one else has set your skin ablaze with a simple touch.

"I need you to know that I'm not just doing this because Kodlak said to. I want to be here with you, with your family - I want you."

It takes a few minutes to digest that - he wants you. Farkas is patient when you work through that, fingers tightening around yours as he awaits an answer. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you finally voice the feelings you've ignored for years.

"I want you, too."

Kissing him is so easy, it feels natural. He smells like home; the hands cupping your face are stained from helping your parents cook and the scent of your fireplace clings to hair you'd tied back. Farkas kisses you like it's the first time he's taken a breath, needy and desperate. His nose brushes yours before he's pulling back, that comforting smile rousing butterflies in your gut.

The wedding you'd spent years dreading surpasses all your expectations. Farkas cries the moment he sees you, tears streaming down his cheeks when he pledges each day of his life to yours. You pointedly ignore all the vows regarding duty and tradition - you love this man. You've fallen in love with him slowly and without realizing it, loving him a bit more each day you've spent with him. He speaks of his love for you and respect for your family, summoning fat tears in your eyes when he kisses you.

"Thanks for lovin' me." He murmurs into your hair, crushing you to his chest.

Arnbjorn

"You should do it."

"Absolutely not."

"It's the best way to ensure the survival of both our Guilds!" Delvin insists, that smug look on his face. He thinks he's already won. "If we don't come to an agreement, our groups are bound to cannibalize each other. Our customer base and services are too similar."

"All good points."

"Every Jarl is out for our blood and both of our Guilds have recently lost leaders." It's annoying how correct he is. Delvin nudges the ale toward you, clearly urging you to consider. "A partnership would solve nearly all our problems."

"And why can it not be a business partnership?" You ask, accepting the drink. "Your relationship with the Brotherhood has stood since before I even joined the Guild, has something caused you to doubt it?"

"Unfortunately." Delvin's expression sours at that. "Their new leader."

You agree to a meeting with their new leader, expecting the Listener - they've visited a few times when the Brotherhood needed Delvin's aid, most recently during their move to Dawnstar. Your friendship is easy but holds no attraction, certainly nothing that would tempt you into a marriage.

"The Listener isn't their official leader." Delvin corrects you at the last minute, the group of shadows entering the Flagon. "It's the old leader's widower."

He stands before you, intimidatingly tall and muscled. Unimpressed eyes shamelessly comb through the crowd of thieves, white hair braided away from a handsome face. Delvin's elbow nudges yours and your face burns when you stumble over your introduction, clearing your throat before the conversation begins.

It's rough. Their leader, Arnbjorn, clearly lacks his former partner's knack for negotiation. You'd only encountered Astrid a couple times before her death but remembered her way of speaking, calculated with a constant threat in each word. Arnbjorn is much more straightforward, the Listener and Nazir looking a bit uneasy at his side.

"I have no need of a wife." He speaks plainly, earning a glare from his companions. "My hands are full running the Brotherhood and looking after the recruits."

"My thoughts exactly." you concur, though the conversation spirals away from that point once again.

Gods, you feel like this is never going to end. Hours pass and Delvin's sheet of notes has become illegible. The Listener is predictably quiet, taking in everyone's words while Delvin and Nazir hash out the details - where barriers for contracts should be, how to notify the other, who can recruit in what regions. After far too many drinks their words devolve into an obnoxious drone.

You aren't entirely sure anyone notices when you excuse yourself. Maybe a breath of fresh air will clear your head. You're certain that the sun has risen and quite possibly fallen once more since the negotiations had begun, shuffling your way through the Cistern in search of the outdoors.

"Hey."

Two strong fingers grab your elbow just as you're about to climb to freedom. You turn, sucking in a deep breath when you realize that you're cramped into the secret passageway with Arnbjorn. His cheeks are flushed - he's had even more drinks than you, leaning on the wall for support.

"What?" You try to sound sure of yourself despite the distracting closeness of his body. It's troubling how handsome he is. Arnbjorn blinks at you, sucking in a deep breath before speaking.

"I didn't want you to think my protests have anything to do with you." He clears his throat, obviously struggling to speak so plainly. "It's just - my wife passed away. You're very pretty but I have to think about the Brotherhood."

"I understand." You breathe, unable to ignore the way his eyes seem glued to your mouth. He leans a bit closer and you can smell him, smoke and pine and you fight back the wave of attraction.

Kissing him is foolish. You know this. It is a dumb mistake that you cannot stop yourself from making, closing the tiny distance between you. His lips are warm and god, the large hand curling around your waist and drawing you closer feels divine. His body presses to yours, crowding you against the stone wall until you can feel every delicious inch of him.

"Oh gods -" Delvin's voice shatters the moment. You're shrinking back, Arnbjorn stumbling a few steps away but it's too late. Your face burns when Delvin and the Listener's stares pin you in place. "Well, looks like our problem solved itself."

Marrying him is strange. Arnbjorn is stiff and standoffish, barely grumbling when the arrangements are drawn up. It's hard to forget that kiss, heat creeping into your cheeks every time the memory emerges. He's not unkind, just unwaveringly professional.

"If you're not interested in your wife," the client's words are slurred when he nudges Arnbjorn. "Mind if I take a swing?" A few too many celebratory drinks have been shared after your first successful joint contract. He stares intently at you, arousal pounding through his veins at the sight of you wearing Brotherhood armor.

"What?" The wave of sheer rage catches him off guard. Arnbjorn glares down at the drunken lord, anger building when the man leers toward your group of thieves. He's restrained himself for so long, ignored the way your eyes linger and seek him out because of his damned principles - but he will not allow this.

"You clearly don't want her. No harm in someone else gettin' a chance, right?" The man grumbles into his goblet. "After all the coin I handed out for this job -"

All conversation ceases when Arnbjorn bolts out of his seat. Before you can ask what's wrong he's stalking toward you, fingers gentle but insistent when they grip your chin and tilt your lips toward his. His kiss is full of heat, brain flooding with unabashed arousal as your husband's hips press firmly into yours.

"What's this all about?" You pant, cheeks burning bright red when his nose brushes yours.

"Don't worry about it." Arnbjorn grumbles against your lips. He'll let his reservations slip for this evening of celebration. He tells himself that he will rebuild all those walls in the morning, allowing himself this one night as your husband.

#skyrim #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #brynjolf #miraak #vilkas #farkas #arnbjorn

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vera-deville · 8 months ago

Text

I Will Say (I'm Fucked)

05/06/2024 - 05/10/2024

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Reader Word Count: 2,027 Warnings: The usual cursing; Y/N does the infamous Wattpad stuttering (it's only one line, I promise-) Gender: AFAB Tags: @viviennevermillion, @achy-boo, @savanaclaw1996, @otomyoli, @chroniccorvus Notes: This is the third and final installment to this fic, so please read the previous two parts for more context!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

In which Leona finally asks out his favorite herbivore.

"Shit." Y/N hissed as she swung open the door to her dorm, only to reveal a certain blonde stalker outside.

"You're late Trickster~" Rook sang.

