#he's slavic he knew better

[ainosgarden]

How else could you explain his hand feeding the audience? How words came out like canaries, summer fruit in the dead of winter? They were all in love with him. He had that effect on everyone.

Lestat as Harlequin in style of Art Nouveau theatrical poster

[sansaorgana]

— QUICK LEARNERS

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You're sent to Giedi Prime to marry your distant cousin and become the new Na-Baroness. However, your new husband seems to ignore you. You come up with an idea how to gain his attention and you ask one of the Generals from your homeworld to teach you how to wield a blade.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — While writing my fanfic "Forbidden Fruit" I was inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures creating the Reader's homeworld. This time I was inspired by my own Slavic culture but as usual – the physical appearance of the Reader is not described. 💘 I really like coming up with all these new planets! Also, I decided it makes sense for the world inspired by the Slavic culture to be related to The Harkonnens, therefore Feyd and Reader are cousins but they're distantly related (as most noble people are, I guess).

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood – the Reader is injured, slight incest (distant cousins), SMUT, oral, hints of breeding kink, Feyd is a bit ooc in my opinion but... so what? he's cute 🤪

WORD COUNT — 7,840

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

QUICK LEARNERS

Your father, The Tsar, worked very hard to make this union happen. Baron Harkonnen had wanted his heir and nephew to marry one of The Emperor’s daughters but your father’s relentless visits, letters and arguments finally worked.

Your family was cousins with The Harkonnen bloodline. You were more used to their culture and you shared similar values. Of course your house was not as important as The Harkonnens. In fact, your planet was under The Harkonnen rule and your father only governed it in their name although his family had been allowed to keep their titles.

Giedi Prime was an industrial planet without any nature which was the opposite of your homeworld. Morana was mostly dark green – a never ending forest full of valuable resources. Sadly, most of them were being transported to Giedi Prime for nearly nothing in return. Your father was determined for The Baron to make it up to your people for all the centuries of colonisation and turn their Grand Duchess into The Harkonnen Baroness.

Your home world was supplying Giedi Prime with important raw materials and fearsome warriors that were known all over the galaxy as ruthless beasts in combat. Growing up in such an environment, you would easily adapt to Giedi Prime even though it lacked the greenery completely. You would make a much better Baroness than any spoiled daughter of The Emperor. Those were your father’s arguments at least.

So, you were sent to Giedi Prime with dozens of heavy wooden chests filled with your most precious belongings. Everything you loved, everything that was defining you – it had to fit in these boxes. You couldn’t take the forests with you nor the rivers, the songs of your people, the smile of your mother, the warmth of the fireplace. All you could take were the dresses and jewels, a few books. And a burden of the realisation how big responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. To make your parents proud and to become a good na-baroness… and then Baroness. To give heirs.

You knew Feyd-Rautha from all the official ceremonies. You had never talked to him before, he would only greet you with a head nod and a word cousin in his low, raspy voice that was sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. A few times before you had watched him fight in the arena. He was an incredible warrior but his combats were for show which was disappointing for a woman from Morana – a planet known for its art of warfare.

You weren’t scared of him and you weren’t taken aback by his Harkonnen nature nor looks. You were used to The Harkonnens visiting your planet or you visiting theirs with your parents for official events and celebrations. However, you were not pleased with this union either. He didn’t seem to be a pleasant man and you didn’t like the responsibility that came with this marriage.

Your wedding was grand. Every governor and leader of the planet under The Harkonnen rule was invited. Your dress was white, decorated with traditional red embroidery of your people. On your head there was a flower crown made out of flowers that grew on Morana. But seeing all the people around you, you quickly realised it probably was the last time you’d wear something white. No one around was wearing any colour except for black. The only white clothes you could see were the ones of the servants.

The wedding party was a display of power and violence but it wouldn’t make a girl from your planet flinch. You focused on the cake and tried to remember all the advice your mother had given to you regarding your upcoming wedding night.

She had been straightforward with you. A strong Tsarina like her would never hesitate or shy away. She had told you it would be best if you took your husband from behind so you wouldn’t have to look into his face. And she had made it clear that the marriage should be consummated. No matter how much it would hurt.

You observed your new husband with the corner of your eye but he looked the same as his wedding kiss had felt – bored and unimpressed. Cold.

Around midnight he stood up to leave the table without making any announcements. Panicked, you glanced at your new servant girls and they nodded at you. So, you stood up as well and gathered the fabric of your dress to lift it gently and follow him down the corridor.

He walked fast, you could barely catch up. His silence was heavy between you two. After all, you were his wife now – you were supposed to share a life together – but he chose to treat you like air instead.

When the doors leading to his chambers opened, you entered them right after your new husband. That was when he turned around as if he was surprised. He looked you up and down with contempt and you realised that he had not been pleased with this union.

Perhaps because you were not The Emperor’s daughter. Perhaps he wasn’t finding you attractive enough.

“Cousin,” he drawled as usual.

“Can you not call me that anymore?” You sighed.

“Wife,” you swore there was a shadow of a smirk on his face. But he didn’t say anything else and you felt helpless. You didn’t know how to talk to him.

You tried to remember your mother’s words. You weren’t there to have conversations with him.

“Husband,” you nodded your head at him and he watched with tilted head as you approached his huge black bed and bent over.

“What are you doing?” He snorted at you.

You couldn’t understand. You furrowed your brows and turned your head around. His sneering facial expression embarrassed you but you stayed in your position.

“Would you rather take me the other way around? I didn’t expect you to be a romantic,” you commented.

“I do not intend to take you at all,” Feyd shook his head. “I’m going to sleep. You do whatever,” he shrugged his arms and began to undress.

Clumsily, you straightened yourself and smoothed out the wrinkles of your dress. Once he was in his underwear, without a word he got under the cover and ignored you completely.

You watched in shock as he began to drift off to the land of dreams. You had no idea what to do. Not only you had humiliated yourself but also you had failed to consummate the marriage.

You crouched down and picked up all the pieces of clothing he had scattered all over the floor. Like a dutiful wife already, you folded them neatly and put them away on the chair by his desk. Then you removed the flower crown and your dress, thanking all the gods above that it was not a complicated piece because you had no idea how you’d manage to do that without your servants’ help. You tried to be as quiet as possible while doing that, not wanting to wake Feyd up and cause his anger.

Once you were in your linen underdress, you decided to just join him in the huge bed and go to sleep as well. You were laying as far away from him as possible as you didn’t want to bother him. It was no easy task because he decided to sleep right in the middle of it like he had forgotten already that he was married now and had to share.

You didn’t understand the situation you had found yourself in. When the small orb of light by your bedside turned off, you stared at the pitch black room as all your limbs tensed. You could hear Feyd’s soft snores and the distant sounds of your wedding party, the firework splashes of white ink in the night sky. Yet, you – the bride and the new na-baroness – just laid on the edge of the bed, feeling lonely and humiliated.

The weeks passed and you remained Feyd’s wife by name only. You shared your chambers with him but he was always awake before you and in the evening you were often asleep by the time he would join you in bed. There were days when you weren’t seeing each other at all. He was busy with training for his fights but also with fucking his concubines. You had found out about all of them from your servant girls.

The most important ones were three scary cannibalistic harpies. The servants were terrified of them because they could end up as their meal any time. There were also other women in your husband’s life but they were regular pleasure slaves and they did not matter as much. With his harpies he seemed to share some sort of bond.

Of course. Now it made sense. How could you even compare to such creatures? However, you did not even want to. You just hoped Feyd would finally be reminded – by his uncle or the medic – that he had to fulfil his duties and produce an heir.

You felt lonely and rejected. Your duties were not many and you quickly realised that most of them were nothing but a show off – just like your husband’s fights in the arena. It was probably because you were a woman and a new addition to the family. The Baron would never actually put you in charge of anything important.

Your only companions were your servant girls. You grew attached to them but they were no friends. Not because you thought of them as less but because of their timid personality. They were terrified of The Harkonnens and they were often trembling whenever they spotted your annoyance. Such a dynamic could not be a base of any real valuable friendship although your heart was breaking for them.

They had told you that the people of Giedi Prime liked you. You were not like your husband nor his family and you looked different because of the pigment of your skin and your hair. Sometimes, to your new black Harkonnen attire you would add a jewellery or a flower crown from your homeworld. The citizens of Giedi Prime adored the additional splash of colour. You expected Feyd-Rautha to scold you for that but he did not. He seemed not to care at all about you and what you were doing.

You had tried everything to get his attention and to seduce him. You had started to wear more revealing nightgowns to bed but he would ignore you. You had walked in on him taking a bath on purpose – pretending it was an accident. He hadn’t even flinched.

You had been asking him things about Giedi Prime and The Harkonnen history – making a fool of yourself by asking him things you had known already. He would always answer dryly and coldly; often without even sparing you a glance. Then he would go on ignoring you.

You had tried to move closer to him in bed at night. Pretending to be asleep, you had adjusted your body slowly until your arms touched. He had woken up abruptly and moved aside, stealing the blanket.

You nearly gave up but there was one more idea you were thinking of. You wanted to share a hobby with your husband. It could not be sex because he refused to touch you, which made you feel so unattractive that you didn’t even think of flirting with other men to cause his jealousy. His coldness made you feel ugly.

No, his other hobby was the blade. And you sometimes observed his training and they always made you miss your home. On Morana the warriors would train day and night just like him. You had often observed them with your father as he was telling you grand stories. And perhaps you were a lady, but you were your people’s Grand Duchess and you could handle the blade. Or so you had thought.

You found one of the generals of The Harkonnen army who was from your homeworld. He looked different than the rest of them because of his longer, braided hair and tattoos on his face that were your people’s spiritual symbols. However, like most of the important military men from your homeworld, he had been sent to Giedi Prime as a young boy to be trained under The Harkonnens. Such boys were some sort of a tribute in the same way your natural resources were. All those years spent under the black sun had made his natural skin colour a few tones paler. But amongst The Harkonnens he still looked the healthiest.

“General Bohumil,” you approached him one day after watching him train with other soldiers. He was putting his blades away as he raised an eyebrow at you, surprised to see you wandering around this part of the fortress.

“Slava, Grand Duchess (Y/L/N), My Lady Na-Baroness Harkonnen,” he bowed down. You smiled at the way he addressed you as it brought back memories of your homeworld where you were addressed as The Grand Duchess and with the word slava meaning glory as a sign of respect. “What brings you here, My Lady?” He asked.

“I was wondering if you’d find some time for me,” you began, a little nervously as he furrowed his brows. “To train me.”

“Train you, na-baroness?” General Bohumil hesitated. He was looking for the right words not to insult you in any way. “What does your husband think of such an idea, my Lady?”

“I don’t think he cares about what I do at all,” you admitted honestly with a shrug of your arms.

He would never say that but you could see the look in his eyes. You were a spoiled and bored noble lady in his eyes and he’d only waste his precious time on you. However, he was too scared to say no. Your question was not a proposition, it was an order. That was the way of The Harkonnens and that was the way your father ruled on Morana, too.

“Alright, my Lady. I can show you the basics,” he nodded. “We can start tomorrow. But I warn you, you can bruise or hurt yourself,” he added.

“I am aware. Those are natural consequences of a combat, General,” you smiled at him. “I will find you tomorrow,” you nodded and went back to your quarters, very pleased with yourself.

