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thecharacterchronicler · 6 months ago

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Perform || Coriolanus Snow x Reader || Smut

Outline: You get married to Coriolanus Snow, a powerful man that you don’t even know, and try to adjust to your new life as his wife.

Word count: 3’500

Warnings: Arranged marriage, explicit smut and probably a few mistakes here and there because English isn’t my first language.

Author’s note: This may or may not be a prequel to There Will Come A Ruler. I’m not sure it fits all the details as it wasn’t planned but inspiration suddenly struck me so here it is.

The room went dead silent as soon as you passed the threshold, numerous pairs of eyes turning to stare at you. There wasn’t a single familiar face among the men standing around the large desk, previously hunched over a pile of papers. You knew that they would never be able to tell how intimidated you felt under their severe gazes, you knew how to fake confidence better than anyone… However, two pale blue eyes seemed to be staring right into your soul, as if he knew.

“Great timing, we just finalized the contract.” One of the older man in a suit said, seemingly wanting to break the cold silence that weighted heavily on your shoulders. You nodded without a word, approaching the desk, coming to a stop next to the youngest man, the one with the unsettling eyes.

You turned your head to look at him more closely and his eyes darted away instantly, landing on a distant object at the opposite side of the office. He stood straight, his head held high and his arms crossed behind his back, impassible.

When you entered the room, he seemed to be radiating with light in the darkness of the office, surrounded by men in boring black suits while his was made out of an immaculate white fabric. Combined with the paleness of his skin and his carefully combed back blond curls, he resembled the image of an angel you had seen on a very ancient painting once. But his indifference towards you, and the icy stare he gave you, made it clear that you wouldn’t find solace in him.

“I reviewed the contract at your family’s request and made sure everything is in your best interest.” The man who had spoken to you already said again, handing you the very last page of the pile of documents on the table and an elegant pen to sign it with.

You didn’t doubt that the lawyer your family had hired was competent and probably too scared by them to dare make a mistake while establishing a contract in your name with an army of other lawyers in the room but you still felt compelled to take a look at the full file in front of you, ignoring the pen he was still holding for you to take.

Maybe it was a desperate attempt to gain time on your part more than a necessity to double check the terms and conditions of the agreement you were meant to sign but, as you glanced towards the man in white, you were pretty sure you saw the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, although he was still determined to not look at you directly.

Some clauses written on the paper seemed reasonable, others were more restrictive and some downright affected your freedom and free will but you knew you wouldn’t be able to negotiate anything better. You wouldn’t dare try anyway, everyone had been telling you what a privilege it was for you and what an honor it was for your family to be offered such an opportunity. Even in the high society of the Capitol, it didn’t happen often for a girl who had just graduated from the Academy to secure such an interesting match. It was even more rare that such a match didn’t require to be seduced in order to arrange a marriage...

“Everything seems in order.” You finally said, after taking your time to read each paragraph of the contract, ignoring the lawyers’ growing frustration and impatience around you.

“I can attest that it is.” The one lawyer meant to be on your side confirmed and, even if you felt the urge to tell him that he could have done better - or at least come to an agreement that wouldn’t force you to produce heirs in a few years - you quietly nodded, taking the pen he was offering you and writing your name at the bottom of the last page.

You paused for a moment, admiring your handwriting in black ink, a small gesture that sealed your future.

It was a privilege. An honor. One that you couldn’t refuse.

You took a step back and turned to the man in white, handing him the pen. He took it without looking at you, hunching his tall frame over the desk to sign his name next to yours in elegant calligraphied letters.

Coriolanus Snow.

You managed to take a deep but silent breath, the implications of the contract you had both signed downing on you. Your life was about to change forever, you’d have to leave your home, your family, everything and start a whole new life, with a man you didn’t even know. He was a complete stranger to you, all you knew about him was that he was the youngest head game maker for the Hunger Games in history, the protégé of Doctor Gaul herself and that, as if it wasn’t enough already, he had announced that he’d be campaigning to become the next president of Panem.

“Well, I hope you’ll be satisfied with the agreement, Mrs Snow.” Your lawyer said, but you didn’t realize right away that you were the one he was addressing, your new last name sounding foreign.

You forced a smile at him, watching as all the men slowly walked out of the office, leaving you on your own with your new husband. A shiver ran down your spine as the door closed behind them, a cold breeze caressing your skin. Coriolanus finally turned to face you, his icy eyes staring into your soul once again.

“I’ll meet you at the altar in three days.” He declared, emotionless. You quietly nodded, too intimidated to say a word. You knew that - much like the official documents you had signed already making you his wife - your wedding ceremony would be nothing like you envisioned it to be.

Time flew by after that. You had spent it feeling mostly overwhelmed by the amount of things you were expected to do before the ceremony. You had to pack your belongings, decide what you’d take with you to your husband’s manor and what could be left behind, attend various appointments meant to get you to beauty base zero before your very public wedding and - even if you didn’t have a say in the preparations - you still had to make sure everything would look flawless on the big day, including yourself.

Your family’s chauffeur drove you to the venue early in the morning where a team of people were ready to take care of your hair, nails and makeup and would help you get into the gorgeous white dress that was selected for you by your new husband and his own team. You watched as your reflection kept changing in the mirror in front of you, making you look like a glamorous bride… The only thing missing to such a perfect portrait was a genuine glint of happiness in your eyes.

Once you were ready to face the crowd of onlookers, news reporters and photographers posted outside the venue - hoping to catch a glimpse of the newlyweds on their way out after the ceremony - the people who had prepared you left, leaving you on your own in the luxurious suit, barely recognizing the person facing you in the mirror.

The short hour before the ceremony felt like agony, your hands shaking in fear of not being good enough to live up to everyone’s expectations and your chest constricted with anxiety. You couldn’t help but wonder what people would think of you when they’ll see you in your bridal attire. Would they think you were a good match for a man as important as Coriolanus Snow ? See you as worthy to potentially become the First Lady of Panem ? Would they think you were a cute couple, or see you as an ill match ? And what about him ? Would he find you beautiful when you’ll walk down the aisle to him ?

A firm knock on the door saved you from drowning in your anxious thoughts. You were expecting your family’s lawyer to come by and give you a few advices on how to live your new life without inadvertently breaking some of the terms of the contract you had signed. You also knew the wedding organizer would show up to give you a few pointers for the ceremony and your public appearance after it…

But, when you opened the door, a surprised gasp escaped your lips. Coriolanus was devastingly handsome in a tailored white suit, more fitting and luxurious than the one he wore when you had met him three days earlier. There wasn’t a single strand of his blond hair out of place, not a trace of dark circles under his blue eyes while your team had spent almost an entire hour trying to conceal yours after the sleepless nights you had had.

He smiled at you in a way you weren’t certain was genuine and held up a huge bouquet of white roses, tied together by a blood red satin ribbon. You understood it was yours to walk down the aisle with, the flowers matching the one pinned to the lapel of his jacket.

“Thank you.” You said, as you took the flowers. He was looking at you without any hint of admiration in his gaze, as if the hours your team had spent on your hair and makeup and the expensive wedding gown you were wearing didn’t affect him at all. As if he still couldn’t care less about you… “I’ve heard it’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.”

He huffed a mocking laughter at your words.

“Good thing we’re already legally married then.” He countered, the reminder adding to the panic in the pit of your stomach. “This ceremony is just meant to give them a good show.”

You knew that, of course. It was your duty - as his wife - to publicly appear by his side and pretend that you were overjoyed about it all. You were meant to help him build a flawless reputation so that he may eventually become president one day and you knew that his popularity was determined by how much the people could relate to him, or at least feel included in parts of his life. Soon, you’d be introduced to them as Mrs Snow and you couldn’t afford to mess up.

You turned around to place the beautiful - but surprisingly heavy - bouquet of roses on the vanity, hearing the door closing behind your back. When you looked over your shoulder, he was standing behind you, clearly expecting something from you although you weren’t sure what.

It was the first time you were fully alone with him, in such proximity to each other, and his intimidating posture added to the way his eyes darkened when they met yours made you feel quite weary, as if you were suddenly in some kind of imminent danger.

“Now turn around so I can make sure you’re ready.” He demanded, his voice slightly lower than usual.

You obeyed without a word, slowly spinning around twice as you felt the weight of his analyzing stare on you, making your body tingle with an odd electric sensation. Once you were face to face with him again, you couldn’t tell if he was satisfied or not by the way you looked, his expression serious and unreadable. A heavy silence lingered between you as you desperately hoped to hear a few words of affirmation to boost your confidence a bit… He didn’t say any but he took a step closer, his face closer to yours than what would be deemed acceptable between two strangers. He pushed a strand of hair away from your forehead, his eyes briefly plunging into yours before his hand traveled down to your mouth. He traced your lips with his thumb, fading out your lipstick slightly.

“I hope you paid attention to the wedding night clause on our contract.” He spoke, almost in a whisper. “Because as soon as we’ll be done performing for the crowd, I’m going to make you mine.”

Your body shuddered in response, and you weren’t quite sure if it was because it made you nervous or if because such a promise actually excited you somehow. You didn’t have time to think about it anyway, another knock on the door forcing you apart. The wedding organizer announced that the ceremony was about to start, forcing Coriolanus out of your suite, visibly oblivious to the tension that tainted the atmosphere between you. You took a deep breath to compose yourself, grabbed your bouquet and folllwed them out, ready to perform.

You spent the whole ceremony in a daze, not quite realizing what was happening or what anyone was saying. But you still managed to say the one thing everyone expected of you; I do. You smiled as the crowd erupted in cheers, made sure to keep your eyes open despite the blinding flashing lights of the cameras on you and took the time to greet everyone of importance that was in attendance that day. When your new husband had to kiss you in front of hundred of curious faces staring at both of you, he did it softly and chastely which almost felt a bit disappointing considering the authority and confidence he had spoken with earlier. But it sure was a cute picture for the tabloids.

You returned to the mansion he owned in the most expensive and luxurious area of the Capitol and were showed to your new bedroom by a maid, noting how your belongings had already been unpacked and organized to make you feel at home. It was only after she helped you out of your wedding gown and into a more practical and relaxed dress that you realized that this bedroom was yours and yours only. There wasn’t a single item that looked like it could belong to your new husband, none of his clothes in the dressing room, none of the products he put on his hair to keep them perfectly combed back throughout the day in the bathroom. And, even though this man was still a complete stranger to you, you still felt a hint of disappointment at the realization that he wasn’t planning on spending any of his time with you if none of his potential supporters could witness it.

He still had been thoughtful enough to ask another one of his employees to deliver a black box to your bedroom, an unexpected wedding present. You opened it as soon as you were all alone and your eyes widened in shock, discovering some lingerie made out of the thinnest and softest lace you ever touched. It was a gorgeous set that complimented your skin tone so well, it almost looked like it had been made specifically for you.

You tried the pieces on, surprised to see how each of them fitted you perfectly and comfortably. However, even if you felt pretty good in your new lingerie, you felt too awkward to go find your husband with nothing else on, so you pulled your dress back over the lace, hiding everything from view, before you walked out of your bedroom, determined to find Coriolanus in the huge mansion you now shared with him.

You easily found him downstairs, sitting on a teal sofa in front of a modern chimney. He was reading with his ankle resting on top of his knee. He looked up to you as soon as you stepped into the living room, immediately folding his newspaper to give you his full attention.

“Is your new bedroom at your convenience ?” He asked, politely.

“Absolutely.” You replied, nervously fidgeting with your hands as you stood in front of him. “And thank you for the wedding present.”

“Does it fit you ?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“Take off your clothes then.” He demanded, and you wondered how he managed to sound so intimidating despite sitting down and you, towering over him.

“Here ? Now ?” You exclaimed, looking around for house employees.

“I think I’ve waited long enough.” He declared, unwavering. “So take them off or I will.”

You did as he requested, nervously removing your casual dress so that you stood in nothing but your new lingerie in front of him. His icy gaze roamed your body from head to toe, his expression still too closed off to tell if he liked what he saw or not.