"I know, I know, don't tell Vil though-" You replied, eyes practically begging for him to give you a free pass.

"Seeing as you're not in Pomefiore..." He began, "I suppose I could let it slide this once."

You heaved a sigh of relief, until you felt that heave get locked in your throat at the sight of another person behind Rook.

Vil Schoenheit.

Vil Schoenheit was the house warden of Pomefiore, a house belonging to the esteemed Night Raven College (or NRC for short). He was a well-renowned actor, a celebrity in his own right, and possessed beauty that rivaled no other (except for maybe Neige in the eyes of some Rook). He was known for his strictness, but no one could deny the results that emerged from them (except for maybe Epel).

Vil Schoenheit was also a good friend of Y/N. One of her closest friends, in fact. And as such, his generosity knew no limits with her.

Hence why she was getting torn into pieces as the trio walked to their respective classrooms.

"Vil, as much as I love you, I will not hesitate to throw your new eyeshadow palette into the garbage if you don't stop harassing me in the hallways this morning." You told the beauty queen.

Seething, he replied, "You will do no such thing." Eyes steel cold, he walked a little faster ahead as he continued, "As a Prefect, I expect you to uphold certain virtues even if you do not have many people in your dorm.

You sneered at this.

"Don't tell me how to do my job Schoenheit."

"Then do it properly Prefect."

Rook watched as the two of you glowered over one another, simply happy to be basking in the presence of his friends (plus it was always amusing when you and Vil would argue). He knew that despite your differences, the two of you were as close as friends could be. Even your bickering was in loving nature.

Soon enough, you reached your class and the Pomefiore duo bade goodbye to you before making their way to their class. Smiling to yourself, you played the last five minutes in your head over and over, highlighting your favorite bits as you sat in your seat.

Mozus Trein was a very particular individual. The subject he taught wasn't necessarily popular amongst the students of NRC, but amongst the fair few who did enjoy the class was the Prefect of Ramshackle.

You.

History did by no means come easy to you, but seeing as you were in a completely different world and said world had magic in it, reading history books was more or less akin to reading fairytales. And there were so many of them-

In short, you were something of a fan of Twisted Wonderland's history.

And it showed great results.

"Well done again Y/N." Professor Trein smiled at you as he placed the test paper on your desk. "You seem to have done exceptionally well on the essay portion of your test."

You thank him and say, "Well, the history of Briar Valley is particularly fascinating."

"Every bit the teacher's pet, I see." The professor jested.

You gawked in response.

Class ended sooner than you wished (in your defense, it really was an interesting class), but the rumbling of your stomach opened avenue to better things in life.

In other words - lunch.

Walking alongside Grim, you meet the rest of your first year friends in the cafeteria. With your utensils in hand, you were oh so ready to dig in when a certain red-head interrupted you.

"Yo Y/N."

"What is it Ace?" You asked, annoyed at the timing he had.

"Leona's been watching you really intensely." He noted. But then his smile turned mischievous. "When'd you piss him off?"

Having had enough of him already, you smacked the back of his head, nearly breaking out a grin after hearing Deuce choke on his sandwich when he laughed at the action. "I didn't do shit Trappola. Don't jinx it-"

Rubbing the back of his head, he said, "You're fucking crazy, you know that, right?"

"Damn straight."

Jack, though not fond of the use of vulgar language, did also find the situation funny, and barely managed to conceal a snort as he ate his own food. Epel on the other hand felt no need to conceal his as he guffawed his enthusiasm all whilst bits and pieces of food fell out.

Unfortunately for Epel, he did not notice the looming figure of his house's warden steadily approaching him.

"It seems our lessons still haven't gotten through to you Baby Potato." Vil sneered as Epel whipped around to see him, clearly not expecting to see him. "No matter. I'll be sure to whip you into shape soon enough."

The rest of the first years watched as Epel visibly shivered at Vil's words and as he was dragged away by the said man.

"It's not fair! Y/N and Ace cursed too!"

Whipping his head around to glare at the other two perpetrators, Vil only shook his head before continuing to drag Epel to his immediate lessons.

Epel felt betrayed, and Ace's stink eye wasn't really making matters better.

Rook slunk around to you before anyone else could notice, and managed to say one thing before Vil called for him.

"Roi des Lions seems to be very interested in something in your direction my dear Trickster."

You looked around your friends, trying to determine if they'd heard what Rook had said, but Lady Luck seemed to be on your side because they were still busy watching Epel get dragged away.

Shooting Rook a glare as he went on his merry way to wreak havoc elsewhere, you decided to chance a peek at the lion who now two very annoying (but for some reason highly observant) people had mentioned was staring at you.

Sure enough, he was indeed staring at you.

Not in a smoldering way (which is what you assumed), but rather a lazy manner which befit his personality wholly.

And upon noticing you looking at him in return, Leona's lazy stare mutated into a sly grin (also befitting his personality wholly) before he finally turned his gaze to his food.

The interaction left you feeling a tad giddy, but mainly because he was such an intimidating figure. Not because you had a large sweltering crush on him or anything.

Oh wait.

We're done being in denial now, aren't we?

So maybe, just maybe, the giddiness could be attributed to the chemical infatuation you had with the man.

It was later on in the day, around the time that classes were ending for the day that you found Ruggie.

Or rather, Ruggie found you.

And boy was he weird as hell (weirder than usual, that is).

You noticed that the lavender-colored flower petal tangled in his scarf as he simply watched you for a full 5 seconds (yes, you counted), and then proceeded to do his little hyena laugh before saying "Have fun Y/N~"

However, Twisted Wonderland was full of weirdos, and if you gave every single one of them the time of your day, you'd be stuck the resident therapist. Not that you don't already do that.

Besides, you had to get to Professor Crewel's class, and no one wanted to be late for that-

This time, Lady Luck was not on your side because you had in fact been late (albeit by a few mere seconds), but it was enough to be called out in front of the whole class by Crewel and put a damper on your already dampered mood.

You couldn't wait for classes to be done with already-

Sucking it up, you propelled through the class, only to lose all motivation by the end of it, because Crewel had assigned homework. And a lot of it.

The homework in itself wasn't anything too difficult. If there was something you didn't know, all you had to do was reference a textbook, and that'd be it. The problem lied in the fact that Crewel had assigned a 1,500 word essay regarding any potion of the students' choice and they had to finish it over the weekend.

This was too much. Even for Crewel.

Grim wanted to go watch Ace's basketball practice with Deuce, and you figured that you could use the time alone and maybe even get a head start on your essay, so you walked with vigor back to Ramshackle.

When you got there, a tall figure rests against your door, and you nearly jump back in fright from the sight.

"Leona!? What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

Oooooh, that was smooth (although anything that came out of his mouth seemed smooth at this point).

Deciding to be a little braver than usual, you pranced right up to him, faking a confident smile and asked, "what for?"

And that's when a flurry of lavender was gently jolted into your line of sight.

It took a few seconds, but you were eventually able to will yourself to look at Leona instead of the flowers.

"I'm here to ask you out."

