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xinxiaogato · 1 year ago

Text

— love at first thrust

summary. as an ambassador from mondstadt, your goal was to persuade the duke of fontaine’s underwater fortress (who reportedly had a herculean physique and an absolute bakery) to agree with your plan on improving international relations. the last thing you anticipated was for him to agree to you getting his rocks off.

love interest. fem!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, 18+ content (mdni), nsfw, cursing, masturbation, voyuerism, size difference kink, cunnilingus, fingering, name calling (slut), slight orgasm denial, skin biting, almost a handjob, angst (somehow) and comfort, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, porn w plot, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fondling, rough sex, impregnation, bdsm (handcuffs), soft dom!wrio.

word count. 5,303.

note. my first time dabbling in smut… to whoever is reading this that somehow knows me irl, pls turn straight around ! you are referred to as “reader” by the way.

romance schmomance. how did anyone expect wriothesley to allocate time in his schedule for a lover while properly running the fortress of meropide? his grace was perfectly content with teasing his two tsundere subordinates, who refused to face their feelings for each other. besides, love appeared too complicated of a matter, as evidenced by the prisoners he overheard lamenting on a day-to-day basis about their marital affairs and unsuccessful endeavors in flirting.

but sigewinne thought otherwise, pestering him recommending that he seek a partner because not only would it fulfill his social needs but also satisfy his sexual urges (he scrunched up his nose every time she made that point). frankly, all the duke needed was his right hand, some lotion, and a thirty-minute break of privacy.

…so what was a pair of eyes doing from the staircase to his office, staring incredulously at him fucking his cock into his curled fist during the thirty-minute break of privacy?

keyword: privacy, meaning no one was supposed to be in his office during this time!

a few minutes earlier…

“ah, ms. reader, right this way!”

an eager guard ushered you to an imposing set of metal doors to which your house back in mondstadt paled in comparison. as the guard, who appeared to be a rookie, fumbled with the keys to the administrator’s office, you turned your attention to the rest of the surroundings that seamlessly blended together due to the lack of decor. rusting pipes ran from the bottom up in austere grandeur, and warm lights were scattered across the stronghold, illuminating the faces of the few dozen or so prisoners wandering around the open space.

although the conditions weren’t all sunshine and rainbows (literally, since the fortress is hundreds of feet under the surface), serving time in the fortress of meropide was bearable enough to the point that some convicts continued living there even after their sentences were up. this was the piece of information that piqued your interest during extensive research into the nation of justice, as access to rehabilitative programs while incarcerated had reduced the crime rate there.

thus, there you stood, prepared to present the ultimate strategy for promoting bilateral relations to the administrator of fontaine’s correctional institution. in exchange for advice from monsieur wriothesley on how to reform mondstadt’s prison system, the two neighboring countries could collaborate on an event similar to that of the “neighboring nations congenial poetry gala” between mondstadt and liyue.

it made sense since both fontaine and mondstadt were renowned for their romanticism, and the only other thing you could offer from your hometown besides poetry and artistry was… wine, which you knew wouldn’t fly. no government wanted more drunkards bumbling down their streets than they already had.

finally, the guard pushed the doors open (not without almost popping a vein) and gestured for you to enter monsieur wriothesley’s office, and once you did, you averted your gaze to the spiraling set of stairs.

however, prior to making your presence known, strange… grunting noises from the upper floor sent a shiver down your spine and planted you firmly to the ground. rapidly, your mind swirled with a million possibilities of what the source could be. although the duke was allegedly benign, he was still a warden through and through. was he personally punishing someone for their misconduct?

it frankly sounded quite painful, and you were getting worried that you came in at a bad time. after all, you did arrive an hour earlier than scheduled.

…one peek couldn’t hurt, right?

then you’ll be able to determine whether or not he needed a minute.

curiosity killed the cat, and that cat was you. because after gingerly ascending the staircase and stopping to be able to peek just above the metal floor, you chanced upon a scene that not even your wildest dreams could conjure.

the black-haired duke’s coat was popped open, with the hem of his dress shirt stuffed between his lips to muffle groan after groan that flowed past them. for several long seconds, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scars running down his neck and heaving pectorals, gleaming in a slight sheen of sweat.

and when you did manage to tear your eyes away, they instantly flitted past his abdomen (which needed its own place in a museum) to the sight of wriothesley’s large—and you meant large—appendage thrusting desperately into his calloused hand between his gargantuan thighs. a bit of precum dribbled from the tip, trailing down his length only to be pushed back up by his fingers and creating a frothy ring near the head of his cock.

you had to stifle a gasp behind your clipboard, trying to process what the hell was happening. the prison administrator and his little friend definitely needed a minute, so you quickly swiveled around to give them just that—only for the sound of his chair screeching backward to freeze you in your tracks.

“who goes there?” his voice boomed throughout the office.

shit!

your heels weren’t doing you much of a favor as you bolted down the staircase, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins overrode every inconvenience to get you to the doorway as fast as possible. however, you didn’t have the strength to budge the doors open (what were they made of? tungsten!?), and before you could even blink, wriothesley had you trapped between the only way out and his bulky figure.

“you thought you could get away?” he snarled, grabbing you by the shoulder (with the hand that was just wrapped around his dick, mind you!) to twist you around and get a good look at your face. your clipboard clattered to the floor, and you nearly screamed when his cock—which was somehow more enraged than he was—prodded against your stomach, making your insides feel like they were doing backflips.

you tried your best not to look at… it… as you spoke up to defend yourself. “sir, it isn’t what it looks like—”

“i think it’s exactly what it looks like,” he interjected angrily, thick eyebrows furrowed above a pair of piercing blue eyes. “what? did one of your fellow inmates dare you to snoop on the warden for blackmail? how many coupons did they offer? hmm?”

“inmates? coupons?” now your eyebrows were furrowed. “monsieur, if you could please let me explain!”

it took a second for wriothesley to regain his senses, and after noticing your foreign attire and trembling form, he retreated at once. “archons, i…” he stroked his face with his hand and covered his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. “i’m terribly sorry. i thought you were one of them.”

“them?”

he nodded dejectedly in response before dropping his hand to the side and meeting your eyes, but this time, it wasn’t with indignation. “yes, a group of ill-intentioned people recently formed in order to unmask my secrets…” he had to look away for a moment before continuing. “...one of them being what i do in my office during lunchtime.”

“...oh.”

“as for you…” over his broad chest, he crossed his arms that could crush watermelons with one flex (okay, maybe you were overexaggerating.) “how did you gain entry into my office? it should have been locked.”

you cleared your throat. “a guard let me in.” wriothesley parted his lips to question that, but you were already one step ahead. “he seemed new.”

the warden managed to put two and two together, and a sense of dread began consuming him from head to toe. “you’re… the envoy from mondstadt,” he realized, a taste in his mouth more bitter than the tea he oversteeped this morning. “i must say: you’re a bit early.”

you replied with a light shrug, “the cavalry is expeditious.”

“right. that’s… great.” he gave you a tight-lipped smile. “could… could you give me a minute? i would like to make myself presentable so that i can give you a proper introduction, and… again, i want to apologize for having you walk in on something so vulgar. i’ll be sure to compensate for it in any way possible.”

your original plan from the beginning was to give this man a minute, but… the longer you stood in his presence, the more aroused you felt. he was really handsome, standing many heads taller than you and practically oozing with sex appeal. the tidbits about his appearance that you heard through the grapevine in mondstadt couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. watching him jerking off earlier, there was definitely a moment when you wanted to replace his hand with your cunt.

pause.

this might be the only opportunity for you to break away from the perfect image you were constantly upholding. throughout your adolescence and young adulthood, you had trained to become a professional in your field and garnered copious experience in diplomacy so that you could obtain a high-ranking position in government. this caused you to miss out on a lot of the joys in life, including sex. that was the first time you had seen a penis in the flesh.

“did you say any way possible?” you inquired.

“of course, i’m a reasonable man. i doubt i’ll be opposed to anything during today’s negotiations.”

after a moment of hesitation, you braced yourself for an eternity’s supply of humiliation and let your last thread of sanity snap in two. you fell to your knees right in front of his throbbing member, which was still as hard as a rock.

“...then you won’t be opposed to this, right?” you murmured. in a bold move, you leaned forward to press your cheek against the side of his cock, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

wriothesley sharply inhaled through his teeth, blood rushing to his face as he took a step back. “what… what are you…!?”

but he wasn’t dumb. he knew what you were intending. however, this felt more like you were doing a favor for him when he was supposed to be doing one for you.

and do one he shall.

in one frame, you were hunkered down on the floor in front of his grace, and in the next frame, you were being carried to the second floor of the office in his sinewy arms. you were in no danger of being dropped, but you clung onto his shirt regardless, squealing your head off and flailing your legs like a feral animal, which only added to wriothesley’s amusement.

“are you regretting your decision?” he asked, his lips curled into a smug smile. “i can always stop. just say the word.”

your heart was racing at a mile a minute as he kicked a coffee table out of the way and plopped you onto the couch. when he crouched between your legs, a sheepish you batted his greedy hands away and hurriedly shoved your thighs together. “wait, i… this is escalating way too fast!” you quavered. “are we about to…” do the devil’s tango? the pickle in the jar? the train into the tunnel!?

a gruff chuckle rumbled from his chest. “you were the one who initiated it,” wriothesley pointed out with a wolfish grin. “i’m just finishing what you started, mondstadter.”

“but i just wanted to help you with your… ‘problem’!” you shot back, cheeks rivaling the red of a tomato. “why am i suddenly on the receiving end!?”

“ah, that’s where you’re wrong, because this will help me with my problem,” the duke replied, tugging your pants down your hips to reveal your drenched undergarment. you instantly convulsed and buckled your knees as he pressed his thick fingers against your clothed pussy, and when he drew them back, a string of wetness extended from your underwear to his fingertips.

remember when wriothesley convinced himself that all he needed was self-love?

fuck that.

“your grace!” you cried out as he dove forward and, with his hands anchoring your thighs, began ravaging your clit through the fabric, his tongue swirling and swiping against it ruthlessly. you had not even a millisecond to breathe as your vision blurred from tears of unmitigated satisfaction. with little strength, you reached out to wrench at his dark locks of hair, which only spurred him on further to attack your quivering folds.

archons almighty, what would it feel like if he—

as if he was reading your mind, wriothesley peeled your panties to the side, and the roughness of his tongue along with his pointer finger sliding in sent your body into another realm of pleasure. if accidentally smacking the back of your head against the couch’s gilded crest rail wasn’t the reason you saw stars just now, then it undoubtedly had to be the duke’s skillful ministrations.

“you’re so responsive,” wriothesley murmured, his hot breath deliciously fanning your skin. you were going crazy from his nose nudging against your sensitive bud as he flattened his tongue to completely coat each and every taste bud with your essence, and his digit continued to slide in and out at an inhumane speed, coaxing more and more of your whines and moans. “fuck, and your slut pussy is taking my finger so well. how many people have gotten the chance to see this pretty view?”

pretty view? you mentally scoffed while struggling to keep your wits about. says him! not every day did a tall, dark, and handsome man lap at your arousal like it was his last meal! you questioned how he could even breathe down there.

“no, i… j-just… just you…” you managed between labored gulps of air, your cheeks flushed of color. “i… i’ve never… d-done this… before.”

in the midst of leaving a bite mark on the side of your thigh, wriothesley abruptly extricated his finger, which made your pulsating hole very unhappy. “are you saying this is your first time?” he asked in disbelief.

you nodded timidly. when he didn’t respond right away, you grew worried that he got turned off by your admission, but weirdly enough, he snickered.

“looks like we’re in the same boat,” wriothesley stated to your bafflement. having withdrawn his finger, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean of your fluids before returning to lightly thumb your clit using circular motions. you had to scoot away because how else were you going to speak clearly with him doing that!?

“y-you’re a virgin!?” you spluttered, ogling down at this man like he had just grown a horn on top of his head.

“way to rub it in,” he jeered at you in a mocking tone. “yes, i’m a virgin. what’s so surprising?”

“because… you’re you!” you stressed. “have you seen yourself in the mirror? it’s a crime for you to look like a sex god without having had sex!”

once again, wriothesley found himself enlivened by your visceral reactions. when an advisor informed him of a diplomat’s advent this week, the warden was ready to be bored to tears by another mundane businessperson. and could you blame him? a few weeks ago, an ambassador hailing from sumeru went on and on about an invention that they wanted to promote to the fortress of meropide’s inhabitants.

…that invention boasted a 41% success rate.

so imagine wriothesley’s gaping jaw when, the moment you bent your knees and voiced your offer, all of his expectations were chucked out of the window.

“‘crime’?” he echoed, followed by a husky chuckle. “i see what you did there. how does it feel to be in love with a criminal?”

a frown weighed down the corners of your lips. “hold on. i may or may not be succumbing to a criminal, but who’s saying i’m in love with one?”

“your body is telling me everything i need to know,” rizzley wriothesley crooned as he rested the side of his head against your thigh. “well, except for your name.”

“…reader,” you answered breathily. “my name is reader.”

“reader.” he nodded in approval. “well, reader, let me show you how we do it in fontaine.”

with newfound vigor, wriothesley mounted the couch so that he was now towering over you and interlocked his hands with yours, pressing them into the vermillion back cushions on either side of your head. as if he was communicating to you that you could no longer escape his advances, even if they became too much.

for some time, he gazed intensely at your blushing face, committing each detail to memory, before he bent down and connected his lips to yours. you tentatively reciprocated his tender kisses, moving your mouth in ways that were unfamiliar yet exhilarating, and shutting your eyes slipped the ground away from your feet and made you feel like you were floating. he let go of one hand to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, which grew into him absentmindedly caressing your cheek like you were made of glass. your neck tickled. your ear burned. every single touch felt like fire on your skin. every kiss was slowly melting your body into mush, melding your body with his. there was no longer a distinction between where you ended and where he began.

after you parted your lips to impart the permission wriothesley’s tongue frenziedly sought, it wasn’t long before the kiss spiraled into a battle for dominance—a battle you lost in the blink of an eye. you could taste remnants of yourself on his tongue from his previous indulgences, which successfully heightened how aroused you were tenfold. your free hand crept up and started kneading your breast through your blouse, your moans swallowed by wriothesley’s mouth.

when he noticed you began touching yourself, he pulled away to your dismay.

he really liked how you craned your neck toward him at the very end of the kiss when he disentangled from you, as though his and your pairs of lips were opposite ends of a magnet. he liked seeing you craving more.

he didn’t like that you were getting ahead of yourself.

“nuh-uh, love,” he whispered, pulling your wrist to the side. “that’s my job.”

wriothesley tugged the hem of your blouse up to expose your bra, and he whistled at the sight. “beige?” he just had to point out with a smirk, bearing a canine. “you really know how to rile me up.”

you internally facepalmed at morning you’s choice of wardrobe. “i was walking into this expecting to have a proper conversation, not to get laid.”

he cocked an eyebrow and suddenly went into business mode. “what was your proposition anyway?”

you couldn’t help but laugh out loud before grasping his large hand and placing it on your chest. “are we really about to do our meeting now?” you chided him.

“you and i are already ‘meeting’ in every sense of the word.”

an affectionate smile broke through your face, and you tugged the man forward by his red tie. “come here, you big hunk.”

wriothesley mirrored your warmth and captured your lips in a searing kiss before traveling down to pepper smooches on your neck and suckle along your collarbone, his teeth the paintbrush and your skin the canvas. he slithered his fingers into the confines of your bra and pinched your nipples to elicit more r-rated sounds from your mouth, and in the corner of your low-lidded eyes, you became very conscious of the reality that his dick would twitch every time you moaned.

anemo archon, forgive me for mine own sins.

“reader,” he gasped. he hunched forward and almost smothered you with his chest as you began to stroke his cock, a bolt out of the blue. you weren’t expecting him to display such a visceral reaction, so you halted at the base of his manhood (which your hand couldn’t even fully wrap around…)

“did i do something wrong?”

“no, not at all,” he affirmed strongly. “i think the problem…”

…was that the sensation of your touch felt astonishingly different to him greasing the pole. it was a shuddering ecstasy that sprinted along his body and unlocked the carnal desires he had kept stowed away.

the key to his dick heart was supposed to have been eternally lost at sea. that was something he was sure of. that was something every person who tried to get close to him was sure of. so he ignored sigewinne’s recommendations, he ignored the rumors of his impotence among the prisoners, and he tried to ignore the hot flashes that jolted him awake in the dead of night, reminding him again that he had always been devoid of love since the start.

but then you came prancing into his office, swinging that key around your finger.

wriothesley’s breathing became shallow, and he pressed his lips firmly into a thin, white line as he stared down at you. how were you shining so splendidly in contrast to the dull lights of his office? how did your frowning lips still look so kissable? how were you looking at him like you were seeing right through him?

he didn’t even know you.

was he deluding himself?

did sigewinne spike his tea?

should he keep going?

what if he hurt you?

a gentle tapping on his forearm hauled wriothesley out of his rumination. he realized he was sweating a lot.