He stood up, bringing his hand to your chest and tracing the outline of the lace over your breast with a finger. Goosebumps rose on your skin in reaction, your heart beating faster so close to where he was touching you.

“Turn.” He commanded and you obeyed, feeling slightly more confident in this perfectly fitting set than you did in your wedding dress. You felt his hands on your body again, tugging the lower part of the ensemble down your thighs agonizingly slowly. Did it mean he didn’t like it ? Or was he simply curious to see what was underneath the thin lace fabric ? “Lie down.”

He gestured to the couch he was sitting on a minute ago. You followed his command, your head resting on a soft satin pillow and your knees pulled back to you to leave him enough room to join you. He sat down, fully removing the piece of underwear around your thighs and you shivered when he pushed your knees apart, once again analyzing your body with a critical gaze.

He leaned forward and you gasped when you felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue between your folds, tracing a few circles around your clit before moving down to your entrance. He sat back straight, an amused grin on his face as he licked his glistening lips and took in the shocked expression on your face.

“I needed to know how my wife tastes.” He explained, your body tingling with excitement. He opened up his trousers, pulling his long and hard erection out. Your eyes widened, taking in his size, which seemed to amuse him yet again. “You can take it.”

He sounded pretty confident about that but you weren’t so sure. You didn’t get the chance to protest though, because he immediately moved to align himself up with your entrance and pushed his tip through it without hesitation.

You gasped at the burning sensation, your fingers tightening around the edges of the couch. A satisfied groan rumbled in his throat as he kept pushing himself in, inch by inch until he was fully buried inside you and you couldn’t remember how to breathe correctly.

It wasn’t as pleasant to you as it seemed to be to him at first, your walls still stretching to accommodate his girth and length while he took advantage of the tighteness ensnaring him to push himself as deeply as he could.

It was too much. Way too much. But, just as you considered asking him to pause, suddenly your body stopped resisting him, welcoming him instead, allowing his cock to slide back and forth in rythym with the way he rolled his hips against you, causing a warm and tingly sensation to bubble up deep in your core.

You looked at him, holding himself above you with his strong arms on each side of the couch, his muscles carved under his pale skin. A blond lock of hair bouncing against his forehead in synch with his movements and his eyes were glued to yours, attentive to how your traits changed each time he modified the pace of his thrusts.

Soon, it felt like too much again, but in a good way. You felt close to imploding from how good it felt to have him hitting inside you at a relentless rythym.

You turned your head to the side, hoping the pillow would help silence your moans, worried that every employee in the mansion might hear the uncontrollable sounds of pleasure that kept resonating inside the living room.

“Look at me.” He immediately ordered, not waiting for you to obey as his hand flew to your face, turning your head so that you’d face him again. His fingers then dropped lower, wrapping around your neck, causing the whimpers escaping from your mouth to sound a lot more desperate. “I want to see what you’ll look like when you’ll come as I’ll fill you up.”

A few more thrusts of his hips, his tip hitting the perfect spot inside of you and you felt your whole body contracting intensely, your core tightening around him as you cried out in pleasure, closing your eyes and your mouth dropping open in shock at the intensity of the wave of sheer bliss that ran through your whole body.

“So beautiful.” He commented, his eyes fixed on you in genuine admiration this time. His labored breaths got louder and he climaxed, his erection throbbing as it spurt out a load of hot cum deep inside you.

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citrus-writing · 3 months ago

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Hello, i think i have a funny idea for some headcanons or drabble(s).

What if darling is yandere too?😈😈

I’d like to read young!Silva’s reaction on this, If you have inspiration, you can write about some other characters

(Sorry for mistakes, eng isn’t my first language. I hope I haven’t said anything rude!! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) )

(I went ahead and added kikyo, illumi, chrollo, and hisoka cause i had some ideas for them!)

This was a fun one to write! I just gave my general thoughts on a couple of the characters with a yandere darling. Silva was also a fun one to choose for this because i headcanon that kikyo is a yandere in canon, so Silva already knows how to handle a yandere wife.

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Yanderes who would be thrilled to have a darling who was also yandere for them, it fuels their obsession with you-

Kikyo- kikyo is a yandere who will never hide her obsession with you, no matter how she chooses to express her love, she always commits to it completely. So when she finds that you, her most beloved darling, feels the same way for her, she’s ecstatic. It’s the single greatest thing to ever happen to her, and it fuels her feelings for you, encouraging her to act more and more boldly.

Chrollo- he’s perfect at keeping his more deranged feelings a secret, so it’s unlikely you would be able to tell how he really feels for you before he kidnaps you. And that makes it even sweeter if you were a yandere for him before he took your away- in fact, maybe he wouldn't even have to. Having a yandere partner perfectly fits into chrollo’s fantasy of a perfect romance with you.

Yanderes who are mostly indifferent, it allows you to live almost like a normal couple, and they’re grateful for that-

Silva- assuming this is either in a universe where silva and kikyo don't get married, or before they meet, silva has never felt for anyone what he feels for you- the affection, but also the overwhelming obsession, and at first he’s wary of that. His feelings aren't normal, and he is lucid enough to know that. But when you start to display a similar intensity in your feelings for him, it furthers his devotion and obsession with you. He’s also the type of yandere to let you get away with a surprising amount of freedom, and that freedom is extended as you prove your devotion to him.

Yanderes who wouldn’t like to have a yandere darling, it takes all the fun out of thing when their darling is too comfortable with their behavior-

Hisoka- hisoka wants you to be afraid of him, he wants you to cower and shake and tremble when he comes too close to you, he wants you to beg him to leave you alone just so he can press closer despite all your attempts to dissuade him. Having a yandere darling throws a wrench in those plans, and while he can adapt, maybe even make you chase him down, he’d much rather be the one chasing you down.

illumi - illumi is completely unaware of how strange and unhealthy his feelings are, he’s convinced he’s completely normal and this is simply what love feels like. However, when you start to show yandere traits, he can recognise that those feelings aren't normal, and will try to curb those habits as they arise. It can be hard for him to accept the full spectrum of his darlings emotions, but it’s possible that if those feelings are love for him he could grow to accept them with time.

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littlemissstel · 3 months ago

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Troublemaker- Shiu Kong

What is Shiu to do when he gets a call from his daughter asking to be picked up? But he thought she was at home...

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You and Shiu loved your kids. You did. However you had never known any others to be quite as monstrous as they were. Everyone said that they would eventually grow out of their mischievous ways, however after your eldest entered her teen years the untamable spirit she retained only grew and you came to believe they were just your karma personified. Your first was sneaky, the second was loud and hyperactive - causing a mess wherever he went- and your third...well you were lucky if she even gave you the time of day, rolling her eyes, she tended to use her face to express more than she did her words and was ever so cunning.

You tried to keep up but the weekends offered no respite as the chaos you normally got to hide from six hours a day continued at an unrelenting pace and left you as nothing but a mindless ghoul at the end of it as you collapsed into your bed.

Shiu would normally be right behind you in doing this, but tonight he managed to exert the last of his energy into tidying the remaining miscellaneous items that littered the dinning table before settling limply on the sofa, eyes closed and head tossed back. The idea was to secretly finish the remaining episode of a series you both binged, however the low rumble of your sons gaming console acted as white noise that tempted him into a deep sleep, the darkness becoming a blanket over him as he sunk further and further into the cloud cushions.

All was well. All was calm.

Was. The sound of his phone ringing pierced through the once so soothing atmosphere and he sprung up, reaching for his phone with such urgency he worried about throwing his back out. He waited a second, eyes adjusting to the brightness before recognising the name on the screen. His eldest daughter. Now was the time to sigh. The most she could want was a glass of water and a pack of sweets and he inwardly teased himself for acting so exaggerated.

"Hi, honey" he says though he was not welcomed with the same greeting. Instead a cacophony of unintelligible sounds blurred in his ear, forcing him to move back in both pain and confusion.

Well that certainly wasn't coming from here. The house was silent, the sound of a pin dropping could count as a disturbance, so what on earth was going on?

"Honey? Are you there?"

"Yeah" her uncharacteristically small voice calls out, and he can't help but notice the way it shakes. Sitting up and leaning forward, elbows on knees he gives her his full attention, acting as if she were sat in front of him.

"What's going on? You're not home are you?"

"No--and I'm so sorry", She breaks fully, "Can you please pick me up? I swear it's not that far a-"

"Send me your location. Are you hurt?"

"No..."

"Okay."

And the line continues without another word spoken. Though Shiu's mind was far from peaceful. The moment she had sent where she was he stepped on the peddle driving an inexcusable amount over the speed limit which was prompted by his sweet girls muffled cries.

The address seemed to be a house, at least she was in a residential area but what was she doing there? Who had she gone to see? Most importantly how did he not notice? A detective all those years and yet he couldn't figure out when his own daughter was in trouble. No, he couldn't figure out why she snuck out. He had tried his very best to give his children the freedom they deserved and he'd much rather know about their mistakes than have them make it alone. It's not like he ever denied them of going out and having fun without rational reasoning and they knew that- so why was he driving to an unknown location at 2 am to pick up his weeping daughter?

Unlike his previous experiences, the adrenaline spike he felt was anything but pleasant and his blood rushed with anxiety. Eventually he neared the location looking around hastily for any sign of his daughter.

"Where are you? Can you see me?"

And suddenly a figure emerged out of the dark from one of the porches, alerting a sensory light to come on where he saw his daughter in a state he would wish to erase. Stepping out of the car meeting her will-less body halfway he engulfed her into his arms, one wrapped securely around her head as he pressed a soft kiss into her hair. He was sure they were hugging for different reasons, him in deep relief that she was safe and hers for reasons unknown but it didn't matter now as she looked up, tearful, mascara smudged eyes meeting his and he felt his heart break once more. Quickly taking off the jumper he wore, he opened it ready for her to put on, she wore a lacey top and a skirt two inches too short - both of which he had never seen before- but perhaps now wasn't the time to bring it up, it was a wonder she didn't catch hypothermia before he arrived in the first place.

"I'm so sorry"

"It's alright" he assures, guiding her to the car, "Let's get home before you freeze."

The night continues with the two of them in the car silently, Shiu driving much slower than before as he cautiously looks at his daughter through the mirror. He wasn't quite sure what to do, if this would be the time were he says something to try and put her at ease, maybe berate her for doing something so careless. He wasn't quite sure he'd be speaking to the same daughter he was used to, never had he been warned about this kind of situation before when people teased him about having such a fiery child but right now it seemed that fire had been extinguished completely and he yearned for the slightest sight of a flame.

"Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?" Shiu repeated inwardly but it wasn't a question. He felt himself slip the moment she was born and now he grovelled in the helplessness as she grew.

He had been relying on muscle memory throughout the car ride as he thoughtlessly pulled into the driveway slowly and lowering the lights so as to not alert anyone inside. Ah...What was he to tell you? He would tell you, of course ,but now? Would you be mad if he waited until the morning, would your girl still be in such a sorry state when she woke up? A thousand more worries came up in Shiu's mind and what could soothe them?

"Thank you, Dad" The girl spoke out cautiously, already looking at him as he turned and he couldn't help but view her ten years younger.

Still at a loss he repeated the same phrase, "It's alright, Love." and gave a squeeze to her hand to which she gave a slight smile.

He sighed.

"I will have to tell your mum..."

The girl looked down and away.

"I know..."

"You know we aren't evil..."

"I know...but can we talk about it in the morning? please?"

"Okay."

And Shiu hoped that somehow, through the exchange and his eyes, she knew that he would always be there for her.

Catch the arcane ref? I'm so happy with how this turned out!!!

Please feel free to leave any recs/ideas x

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #shiu kong #shiu x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk shiu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #shiu kong x reader #dad!shiu #dad!jjk #mum!reader #fanfic #fluff #shiu fluff #imagines #female reader #angst

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ninchen1909 · 2 years ago

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The wrong groom

Pairing: Ivar the boneless x female reader

Word count: ~ 2.500

Hey,

this is the first time I write for a Vikings character. Also English isn‘t my first language, so I apologize in advance for possible mistakes.