Now your heart had gone quiet too.

"Uh-" You started, "I-me?"

Real smooth.

"Who else for, Herbivore?" Leona asked, eyebrow raising questioningly.

"Just wondering," you make out meekly. So much for the brave confident girl act.

Trying to regain mobility in your arms, you tried to gracefully accept the flowers.

"You look like a mechanical doll." Leona commented on the strange way your limbs seemed to move.

That seemed to snap you out of your lovestruck daze as you grabbed the flower bouquet with one hand and hit Leona's arm with the other.

Not it felt awkward.

You still hadn't responded to the whole 'I came here to ask you out' thing and you'd also just slapped the guy (although it wouldn't have done any damage whatsoever on him) right after you grabbed the flowers he got for you.

You kinda wanted to disappear at the moment.

"So?" Leona prodded. Looking up at him again, trying to find the words, he continued "do you want to go out with me?"

You like to think it was his eyes. His eyes though intimidating, also bring some strange sense of calmness over you. And it was those eyes that made you answer him clear-headed.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

And now that you were a little more clear in the mind, you noticed how Leona's facial expression showed the tiniest bit of expression - relief. And that's when you realized that you weren't the only nervous person in this situation. Leona (although to what extent, you were unsure) was also anxious, clearly about what your answer, your decision would be.

"Great. I'll see you at The Winstonian next Friday at 7:00 P.M."

The Winstonian? That sounded fancy.

"I'll see you then Leona."

Nodding, Leona started walking away when you interrupted him with a question.

"Hey Leona? What's the dress code?"

"Just wear something formal."

That was a problem. You didn't have anything formal in your closet (aside from your NRC uniforms, but you really didn't think anyone would wear that to a first date-

Leona waited a moment to see if you had any more questions before sauntering off back to his dorm.

"Leona!"

He turned around.

Pushing your rapidly beating heart down your chest, you asked, "Can you help me with this essay I have to write for Crewel?"

It wasn't much, and sure, the date was in a week, but letting him go now seemed like such a waste. Maybe you could spend just a teensy bit of time with him before the big night.

Leona's eyes glowed a green ember.

"Sure Herbivore."

You couldn't help the grin from spreading on your face as you invited the lion into your dorm and at the idea of a totally not study date with him before the actual first date.

God you were so fucked for this man.

Author's Note: Alright, so this (not originally planned to be) series is officially over! I hope I did the last part justice and that you enjoyed reading it (not gonna lie, it feels like it's missing something), but I have decided that if I ever find out something that I want to add to this, I can always do so in the form of drabbles. Also, it's worth mentioning that the original idea I had for this story was that Leona would keep trying to ask out the reader, but fail a whole bunch of times before succeeding. I obviously went down a different route, but I might write that story idea separately (not affiliated with this series). Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

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yuurei20 · 2 months ago

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Lilia Facts Part 24: Video Games and Azul

Lilia maybe had an interest in video games from even before enrolling at NRC, saying that he once bought a console while on one of his journeys, but he was never able to play it because Briar Valley did not have electricity.

Ortho gifts him with the same console, Ortho commenting that the console’s heyday was presumably before Lilia was even born, and Lilia says that he has gotten big into online gaming since enrolling at NRC and consistently stays up all night binge-gaming.

On the subject of a video games, Jamil comments that Lilia reminds him of Idia.

Idia is surprised to hear that Silver’s father plays online games, and Lilia interrupts their conversation to remind Silver about a quest that he promised to play through together with him.

Silver says that Lilia always looks so happy when talking about video games.

Vil is not amused by Lilia’s late-gaming habit and Lilia says, “If I play late at night, there is too much competition. So l've become an early bird like the rest of you. It's much... MUCH easier.”

Lilia calls Azul a “schemer” who knows better than to make an enemy out of Diasomnia, and teases him about offering to look after their sums with no strings attached.

Lilia’s less-than-favorable impression of Azul may have come from how Lilia appears to be entirely aware that it was Azul who aided Leona in his scheme for Book 2.

Lilia seems to trust Azul enough to ask him to show the others the ropes during Glorious Masquerade, and approves of Azul’s idea that Malleus perform a song during the social.

#twstfacts #twstlilia #Lilia Vanrouge #twisted wonderland #liliafacts

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miss-tc-nova · 4 days ago

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A Lonely Fear - Malleus Draconia x Reader

I am SO sorry this took so long! I actually really fell in love with this idea, but struggled with getting from A to B as usual. Also, as you can see, this accidentally turned into one of my mediumer ones. Oops. Oh well. It's not perfect, but I hope you enjoy!

Premise: The prefect rejects Malleus's offer at living longer but realizes it was a mistake

Words: 1,759

~~~~~

“Do you not want that?”

“N-No!”

Leaning against the stone wall, I rest a hand to my chest, heart thrumming beneath my fingers. Sure, I’d run all the way from Ramshackle to the college castle, but that’s only part of the reason for my rapid pulse.

Malleus Draconia, an extraordinary mage and noble royal fae, has very little grasp on just how imposing his world is to mortals like me. This realm of magic alone is intimidating—leaving me near helpless to the whims of my classmates—but to even fathom the reality of the fae is like a bottomless pit of unknown.

Yet that is exactly what he offered me.

The future king of Briar Valley offered to extend my time among the living, proudly displaying the gem he’d acquired. He was so pleased with his discovery, but I just couldn’t share that sentiment. For my own weakness, I declined. Then bolted.

Now here I stand, trying ot rein in the adrenaline, all the while, that look of disappointment amasses a guilt in the pit of my stomach. There’s nothing to do about it now, however, as the piercing bell signals the beginning of the next class.

~~~~~

Hues of orange and violet have only just begun to blossom across the sky. Even now, as I trudge towards the Hall of Mirrors, I can’t help thinking of that somber expression. It interrupts my every though like a plague, gnawing at my heart for the hurt I’ve caused. I should’ve explained myself, but at the very least, I owe Malleus an apology for my poor reaction.

Stepping through the doors of the Diasomnia dorm, I see neither hide nor hair of the dragon but someone else spots me. The petit junior waves me closer as the sophomore pours his tea, moving on to the freshman’s.

“If it isn’t the Ramshackle prefect,” Lilia greets. “Care to join us for a cup of tea? Chamomile is good for clearing one’s mind after a stressful day.”

“Uh, maybe next time. Have you guys seen Malleus?”

Ruby eyes find the ceiling in thought. “Not since this morning. But you know full well that he’s the wandering type.”

“My liege said he had an important task to tend to today.” Sebek’s expression turns crestfallen. “But he declined to let me aid him.”

“He looked pretty excited when he left,” Silver adds, taking his seat.

Well that doesn’t help me at all.

Even worse, Lilia remains ever observant, catching my disappointment. “Is something the matter? Did you two get into a little spat?” That cheeky grin attempts to lighten the mood. “Seven help that boy if so.”

My head shakes. “No, I…”

The three stare at me, mostly patiently waiting for me to continue. I suppose if anyone could help me through this, it would be them.