“now i’m sure i did something wrong,” you said worriedly.

wriothesley swallowed harshly before shaking his head, his tufted black hair swaying from side to side. “no… the problem is that… i don’t think i can hold back.”

…

“then what are you waiting for?” you deadpanned. “are you into blue balling?”

wriothesley blinked. “uh, not necessarily…”

“then let’s do it on your table.”

…

“reader…” wriothesley covered his blushing face with the back of his hand. “has anyone told you how… forward you can be?”

a giggle bubbled from your throat. “i’m pretty sure my field requires me to be forward. is it a turn-off?”

“i couldn’t be happier,” he reassured you gladly, and you were soon swept up into another bridal carry. “i will warn you though. if you make a mess of my documents, there will be punishment.”

you smiled. “looking forward to it.” (hopefully, wriothesley didn’t notice he was already going to need new seat cushions after this.)

wriothesley set you down onto his hardwood table, your back toward him, and had you prop one leg up onto the edge, putting your pussy on full display for his enjoyment. he watched in a hypnotic trance as your fluids dripped like a leaking faucet, and he wanted nothing more than to plug you up and fill your needy cunt to the brim. the warden soaked his fingers in your juices to lather them over his shaft, but while he had one hand gripping your hip and the other lining his member up with your entrance, his muscles stiffened. you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“blue balling bastard!” you almost shouted, but he appeared too distraught to be badgered.

“i don’t have a condom,” wriothesley moaned, falling forward and smacking his forehead against your shoulder. for the first time in a long time, he really wanted to cry. “i would have to walk over to the infirmary and grab one for us, but—”

“—i can’t wait much longer,” you two finished in tandem breathlessly, eyes fixed upon each other. in a matter of seconds, this became a pressing matter that left you and wriothesley in deep contemplation. two strangers—total virgins at that—were literally about to raw dog it. honestly, your parents would be bouncing off the walls over this since they always lamented their graying hairs yet shortage of grandchildren.

but wriothesley… you knew a man of his status was much too preoccupied with handling prison affairs as opposed to prison "affairs". although the iudex of fontaine would be anyone’s first thought at the word “justice”, the administrator of the fortress of meropide delivered his own fair share of justice to maintain order when fights broke out in corridors, to overlook the production of gardemeks, and to protect the peace he had fostered in this very structure.

these things were what made you hurriedly request an audience with wriothesley in the first place. his impressive accomplishments as the new leader of the stronghold were what brought the you from mondstadt to the him in fontaine. however, you now found yourself in a sticky situation that would burden wriothesley further if you two took this risk. a child between you and him… that hadn’t been in your agenda.

plus, the steambird would really get a hoot out of this. “breaking news: mondstadt ambassador walked into the fortress of meropide and walked out with a baby lump.”

so, you made up your mind.

“wrio—”

“will you let me come inside of you, reader?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. your vaginal walls automatically clenched around nothingness at the thought as you gasped and gaped back at him in bewilderment.

“what…? are you sure!?”

wriothesley nodded. “i-i promise, reader, to be a loving partner to you and devoted father to our child,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve dreamt of having kids with the person i cherish so that they can grow up in a household where they feel safe, but… my greatest fear in life is becoming the monster that… th-that my foster parents were to me and my adoptive siblings.” his face went white. he could feel himself on the verge of vomiting, which he swore he had rooted out long ago. the scars on his body had never felt more painful. “i know that that belief is unfounded, but… i’ve been a violent person since i was a teenager. since the day that i… i killed them.”

“so if you do not wish to bear a child with a person like me, i understand,” wriothesley avowed, his eyes turned down in shame. “i can find other means to make you feel good, and i’ll just… go to the restroom to finish my business.”

you were finally learning about the warden's haunting backstory, sealed behind his assertive exterior. immediately, tears sprung to the corners of your eyes. you twisted your torso to cup his face with shaking hands and look him square in the face.

“wriothesley… you are so much more than your past,” you insisted earnestly. “are you not aware of how incredible of a person you are? of how many lives you have changed for the better? you couldn’t change the past, so you made it your life mission to change the future of every person who’s living and breathing in this stronghold right now. you converted your suffering into something that led to the liberation of many others’.” you gave him a wobbly smile through the tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. “that’s why i wanted to meet you, wrio. i wanted to meet the man behind the operations, behind the smiles on these prisoners’ faces. so please… don’t ever think badly of yourself.”

as the color returned to wriothesley’s cheeks, the duke couldn’t look away from the eyes that sparkled up at him so brilliantly. it was mesmerizing. his heart had never felt this full, and he wanted it to be as close to yours as possible. without missing a beat, his arms wrapped around your body, lightly brushing against your nipples in the process and causing them to harden on contact. he pressed his entire frontside against your back, and you could clearly feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage (and his dick saying hi from between your thighs).

“you’re so good to me, reader,” wriothesley mumbled. “what did i do to deserve this?”

you laughed and caressed the side of his head. “i just told you, idiot.”

his signature smirk returned in all of its glory, and he trailed his hands down to rest on your hips. “hold onto something.”

“what? agh!”

your body lurched forward once wriothesley drove his cock into your sopping heat, every inch dragging along your walls until he reached your cervix and his pelvic bone was right against your ass. a guttural moan escaped as he remained perfectly motionless, reveling in the feeling of your pussy rippling along his length, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to mask the embarrassing noises seeping through. the pain was unexpectedly minimal, but now you had to deal with this enormous object penetrating you to your very core. and not a moment passed before he started pushing in and out of you, squelching noises rebounding off the metal surroundings as your bated breath was yanked from your throat. throughout wriothesley’s grunts of exertion, a moan poured past your lips at each thrust, his balls slapping against your puffy lips and the table legs screeching in reply. his hands slid up to mercilessly flick your nipples with his thumbs at a rate that engendered tightening sensations to build up inside of your lower abdomen.

“wrio!” you exclaimed, writhing in ecstasy. you didn’t think you could handle the pert beads on your chest being fondled in unison with him pistoning your cunt from the back for another minute. “wr-wrio…! hnngh… ah! i feel so w-weird… ah! nngh…!”

“it’s a good weird, yeah?” growled wriothesley amid nibbling on your earlobe. “i can tell by the way your womb is descending to meet my cock, just begging for my seed. and that’s exactly what i’ll give you.”

“nngh, i… i’m… a-agh!” you pathetically blubbered. a stream of saliva ran from the corner of your lips as he pounded into your tight channel with savage intensity, the whites of your glazed eyes beginning to show. “i-i think i’m gonna c-come…!”

“shit…” he rasped, noticing the telltale signs of an orgasm building up in both of you. “me, too…” he roughly grabbed your chin, fingers digging slightly into flesh, so that he could witness your expression contorting with bliss as you reached your cusp. “i want you to take every drop of my cum, reader. every fucking drop until nothing but my essence flows from your depraved hole.”

you nodded and pursed your lips, overwhelmed by the persistent and passionate onslaught on your pussy that was utterly molded into the shape of his velvet-wrapped steel. “yes, p-please…! wrio, please shoot it inside of me!”

finally, wriothesley bit down on your shoulder and slammed home into your depths, burying himself inside of your womanhood while releasing thick ropes of semen. your muscles convulsed and clamped down onto his cock with a vice, milking it until he had emptied his balls completely. the light humming of the industrial fan above commingled with the heavy panting of the two bodies that have become one, drunk on the languid atmosphere.

“you’re so obedient,” he cooed, nudging aside a lock of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead, whereas you were still reeling from wave after wave of endorphins. as you endeavored to muster the strength to respond, wriothesley glanced down at his files freshly marinating in your juices. “well, for the most part,” he added. “what did i say about my documents?”

“i…” you scowled and snapped back at him haughtily, “i wasn’t trying to ruin them!”

his mellow chuckle resonated in your ears, and in the ensuing seconds, the sound of clinking metal pivoted your attention.

“well, you can’t argue that they’re illegible now,” he said, effortlessly restraining your wrists in handcuffs from archons knew where. you also came to the startling realization that his member hadn’t softened one bit since he came within your spongy walls. “and as the duke of the fortress of meropide, i must carry out punishment where i see fit.”

“…lord barbatos.”

“haha, i love you, too.”

(several days later, charlotte got her big paycheck after spotting another “meeting” between you and wriothesley behind café lutece.)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #smut #stella writes — !#love at first thrust

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minksstinks1 · 8 months ago

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(This is from my Ao3, 2,786 words)

Plot: Oneshot where you showed Bill how much you appreciate his work around the house with a little kiss, and he wants more, but doesn't know how to ask.

It had been a few months now since Bill was sentenced to work at the Mystery Shack for the rest of the house's days, or until the Pines family believed he had finally paid his debt, which you all had known wouldn't be anytime soon. You had been working at the Mystery Shack, and as a babysitter for the twins for a good 2 years now, luckily, not by force. That babysitter relationship soon turned into more of a friendly one, and now the Pines family had seen you as one of their own.

Bill, though, had been making progress. This progress was slow, but if you spent enough time around him, you would realize he was certainly improving every day.

He even stopped shouting less at the poor costumers who dared to ask him for assistance at work. It was a low bar, but it was still progress.

Soon, Bill started being allowed in the house. "Allowed" as in, he started letting himself in and they couldn't get him to leave. You eventually gave up and just let him sleep on the couch at night. Like a stray cat that came in, was fed once, and now refused to leave.

He even slept like a cat, too. Legs splayed out, on his side or stomach, stuff like that. Sometimes, you'd even watch him aleeping with his face on the pillow and his ass in the air, as if he was a cartoon character beat up and left for dead. It was ridiculous, but you all lived with it. It was very clear he still wasn't very used to this human body.

Though, being less evil didn't always include being less of an minor asshole. When Bill realized he could cause chaos without any magic, he was constantly pulling pranks as if he were some highschool bully. Shaken up sodas, banana peels on the floor, and also just straight up jumping put and scaring people. He would fall to the ground and laugh so hard it'd take atleast 15 minutes before he was able to calm down completely.

Though, at first, Bill found pain hilarious, that soon changed when he realized that humans actually need to HEAL from pain and he can't magically just wish himself better. He seemed to always be covered in bruises and scrapes; he was just completely uncoordinated in general. Though, it was pretty funny the first time he tried to run outside and slammed right into the glass storm door. You remembered being the one to fix up his bloody nose when that happened. He kept swiping you away and scratching at you to let him go while blood ran down his face, soaking into his shirt. Once you had finished cleaning his face off with a damp washcloth, he practically hissed and scattered off. Once again, cat.

Bill sat atop the fridge and watched you carefully and you started putting away the groceries you had just bought. Bill'a human for was relatively short, and since he had no magic to fix it, he was stuck at an unfortunate 5'5, making him shorter than all the adults. He liked getting on top of higher places to seem intimidating and watch his surroundings, but it didn't quite work, it was overall just kinda unusual.

Completely ignoring Bill's presence, you started mumbling under your breath and seperating items.

"Cake mix for Mabel, Raisin Bran for Stan, chips for Dipper, cake mix for Mabel, Pie slice for Ford, cake mix for Mabel- Jesus Christ,"

Though seeming excessive at first glance, that girl went through alot of cake mix.

Bill continued observing, not saying a word. He carefully watched your movements, memorizing them.

"Bill, you're being weird, go somewhere else," you began to shoo him away as you made you way over to the fridge. He simply stayed put and narrowed his eyes. You sighed and put the carton of milk away that you held in your hands.

"Well, did you get it?" He peered down at you.

You sighed and rumaged through the bag, putting out a small bag of flaming hot doritos. He jumped down from the top of the fridge, grabbed then from you and ran off. You sighed. "A 'Thank you' would be nice!"

Silence. Whatever, you weren't even sure he was eating them, just licking the flavor off and then touching everything with his grimy hands afterwards. Sometimes you'd catch him just staring at them like he was lost. "Did we forget how to eat again?" You'd tease, and he would growl and go somewhere else.

After putting away the rest of the groceries, you went to go relax finally, sitting down to watch a ducktective reruns. You began to doze off, and before you realized, you were fast asleep.

A few hours later, you woke up to Bill poking at your face. He was staring right down at you. You sat up, startled.

"Haha! Thought you really kicked the bucket there for a second, fleshie!" Bill spoke, straightening up.

You groaned and sat up. You rubbed your eyes and exhaustedly looked up at the yellow bastard. He always wore this sweater Mabel made him. It was a yellow with a traingle in the middle, which was colored slightly darker. He tended to forget to throw it in the wash, which made him very avoidable due to his gross appearance. His hair was black with a yellow fade to it, and the normally whites of his eyes beared a bright yellow. He was skinnier, almost sickly (atleast more than normal), when he first turned into a human-thing, but he eventually started to gain more weight and was now a bit bigger than average,

You liked him that way,

You couldn't deny Bill was slightly endearing. You liked taking care of him and seeing his progress. You're lucky he couldn't read minds anymore, or else you wouldn't hear the end of it. You liked to tease him because he got all red and angry, it was pretty cute.

Bill wasn't very used to nice touches. Yeah, he'd wrap his arm around someone or push them over as a triangle, but he couldn't exactly feel them. It was different now that he had a physical form and skin. Sometimes you'd lightly touch his arm to get his attention or pit yoir uand on his shoulder. He wasn't apposed, but it definitely started and confused him. He wouldn't really but sure of what to do so he'd stand their awkwardly. The only time he'd return these gestures was in the form of mild violence. "Mild" as in swatting.

Though Bill used to have all the knowledge in the world, it was different now and stuff he didn't know confused him. As a being of pure energy, the way his brain worked was like a file cabinet. All the information of the world was right at his finger tips, but he'd have to actually look at the "files" to retain the information. As a human, he only remembers what he, one, lived through, and two, already looked into and learned about. He had no interest in human behavior and affection, so he never really looked into it and learned the behaviors. When Bill was hugged for the first time, he held his breath and was practically shaking after. He didn't hate them, but didn't really get it or know what was going on.

Today, Bill was incredibly bored. Nothing good was on and there was nobody home. It was rare to leave Bill at home by himself, but he's been better about not breaking stuff recently.

As he laid upside down in Stan's chair, he huffed and sunk to the floor, messing up his shoulder length hair. He got up and just went to the kitchen to go eat someone else's food. He realized how filthy it had been and squinted, feeling mild disgust. Ironic. He took the nearby broom and started sweeping the floors. When he started being forced to work at the Mystery Shack, he picked up the cleaning thing pretty quickly. Though he always complained he had to do it, he was actually pretty good at it. He often picked up things quickly.

He wiped down the counters, put extra food away, and even did the dishes in the sink. The bleach smells of the cleaning products made him wince, but he powered through. After an hour and a half, the kitchen had looked much better than originally, and he was relatively proud of himself. He stood back with his hands on his hips, and suddenly, the door swung open. He jumped and looked back to see you standing in the doorway.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." You said, making your way into the kitchen. The bleach smell hit your nose immediately and you stopped. "Why does it smell like bleach in here?" Your brain went to the worst case scenario, thinking Bill might've decided to drink it for some reason other than just oure curiosity.

"I was bored and cleaned, haha, pretty good job if I do say so myself! Better than any of you could've done!" He sneered.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile on your face. "You DID do a pretty good job here, Bill."

Suddenly, you had an idea and smirked harder. You walked over to Bill, held the side of his face, and planted a kiss right on his forehead, "Thank you for doing all this."

Bill stumbled back, shocked, and stammered, "W-w-w-" his face grew red and he was mildly annoyed at that fact. He had a mildly pissed off look on his face as he avoided eye contact with you. He turned around and placed his hands on the counter, visibly trembling a bit.

"Y-Yeah, it was a simple and mindless task. Even an idiot could do it!" He spoke through labored breaths, "Not sure w-why people are always complaining about cleaning, you can leave now!"

You laughed to yourself and sauntered out of the kitchen.

That night, Bill laid on the couch in the living room, staring up at the ceiling for hours. He couldn't deny he liked that intense form of affection towards him, but he had never felt or experienced something like that before. His stomach felt fluttery and it pissed him off. He buried his face into a pillow. He never wanted to see your stupid face again.

He'd hope you'd kiss him a second time soon.

That morning, after not sleeping for even a minute, Bill got up early and jumped to sweeping the halls, dusting the artifacts, and cleaning the paintings. He worked quickly, and not so quietly. He finished right as you'd gotten up. Walking out of your bedroom, you were greeted by Bill gathering his cleaning supplies.

"What're you doing, Bill?" You spoke, groggily.

"You know, just making this hellhole of a house look a little bit more presentable. I wouldn't be surprised if no one had dusted in here since the 80s, aha!" He laughed in that stupid mocking tone he always uses.