The first week of your trainings – and you had insisted on them to take place every day – General Bohumil was only making you stretch and prepare your muscles for the future extortion. No whining about it could cause him to change his mind. But after the first week you were finally given a blade to hold. It was quite short and light but very swift to move. The handle was wooden with your people’s spiritual symbols engraved on it. It was a traditional blade of the warriors from Morana and it made you feel so proud to be your father’s daughter to wield it. It made you feel as if you were home again.

You were also given a shield-like device that would protect you from hurting yourself or from the General hurting you in an accident. You noticed that he wore one, too, probably expecting you to clumsily wave the blade around and possibly cause some harm with it.

“Repeat the sentences after me, my Lady,” General Bohumil began to show you the most basic moves. You nearly rolled your eyes at how easy they seemed to be but you wanted to be an obedient student and to prove to him that you were not just a bored noble lady. You really wanted to learn.

He corrected your posture and the position of your feet as he lifted your elbow and then he began to show you the same sequence again.

You had many traits that were considered to be positive – it could be seen now, in the way you obediently performed your duties, how you desperately tried to make your marriage work and keep both of the families proud. You cared about your family’s honour, you were aware of the responsibility placed upon you. You would never sabotage your union; you were loyal and proud.

But you also possessed some traits that were considered to be negative – impatience was one of them. You didn’t want to keep repeating the same basic sequence a million times all over again, feeling like a child with a toy sword. You wanted to feel the adrenaline already like your husband when you watched him in combat or the warriors on your planet. Not listening to General Bohumil’s warnings, you started to spice up the sequence with the moves you had only seen in the gladiator arena before.

“My Lady, please, that is too advanced. We will get to it in the right time,” he sighed, trying his best to contain his anger. As a military man he was all about discipline and if you were a common soldier, he would lash out at you, you were sure of that. But you were his Grand Duchess and his Na-Baroness and he couldn’t even scold you. He could only calmly try to explain.

But you wouldn’t impress Feyd with the basic combat moves. You were sure that if he caught you now, he would laugh with contempt. No, you had to be better than that. And you hated to wait.

“This stupid shield,” you turned the device off as General’s eyes widened, “it’s distorting my view,” you whined.

“My Lady, please, turn it back on,” he pleaded. “Your eyes will get used to it after a few weeks of training, I can assure you of that.”

“A few weeks?!” You sneered. “When you talk to me using such long amounts of time, I get discouraged already. You think I’m not good enough to master this art faster than that?”

“It’s not about your personal skills, na-baroness, I assure you. Every man needs time to get better,” he swallowed thickly as he watched you play with the knife in your hand. “Please, turn the shield back on.”

Like a spoiled child, encouraged by the fact that your little hand tricks with the knife came easy to you, you took a step ahead and attacked him. In one swift movement he defended himself as he crossed his knife with yours but you could feel he was not using his full force.

You tried one of the tricks you had seen while observing the fights and you tried to quickly take a step back and attack him once again but straight into his ribcage this time. However, you were not experienced enough to try such a move and the knife clumsily slid through your hand. You hissed out of pain as it sliced through the leather fabric of your pants and through the tender flesh of your thigh.

The General’s eyes widened as he turned his shield device off and approached you quickly. You were in so much pain, you were gritting your teeth but you refused to let out a scream or to sit down. You didn’t want him to see you like this although the tears were already pricking your eyes and you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your leg.

“Na-Baroness!” There was a worry in his voice but he used a scolding tone, not being able to hold himself back anymore.

“Don’t even mention it. I know,” you drawled through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault, I know.”

He nodded his head, relieved that you were not blaming your injury on him.

“You’re hurt, my Lady. Let me escort you to the medical wing,” he insisted.

“No, thank you. I will go there myself,” you told him. “I will be back when it’s healed,” you added and limped out of the door as quickly as your pain allowed you, too.

You wanted to be alone so you could finally start crying out of pain, although you made sure to do it quietly. You were thankful that the medical wing was close to the training section of the fortress for strategic reasons.

Your servant girls had picked you up from the medical wing. They had been looking at you as if you were crazy but they hadn’t dared to say a word. Your thigh was now disinfected and bandaged and your servants helped you to change into a nightgown as they recommended you to go to bed earlier than usual and get rest. They left you alone in your chamber and assured that they would be nearby if you needed them.

But you weren’t sleepy. You felt ashamed and humiliated as you kept overthinking your stupid behaviour. You knew one thing only – you didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to find out about this accident. He would think of you as weak and foolish… and he wouldn’t be wrong.

You were laying on the bed and reading a book, making sure that your leg was covered by both your nightgown and the duvet. When Feyd entered the bedroom – earlier than usual – you started to suspect he had found out about your accident and wanted to see with his own eyes. You pretended not to pay any attention to him but you watched him from the corner of your eye as you struggled to focus on the book. He sat by his desk and sighed while reading some letters that had been placed there in the morning and you realised it was his time to perform his na-baron duties as he was supposed to deal with the paperwork. He hated this.

Knowing that he was already angry at the fact that he had to answer the letters, you were trying not to bother him at all and you controlled your own breath so it wouldn’t be too loud. On the other hand, you had to admit that Feyd-Rautha had never aimed his anger at you… so far. You had known about his nature before and although you were not scared of him, you had expected him to get violent at times. That had never happened, though. 

Sometimes you wished it had. Because at least he’d react anyway to your presence instead of treating you like air.

Deep in your thoughts, you lost your focus and dropped your book with a loud thump sound on the floor. You froze and glanced at your husband’s shoulders. He stiffened and you quickly leaned in to grab the book, forgetting completely about your new injury as the duvet and your nightgown pulled up and revealed your bandage.

Once you straightened your back with the book in your hand, you noticed the exposed thigh and quickly covered it, hoping that Feyd had not seen it. You looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him staring at you intensely.

“What is it?” He asked with squinted eyes.

He talked to you so rarely that you nearly startled at the harsh and unpleasant sound of his raspy voice. You wondered if you’d ever get used to it.

“This? A book, dear husband. Something about the politics,” you chuckled nervously as you waved your hand, playing a fool.

Feyd stood up and approached the bed as you watched with terror in your eyes. He aggressively tossed the duvet aside and your skin got covered with goosebumps. He lifted up the hem of your nightgown and you hated to admit how electrifying his fingertips felt on your thigh. He had never touched you like that before.

“Who hurt you?” He asked after seeing the bandage again. His cold eyes stared into yours with a burning gaze.

“What do you care?” You asked and shrugged your arms. “It’s nothing,” you assured. “An accident.”

“I care,” he assured you but without any delicacy. “As your husband I am responsible for taking care of you and your honour,” he pointed out. “And as my wife you are my property. Whoever raises their hand on you, raises their hand on me and the Baronship,” he added.

“I did it to myself,” you bit on your lower lip and he tilted his head, visibly in disbelief. “If you paid more attention to me, you’d find out more things about me and you’d know by now that I tend to be clumsy sometimes,” you hissed at him and tried to cover your thigh again but he kept his hand there.

“I do pay attention to you,” he stated. “I observe you. I know when you’re lying,” he clenched his jaw. “Why are you defending the person who hurt you?”

“I’m not lying,” you protested.

“But you’re hiding something from me,” Feyd was relentless.

“Then we are only fair,” you put the book down as you looked at him angrily. “Your whole life is a secret kept away from me. Can’t I have mine?”

“Women on Giedi Prime do not have the same freedom as women on your planet do,” your husband reminded you. “A wife belongs to her husband in a way he will never belong to her.”

“What a relief then that I am not your wife,” you raised an eyebrow and he pursed his lips as he gave you a questioning look. “Because you have not consummated the union and refused so far to perform your duty and secure our bloodline.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Feyd snorted and looked away. “Stupid woman.”

“I do realise I am a disappointment to you. I am not one of the Imperial Princesses and I am not as interesting as your concubines. Not important enough, not attractive enough,” you decided to finally take your chance and tell him everything you had been feeling lately since it was the first opportunity to have some sort of conversation with your husband. He still refused to lay his eyes on you again. “I feel lonely, abandoned and rejected. Homesick. I want to be a good wife. I want to be a good na-baroness. But you’re not even giving me a chance. Out of boredom, I asked one of the generals to teach me how to fight and I hurt myself during training. Yes, it was pathetic of me. Go on, laugh. Make fun of me,” you encouraged him ironically. “At least it will be the very first reaction from you given to me in a long time.”

“Stop it! Stop,” Feyd-Rautha barked at you as he stood up and turned his back on you. He clutched his hands on the chair by his desk.

“Does the sound of my voice repulse you, too?” You asked, angrily. Now, when you finally let all these things out, you didn’t want to stop.

“You don’t understand!” He exclaimed and turned around to look at you with so much intensity that you curled up on the bed, feeling small and vulnerable. After all, he was a strong warrior and you were only a wounded prey. Like one of the rabbits in the forests on Morana, hunted by the hound dogs.

“Then explain it to me,” you whispered. “You owe me that at least.”

“I hurt everything I touch,” Feyd’s confession was sudden and it shocked you both. After a long while of silence between you two, he continued. “Just like him. It’s what this whole family is like.”

“I thought you liked to hurt,” you pointed out.

“Not you,” he answered nearly inaudibly. It was difficult for him to confess those things. You blinked a few times in disbelief.

“Why not me?” You asked, carefully.

“You’re supposed to be my wife. But I… I don’t know how to be a husband,” he looked at you again. You could swear that his sickly pale cheeks flushed slightly. “I was never… taught,” he explained.

“I didn’t expect you to be,” you admitted. “I knew life with you would be difficult. I knew you enough to know that. But nothing could prepare me for being… ignored. Completely,” you made your own confession as your heart pounded in your chest. You moved closer to him and reached your hands out, taking his gently and he didn’t even flinch. He just allowed it to happen, so you squeezed his cold fingers. “I am sorry I am not the wife you wanted.”

“It is not about that,” Feyd looked into your eyes. “And I do not ignore you. I let you be here. Sleep in my bed.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that was already a sign of affection,” you rolled your eyes.

“Protection,” he fixed you. “I don’t trust anyone here. They all work for my uncle,” he lowered his voice. “And as my wife, you are under my protection. If you want to learn how to fight,” he sighed and let go of your hands to sit on the edge of the bed again and reveal your bandaged thigh, “although I do not approve of that, from now on, it will be me training you. Do you understand? I don’t want any other man to teach you. I would never let this happen,” his fingertips brushed on your bandage and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

“I understand,” you nodded, trying not to smile too widely. Not exactly how you had imagined it but your plan to get your husband’s attention seemed to be working.

Feyd looked at your face again as his hand caressed your hair and cheek. You got startled at that at first but then you relaxed under his touch.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how to act around… a wife,” he admitted. “All I know is that she should not be treated like a common concubine.”

“So that is why you prefer to be around them. Because at least you know what to do,” you pointed out and he nodded. “You could have told me that.”

He laughed at your words, grinning with that black smile of his. It made you chuckle, too, as you realised how stupid your words were.

“That’s right. The Harkonnens don’t talk about their feelings,” you guessed.

“Our what?” Feyd squinted his eyes at you as his face became serious again. “I don’t know anything about the arrangement between your father and my uncle. But the way you acted on our first night together, it made me realise you are not here by your own will. It brings me pleasure when my concubines fear me but I do not wish for my wife to be scared.”

“I’m not scared of you, Feyd-Rautha,” you assured him. “I have never been.”

He looked a little surprised by your confession.

“You admired me then,” he seemed to be proud of himself.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” you cooled down his enthusiasm. “You annoyed me,” you explained and he gave you a scolding look. However, he was more disappointed than angry. “You’re a spoiled Harkonnen brat.”