I take the fourth seat at the table.

“He came to Ramshackle during break to ask…” I hesitate, not even sure how exactly put it into words. “To ask an odd question and I kind of just…ran away.”

Sebek leans forward. “You ran away while my liege spoke to you?!”

Fingers fidget against one another. “I should’ve handled it better and I’m afraid I hurt his feelings, so I was just hoping to find him and maybe explain myself.” Shoulders droop with a sigh. “But I’m not even sure how to do that. Not that it matters if I can’t even find him. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t wanna see me.”

Silver tilts his head. “You said he asked you an odd question. What do you mean by odd?”

I take a second to mull over my words. “He showed me some sort of crystal and said he wanted to extend my lifespan…”

Suddenly, Lilia snorts into his drink, spilling tea everywhere and descending into a coughing fit.

Silver’s jaw drops as he sits straight. “He offered that to you?!”

“HOW DARE YOU!” Sebek roars, standing so quickly he topples his chair.

Sebek goes ignored for another usual outburst, but Silver and Lilia’s reactions do not bring any sort of comfort.

“I figured it was uncommon, but is it that unusual?” I ask, hoping for a response denying the question.

They way Silver looks at me causes my every muscle to tense—like I’ve been condemned.

“It’s illegal.”

Surely, he’s joking. There’s no way Malleus would do something unlawful, let alone for me.

Right?

This time, ignoring Sebek is no option as he snags my jacket, tearing me from my seat and rattling me as he shouts. “YOU DARE THINK YOURSELF DESERVING OF MAKING MY LIEGE A CRIMINAL?!”

“Huh?!”

“Sebek, that’s enough.” Dragging a sleeve across his mouth, Lilia, too, stands.

Eyes wide with absolute rage, he continues his rampage. “YOU THINK A MERE HUMAN LIKE YOU IS WORTH ASKING THE GREAT MALLEUS DRACONIA TO BREAK FAE LAW?!”

“Sebek!”

Silver starts for the younger man, but Lilia beats him to it. Hand on my shoulder, he easily separates us with a shove that sends Sebek staggering.

“I said enough.” Though Lilia’s voice remains steady and low, a firm note freezes the air.

Direct target of the command, Sebek shrinks back. At the waist he bends. “M-My apologies, sir.”

I, too, recoil as Lilia turns on me, yet for me the fae holds only empathy.

“First of all, giving extended life to another became illegal when Briar Valley was at war. By placing the death penalty on both the giver and the receiver, the senate hoped to dissuade any who might betray the crown and support the humans.” Though he speaks of illegalities and war, the junior is actually quite soft in speaking to me. “Second, the spell required an exceptionally large supply of magic and the aid of a particular crystal thought to no longer exist. But you saw it, didn’t you.”

My voice nearly fails, words eeking out in a quite whisper. “B-But I don’t want that. I…I can’t.”

Lilia’s brows furrow with pity. “I understand that but…Malleus is one of the last dragons left.”

“Lilia…” Silver’s call is ignored.

Shoulders raised, I back away. “I-I-I can’t do it. I just can’t. Maybe it’s weakness but I can’t take the thought of living longer. Living on while everyone I care about passes on—I can’t stand it. It’s freaking me out. I don’t want to suffer that kind of existence.”

Taking my hands, Lilia squeezes firmly while his eyes beg for my understanding.

“But he has to.”

Feeling as though the curtain has been swept open, I understand now. And it hits harder than all the fear infesting my bones.

Pulling away from Lilia, I head for the door despite Silver calling out to me. With barely any idea where I’m going, my feet carry me through the Diasomnia dorm and straight out the Hall of Mirrors. My eyes search frantically, finding nothing but the rush to Ramshackle continues.

A breath of relief passes my lips as I finally spot the figure strolling the steps towards the rundown dorm.

The man turns just as I approach, barely even budging as I slam straight into him. My guilt grips at his back, shame hiding in his chest.

“I’m so sorry!”

My name falls from his lips in concern.

“I didn’t want to live longer than everyone! I’m afraid of being alone and watching all my friends disappear! I don’t want to lose them!” A shiver wracks my spine, a sting burning in my eyes. “I didn’t realize that’s exactly what you were doing! I’m sorry!”

There’s hesitation, almost bafflement at my outburst. That surprise soon softens and a palm presses to my back in consolation.

“It’s alright,” he says, his voice laced with disappointment. “You don’t—”

“No! It’s not alright!” I’m such a child, crying as I look up at him. “Nobody deserves that! Nobody deserves to be alone!”

Malleus’s eyes widen, but I can feel the tension creeping over him in the way he holds me. It shows even more in his cautious words.

“You don’t have to do this for my sake. I promise I’ll be alright if you don’t.”

My head shakes. It’s not fair. I have a choice—I can back out of this right now and live as a naïve human—but Malleus never had that choice. No matter what he does, he’s meant to bear witness to time and all the tragedies it brings all on his own. His offer was his own attempt at salvation and, like a fool, I didn’t see it. But I do now and, as much as the idea terrifies me, I refuse to let him suffer on his own.

One hand releases its grip on his jacket to smear the tears across my face. “I don’t want you to be alone. I want to be there…if you want me to be.”

For a moment, Malleus simply stares and I consider that perhaps he’s changed his mind. Then his grip tightens and his head bows, leaning against my own.

“Thank you,” he mutters, clinging barely to his composure.

I manage a meager laugh. “I already want to spend all my time with you—surely a ‘few’ more years won’t hurt.”

“And I shall make every one worthwhile.”

“If we’re to be fugitives, I certainly hope so.”

Face filled with apprehension, Malleus leans back. “You knew it would be forbidden yet you still came to accept my offer?”

I let my gaze lower to trace the stripes of his tie. “I guess I just accepted that, one way or another, we’d be in this together.”

He appears briefly dumbfounded. Then, even with a stray tear or two rolling down his face, Malleus begins to laugh.

“You never cease to amaze, Child of Man. And for that, I love you.”

There’s a stutter in my chest as I process what he just said. He too seems to catch what must’ve simply slipped, but not before I lunge again, throwing my arms around his neck in a vice grip that seems all too ineffective against the fae. Even my full weight fazes him less than the embrace itself as he keeps my feet from the ground. For me though, this new vantage point gives me the perfect elevation to press my lips to his.

Tension snares his every muscle, but quickly melts to accept my gesture as though I grant the greatest blessing of all.

Letting the kiss break, I rest my forehead against his, unable to keep the elation at bay.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

#gender neutral reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #novas requests

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theresattrpgforthat · 8 months ago

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TTRPGs for people with dyscalculia?

THEME : Dyscalculia Friendly.

Hello friend, I’m going to first point you to the Math-Lite Chaotic Murder Hobos recommendation post I wrote up a year or two ago.

What I understand about dyscalculia is that in can affect the ability to do mental math, but I'm not sure how much it affects number recognition. I have a few games here that ask you to read the faces on a die, but I don't think any of them expect you to do any addition. I hope you find something fun on this list!