He stood infront of you, grinning, and placed his hands behind his back.

"Hm, well that's nice. Thank you, Bill." You muttered tiredly before walking to the kitchen.

He frowned and slumped down, defeatedly. He angrily threw the rag down he had used for cleaning onto the ground and stormed off. He'd have to try harder.

Later on, you were sitting on the couch, scrolling mindlessly on your phone when you were suddenly startled by Bill plugging in the vacuum and hastily moving it across the rug. He was acting like a mother who feels like she has to clean the whole house before the housekeeper comes over so she doesn't embarrass herself.

"Bill can you do that later!?" You shouted. He turned off the vacuum and looked over, "Well SOMEONE has to do it!" He proclaimed before going right back to cleaning. You covered your ears from the sound and left to the outside. He growled to himself and threw the vacuum down.

About 20 minutes later, he came back and bitterly finished vacuming.

Bill continued doing more chores around the house that nobody asked him to do across the week, but he simply did just to get your attention. Raking the leaves, though Mabel jumped into the large pile right after, doing the laundry, cleaning out the fridge, wiping the windows, he was pretty burnt out afterwards.

"Can't believe I'm saying this, but you did a good job, Cipher." Stan sat at the tabel and sipped his coffee. Bill didn't care, he didn't care what Stan or anyone else thought, just you. Stand soon left after to go tend to the shop. Bill eagerly waited for you to come back home.

"Did you clean the windows, Bill?" You smiled.

"Of course I did, I seem to be the only one that ever does anything around here!" He nonchalantly leaned against the countertop, holding back a smirk.

"You've been so helpful lately Bill, thank you again." You lightly laughed and qalked past him. He clenched his fists at your reaction- which was barely one at that.

You grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and turned around, just to be greeted by Bill.

"Jesus!- sorry Bill, you scared me." You stepped around him and closed the fridge door.

"Is there something you're missing?" He slyly spoke.

"I don't think so?" You cocked your head to the side, confused. "You've been acting differently lately, is there something up?"

"Haha! Maybe you're going crazy, I'm the same old Bill as always!" He held his own hands together and grinned.

Now you were kinda freaked out. Was he planning something? Did he plant a trap that would dump or cover you in something?

"Alright then..." You hesitatanly walked around him and looked over your shoulder as you retreated to your room.

Bill felt his eye twitch his pure frustration. Why. Wasn't. It. WORKING. Who did you think you were?? Ignoring him like that and acting like he hadn't practically just been a housewife for the past week just for you!

Before you could reach for your doorknob, Bill tugged at your shirt. You jumped a bit and turned back at him. He looked at you like you had just told him the worst thing you could think of.

"Alright, that's it! I've been nothing but nice and THIS is what I get in return!?" He shouted.

"I don't understand... what's got you acting so weird lately?" You gently spoke.

"Ohhhh NOW you care. Hah! Well it doesn't matter anyways, I'll leave all the chores to you bozos from now on!" He crossed his arms and turned away. "Yep! Don't go crying to Bill when you can't get your countertop to shine like I made it!"

You were confused and a bit scared at all his yelling. You didn't know what had got him so heated.

"Bill... I'm sorry if I made you feel unappreciated, I really am happy with all you've done around here..." you looked down at him, sadly.

"Yeah!? Well prove it, meatsack!" He threw his arms up in there, letting them drop at his sides moments later.

Then, it clicked in your head. You knew what he was looking for, what he wanted.

"Ohh, Bill..." you bent down and gently grabbed the sides of his face and gave him a kiss right on his forehead, just like before. But you didn't stop there, you began to firmly plant kisses all over his tan face with exaggerated "mwa!" Sounds.

face flushed a deep color. He didn't know what to do or where to put his hands so he stayed as still as a statue as you kept kissing him all over his face. He was completely embarrassed, but never protested once, he would never even think of it. You planted one last long kiss on his lips and straightened back up.

"You're so adorable, y'know?" You giggled and then opened the door to your room. "Goodnight, Bill" you softly concluded before closing your door behind you, but not before giving him one last pleased look over your shoulder.

He stood there completely baffled, lip gloss marks peppering his entire face. He relaxed his muscle and slightly slouched, still staring wide-eyed at your bedroom door. He brought his hands up to his face, they were a cold contrast to his heated skin.

Still shocked, he walked off into the living room and laid down onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He held his fluttering-feeling stomach. He might have to find something else to clean tomorrow.

#bill x reader #bill cipher x reader #bill cipher #gravity falls #slightly ooc #fluff #oneshot #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls oneshot

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umathurwin · 5 months ago

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Omg hi! I feel like I’m the only sofia hater out there bc all i see are people loving her character is so boring to me and her and rafe relationship seems so forced to me like she is supposed to help him reconcile with his sister but instead, she spent all season doing nothing apart from the hollis plot

being called a sofia hater cracks me up because i feel like i never talk about her, in fact i usually forget she exists 😭 but i’ll accept it, because i really do hate the way her character (which had a great premise) was totally wasted

a youtuber i really love once described pansy parkinson from harry potter as “an original character wearing the skin of a minor character” and i think that perfectly encapsulates sofia. they make these moodboards, these stories, these elaborate headcanons about a character we know little to nothing about. do i respect it? hell yes. it takes a lot of work. but to have these intense convictions and arguments about a 0.5-dimensional character… WHY?

i went and rewatched every scene in s4 where she even just appears and wrote down my thoughts on them (despite how tedious this was… the action really does rely on the pogues) and like… wow. where do i start

her s4 introduction is the scene where rafe scatters ward’s ashes on the boat, and it’s awkward but in a fair way. i wouldn’t really know what to do either. in the same episode, she’s at the enduro cheering for rafe, but she is inexplicably standing TOTALLY by herself. i still have no idea if this was just filmed oddly or if it was deliberate but this photo kills me… girl why are you alone? at no other point is she physically excluded from the kooks like this. wtf

and after that? nearly every single moment she and rafe share the screen? he’s awful to her. he verbally mocks her in the bar when she tries to calm him down. he flirts with hollis right in sofia’s face and abases her for feeling hurt. he dismisses her every time she tries to express her opinion. rafe does not respect his girlfriend, nor does he care about her thoughts and values. how do i know?

because she knows. how exactly did she convince him to take the deal, again? well, first she says she thinks it’s a good idea, which merely amuses him. then, she makes up a lie about other club members denigrating rafe and how this deal could improve his social status—i believe this to be a fabrication because it easily could’ve and should’ve been explicit on screen if true— and this causes him make up his mind. she knows rafe’s insecurities. she knows what does and doesn’t entice him. and yeah, i’ll be honest, sometimes it makes me sick to think about how deeply she knows this man, and how little he knows/cares about her

rafe brings up marriage, living together, a future with sofia. but do you notice anything about his big grand speeches? ever notice how, when he’s describing his fantasy, it revolves around material things he can own and show off— and sofia has always been one of them? rafe never has anything to say about what she specifically does for him, what he likes about her. bc… what does he like about her? rafe is unfortunately, at the end of the day, selfish. he focuses on what he’ll be able to give her, and what having a pretty wife says about him. the occupant of that role is, well, interchangeable

when rafe “proposed” to her and she did not confess the scam, i knew it was over. this is rafe cameron we’re talking about, a man who values loyalty more than anything in the world, and that was her last shot at coming clean before it was too late. committing a betrayal (well…in the eyes of the narrative…more on that in a sec) and hiding it from him? guys there was zero chance of him learning the truth and forgiving her. i watched the premier with my mother and i even turned to her and said we just watched the final nail go into the coffin. and it did!

(also, not to beat a dead horse, but even after he gives her the ring and he leaves to morocco, he dismissively excludes her again! “i have to go” “what are you doing?” “don’t worry about it, bye!” and she just takes it?! STAND UP!)

fundamentally, sofia’s “betrayal” plotline was weak or, at the very least, not very well thought-out. it’s like the idea of sofia going behind rafe’s back was pitched, but they were unsure how to integrate that into the season. the explosive reaction that rafe had when groff revealed the plot seemed contrived, like the show wanted to put more of the blame on sofia than was warranted. rafe had all but made up his mind by the time sofia had been paid off; to claim that she was the big catalyst in his decision is unfair and literally just wrong. sure, he liked her giving her blessing (because he already wanted to say yes), but i have a really, really genuine question for all of you.

if she had said no, would he have called off the deal?

(spoiler, no. because when she changed her mind after learning of the scam, he dismissed her yet again. the show has countless opportunities for rafe to just care about his girlfriend, and he never takes them!)

while i’m nitpicking, she also never learns any information via her own efforts. every single time she uncovers a new detail, it’s because she’s working around a loud-mouth kook who coincidentally says the right thing at the right moment as she refills their ewers. fuck, can we give her a CRUMB of agency? please?

and yeah, i don’t even engage in any theory that sofia helped rafe reunite with his family. did she ever give any meaningful advice to him? she didn’t even have context—was he ever planning on telling her exactly what he’d done to sarah and her friends? could sarah even pick this girl out of a lineup?! ya, she really is the glue in the cameron dynamic. lol

counter arguments i’m ready to address:

“he takes the deal for her!” funny because,,, he really doesn’t. we even watch the reason he takes the deal— his family. rafe likes the opportunity from the jump but is hesitant because of the investment, and a dreamy montage of him, ward, and sarah is what cements his decision. sofia canonically had nothing to do with it

“but he says he’s taking the deal for him and sofia when he’s alone with hollis!” correct! but you’ll notice he literally only brings her up when hollis starts hitting on him. he’s not attracted to hollis, and her advances make him visibly uncomfortable. bringing up sofia was a way to shut down hollis without explicitly telling a business partner to get off his ass

“rafe brings up sofia’s opinion of the deal with groff!” true, but i actually see this as a display of rafe’s tact and emotional intelligence. rafe is suspicious that he’s been scammed, but it’s genuinely not wise to barge into the office of the man who has $400k of your money and your testicles in his fist to start threatening him— even when he’s not a murderer. “hey… so my gf thinks you’re scamming me… thoughts?” he’s being coy. he’s being smart. he’s not bringing up sofia in a loverboy context. cmon

***

deep inhale. okay, i’m done. i’m sorry i always forget about her. but it’s so much better than the alternative

#what’s sick is this is like… the abridged version of my thoughts. i’m working on concision #*writes an essay about a side character that i often forget exists*#thank you for the ask!!! 💖#follow for more diet coke and cannabis-fueled rants here at umathurwin #outer banks #obx #sofia outer banks #sofia obx #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #answered

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cursed-sonic-opinions · 1 month ago

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(can we stop arguing about shadaria it's getting boring,, i have some strong opinions on it, but at the end of the day, you're getting mad at strangers on the internet over a blond dead girl and an emo hedgehog. you may want to reevaluate your life and how you got here.)

anyways can we talk about something cooler? aka BLAZE THE CAT. i want an open world game, where you get to explore the ENTIRE sol dimension, as blaze and/or marine (or potentially a avatar character <3), including the sol empire, the ocean, and other kingdoms. the plot would probably be something like a new Bad Guy appears and manages to beat blaze and takes the sol emeralds and the jeweled scepter. Bad Guy then manages to lose said items, which get scattered throught the continent. marine or avatar finds the jeweled scepter, but the emeralds are lost in different areas of the map.

the world would be completely open to explore, after the tutorial with marine/avatar, and the main objective is to collect them emeralds and beat the Bad Guy. the playable characters would have a skill tree, and you could gain exp by doing stuff in the world, like beating enemies or completing quests (a lot. i want a shit ton of quests. think zelda botw or totk types of quests), and it would unlock new combat moves, powers, improve stats, that sort of thing.

each kingdom/society (maybe there's like.. one ancient tribe thats hidden away) would have an emerald, and once you complete their quest, you would get the emerald and maybe something from the rulers to help you on your quest.

some random stuff is that you can only play as marine when going on water, and blaze is not playable in certain areas that are too high. i just think that'd be neat and an interesting incentive to not just play as one character the entire time :>

also CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. because blaze was so thoroughly embarrassed by the Bad Guy, she becomes worried that she's not a good ruler. if she can't defeat this one person on her own, how is she supposed to defend her whole empire? marine is also insecure of her abilities, because she feels useless next to blaze. in the time since rush adventure, she's gotten a little better at building her own seafaring stuff, but her hydrokinesis is still weak.

throughout the adventure, blaze realizes that she is actually strong and a good ruler (through quests and helping people,, something something a ruler from another kingdom tells her that she's surprisingly capable), and marine learns how to improve by learning from others, not just throwing herself into random goals with no planning.

it ends with the classic epic fight with transformations- burning blaze, and maybe marine can have a transformation with the jeweled scepter <3?

🦔‧₊˚✩彡

#sth #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #confession

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observingfantasy · 2 months ago

Text

The Price of Deceit

~ Shadow Milk Cookie redemption fic

Containing: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Attempts at Humor, everyone being somewhat mentally not fine, Pure Vanilla being actually angry for a while and the Deceit Trio as a dysfunctional found family

Chapter 7: Night Terror

Summary: Shadow Milk enjoys a peaceful, ordinary day in his room. Or does he?

Read on AO3

Sunlight pooled warmly across the room like honey—thick, slow, golden. Dust caught in its rays, drifting gently through the air, adding to the lazy atmosphere. He should probably draw the curtains shut. It was far to bright for his taste.

But Shadow Milk was busy right now, humming softly to himself as he worked on one of his smaller projects. He was currently stitching various shimmering silver stars onto a beautiful navy fabric, so dark that it seemed almost black. He'd always had a thing for the night sky.

It was peaceful. Quiet.

The light didn't even bother him as much any more. The rest of his room had improved notably in the weeks he'd spend here after all. Still not perfect, still far too bright for his taste, but it was growing on him.

The garish yellows and saccharine cream tones had been steadily covered beneath layers of dark, cool blues and purples. Sapphire blankets draped over the bed, navy and indigo pillows scattered on the nook beneath the window, on armchairs and couches and of course on the bed itself. Little trinkets glistened from shelves and sills—some bought by his minions, others handmade in idle moments just like this.

It felt… not familiar, but more lived in now. Almost cozy. Almost his.

The knock on the door didn’t startle him.

He looked up from his work with only mild curiosity. “Come in,” he called out and Pure Vanilla did just that.

Shadow Milk smiled easily. “Nilla! You’re early today.”

These visits had become routine by now. The healer came by almost daily. For healing spells, check-ins, strength or balance training, you name it. There was still some kind of noticeable, underlying tension, but Shadow Milk had decided to simply ignore that. It had become… almost comfortable.

But not today.

“Shadow Milk,” Pure Vanilla said. The words landed hard, clipped and cold. “We need to talk.”

His smile faltered, froze. A snarky retort hovered on the edge of his tongue but didn’t make it past his lips. Something in Vanilla’s tone, in his stiff posture, doused the amusement like a bucket of ice water.

“And good morning to you too, Vanilla,” he said, trying for levity. But the smile he attempted wobbled, and Pure Vanilla’s expression only grew darker in response. His gut twisted.

“…What’s going on?” Shadow Milk asked, uneasy now. “Did something happen?”

Pure Vanilla’s gaze was steady. Too steady. Flat and unreadable like polished marble.

“Stop,” he said.

Shadow Milk blinked.

“This ends here,” Pure Vanilla continued, voice low and firm. “This isn’t fun. This is not a game. Cookies got hurt—and I know this is your doing.”

Shadow Milk froze, and a numbing cold settled in his chest. “What?” he breathed, a note of panic creeping into his voice. “What are you talking about? I didn’t—I haven’t done anything—”

Pure Vanilla didn’t let him finish.

“Do I really need to list it off?” he asked, stepping forward. “You spread rumors about Fern Arrow and Bluebell, claiming she sabotaged one of his patrols. House Arrowleaf and the Harmonia Guild have been in feud ever since.”

No…

“You convinced Earl Grey Cookie that Espresso was plotting to replace him on the Council—fracturing one of our most stable alliances.”

No, no, no…

“You spread that I planned to dismiss Black Raisin as my Vice Chancellor, dividing my council into supporters and successors. Tearing apart the balance I had build for month.”

No, that wasn't right. That had been years ago.

"You turned the heirs of the Honeyglass family against each other. The siblings fighting over their heritage, despite their father having no intention of stepping down. And then you fanned the flames of Councilor Vinegar Sugar's paranoia until he nearly declared a vote of no confidence against me.”

Stop. Stop, please.

"Have I said enough, or would you like me to go farther back than the past three days?"

Shadow Milk wanted to speak—to protest, to deny, to scream that this wasn’t true. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but float, helpless and frozen, where he had back then.

Because this was that day.

The day he had ruined everything.

The day Pure Vanilla confronted him.

He remembered the chill that had swept through his soul the moment he realized… Pure Vanilla had known. Had known everything. All the subtle manipulations, the carefully sown doubts, the little pushes toward chaos. He thought they’d been so careful. So clever. Had thought Pure Vanilla believed the lies.