I hope you have a great day!

Warnings: mention of killing disabled children, mention of alcohol, kind of arranged marriage but also not

"How can you ask this of me father?" you turn to him angrily, your dress swinging elegantly around your body. All of your father's advisors look at the floor, not daring to say a word. Even the priest, who always follows your father like a faithful, obedient dog, stands before you with his head bowed.

"How can you ask me to marry one of these barbarians, they stand for all that we despise. How in God's holy name can you ask me to marry one of these sinners?"

Your face is flushed red with rage, your hands clenched into tight fists. You have always been different from all the other princesses you have known. You never let anyone tell you to shut up and you always stood up for your convictions. At some point your parents realized that they could never chastise you and made a deal with you to control your temper at least in front of visitors and other nobles.

"You must do it my beloved daughter, for our kingdom, for our freedom and for our people."

Tears well up in your eyes, whether from anger or sadness you can't quite tell yourself. A few days ago, you were simply the princess of one of the smaller kingdoms in England, never attracting the interest of the Northmen until they suddenly and without warning attacked your city. Half of your army have already been killed and it is almost certain that your city could not withstand another attack.

"But why me father, why not Sophie, you've wanted to marry her off for a long time, she's older and wiser than me." Your tone has by now lost its sharpness, desperation winning out over fear.

"Sophie does not have your strength, my child, she would perish in their world, but you can become stronger in it." The look in your father's eyes becomes softer, you even think you can recognize pity in it.

"Do I even have a chance of getting out of this unmarried?" your father shakes his head, a defeated sigh escaping your throat.

"They are already on their way to us, King Ragnar with his sons and some retainers, we will discuss the details at a feast today."

"May I at least know the name of my intended?" you cross your arms stubbornly in front of your chest, a behavior for which other princesses would have experienced great suffering, but your father has to suppress a smirk.

"Prince Sigurd"

A few hours later, the feast is in full swing, together with your sister, your father, and his closest confidants, you sit on a raised table in the back of the Great Hall.

Your appetite has left after a closer observation of the Nordic table manners. Disgusted, your mouth tightens as you see them talking with their mouths full and not seeming to understand the meaning of cutlery at all. The wine flows in streams and soon you realize that they seem to be able to hold more alcohol than the men in your town.

All evening you feel the eyes of one of Ragnar's sons on you, you know from the description your father gave you of your future husband that it is not Sigurd. Crutches are leaning against the wooden bench next to him and his attentive, alert eyes follow your every move. His dark brown hair, like the hair of the other Northmen is worked into beautiful braided hairstyles. Your father seems to be able to interpret your gaze clearly, as unobtrusively as possible, he leans in your direction and whispers to you:

"This is Ivar, he is the youngest son of Ragnar and according to stories also by far the most bloodthirsty and brutal among the brothers. So stay away from him."

A silent nod is your answer, but to your own dismay, your father's words don't repulse you, but rather make the interest in Ivar grow in you. During the whole time, his ice-blue eyes are constantly directed at you, even when you look directly at him, he does not avert his gaze from you, but gives you an arrogant smile, much to your astonishment.

Throughout the evening, your eyes meet again and again, and each time anew goose bumps cover your body, the dangerous aura that surrounds him captivates you, and as if automatically, your hand finds its way to the cross that hangs around your neck, you clasp it tightly with your fist.

The festivity goes on like all the previous ones. Everyone gets drunk and all the noble, God-fearing men, as time passes and alcohol consumption increases, look for a young woman for the night, who in no way resembles their spouse.

With your father's consent, you get up from the table as inconspicuously as you can and leave the hall almost in a hurry. You hold up the skirt of your dress to get ahead faster and so you walk quickly straight towards the stables.

Your entrance is accompanied by the excited neighing and nervous scraping of hooves as you make your way as quietly as possible to the last stall. In it stands your most faithful friend in the kingdom, the only one you don't have to worry about betraying you. Carefully you push the latch aside and enter the box with slow steps. Dark, loyal eyes beam at you as you lovingly bury the flat of your hand on the snow-white fur.

"Greetings, my old friend," you carefully lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, the smell of fresh hay rising to your nostrils, and for the first time this evening, you seem to be able to breathe properly. You tenderly stroke your horse's nostrils as you hear a steady clacking sound in the front of the stable. With a jerk, you turn around, prepared to spot the potential danger and fight back if necessary.

However, you would never have expected to meet the person who is now standing in front of you. You watch as he moves slowly but smoothly toward one of the hay bales and drops onto it, his crutches leaning next to him within reach. Now he looks at you through his thick lashes. The sky-blue of his eyes makes you shiver pleasantly and for a brief moment you think your legs would give out their service and make you fall uncomfortably to the ground. Quickly you try to hide this.

"What are you doing here my prince, shouldn't you be out in the hall getting drunk with the other men and lusting after the women?"

You yourself are taken aback by your direct words, but you don't let this show. Unlike expected, your words do not make him angry, but rather seem to amuse him. For a short time later, a raucous, throaty laugh fills the stables.

"You're different little raven, aren't you? Most of the other princesses I know are obedient and well-behaved, but you carry the fire of Freya in you." An arrogant but also admiring smile spreads on Ivar's face.

"You are also different from most people I know, because most people I know have two functioning legs and can actually walk of their own free will."

no sooner have you said these words than you regret them. You never wanted to be someone who limited others only to physical attributes. His smile begins to stiffen and the playful spark has also disappeared from his eyes.

"I guess you're right about that little raven" you notice him reach for his crutch and tense his upper body to hoist himself up. You hurry to place a hand on his forearm, an apologetic expression coming to your face.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It's just you they don't get many people like you, most of you are..." you dare not finish the sentence, which Ivar takes from you though.

".... Killed or left for dead. I know."

Under your hand you notice how his muscles relax again and Ivar seems to loosen up again. An uncomfortable silence spreads over you, only the scraping of hooves and the flaring of nostrils can be heard around you.

"You said before that I had the fire of Freya in me."

With a nod, Ivar indicates for you to continue talking.

"Who is Freya?"

a slight smile spreads across his face after your question and he leans a little further towards you.

"One of our goddesses, especially in times of war we think of her and make sacrifices to be in her favor."

"So you're comparing me to a goddess who brings death and disaster to people?"

you raise an eyebrow.

"Believe me that is an honor, she is one of our Most Favored Gods, but if it soothes your Christian heart, she is also the Goddess of Marriage and Love."

Slightly you nod to yourself as you soak up this knowledge.

"You said Freya is one of your gods, who else do you make sacrifices for?"

Ivar looks into your face trying to find some form of dishonesty there, however the only thing Ivar can discern there is genuine curiosity.

Eagerly, you listen to his soothing voice as he tells you about the father of the gods, Odin, Thor, Loki, and all the others gods.

After the feast, King Ragnar has decided to stay with his whole troupe until your and Sigurd's wedding, so that you can then sail back with them to their homeland and a new life.

Against all expectations, you spend most of your time with Ivar instead of your future husband. You realize that none of the stories do justice to Ivar's character, at least not when he is with you. Of course, you recognize his gruff, sometimes even sadistic manner when he is with other people. With you, however, he is tender and attentive, always giving you his complete attention and patiently explaining everything you want to know. He tells you stories of his adventures and of what awaits you in your new home.

With each passing day you notice how your feelings for Ivar increase and your interest in Sigurd decreases until it finally ceases to exist, each day your heart yearns more for the man with the crippled legs. Never does he treat you as if you were beneath him. Every day he tells you stories about his travels, his homeland and his gods and to your own amazement he listens attentively to your stories about your god. After only a few days you realize that his mere presence makes you happy, every day you wake up in anticipation of spending your day with him. And he seems to feel the same way. In all this time Sigurd never once seeks your company, nor does he make any effort to get to know you better. Ivar even more so.

Three days before the wedding you can't take it anymore, you have to stand by your feelings or you will be unhappy for the rest of your life.

With quick steps you make your way to the throne room with one hand grasping the skirt of your dress so as not to trip without knocking you push open the heavy wooden door and look into the astonished faces of your father and King Ragnar.

"Daughter, how dare you..."

"Father, please forgive the intrusion, however, I need to talk to you about something that has been depriving me of sleep for several nights now."

At your words, your father's features soften and his voice loses some of its original sharpness.

"Speak then, my daughter."

"I don't want to marry Sigurd, I don't think we're right for each other either..."

Your father interrupts you, before you can finish your sentence.

“You are going to marry one of King Ragnars sons, that’s not something I’m going to debate with you, daughter.”

“Yes father I know and I’m going to marry one of his sons, just not Sigurd..”

Your father sinks back into his chair, your eyes briefly fall on the King of the Northmen, his bright blue eyes patterning you with interest.

"Why don't you want to marry my son Sigurd, he's a good man".

The Northman squints his eyes slightly, eagerly waiting for your answer.

"I do not question that he is a good man, however I have the impression that we would not be good for each other."

"And why do you think that?"

Ragnar rises from his chair and walks toward you with slow steps, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. Nervousness rises in you, but you try to suppress it with all your might.

"And I want to hear the real reason."

"With all due respect King Ragnar, I am not under the impression that Prince Sigurd is interested in finding a wife and starting a family. Besides, I don't think I have the physical attributes your son desires in a partner."

A smile creeps onto his lips, while your father is shocked and enraged by your bluntness.

“Daughter, how dare you to speak to King Rag..”

“Fair enough…”

The Northman interrupts your father without sparing him so much as a glance.

…..which one of my sons do you want to marry princess (y/n)?“

“Prince Ivar, my king”

The shocked gasp of you father fills the thronroom and even king Ragnar seems surprised by your demand.

“I noticed on our first day here, that you weren’t really found of him, so what changed?”

“That’s true, at first I was scared of him, I heard many stories about how brutal and violent he can be and to be honest I don’t doubt that for a second. But as I spend time with him, he showed me, what I believe is the real him. He is soft and caring with me, he lifts up my spirit every time I see him. And he never gave me the feeling like I was inferior to him because of my gender. He is smart and a excellent strategiest, I wasn’t lucky enough to see him fight so far. But from what I heard, he is a outstanding warrior too. And I would be honored to become his wife.”

After your speech you lower your head slightly, not daring to look at your father, a short but intense silence falls over the three of you. It feels like an eternity, until you hear King Ragnars loud an clear voice.

“Then so be it.”

#ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar x reader #vikings ivar #ivar fluff #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x princess reader #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings imagine #vikings x reader

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peachsayshi · 9 days ago

Note

About brutally soft reader x SUKUNA

I love how you write their dynamic with eachother and their daughter, especially the feelings she has towards SUKUNA and the small jealousy she feels just thinking about him and other women.

But I’ve got some thoughts

I understand her seeing the good in him and him being a great father but a great father isn’t always a great partner. He might have cleaned his mess up as far as she knows, we the readers of course know more.

You gave us some look into their past relationship and how toxic they were to eachother.

While people should stay in the present and look towards the future, her past shaped her. Does she trust him fully? Are there other feelings like resentment and anger she sometimes feels towards him, especially as she realizes how her daughter is growing up without two parents in the same house and how it will impact her?

While she loves her daughter, won’t she still have some anger towards him for having to take care of her all the time and work, while he has so much freedom?

Does she feel guilty for still liking him?

Does she have recurring nightmares or flashbacks as soon as she sees or talks about cheating? Does she see his cheating partner sometimes in the city and does she get that gut wrenching feeling.

There are a lot of questions I have regarding her character.

While you show the positive side of their co parenting I would love to see the negative aspects. How it impacted her her future (unexpected pregnancy), other relationships she had(parents, friends…), relationships with other men after sukuna?

How she sees her daughter, does her daughter miss him a lot or does she see a lot of sukuna in her daughter? Does reader still have some kind abandonment issues or trust issues with other people in her life because of the relationship?