Cats of Catthulu, by Joel Sparks.

CATS OF CATTHULHU is the beloved rules-light roleplaying game in which the players take the part of ordinary cats, secretly defending human civilization from the Chaos Cults of the other animals. All the players have to do is act like cats, while the Cat Herder arranges exciting challenges for them—anything from snacky time to daringly interrupting dire rituals.

In Cats of Catthulhu, the way the story will go is always a mystery. You and your friends play to find out what happens. One person, the Cat Herder, arranges the secrets and situations, and sets the scene, but even they don’t know where the night will end. The players take the role of individual, ordinary cats. All you really need to do is act like a cat.

It might be a bit difficult to get your hands on them, but the original dice for Cats of Catthulhu don’t have any numbers on them; instead, they have sad cats and happy cats. Whenever a cat does something, they roll 2 of these dice. Rolling a Happy Cat is a success; rolling a Sad Cat is a failure. The reasoning behind these dice is: cats can’t do math!

If you can’t get your hands on cat dice, you can use any old d6, and regard 1-2 as Sad Cats and 3-6 as Happy Cats. You’ll also want to get some kind of physical token to use as Treats, which are player currency used to allow free re-rolls. Cats of Catthulhu is great for groups who are mostly getting together to just have a fun time, ready to act silly and get into all kinds of shenanigans.

DUSK, by Gila RPGs.

Equipped with the latest suntech, you are tasked with venturing out into the Dusk, and helping bring a new dawn to humanity. The Dusk does not want you there.

Good luck.

In DUSK, you play as Shards, survivors on the planet Obron after the devastating nova-event that saw your world destroyed. Now you wield powerful technology fueled by pieces of your dead sun, in hopes of surviving another day. DUSK uses the LUMEN 2.0 system, and is a diceless RPG focused on resource management rather than luck or chance.

As a diceless game, DUSK feels a lot different from a number of other diceless games, and I think that’s because of the style of game it’s working off of. LUMEN games are more about strategy than they are about narrative, and in DUSK that’s carried forward in the form of Suntech, items that require energy to power and provide specific advantages.

DUSK is still a relatively new game, but the designer is prolific in the amount of quality work he’s released in the past - and so when he says that there’s more to come, you best believe there’s more to come. If you’d still like to roll dice but you like the idea of the setting in this game, you might want to check out NOVA, which also uses the LUMEN system but gives you dice to roll or LUNA, a game about cultists trying to destroy the moon. Both of these games use pools of d6’s and ask you to look for the highest number, so I don’t think there’s that much math involved.

CASE & SOUL, by Briar Sovereign.

CASE&SOUL is a lightweight tabletop game for telling action-packed stories in the mecha genre. CASE&SOUL is designed for one-shots and short to mid length campaigns. Speed through a lightweight downtime; hire freelancers to pad out your Crew’s skills on missions. Customize your playbooks with SOUL moves, and enjoy a cut-down FITD gameplay with just the essentials for fast and flexible sessions.

Forged in the Dark games use a dice pool, rather than abilities with modifiers. You add dice from various places on your worksheet, and try to roll at least one 4 or higher. Rolling a 4 or 5 is usually a mixed success, and rolling a 6 is a complete success. Personally, I’m a big fan of games that use dice pools, as I’m also not a fan of trying to add up all of those numbers, and having to just look for the single highest dice helps speed up action resolution.

At the same time, Forged in the Dark games can have a lot of moving pieces at once, especially if the GM wants to track a large number of factions, or players want to plan multiple-stage missions. CASE & SOUL advertises itself as a slimmed-down version of these kinds of games, but I can’t tell whether or not that is the case when I look at the character sheets. What intrigues me is the CASE and SOUL tracks; I think your CASE is your Mech, and it receives Harm differently than your SOUL, which is an interesting way to measure how much your mech is (or is not) part of you.

Keyforge: Secrets of the Crucible, by Edge Studio.

In the center of the universe hangs the Crucible, a gigantic artificial world created by the enigmatic Architects and home to countless beings and cultures. Here, impossibly advanced technologies mix with arcane powers to make for a setting unlike any other! Uncovering the secrets of this mysterious world will take all your skills—but the potential rewards are boundless…

Explore this world of boundless opportunity in Secrets of the Crucible, a new sourcebook for the Genesys Roleplaying System set in the KeyForge universe!

You’ll need the Genesys Rulebook for this one, because the main reason I’m recommending Secrets of the Crucible is because of the dice system. Genesys dice don’t use numbers; they use symbols that represent success and failure - and they also have symbols that deepen the nuance of each roll. You can roll advantages or disadvantages that calibrate exactly how much you succeed, as well as triumphs or despairs that give you the same kind of highs and lows as a Nat 20 or a Nat 1 in D&D. This means that each roll tells you so much more about what’s going on around you than just whether you open a door or sweet-talk a guard.

As for the setting, Keyforge is originally a card game published by Fantasy Flight games, about a world called the Crucible, full of secrets that various factions are competing to unlock. It reminds me of the worlds of Magic: the Gathering or League of Legends, with various settings that look very distinct from each-other, and represent different styles of play.

SHIVER, by Parable Games.

WHAT IS SHIVER?

SHIVER is a tabletop roleplaying game that lets players bring their favourite scary movies, spooky tv shows, and horror stories to life. Ever wanted to play through the plot of your favourite film on the tabletop? Or wanted to make sequels, prequels and original stories in the worlds of pop culture you love? SHIVER lets you play that!

SHIVER is setting neutral allowing you to play any story, anytime, and as anyone. Want to play a game of teens in survival mode against a zombie horde? Kids on Bikes who dread exploring a haunted house on Halloween night? Or perhaps a medieval monster hunter looking for a werewolf, vampire or mage? SHIVER can deliver stories and characters for anything from cult pulp classic to Cthulhu fuelled eldritch mystery.

The designer of SHIVER set out with the goal of making games easier for his friends, who had similar struggles with games that had too much math involved. Players roll six-sided and eight-sided dice with various symbols on them, looking for the symbol that represents their character's strengths. The more difficult the task is, the more of the required symbol you need. The game itself is recognized as a class-act horror game, good for everything from pulp-action to gothic fiction to slasher horror. If you don't have the special dice, you can substitute with d6's & d8's, or you can use the free Dice Roller designed for this game.

Tournament Arc, by Biscuit Fund Games.

Are you looking to experience the triumphs and defeats of Space Hyper-Basketball? Need to feel the epic highs and dizzying lows of card games in the post-apocalypse? Want to face the trials and tribulations of the cheese-rolling World Circuit?

Tournament Arc is your very own collaborative sports anime experience, made in the diceless Belonging Outside Belonging engine popularized by games like Dream Askew and Wanderhome. In every thrilling episode, you’ll play the part of the Team as they negotiate the complexities of their daily lives, explore a collaboratively created world, and, most importantly, play the Game.