“Look who’s talking. Like you’re not a spoiled little noble lady who decided she wants to learn how to wield a knife out of boredom,” he pointed out.

“I know, I do not deny. Perhaps we are not a bad match at all,” you giggled and his eyes sparkled again. “I’m not used to warriors cheating in the arena, you know.”

“He says it is not the time yet to show my real abilities,” Feyd explained himself quickly, a little embarrassed that you pointed out his cheating. Honour was important to him and it was his weak spot.

“In the bedroom as well?” You raised an eyebrow, surprising your own self with your boldness. “Perhaps you have not been taught about being a husband but you surely know what your main duty is.”

“You’re eager,” he smirked.

“I am not a concubine but I am a woman like they are. I have my own needs and desires. You do not make it easy, ignoring me after coming to bed late at night, smelling like fresh sweat, blood and leather,” you pointed out.

“I fuck like I fight,” he warned you as his pupils darkened. His face was now so close to yours that you felt his hot breath on your mouth and his eyelashes tickled your cheeks.

“Is that a promise?” You whispered.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he snorted at you and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You’re right. You have to show me,” you teased.

“No,” he moved back suddenly and you felt a sharp pain in your heart. He was so close… you nearly had him. “I don’t trust myself around you,” he admitted. “You will show me,” he told you as you raised your eyebrow.

“Me?” You swallowed thickly as his words.

“I’m yours,” he said. “Do whatever you wish with me. If a child is what you so badly want, to make your parents happy, to make my uncle happy,” he explained with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “then go on, explore, have fun. At your own pace.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realised that he was inviting you to initiate an intimacy between you two. You panicked as you had never expected that he’d want you to take a lead in the bedroom.

“I do not want to have a child to make anyone happy,” you fixed him. “Anyone but me. I want to secure our position on Giedi Prime,” you explained.

“So dutiful,” Feyd smirked.

“We share some values, dear husband,” you nodded and moved closer to him with a soft hiss as your injury reminded you of its presence.

“Easy, wife,” he watched you and you smirked as you put your arms around his neck.

“Are you sure you’re not doing it because you’re avoiding the paperwork?” You asked and pointed at the desk with your chin. Feyd sighed and you giggled. “I knew it,” you bit on your lower lip and sat astride him.

The first thing you did was to take off his shirt. You had observed his body many times before and the sight of his hard muscles had been the most delightful one. You tossed the shirt aside and gasped softly at your husband’s smooth pale skin. You allowed your fingertips to explore every crease, every bump, every vein and every tendon. Carefully, you leaned in and breathed in his scent as your lips softly brushed his shoulder.

His body was a work of art. Daily workouts and trainings were working miracles. He was strong and flexible. The sight alone was enough to make you feel hot. You began to feel the wetness between your legs as you allowed your fingertips to explore the upper part of his body. You tangled your legs behind his waist and moved your hands to his back, feeling the bumpy skin full of thin scars scattered all over. You had noticed them before but only now you gained the courage to ask him about them.

“Was it him?” You asked and Feyd nodded, carefully watching your reaction. But you didn’t flinch or make a disgusted face. You were sad about it. The scars were old. He had to be a young and scared boy once, tortured by his uncle to turn him into the ruthless killing machine he was now.

You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his cheek.

“Turn around,” you asked and he looked unsure. “You said I could explore and play. I want you to turn around,” you repeated and he nodded, hesitantly, before moving away softly, making sure he wouldn’t hurt your injured thigh. Then he turned his back on you and looked behind his shoulder to see what you were about to do.

You put your hands around his waist and moved closer, still caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen, you leaned in and left a trail of soft kisses up and down his scarred back. From the short conversation you managed to have with your husband you quickly realised that what Feyd-Rautha had never known in his life was tenderness. You wanted to be the first and only person to give it to him. You were his wife and that was your job.

He flinched at the feeling of your soft lips upon his scars but then he relaxed. You lowered the hands resting on his muscular chest and put them on his hips as you shyly hesitated for a while before finally placing one of your palms on his crotch. Innocently peppering his back with delicate kisses, your hand started to massage his bulge through the fabric of his pants. He groaned softly and you froze.

“Don’t stop,” he scolded you.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you took the hand away and moved back. “You told me I could do it at my own pace. I am not a concubine to order me around,” you reminded him and he turned around to face you again, surprised by your tone. “I am not a shy mouse, Feyd-Rautha. You seem to be aware that women on Morana have more rights. I was raised by a strong Tsarina.”

“Forgive me, I am still learning,” he answered with an amount of sincerity that left you speechless for a moment. As if he really tried to be a good husband.

“It’s quite alright,” you caressed his shoulder. “Lay down for me?” You encouraged and he nodded, quietly.

Feyd moved up on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and you crouched down, waiting for him to be on display for your needy hands. The fact that this terrifying warrior that nearly everyone feared seemed to be so obedient for you just because you were his wife was making you even more and more aroused.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured as you caressed his chest again. “I mean it.”

“So are you,” he confessed as he looked up at you and you shyly lowered your gaze. “I mean it,” he repeated your words.

“I haven’t felt very beautiful lately,” you admitted.

“I didn’t know,” he confessed.

You didn’t want to talk about it now. You lowered yourself to his neck and sucked on the soft skin only to soothe it with a kiss right after. You went down with your kisses, making sure to leave it upon every inch of his torso before you finally found yourself facing his crotch. His pants looked very tight at the moment. Too tight.

Shyly but curiously, you unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his underwear, watching his hard cock twitching at the feeling of your hot breath. His size impressed you but also made you anxious. You helped Feyd to get rid of his clothes completely and tossed them on the floor before leaning in again.

You grabbed his length carefully as he hissed out of pleasure, trying not to think of all the concubines he had before you – concubines who knew how to please him way better than you did. You hesitated before placing a delicate kiss on the tip.

“Be patient with me, I am only learning,” you looked up, giving him puppy eyes. He was looking down at you with darkened pupils and haze in his gaze.

“Have fun down there,” he growled and threw his head back. You giggled and went back to the soft kisses and kitten licks as your hand pumped his length.

“I’m glad you didn’t take me on our wedding night,” you admitted. “This is so much more fun,” you squeezed his tip and he bucked his hip with a grunt as you watched the black precum leaking out.

You had been educated enough by your mother, servants, medics and all the explicit books you could find in the library. You smirked and licked him clean before lowering your head and taking him as far down your throat as you were able to. You kept yourself steady by holding his muscular thighs but when you felt his cock twitching a little, you let go quickly; your drool mixed with his thick black precum leaked down your chin. Feyd looked up with an annoyed expression on his face but he didn’t say anything this time.

“We can have more fun once I’m expecting. Now we can’t waste any of that, can we?” You tilted your head and pulled your nightgown up to your hips before moving up and lining his cock with your glistening pussy. You swallowed thickly at the sight of how hard and big he was.

“Take your time,” Feyd put his hands on your hips. “It’s a lot to take,” he bragged.

“Oh, so you think I can’t handle it?” You raised an eyebrow.

Just like when it came to wielding a blade, you didn’t like being told that you couldn’t handle something. You were an impatient lady.

“I am your wife,” you reminded him as you slowly lowered yourself. The feeling of his swollen tip brushing your clit made you shiver but you bravely kept a poker face on. “I was made to take your cock and carry your children,” you added. “No matter how big it is, I’m going to take it.”

Feyd winked at you and your heart skipped a beat at that. He could be adorable at times, you had to admit. It made you happy that you could finally experience this side of him. It was worth all the pain your injury had been causing you.

You lowered yourself some more, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he tightened the squeeze on your hips, surely bruising them, too. You hissed and shut your eyes as you threw your head back.

The pain mixed with pleasure, the overwhelming fulfilment with an endless desire to feel him even deeper, to fill you even further, to make you swell and heavy with his children. When you finally sat fully on his cock, you let out a moan of his name as your walls twitched and squeezed him.

“Easy, wife, take your time,” he reminded you. His hands were keeping you down, not letting you move for a while. He was giving you time to adjust to his size and you opened your eyes to look at him below you. You gasped at the admiration on his face. All those weeks of feeling unattractive suddenly vanished from your memory.

You were a daughter of your planet. Morana was known for its fertile soil like you would be known for bearing his heirs. You were his goddess at that moment but you didn’t feel the need to be cruel towards your subject.

“I want you closer,” you breathed out and he nodded, sitting up very carefully, making sure not to hurt you. Once his back rested on the pillow behind him, you clinged to his chest and joined your lips with his in a kiss as your hips began to move slowly.

Feyd’s hands moved your hips and helped you to find the right pace and rhythm. Soon enough you were bouncing on that big cock with ease that came with desire. Feeling that you didn’t require so much of his help anymore, one of your husband’s hands moved down and rested on your bandage. His touch was unusually gentle and you moaned into his mouth, not breaking the hungry kiss even for a second.

After all those weeks of being left abandoned and touch starved, you just wanted to devour him. Nothing mattered; certainly not your wound, not the sweat, not the exhaustion. Your only goal was to chase the high that was coming.

Feeling that your movements became chaotic, Feyd cupped your face and groaned into your mouth as his own hips picked up the pace, taking control over you. You trembled and let out muffled cries of pleasure as he rutted roughly inside of you through your orgasm. Not long after you felt his thick black cum spilling deep inside of you as both of your bodies relaxed.

You broke the kiss and tried to catch your breath. Your husband wiped all the tears off of your cheeks and laid your head on his shoulder gently. You hugged his chest and cuddled him like that in silence.

“Do you remember what you promised?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “That next time you want to train, you’re coming to me.”

“Yes,” you smiled to yourself. “But I am only learning,” you added, shyly. “I don’t want you to laugh at me.”

“If you’re a quick learner with the blade like you are in the bedroom, then you will soon laugh at me,” he assured you and caressed your back as you giggled into the crook of his neck.

“You’re a quick learner, too, Feyd-Rautha,” you looked up as he looked down, confused. “How to be a husband, I mean,” you explained.

You watched the servant girls painting your husband’s beautiful body with the black war paint as you caressed your swollen bump through the fabric of your dress. They finished their job and took a few steps back with their heads kept low. One of them handed you the bowl of the black liquid and you approached him as he smiled.

You dipped your finger in the paint and drew one of the symbols of your people on his chest. He looked down, questioningly.

“And what does this one mean?” He asked.

“It ensures good favours of the gods and victory in battle,” you explained softly.

“You know that he hates it when you do that,” Feyd reminded you. Baron Harkonnen would prefer you to become a Harkonnen and give up your old ways completely instead of teaching Feyd more about your culture.

“I know,” you looked up. “That’s why I do that.”

In the beginning you had been indifferent to his uncle but the more you found out about him and the damage he had done to your husband, the more you hated him.

Feyd nodded at you and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Na-Baron, five minutes,” one of the servants reminded him of the time left.

“I will bring you the hearts of my enemies,” he cupped your face as he looked deep into your eyes while making a promise.

“I have only one enemy,” you reminded him, “and he is not in the arena today.”

Feyd nodded quietly. He put his hand on your swollen belly and caressed it.

“Take care of your mother for me for a while,” he said and you chuckled with an eye-roll.

You watched him put the last pieces of clothes and take his blades. You couldn’t wait for the day when he’d become The Baron and he wouldn’t have to do it anymore. Even though the fights were fixed, you still feared for his life. And to think you had used to find this practice unhonourable. Now you were glad that his combats were cheated.

“Slava, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you blessed him.