But he hadn’t. He had seen through it all. He had let it happen.

And Shadow Milk’s laugh echoed through the room. Hollow. Mirthless. Cruel. His body was still frozen, but his voice—the memory of his voice—echoed through the distorted room.

“Hahaha, hahaha! Oh that's good! I can’t believe it! You knew?” He barked out another laugh, bitter and sharp. “You knew all along, and you let me keep going? Let me keep winning?”

He grinned and twisted the words like a knife.

“Do you know what that makes you, Pure Vanilla? A wise and noble leader—or the idiot who watched his country rot from the inside out while playing house with the enemy?”

He was still frozen in place, but he could hear the mean grin in his voice. Remembered how he hid the pain and the fear behind it as always.

“You saw everything, and just watched it unravel. Every broken alliance, every backstabbing whisper, every spark I caused to set your precious little council on fire—and you did nothing. Not a damn thing!”

His sharp, mocking, gleeful laugh sounded again.

“But you wore the mask well, I’ll give you that. All those smiles. All that warmth. You almost had me fooled. Again.

“But I guess there really is no acting needed when you play the blind, delusional fool.”

A giggle full of sadistic glee cut through the air.

“All that virtue, all that wisdom—what a joke! In the end, you’re still a dirty little liar. Just like everyone else.”

No! No, stop!

Shadow Milk struggled against the spell keeping him still, keeping him quiet.

That’s not what I meant. That’s not what I meant at all!

He hadn’t even believed those words back then. But he had said them—had thrown them like knives into the heart of the only cookie who had ever tried to understand him. Because that's what he did, wasn’t it? Destroying things before they could be taken from him.

He didn’t want to hear what came next.

But there was no mercy. Not for him.

Pure Vanilla’s expression turned to ice. Cold. Controlled. Damning.

“The only dirty little liar in this room is you.”

The words didn’t need to be shouted. They struck with the quiet finality of a locked door—firm, absolute, inescapable.

“I offered you my help,” he said, steady as stone. “Because it was obvious you were drowning in your own misery. I offered my companionship—because no one should have to be that alone. And I tried to give you time. Time to face the truth. To stop lying to yourself and choose something better.”

His eyes, though calm, burned with a quiet fury. “Because I believed you could be more than the Beast you’ve convinced yourself you have to be.”

There was a pause. Barely a breath.

“And maybe that was my mistake,” he said, softer now, but no gentler. “Maybe I was a fool for believing you’d ever stop snarling at the hand that reaches out to help you. For thinking you’d ever want something real. Something good.”

His voice rose again. Louder. Sharper.

“But you’ll always be the bigger fool—for choosing pain over peace, isolation over honesty. For throwing away the chance to be happy, just so you could stay the same. Because that’s easier, isn’t it? Why take the risk of being hurt again, if you could simply hurt everyone else instead.”

A sob tore itself from Shadow Milk’s throat.

And just like that, the curse shattered. He could move again. Speak again.

But it was already too late.

“Please,” he choked, voice cracking as he reached towards the other. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The tears came fast and hot, streaking down his face as he pleaded to a version of Pure Vanilla that was long gone.

“Please, don’t—I… I want to! I swear I—”

But it didn’t matter.

It never had. It never would.

The echoes of his own cruelty were still bouncing off the walls, poisoning the air around him. The insults he spit at his other half for daring to see past his defenses like that.

And then, like the last nail in his coffin, Pure Vanilla spoke again—harder now. Fierce. Determined. Terrifying in its resolve.

“I wanted to find another way,” he said. “But if you leave me no other choice…”

The room fell away completely, shadows and darkness rising like smoke around them.

“I will do whatever it takes to keep my friends and my people safe.”

And then he raised his staff.

The orchid at its tip erupted in blinding silver light—light so pure, it seared through the dark like a blade.

Shadow Milk’s breath caught in his throat.

He knew this light.

It wasn't Pure Vanilla's.

No…

This wasn't how this fight went!

No! No, no please—not this. Anything but this.

In an instant Silver Chains shot from the dark void below, coiling around his arms, his torso, his legs. They clamped down with a terrible finality, each link glowing, hissing where they touched his dough. Burning. Freezing. Branding.

He screamed.

The chains wrapped tighter, dragging him down toward the abyss that yawned beneath him, endless and starless and hungry.

“No! No! Please, don’t—Pure Vanilla, please!”

He kept choking on his tears.

One hand tore free. Desperate. Reaching for his other half.

“Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—I didn’t want this! Please—,” he sobbed. “Please just kill me! Please! Anything but this!”

But Pure Vanilla didn’t move.

Didn’t help.

Didn’t even flinch.

He looked at Shadow Milk like he didn’t even recognize him.

And when he spoke the last words the Beast would ever hear, his voice was nothing but coldness and cruelty.

“As if you ever could have been anything but a monster.”

Then the chains yanked.

And the darkness swallowed him whole.

There was no impact when he hit the bottom. Because there was no bottom. Only falling. Forever.

And when it finally stopped, there was nothing left.

No air. No light. No sound. No ground. No walls.

Just pain.

The chains didn’t just restrain him—they melded with him. They burned into him. Anchored themselves in the very essence of his being. Every slight twitch, every shallow breath, sent new waves of fire and frost tearing through his limbs.

His joints screamed. His magic convulsed. His dough blistered beneath silver that was never meant to be merciful.

And he couldn't even scream. He couldn't even breathe.

The silence in on itself was suffocating.

There was no sound. No smell. No color. No light. Just agony and the press of utter nothingness, closing in from every direction.

But the worst part? That would always be his own mind.

He couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape.

And so his thoughts turned inward. Curled in on themselves like snakes in a cage.

They replayed everything—every mistake, every failure, every unkind word and broken promise. Every scream, every betrayal, every lie. His own voice whispering doubts and guilt and truths too painful to bear.

A thousand regrets. A million questions with no answers.

Memories clawing at his sanity, on repeat.

He’d been created to hold knowledge. Endless memory. Endless thought.

And now, those very gifts were his punishment.

Here, there were no distractions. No sound, no magic, no warmth.

Time did not pass. It stretched. Folded. Distorted. Broke.

He could no longer tell where his body ended and the chains began.

Could no longer remember the feeling of softness. Of sunlight. Of another’s touch.

All he knew was pain. Burned into his very core.

This was not punishment.

This was erasure.

Just without end.

No matter how much he begged, no one came.

No one heard.

No one would ever listen.

Shadow Milk was alone.

Utterly, irrevocably, devastatingly alone.

Forever.

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miri-tiazan · 5 months ago

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Fresh from the archives, new unhinged 00Q chatfic!

So, @cicerfics and have been writing unhinged 00Q chatfics and headcanons back and forth in DMs for uh… going on two years now, and it seems like perhaps the time has come to unearth some of these from the archives and dust them off for sharing. Accordingly, here is the very first chatfic we did, inspired by this comment thread on Ch. 7 of cicer’s delightful fic the warmth of your doorways!

tags: omegaverse, mpreg, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, menopause

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miri-tiazan: Oh God. Cicer. Doesn’t even have to be mpreg but…

Omega Bond going into his first heat in decades and just spontaneously deciding that Q’s flat is the Only Acceptable Location to nest in. They’re not even dating! Bond’s just broken in a few times! Q has no idea why this is happening!

Q just gets an alert from his home security system one day and Bond is There and he’s like, refinishing the window trim in the second bedroom or something. And also he won’t leave. Surprise, Q! You have a roommate, and he’s hormonal! Enjoy your new home improvements!

cicerfics: ...Okay, now that we're talking about this, you know what I'm a little bit obsessed with right now? The entire question of menopause in omegaverse. I don't think I've ever seen an a/b/o fic REALLY explore that concept, but now it's fascinating to me!

Like, what if nesting is a thing omegas only do when they're pregnant OR going through menopause? What if Bond (having never been pregnant) never experienced any of these instincts/urges and thought he was impervious to them? What if he hits 44/45, enters perimenopause, and is absolutely BODIED by the urge to:

a) Acquire a nice house b) Renovate, refurbish, and redecorate it c) Learn to cook d) Start a lil herb garden or something and maybe make some pesto??? e) Acquire a lover/companion to feed up and care for f) Acquire some pets/babies/random houseplants/literally anything that requires his protection and nurturing

Poor dude has ZERO experience with these types of urges. But when they appear, they hit him like a TRUCK. And his own flat is way too cold/sterile/crappy/lonely for proper nesting. There aren't even any cats or quartermasters in there!!

So, yes: one day Q gets home from work and Bond has simply annexed his flat/cats/kitchen. There are already overflowing bags from the hardware store scattered around the flat, because Bond has made up his mind that three different rooms need to be repainted, the bathroom needs a complete reno, and oh yeah, he's replacing the sofa because this one simply Isn't Right. The vibes are Bad. Bond Doesn't Like It, so it's gotta go.

Also, there's pasta sauce simmering on the stove and probably a trifle waiting in the fridge, and the cats are wearing new designer collars.

And sorry Q, but if you didn't want a hormonal new housemate/husband who is going through The Change...too bad. You got one anyway! He's here to stay...and no, he doesn't understand what's happening to his body/mind, either. Good luck, everybody!!

Continued on AO3 here:

00Q Chatfics and Assorted Headcanons (2391 words) by cicer, miri_tiazan Chapters: 1/? Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond) Additional Tags: Omegaverse, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, Menopause Summary: Lightly edited chat transcripts between cicer and miri_tiazan: some live-written fics, some random headcanons, some plot-free fluff, all 00Q!

#miri and cicer 00Q chatfics #00Q #omegaverse

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starreyblueberry · 10 months ago

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Fairly odd parents could make for a sick ass full story game and I’ve been thinking about this for the past few days. Like there are so many problems with the system (aka how many loopholes there are, the fact that kids forget their faires even if the parents suck, the fact that faires sometimes can’t say no to wishes, etc). Idk I’m trying imagine an undertale/omori type game with either Timmy or Hazel (either one would work) and they have the goal of improving fairy world or just improving their own life.

It could be an RPG/choices matter with diff endings being how Timmy turner ends up, or where his fairy’s take place. It could start from the beginning, where we make day to day wishes and slowly we unravel how shit his life is and it’s up to cosmo and wanda to try and steer him on the right path! Or nicktoons unite being an actual story game rather then one off squeals of each other (I love nick toons unite I need another one pleaseplelelsla) Idk my thoughts are so messy and scattered but an actual video game with the plot of fairly odd parents but a bit more serious would actually be kinda fun LOL

#timmy turner #fairly oddparents #fop #fairly odd parents #cosmo #wanda

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flamsparks · 6 months ago

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So, I finished Veilguard…

…and I need to vent…

The text ahead is mostly spoiler-free. Minor spoilers are present (and marked)… and it’s quite long. Apologies for that…

TL; DR: Veilguard is not a bad game. It’s just a bad Dragon Age. BioWare made most decisions on your behalf, so you don’t have to. You’re a hero in shining armour (mandatory), surrounded by NPCs in various shades of vanilla, immersed in a non-existent lore, having conversations that swing between generic and cringe. Nothing Dragon Age has ever been.

N.B. I tried to be as accurate as possible while writing this text. I took notes while playing on events and conversations to try and stick to the facts actually occurring during the game. But of course, the game is immense and guides to it are not as detailed or reliable as of now, so I couldn’t double-check most of it. So, if you find anything wrong with what I say, any details (or massive plot points) I missed or got wrong, please do let me know, and I’ll see to correct them!

Good things first. Because despite what the shitload I’m about to drop onto the game might suggest, there are a few changes they made that I genuinely appreciate.

First of all, the playability has greatly improved. When it comes to DA, one of the main issues I always had with every. single. game. was that the first few hours I was lost in the dynamics I needed to figure out before I got the hang of it. Maybe I’m just an idiot. But still, there are mechanics in all three previous games that need to be understood before you get down to actually playing (and enjoying) the game. Veilguard is not like that. It’s very intuitive, everything is pretty neatly marked… it’s something I sincerely appreciated.

I also don’t dislike the new combat mode. I was worried sick that a party of only 3 wouldn’t be remotely enough to cover everything that needs covering, but I’m glad this was not the case. I’m also a pretty non-strategic player when it comes to combat - the kind who’s content with swinging an axe around and decapitate whatever comes close enough to hit. It’s again a very intuitive format the one in Veilguard, and though 3 attacks may be few, they suffice imo. Same goes for steering your companions’ fight. Only downside is just how much you need to dodge. I was hoping to play an archer, but quickly realised that playing solely at range is basically impossible since enemies target you constantly. But melee combat has also become far more manageable than before, so not all that bad. But again, I’m a player who doesn’t really know what strategy is.

And another thing I really appreciated is the pacing. To have more minor main quests scattered all along the way rather than fewer, bigger main quests, interspersed with countless side quests, helps keep better track of the plot and the big events that just occurred (which are supposedly pretty urgent stuff, stop wasting your days picking elfroot!). And in a game as story-led as DA is, keeping the plot together is not a bad thing after all.

Good.

Now that we got this out of the way,

Let’s begin from something that alarmed me already ahead of release: the impossibility of importing your world state.

I’m generally not one to jump to conclusions before having thoroughly looked into the thing. But this could not not be an issue. DA games after Origins have always lived and breathed the lore they’re set in. Choices you made affect the world afterwards. And though in the major scheme of things, they all pretty much came together to the same core points, it’s always been nice to see how previous choices reflected into the new games. You could overhear people mentioning a certain event while passing by, you could ask how your companions from the previous game were doing… and cameos of characters from previous games were doubtlessly the best part of it. Some were just fleeting appearances, but some were so relevant to the game that you ended up doing entire quest-lines with characters you knew from before and cared for. What’s more devastating than having to choose between leaving Alistair or Hawke behind? (Don’t answer please, I know the list of tough choices is long, please, don’t make me suffer further).

In Veilguard, because you cannot bring up the previous state of the world, not only you don’t have any access to news from other parts of Thedas (like, c’mon, you can’t tell me that echoes of whatever is going on in the circles southwards is not reaching maybe not Tevinter, but at least Antiva or the Anderfells), but every cameo is so frustratingly underwhelming! Characters just make an appearance, you don’t really get to talk to them, and even when you do, you can’t ask them how they’d been doing since you last saw them in DA[X]. If I left Isabela to the Qunari, I wanna ask her how she escaped! If Dorian is in a relationship with Bull, I wanna be updated! If Kieran was born, I wanna know how he is! Morrigan is the only character from previous games you have decent conversations with, and you still don’t know shit! These are small details, often irrelevant to the plot, which make the lore of DA rich and alive, and help the player connect to the worlds before the current one!

But the sad truth is that Veilguard was made for new players. Not for old ones. And yes, I understand that after 10 years since the last game, it’s plausible to think that many old players will have forgotten the franchise… but how many people had been eagerly waiting to see this world further develop for a literal decade? I can’t believe they’re not worth enough.

And being unable to choose your own world state means that the rich lore is largely avoided. A big part of discovering new countries of Thedas in previous games was being immersed into the local culture, its traditions and customs, its politics, even its language, and they had an influence in the events. After Veilguard, what do I know about Rivain? Beeches. And they have food of some kind. That’s it. That’s the lore.

Oh no, wait. We know Rivain is a non-binary culture... or do we?

Please, help me out on this. Because I played this part twice, and twice I found a plot hole so massive I sincerely think I must have missed a very easy bridge crossing over it somewhere. Please, if I did, tell me. Because otherwise, this is what I saw. And it’s driving me insane.

When Taash needs to make their choice, it is spelled as “choose between the Qunari and Rivaini culture”. And beside the irony that was noted about Taash’s cultural identity to be forced into a rigidly binary choice, Taash embracing the Rivaini culture additionally translates into them embracing their non-binary identity… except… how does choosing that culture equate to choosing that identity? When is it ever stated that the Qunari culture is a binary one [it is made explicit later on, during that infamous conversation], while the Rivaini culture is not, before that moment? And that’s not even the whole problem! To do some “talks about gender”, Taash needs literally to go to Tevinter ([SPOILER] and since I had Minrathous taken over by the Venatori, the Shadow Dragons are literally missing atm, so how on Thedas did Neve manage to arrange not one but SEVERAL cozy talks between them and Taash?). How is that supposed to be “Rivaini culture” if Taash had literally never heard of it from them and needed to go to a whole other country to find out about it?

This is just how afraid Veilguard is of its own lore. Companions may be the soul of Dragon Age games, but their lore is their spine. Without it, they’re just a shapeless mushy blob. I literally went through every single game just to live and help build this world. That’s just how powerful it is. And Veilguard is so scared of it (and Maker save us from any mentions of slavery in Tevinter or THE CROWS), it won’t let you get any close to it, at the cost of not even giving you the information you need to make your own choices.