Tournament Arc is both diceless and GM-less, and is designed to tell stories about teambuilding and competitive sports, although the setting appears to be pretty flexible. The Belonging Outside Belonging game system provides each character type with prompts, and sorts those prompts into different categories. Usually there will be some things you can always do that generate tokens as well as narrative obstacles, and then other things that you can only do when you spend tokens - and as a result, also help characters confront those narrative obstacles. If you have players that like having something tactile to keep in their hands as they play, you might like Tournament Arc.

Warehouse Bitches, by Darling Demon Games.

The Time Worm arrived as it was prophesied just as the crown fell upon his head, and all potentials collapsed into a single haunted citadel, which you call Hex City. You are transgender punks and goths from earth, and in this place your powerful hearts make you witches, daemons, beast-people and arcane architects. We bide our time, smoking and drinking, playing video games and eyeing the crumbling walls of our enemy, The Lord of Olympus.

In Warehouse Bitches, you play as one of the titular warehouse-dwelling trans folk in the hellish Hex City. In this GMless Belonging Outside Belonging game with a unique coin-flip mechanic, you'll wield magic, build allies across the city and fight back against the bastards in subtle ways.

I’ve already explained a bit about how Belonging Outside Belonging works, but Warehouse Bitches adds another layer by using coins as tokens. Using coins, your options are different depending on whether or not the coin is on Heads or Tails. The moves on your character sheet are not just differentiated between Strong and Vulnerable, they’re also differentiated between Heads or Tails, and you must have matching sides of the coins showing in order to be able to use those moves. Characters also have Magic moves, which require the player to flip every coin they currently hold, and reassign those coins based on whatever side they land on.

Warehouse Bitches has only 4 playbooks as it stands now, so a group of 4 players is probably the largest group that can play the book as it stands now. The game is GM-less, but looking at the rules, I think it would be possible to have someone pick up the GM role in order to introduce complications and narrate the actions of various other factions in town. Similar to other BoB games, there are zones that have various elements and details that need to be decided as you play, which will also help provide events and interesting features that keep the game fresh and exciting.

#indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #tabletop games #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #math-light #math-lite

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violetasteracademic · 7 months ago

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A ray of hope there still may be in this, the gift I give to thee...

My darlings, have hope. SJM had been letting us know where this is headed for many years, and she continues to speak to those who understand what to listen for.

I have already made a post sharing the meaning of The Glass Coffin ballet Bryce played for Nesta and Azriel in the bonus chapter, which is Sleeping Beauty.

Let me repeat that again: in the bonus chapter where Azriel is asked if he has a mate (or spouse, or partner), the bonus chapter where he looks down at Truth-Teller, thinking of Elain when describing how the King of Hybern was killed, the bonus chapter where he listens particularly close to Nesta describing if she now finally prefers being Fae to human.... Bryce played Sleeping Beauty for them.

Now, the Elriel being a Sleeping Beauty retelling has been theorized for YEARS.

I will link some of these below, but I want to touch some of my favorite ideas and easter eggs.

Many have pointed out the significance of Briar, the human woman Azriel and Elain carried back from Hybern after Azriel rescued Elain as a Sleeping Beauty clue. Briar Rose is the Alias that Princess Aurora lives by under the protection of the three good fairies.

The fairies are:

Flora (flowers) in possession of the Sword of Truth

Fauna (fawn) who gives the gift of song

Merriweather (the blue fairy) who attempts to give the gift of happiness, but is cut short by a spell

It's actually kind of insane when you start to look at all of these details. Flowers, fawn's, and happiness from the blue fairy being interrupted by a curse or a spell. Something only true love can break.

I agree with the take (which I originally saw on @elriell post found here) that Sarah might invert the Sleeping Beauty retelling for Elriel. Azriel has a few building blocks to indicate he is at a high risk. Koschei is specifically trying to get his hands on Azriel, stating he planned for him for months, and he is in close proximity to the priestesses, some of whom at this moment have the ability to lure and lull. Whether it's G/wyn and her theorized lightsinger and/or siren abilities, the sermon's Clotho suddenly discovered one day amongst random books shelved below Level Seven:

Or Merril, the descendant of the Lord of the Western Wind who considers G/wyn a lackey to be dismissed (while Koschei plants words in courts through whispers on the wind)

There is no doubt in my mind that as Rhys was captured by Hybern and Cassian was captured by Briallyn and the crown, Elain will step into her power to save Azriel from whatever it is Koschei needs him for.

The Sleeping Beauty theory moved beyond theory in HOFAS, in my opinion. I'm not saying Sarah dropped The Glass Coffin specifically for Elriel's, as we all know SJM doesn't have social media on her phone and she tends to keep away from too many fan theories. What I am saying is Elriel's have long picked up on the Sleeping Beauty threads Sarah has been dropping for years, and SJM has done nothing but continue to build on that narrative.

In this year of 2024, in Sarah's most recently published book, after years of speculation:

Azriel confirmed something was indeed wrong with the Cauldron.

Azriel literally listened to a Sleeping Beauty symphony.

Briar Rose, flowers and fawns and the Sword of Truth, sleeping spells which can only be broken by true love, the inside of Elain's mind being described as a sleeping garden.

It's honestly overwhelming.

Hope.

https://elriell.tumblr.com/post/644019925155037184/why-elriel-is-most-definitely-a-sleeping-beauty

https://www.reddit.com/r/acotar/comments/110lyda/sleeping_beauty_retelling_potential_spoilers/

https://www.reddit.com/r/acotar/comments/luk8b7/eighth_court_theory/

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #azriel and elain #elriel sleeping beauty

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h2llish · 5 months ago

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⁀➷ ˖ may i interrupt?

notes ─── another fic for @cloudcountry 's event! rollo deserves it <3 perhaps this can be connected to my other fic but let's not worry about that.

ROLLO FLAMME ─── you'll always be there to drag him away from a dance he doesn't want.

warnings ♡ fluff, angst? takes place during the event, alludes to romantic, gender neutral, lowercase intended, reader is not mc, playful teasing

there's a certain tenseness to the way rollo glided along the floor, hands gripped by the heir of briar valley, as he led the student council president in a dance. perhaps it was only you who noticed (it was), the only one to eye the furrow of rollo's brow and the frown on his lips. you wondered what they were talking about to make him look so distressed.

perhaps you knew ─ after all it was only so many hours after the incident that spread across noble bell and the city. where flowers that resembled that of fire traveled across the ground and climbed up the arms of everyone around you. you were no different, falling unconscious as you could feel your power wither under the touch of the flowers. you remember it because you were far too focused on getting everyone else out of the dorms ─ of course you didn't succeed. but everything ended well, nonetheless.

you remember immediately going in search of rollo, hardly caring as the fatigue of your magic returning weighed at you. you were too worried about him to care about yourself, pushing past people who began to wake from the incident, and rushing out to the tower where you heard someone say he was. ─ he was okay, by the looks of it, tired and drained but nonetheless okay.

the students of night raven college who were with him said he helped stop the flowers ─ that he rushed to ring the bell after he realized what the flowers were. but you knew better, you knew rollo. and your gut told you they were lying ─ that whatever happened, was not the events they were telling you.

but you chose not to investigate ─ whether that was because you knew you wouldn't like what you would find out, or because you know that you wouldn't be surprised. but you do know that whatever it was, you don't think you'd do anything to make sure the real truth got out. rollo meant too much to you, you had been there for all his troubles and grief, and you wouldn't do anything to risk your friendship with him. even if that meant taking a lie to your face and living without knowing what actually happened (even if you had your suspicions).