He turned his head around for the last time to wink at you playfully and give you his black grin.

“I’ll be right back.”

MASTERLIST

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐂]

YANDERE! SLAVIC GROOM:

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

A slavic wedding tradition where instead of the bride cuts off her hair, it is the groom that does so.

REQUESTED

𝐗 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

YANDERE! BARBARIAN:

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆

REQUESTED

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

YANDERE! 1950's! HOUSEHUSBAND:

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

It was a beginning of a new day and he will make damn sure it was just as perfect as every other one.

REQUESTED

𝐗 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐗 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄/𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

[𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐎] 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

Could you write where darling wakes up and sees 1950s husband in the middle of his morning routine and finds out hes not as neat as they thought?

YANDERE! 1920's! RICH MAN

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

He basks in the afterglow of his purchase

𝐈 𝐀𝐌 [𝐍𝐎𝐓] 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

He tries to be a better man but others seemed to be testing his limits.

YANDERE! VICTORIAN! MORTICIAN

REQUESTED

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂��𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

General headcanons/some concerning habits of his.

YANDERE! GHOST

REQUESTED

𝐁𝐎𝐎!

How about a detective/journaliest reader entering a haunted library or mental hospital or anything? Where the yandere is actually the one who ordered reader's boss to send them there? Or just knew how to pop reader's interest

YANDERE! INDUSTRIALLIST

REQUESTED

𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

YANDERE! VILLAIN!

REQUESTED

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 [𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐘]

YANDERE! SUGAR DADDY

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃

Your first meeting with him was anthing but charming. Especially when he cornered you to the point, where you know you'll have no choice but to submit.

YANDERE! MERMAN

𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

❗❗ All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites.

[tsuiioku]

ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ༉‧₊˚

featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.

author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.

but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.

But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.

You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.

His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"

You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.

"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."

Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.

Wait. He can't dream.

He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.

"Babe."

"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"

His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.

You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.

So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.

With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.

The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.

"Eat."

He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.

So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.

"Delicious, as always, моя милая."

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.

"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.

"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!

"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.

Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"

He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."

"Коля," you deadpanned. "That's too much."

He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.

For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.

"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.

"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.

You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.

"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.

You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.

"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.

"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."

моя милая = my dear коля = kolya

TAGLIST: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners

© MUSAMORA 2024— do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[97keanu]

"ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵐⁱˡˡⁱᵒⁿ

ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢʰⁱⁿᵉ"

Mob Boss!John Wick x Mob Wife!Reader

Premise: It's the early 2000s, New York City. You're 27 years old, your husband, John Wick, is the head of the Slavic crime syndicate in New York. Your father married you off to him 6 years ago, to end a feud between your families. You have been John's wife for so long, but still feel like you barely know how he feels about you. He's quiet, comes home bloody and bruised, tries to keep you out of the business even though this life is all you've ever known. Will John reveal his true feelings for you when a rival family kidnaps you and holds you for ransom?

Tags/CW: stoic and suave!john, possessive!john, predator coded!john, prey coded!reader, kidnapping in, drug use, canon violence for john wick series as well as the sopranos, smut, more tags to come in later chapters.

A/N: This is going to be a 3 part limited series, but I would love to write drabbles/imagines/one-shots for these two in the future! This chapter is mainly an intro to you and John's relationship and some shameless smut, more drama in the next chapter!

Words: 3k

Gold. Your favorite color as a child, the same color as your daddy's pinky ring, you can remember peeking at it over the old wooden poker table. Your daddy laughed along with all the other men in the room, like a language you couldn't understand, the cigar smoke bitter, but sweet like vanilla if you inhaled enough. You can see all sorts of shiny objects on the poker table. You spot a silver glinting metal of a few of the men's guns politely placed on the table. The liquor they're drinking is glinting in crystal glasses, sloshing around as the men get rowdier and more incoherent. Your eyes always come back to that ring, however. Embellishments of diamond inlaid into that honey colored metal. The only thing you liked better than the glint of gold was the flash of a diamond. And daddy's ring held both. You knew even then, no more than 6 or 7 years old, that that ring would be yours one day.  You were right.  Your husband John, gave it to you as an anniversary gift last year after killing the men who killed your father. It's big enough on you to fit on your ring or middle finger. Your dear old dad was a lot of things, most not things that you loved. The only other thing he gave you in life that you were truly grateful for was arranging a truce between feuding families and setting you up to marry John.  You had no idea who this man was, not to mention he was 20 years older than you, and was the head of New York City's Slavic crime syndicate. Along with his family being a family that rivaled yours for so long, the idea of marrying this man, the man they call 'Baba Yaga', was frightening. He was harsh when you met him. You only talked 3 times before you saw him at the altar.  When you did meet him, he was well kept, incredibly so. His hair was dark, a bit long, slicked back perfectly. His face though, that was what really sent cold shivers up your spine. He looked like a wolf, his eyes were hungry for something, you couldn't even say what for sure, but you hoped your father wasn't shepherding you as a helpless sheep into John's pasture.

You were surprised when he took your hand softly, all the edges of his face jagged and sharp like a freshly cut jewel, and pressed his lips into your hand. It was from then on that you knew, despite everything else, that he would take care of you. There was something in his kiss and his steeled eyes that promised so from the get go. 

From the moment you kissed him at the altar, you knew there was something those lips were hiding, however. They were so soft, but somewhere in your mind you couldn’t help but taste blood, coppery, metallic on those perfect lips. He looked at you then, having only seen you three times before, like he was looking at something as precious as gold. You felt coveted. 

Despite this, as the honeymoon waned, and you two began to settle in as husband and wife, you thought perhaps, maybe this could work for you two. And it did, for all intents and purposes. Over the years, you two have fallen into a routine, not one you're displeased with per se. You know this is the life you were born into, being able to be a pristine trophy inside John's luxurious apartment never bothered you. He treated you well, always kept your needs met. But he was cold, distant, especially about work. You know the business, you've known it your whole life so you have no idea why he feels the need to keep you so in the dark most of the time. He barely speaks when he comes home bloodied up, weak, ready to collapse into the couch and sleep off the night finally. You dutifully help clean his wounds, silent, but those piercing eyes of his look into yours, saying more than those lips ever did. 

Because of John's reluctance to allow you anywhere close to the business, you're surprised when he comes home one night and tells you that he'll be taking you to a party. 

"A party?" Your glossy lips utter, turning around to face John from your seat at the vanity as he enters the bedroom with the news. Quite frankly, after being married for six years and rarely leaving this apartment, you're shocked. "You never take me to parties?"

"It's important you come tonight." John says simple, stepping closer to you, and slowly beginning to take off his dark suit, going down to suspenders and a crisp white button up. He isn’t giving anything away just yet. 

"Finally decided to trade me in for someone newer?" You say, obviously joking even though you know it happens. These parties that men in the business go to, your father found six different wives at them after your mother, you know how women are treated in this world. You are seen as no more than a currency of status, and you know you’re not getting any younger. 

John, however, gets really serious. His head jerks towards you, and he has that wolf look in his eye again. He bores you down with his dark, almost black eyes, his jaw set. The fear you feel from that look is one you never wish to again. 

"Don't you ever joke about that." John finally says, but he doesn't soften. "I would never let anyone else have you."

If there's one thing you know for certain that John feels about you, it's possession. He always has been protective of you, to a fault most of the time. You feel as though he's set you in the world's most gilded cage most days, and at night he comes home and tears into your body like an animal. John was never soft. He wouldn't start to be in the bedroom. He would never push you away from cuddling after, however. He just didn't seek comfort from you the way you did him. But you were grateful he allowed you to have the comfort you craved from him, even if he was silent for most of it. If you were lucky, he may even pull an arm around you after a particularly aggressive fuck. 

Not to say either that you didn’t enjoy how he took you in the bedroom, taking everything from you but your blood. And you knew he could take that too if he pleased. The aggression, the rawness of his body against yours, you had to admit, it turned you on. He never made your feel like you were lesser in the bedroom, in fact, he could give just as much as he could take. There were many times he had you propped up on the pillows, spread for him, and he lapping at you with a fervor you could hardly stand. He would tease you relentlessly if you let him, if you didn’t grab that dark hair of his and pull him into your aching pussy while telling him what you need. Begging him for what you need. His black eyes would look up at you from where he supplied pleasures that made your head spin, as if to say ‘You see this? I give you this, do not forget that I can give you such pleasures.’

And Lord, did you know, that he could do just that. Even now, as you see him undressing for the night, you can feel yourself begin to ache with want. 

John can tell he has frightened you from how he has spoken, though. So he crosses what feels like the great expanse between you two, and he kneels in front of you, his hands on your thighs. 

“Listen, I need you to understand that you never have to worry. About anything, with me.” His eyes are not exactly soft, but they are trying, which counts for something. “These eyes are focused on one woman and one woman only, do not ever doubt that, my love.”

You couldn’t help but feel compelled to believe him. Not to mention it was one of the rare times that he told you, or at least implied, his love for you. You did find yourself questioning often what John’s idea of ‘love’ was, however. You aren’t so certain your vision of love matches his, but at least it seems as if he is true to you. You begin to feel foolish for the cracks of doubt that have been plaguing you lately, you have no reason to believe John would cheat on you other than that the other mob wives have to deal with it constantly from their spouses. John is different, you must remember that. 

You nod, a few tears coming to your eyes, and John’s large hands are there to wipe them away before you even have to wonder. 

“Do not cry, solnyshko.” He says, his voice gruff, but understanding. “I do not wish for you to be hurt.”

“I hurt from being locked away here for so long…” You don’t know why you feel brave enough to say it right now, but you do. John’s eyes suddenly look unusually pained, and he glances away, blinking as if to gather himself. 

“I know, I hope bringing you to this party will help. I just…” His hand on your cheek begins to tighten, not on you, but as if the muscles in it are desperate to grasp for something they know they must not. “I do not trust your safety for much of what I do, I…I cannot lose you.”

You don’t say anything, just look at him, on his knees for you right now, seemingly begging you to understand. It’s more than you’ve seen from him in the six years you’ve lived with him. It honestly causes a few more tears to fall, you’re not sure why seeing him this way does this to you. It means a lot to you. 

“Okay, John. I will go this party with you, glady.” You say, accepting the idea, and John seems relieved. 

“Good, now, no more tears,” He brushes the last few that have sullied your cheeks with his thumb. “Come, let’s go to bed my darling…” 

As he stands from where he knelt before you, his strong hands take your arms in them, pulling you off of the plush vanity stool, and into him. He smells like smoke and gunpowder, mixed with that expensive cologne he always wears, the one that smells like pine trees and reminds you of the woods. He gently, for once, takes you into the large, black silk bed. Once you’re settled, it’s like he is ready to make a feast of your body. He’s so primal, animalistic and ready to be drunk on your scent. You let him take you, his teeth already into your neck, leaving indents, leaving his mark on you. He goes slow this time, really lets you feel how much he wants you. It doesn’t take him long to completely undress you, his hands are swift, and they work quickly to fling the little you had on to the bedroom floor. 

You gasp when his hands decide to reach for your pussy next, and you hear him chuckle as he suckles on your breast, which are heavy with lust. 

“You’re already so wet for me, my dear…” He whispers into your skin, the biting and nibbling beginning again as soon as the words leave his lips.