But even though the game won’t give you the elements to understand what you’re doing, it will always clearly mark in bright neon colours what’s the choice it wants you to make. And after all, you don’t need to be informed to make informed choices… if the choices are already made for you.

“You’re not very good at being evil” (Bellara, 9:52 Dragon) That’s right… why am I no? Oh yeah, because BioWare decided so for me.

In BG3 you can literally choose to go for a mystery background that forces you to kick a squirrel dead, and you can choose either to fight it or go down the horror lane of the Dark Urge. And regardless of the background, at the end of the game you can literally fuck off the entire mission and just decide to become god and enslave the whole literal world. You can fucking turn your companions into fucking brainless squids! That’s the amount of liberty you have!

Now, a disclaimer. This amount of liberty does come with a cost. The choices you can make are many, but Larian has its own standardised plot, and that’s the one you get. Jaheira can die in BG2, she will still show up in BG3. And if when Larian releases BG4, they will have chosen one path of events. And whatever you might have wished to see reprised in this new game, you can only accept what is chosen for you. This is the trade-off when have this much freedom of choice. And all in all, it’s nice to have a game like BG3, but my heart lies with my choices, and I want to see them reflected in my worldbuilding.

Veilguard instead has a course set for you and all your companions, and you have no power over it. And that’s frustrating not because I would make the evil choice, given the chance. I am literally the kind of player who manually saves before starting a conversation with any PG, so I can go back and try not to hurt their feelings the second time. And yet, having an evil option is important, even for me. Because that’s when I choose not to use it.

I elaborated further on the importance of the evil option here.

In DAO, your character literally doesn’t speak with its own voice, and needs you to select every single dialogue line it’s gonna use with NPCs. From there, PCs have grown more and more independent… until here in Veilguard, they basically do everything on their own! Entire conversations are carried out without you being able to intervene, if not to give a small input every once in a while. You don’t really need to read the options you have, because you know that anything you choose will inevitably be just nuances of the same answer. And even the “blunt” option is not necessarily blunt. Only mildly more determined, but even your personality is not your choice. And the one you get, well…

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credit: @9lunarseas6 via @timo-0126 (link)

Like… really? Rook is a far, faaaar cry from the wit Hawke spoiled us with.

For the unlucky souls who’re not acquainted with Hawke, this in the video is one of the personalities they can have. And all these personalities are very starkly defined, and depending on which you’d been selecting most often, they end up colouring many of your interactions, even without your active control.

What’s Rook’s personality? If I had to describe them as a nuance in an array of colours, Rook would be a bleached rag. And it’s not like you can do much about it, because of course, there’s the matter of agency. Rook role plays on its own, and you’re just a companion, giving them your input and hoping that will affect their decisions.

And speaking of companions… let’s discuss them. Because for months, years on end, BioWare wouldn’t. shut. up. about how important companions are to them, how central they are to their stories, so let’s talk about the companions.

Companions have always been the soul of BioWare games, because they have a stark and faceted personality they’re not afraid to show in all its vivid colours. And then there’s Veilguard. I won’t say they’re soulless or without a personality, but they are... bland. They have personal challenges and peculiarities that give them colour, but they are still faint hues of the usual rainbow we’re used to.

To give an example, let’s discuss the irony of Bellara asking why the hero of the story she’s writing would save the world... and this is the exact question the whole game never asks to any of its characters once. None of them has any sort of ulterior motive to join the Veilguard other than the answer Rook gives Bellara: “because we’re heroes, that’s what we do.” (Seriously? That’s how you get away with it?)

In DAI, the world was ending too, and yet there was always another, more personal reason pushing your companions to join the Inquisition. Thom was desperate to give his life a purpose and to make amends. Bull needed to keep an eye on the Inquisition on behalf of Par Vollen. Dorian got sucked in at first because he was trying to save his mentor and his friend, and then remained because he literally didn’t have anywhere else to go. Cole... he didn’t even care about the world ending! He was there because helping others was literally his nature. And all these personal reasons helped shape these characters and build the depth of their personality.

What are the personal reasons pushing these individuals specifically to join the Veilguard? Taash might be tagging along to free the blighted dragons from their misery (or just because their mother told them). But even that is hardly exploited along their arc. And the same can be told of every companion. They struggle to have any depth to them, which is completely foreign to Dragon Age characters, even when too hasty writing made for poor plot and character development (looking at you, DA2). Even Varric! VARRIC! A character who’s had two whole games to build and solidify his personality! Who’s hands down one of the most loved character of the whole franchise! How do you even manage such a feat?? Oh yeah, by relegating him to a corner of your palace that you never visit, without ever giving him any relevance to the game. [non-explicit SPOILER] No, the explanation given at the end is not enough. Varric is repeatedly narrated to be a great man, but all you see him do is making a few motivational speeches and conclude with “I’m going to take a nap”. How can you do so much dirty to such a character so thoughtlessly? New players will never know that Varric is indeed a great character, because they are told so all the time, but never shown.

But this ton of telling and not showing and general flatness is not exclusive to the companions. It touches everything. The lore, the relations between factions and characters, everything is oversimplified, and often reduced to a few key features that characterises pretty much every aspect of them. Most are reduced to their species or faction or such, which doesn’t allow for overly faceted motives and which in turn impacts your freedom of personalising your own beliefs and purposes.

Davrin: “So, you met a god” Bellara: “Well, technically, OUR god”

No, technically, freedom of religion applies regardless of your species, and both Davrin and I made it repeatedly clear that we want nothing to do with these self-proclaimed “gods”. So WHY can’t I just tell Bellara to stop forcing her beliefs on us, just on the grounds that we’re elves? “Remember the nursery rhymes?” No, Bellara. I was raised in Tevinter by human parents. Why would I know elven nursery rhymes?

I chose to play as an elf raised in Tevinter – from where Dorian says the Dalish literally stay away – exactly because I wanted to see what consequences would bring to play as an atheist elf raised far from elven customs who has to take down two gods from the elven pantheon. And guess what I saw? Nothing. It changes nothing. Not in my interactions with others and not in the knowledge I have access to. Bellara will still talk to me and speak of “our” gods, and I will keep on knowing Dalish lore and speak (native?) Elven, because apparently I got that for free, no explanation given to justify such competences. Zevran, Fenris and Sera were all elves raised far from Dalish or any elven influence, and they went about it in three radically different ways. Zevran struggled for every bit of memory he could gather of his mother and her Dalish customs, Sera rejected them all together, while his elven heritage was not even on Fenris’ radar. Me, I just know. Because. And don’t even get me started on tattoos…

credit: @0alix0 (link)

But I can’t conclude this odyssey of an essay before I’ve touched one last subject.

Bellara: “I think we’re getting close” Rook: “How sure are you?” Bellara: “As sure as I can be?”

The script. Oh, the bloody script.

I sincerely hope someone organises a poll to vote for the cringiest scene in Veilguard. I’m sure a fan favourite will be that already infamous scene of Taash’s coming out with their mother. My vote would go to the final dialogue with Isseya though.

Beside the cringe though, most of the problems with the whole script of the game is that it’s just… empty. Dull. Generally uninteresting.

In DAI, I would literally stop whatever I was doing just to pay extra attention to whatever banter had just kicked in. And it was always amazing banter! The wit, the jokes, the stories, the developing relationships! In Veilguard, I appreciated a lot the fact that banters interrupted by STUFF start again from where they left. And I often went back to the Lighthouse to take a tour of all companions and eavesdrop their conversations. But soon I realised… that too was often not worth the trouble.

It’s just all cheap script, that most of the time fails to be interesting or even relevant. What’s the point of the conversation between Bellara and Rook I transcribed above? What does it give me? Nothing. It only feels like a need to fill empty bits. And this applies to every single conversation in the game, from banter to plot dialogues.

Oh, and beside the poll! Can we also have a drinking game with Bellara’s lines? A shot for every time she says “he was/is my brother” (double if she adds another “my brother” afterwards) and “my/our people/gods”. I swear 60% of her lines are just copy-pasted.

Dragon Age had been away for a decade, and I understand the need to call to new players to rebuild a base after so many years. I get it. But while Veilguard is not a bad game, it’s not a Dragon Age game. Because it’s devoid of everything that makes Dragon Age what it is.

So what's next?

First of all, stop your plans on completely wiping off every bit of previous lore by just saying “the south was blighted and destroyed everything”. I see what you’re trying to do there. Don’t. Destroying all previous worldbuilding to start off with no strings attached is not the way to go. Instead, find a way to call back all the writers you chased away over the years, starting from Gaider. You need people who live and love this franchise, who know it and know what made it the grand experience it is. You need them. And you need to listen to them.

Then.

Veilguard introduced us to a shit ton of never-before-seen locations. Now let us get to know them.

No Dragon Age had ever had this many places in one go. Previous games are set in one, two locations at best. And all of them allow you to dive deep into the lore by playing it. You get to choose who rules these countries, to decide on whose side you’d rather stand in a war... so pick one location, two at most, of the many you introduced in Veilguard, and let us go deep into it. Let us fight slavery by Fenris’ and Dorian’s side (in Joplin, maybe? *winkwink*), let us see the consequences of the mage-templar war, let us know whatever the Divine decided to do with the circles. And let us get INVOLVED. All Dragon Age games have always been about being involved in a vast lore, so let us do it! Let us experience and live this rich lore! And let us write a bit of it too.

P.S. is anyone else annoyed that elves and Qunari have gradually become just humans with funny features? Like pointed ears and/or big horns? I so miss Merrill’s and Fenris’ cat-like eyes and the Arishok’s dragon-like brow.

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

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hey! while I was asking someone to read my writing they said sounded fan fiction-like and that my writing was very scattered and chaotic and not at all descriptive. Could you help me with that?

Writing is "Scattered and Chaotic"

First, I want to take a moment and say that fan-fiction isn't inherently badly written, so let's stop demeaning it with a broad brush. Some of the best fiction out there is fan-fiction, and some of the worst fiction out there happened to be traditionally published, so let's stop with acting like quality has anything to do with type of fiction or method of publishing. (And I know this was your friend, not you, but I wanted to make sure to get this out there... ♥)

There are a lot of things that can be "scattered and chaotic" in a person's writing... plot, character development, pacing, world building, structure... without knowing exactly what this person felt was "scattered and chaotic," it's hard to tell you exactly how to fix it. Generally-speaking, it sounds like you just need read more fiction, read some craft books, and practice writing more. Focus on tightening up plot structure, character development, backstory and information delivery, description, and pacing.

As for improving description, here are some posts to help with that:

The Right Amount of Description Description: Style vs Excess/Deficiency Weaving Details into the Story Writing More Meaningful Prose How to Make Your Description More Vivid Adding Description to Your Writing

Happy writing!

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chaos-is-beautifvl · 2 years ago

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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨) 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x fem!reader, possible eddie munson x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you have a secret. that secret has been shared with only two people - your diary and your best friend, just not the one it’s about. but what happens when your secret isn’t so secret anymore?

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: wheeler!reader, angst, so much drama, special appearance: eddie, we do not like carol or tommy in this fic, possibly unrequited love (sorry y’all)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k (4343)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: requested by anon a few months back. the request originally asked for byers!reader but i saw nancy and thought they asked for wheeler!reader. i had written 3000 words exactly, and the thought of changing it gave me serious writer’s block. nevertheless, here it is. very plot heavy bc i wanted to show reader and steve’s relationship. enjoy!

p.s. check out my writing here and my other steve story: dancing’s not a crime here

Being a Wheeler is a heck of a job.

As the second oldest of four children, you don’t know whether to consider yourself the middle child or the outcast. You’ll go with the latter. After all, much to your mother’s chagrin, those are the types of people you spend most of your time with.

The only exception is the one and only Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle the two of you even became friends. But all thanks to your chemistry teacher, who thought the two of you would be a perfect pair, or at least, she only paired you two together because Steve was goofing around, and you were adamant about working alone.

Either way, since then, you and Steve have become best buds. Such an unlikely pair turned heads and brought about glares and eye rolls. But, being who you are and given that your best friend is Eddie Munson, the looks and whispers don’t phase you.

Your life is going well. Your grades are improving - you only get the occasional B, which is great because now your mom is off your case. You’re closer to your little brother, which is a feat because he and his friends are rowdy. And you have two incredible best friends who annoy the crap out of you. Other than that, you have no issues.

Actually, you do have an issue. Your issue is currently climbing through your bedroom window.

You lazily watch as Steve clambers into your room. His movements are clumsy and all over the place. If your record player played a quieter track, he’d give himself away.

Once he rights himself, he gives you a wide grin, and you make a point to blink at him, a silent communication of ‘what the hell’?

Steve heads over to your vanity, one that has papers and books haphazardly scattered across it. He bends down to check out his hair, shaping it together as if the tons of Farrah Fawcett hairspray he uses isn’t damn near gluing the strands together.

“Hello to you too, Harrington. What a joy it is to see you tonight.” Your tone is about as dry as burnt toast, prompting Steve to look at your unamused expression through the mirror.

“You’re pissed…” The way he tests the words indicates that he isn’t sure why you’re looking at him the way you are. You huff, nodding in response.

“Why are you even here?”

“Uh…” Steve finally turns away from the mirror to properly look at you. While you seem pissed off, he’s known you long enough to know it’s something else. “What, can’t see my favorite girl?”

“No, Steve, you can’t because you’re always here for Nancy!”

His mouth falls open at your words, making you regret airing your grievances. That’s until he smiles all lopsided-like, and your heart betrays you by beating a little faster than it should.

“You jealous or something?”

Your eye twitches, and you sigh as you fall back on your bed. “You’re awful, you know?” You hear a laugh, and your heart pitter-patters again, betraying you. “And I’m not ‘jealous or something’.” You make your voice octaves deeper to mimic him. “I’m just annoyed.”

The bed dips when Steve joins you. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” You don’t look convinced, and he nudges you. “I’m serious. I might be dating your sister, but you’re still my favorite Wheeler.”

“Whatever. I still don’t believe you. But go before Nancy has a fit.”

“Fine, fine. Rush me, why don’t you?” He hovers by your door, listening to ensure the coast is clear. Before he heads out, he winks at you, giving one of his signature charming grins. “See you later, Wheeler.”

You can’t stop a grin of your own from emerging as you raise a hand as if you’re going to wave. Instead, you flip the bird, “Get out, Harrington.”

Once he leaves, you grab a pillow, burying your face inside to scream. Of all people, why do you have a crush on him? That’s a question answered when you pull out your diary, writing down the feelings you’ll never confess.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Though Steve hadn’t said he’d spend more time with you, he did make an effort. He even went as far as joining you and your friends instead of his own for lunch.

You’re having a conversation with Steve when someone calls him over. Annoyance tugs at you, but before Steve goes, he makes a point to salute you. The simple gesture makes you smile like a schoolgirl, and Eddie quickly calls you out.

“This is sickening to watch.” The brunet pretends to vomit, covering his eyes like a distressed maiden.

Your smile quickly wipes away as you roll your eyes, tossing a grape at Eddie, who somehow manages to catch it in his mouth - the lucky bastard.

“Don’t get mad at me because you’re in love with-” Before he can finish his sentence, you slap your hands over his mouth, shushing.

“-Be quiet!”

Eddie peels your hands off him, rolling his lips to prevent his laughter from escaping. “I wasn’t going to say you know who’s name. No need to attack me.”

“Yet, for some reason, I don’t believe you.”

Eddie starts chuckling at your tone, and you swat at him, laughter bubbling in your chest. “Stop laughing, you ass.”

From afar, Steve watches the two of you laugh. He’s trying to figure out why his chest feels tight when Carol waves her hand to get his attention.

He directs his gaze to the ginger, who smacks her gum loudly. “What is up with you and those Wheelers? First, you’re friends with one. And now, you’re dating one.”

Tommy chimes in, “Yeah, man. Still can’t believe your friends with that freak.”

Steve isn’t able to defend himself when Carol interrupts. “Tommy’s right, Steve. Nancy was already a stretch, but that freak-” She smacks her gum again, nodding her head over to you. “-she’s a basketcase.”

Now, Steve is used to his friends and their judgmental ways. And, though he has a long way to go, he can acknowledge that he’s changed from the ignorant guy who picked on anyone who wasn’t cool enough. Part of - no - a good majority of that change is thanks to one person - you. So, hearing his assholes of friends calling you a freak and making it seem like being around you is hell on Earth riles him up all the wrong ways.

“Shut the hell up.” Steve scoffs, crossing his arms. He looks over at you, and you’re gesticulating as you recount a story to your friends. Steve’s reminded of how amazing you are as they smile and laugh.

“You assholes don’t even know the first thing about her. She’s the best damn person I’ve ever met, and she’s leagues better than both of you without feeling the need to tear down everybody else that breathes.”