Is it maybe the other relationship that seems to be on and off, that makes her yearn for sukuna who is not only her baby daddy but seems to be stable in life?

I hope it does not come off as aggressive or rude but I am really interested to see her have some female rage and anger she will express toward sukuna.

nonnie!! please don't ever apologize!! as a writer I live for these kind of questions!! I am just an awe that you that this fic made you this interested like I am truly beyond flattered. okay, okay let's break it down: "a great father isn't always a great partner" is the basis of what this story is about. regarding your question on trust, I will say that the reader does not trust him - he had to repair that trust himself. and it took him years to do it. the fact that he cheated on her isn't a small thing (to either the reader or sukuna). he lives with that mistake and the reader lives with that hurt. in one of my previous posts about them, I mention how all of this changed when sukuna found out you were pregnant. the thing is, he grew up with shitty parents. he wasn't about to turn into one himself. I don't think she resents him as much. because she truly didn't even think that he would step up to the plate and be an actual father to his child. she only revealed her pregnancy out of moral obligation, but she was clear that she doesn't expect him to be involved. the fact that sukuna is putting in the effort is more of a surprise to the reader herself.

now regarding the freedom thing, I definitely think that's more of a choice on the reader's part. sukuna wants more team, but our reader keeps the boundaries for a reason. let's not forget that she knew and loved sukuna at his worst. saw how irresponsible he could be. saw how selfish some of his actions were. I think a small part of her believes that if she isn't too cautious, he might slip up. that's the reader taking control of a situation that she cannot predict. I don't think she feels guilty for liking sukuna, I think she's scared that those feelings are still there. how could she still want someone who hurt her in that way? how could she think it would be safe to go back to him? that's what I was really trying to portray in the updated part of their little story. without giving away too much of the story, she definitely does bring it up in conversation with sukuna and it's an extremely sore point for both of them. it's the only time she sees how small he looks in her eyes. he carries so much shame with that mistake, with that woman...

oh there definitely will be some insight on the negative aspects - but it will be framed in a way to show sukuna's growth. the point is to highlight his redemption journey, rather than him being a shitty guy. however, that past still exists in both his and the reader's memory. and regarding abandonment and trust issues: they both definitely deal with it in their own way. in this particular case, it's sukuna who gave did it to her. his parents did it him.

I briefly talk about sukuna's childhood, and how compared to his brother yuji he had to witness his parents because a healthy, loving couple towards his younger brother. sukuna never got any of that. and it kills him that the same abandonment and trust issues they gave him, he just off loaded onto you with his own shitty mistakes.

sukuna's daughter is so much like him in so many ways. you can definitely see that but you believe she got the best parts of sukuna rather than the worst. and he only wants to show her the good, not the bad.

I hop this answers some of your questions! I really can't wait to explore more parts of these two - and see how their dynamic unfolds. I think as of now, sukuna simply resigns in his role as being your baby daddy and nothing else. he really wants to show you that you can rely on him, but it just isn't that easy for the reader to give in to him like she used to.

#anon.💌#brutally soft #baby daddy sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader

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mjrtaurus · 4 months ago

Note

Monkey D Urpi headcanons (source: Oda shared it with me in a dream)

- She’s gotta be atleast 6 or 7 feet tall for logistic reasons yes but also because Tall Women ❤️

- Idrk how face claims work but I imagine her to look something like Simone Ashley

- As all other members of the Monkey family do, she’s got a scar on the left side of her face

- A tattoo that wraps around her wrist, almost like a bracelet

- Her and Garp are 2-3 years apart in age (they’re beating the weird age gap grandparents allegations fr)

- Hips length hair. At least 25% of Garp's paycheck gets put into hair care, hair ties, combs/brushes and lint rollers, he'd never ask his family to change but god does it get EVERYWHERE.

- She was the one to make the first move officially (had asked Garp to accompany to a cafe she had gotten a flyer to, face turned away to hide the flush settling on.)

- Big reader, mostly on the varying plants and ecosystems of the different islands on the Grandline and occasionally dips into the mythology of the Blue Sea (just to see what else they got wrong)

- Do not bring up Noland the Liar around her, whatever’s in her hand will shatter and she’ll begin to mutter very quickly under her breathe

- Skilled fighter but actively hates having to fight. It’s less about being scared for and more perpetuating a cycle, violence will only bred more violence. It has its uses but she’d rather not use it at all

- Garp made the mistake of asking her to join the Marines exactly once. The look she gave him was so venomous the topic of enlisting wasn’t brought up again until Dragon was born.

- Has possessed Mantra/Observation Haki from incredibly an early age and developed Armament Haki through training with Garp

- Instantly goes into mother mode around younger people. Physically cannot help it. She just has to dote on them. Definitely takes it up a notch when she’s grandmother age

- Would certainly approve of the ASL's dreams of being pirates/revolutionaries. Who is she to stand in the way of their search for Freedom?

- She and Crocodile get along swimmingly! They discuss mushroom foraging and she shows him all the best for it on Elbaf!

- Consistently refers to Kuzan as her ‘second born’ before someone (usually Sengoku) reminds her that she did not in fact birth him. She would agree and then do the same thing the very next day.

- Big fan of the newspaper since it keeps her up to date on the happenings of her family. Keeps all issues they are mentioned in pristine condition and chronological order.

- Gets intense waves of guilt for ‘leaving her people behind’ and would often wonder if she deserves that happiness she found here.

- Has no inherent ill feelings towards Gan Fall anymore but definitely didn’t like him back then. She’s still a little taken aback when Luffy mentions what a help he was during his time in Skypiea

- Is relentless in her pride of Dragon and everything he has accomplished. She had watched him grow from a sweet little boy who cried when a Den Den Mushi had to be decommissioned to a man who was out to save the world. He is her every wildest wish come true.

Taking down these notes because I might just have to put her on a canvas at some point.

Some additions I would also like to add!

- her surprising proficiency for Mantra/Observation Haki was inherited by Dragon, and she helped him train it.

- When Dragon found her on Elbaf (and let’s say after the WG falls to hell where it belongs) he makes time to take her and Garp to Shandora to hear the Bell that their grandson reclaimed.

- While up there, she reunites with her little sister Nina, and meets her grandnephew Wyper.

- she always had mixed feelings about Dragon joining the marines, but she understood his heart was in the right place. Shame the rest of the Navy couldn’t say the same.

- Dragon’s desertion was a hard time for everyone, but they all knew it was inevitable. Her boy would climb higher and higher in the ranks, and his eyes would have less and less of their warmth. By the time he attained the rank of Admiral, there was hardly anything of her sweet, gentle soul of a son left. It tore her and Garp’s heart to shreds.

- Dragon’s desertion was a planned thing. He had been stationed at Ohara to oversee an expedition, and he had seen the archaeologists be given bounties for the sin of doing their job. He showed up on his parent’s doorstep in the dead of night to tell them he was going to have to be on the run from now on. Urpi gave him her earrings. They are the only thing she had left that had survived her fall from Skypiea and her journey across the seas. They would go with him now on his journey.

- The bounty posters that had been released of Nico Robin following Ohara’s destruction gave her pause. Dragon had mentioned working with a Nico Olvia during this expedition, this child certainly looked like her mother if you looked at the bounty posters side by side but… her complexion, the coloration of her hair… a quick tally of the dates and she can’t help but wonder if she inherited her father’s wings, too.

- when she saw Dragon again after so long, she hugged his neck. His eyes were warm again. He had his hope again. It was tempered with Nika knew how many trials, but he was still the loving little boy with the downy wings that she sang to sleep every night so many years ago…

- she was intrigued by Crocodile. She had heard these “devil fruits” could do wonderful things, but to change a body to match the soul within it… it was incredible. To know her son had helped set this man on that path to change made her wings fluff up with pride. She wishes she could have met Olvia, too.

- after coming to Elbaf, she NEVER covers her wings. She cuts holes in the backs of her clothes for them to fit through, sews clothes using patterns and stitches she knows by heart… as much as she lover Garp, Goa had been stifling. Upon seeing the cuts and mends in the backs of Dragons shirts when he visits, she can tell he suffered the same.

#one piece #monkey d urpi #monkey d dragon #monkey d garp #nico robin #nico olvia #sir crocodile #shandian!dragon #luffy and robin are siblings theory #half-siblings in this case #crocodad #trans crocodile #monkey d family #headcanons #ocs #taurus answers

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commander-rahrah · 1 year ago

Text

Talking to the Moon: Part III

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader

Word Count: ~4450

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here

Summary: Set in Act II in Moonrise Towers, after meeting Ketharic and Araj the first time; Astarion finally comes to terms with his feelings for you, and takes a chance.

Notes: I love elements of both versions of Astarion’s confession scene, so I decided to combine them and add a little extra to them too! There is some dialogue borrowed from the game from Astarion's actual confession, but I added a lot more into it, especially with Tav/Reader's responses.

I love this pairing so very much. I know it is very soft, but I just think Astarion deserves someone soft and gentle and patient with him.

Thank you for reading and interacting! It means so much to me ♡♡♡

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

Bile was rising in Astarion’s throat. The scent of the room, the things that drow was doing to those vials of blood. It was wrong, all wrong. He thought he was a monster for the curse bestowed upon him. But whatever experiments were being conducted, they were monstrous in a completely different sense. His entire being had screamed at him to flee when she had turned her violet eyes onto him. He hated that she even knew his name. He wanted to get as far away from this miserable tower as possible. To go find the stupid artifact for themselves and never return. And the drow was still trying to convince him. Gods, he wished she would just give up. Maybe if he just gave in — it would be only a moment, and then it would be over. His body would still cringe as he remembered it, but he could just add it to the list. But then he glanced to you. You had shown him, the other night, the power of listening to yourself. Of stopping. Of saying no. Really, you had been teaching him that over and over during your little adventures together. When he first realized his new found freedom, all he could focus on was being away from Cazador. Being away from his looming, threatening presence — the pain, the anguish. What he didn’t realize was that freedom came with something else. Autonomy. A choice. Astarion had been making many of them, every day for weeks and he hadn’t realized. Sometimes they were tiny, insignificant decisions. And sometimes they were remarkable… or foolish. But they were his and his alone. And he felt like he could make them. That he wouldn’t be punished or gutted by the group. Betrayed or humiliated for it. And that was because of you.

When Astarion had decided to seduce you he had done it for his protection. He had seen your abilities and power those first few days and realized the threat you could pose to his master. He had done it to ensure you would be on his side, always — that you would never turn on him. What he hadn’t expected was how your protection would really feel, what it would entail. He knew he had your blade and powers now — just as you had his. But what you had given him was so much more than just your abilities. It was sanctuary. He felt shielded, secure. He could let his guard down, he had let his guard down with you. He could make decisions and mistakes and grow… Feel what he wanted, think what he wanted. So as he stared at you, his mind resolved. His red eyes narrowed as he gave his attention to the drow one final time, “I gave you my answer.” She scoffed, “Your control over your spawn has lapsed. Order him to do this, you will not regret it.” The alchemist spat at you, her arms crossed with irritation from his rejection. Even just the word spawn made the hairs on the back of his arms raise. And she thought you were his master. He knew exactly what Cazador would do if he were here. A bleak thought tried to surface in his head, but he forced it away. No, you weren’t like Cazador.