"[name]?"

you paused, turning your attention away from the pair to look back at your peers and the students of night raven college. you'd stopped paying attention to the conversation they were having, your attention only on rollo and how uncomfortable he so obviously was dancing with the fae prince. you followed him across the floor with your stare, the background voices of those around you fading out the longer you watched.

you'd always followed him, sharpening your magical abilities to follow him to noble bell college with the intention of being at his side. you'd joined the student council so that you were always near, so that if he ever called for you, you'd be there. you were there when he struggled to grieve after the loss, and when he stayed awake into the late hours, sitting quietly in the council room and watching the flames dance in the fireplace. you were always right there.

─ except for right now, and you hated it.

"are you alright?" they had asked, and you had half a mind to ignore them and leave. but they were your peers, a part of the student council as much as you were, and you knew rollo always strove to perform a certain amount of control that not everyone had. perhaps he had too much of an effect on you, or perhaps it was just you doing everything to stay at his side, to always be there ─ as you too tried to keep that professionalism noble bell was said to be known for.

"i'm sorry," you smiled, polite as you bowed your head and chose to ignore their questions. "but i have something i need to do. excuse me."

perhaps a part of you simply didn't care for keeping a good look past excusing yourself, as you hardly gave anyone the chance to reply to your words before you were turning away and walking off. you didn't care for the people who littered the floor in pairs, waltzing to the music that filled your ears. you hardly batted an eye their way as your attention remained on the heir and council president. you managed to maneuver the pairs with a certain ease in your steps despite urgency that you hardly masked. (you didn't think malleus was a terrible individual, but you refused to leave rollo in a situation he didn't enjoy any longer. you'd promised yourself to always be there, after all.)

you made sure to announce your presence the moment you were within distance for them to hear, clearing your throat and putting on a smile that you'd long since mastered (polite, you told yourself, you had to remain polite). "i apologize," ─ a lie, and perhaps the fae knew that too, ─ "may i interrupt? you've taken up so much time of our student president, and i must admit, i'm jealous."

their gliding had come to a stop upon your arrival, and rollo pulled away from malleus as the heir turned you, and smiled, polite, and much more genuine than your own. he bowed, and you returned it as rollo moved to stand beside you, (perhaps relieved to finally stop dancing with him).

"of course," and he looked at rollo. you felt your curiosity pull at you as you glanced between them ─ and you asked yourself what could cause such a tenseness between them that held a certain (one-sided) disdain in the air. you knew rollo held contempt towards magic and mages, but this seemed different, like an event that carried on since the start of night raven's arrival.

"thank you for the dance, flamme." and then he looked back at you, "he's all yours."

"thank you," your smile remained, and you held out a hand towards rollo, turning your head just enough to keep your attention on him but watch as malleus turned away to leave, to return to his peers. "shall we dance, rollo?"

perhaps it was because it was you, rollo didn't protest, taking your hand with a polite nod, yet a glare remained burning into the back of malleus's head, practically seething. his disdain was so uncontrolled, so unlike rollo and the persona of a respectable man he'd built up since the two of you were twelve.

"if you keep glaring, your face will get stuck." a tease, just so his attention was on you (as much as yours was always on him). so he'd step away from the distaste of the dance he shared with the heir of briar valley. so that he'd release the way he held your shoulder in a grip that wrinkled your clothing.

it worked (of course it did, you know how to get his attention, you've had years before this to try), and his glare turned to you, yet the red behind it lacked in heat, and he relaxed his hand laced with yours and his nails no longer dug into your shoulder, threatening to rip the specially designed uniform. "i will not."

you grinned, and your nose wrinkled, "you're right, you face is already stuck like that." he scoffed, and you chuckled, pulling him along further into the crowd as you led him in a dance, just like malleus had done before you.

"you should thank me, you know," you said, leaning closer to him as you spoke, eyes squinting teasingly at him, ignoring the pairs of those dancing around you. "it's not every day i ask someone to dance with me."

"i suppose i'm lucky then," it was sarcastic, but he was returning your teasing in turn; just like he's always done, even if making conversation was the last thing he wanted to do (maybe because it was you, he didn't seem to mind).

"oh, most certainly." you snickered and rollo's ever present mask slipped just for a moment to roll his eyes at you, much to use to your antics you've always been known for, teasing and playful, just like when you were kids. (perhaps he thinks you were the only who hadn't changed after the incident ─ but if he thinks that, then he obviously didn't notice how much your life had begun to center around him. he wasn't the only one who lost someone that day. you too, loved his brother ─ your friend.)

you don't know how long you'd been dancing (because admittedly, you weren't entirely lying when you said you were jealous malleus had taken up so much of rollo's attention.) but he had long since relaxed, no longer tense as he had been when dancing with malleus. perhaps he was relieved, and maybe even knew your true reason in interrupting them ─ knowing you were there to save him from anymore interaction with someone he so loathed.

you pulled him with you as you leaned back, and smiled, proud, "i expect to be repaid for my generosity in pastries by the way."

"i owe you now?" he clicked his tongue.

"of course, my presence is a reward in itself, you should be thankful i'm only asking for pastries for allowing you this dance." ─ you were kidding, of course you were, he knew that. but it didn't matter how many times you would poke and tease, telling him to buy you pastries for everything you did (your sweet tooth was something that hadn't changed about you), because he always did. even when you simply just joined him for his errands after school to fetch his favorite stationary; perhaps it was his way of thinking you for staying, for being there when no one else would.

he sighed, although it lacked any real annoyance, you could tell, "shall we stop by your favorite bakery tomorrow then?" ─ and your heart fluttered knowing he remembered such a detail; yet you ignored it.

"lovely idea, my dear rollo!" you giggled, and he rolled his eyes again.

─ yes, this was much better than what he went through with his previous dance partner.

and hopefully he knows, you'd always be there to save him from a dance he doesn't want.

reader is the knight in shining armor rollo everyone needs

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

#the chimes of comfort #shrimpnetwrk #x gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gender neutral reader #twst x gender neutral reader #rollo flamme #rollo flamme x reader #rollo flamme x gender neutral reader #glorious masquerade

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acourtofthought · 3 months ago

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hi, so.. i'm genuinely curious. why do you ship gwyn and azriel? because for me, i don't think gwyn has shown any romantic interest in azriel, and even he himself thinks they're not close enough to be friends. do you think sjm is going to throw all of elriel's moments away in previous books just for a ship built off of a spark in the chest and a private dagger lesson which happened off page?

because if she does, i think it will be fan service. major fan service.

thank you.

You say all the E/riel moments but if you really care about what I have to say (as you felt the need to message me) I hope you'll actually pay attention to the things I'm telling you.