Steve turns back to Tommy and Carol, his harsh glare rivaling their shocked expressions. All Carol can do is slowly chew her gum, looking around as if waiting for someone to snap Steve back to his old self.

“You know what? I don’t have time for this. You can plan the goddamn party on your own.” With that, Steve walks away before he says something extreme and heads back to your table.

“I don’t know about you, Tommy,” Carol blows a bubble with her gum, “But I really don’t like her.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You’re by your locker, sifting through your notebooks and chatting with Eddie, when Steve joins you. Being as keen as you are, the odd look Steve gives Eddie doesn’t go unnoticed. You have half a mind to comment, but Steve speaks before you can.

“You’re coming to the party, right?” Steve asks as he leans against the lockers next to yours.

You roll your eyes in annoyance. There’s a party every day, it seems. You shut your locker before turning to Steve. “How about no?”

“Aw, c’mon, it’ll be a total drag without you there, you know?” Steve lays the charm on thick as he sports a heart-clenching grin. But you’ve learned not to act on those lovey-dovey feelings to protect your sanity.

“If it’ll be such a drag, how about you don’t go…?” Eddie offers, reminding you of how awesome a friend he is. He’s always there to pull you out of situations you don’t want to find yourself. And going to a party with Steve, and undoubtedly his horrendous friends, is not your cup of tea.

“Funny, Munson. Don’t think I was talking to your ass.” Steve’s counter catches you and Eddie off guard, and you throw a ‘what the hell’ look at Steve. You know that Steve is still Steve and has some unsatisfactory traits lingering. But him being unnecessarily rude to Eddie is something you’re not okay with.

“Okay, look…” Steve sighs, which has you raising an eyebrow, awaiting his response. “That was messed up, sorry, dude. I was going to ask if you both wanted to come.”

Eddie brushes it off with a wave, “Don’t sweat it, man. I get it. But we’ll have to get back to you on this one. Y’know, parties aren’t really our scene.”

You agree with Eddie’s statement with a nod. Steve, however, has difficulty not rolling his eyes at Eddie’s use of we. What, did he not think you could answer on your own? And why the hell is he always getting in his way? But most important, why does it piss Steve off so much?

While Steve ponders, he misses the call of his friends. He only reacts when he sees Eddie stumble towards you. He whips his head around to see Tommy and Carol snickering.

“Watch where you’re going, you damn freak,” Tommy sneers, and some jerks in the back laugh along.

Your books fall out of your arms as you prevent Eddie from becoming too familiar with the ground. “You good, Eds?” He nods, allowing you to help him back on steady footing.

You glare at Tommy, who laughs like a fucking hyena. You’re about to rip him a new one when Steve steps in, much to your and everyone else’s surprise.

“Jesus, Tommy… You have to be such a dick all the time?” Steve pointedly asks as he bends down on one knee to pick up your fallen books. It’s a simple act - a fine gentleman courteous enough to help a distressed maiden. But, you don’t know, something about how Steve gathers your things, handing them to you with that oh-so-apologetic expression, makes that simple act not so simple.

A singular strand of hair loses its hold and flutters down to frame his face, and, like an idiot, all you can form is, “Thanks…” You hear Eddie snort quietly beside you, and as you take your books from Steve’s outreached hands, you make sure to jab the brunet in the side with your elbow.

“Always with the fucking Wheelers…” Carol sighs, popping a bubble of her gum. Like birds migrating, their small group of goons disperses in pursuit of more havoc. You’re grateful for two reasons. 1. They’ll leave you and Eddie alone. 2. Most importantly, you’re sure it’s plain as day how flustered Steve’s actions made you.

You’re about to give Carol and Tommy a piece of your mind when the bell rings for a second time. You curse, haphazardly shoving your books into your backpack.

One more tardy, and Mrs. Nelson might make do on her promise to slap you and Eddie in Saturday detention. That was just something neither of you could afford. You grab Eddie’s hand, and in your haste, you miss the disgruntled look on Steve’s face.

You two run down the hall, and just as you reach the corner, you turn around and lift your hand to wave bye to Steve. “See you never, Harrington!”

The corner of his mouth upturns when your wave turns into flipping the bird. “Oh, and fuck you, Tommy and Carol!”

The two scoff behind Steve, who only smiles, shaking his head. “Gotta love those Wheelers.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It’s Friday night, also the day of the party. Now, you’ve made all reservations to stay at home in the comfort and safety of your room. You’re all set to do just that until Steve comes to pick up Nancy. Ever since your mom caught him sneaking through your bedroom window to see your sister, he’s made more effort to appear at the front door. For good reason - Karen Wheeler might be head of PTA and bakes cookies, but she’s one woman you don’t want to be on the wrong side of.

You’re rifling through the pantry when Holly runs to you. She tugs at your pants legs until you turn around to see her with a piece of paper. You eye it warily until she aggressively thrusts her hand out, pointing to the front door before running off.

The crumbled piece of paper reads: “PARTY? Yes or yes?”

You snicker, pocketing the note as you gather your snacks and head for the stairs. On your way, you spot Nancy gracefully gliding down and almost envy her because you always trip over a step.

Nancy stops you before you can ascend. “Oh, are you staying home again?” The ‘again’ is an ongoing joke with your family since you’re affectionately dubbed a hermit.

“She’s not,” Steve answers as he joins the two of you, and your eye twitches a bit when he swings an arm around her shoulders. “She’s coming to the party.”

Your face furrows as you pretend to think. “Hmm, you know, I don’t think I ever agreed to that. By the way, Harrington, you didn’t give me an option for no way in hell.”

Steve groans, “C’monnn, it’ll be a blast.” You almost let the thought of him being cute as he pouts linger in your mind but instead push it away.

You yawn tiredly, tucking your snacks under one arm as you cover your mouth. Blinking slowly, you squint before sighing in acquiescence. “This isn’t a yes, but I’ll consider it.”

You can see that Steve is fighting the urge to persuade you more, and the way he settles for a cool nod makes you bite back a grin. You wave goodbye to him and Nancy as you trek back to your bedroom.

You’ve nearly reached the top when Steve calls your name from the open front door. You turn around to see a cheeky grin. “Don’t forget Munson’s invited, too. See you there.”

You find it hilarious how sure he is that you’ll show up. There is absolutely no chance in hell you would go to the party. No chance at all-

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The music from the party sends vibrations throughout Eddie’s van, and you’re suddenly regretting coming. You turn to Eddie with an unsure look and almost laugh at his mirrored expression.

“Twenty minutes tops.” Eddie frowns as a couple runs in front of the van, cackling as they head for a cluster of trees further back. It’s so obvious what they’re up to.

“Ten.” You can’t fathom spending more time here, and you haven’t even made it inside yet.

Eddie nods in agreement, moving to get out before he stops to turn to you. He pokes you with a finger to get your attention. “Hey, you feeling okay?”

You furrow your brows, sighing. “I don’t know. Something feels off…”

“Maybe it’s the fact that we’re here… at this party… which, can I just add, is totally not our scene?” Eddie suggests, making you frown slightly.

“I don’t know. Today has been a bit weird. I was looking for something earlier and couldn’t find it, and then I had to see Steve and Nancy being, well, a couple. And, get this, I stumbled down the stairs when you came to pick me up.” You sigh again. “Maybe this was a bad idea…” you mumble, looking out the window to see someone vomiting on the lawn. Your nose crinkles, and you quickly avert your gaze to Eddie before you get sick, too.

“Well, how about this?” Eddie grins, trying to prompt one of your own. “We show face, talk to that guy - the unnamed one you have a major hard-on for. Then we make our grand escape, and guess what?” You look at him amused and respond with a hum. “We head back to my place and spend the rest of the night watching awesome movies and listening to super cool music. Sound good?”

You hate that Eddie knows you so well. With an affectionate eye roll, you breathe in and out. “Sounds good. Let’s go, Munster.”

The party is in full swing inside. It seemed the outside partying was just a warmup for what you two would face. Some acquaintances greet you and Eddie, sending waves and raising their drinks. It’s almost comical because it makes you feel like you’re one of the “cool” kids.

Somehow, you and Eddie find yourselves in the thicket; the music’s bass rumbles through you, and you see far too much bumping and grinding for your liking. You look around for the only reason you attended this shit show and come up short. However, you see Carol, who has an annoyingly cocky grin as she passes you, whispering something to Tommy, who snickers.

You’re about to comment on it to Eddie when someone calls your name. You look around until you see Steve heading towards you.

“Heyyy, you made it!” His enthusiasm brings about a simpering grin of your own. Steve pulls you in for a hug, throwing his arm around your shoulder, and you have to tell your heart to stop doing somersaults.

“Yeah, I did.” You smile up at him and almost laugh at his dopey expression. You’re not sure why he’s looking like that, but you attribute it to drinking. After all, is Steve Harrington really at a party if he doesn’t down an entire keg in seconds?

“You look really pretty, you know?” His words make you swallow harshly, knowing that his drunk words are kryptonite to your sober, hopeless, lovesick little heart.

You can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks, and you’re sure that if he continues staring at you with that look you can’t quite name in his eyes, you’ll be a walking heat advisory. You gently jab at his shoulder, dismissing him with a wave of your hands and a roll of your eyes. “Sure, sure. Let the alcohol talk.”

“It’s not the-” Steve doesn’t finish his sentence when Nancy joins your little party, nuzzling up to him. The sight makes your heart clench in a not-so-pleasant way, and you smile briefly to show good camaraderie, but deep down, you hate yourself for feeling this way.

Nancy greets Eddie, and you silently curse yourself for forgetting he was there. Knowing that he witnessed the entire interaction, you chuckle, sure he’ll find some way to tease you about it later.

You spend the next few minutes talking with Steve and Nancy, who soon enough become engrossed with each other. The whispers and drunken laughter they share make your eye twitch, which catches Eddie’s attention.

“You know, it’s getting pretty late, so I think we’re going to head out,” Eddie says, forcing a convincing yawn.

“Nooo,” Steve groans, unwrapping his arm from Nancy to place his hand on your shoulder. “You can’t go just yet. Stay. Please.” His bottom lip juts out just a bit as he pouts, begging you to stay with those big brown eyes, and a tiny part of you screams just how kissable he looks.

Instead of succumbing to that deep-down desire, you smile, tilting your head to look at him. “Sorry, Harrington. It appears you’ve exceeded your time limit.” You pat his hand, squeezing it gently before removing it. You swear you can feel his fingers curl around your palm, but he steps back in defeat before you can discern.

“It was fun talking with you guys, though. Who knows, maybe we’ll come to another par-”

You begin stepping away from him when a screech makes you and everyone else stop in their place. You turn to the source to find Tommy and Carol - of course, it’s them - standing atop a table with a microphone.

You have half a mind to leave, but for some reason, you feel compelled to stay.

“Hi, everyone! Hope you’re all having a fantastic time!” Carol starts, her words slurred and voice oh so annoying. Cheers erupt from the crowd, but she’s quick to quieten them with a hand in the air. “I have a little special announcement for one of our esteemed guests…”

She pauses dramatically, a mischievous look on her face. You’re not the only one who notices. Eddie leans down to whisper, “I think we should go.” You agree, feeling uneasy, but just when you turn to go, you hear your name.

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on you, Steve and Nancy included. You stare at Carol warily, wondering where she’s going with this.

“You see, little miss weirdo over there has a big fat crush on her best friend. But Steve is too busy fucking little miss perfect to give her the time of day.” Muttering and snickers and gasps of surprise sound around you as your heartbeat quickens. Tommy pulls your diary from his jacket, flipping it open to an earmarked page.

“‘Dear diary… I can’t believe I have a crush on Steve Harrington! I hate him and his perfect hair and charming smile and-’” Tommy pauses his reading to smirk. “Here’s the best part.” He pitches his voice annoyingly high, “‘I think I might just be in love with him, but of course, he has to be dating my sister, of all people.’”

If the humiliation doesn’t break you, seeing Steve and Nancy’s expressions as you slowly turn to them does. Nancy looks betrayed, and there’s a hint of anger in her eyes. You don’t blame her; you felt the same when you discovered she was dating Steve. Speaking of which, he looks confused; his brows pinch together, and his mouth is agape.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. What can you say? You don’t know. But you know that standing there while everyone looks at you isn’t helping you. Before you can register it, you’re running out of the house, pushing past everything in your way.

You don’t hear or see Steve marching right up to the table. “You’re real pricks, you know that?” He asks, snatching your diary from Tommy’s hands, sending him stumbling and falling off the table on his butt. Laughter erupts when Tommy falls. “Fucking assholes,” Steve sneers as he heads outside to look for you.

Eddie unlocks the van, and you’re about to hop in, ready to ditch this shit show, when someone grabs your wrist. You turn around to find Steve. He offers your diary to you. The thought of snatching it away crosses your mind before you remind yourself that although Steve begged to come along to the party, this whole shitshow wasn’t his fault.

So, instead, you gingerly take it from him, tucking it tight under your arm as if someone might come to steal it again. Then it’s tense - despite the cool night air sprinkling goosebumps along your exposed skin, the air feels unbearably thick, and you find yourself harshly swallowing the lump in your throat.

Steve is the one to break the silence.

“You never told me.” Those four words made you scoff bitterly, not at him but at the entire situation.

“You never asked,” is your retort.

Steve casts his gaze down to the ground, nodding solemnly. It’s another few seconds before he opens his mouth again. “I always thought it was Munson.” His confession shocks you. Is that why he’d always been so cross with Eddie?

“Well, now you know.” It’s unbearable standing here, trying to talk through this shitty situation. With a breath, you say, “I should go, Steve. No point in me hanging around.”

Steve falters, reaching an arm out to stop you from moving. “You can’t just walk away. We should talk-”

“Talk about what, Steve?” You pull your arm away from his grasp, fully turning to face him. “About how awful of a person I am. About how I fell in love with my best friend, and he chose my sister?” As you speak, frustrated tears fill your eyes, and Steve feels his heart break a little more. “Did you ever…” You breathe deeply, steeling yourself. “Did you… have you ever felt anything for me…?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, and had this been a different situation, you might have poked fun at him for looking like such a goofball. He finds it hard to meet your eyes, and though he never says a word, you already have your answer.

You scrunch your nose, blinking away the tears. You’ve already humiliated yourself enough tonight, and you won’t be adding crying to the list.

It’s then that you can hear music booming from inside the house - the rest of the partygoers continuing without a care, like some girl’s life didn’t just get flipped upside down and all around. You spot Nancy lingering near the entrance. She has this unreadable expression, but she’s not as angry as before. She looks sad, and that makes you feel even worse.

You tear your gaze away before looking at Steve, tears threatening to fall, and with a bittersweet smile, you say, “Tell Nancy I’m sorry for me, please. Goodbye, Steve.”

With those parting words, you quickly hop in Eddie’s van, and he knows to drive away without you even saying anything. You look out the rearview mirror to see Steve standing there, watching you leave.

Later that night, when you’re donning some of Eddie’s clothes, and he’s attempting to cheer you up, you pull out your diary one last time and write:

Dear (not so) secret diary,

Life is shit

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

#chaos-is-beautifvl #chaos.writes 🖋#chaos.requests 📞#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x wheeler!reader #eddie x steve x reader

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ask-azelf-nuzlocke · 2 months ago

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This is a genuine question: How long does it take you to make each update for your nuzlocke comic? I’m thinking of starting my own, but I don’t know where to start.

OoC: Sorry this one was in my inbox for so long! Each update varies greatly since Ask Azelf isn't a set amount of panels for each update. Usually, I script while making the sketch in CSP (I have a notes document to keep track of important plot things but mostly the dialogue is improvised on the spot, if tweaked during cleanup). After the sketch, I do the lineart with the default brush in a different layer, and then again to have the final lines be neater. Next, I colour the background before the characters (eating my veggies first). Finally, I add the text and draw the word balloons. For me, this whole process take a few hours but it's scattered since I'm often pretty busy, and I like to let an update breathe a little in the sketch stage so I can come back to it with a fresh eye. This is just my process, though! Your timeframe will look different depending on your art style, how long you want the story to be, and how many panels you dedicate to each scene. I made comics-friendly decisions during the Nuzlocke run's gameplay, such as making it a no-box run for the sake of having less characters to juggle, and making the comic have a limited, mostly monochrome palette helps save time too. Ultimately, you just have to start drawing/writing to know how long it'll take you. Don't forget the first Nuzlocke comic was made in MS Paint! If you look at some older, complete Nuzlocke comics, I encourage you to seek out the ones with the biggest art evolution to encourage you to get started no matter your skill level.

Ex: Here's a comparison of panels from YTWC's SoulSilver Nuzlocke comic, first update (2011) vs the Red fight (2018). I haven't read this one in forever but I remember being floored by the improvement here.