He trusted you. Your nostrils flared as you snapped your head to the mad alchemist, “He is his own person. And he gave you his answer.” “If you would just—“ “No,” You growled, stepping forward with your lips in a snarl. “He said no.” The group blinked at you — you had never been so short with anyone. You were usually flowery and lighthearted even when were outright rejecting someone. Even when someone had a blade pointed to your chest, you were at least civil. They had never seen you like this. Astarion’s red eyes flickered across you face, you seemed just as upset as he did. He could hear your heart thundering, your blood boiling. “Stay away from him.” Your tone was final, your jaw set. “I’ve had enough of this wretched place. Let’s get out of here.” You huffed, turning on your heel and marching out of the tower. Astarion trailed behind you and the rest of the group, studying you carefully. You were vibrating. He couldn’t recall ever seeing you this mad. He almost expected you to go into a rage like Karlach did. He knew you would often put on a mask — one that said everything was fine, everyone was good. You used it because you wanted to be a good leader, because you so often wanted to see the best in the world. He had seen it slip up before, had seen you remove it just for him. But this anger was something entirely new. And it was on his behalf? Astarion grasped that in defending him, not only had you revealed something about yourself, you had made him feel something he had not known in hundreds of years. Respected. Safe. Alive. Not a pawn or tool. A person. He realized that you were both just two people. And that one of you (and maybe if the gods were kind), both of you… stupidly cared for one another.

Fallen for the other. His plan had gone out the window much sooner than he wanted to admit to himself. He hadn’t been performing with you for quite some time. No, he had not been your plaything or object of desire. He had been… himself. A version of himself he had never known he could be. And the final step was to relinquish the thing he was harboring — control. To show you what he truly has to offer. To put his faith in you. And trust that in turn you would listen, and understand. And not immediately stake him through the heart. A thousand scenarios of how his confession would go began to swirl in his head. But his shoulders lifted as you all left the oppressive atmosphere inside. Even the doom and gloom of the Shadlowlands was appreciated over the dark energy swirling in Moonrise Towers. “Well, that was not what I’d expected.” Gale broke the silence first as the party finished crossing the bridge away from the imposing tower. You were about to begin the trek back to your camp. “Ketheric is…” “An abomination.” Lae’zel interjected, her teeth barred slightly as she spoke. Shadowheart let out a loud breath from her nose, “Agreed.” “Everyone in that place is vile.” Wyll grimaced as he looked over his shoulder, “That alchemist…” He glanced over to Astarion, worry plastered over his face. Though the vampire was sure it was for his missing father more than anything, not for him. “She was a little obsessive. But can you blame her?” Astarion put on his usual snark, letting out his fake laugh as he gestured at himself. “It wasn’t obsessive, it was disgusting.” Your voice was low — your distaste was clear. “She didn’t treat you as a person, only an object of her desire.” “She isn’t the first.“ He gave you a sad smile, before quirking his white eyebrows. “Well, she will be the last. And how dare she look to me, to try and get me to what—leash you? Control you? How dare she think of me as your master—“ “Darling,” Astarion grabbed onto your elbow, halting your rant and your movement. “You aren’t Cazador, trust me.” No, Cazador would have leapt at the opportunity. Not even for the potion. The sadistic bastard would make him do it just to get off on his humiliation. You were as opposite of Cazador as there could possibly be. The furrow in your brow softened, before you nodded your head. The pair of you looked around to realize you had stopped in the middle of the pathway, the rest of the party halted as well, watching your interaction. Realizing the sudden attention you cleared your throat, a blush creeping across your cheeks as you turned your attention back to the group. “Well, I think it’s best we get back to camp to strategize, right?” “Right.” Wyll nodded at you with a knowing smile, before you and the warlock started to lead the group again. Astarion’s red eyes trailed after you, a soft look tugging at his features. “You’re looking a little smitten lately, Fangs.” Karlach poked him in the ribs as she walked by, “Don’t worry, they look at you like that too.” She said over her shoulder, before taking extra long steps to catch up with you.

He fought the smile that stretched his lips, before trailing after you.

• • •

Astarion knew he was being anything but subtle as he sat across the campfire from you. His red eyes continually found their way to your figure throughout the evening. The different scenarios he had been imagining in his head were still swirling, consuming his every thought. When he told you his intended plan, but how he had fallen for you instead — how would you react? What if he told you and you laughed? Or screamed? Or attacked? His mind was a cruel, treacherous thing he realized. But his half-dead heart still thumped with the same tune of... hope. What if you had fallen too? Your laughter snapped him back to the present, the joyous sound something he had missed hearing lately. The shadowlands did not leave much time or room for happiness and lighthearted moments. But this evening seemed to be an exception. Gale continued his story, some tale of his about being a foolish boy with much too much time and magic on his hands. The group was hovering and sitting nearby as they listened. Even Shadowheart had joined, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips as she listened with Karlach’s arm slung behind her waist. “The hubris of wizards.” Lae’zel sneered with a roll of her eyes. “I do not understand how you have made it this far in life, istik.” “Dumb luck?” Wyll joked as he ruffled Gale’s brown hair. “Har har," The wizard rolled his eyes, before raising his finger in counterpoint, "But to be fair, the spell was transcribed improperly—" The group groaned collectively, but it was Karlach who spoke up, “Nooooooo, no more talk of proper etiquette and techniques. You’re the only one who cares for it!” He slumped, “Ugh, I miss Tara. She and I would have the most heated debates about proper techniques…” You placed an arm around his shoulders and gave him a half hug. “She is a much better companion than we are then.” You grinned at him, before finishing the last of your meal and placing the empty dish on your lap.

Envy coursed through Astarion at your casual touch with Gale. He wished... He wished he could touch that easily. Be touched that easily, so casually. Without a second thought.

“Are you done?” Shadowheart stood above you, with her small hand outstretched and gesturing to the empty dish in your lap.

“I— oh, yes,” You stumbled over your words before you held it out for her. She grabbed it gently, and you let out quiet words of gratitude. The cleric bowed her head bashfully, before grabbing the other dishes and heading to the river to wash up. Shock went through your face, your eyes shining bright and hopeful. It was the most interaction you’d had all week — and it had been soft and gentle. Remorseful, even. Karlach caught your eye and gave you a small smile — nodding her head in reassurance at you.

Eventually, the tell-tale signs of the camp beginning to wind down for the night started. Gale grabbed a glass of wine and his spellbook, before excusing himself to his makeshift desk near his tent. Wyll and Karlach were now playing cards, chuckling softly between hushed stories. Lae'zel had excused herself for an early night, and Shadowheart remained at the fire pouring over a book she had picked up today. You were kneeling in front of your tent, searching through your pack for something.

The vampire glanced around once more — if he didn't do it now, he didn't know when he would build up the courage to do it again. Standing up, he nervously picked at the sides of his leather pants as he tread closer to your tent. He made purposeful steps as he approached, alerting you of his presence.

"Astarion, hi." You sounded breathless as you stood up quickly, abandoning your belongings on the ground.

“Walk with me?” He quirked his eyebrow, his hands still twitching apprehensively at his side. “Sure,” You said with an easy smile, falling into step by his side as he brought you towards the sandy bed near the river. The sounds and sights of the camp began to get quieter and quieter as you walked away.

You both took in the sights around you, the dim evening light revealing the dark water that was flowing slowly and a quiet breeze that didn't snare in any of the bare branches. “Even with the curse — this place can be quite beautiful sometimes.” His red eyes glanced around before settling back on you, “You think so?”

"I do."

He thought that spoke more about you, then it did about the Shadowlands. Seeing the beauty in somewhere like this, was a reflection of your own. You made him believe that some good and beauty could really be found in such darkness. Clearing his throat, he spoke with his fingers twirling behind his back, “I brought you out here because… I think we need to talk.” You cocked your head, “About what?” “I— I, uh…," His steps stopped, then yours. "I want to thank you.” “For?” He turned to face you, “For what you said while I was in front of that vile drow. I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. You could have asked me to do the same — to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t. And I’m grateful.” You winced, “I would never — You should never have to do something you don’t want to." “It’s a novel concept, I admit." He gave you a sad smile, "And a little intimidating… it would have been so easy to do it. Just to go along with what I was being told to do. A moment of disgust to force myself through. And then I could have carried on, just like before…”

But things were different now.

“That would’ve been wrong. How she treated you, how he treated you is wrong.”

"I know. I know that now. The entire reason for my existence was to seduce anything with a pulse. And every instinct I have tells me that nothing’s changed. That I’m still just a means to an end... But you made me see that I never stopped thinking like I was still his slave, even in freedom. But I’m more than that. More than a thing to be used.” The vampire stood up a little taller, his chin lifting.

"You are so much more, Astarion. You deserve so much more.” His mouth twitched as he tried to force down the swell of emotion climbing up his stomach and into his throat. “Are you all right?” “Oh yes, I’m fine. I just — feel awful." His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction.

"All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart. You… you’re incredible.” Your eyebrows raised on your face as you stepped a little closer, “Astarion… what are you saying?” “I'm saying... That I’ve fallen for you.” He finally admitted.

A look of astonishment crossed your face, before your lips pulled into the most beautiful smile he had even seen. If you were about to stake him — at least it would be a sweet death.

“And I you.” You whispered back. His mind went berserk, the thudding in his ears amplifying even more. “You — you have?” He sputtered. “Absolutely. Astarion, you are wonderful, you are… My parents paid for some of the best tutors you can find on this continent, and I still can’t think of the words to describe you.”

You both let out breathy nervous laughs, both of your eyes darting across the other's features with grins on your face.

The corners of his mouth turned down as he got serious, his voice thick with emotion. “You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.” “So do I. More than anything.” You admitted, your eyes sparkling with hope and maybe something a little more. “I just don’t know what real looks like. Not after two hundred years playing the rake. Being close to someone — any kind of intimacy— was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”

Because he did want to. There had been moments with you that had brought him such unexpected bliss, touch and pleasure more euphoric then anything he could have imagined. And he wanted to experience that again with you, all of it with you. But he wanted to experience it without it being marred from his past. “I care about you — deeply. For longer then I should admit… My feelings for you have been about more than sex and attraction for quite some time now.” He knew what you were saying was the truth. He’d seen the look on your face in the Last Light Inn — the hurt and pain etched into it when you thought he only saw you for sex. That in the last few weeks you too, had been stepping away from the physical — and yet, you still spoke to him, protected him, cared for him.

But he couldn't stop the little voice in the back of his mind. "Really? You're sure?"

"I've never been more sure. May I hug you?” You asked carefully, your brows furrowed ever so slightly.

Uncertainty flooded through him. No one had asked his permission like this before. No one had offered affection without some end in sight. But he remembered your previous soft touches, and noticed how cautious you were being now. He nodded his head, convinced. He awkwardly moved his arms out, unsure of how to do this.

You wrapped your arms around him slowly, giving him ample time to change his mind or pull away. He felt your fingers bunch the material on the back of his shirt, tugging at it gently. Your scent filled his nostrils, your warmth seeping into his cold body. No one had very touched him like this, comforted him like this. He choked back the sob that almost escaped him, his mouth puckering before he wrapped his own arms around you — burying his head into the side of your neck and pushing into you more.

Astarion wasn’t sure how long you stood there like that — but he didn’t really care. He hadn't realized how long he had yearned for this, for you.

It took every fiber of his being to pull away from you, but he caught your hand before you could fully pull away. "Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing... or what comes next." He placed his other hand on top of yours, enveloping them with what he hoped was a tender touch. "But I know that this? This is nice."

You gave him another life-changing smile, “It is. Isn’t it?”

He couldn't stop himself from matching your expression, “Gods, I feel so foolish — I don’t know how to do this, to be romantic or anything without—“

You interrupted him softly, “We will learn together. And take our time doing so.”

“Ugh, why do you have to be so patient and kind? It makes me like you even more.” He said exasperatedly, staring at your now intertwined fingers.

You looked up to the now inky black sky, “It’s getting late,”

He chewed the inside of his cheek, “I don’t want to turn in yet. I just got you to myself…”

“There will be more nights, I promise.” You assured him.

His eyebrows rose as he had an idea, but the worry of rejection flooded through him, “Would you, if you wanted, you can say no—“

“Starry.” You gave him a reassuring nod, your eyes telling him to speak up for himself.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asked in a hushed tone.

You quirked your lips, “Perhaps you need more time before we share a tent — even just to sleep. I do not want to rush you.”

“I—I must admit I quite enjoyed having you next to me while we just slept at the inn." He confessed.

“You would be comfortable with that?”