It's not all the E/riel moments. It's all the E/riel moments that were almost instantly followed up by Az's fixation on someone else or lack of true interest on his part.

Az figured out Elain was a Seer? He then went on and agreed that they shouldn't bother following through on her visions.

Az announced he'd get Elain back only after Cassian first said they'd get her back? He went on to disobey Feyre's orders to get Elain to safety so he could stay behind and save Feyre, risking Elain's life in the process. He also said he'd be the one who could also take Briar though it was Elain who helped save her, something Az never acknowledged. Just like he never acknowledged her saving him too when kicking the hounds and Cassian, Nesta when she stabbed the king.

Az gave Elain TT? That's because Mor begged him to sit out of battle. He sat out of the one thing he's known for, being the first to throw himself into danger, because the female he in canon loved at the time had tears in her eyes and asked him not to enter the fight. Also, he didn't bother to check on Elain after the war or provide his condolences for the loss of her father.

Az was so sweet taking the potatoes from Elain's hand? Only a few chapters before he was relieved not to have to get her a gift to help her celebrate her first Solstice after being turned fae and he went on to stare at Mor with heat and yearning while Elain sat in the room with them.

He stared at Elain's headache powder for a year while he imagined what she'd look like during sex? He was pissy towards Helion because of Helion's question on where Mor was. He interrupted Nesta's question to Feyre on whether Elain knew about the pregnancy to ask if Mor knew. And because he STILL looks at Mor with longing glances. "Few and Far between" doesn't equal Zero. It means they still exist though to a much lesser degree......all while he's supposed to be so captivated by Elain. He didn't bother asking Elain how she was doing after her fights with Nesta, didn't bother saying he'd help her train her powers. You know, important things when it comes to endgame couples.

Not to mention Az wasn't remotely affected by Elain's catatonic state, where she was withering away. Lucien was DEVASTATED. Az drew straws so he didn't have to stay behind and guard her. THAT'S supposed to be who I want for Elain? The IC was not allowed to enter the Rite otherwise it would guarantee death to them all. Nothing prevented Az from staying with Elain to guard her.

Did you read the TOG series? Did you see how many moments existed between Dorian and Celeana? Beautiful moments too. Did you see what transpired between Celaena and Chaol? She literally tells Chaol that she'd always choose him, she says that he is her home.

Tell me how anything that happened between Az and Elain is any more poetic than what we witnessed between Celaena and Chaol yet Sarah had no problems chucking that out the window.

How about the buildup between Nesryn and Chaol? Sarah had her travel with him to the Torres Cesme, she was willing to accept him with his disability yet Sarah knocked down that house of cards in Tower of Dawn.

Dorian and Sorscha?

Feyre was engaged to Tamlin for gods sakes.

I truly don't understand how you think buildup means anything in Sarah's books. Unless two characters are mates, Sarah will easily tear down whatever buildup once existed between two non mates.

Theia and Fionn were forbidden lovers yet she went on to stand by impassioned as he was murdered only to later be willing to give up everything for Aidas, her mate.

And though you'll refuse to see it, I think Sarah already ended them on Solstice. Az and Elain were doomed from the start and there has now been 7 months that have passed from Solstice until the events of HOFAS. We are given absolutely no buildup for the E/riel ship in all that time, not since Elain returned his necklace. There has been no on page bantering between them, no longing glances, not even an indiscernible peak out of the corner of their eyes at one another.

"All the E/riel buildup" except it's already gone? E/riels entire buildup amounted to an almost kiss that never happened in a bonus chapter which makes it pretty easy for Sarah to move on from considering she tore down Feyre's engagement to Tamlin within the span of a few chapters. And Feyre and Tamlin had an entire book dedicated to them.

You can ship E/riel still, of course, but you can't honestly act like it would be difficult for an author like SJM to walk away from whatever they had going since she had no issues breaking apart multiple other characters who shared so much more.

Serious question for you.

How many books do you read where at the very start of the novel, the two characters instantly want one another?

Did Claire want Jamie at the start of Outlander? Pretty sure she was married to and in love with her husband. She also tried to escape back to said husband after marrying and sleeping with Jamie.

I just read a book where the guy ends up helping a girl who was homeless and she's worried that he'll expect sexual favors from her as she's seen happen on the streets and he says and thinks "she's not remotely my type" though of course they end up together and she's the most beautiful thing ever.

Off the top of your head I'm guessing you can't tell me 5 books where the endgame couple starts the book already in love or romantically interested in one another. So why would Az and Gwyn not being true friends yet be a problem at all?

As far as Gwyn's interest or lack thereof, I don't even need the bonus but if after 2 years and knowing what Elain did during the war he still doesn't think she's capable of handling the darkness of the trove but after a few months he believes in Gwyn's ability to make it through the Rite, it's pretty obvious who the author is setting up as his love interest. Sarah's writing and preferred behavior for her MMC with his endgame person is not difficult to spot at this point.

While we don't currently have confirmation of physical attraction (something that could easily change with a simple change of pov), we do have confirmation of curiousity on Gwyn's part. And a lot of admiration on Az's side.

How is that not a wonderful jumping off point for these two characters? Az is no stranger to lust for beautiful females but he doesn't often give them credit for standing on their own two feet. And Gwyn's curiousity about Az, a male, after what happened to her, is a huge step forward already.

Gwyn started SF not having left the library in 2 years but by the end she was fine being alone with Az on the top of the roof in the middle of the night. She was teasing him over his title, "Shadowsinger."

I'm not sure how you don't see that as being playful / flirtatious. Does that mean she's in love with Az and wants to jump his bones? No, it's just the first hints we're seeing. I'd rather only see hints of something before two characters are ready to bang one out on page before they've even had a POV and shared any sort of meaningful conversation (which Az and Elain have never done, they have never spoken about anything of true importance). That's the difference between a romance book with sex and a book with smut.

As for Az, I'd much rather wait for his romance to build on page, where he's only focused on one female, rather than the shit-show that has been the Mor / Elain situation. Where he can't even admit to his best friend that he's over Mor in the same chapter he thinks how he's not thought of a plan on how to be with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies.

Elain deserves a hell of a lot better than that. And so does Gwyn. Which is why I'm glad Az isn't romantically interested in her at this point in time. Have you ever liked a guy who was panting over you and another girl? It's really not the romance E/riels like to pretend it is and I'd rather Az truly come to terms with his past with Mor and letting her go (something that he has not fully done) before he shows any romantic interest for his endgame person. But with Gwynriel I see that future potential. The banter already exists, she's a bit bloodthirsty like Az, she's seen him slaughter which means she's seen a little what Az is capable of versus how he's behaved around Elain, and his shadows are happy around her (which is better than how Az notes they tend to vanish around Elain after telling us how they're his companions). Not to mention Az won't suffer being around someone who already has a mate and will forever have that mate.

Crying fanservice because you don't get your way rather than paying attention to the author you're reading is a copout and I hope you respect Sarah's writing more than that.

#anti e/riel #gwynriel

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