#ask #out of character #anonymous ask #art advice

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constantvariations · 4 months ago

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Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby 2: electric boogaloo

Something that will never not astound me about Full Metal Alchemist is just how tight the story is. Every scene and every character serves the story, which in turn serves the characters. There's no fluff, no detours, and no excess in cast, plot, or exposition

This comes into hyperfocus in the lead up to and on the Promised Day. Every character we've seen thus far, be they main, side, or support, has a role to play and their own reason for doing so. Each has a hand in saving the world

Even Yoki, the bumbling, self-serving comic relief, gets a moment in the spotlight when he hits Pride with a car to save Marcoh, Heinkel, and Alphonse. The best part? Despite it being a genuinely comedic moment in the midst of devestation, it doesn't destroy the tone. Not only has Yoki been a consistently silly character, but it's done in a way that serves the plot without overtaking it for the bit. That's such an incredibly tight line to walk and Arakawa walks it beautifully

Hard to say any of that about RWBY. It's extremely obvious the writers are flying by the seat of their pants towards a vast sea of nothing. That's why their characters and themes and general everything seems scattered and disconnected. Because it is. They don't know where they're going or even where they've been, so nothing is ever going to line up the way a proper story should

RWBY's story never serves the characters the way it should, and the writers are willing to break characters to force them into a role they were never meant to be in. Look no further than Weiss in V9, assigned comedic relief despite recent events, or Yang's weirdass optimism inside the whale during V8. These instances are so jarring because these characters have not been silly or optimistic since Beacon fell, and they're in the show to just... be there. Neither V8 nor V9 benefitted from these scenes, and you can pluck them out with no consequences. Hell, there'd be an improvement through lack of bathos

While both FMA and RWBY are large scale action stories, only one actually knows how to handle it

#rwde #yodeling into the void #almost done w the fma rewatch and it really is incredible to compare the two #obvs it cant be a 1:1 comparison but considering the overlap its still a helpful analysis #i cant help but think that blake is like someone tried to write Miles but gave him Scar’s backstory #itll never not boggle me that blake starts the story immediately deradicalized #where is her moment of confrontation? what is the Miles to her Scar? why does she switch?#these things are so important yet so absent #and rwby can never juggle its characters right nor can it split the party for efficiency #meanwhile ed and al are separated for literally months wo knowing if the other is even alive yet still manage to get shit done #we dive into greed and riza and kimblee and falman and grummar and-#its chaotic but it Works bc arakawa knows wtf she is doing #also smth thats worth talking abt but i aint got the time is how even the worst people get a chance at redemption #if dr marcoh had been in rwby he wouldve been killed but fma denied him that catharsis. he was given a chance to atone #had marcoh died then they never would have deciphered the notes or captured envy and heinkel would have died against pride and kimblee #hard to say how much the lack of redemption is due to the writers' beliefs and how much is due to their lack of skill #notice how the few they do grant 'redemption' to are written out immediately after?#these fools truly have no vision #no idea of what to do w the discomfort of wrongdoing. the weight of guilt. the neverending journey of thankless self betterment #also nothing in rwby is as brutal as mustang vs envy. its so beautiful in its horribleness #watching it rn and holy shit its just as amazing as the first time

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theaceofskulls · 2 months ago

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Okay, I've been playing through Xenoblade X Definitive Edition for a few weeks now and it's been a whole thing to basically come to terms with the fact that this is my least favorite Xenoblade with some stellar worldbuilding let down by it's main plot and execution.

The game backloads so much of its content which really burns me out since I'm committed to completing as much of its side content as possible before moving on because I don't think I'll return to this one after I put it away for a long, long time, which is unfortunate because a lot of that back half of content is payoff to side characters, fantastic looks at the alien races and how they're getting along, and general other fun stuff.

However, the game intensely suffers from the fact that your custom character and the side characters barely interact with the story or each other, and the main plot is very, very cookie cutter with little twists and turns to it at all.

Imagine Mass Effect if no one on any of the Normandy's interacted with one another, talked about things that happened in a mission, or acknowledged one except for 3 people or for a single line between squadmates after a fight, and there was nothing to the main plot until the final ten minutes of the game. The world would still be captivating and the characters themselves would still be fun, but it's all disjointed from each other.

This game is fantastic for tracing the development of the series and where it would improve, especially the definitive edition that adds more characters who actually do have interactions here and there in their storylines, but also for seeing how the series would go from 1 to 2 and 3 (with your class design from 3 directly pulling from the freeform nature of X's endgame when you unlock full customization for each class, and the ability to actually customize your party's skills as well compared to having them just be preset), and I actually really have enjoyed it enough to sink almost 90 hours into it, but it's the type of game that really shows its scars when you have another game on the horizon.

I'll also say that the definitive edition fixes so many awful design decision from the original, even if there are still some questionable ones in the game, and arguably even with the backloading of the game, it manages to end up with the majority of its content feeling like it's worth playing through rather than just being bloat.

But it's still disappointing that in a series with stories that I love, it's wrapped around 3 of its weaker characters and the rest of its cast is relegated to "side stories you play to explain what's up with these people who have way too few voice lines for how long this game is", not to mention one of those 3 mandatory story characters is basically the Jar Jar Binks of this series for me.

I still rank this game as one of my absolute favorites in progression of exploration, where the game's odd scattering of enemies of levels directs you through it in interesting ways, along with how gradual it unlocks its giant robots and how they recontexualize moving through the world. But then there's no denying that the feeling of its exploration runs out before you run out of things to do, and leaves you with a world you feel like you should've mastered, but that you have to grind levels out in to deal with the higher level enemies on the just-before-endgame quests.

The moment that really made me draft up this post though was realizing during the emotional core of the (previously, as this version added more missions) penultimate story quest that I just didn't care about the motivations of an antagonist, or honestly most of the antagonists by this point, because his motivations were extremely simple even as he was revealing a "shocking" secret (which honestly has been done better in other science fiction stories and doesn't feel like it holds up here since the game doesn't really examine the themes of inequality surrounding it in the leadup to it). I felt like I was trapped watching the party of characters that were the least likely to have meaningful reactions to it going through the motions while remembering the existential moments from the rest of the series and feeling let down.

Then I realized I would have to grind out almost half a dozen levels in order to recruit the final character that I wanted to grab before the initial finale despite the main plot pressuring me desperately to move onto said finale, and I looked at the map icons and realized I'd be playing this game for a full week more at the very least when I've had the itch to move onto another RPG for the past 2 or 3 by this point.

And again, it's weird to grapple with "I want this to be over" while also simultaneously enjoying all of the side content way more than the main plot.

Overall, I'd still recommend this game to people who enjoy exploration, sci fi settings (especially if you're the type to love watching interactions with alien species), and even Xenoblade fans, but I think it's important to enter into it with the correct expectations.

#xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles x

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abitohoney · 2 years ago

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Hustle - CH5: Rewards

AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Ran & Reader, Established Relationship, assassin reader, Fluff, Smut, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, horny idiots in love, Dom/sub, Dom Sevika, sub Reader, Humor, Banter, Choking, Spanking, Teasing, Light Sadism, Begging, Strap-Ons, Lesbian Sex, Aftercare, Gambling, Smoking, lack of understanding card games, totally winging this shit, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Semi-Public Sex, Rough Sex, Hair-pulling, reader is not the most graceful creature, but Sevika adores reader all the more for it, Jealousy, Marking, Orgasm Delay, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Hurt/Comfort, a Yordle OC that we will likely never see again but I had entirely too much fun writing, 69 (Sex Position)

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Looking to make your nights with Sevika a bit more… exciting, you suggest making use of your shared talent for playing cards. Together, the two of you take the Undercity, and even Topside, by storm. And what’s more exciting than the thrill of winning, or watching your opponents whine and gripe in defeat, or earning far more coin than the two of you could possibly spend? The release of pent-up sexual desire that seems to come with each and every win, that’s what.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3.

With more coin than either you or Sevika knew what to do with, you had spent the several weeks following the Piltover tournament working with the Undercity's most prominent chemtech and augmentation specialist. The same one that had done her old model. You had managed to meet with the man several times without Sevika's knowing, discussing all the upgrades you wanted to include in the design of her new arm.

As you led Sevika down the catwalk that led to the shop, you could sense her weariness, which only served to put you even more on edge. Though you were confident the arm would in fact be an improvement, you weren't so sure Sevika- or more specifically, her pride- would be so accepting of your help.

The bright, neon sign came into view and you anxiously glanced up at Sevika’s expression. She seemed to realize what was going on the moment she read the sign, her gaze dropping to yours, but her face remained stoic, unreadable.

You pushed open the iron door, the sound of the bell chiming above barely audible over the noise of machinery running in the back.

Sevika followed you to the wall of cabinets that separated the main part of the store from the actual workshop. Her gaze roamed over the various parts, canisters, instruments, and metal limbs that sat on shelves lining the walls.

You’d never really asked much about her arm. She’d always seemed to become quiet and distant whenever it came up. So you wondered if maybe coming back was stirring up some unwanted memories.

Hopefully it will be worth it.

While Sevika ‘busied’ herself by looking at a host of weapon-like augmentations scattered along the top of the counter over the cabinets, you poked your head into the back room.

Heinz- the tiny, old Yordle that ran the shop- was busy hunched over one of his machines, grinding away at a piece of metal. Goggles far too large for his little face obstructed his view of you in his periphery, and unfortunately the guy was damn near deaf after years of working with so much loud machinery, so you waited for him to pause.

“Hey! Heinz!” you hollered the moment the machine died down to a quiet hum.

His furry ears perked up and he flipped off the switch to the machine before turning in your direction.

“Oh! Hi! Yes! I didn’t hear the bell.”

He hasn’t heard the bell for years.

“No problem,” you called back.

“What?”

“No. Problem!” you yelled.

“Ah. Yes,” he replied with several nods, knocking his safety goggles right off his face. They fell to rest just below his neck, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Is she here?” he asked, rather loudly, as he approached the counter.

Eyesight was apparently going too. Sevika was standing not more than three feet to your left and maybe a foot back. “She sure is.”

“Now?”

You blinked a few times. “Yes. She is here now.” You wondered if he was this scatterbrained when he made her first arm. You honestly hoped he was otherwise you’d question if he was really fit to make this new one.

Heinz stepped up onto his little stool behind the counter, beady eyes finally falling on Sevika. “Oh! Good to see you, Susan!”

“It’s Sevika,” she gruffed.

“Ah, yes. Sara.”

Sevika released an impatient sigh, but didn’t bother attempting to correct him again.

He leaned across the counter, hand to the side of his mouth as he whispered, or rather spoke at a normal level which was a whisper to him, “Does she know why she’s here?”

Sevika’s impatient gaze drifted from the Yordle to your awkward expression.

“Ha. Uhm. No, she does not,” you replied, “Well, she’s probably starting to put two and two together.”

“What?”

“She’s probably put-” you started to repeat louder, “-NO!”

“Ah, yes. Would you like to tell her or shall I?” he asked, still ‘whispering’ loud enough for Sevika to hear loud and clear.

“I think I-” you paused again. You needed to be short and loud with this guy. “I WOULD LIKE TO.”

“Ah, yes. Of course. I’ll go grab it while you tell her.”

Heinz hopped down from his stool and disappeared into the back.

You turned to face Sevika, releasing an awkward laugh when you were met with a steely gaze.

“You going to explain what’s going on or just keep standing there with that dopey smile?”

God, she's crabby today… Well- every day, but especially today.

You took a deep breath, straightened up, then released a long sigh. “So, you remember a while back, when I came up with the suggestion to get into a tournament and make some good coin?”

She said nothing, but you took that as a ‘yes’. Or more like a ‘yes, now hurry this up’.

“You were having issues with your arm that day and I was thinking how great it would be to get you an improved one. So, well, that’s what I did with my share of the winnings.”

Just as she arched a brow, Heinz came waddling back out carrying what was obviously her new arm. It was much larger than him, yet he seemed to have no issue handling it.

Well, that’s got to be a good sign. Must be lighter.

“Take a seat, Sally” he chirped, standing on a stool beside a small table littered with parts and tools.

Sevika gave you one last stern look before taking a seat beside the Yodle.

He pushed her cape out of the way and began working on removing her existing arm. “Now, I’m going to have to work in some additional connections to you for this to work properly, which I’m sure you will recall, can be a bit painful and could even bring back some of that phantom limb pain.”

Sevika said nothing, her face unreadable as her gaze drifted between her arm and random places around the room.

You, however, could not hide the concern that painted your face. When you had spoken to him about this over the past several weeks, he had not mentioned any pain or discomfort that would be involved. Your stomach sank.

Maybe this hadn’t been the right choice.

That thought ate away at your insides while you watched her apparent discomfort.

Once Sevika’s old prosthetic was removed from the shoulder socket, the Yordle began working on connecting the new electrodes.

You took a seat on Sevika’s opposite side, hoping to provide her some comfort with your closeness.

Her eyes darted everywhere, anywhere but at the sight of Heinz working on her arm. She was clearly trying to distract herself and remain calm, or at least appear calm. Pinched brows and worry lines gave her state away though.

Your gaze dropped to her human hand balled into a tight fist on her lap, her knuckles damn near white. Cautiously, so as not to startle her, you slid a hand over her fist. She immediately recoiled, pulling her hand away. The look she gave you damn near broke your heart. She was fighting between her desire to appear angry and her natural response of pain and fear. Those beautiful silver eyes of hers sparkled as if on the verge of tears. You were certain you’d never seen her so distraught.

You tried again to touch her, this time placing your hand on her thigh. She either didn’t mind or didn’t notice.

Heinz hummed loudly to some tune you’d never heard before, but it was drowned out with the thoughts- concerns- swirling through your head. This was likely stirring up bad memories for her.

Leaning in close to Sevika’s ear, you shakily whispered, “I’m so sorry Sevika. This was supposed to be a gift. To make you happy. To make you feel good.” You straightened up as she turned, her glistening eyes meeting your own.

Fuck.

Silco’s number one assassin and muscle were both on the verge of fucking tears.

Sevika’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. She said nothing, but you could tell she wanted to by how her lips parted and then shut again. She turned away again, staring off into nothingness.

You took a deep breath, then released it with a long, quiet sigh before leaning into her ear again. “Would you like a distraction?” When she said nothing, remaining turned away, you tried pushing a little more. “Want me to tell you all the cool shit this bad boy will do once we get you all hooked up?”

That caught her attention.

She turned back to you, gaze slightly less wavering.

Thank god.

You let a soft smile grace your lips as you started to slowly explain the advancements, your fingers idly caressing the top of her thigh as you spoke. “It’s made of a metal alloy and dipped in a chemical bath that makes it lighter, stronger, and completely submersible. Though the chemical film needs to be applied every other month, I’ve already paid that off and it’s only a ten minute process.”

That didn’t seem to impress her much, or at least not enough to distract her. But it also wasn’t the best improvement.

“No more loud, exposed fan. This baby is gonna be liquid-cooled via a special variant of shimmer we worked with Singed to create.”

Still not much improvement, but you had plenty more to go.

“Besides still being able to use that sexy-ass blade super-heated, that cooling feature can also be applied to it and cause a different kind of pain.”

Now that seemed to catch her interest. That or the way you’d emphasized the pain bit with an obvious sick delight in your tone.

The corner of her mouth twitched. An almost smirk.

“But not just your blade. Your fingers too,” you added with a small grin.

You watched the gears turn in her head.

“You can control the temperature as well. Not just to damaging levels, but also soothing- pleasurable levels,” you added with a wink.

She quirked a brow. Her eyes darted between you and the Yordle.

“Don’t worry,” you spoke in your normal tone, “He’s more deaf than a naked mole rat.”

Heinz continued to work, humming his obnoxious tune and completely oblivious to anything you were saying.

“It’s smoother, has less exposed joints, and can articulate more than the previous. AND- the claws are retractable now. So you can use those fingers on or in more… sensitive objects.”

There’s that smirk.

Sevika’s lips curled into her signature haughty grin, and just as Heinz finished adding in the new connection points.

“Alright, let’s get this on and give it a try,” the old Yordle squawked.

Both you and Sevika turned your attention to her shoulder as he shoved the arm into the socket with a surprising amount of strength, then gave it an equally hard turn to latch it into place.

“Go on, Sandra,” give it a try.

Sevika peered at you, to which you shrugged and offered her a small smile. She lifted her arm, shiny and new, embellished with bits of gold as you had requested. She deserved something fancy given what she’s done- what she’s sacrificed- for the sake of creating the future Zaun. One after the next, she flexed each individual finger. Each one moved surprisingly smoothly, with even more precision than her old prosthetic. Surprisingly, she was even able to retract and release her claws without the need for explanation.

You could see the impressed look gradually building on her face as she moved each joint, testing the speed, precision, and capability of each.

“I tapped into some unused nerves for the new temperature control for the blade and your fingers,” Heinz explained, “Still activated and deactivated the same way as it was for the plasma blade, only now the strength of the signal controls the temperature. Will take some getting used to. Fingers are activated by the muscles you would have used to bend your natural wrist, so it shouldn't be too hard to relearn.”