He nodded, “Yes, I believe so.”

“And if you change your mind?”

“I will tell you. I promise.”

“As you wish, love.” You squeezed his fingers once more, before beginning to lead him back towards the camp.

He stumbled behind you for a moment, slightly dazed.

Love. The name made his heart swoon and flutter. Gods, his name on your lips had made him come alive again, but that single word made him feel like he was the only person in the world.

• • •

Thankfully the rest of the party had retired to their tents by the time you two returned. The campfire snuffed out, and supplies tucked away. Scratch had lifted his head from his watch on a rock as you approached, but settled quickly as he saw who it was.

You had changed in your own tent, insisting on that boundary until more time had passed. You had been shivering in your nightclothes as you slipped into his tent and immediately hid under one of his blankets. Astarion had chuckled before joining you, leaving a respectable amount of space between you. A comfortable amount for him, as you insisted.

He couldn't help but look at you laying next to him. When he had laid next to you in the inn he had to force himself to look away, but he allowed himself to now. Your face and hair glowed in the soft light of the few candles he had kept lit. His eyes focused on your lips as you licked them before speaking.

“You are much braver than I am.” You whispered, keeping your voice low so as not to wake your sleeping companions.

The vampire scoffed, “Me? Brave? Darling, don’t make me laugh. I made Karlach wear me like a backpack today to cross over vines.” “To say what you did tonight first… I had been trying to work up the courage but I… I think I care about you so much it just terrified me.”

He had seen you stand up to cambions, run through burning buildings. But that is what terrified you? “Why?” Your brow instantly furrowed, your eyes flashing down. “I… I never thought you would reciprocate. I was happy to take whatever scraps you gave me because I just assumed… I’ve been told I’m hard to love most of my life. Too loud, too much.” “I could never have enough of you.” The words left Astarion’s lips without a second thought. Instant tears formed in your eyes, turning them silver in the glowing candle light. You clutched your chest for a moment, before brushing the tears away, “Oh, you can’t just say things like that.” “Even if they are true?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Astarion… I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

He scoffed, "If anyone should be asking that it’s me.”

You shook your head at his intended self-deprecation, before settling onto the bedroll as you prepared yourself to sleep.

He watched your eyes flutter open and closed for a few times, before he spoke again quietly. “Would you tell me one of the things?”

“Hmmm?” You asked with a hum, your eyes still closed as you rolled slightly closer to hear him. “A few weeks ago you— you said that you wished I could see myself the way you do… How do you see me?”

Though he was overjoyed with you reciprocating his feelings, he couldn’t help but be bewildered by them. Why him? Out of all the people you had met and befriended, why in the hells had you picked him? He was violent, arrogant, traumatized…

Your expression softened as you opened your eyes, a happy sound escaping you as you thought. “I love the way you act when you think no one is looking.” He blinked. “What ever do you mean?” “Oh, when you hum around camp when doing chores or… oh, that cat at the inn. You were so delighted, petting that the little thing.” You smiled at the memory, “Everyone is afraid of being perceived, I know. And with the walls you built around yourself… it is such a lovely sight to see when you let them down for a moment.”

He stared at you in disbelief. You had been seeing him for longer than he realized.

He whispered your name, before choking out. ”I— Thank you.”

You looked over at him like he was the stars in the sky. “Goodnight Astarion.” You said sleepily, your eyes fluttering closed as you began to doze off. “Sweet dreams, darling.” He rolled over onto his back, his eyes moving from your form to close and see you in his dreams instead. A smile tugged on his lips as he fell into his trance.

And so began the nights of you joining him in his slumber.

Even just laying next to him, your presence was a gift. Blanketing him with safety and companionship — granting him a peace he had never known.

The deepest intimacy he had ever experienced. And he wasn’t afraid of it. It wasn’t painful.

And perhaps that is why the moon came up every night — so that the stars did not feel so alone.

Part IV

#bg3 fanfic #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader

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erictmason · 5 months ago

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“BOUND FOR FREEDOM, YEAR SIX, DAY SEVEN: “Transformation”

“An Unexpected Transformation”

“SALLY!”

Sonic cried out as loud as he could against the thundering storm, racing through the swampy forest with desperate speed. The dark skies made it difficult to see, and the thick gnarled trees left him little room to navigate. Yet he continued to run all the same.

“SALLY, COME BACK!”

He could still see her looking at him with such fear in her eyes…could still hear her ordering him to leave her behind. The strange blackened veins running along her body…the weakness of her breath…the cold weight of not knowing what was happening to her even as they both feared they knew the answer. And when the hedgehog had refused her order, the princess had used what remained of her strength to knock him down and run off into the depths of the forest.

“SAL, PLEASE!”

It was foolish to give chase, even by Sonic’s standards. He had no real clue where Sally was by this point, and the rain from the storm was only making the forest harder and harder to move through. Yet he couldn’t just…leave her. Even if…even if she was already…!

That grim thought was swallowed up as Sonic suddenly found his momentum stopped cold; something had caught his feet! Lurching forward, the hedgehog’s eyes widened as he saw the familiar sickly green-brown of Mega Muck all around his ankles, barely able to twist his body around in time to prevent himself from landing face first in the stuff. That still meant, however, that his arms and the back of his head found themselves caught in stretchy slimy strands of it, leaving him thoroughly trapped.

Then a terrifying roar filled the air, piercing through even the thunder.

Sonic grit his teeth, struggling with all his might to break free of the muck. He knew that sound very well by now, after he and Sally had tried so hard to run from it. They had only barely managed to keep one step ahead of it…until now. The muck held fast despite Sonic’s best efforts, however, and so he could only watch as several nearby tries began to tremble and crack…as the sound of a low growl drew closer and closer…until a towering figure emerged from the darkness.

It had the broad, muscled body and fierce mane-crowned head of a lion, but it stood taller than any Mobian Sonic had ever seen; bat-like wings spread from its back, a scorpion’s tail curled behind at the rear. Its eyes had an eerie ember-like glow to them, and soon they became fixed on the hedgehog. With a growl, it bore its considerable fangs at him, slowly but sinisterly stalking towards the muck-pit where Sonic remained trapped. ��Gotta get free!” his mind screamed at him. “Gotta find Sal!”

The beast raised its sizeable paw into the air, claws gleaming against the lightning that flashed behind it.

Yet just as it was about to strike, a new roar echoed out. Sonic’s ears perked up; it seemed impossible, and yet all he could think of was, “That…that almost sounds like…!”

From out of the forest, a sharp form cut through the air, tackling into the lion-beast with the strength and speed of a bullet. Even low to the ground as he was, it was impossible for Sonic to mistake what he saw: Sally, flying through the air on leather wings.

Her eyes burned with the same eerie glow as the beast’s, her knees and elbows were now accentuated by sharp barbs that seemed to grow out of her body, and her chipmunk-tail had been replaced with a longer reptilian one. With speed and ferocity, she attacked her beastly adversary. Biting, clawing, pulling, pushing...even though she was far smaller than her opponent, her attacks were fearless and relentless.

The beast would not yield easily, however. Even as Sally scrambled across its body to avoid being grabbed in its claws, it thrashed and stomped about, rattling her fiercely. It gave the beast chances to scrape and slash at her, even as she managed to keep avoiding its grasp. “You’ve got this, Sal!” Sonic shouted up, even as he continued to try and free himself. “Wipe the Muck with this creep!”

He could not tell if Sally heard him, or if she could even still understand him. But he had to smile as he watched her assault continue, slowly but surely forcing the beast to back away from him. That did make it harder for the hedgehog to make out how things were progressing, however, and he felt a cold surge of fear as both Sally and her enemy let out howling roars again. “Who’s crying out in pain, and who’s crying out ‘cuz they won?” he wondered anxiously.

An answer came when the beast sank to its knees, and then collapsed entirely.

Sally stood over its fallen form, wings spreading out just a bit further as if taking in her victory. She briefly shook herself off before turning her attention back to Sonic, slowly approaching him and kneeling at his side.

“Hey Sal,” Sonic said softly as the squirrel leaned closer.

She sniffed at him, ears flickering and eyes slowly moving over Sonic’s prone form. Her clawed hands reached out to him, taking sharp grip. Then, with a yank, she pulled him free of the muck. “How’re you…feelin’?” Sonic asked, tentatively reaching out to her.

The squirrel stepped back, however, her ears and wings both folding down. “…oh…” Sonic whispered, his own ears drooping a bit.

They looked at each other uncertainly for a few moments. Then, crouching down to all fours, the squirrel darted back off into the forest.

This time, Sonic did not chase after her.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic satam #sally acorn #sonally #fan art #ericthemason #my art #boundforfreedom

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groovygianniart · 3 months ago

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Pretty sloppy refsheet since I haven't made a proper one in a while (don't think I ever did for any past fursonas/furry oc's.).

Bitter-Berry was born into the world sometime in the mid-90's to a white-tailed deer mother and a timber wolf father. His mother named him "Juniper" and raised him away from his father, and while growing up, she demonized every aspects of wolves and any predator type species. B.B was raised to fear wolves and suppress his urges which did not mix well with his own deer instincts.

Growing up, B.B had issues making and keeping friends, if he wasn't quietly keeping to himself he was lashing out, which lead to him becoming isolated.

The wolf instincts became worse as a teenager (raging hormones and all that) and he completely lost himself when he attacked and killed a fellow deer. He couldn't help but to eat the corpse when he took them down. He was ousted from the herd and his mother fully disowned him.

Lost and isolated, he met a human woodsman, who took him in after convincing him he was special and they'd make something great together. B.B became the man's "hunting dog" which satisfied his predator urges and gave him a sense of usefulness and belonging.

This seemingly nice setup didn't last long, after a few years, his domestication training turned into full on torture, the woodsman revealed himself to be some type of sorcerer. He would preform torturous rituals on B.B, making him experience death and resurrection.

The only thing that was a silver lining for Bitter-Berry was the fact the more the woodsman used his magic, it would slowly kill him, though it took B.B awhile to realize it would be an open door to escape. He endured this for a full decade until the woodsman became too weak to overpower B.B and eventually die.

Now Bitter-Berry spends his newfound freedom seeing the limits of his supposed immortality and regenerative abilities. He may be a danger to others but he's not invincible, he can still be knocked down and he's pretty weak overall.

He's not sure if he can live a normal life after everything, but at least there's some things that make him happy; like weed, energy drinks, video games and doing art...and other earthly delights.

Extra notes:

B.B has autism and low self esteem, as the years went on his anxiety got worse and he got major depression along with the trauma.

He discovered he was trans near the end of his time stuck with the woodsman.

His antlers started growing after one of the last rituals he was subjected to, it was a mistake by the woodsman but he decided he can take the antlers for whatever he wanted.

B.B can appear in feral, toony and anthro whenever the mood calls for it.

Because of his shifting forms, his legs in anthro mode are mostly digitigrade but can also be plantigrade depending.

Got top surgery at some point but the scars can appear or disappear depending on how the regeneration process is.

B.B chose the name "Bitter-Berry" as a somewhat similar name to his deadname.

Fashion wise B.B dresses more alternatively, fitting with his music tastes. Mostly settles for what's comfortable and listens to a lot of other things too (polyjamorous lol).

B.B appears sickly due to an unbalanced diet, but default is kinda chubby.

Sometimes his wolf instincts clash with his deer instincts to the point of self destructive behavior.

Despite the dark subject matter, he has the ability to be silly and laugh at dumb things or odd coincidences.

There's a lot of darker stuff and not-safe-for-tumblr subject matter but hopefully that can be gauged with the bio there.

#digital art #ref sheet #reference sheet #furry #fursona #weirdfur #deer furry #wolf furry #hybrid #my art #one day I'll make a better one in the future #but this will do for now #horror #creepy #weird

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williamaltman · 1 year ago

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Life is Strange 2 thoughts/feelings/review

So, Life is Strange 2. I finished the game yesterday and watched the other endings today. Things are not as fresh in my mind as if I had just finished and I talked a bit about it in other places so this feels a bit hard, but I'll try to lay down all my thoughts...