His hands work like magic, starting with teasing your poor pussy. He doesn’t go for your clit right away, no, he works slowly, but deliberately around it, testing your want and your wetness. He continues to lower his bites along your body, going down further and further, saving your swelling clit for his tongue to savor. He spreads your legs roughly, your breath catching as you’re so suddenly exposed. You feel the cold air of the room against the heat between your legs, and watch as John looks over your body with nothing but pure hunger and satisfaction in his eyes. You can’t believe you ever thought he would look for someone else when he looks at you like this nearly every night. How foolish…

Before your thoughts can be taken by things that simple do not matter in this moment, John is plunging his tongue into your cunt, hungry to taste you, a low growl escaping his lips and vibrating the tender flesh there. You moan out, your legs trying to close, but a firm hand guiding your thigh back down to the bed, holding it there. You continue to squirm, your hands finally finding purchase in his tossled dark hair, and you feel as if you have found an anchor in the deepest depths of an angry sea, ready to consume you if you do not hold onto something. 

You breath hitches higher as he sucks on your hardening clit, pulling all of it to attention in his mouth and driving you mad. He continues to over stimulate you like this until you’re begging him, breathless and tossing your head back into the silk pillows, to stop, to let you go. Unfortunately, you are his prey, and he will have his way with you however he can, so while he releases your tender clit from his mouth for a moment, he is slipping two fingers inside you with a swiftness that causes you to see stars. You always forget how good he is at this, how could you ever underestimate his power to bring you to the edge like this?

John pumps his fingers inside you, working that spot that drives you crazy, and you can barely speak coherently. He loves making you such a mess for him, a wordless, breathless mess that tangles in John’s sheets. 

John allows you to get closer and closer like this, and just when you’re screaming out his name, finding some words that convey how close you are, how you’re so ready, does he slip his fingers out from inside of you. The whine you let out from this surprises you, even makes you blush from embarrassment. You can’t believe how badly he makes you want him.

John lifts himself to his knees, freeing his cock from his tight pants, and you’re always taken back from how long and girthy it is. You know you can take his cock, you have many times before, but you know how much it stretches you out anyways. Your stomach is in knots from how full you wish to be of him. John can see the hunger in your eyes and wastes no time, grabbing your thighs and pulling you close in one fell manuever. He lines himself up with you, then wets his cock with your juices so he can slide into you easily. He always makes sure not to rut into you dry, he wants you soaking for him at all times during this. 

John finally gives you what you want, your moan loud enough that you don’t doubt the neighbors know what this man does to you. His cock slips in so perfectly, going deeper and deeper, inch by inch, until he is at his limit inside you, your pussy completely full of him. You reach out to pull him close to you, but John stops you. 

“I want to see you touch yourself for me, darling. I need to see your face when you cum on my cock…” He is so instructional, so demanding. You know you have to give him what he wants. 

You stay laid on your back, while John keeps up on his knees, still so deep inside of you. You work your hand down to your clit, your other hand grasping at your own breast with desperation for something to hold onto. You can’t help it, you’re already losing yourself, your hands working and your moans giving a show for John. You know he loves when you really let yourself feel it, and you can feel yourself tighten around his cock as it pumps into you from how good you are feeling. 

As John continues, you look up at him, your eyebrows drawn and your face so close to ecstasy, your body so tight and close to giving you the release you desperately need. You know John's close too, his face turning from one of someone so focused on their partner's pleasure, to someone who can barely keep their eyes open from how good it feels. The thought that somehow, right now, you have a small bit of power over him, turns you on. The fact that it's your pussy that makes him devolve into a mess of breaths and soft groans is so satisfying you can feel yourself start to cum. That's all it takes for John to join you, his cock twitching and full, going deeper into you with each long thrust as you both finish together. You can feel the rush of heat as he delivers his pleasure unto you. 

John collapses beside you, spent. You move, your body sore where John held your legs open for so long. You find your way onto his sweaty chest, laying your head down onto his defined chest muscles. John wraps an arm around you, his hand gently, so slowly, petting your hair. You know he isn't the super affectionate type, but you also know that you've been together long enough that your husband cannot refuse you on much. Especially not when the two of you can relax into each other. 

You softly close your eyes and count John's breath, trying to match yours to his. You aren't sure after what count it happened, but you fall asleep in John's arms. 

[rhey-007]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭

Daniel Ricciardo x Kubica!reader

•| social media au

Summary: Although you and Daniel swear you're just best friends, your Instagrams say otherwise and fans know better.

A/N: It's the first time I write a social media au so it might be wonky, but I tried my best. It's a little short though. Also I thought I could make the reader Robert Kubica's sister cause why not 🤷‍♀️ (He's a Polish driver who was driving for Alfa Romeo in 2021 and winner of GP Canada 2008,BMW Sauber), which makes the reader Polish (slavic). This fic will also be continued later 🤭

Part 2

*＊✿❀🍊❀✿＊*

TWITTER

•user1

I don't want to believe they're JUST friends

•user2

I know right???

•danielricciardo

👀🤭

→ •user1

NOOOO

→ •user5

is this foreshadowing???

•user3

they're so cute together enugvjuvbgdvi

•user4

I want them to be together 😭

*＊✿❀🍊❀✿＊*

INSTAGRAM

•danielricciardo

liked by y/n._.kubica., robertkubica_real, and 236,258 others

tagged: y/n._.kubica.

•danielricciardo: Polish breakfasts are the best! 😍

•user1: why does that look like y/n granny's house???

•y/n._.kubica.: grandma said you're her fav grandkid 🤭 WHAT ABOUT ME!? 😭💔

→ •user2: HE WAS IN POLLAND????

→ •robertkubica_real: AND WHAT ABOUT ME???!💔

→ •user3: he met granny Kubica??? DREAM!

→ •user5: and she called him a fav grandkid!!!

•user4: not only cute as hell but also can cook 😍

•pierregasly: why didn't you take me too??! 😭

*＊✿❀🍊❀✿＊*

INSTAGRAM

•danielricciardo

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, and 209,177 others

tagged: y/n._.kubica.

•danielricciardo: dinner time! 💞

•user6: They have to be together! •y/n._.kubica. EXPLAIN!

→ •y/n._.kubica.: 👉👈

→ •user7: why won't you just say it already??!!

•maxverstappen1: Daniel in a suit? •y/n._.kubica. how did you do that???

•pierregasly: uuuu randez-vous with •y/n._.kubica.? 😏😎

*＊✿❀🍊❀✿＊*

INSTAGRAM

•robertkubica_real

liked by y/n._.kubica., and 15,671 others

tagged: danielricciardo

•robertkubica_real: happy birthday man! couldn't wish for a better brother!

•user8: brother? he a brother already and we know nothin?!

•danielricciardo: thanks brother!!!

•user9: •y/n._.kubica. you better maxplain!

•landonorris: why was I not invited to the Wedding???

→ •danielricciardo: there was no wedding dummy... Not yet 👀

*＊✿❀🍊❀✿＊*

"Should we tell them already? "

You asked looking up at Daniel. You sat on his lap, snuggled against his chest while reading comments and blogs about you two for the past hour.

Daniel took a sip of his Heineken and changed the TV channel before responding.

"They already know"

Rolling your eyes you couldn't help a soft smile. He was right, everyone already knew about you even though your relationship wasn't official.

"Oh you know what I mean! "

You softly hit his chest which made him look down at you with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Naaah... Let them suffer a little more~"

His words made you chuckle. Well, then your fans had to wait...

[rodolfoparras]

Smh Alec you can't do that to me and say you're gonna be only Slavic man by Price's side when I exist too 😔 I'm willing to compromise and let you have him most of the time since Simon is my main husband though.

Also since I adore jealousy and possessiveness and whatnot in writing (and I'm in mood for angst) let me expand on what you wrote if I may.

Price and Nik used to date and while it was never too serious for Price, Nik still has feelings for him. And John doesn't really are it because to him Nik is just a good friend, his oldest friend and someone he (platonically) loves and trusts. But you know.

It almost becomes competition of sorts between you and Nik. Sure John loves you far more than he ever loved Nik but Nik knows him better and he isn't afraid to show it.

He knows about this one band John loves that you never even heard of and he buys John their record. He knows about that one niche type of tea John drinks, but only when he has a cold. He knows exactly how to fuck John so well that he blacks out for a few moments. And what hurts the most, he was John's first and he knows John in a way you feel like you will never be able to.

John is devoted to you but first love leaves a mark and by the time you met John, he was already older and mature and he knew exactly who he was as a person. Nik got to experience John in his truest and rawest, John before bitterness of war and while it shouldn't matter and it shouldn't hurt, it does.

And you know John would never cheat on you but sometimes a thought can't help but to creep in...does he miss Nikolai? Does he want him back? ...does he see Nikolai in me?

(Naturally the answer is no, he loves you because you're love of his life and he doesn't want anyone else but you don't know that since you just can't bring yourself to bring up the topic)

-🔮

🔮 anon I’m losing my fucking mind here

Thinking about you being the troublesome soldier that Price has taken under his wing.

However you’re doing everything to resit the help he’s trying to give, telling him that you’re not a charity case when he takes you in his squad, telling him that you’re not a charity case when he wants to patch you up after you got into a fight, telling him you’re not a charity case when he decides to keep you on his squad even when you mess up during a mission.

It’s inevitable to develop feelings, no matter how much you try to prevent yourself from doing it.

However you’re more than sure that he doesn’t feel the same. Who would want a kid who’s been kicked out of every squad he’s been in? Besides Price’s got a man by his side that remembers the tea he likes to drink when he’s sick, the band he likes to listen to and buys their records for him and even knows how to fuck him so good he momentarily forgets about everything that’s plaguing him.

But what you don’t see is that Price reciprocates your feelings. The tea Nik buys for him, Price makes for you when you can’t sleep at night or when you’re down with the flu. The cd Nik buys for him, Price mentions when it’s just the two of you hoping you’ll want to listen to them with him and all of a sudden Price finds himself visiting Nik less and less because all he can think about is you fucking him into the mattress.

Tension are high when you walk into the mess hall and see Nik and Price talking to each other. Price’s eyes immediately fall on you, a small smile tugging at his lips but all you can see is the way Nik’s got an arm around him, the way he’s saying something to Price that has him laughing and before you know it jealously’s brewing in the pit of your stomach

As you walk past them, Price feels the smile drop from his face, quickly noticing the nasty scratch on your face and without even thinking he pulls you towards his table.

“What happened?” He says with a hand on your cheek and you have to awkwardly balance your tray of food so you don’t drop it.

“Nothing” you grunt out, avoiding his gaze but feeling heat creep up your face, all while Nik watches with interest.

“Doesn’t look like nothing” Price snaps back, thumb pressing down onto your cheek and watching the way you wince.

“Why do you care?” You snap at the older man, wincing yourself as you hear the words leave your mouth.

However the older man easily avoids the daggers in the shape of words, already used to them.

“Was is it sergeant phillips again?” Price says “why didn’t you come to me instead”

“You were busy” you say, finally glancing at the Russian next to him.

“Nikolai” the man says, hand stretching out towards you with a smile on his face.

You grunt out something along the lines of your name before you pull your face away from the older man’s hand, muttering some excuse that you have something to do, not wanting to sit here and hear Price gush about the man he’s in love with, while the man in question is here.

“Make sure to get that patched up you hear me?” Price shouts out behind you, “or I’ll see you in my office” his words catching the attention of the other soldiers in the mess hall.

“You’re making it too obvious you know?” Nikolai says while trying to suppress his chuckle

“Shut up Nik” “ Price snaps back feeling heat creep up his face while watching you walk away.

Spitball w/ me?

[nihilizzzm]

The fellowship at the house party

tw: drinking alcohol, smoking weed and nicotine

yeah so i might be hangover again but at least it gives me dope post ideas

(disclaimer that makes it even funnier: every description is based on someone i know and i was drinking with, so yeah, call it my slavic heritage ig)

Frodo: His house, not his idea. It was available. He has a big house far away from the city centre, so loud music won’t kill anyone. He specifically said he’a never doing a big party. It happened anyway. At first he is stressed about everything, trying to save as much furniture as he can. Than he decides that fuck it and drinks some beer. At some point he doesn’t care anymore, goes to sleep. No hangover, in the morning he’s drinking coffee and watching everyone cleaning up the mess.

Merry: Very much not his house, very much his idea. Surprisingly he’s not that drunk, but his goal for the night is to get Pippin drunk as fuuuck. He looks after him tho, as much as it’s possible. He invited most of the people. The best dj, not the only one unfortunately, but definitely the most skilled one. Did spend some time in the smoking circle in the garden. Also no hangover (surprisingly v2), helps cleaning. He has his honour.

Pippin: Came to drink and so he did. No shit talking, first thing he said when he entered was ‘where’s vodka?!’. From the very beginning he knew he is gonna be the drunkest. He was not tho, this spot is reserved for someone else, but he was trying his best. Merry helped him a lot. Also he smoked a lot. Anyway right after midnight he passed out, slept under the table. Hangover in the morning, still he was satisfied with himself.

Sam: He helped Frodo decorate. Came earlier and made sandwiches. Some laughed at this idea but at the end of the night there was not a single one left. Pure soul, he doesn’t rly drink. He had like one and a half beer and that’s it. He was sitting with Frodo for the whole night and put him to sleep. In the morning he helped cleaning but most importantly he was the one telling everyone what they have to do.

Gimli: Challenged Legolas to a drinking competition. We all know how it went down. But before he was the best dancer. Ok, maybe not the best but the most committed one. Also came earlier and helped Sam with making drinks, the fancy kind (with what was available and affordable ofc). He was bitching in the morning but helped with the dishes.

Legolas: Oh boy… First of all danced with Gimli, then they fought, then he won the drinking game with him. They kissed in the process, they are in a weird situationship. After the party they started dating. After Gimli passed out he got even more drunk and got into full diva mood. Suddenly he became best friends with Boromir with who he usually is not that close. He is one of the two people who went to buy more booze in the middle of the night to the nearest petrol station. He was also the one who took the most of the photos, mostly blurry tho. Miraculously not hangover. How? Magic ig. Or maybe bc he’s the one who ate all of the sandwiches. Doesn’t clean in the morning, he sits in the kitchen with a tea and posts photos at his insta and laughs at Gimli and Boromir.

Boromir: Had a shitty week at work and with his father so he knew he’s gonna be drunk. But man- Drunk a lot, smoked a lot (he doesn’t even smoke usually??). Literally the amount of booze in his system would kill Pippin. Talking about Pippin they did drink a lot together before Pippin was out. He’s the other half of people who went to the petrol station. Why? He wanted more alcohol and Legolas said he will pay if Boromir would carry everything. They rly started getting along after certain amount if booze. He fell asleep on the couch. Aragorn gave him a bucket, he didn’t need it but in the morning he started thinking it would be better if he did. He didn’t help cleaning, he wasn’t trusting his legs well enough. He was just sitting on the couch in dark glasses and hoped for his life to get together. But Aragorn was sitting with him so it was nice.

Aragorn: Didn’t drink a lot. Smoked weed tho. He was almost all the time in the smoking garden circle with Gandalf. Than went inside to check on people and when he found out Boromir and Legolas are out of the house he lost any hope for a good ending of this night. He got so stoned that when everything was quieting down he was sitting with drunk af Boromir on the couch and started braiding his hair talking about some metaphysical shit. He also became very open about his feelings, Boromir doesn’t remember. They will work it out eventually. Until morning he was sober and made everyone electrolytes and tea. And gave Boromir the glasses. Helped with cleaning.

Gandalf: He brought weed. Didn’t even get inside, literally just sitting and smoking. In the middle of the night disappeared. In the morning texted if everyone is okay and didn’t stop asking until everyone answered. Said he’s never doing it again and that every single one of the members of the fellowship is a stupid bitch. Checked twice on Pippin. Shouted at Boromir with all capital letters for like 20 minutes. Boromir just muted the chat. He did appear on the next party anyway.

Bonus:

Faramir: Boromir specifically told him not to go, bc he feared the young one will get drunk. He didn’t. Drunk a bit, danced a lot with Eomer and Eowyn. Had fun. Boromir doesn’t know he was there and nobody will ever tell him.

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀unwelcome

⠀⠀⠀?? x witch fem!reader

genre : fantasy au?.. there's nothing particular happening

warnings : not too graphic descriptions of wounds and blood; mentions of knives, blades and daggers; reader just doesn't like men in general lol

wc : 1.3k (too little meh)

note : it's not what i usually write, but i suddenly got a thought in my head, and couldn't shake it away. it's inspired by eastern europe/slavic folklore, but it's not too obvious here

it's not stated which member it is, but i had one in my head while writing. just thought it'd be funny to keep it that way. not like the witch knows who he is, so... but i do feel like the description makes it obvious

also yep, a green banner. it looks good with pink so idc

you found him lying face down on the cold wet grass not far from your hut. intruders weren’t exactly welcome—they weren’t welcome at all—but decades ago, with the heaviest heart, you cast a spell on your domain: only those in desperate need of help could see or enter your glade. after discovering a few dead bodies over the years, though, you realized you might have set the bar for “desperate need” a little too high. still, some managed to survive long enough for you to find them—usually children or young women—so you kept it that way. but this one…

he was neither a child nor a young woman. you knew these clothes. they wouldn’t train women, wouldn’t include them. and he couldn’t be young either—he might have been older than you, a witch. you weren’t even sure if he was alive. he looked like he’d been lying there for hours, and despite his kind’s abilities, they weren’t immortal. bless the old oak.

you approached cautiously, a poisoned knife gripped in your hand, and nudged his shoulder with the tip of your shoe. no response. he didn’t move, didn’t wake, if he was alive at all. you slid the knife back into your belt—he wasn’t a threat. he didn’t seem heavy, and your usual method of disposal involved pushing bodies back into the woods for the creatures to handle. he was close enough to the woods that it wouldn’t take much effort.

your eyes flickered to the woods behind him. the darkness lingered even in the morning light. what could have happened? what kind of creature had left him—one of them—here in such desperate need that he could see and intrude upon your glade in his last minutes? you’d been too preoccupied cleaning the hut, sorting herbs and essentials, to notice anything unusual last night.

you looked back at the body at your feet. if it was something dangerous, it was better to know now than go stumbling blindly into the woods. you weren’t reckless enough for that. maybe, if you examined the body and consulted the books left behind by the witch before you, you could figure out what had done this.

it only took a few minutes to gather what you needed, despite not remembering the last time you’d examined a corpse. maybe all that cleaning wasn’t such a bad idea. you shook your head at the thought and knelt beside him, carefully arranging your instruments and potions on a cloth nearby. the ground was ice-cold even through the thick fabric of your pants. spring had barely begun, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it snowed again soon. he looked like he’d been lying there the entire night.

his face was obscured by long dark brown hair, the strands slightly tangled and matted, but clean and shiny. probably silky to touch. your hand itched to brush it aside, but you hesitated. you didn’t want to touch him. his kind… the idea of laying hands on him made your stomach turn—or so you told yourself.

you forced a sigh and slid your hands beneath his shoulder. the cold leather of his armor pressed uncomfortably against your palms, but touching his skin would be worse. you muttered curses under your breath as you heaved him onto his back. heavier than you’d expected. maybe you’d forgotten how much men could weigh.

once he was lying flat, you scooted closer, dragging your cloth of tools with you. you’d grabbed scissors to cut his clothes, but now, seeing the state of his armor, you doubted you’d need them. the discovery of his armor was unsettling in itself. it was good leather—better quality than anything you’d expect. maybe a rich school? that seemed unlikely, though.

your gaze fell to his face, and for a heartbeat, you forgot to breathe. he was beautiful. breathtaking, even. not at all what you’d expected from his kind. he looked more like a prince than… than what he was. had you ever seen someone so beautiful? you hadn’t seen many men, of course. most were already dead when you found them, and you hadn’t looked at them long enough to care. but even the women you’d seen—none of them compared to him. he looked eternal.

his face was calm and relaxed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. he was pale as marble, with no sign of life left in him. you liked when they were like this—calm, quiet, dead. the word seemed to slam into your mind, like you’d forced it there yourself. you tore your gaze away. he was a murderer. and he was dead. and you needed to know what had killed him.

the wounds were terrible. you had to look away for a moment, swallowing hard. the blood had darkened the fabric around the cuts, drying into a crusty black. washing it away would be too much of a bother, but the dead don’t complain, so you decided to just tear it away when you were done with undoing the numerous belts on his body.

you could see the edges of the wounds—dark, poisoned. this wasn’t just blood loss; the poison must have prevented the wounds from healing, spreading deeper into his body with every moment. you wondered if it had been slow and painful. had the creature been protecting itself, or had it simply been hungry after a long winter? the latter one would be much worse for you.

you started undoing the buckles on his chest, the ones that held his shoulder armor in place. your fingertips burned faintly where they brushed the metal. you paused. silver. you glanced over him again, realizing every metal piece—every plate, every chain—had been coated in a thin layer of silver. useless against beasts with fangs and claws. but useful against creatures like you. human-like ones. the ones with soft skin who might try to touch before attacking.

but silver didn’t work on you. not like that. a silver blade to the neck, perhaps, but that would kill anyone. you chuckled softly as you moved to the next buckle. they thought they were dangerous to you, his kind. and they were—alive. not like this.

as you pushed the shoulder armor aside, your eyes caught something glinting in the grass near his neck. a medallion. the chain cut across his throat, the metal nestled against his collarbone. you stopped yourself before your brain started thinking about even his neck being just as beautiful as his face. he was a man. the worst kind of man someone like you could meet. 

carefully, you reached for the medallion. the silver burned lightly against your skin as you lifted it. a fox. the medallion was a silver fox’s head with gleaming green eyes. now you could feel it gently vibrating, reacting to you. too gentle to be noticed when it was on the ground, but you could feel it now.

a fox? you frowned. you’d never heard of a school of the fox before, but once again, you’d never seen them wearing such good leather, and covering all the metal with silver seemed more like a whim than anything practical. perhaps this one served a royal house—his armor and face were certainly fine enough for that.

most of the medallions like that you saw were ugly, but the fox looked pretty. just like the owner, a tiny voice in your head added. you shook it away and tilted the medallion in your hand, thumb brushing over the fox’s forehead.

you stilled. your thumb burned, but that wasn’t the worst of it. a thin line of fire traced across your neck, mirroring the chain’s path on his skin. you froze, your breath catching in your throat.

the blade touched your neck before you even realized he’d moved. a silver dagger, edge so sharp it threatened to break the skin.

“put it down, little witch,” he murmured. his voice was low, hoarse, and weak.

and that was exactly why you preferred them dead.