First of all... All my homies love LIS2, fuck you if you don't like LIS2! Seriously though, for years I've seen people say that the game wasn't good, that the characters weren't as good as the ones from the first one, that the Sean/Daniel relationship wasn't that interesting... I kinda did suspect it was just nostalgia goggles or whatever, but now I know for sure. I don't think there's anything wrong with connecting more with LIS1 and having a deeper relationship with it, but in this case I think you shouldn't even be comparing them and expecting the game to live up to that to you in the first place.

Now, onto the actual game. God, this was so fucking heartbreaking. I think I cried in every single episode. The very core premise of the story is just so sad, so unfair, and despite the powers so rooted in reality that it left me legit feeling uncomfortable with how fucked up their whole situation was. There are good moments, sure, but honestly every single thing that happens from the moment their dad is shot is just... Not how their life should've had to be.

Sure, LIS1 and BTS had dark themes too. But here, it's like, they lose everything from the beginning. Sean doesn't get to go to his party, to hang out with Lyla, to continue his normal life in any way. Daniel loses a part of his childhood. They're both forced to grow up so much faster than they should. There's a line Sean says in episode 3, and it's just a little idle VO, but it fucking crushed me, "Stop overthinking. You're not a teenager anymore". Even though he's fucking 16... He's 16 and he has to essentially become a parent. I knew what the game was about and lowkey followed it a bit when it was releasing, knew a few spoilers, but that didn't make anything any less heartbreaking.

I thought it was beautiful how the game took the opportunity to showcase and celebrate alternate lifestyles. The "family", Away, their freedom and how they interacted with society brings so much into perspective. I'm still a bit conflicted about Karen tbh, but I'm glad that at least they did show something beautiful through her story.

My biggest problem overall is probably how they handled the Finn romance route... I knew back when the game was releasing that despite adding a male LI, they pushed the female one more onto you and gave her more content, while locking the option to kiss him with a "bad choice" (I didn't know what exactly it was). And yeah, that is still true. I still think it was a mistake to lock the kiss with accepting the heist, and while I kinda understand the writer's explanation for that, I still think it could've been handled in another way, or they could've just let him kiss you and "betray" you by doing the heist anyway, since he still does that when you're friends lol.

I see people complaining that because they moved from place to place each episode, there wasn't enough time to connect with the characters... Idk if I'd say I disagree, but it just wasn't really the case for me. I was very invested in all the relationships, in Finn, Cassidy, Jacob, Chris, Karen. Everyone at the farm was cool and everyone in Away too. Lyla. You get so many tidbits about the characters even when they're not there on screen. The only thing I have to say which is kinda related to that, is that I think the time jumps were maybe a bit too big, and that the way they handled Mushroom was... weird.

I got the Parting Ways ending, and I'm satisfied with it. I kinda planned to get it, but only in the sense that I was spoiled that you get with Finn there. I didn't know that the whole morality thing had anything to do with it, and I played the first two episodes without even knowing that there was a points system about that and about brotherhood. I just made all the choices that were high morality (besides killing the cougar and the heist) because it was what I would do, and tried to be a good brother for Daniel. I figured that choosing to cross the border would most likely give me that one, but I just couldn't accept Sean having to go to prison for 15 years for something he didn't even do. If we were able to choose between Parting Ways and Blood Brothers, then I would actually be conflicted about which I wanted.

With the way the game's system works though, where you need to have low morality to get Blood Brothers, I couldn't really do it. I can't imagine myself teaching Daniel to be selfish and not care about killing people. I actually think it's super cool to watch Daniel use his power offensively and fuck shit up, but it just wouldn't be my version of the story. It's funny because, if we just played as Daniel, I wouldn't mind going that route. But since we play as Sean, with it being our job to raise Daniel, I feel a different kind of responsability towards leading him to become a good person. I also think it's beautiful that he gets to have the rest of his childhood, teenagehood, and live a "normal" healthy life with his grandparents. He does it in the redemption one too, but as I said, that just screws up Sean too much.

So, I'm a little disappointed that they're separated (and maybe can't ever see each other again? I'm a bit confused about Daniel's situation and whether he could visit), and that it's a bit shorter than the others (at least than the redemption one), but it IS the ending my playthrough led to and in that I'm satisfied.

I think this story is just incredible. It touched me so much, and the fact that some people can't see it genuinely frustrates me. The people complaining it's too political in particular can just go fuck themselves. It might not be perfect, but like with all things I appreciate, I'm just so glad it exists.

#life is strange 2 #life is strange #lis 2 #lis2 #sean diaz #daniel diaz #finn mcnamara #sean x finn #rambling #review

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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 2 months ago

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The Hidden Realm

Chapter 4: The Fae Realm

Summary: Elrond has sacrificed himself in a prisoner exchange to secure Lindir's freedom. Has he made a mistake?

Note: I am so sorry I disappeared for so long! I have been trying to turn Timeless Warrior into a published series. I make no promises on how consistent I will be, but I will be trying more. Thank you for your patience!

Elrond didn’t notice anything different at first; it was just the normal, corrupted forest now known as Mirkwood. But the deeper they went, the quieter it became. The birds stopped singing, the animals were diving for cover, and even the trees stopped rustling. The Queen and her guard never spoke to each other but they were communicating nonetheless. Even the horses - his included - seemed to speak this silent language.

The portal was nearly invisible even to his elvish eyes, and part of him wondered if that had to do with his Edain blood. It was there, a slight shimmer in the air not too dissimilar to when the air was too hot.

And they were heading straight for it.

The Queen went first and Elrond had to blink several times to make sure he was not being deceived. But sure enough, parts of her were disappearing as she went through the shimmer until she was no longer in front of him. As if she had vanished into thin air. Then it was his turn.

He tried not to panic when he saw Morroch's head vanish before his eyes, and then his hands followed. Elrond closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. But he was met with chuckling from the guard. Opening his eyes, he was left speechless at the sight of the fae realm.

There was a glow to nearly every plant, source of water, and even some of the animals. They followed a river that had a silver-blue glow, and the banks were lined with beautiful pink flowers that had the most beautiful scent Elrond had ever come across.

Butterflies bigger than his head fluttered by and the birds sang a song he had never heard. Even the sky seemed to have changed. It was achingly beautiful.

Then they arrived at her castle.

It wasn’t obvious at first. They passed gardens and pools, filled with both fae and humans, which surprised Elrond. Everyone stopped at the sight of an elf in chains, but no one made a move to save him. If anything, they all had a look of understanding on their faces. What had been occurring in this kingdom?

Then the dirt road turned into one of stone, cut in intricate patterns of flowers, stars, and moons. The road lead to a massive gate, silver in color and covered in ivy, fern, and moss with dark purple flowers blooming and glowing. Through the gates, Elrond could see fountains with different colored glowing water, lightning bugs dancing all over, and more fae children splashing in the fountains.

The forest hadn’t ended at the gates. It wasn’t as thick in the courtyard as in Eryn Galen, but the forest was still there. Hiding the castle.

It reached up into the treetops, the stones used to build it a moonlight silver with many open windows, towers, bridges, and more moss, fern, and ivy growing all over. There were lights at the top of each tower and Elrond chalked it up to magic as no candle could survive standing atop a tower day and night.

There was a glowing moat around the castle and next to the bridge to cross stood two sentinels. The Queen dismounted at the sight of them, followed by her guard. The guard and the two sentinels carefully removed Elrond from his horse and the guard grabbed Elrond’s arm. The sentinels called for a couple of squires to take the horses from the group and then the Queen was leading them to the castle doors.

Elrond could smell the magic in the air that surrounded them. It wasn’t suffocated as corrupted magic could be. It was new, fresh, and full of hope. It smelled of Arda when Elrond was young.

Before everything was taken from him.

It gave him an unexpected wave of nostalgia, causing him to think of his parents for the first time in millennia. How his mother would give him and Elros a cookie before tucking them into bed. How his father would show Elrond about plants and Elros about animals. Oh, how he missed them both. Would they be proud of the elf he had become?

The foyer was grand and the only comparison he had was Eryn Galen. That foyer was smaller and more focused compared to this grandeur.

No, he had another comparison.

Gil-Galad’s home. The High King of the Noldor had towers made, and while they were grand those were still towers. No, Elrond didn’t know a true castle outside of Minas Tirath. This structure before him was more human in nature than elvish. Did the fae get the idea from man or the other way around?

The Queen took them down a hall to their left just on the other side of the foyer and were immediately met with a vibrant green fae woman.

“Your Majesty, oh!” She stopped short at the sight of the elf. “Your Majesty?”

“It is quite alright. This elf will be taking the place of the prisoner we secured at Thranduil’s party.”

The fae woman blinked in surprise. “He is?”

“Yes, he is.” There was no arguing with her tone and the woman bowed her head.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Shall I get the other prisoner ready for departure?”

The Queen let out a deep breath through her nose. “Yes, I suppose we should do that. I wish to speak with him before his departure, so do not make haste.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” And the woman quickly left their presence.

“You seemed annoyed at the idea of letting Lindir go,” Elrond commented.

The Queen looked at him out of the side of her eyes but did not comment as she continued to lead them down to her dungeons. Elrond took note at the artwork on the walls: beautiful portraits of what he had assumed was the royal family. What surprised him was the amount of humans in some of the paintings.

“Is it typical to allow humans to live in your realm?”

She turned sharply at his question. “Get this in your head now, elf. There will be no negotiating. No pleading. No bargaining. You are our prisoner per your own request. Do not concern yourself with my kingdom, for this is the last you will see of it outside your cell.”

She turned back just as quickly and Elrond did not mean the quiet words that left his mouth.

“I only desire to learn.”

“I do not care of your desires.”

While the cell was dark, it was not what Elrond had feared. It appeared more of a standard room. A comfortable enough bed, a private area to relieve himself, and even a window which had surprised him at first until he realized the image was produced by magic.

“The light from the window changes as the day progresses,” the guard explained. “We do not have cruel prisons as some humans and elves had built. Torture is not our way.”

Elrond wondered at this but didn’t have long to ponder as another was in the room. Lindir.

Being held by the Queen.

“Say your goodbyes,” she commanded.

She tossed him into the room and Elrond caught the elf as he stumbled.

“Lord Elrond?!” Lindir’s eyes were full of panic. “You gave your life for mine? No! You must go back and lead Imladris!”

“Imladris will be in the capable hands of my sons. What kind of a lord would I be if I did not do everything in my power to protect those who had called Rivendell their home? Go, Lindir. My children will need your and Erestor’s guidance during these trying times.”

“But my lord-”

“I will not hear another word, Lindir. That is an order.”

Lindir dropped his head. “Yes, Lord Elrond.”

The Queen watched the entire interaction and Elrond could have sworn he saw a flash of sorrow in her eyes. But it was gone far too quickly.

“Who dares join me down here?!”

Rhyannon was still surprised after all these years how strong the voice still was. He was full of so many surprises despite all the time he spent in her dungeons.

Down and down and down she went to the very bottom of her dungeons were only one prisoner was kept. To the only prison cell that had a steel door on top of the protection charm. The two guards standing on either side straightened to attention at the sight of their queen and she smiled at them.

“It’s alright. I wish to speak to the old grump.”

The guards hesitated for a moment before finally opening the door. Rhyannon didn’t bother to remove the protective charm and her instincts proved correct when a cup came flying at her head.

“WITCH!” The elf was clean, but there was no joy in his soul. His once beautiful silvery golden hair was now faded to a dull white.

“Is that the best you have in you?” A smirk played on her face. “I thought your kind was supposed to fade after time when your soul has been wounded?”

“I will live to see you dead!”

“The Fae cannot die, unlike elves.” She stated plainly.

“Who are these new prisoners?! I could hear you talking with them!”

“Do not concern yourself for those you will not meet.”