[cringelordofchaos]

ok sorry. another oc.

random facts Abt him:

I actually designed him quite a while ago, when I was about ten years old in fact. they had little to no personality I just liked the design lol. while I was thinking of just abandoning him And never having to think about them ever again I... I couldn't 💔😞. I know he looks like a generic DeviantArt beginner oc but he's MY generic DeviantArt beginner oc ☹️😢

Intersex bi and demiboy

Very sensitive to cold

Always on edge (probably has some form of anxiety disorder due to a number of reasons)(mainly his dad ..)(and classmates)

Nali's friend

Pale due to never going outside lol

Either Slavic or East Asian (I forgot?). He lived in the country that he did when he was younger for a couple years but due to better job opportunities for their father they all moved to USA. His mom makes sure he knows about their culture and their food and their language tho and while he acts like he doesn't care about it he genuinely does find comfort in engaging w his culture even in subtle ways IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT

Rly close to his mom. HATES HATES HATES HATES their dad

While they like to be intimate w the people they're close to he generally is touch averse and avoids physical contact bc. Of reasons.

bad posture

Generally quiet / introverted / "a mood" / inexpressive

Blunt asf. (Thats how he got his boyfriend lol). Generally perceived as rude even when they're NOTTT

Likes cats and knows a ton of small trivia about them (also his whole personality changes when faced with a cat)

Chronic tumblr user

Has an extreme obsession with this one super specific niche obscure old anime franchise. NOBODYs heard of it. It's on their mind constantly. He's MISERABLE (he commissions Nali to make merch of it) (particularly obsessed with this ONE guy who's probably a background character.)

Likes to draw gore

Texts Nali and his boyfriend with ":3"

(tw intersexism) while they had ambiguous genitalia as an infant he was forcefully assigned as male and has an operation done on them. (Mostly bc their dad wanted it that way). He never knew about being intersex and was confused once puberty hit and his body was developing differently from other boys. They already struggled to fit with the other kids due to slight gender non conformity, nationality, sexuality and also possible autism so this just made everything more difficult and isolated them more. It wasn't until he got in a heated argument with their dad that they found out about the operation. He started doing more research on intersex and intersex variations and things started making more sense. It took him a little while to accept it as a part of himself but they don't rly talk about it that much. Due to their dad forcing what he deemed to be acceptable masculinity for so long during their childhood he sorta felt disconnected from masculinity bc his dad's idea of it and everyone else's idea of it brought them sm pain but he realized he doesn't actually mind it and still identifies as partially a boy despite what others expect of them to achieve that label. Idk if I explained any of this well sry

Oh also their parents are divorced. Though it took them a while

No siblings

Despite having a boyfriend he deals w a bit of internalized homophobia

Used to crush on Nali... It was a crush that just sorta came and went if that makes any sense. They're bestiesss

Tall ASF

Has very specific eating habits (eats exclusively fish?) so due to this he's thin and arguably a bit unhealthy

Not actually a furry/cat (I DONT THINK SO AT LEAST??), I just like drawing them that way lol

Very lazy. Avid gaymer. Discord user 😢

Heavily dislikes physical activity. Also dislikes violence (bc their dad is also physically abusive) but in a fit of rage he might unintentionally use it. His biggest fear is turning out like their dad who uses his mental health issues and anxiety as an excuse for his abuse so they try to never mention their problems to anyone ever and are paranoid they're just like him. They're not

Sometimes likes wearing skirts

Fav colour is red. Would you have guessed it ...

Experiences multiple tics, which get worse when his anxiety strikes up. In public they try their best to mask it which only makes it worse

Hates their face (:()

Barely gets any sleep so they constantly look dead

I might change their name (ok nvm I definitely will. I'm sorry to whichever alex is reading this but no)

Sort of just wants to be left alone while struggling so they don't accidentally hurt anyone else. If he messed up in a relationship they believe the best thing to do is to split up immediately. Cuz of their parents whole situation ya know.

Has a shitton of repressed anger they take out on random Roblox kids LOL

When in a genuinely traumatic situation his emotions just. Disappear. Idk how to explain it but their mind tries protecting him from any potential damage so it goes into survival mode and he practically can't feel anything.

Cat coping link?

Forced everyone he knows to watch every episode of the anime franchise there is.

Fluent in japanese

There's more but that's it for today lol

doodles ^^

[csuitebitches]

Hello~

I hope you're doing well!

May I ask you a few pieces of advice, please? Reading through your blog, I've discovered that you're Asian with Asian ancestry, and after some thoughts I've come to the conclusion you're the best person to ask. I'm Slavic woman (Eastern European) married to an Asian man (Chinese), exactly how you described, in Asia it's more a marriage between two families, meanwhile me and my husband married for love. In fact, his parents "consented" to our union, only because 1) I'm a good-looking woman 2) he was so stubborn in his feelings and argued whenever someone had something bad to say 3) I'm respectful, accommodating, and listen to my husband 4) good at cleaning, it's important to his father since he's traditional.

But sometimes, drama happens, mostly from his mother-in-law (his father's second wife), always manipulating and saying stuff as, it was better if he married a wealthy Chinese woman, someone who's good at running a business etc.

How can I stand up for myself or just manage these kinds of situations? The only solution seems to be to just take the risk, and do business, so they could finally stop finding faults. Furthermore they don't know, but I come from a wealthy family, but got disinherited by my mother for saying no to an arranged marriage.

Thank you in advance for your time, help and insight, I'm really grateful. Have a wonderful day and take care of yourself!

Hi there love. I’m sorry to read this. Asian families can truly be both a boon and a curse.

the reality is that your in laws will have an issue regardless of what you do. You could start a business, they could still have 10 horrible things to say to you. You could choose to look after your husband and your home, and they’ll still say awful things to you.

here’s what you should do in my opinion. And this advice comes straight from my mother.

my mother came from a middle class family. My father is a self made man, who made a fortune. They had an arranged marriage. My grandmother (my father’s mother) was really awful to my mother. She wouldn’t even let her touch the cutlery in the house. She had a problem with everything my mother did - with the way she raised her kids, what her career was, everything. She would bitch about my mother in front of us kids, she would say nasty things to my extended family. She told my maternal grandmother (my mum’s mum) that she was sure that if she was on her deathbed, my mother would never care for her. Maternal grandmother was SHOCKED and snapped and told her that her daughter was raised with better values.

my grandfather on the other hand, loves loves loves my mother, as though she was his own daughter. Praises her everywhere he goes. But that’s beside the point.

here’s what my mother learned.

She cannot control her mother in law. MIL is stubborn, ruthless, cunning. It all boils down to one thing - insecurity. Insecurity of never being good enough, smart enough, never was able to control my father (he left home because issues with her), and my father gave my mother the attention she deserved.

MIL was very possessive of my father. Asian Mums 90% of the time have a weird incest relationship with their sons. They cannot let their sons be happy with anyone. Your husband seems like a great guy, standing up for his wife. The support may not heal your hurt, but I’m sure it does a lot of good by having him on your side.

regardless of what she did, she knew she would be criticised anyway. So she did what she liked. She was a stay at home mom till I went to school, then she got two masters degrees, got herself involved in a business, has her own clients, has her own name. Even when she became successful, MIL still bitched about her. But you know what else happened? People began coming up to my grandparents and telling them what a wonderful person my mother is. MIL obviously couldn’t bear the criticism but FIL loved it and cherished her even more. She won her FIL’s respect. To this day he sings her praises even to me.

some fights are not worth it. MIL would sometimes antagonise her over small things, just to provoke her. My mother would simply stay calm. Eventually even the extended family realised that my mother had gone through a lot.

she remained emotionally detached with MIL, but she took care of her when she had cancer. She looked after her, proving MIL’s words (“she’ll never take care of me on my deathbed) absolutely wrong. And she did that out of kindness. She did that because SHE was a nice person, not because MIL deserved it.

do what your heart wants to do. The more you live life to gain approval from someone else - someone who may never give it to you - your life will be miserable. The only way to fight these horrible MILs is by standing up straight, being decisive, being able to say no and hold your ground. She has to respect you as her DIL, regardless of what you do. You will not earn her respect by trying to be someone you’re not.

If your FIL is more accepting towards than her - Build a relationship with the FIL. Forget about the MIL, she’s going to be jealous and awful, and I highly doubt such women ever change. Half the time, they behave in this way because that’s how THEIR MIL’s treated them. MIL’s MIL treated her awfully as well - the former was scared shitless of the latter. She repeated the same pattern with my mother, but my mum was too strong to let MIL bring her down.

If you want to be on good terms with your in laws, focus on the father. Be the daughter he never had (even if he has daughters). But do it because you WANT to, not because you HAVE to.

Such women are simply insecure. Insecure to a point where they must hurt other women because it genuinely gives them joy. Do not let her words affect you whatsoever. And do not live your life by her terms. Focus on being a good person to yourself and your husband.

[nonvaleantredeo]

~Vampire Chronicles characters doing autumn preserves~ This may sound like absolutely stupid idea, but this is a tradition in my family and don’t wanna boast but I spent all day in kitchen making tomato sauce for winter pasta and shakshuka. And through the whole cooking I can’t stop thinking of Armand cutting tomatoes, he’d like the process… Also, only pairings, coz its fun to cook not alone! So Of course we start with Marius and Armand. Their choice will be soup preserves, very convenient stuff to reduce the time you spend every day trying to get a good broth, but also the thing that you will eat first when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night with your head in his hands you've nothing more than desire to eat something. Also, for all qotd fans – soup preserves are usually made with blender so… But Marius will choose good old wooden spoon to smash tomatoes, because it’s really satisfying process, in Agatha Christie manner. In conclusion: fun stuff, need at lest two people to made, take long time, but home will smell divine and its very variable, every component goes good with every component, very alchemy-like, with a little of ancient vibe. I know, this kind of preserve isn’t traditional for both Roman and Slavic cultures, just silly headcanons and associations. Imagine them cooking and teaching each other some tricks, share the knowledge is the most Marius/Armand thing ever, as people from ancient time and early età moderna they would find interesting discovering new vegetables and its features Lestat and Louis. Oh, that duet will fall for varen’e (confiture), super delicious, sweet, a lot of syrup, soft berries, Christmas seasoning. This stuff is good for the long evenings in front of fireplace with nice dialog, and as we know, Lestat didn’t get a chance to knew it when he was little, so I like to think about him discovering the magic of evenings with tea and varen’e, that transform simple tea into fun sweet drink that warms you inside while make your life nicer. And because tis is very nostalgia bringing thing, it will resurrect the memories of first Clodia’s years into Louis mind, but, more important, the childhood, Louis wanted for her – filled with tea parties, beautiful things, love and family. I just love the idea of cozy life that coven of the articulate, especially this two would have in the trinity gate times. Re-visited their important dates in mind is always better with sweets that you can not only put in tea, but spread on a biscuit or add into cream)

[vernalloy]

🥀🕸️🍷

[oc x canon ask game]

Thank you so much for the ask!! This was a lot of fun to sit with!

🥀: favorite thing about your ship?

I know I’ve answered this question before but they make me insane so I’ll answer it again. I’m really happy that they match each other’s mental illness.

In Psycho II, Mary is surprisingly kind and empathetic toward Norman even as he poses a threat to her, but she has an upper hand in being not psychotic. Norman is always at risk of being reinstitutionalized, an experience that, while in the later films he seems willing to accept as not to hurt anyone, has clearly traumatized him. This same threat is present with Connie, but even moreso, given she was formerly his caretaker. Maureen is mentally ill— suicidal— but not delusional. Persistently, Norman is left without someone who will understand his relationship with his mother, and the thin line he walks between two worlds.

John, as stated, existed as a character before I knew Norman. I love how many parts of them intersect completely on accident— their religions, their families, their feelings on love. So too with their delusions. This isn’t to say they don’t scratch and bite— they certainly tread on each other’s realities if they want to hurt the other— but they do understand their shared paths of undeath and unreality.