“DID YOU CAPTURE-”

“No, I didn’t,” Rhyannon sighed in annoyance. “Thranduil still roams free.”

“He will take your head!”

She chuckled at this. “Funny, he thinks I have already done that to you.”

There was still life in his eyes, but the pain they showed at her words made Rhyannon wonder if this would finally be his end.

“He thinks I’m dead?”

“Don’t worry. If it makes you feel better, when I finally take Eryn Galen I can keep him in a cell right next to yours. And his son next to his.”

“You leave my family alone!”

“I will not any more than you left mine. Actions have consequences, Oropher.”

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@liadamerondjarin

@blackgaladriel

Elrond

@themerriweathermage

@theyeetedsoul

@awkwardbecomesyou

@cauliflowertree

#elrond #lord elrond #elrond x original female character #fanfic #fan fic #the hobbit fanfiction #lotr fanfic #the hidden realm #original female characters

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soleilnomoon · 2 years ago

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Hi again! Still absolutely adore your Kid fic from your last event 💜 Never got around to asking for a Sanji one, so here I am again😅 But seriously, congrats on over 550 followers!! Love seeing your blog grow, cause you’re really talented and deserve them all and legit can’t wait til you hit 1k+ 🥰

For the event order, may I please ask for a #1 with my boi Sanji, with anmitsu, konpeito, and keylime pie and with honey, please? 🥹 i hate this but need some sanji angst 😭

I also dunno if these three would work particularly well together for a prompt, so you can choose whatever! just really feeling angst and sanji rn and maybe comfort if you’d like 🥰

Thank you for all your works you’ve done so far 💜💜

hiiii omg haha i loved that fic fr (i'm obsessed w that man!!!) also ily for requesting sanji i don't write him nearly enough 🥰️ but thank you sm!! 😭 making me all soft and i am so so sorry this took forever, as u know i am so slow but!!! i had fun tormenting sanji w the angst ngl 💓💓💓💓 also those were great choices for the prompt, i wanted to write more but it would've been 8k words before i finished and who has time for that (i do, but listen... that's besides the point) ✨

2k words, fem reader (honestly gn too now that i think abt it), sfw (SHOCKING i know), 18+ mdni, a lil bit suggestive but nothing wild, angst angst angst city babey, fluff if you squint, also i gave u comfort bc u deserve it bb 💗(and sanji does too); feat. sanji being in denial forever and ever, mutual pining, fake unrequited love, reader is determined and sanji is a coward; also i made myself sad writing this but a good sad bc sanji deserves happiness and i'll fight oda if he doesn't get it i s2g... (if u see grammar mistakes/spelling errors... no u didn't 💗)

“loving each other began this way: threading / loneliness into loneliness / patiently, our hands trembling and precise.” — yehuda amichai

STEP 01:

what does it take to kill a soul? —

a question that’s posed unironically, without a hint of remorse or tact, the words precise and venomous, slicing through the thick veneer that he’s carefully crafted. he’s never been able to answer that question — not at six years old, not twelve or fifteen, and not at twenty-one. his siblings took pleasure in taunting him with seemingly philosophical questions, ones that clamped down onto his thoughts with heavy shackles.

even after he’s extracted himself from that life, he can’t scrub those memories from his mind — no matter how hard he tries. they sit, still raw and bloody, giving rise to unpleasant emotions that make his stomach churn from so many things left unsaid. he never set out to be a pirate, but piracy has given him the sort of freedom that he could only wish for as a child.

it’s with tender hands, with nimble yet graceful fingers, and with a fastidiousness that puts him in a category of his own, that he creates and creates and creates —

he’s told he’s an artist, which only pushes him to work harder, to be better. and when he asks himself why, he doesn’t have an answer. or, rather, the answer he does have only serves as a punishing reminder that he’ll never be good enough. no matter how many times his crew mates thank him — their emphatic, genuine praise a soft, warm breeze against his heart, gentle caresses that he commits to memory — despair still manages to infiltrate, a darkness choking out what little light he has left inside of him.

STEP 02:

how far are you willing to go to reach the truth? —

when you join the crew, he’s unnerved by your presence, which is wholly unlike him. usually, he’s able to put on his façade of the flirtatious cook, one that’s jovial and sociable, that lives to serve and please those around him. his first conversation with you ends in disaster; he spills the drink he tried to pour for you, despite your insistence that you are perfectly capable of pouring your own drink — and he knows it’s not out of malice, but it cuts into him all the same.

he tries again and again, bringing you little treats that you only agree to eating if he sits and eats with you; confusion eats away at his mind, and when he opens his mouth to decline, you pat the seat next to you and he acquiesces. he sits stiffly, at first, unsure of why he always feels on edge around you — an irritating need to impress you in a way he’s never wanted to for others grows stronger by the day.

you think it’s cute that he always seems flustered around you — that he stumbles over his words, refuses to hold eye contact with you for longer than thirty seconds — you also think it’s cute that the false bravado that he puts on for the world, diminishes immediately the second you come close to him. if he’s skittish, it’s because you always catch him staring at you; despite his quick reflexes, his reactions around you are slow but pure — childish, almost.

lately he’s clumsier and scatterbrained, nearly burning dinner when you decide to keep him company. you lean against the countertop, a teasing smile on your face — the same one that that caused him to bump his forehead against the cabinet door earlier — as you prattle on about a dream you had. he can barely keep up, his eyes drifting from the skillet to your face, gliding around the curve of your cheek, dipping lower in a slow descent along your neck.

he blinks repeatedly when he reaches your clavicle, stunned at his restraint; and it’s only when you call his name loudly that he realizes he’s left the heat on for too long.

“are you okay?” you ask when you see that he’s fussing over how best to save the dish, mouth moving as he quietly mutters to himself. he barely registers your voice, as an insidious one whispers harshly into his ears about his perpetual incompetence and lack of talent.

you can see that he’s retreated even further into his mind, a feat that also leaves you frustrated. you want to shake him but refrain and grab his hand instead. he snaps out of whatever stupor that held him captive just moments ago, lips parting as he sighs softly before glancing down at you.

“thank you.”

the words are quiet, but impactful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get them out. you let go of his hand too soon, but he doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on cooking than embarrassing himself again in front of you.

you take his silence as a silent dismissal, but you don’t fight him on it — it’s bitter, that sort of rejection, and you swallow back your argument with great difficulty.

STEP 03:

what’s the difference between cowardice and self-preservation? —

frustration bubbles underneath his skin when he can’t find where he placed his lighter; he runs a hand through his hair and tugs on impulse, accidentally ripping a few strands from his scalp. they swirl and tumble onto the ground, pathetic in a way — just like me, but he never really says that out loud. he doesn’t hear your footsteps, although you did your best to remain as quiet as possible.

a cigarette sits in between his lips, and he has half a mind to toss it over the railing of the ship, but a warmth suddenly appears in front of him in the form of a flame. you found his lighter on the floor earlier and meant to give it to him, but every time you got closer, he found every excuse to leave. you don’t realize the impact you have on him — not really, anyway — because he’s genuinely surprised that you can’t hear the heavy beats of his heart that grow more intolerable the longer he hangs around you.

always afraid of being found out, he opts to keep his distance. it’s easier this way, he tells himself, better. but he doesn’t quite believe that; the evidence is plain as day when his tongue feels like its grown three sizes in the span of seconds, where his words get lost and forgotten. it’s all your fault, he reasons; you who insists on talking candidly with him, who insists on listening to him ramble about his dreams, who absolutely insists on stubbornly tearing down his walls, steadily chipping away without a care in the world. he looks at you as if you are the source of all his problems, but he also looks at you as if you’re the solution.

the intensity behind his stare makes your hands tremble slightly, it’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep yourself composed for this long. you light the end of his cigarette with ease, as if you’ve done this for him hundreds of times —and place the lighter into his pants pocket afterwards. if he wasn’t so used to you getting in his personal space all the time, he’d retreat immediately. the proximity is almost too much for him, but he doesn’t step back; you take that as a good sign and keep him company for a few minutes.

you don’t care for the smell of smoke, but on him it smells good. you almost tell him that, but instead bite down on your lip and keep your comment at bay, nerves getting the best of you as you nearly choke on the possibility that your feelings won’t be reciprocated.

another time, maybe. cheeks flushed, you turn your face to look elsewhere. although, you wonder if there ever will be another time. with him, you never know.

he’s still trying to figure you out and why he feels a different sort of calm around you; it’s alarming and new, drumming up an irrational fear within him. he doesn’t think he’s deserving of your attention or affection, and he’s convinced himself that you don’t harbor any romantic feelings for him. and why would you?

one by one, his thoughts pummel into him, acerbic and overwhelming. he exhales a sliver of smoke and puts the cigarette out. he gives you a quick, apologetic look before telling you goodnight, the smile on his face is melancholic and barely existent. you don’t dare say a word, keep your lips pressed together stubbornly; exasperated and dejected, you don’t know what’s worse — his inability to lower his guard around you for longer than ten minutes, or your inability to stop yourself from trying to carve pieces of yourself to give to him.

maybe if you helped him fill the gaping holes in his heart, he’d truly understand how you feel.

STEP 04:

if you had to do it all over again, would you do anything differently? —

sleep evades you after that night, and the night after that, and so forth; it gets so bad that you’re yawning in the middle of the day, falling asleep before you can have a cup of coffee or tea. this does not go unnoticed by the others, and after talking with nami, you feel less out of your element and finally can see the parts of sanji that he wants to keep hidden. her advice is simple: approach slowly and with intent; corner him and don’t let him escape.

you bide your time, full confident that you can find a moment to sit down with him and talk this all out. it doesn’t come easy, but franky mysteriously swaps sanji for the night’s watch — something that should strike you as odd, but it’s a small opening that you take without thinking as you hurriedly climb up to the crow’s nest with a renewed sort of energy.

even with his eyes closed, as he sits lazily on the bench with head tilted back against the wall, he knows it’s you.

“go back to bed,” he says firmly, refusing to look at you.

your stubbornness, unfortunately, wins out. “i’m staying.” at that he sits up, his attention completely on you as his eyes widen at your words. he wants to ask you why, but cowardice wins out — again. as his features soften, a flush crawls along his face, lightly painting his cheeks pink. he closes his eyes again, tries to steady his breathing as he counts backwards, only for his efforts to be obliterated with ease the moment you sit next to him.

as your thigh presses against his, you take his hand and on impulse you trace your fingertip along the lines on his palm. he watches you with a morbid fascination that scares him; but then you start to say things like, “you will live a very long life,” and “you are courageous, and you have a big heart.”

a small part of him wants to pull his hand away, so you won’t say anything else — but he remains put, so still that you almost think he’s stopped breathing. your voice is sweet and disarming, even when you carry on this charade of reading his palm. a belated realization hits him forcefully, making him blink several times; it dawns on him that you’ve always been so kind and gentle with him, even when you teased him. he’s spent all this time overthinking and hiding behind his past, that it never occurred to him that he could have simply let you in. you’ve never given him reason to believe that you’d betray or harm him intentionally.

he takes a deep breath, voice a little uneven, “i—”

you lean in close, adoration dripping onto your words as you interrupt him. “hey, have i told you?” the question glides along his skin, the words seeping into him as you continue, the lilt in your voice a honeyed, melodic spell. “you remind me of starlight and the mysteries of space.” your lips brush against his when you tell him that, and a warmth settles into the middle of his chest, makes it hard to focus. he doesn’t think when he curls his fingers around yours and doesn’t think when heleans down to kiss you — tender yet electrifying all the same.

the move disarms you in a way that doesn’t quite make sense to you, so you simply hum in approval and lean your head against his shoulder. a comfortable silence settles around you both, but you don’t mind that at all; it’s nice, not having to tip-toe around him anymore, and the demons that plagued him for so long don’t seem so intimidating with you by his side.

#fic request #milestone event #500+ followers event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event🧁✨🍭#one piece angst #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji angst #sanji fluff #i love sanji a normal amt as u can tell

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