🕸️ : any song that reminds you of your ship?

You already know All Rooms Cable A/C Free Coffee by The Extra Glenns for Norman’s perspective and Riches And Wonders by the Mountain Goats for John’s, but I’d also like to throw in (s)mother by Jordaan Mason & The Horse Museum.

Divorce Lawyers I Shaved My Head as a whole is a major inspiration, especially for its lyricism. It’s a concept album about “a failed marriage between two people of confused genders and identities taking place during a glandolinian war in 1990.” Despite the characters of Arcanary being cis*, the themes of dysphoria, disgust, and existence outside a heteronormative society are potent for a story about abuse, especially within the control of the family. Sexuality is foreign in a body that you cannot call your own. Also. Bird motif.

🍷: favorite thing about your oc?

This is a tricky question because there is so much that is dear to me about John, but they’re all so interconnected that I can’t exactly pick out one. Instead, I’ll talk about the trait that I’ve been thinking about the most lately, given it’s one I have the least firsthand experience with.

John is Jewish. I am not. But like my grandparents, his father was a Slavic refugee escaping an ethnoreligious genocide by going to America, where he lived in poverty. Immigrants never rest so their children can have better lives than they did, and there’s a guilt you carry for having a much better life than your parents, or their parents, and still being mentally ill.

Of course, part of the reason is the generational trauma. Any longterm stress to a community makes mental health issues such as depression, psychosis, and addiction far more likely to crop up. If you can’t control your life, you can control your family.

There’s no real conclusion here, but I hope that explains some things.

[valerieisunavailable]

Slender Brother Headcanons

These can be varied and everyone has their different opinions, but this is what vibes I get from him so--

Slender:

- Slender is blind. Sort of. While he can’t see you physically, he can see you very clearly with his mind (if that makes sense?) Like he knows where you're at and what your facial expressions are, your movements, etc., but with his mind. But nobody knows this except his brothers. (I also think this would be interesting for fanfics too)

- He does change his ties from time to time, but he rarely ever does it hardly anyone notices. He also has different colored suits, grey and dark dark blue (to wear it almost looks black). But only wears them on occasion.

- I feel like while yes, he does speak English, he can also speak Slavic languages too. (Oh to hear him speaking Russian, truly my favorite language. прекрасный. I also think it’s hilarious that people have added that he can speak German because of him constantly working and getting things done.)

- While he may seem cold-hearted, that’s not entirely the case. While he may think that he’s superior humans for obvious reasons, this doesn’t mean he necessarily despises them. Humans have done a lot of awful things, but have also made a lot of great accomplishments. They’re very creative and wise and have made various arts and literatures, And how can a bookworm hate the authors? Many of his pastas have suggested ideas to him about a multitude of things that have surprised him and consider other options.

- He has a caseload of all the pastas. Their backstory, mental illnesses, etc. He keeps this in mind always, even adding personal notes of how they respond in certain situations and ways to modify their behaviors if need be.

- If your ever finding feelings for him, trust me, he already knew before you thought of ways to show your affection or appreciation. He’s just waiting to see what things you’ll come up with, rather he’s interested or not. Your doing tons of research on his species and general and getting into chemicals naturally in the body and how their brains and organs work. But Offender is already helping you with that because he thinks it’s funny and wondering if you can actually pull it off. Trender is in the background criticizing both of you.

Splendor:

- Splendor is the way he is because he had more attachment to his mom. The others were ridiculed and tried to be forced into the mold their father were giving them. But his father seemed to give up rather early on Splendor for being too light-hearted. This also explains his rather child-like behavior. But Slender especially was forced into the mold to become successful. That doesn’t mean he isn’t jealous or doesn’t feel guilty at times. Whenever their father does come over, while he still complains at Slender, he mostly compliments him and says to him and the others that they should have done better and that they’re an embarrassment to the family name. This has lead up to multiple family fights and Offender and Trender standing up for Splendor when it does happen.

- Despite him acting happy, he is very insecure and causes him to very poorly bottle up his emotions. He tries to do what is expected of him but it never works out. He stands out more than anything and he’ll often isolate himself.

- Splendor is more lenient on humans because of how empathetic he is. Especially with getting to know some of the pastas’ backstories, he feels deeply connected with them because of what he’s been through, and what they’ve been through are as bad if not worse than what he’s had to deal with.

- Even though he generally wears the multi-color polka dotted suit and hat, that is not all that’s in his wardrobe. Oh no. He has the flamboyant hot-pink suit, he has purple suits, red suits, suits of all colors and suits with different polka-dot patterns. Not to count the amount of props and accessories he has for the suits alone-- I’m talking stop-watch clocks and everything.

- This man is also so fucking oblivious. Compliment all you want, but if your trying to show that your actually falling for the doofus, your going to have to be WAY more flirty than that. Why do you think Offender has all these extravagant ways to embarrass him? Because what your doing didn’t work for him in the first place.

Trender:

- Remember this dude is canonically gay. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he would be the dom in the situation either. While his general attitude is very intimidating, during sexual things he’s the more submissive guy. But that doesn’t me he won’t still complain or argue about things ya’ll should. And don’t think he isn’t kinky either. Some things I imagine him saying lol:

“In that position? Really? No offense, but I thought you’d be more creative.”

“Could you maybe go a little bit faster? Seriously this is kind of embarrassing.”

“ No no NO WRONG HOLE WRONG--” (They have more than two *wink*)

Then there’s just the random thoughts during intercourse:

“Do you think Kylie Jenner ever did it like this?”

“What kind of things would you think the Kardashians are into?”

- While he’s big in fashion design and will wear extravagant clothes from time to time, he does prefer more simple and cozy styles of clothing. Sometimes he likes to sit back and relax with some coffee too, you know.

- Catches onto things that others might not. These can be things that are very obvious to things that are complex and easy to miss.

- Despite being a fashion designer, he is afraid of needles. And tattoos. Anything with needles.

Offender:

- Acts like he doesn't care. He does.

- Despite being a sex addict and alcoholic, he does try to make those close to him happy.

- Has a bunch of scratch marks from gardening.

- Has, on multiple occasions, tried to get Slender drunk or high by putting things in his coffee or food. It has also, worked on multiple occasions.

- Has had multiple relationships with the pastas. Most of them have failed.

- A male stripper

- Will try any of Trender's outfits, including feminine ones. And any sexy clothes.

[ivi-ivisek]

So I had this idea in my head for a while and now I could finally draw it

A dca au about nature spirits from slavic mythology. Especially from my country

Let me present you Hejkal Sun and Vodník Moon

Hejkal Sun

can be referred as Leshy

The guardian and ruler of the forest

Commands all flora and founa in his forest

Shapeshifter - can change into any forest flora or fauna (from Europe)

Sizechanging - can be as small as a blade of grass or as tall as a tree

Vodník Moon

The guardian and ruler of the lake

Commands all flora and fauna in his lake

Shapeshifter - Can change into any aquatic or semiaquatic creature (from Europe)

In this au Sun and Moon are not brothers. They're neighbors and very good buddies, knowing each other for a very, very long time. Take care for each other, help one another to protect their lands and everything that lives in there from greedy, cruel and disrespectful humans...

That's all I'm sharing for now. I don't wanna dump all at once

Those who know something about these slavic creatures, good for you c: and those who don't, well you gotta wait... or google it

I just drop a little explanation here

Vodník is a Czech term for the water spirit. In English it's Vodyanoy or this is what I found

As for Hejkal, this one is a bit tricky because I think there probably is not any proper English term or I just didn't find any. And there is also that for some people Hejkal and Leshy are two different creatures and for others it's the same. So in this au Sun can be referred as both. I used features from both anyway

So you can use either hejkal or leshy for Sun and vodník or vodyanoy for Moon

And if you can't remember any of these then just call them tree Sun and frog Moon

Now how am I gonna call this au hhmmmm?... I think I shall call it

The tree and the frog au

Some personal notes:

Man ngl I struggled with Sun's design. With Moon I knew how I want him but with Sun... I mean since he's a shapeshifter I can literally draw him however I want and gave him countless forms and it could be considered as canon XD but I'm talking about his representative look, the look he will be seen most of the time. In the end I think I managed, for now at least

I will draw better refs for them, some other time...

[todayimgonnaplay]

Today I'm Gonna Play: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt

This game has been in my backlog for a looong while but it only took The Witcher 4 announcement to really get me intrigued and finally jump into it. Prior to this my only experience has been watching at least season 1 of the show, as well as Nightmare of the Wolf which were enjoyable, but I don't remember much of it.

Honestly, I'm not sure where to start. For a game released in the 2010s, so much of it has been held up so well that I can see why it's praised so much. The world feels so alive with its diverse cast of characters and encounters that I'm surprised I haven't seen more of this in more recent games.

One thing that stood out to me was that every quest tackled in the game didn't feel useless. Everything had a story to tell, from influential figures to peasants trying to make it through each day. The option of getting to know them felt very intimate that made me respect the job of a witcher, and Geralt's character in general (however you shape him to be). I also liked how the game had a lot of investigative elements. Getting in Geralt's head and knowing how he pieces up events really shows how good he is at his job and helps provide a bigger picture to each quest.

The story was excellent from start to finish. I won't say much to avoid spoiling, but I found it interesting how there are large-scale events occuring in the world that you slightly take part of, yet the main focus of the game is a lot more personal. Being able to play as someone that can indirectly have a lot of influence with how the world changes yet act as an everyday man doing their job was a very refreshing thing to see.

I'm also unfamiliar with Slavic folklore in general but seeing its uses in the game alongside other philosophical and social elements seen in other cultures that you scour through as you explore (especially when reading) was a really nice touch. I'd love to play more games like this that show diverse concepts and use 'more niche' cultures in games.

And for a game that has dark/mature themes like other RPGs, I was surprised to see how it tackled subjects like love and loss. I've been used to seeing games that like to focus on war/politics and social issues yet feel gritty and violent. Seeing the side effects of it was unexpected but very much welcome.

The music is also another highlight for me. A lot of the atmospheric tracks really blend well with the places you visit. I enjoyed hearing how layered the tracks are and how they blend and transition as you walk around. Battle themes are also just as great and really get me pumped when I'm fighting off monsters. I've been listening to them non-stop lately and definitely are the types of tracked I'd listen to for years to come. Though it's a shame that a lot of the tracks I like are not officially available.

My only issues would be that the combat feels quite clunky (mostly the sword fighting aspect) and is my least favourite part of the game. It feels reminiscent of Persona 4 where my depth perception keeps failing me as I'm always too far to hit. Although strong attacks are effective, they take longer than usual to wind up compared to other games, and the magic system feels awkward at times with how its set up. A faster way to change signs and potential upgrades for regenerating them would be a nice addition (although the latter could be game breaking).

Horse riding was also very clunky. Perhaps playing Red Dead Redemption 2 spoiled me, but there were way too many times where I was constantly stopped by random obstacles or ledges that it was better to just run on foot than deal with this.

Another thing that I just realized while writing this, is that the photo mode did not make it clear that using the save screenshot button doesn't remove the UI. So the majority of scenic pictures I took still have the UI in them... I wish I knew of this a lot early on (iirc Dragon's Dogma 2 or another game lets you know that the UI should be hidden to take screenshots successfully)

This genuinely has shaped up to be one of the best RPGs I've played, and even in general. I'm stoked to play the next title, especially with Ciri taking the main role!