Like the goddamn showoff she was, Sevika immediately activated said upgrade, the three of you watching as her fingertips grew red hot, then quickly switched to an icy blue-white.

So fucking hot.

And cool.

You couldn't wait to see her use that to kill some bastard.

Or to tease you.

She held her arm out in front of her, the blade slicing through the air awfully close to your face.

Her smug grin grew wider and you rolled your eyes.

“Looks like everything is in functioning order!” the Yordle chirped loudly and hopped off his stool. He paused, then turned to you. “Oh! Did you tell her about the vibrating function?”

Your cheeks burned. You had planned on bringing that up in private.

“Still not sure why she wanted that,” he said to Sevika, “but we should test that before you leave.” Somehow, he was completely oblivious to the way your cheeks threatened to burst into flames, or that Sevika’s eyebrows had skyrocketed.

“Just above your wrist is a little access panel. Pop that open and push the little button,” he explained.

Sevika’s now deviously sparkling eyes fell on your nervous ones. After retracting her blade, she flipped the panel open, and sure enough, there was a small, red button. She pressed it, her lips immediately curling into a sinister little smile as her hand started vibrating.

“You can control the intensity and patterns of the vibrations- which I truly have no idea why your friend had so many strange requests- but those can be controlled by pressing the button until you find the desired setting.”

“No idea why you wanted this,” Sevika sneered, watching your face as she cycled through each setting. Her brow rose and arched at each wild setting, clearly amused with your perverted and selfish addition to her new arm.

You laughed awkwardly. “It’s for back massages.”

“What?” Heinz hollered.

“IT’S FOR BACK MASSAGES!” you hollered right back, perhaps with a bit too much venom behind it that time.

Sevika however, was terribly amused if that damn mirth-filled smirk and glint in her eyes was anything to go by.

“Ah. Yes,” the little Yordle agreed with a nod. “Well Savannah,” he said with a nod to Sevika, “and-” he paused at you, clearly having forgotten your name as well, “Shelly’s friend. I wish you both a good day. Pleasure doing business with you. And if you have any problems, you know where to find me!”

And with that, he plopped his oversized goggles back over his eyes and waddled back to his workshop.

You turned to Sevika, whose expression had fallen right back into that damn stoic and unreadable state.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked softly.

“What?!” she asked incredulously. “Why would I be?”

You looked down at the floor as you spoke, “You seemed incredibly upset about the arm- and I was afraid it was causing you a lot of pain, and discomfort, and maybe bringing back some traumatic memories- I- I just hadn’t even thought of that. I really wanted you to like this. I wanted to give you something great. Cause you’ve been so wonderful to me and-”

You paused your ramblings for a moment, and braved taking a peek at her expression.

Oh fuck.

There was that damn heart-breakingly vulnerable look again. And she was the one unable to look at you.

Gods did it hurt to see her like that.

“Baby-” she started quietly, her raspy voice threatening to break. She released a long, defeated sigh and shook her head. She met your gaze and forced herself to continue. “It did hurt. It did bring back some haunting memories-”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach.

“-But,” she continued before you could spiral, “this is-” she paused again to hold her arm out. “-incredibly thoughtful. I can tell you put a lot of thought into this. And I…” she trailed off, her voice wavering.

But she didn't need to say more. You knew she was trying to thank you.

You stepped in front of her, toe-to-toe, and slowly wrapped your arms around her waist. You closed your eyes and pulled her into a tight embrace. For a moment, she merely stood there. Finally, after another long sigh, she wrapped her arms around you to return the hug.

It was as if all the remaining tension slipped away- from both of you. You could feel her muscles relax against you, the fingers of both her human and prosthetic hands gently caressing your sides.

You felt her press her lips gently against the top of your head.

“Thank you.”

She whispered it so softly, you weren’t sure you’d heard her right. But when you tilted your head back to peer up at her, you saw the genuine little smile playing on her lips. Then it curled higher, and you knew she was thinking something clever.

“Ready to go really try this out?” she purred.

Her fingers slipped down to give your ass a rough squeeze.

You beamed up at her. “You really need to ask?”

She chuckled, the deep rumble vibrating against your chest.

Gods did you love her laugh.

She wrapped her arm around your waist, guiding you towards the door. As she swung open the door and allowed you to step out first, she bent down to bring her lips to your ear. “Guess we’ll see just how wet these new fingers can really get.”

Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you fought back the big smile that threatened to take over your face. Sevika's arm wrapped around your exposed middle did little to ease that excitement.

Sevika bent down, bringing her mouth to your ear, breath tickling the tiny hairs along your neck. "No peeking," she whispered.

You could hear her own excitement hidden in that low tone of hers. Had you not been wearing those damn heels she insisted you buy again, you would have been fucking skipping. "I'm not!"

"Good girl," she whispered against your hair. She pressed a soft kiss to the side of your temple, and you could feel her playful smirk.

You heard the familiar grind and clank of the lift coming to a halt and swinging open.

Where the hell was she taking you?

Sevika gently guided you onto the lift, closing the door with a soft click.

You turned towards her, keeping your eyes closed as instructed, but titled your head back as if looking up at her. "Where are you taking me?" You asked quietly, unsure if you two were alone.

You felt her arms wrap around your middle and pull you closer until your near-bare chests touched. "Gonna have to be patient, Princess."

You could hear the smirk in her tone, and you couldn't help but smile back. You wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your head just below her shoulder.

The lift traveled for quite some time, most certainly past the Promenade level. Which meant wherever she was taking you would be Topside. Perhaps that explained why she had you both wearing your fancy outfits again.

“Aren’t you afraid of being caught again? Especially in the same outfits?” you asked.

“We’ll be fine. Won’t be any Enforcers where we’re going.”

Someplace secluded?

Unable to contain your elation, you buried your face in her exposed chest to hide the enormous smile that spread across your face.

A soft chuckle made her chest shake against you. Her human hand stroked along the bottom of your spine.

When the lift finally came to a stop, you took in a deep breath, reveling in the fresh air that blew through the iron bars of the lift with a gentle breeze.

With her metal hand resting on the small of your back, Sevika carefully guided you out and onto the pavement.

With your eyes closed, you could truly hear all the commotion of the people filling the streets. That included the hushed whispers, most assuredly directed towards the two of you.

And as those voices grew louder and more dense the further you two walked, you were truly at a loss as to what her surprise could be.

Then you heard it.

That familiar, odd magical sound of the hexgate. And it was close. Very close.

"Two?" You heard a man ask in your direction, followed by Sevika pulling something from her jacket pocket. Then she was guiding you up a ramp.

Oh. My. God.

"Sevika!" You exclaimed as quietly as you could.

She said nothing, but gave your waist a gentle squeeze.

"Don't open your eyes," she repeated.

Your stomach did several backflips. You were quite certain you knew what was going on. It was just a matter of what exactly it would entail. That and when the hell she would let you look and thank her properly.

You heard more hustle and bustle, various accents not from around there, while she continued to lead you through what you assumed were hallways.

It wasn't until you heard the sound of a door closing and the click of its lock that you two were finally left in silence.

And alone.

"Can I look now?!" You asked, not bothering to hide the enthusiasm or impatience in your voice.

Sevika brought her lips to your ear again. "Go on."

You opened your eyes to find not only what you expected, but much- much more.

Directly in front of you was a large sliding glass door overlooking the outside of the airship you were on. An absolutely stunning view, with a private balcony. You almost didn't notice any other details besides that as you scurried over to peer out the clear glass and down to the tiny people scattered along the docks below. Your room must have been near the widest point of the sphere, leaving you two with the best- most unobstructed- view. You spun around with the intention of running to Sevika, but that was when you caught the remaining details of your room.

It was dimly lit, but not like the cheap lighting of the Undercity. It was intentional. Mood setting. All the furnishings were made of dark colors, much of it black. Your color palette of choice, but with mixes of deep hues of red and gold accents, also part of your favorite palette since falling head over heels for Sevika.

A small table for two sat before another window with an equally amazing view, already set with a bottle of whiskey- which made you chuckle out loud- plates, fancy dinnerware, candles, and menus.

The large four-post bed in the center of the room was furnished with the softest, sexiest looking black sheets you'd ever seen, despite the fact that there was likely to be very little sleeping going on in that room. Not with you two in it.

Then you finally met Sevika's gaze. Her dark lips pulled up at one corner, a small grin at the sight of your beaming face.

"Sevika, this is so- how did you even know I wanted to ride an airship?" You asked, absolutely flabbergasted that she had set all this up.

She strode over to stand in front of you. "Why don't we talk over dinner," she suggested, tilting her head towards the small table.

"O-okay," you stammered, still overcome with emotion.

Before you could turn away, she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you close. Thumb and forefinger captured your chin between, tilting your head back so she could slowly bring her lips to yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, hands sliding up the silky material barely covering her chest to fist the collar of her jacket. You pulled yourself closer, reveling in the softness of her lips.

When she pulled away, you felt almost breathless despite the kiss being so much more tender than her usual wild, passionate ones. It took you a moment before you could even open your eyes, too lost in the moment and the feelings buzzing through your mind and body. But when you did, you were met with uncharacteristically soft gray eyes.

Warmth spread through your cheeks, her attentive gaze leaving you feeling entirely too giddy. Feeling suddenly shy, you looked away and let your hands fall back to your sides.

Just when you thought she couldn't be any sweeter, she surprised you yet again by pulling your chair out for you.

"Thank you," you said softly, completely genuine, unlike when the men at the tournament had done the same thing. This was entirely different, and meant so much more coming from Sevika.

Sevika's charm didn't end there either. After you took a seat, she opened the bottle of whiskey and poured you both a glass.

You peered up at her with a smile, pleased to find the corner of her mouth tugged into a small grin despite her obvious attempt not to. "You going to cook and serve dinner too?" You teased playfully.

As if on cue, you heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Sevika called out as she took a seat across from you.

The door opened to reveal a man dressed in a black and white suit, a folded towel draped over his arm, clearly a waiter.

You quickly snatched up your menu, unsure what kind of options you were going to find. After a quick scan, it was quite clear this was nothing like Jericho’s. And fuck if you even knew what half the things were, let alone how to pronounce them.

With the waiter at the side of your quaint table, you tried to catch Sevika’s gaze. Eventually, she did notice your pleading look, but simply peered back down at her menu with a crooked little grin.

Ass.

She had to know you were clueless as to what, or how, to order.

“We’ll have this,” Sevika stated to the waiter as she pointed to her menu.

Okay. Maybe that was a bit harsh.

“Of course, ma’am. Fine choice. And would you care for your dessert now or later?” he asked as he took both your menus.

“Just send it all in at once,” Sevika replied, then met your eyes as she continued, “We’d like to be alone as much as possible.”

“As you wish,” he replied with a bow before turning to leave.

As soon as you heard the door click shut, you blurted out, “What the hell did you just order us? Could you even read it?”

Sevika took a sip of her whiskey, but not without you fist catching the way her lips tugged higher. “Might have studied up a bit beforehand,” she admitted with a smug smile. “ Authentic Noxian cuisine,” she added in a mocking tone, clearly a jab at whoever had told her that was what they’d be serving.

“Why Noxian? Because of our disguises?”

“That, and that’s where we’ll be traveling.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?! Really?!”

Sevika nodded.

“How long are we going?”

“One week.”

“WHAT?! And Silco okayed that?”

“Wasn’t up for negotiation.”

You gaped at your lover like a damn fish. Had she really told Silco you two were going? Just like that? No asking? Just laid it out like he had no say?

“Wow,” was all you could manage to get out.

She chuckled lowly. “So, Princess Ameya, do you have any clue why Ran chose our names?”

“Well, yeah. They chose Princess for me to be an ass and give you an excuse to keep calling me that pet name despite us supposedly not knowing each other. And made you a warband leader because, well-” you swiped your hand in a horizontal motion in front of you, “- just look at you.”

Another, slightly louder and more mocking chuckle erupted from her chest.

“Not our titles, Princess. Our names.”

You took a sip of your own drink. “Ameya and Shakti?”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t know. Because they’re Noxian?”

“Not quite.”

“Well, I give up. Just tell me already, Shakti,” you replied with a dramatic roll of your eyes.

“For their meanings.”

“Which are?”

“Shakti- for ability and strength.”

Oh boy.

You rolled your eyes again. Ran wasn’t wrong for picking that one for Sevika, but god she did not need her ego stroked any further.

Then her smug smile faded into something more– adoring? “Ameya- for boundless devotion.”

Oh.

Your expression softened. Now you felt like the ass.

Not only was that incredibly sweet of Ran, but what touched you even more, was how that seemed to affect Sevika.

“Sevika, I…” You trailed off, not sure what to say. It didn’t matter anyway. A knock at the door brought an abrupt end to that conversation.

“Come in,” you called out this time, unsure if the interruption was an unwelcome one or a saving grace. For you or Sevika.

The waiter entered carrying a large tray full of food, followed by yet another waiter with a smaller sized tray. The first one, the one that had originally taken your order, emptied the various plates onto your shared table.

There were several courses worth of food. Far more than the two of you could possibly eat. Fancy hors d'oeuvres that you swear were too pretty to eat. Assorted vegetables, fruit, bread, and meats filled the other plates. Though you could not exactly identify any dish by name, you could tell that each one contained at least one of your favorite ingredients. Sevika had obviously picked them out for that very reason.

You bit the inside of your cheek, once again fighting the urge to smile broadly.

Sevika could tell though. When you met her gaze, you found her watching you intently, the corner of her mouth tugging upward at your obvious delight.

The other waiter, younger and clearly new given how he nearly dropped his tray, set it on a small end table just behind Sevika.

Curious, you leaned to your side to peer around her.

Dessert!

And it looked just like one of your favorites you remembered enjoying as a child.

“Is there anything else we can get either of you?” the older waiter asked.

Sevika turned to you.

You shook your head. There was enough food on those two tables to feed all of Silco’s crew.

“We're good,” Sevika stated gruffly.

With that, the two waiters nodded and took their leave.

“Sevika!” you gasped the moment the door shut behind them, “There is so much fucking food here!”

“Wasteful,” she muttered, but you caught the way she smirked at your enthusiasm to dig in.

The two of you had stuffed yourselves silly. Or at least you did. You weren’t sure silly could ever apply to Sevika without any sort of negating word preceding it. You did, however, make sure you left just enough room for some dessert.

“You’re not going to eat the cherry?” you asked, flabbergasted as you watched Sevika pull hers off the dessert and set it aside.

“No.”

“Can I have it?”

Sevika shrugged her shoulders, but eyed you wearily when you rose from your seat to saunter over with a suspicious smile on your face.

Making sure she was watching you, you plucked up the cherry by the stem and slowly brought it to your mouth. With a very deliberate- and sensual- swipe of your tongue, you licked the remaining cream from the fruit. An overly enthusiastic moan rose from your throat as the sweet taste filled your mouth.

Sevika shook her head.

There was no fooling you though. You saw how her mouth curled into a tiny crooked grin at your little performance. So you continued to play.

You made a show of wrapping your lips around the cherry before pulling it from the stem. More inappropriate moans filled the room as you chewed and swallowed the sweet red fruit.

And then, for the cherry on top (pun intended), you called her attention back to your mouth. “Watch this.” You were met with a bored expression, but you knew she’d find this entertaining. Even if she may not admit it.

You put the stem in your mouth, using your tongue to expertly fold, curl, and push it into a small knot. Trick complete, you stuck your tongue out, plucked the knot from your tongue, and tossed it onto Sevika’s plate.

She stared down at it for a moment, face unreadable, before finally turning her attention back to you with a smirk.

Ha!

She was impressed!

Or so you thought.

“If your tongue is so bored you need to do silly parlor tricks with it-” she sneered, and you realized this wasn’t going where you’d thought it was. “-why don’t I give you something better to occupy it with.”

“But what about my dessert?”

Sevika arched a single brow. “ This-” she emphasized as she turned to face you with spread thighs, “- is your dessert, Princess.”

Heat bloomed in your core and spread throughout your lower half. A dull ache followed in its wake when your eyes fell to the apex of those powerful thighs.

You slowly dropped to your knees between the spread of her legs, eyes locked on hers. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. God, were you hungry for her. Your eyes drifted to the dessert lying untouched on her plate. But you were hungry for that too.

"You want both, don't you?"

Your gaze darted back to her, eyes wide, fearful you had upset her. To your surprise, her smirk still remained. “Can I have both?” you asked softly.

“So greedy,” she teased.

“You could have both too,” you offered with a sly smile.

She arched a brow. “That so?”

“Mhm,” you answered with a nod.

She said nothing more, but picked up her fork and cut a small piece of dessert. Gray eyes fell to your lips again as she brought it to your mouth.

Wrapping your lips around the fork, you let your eyes flutter shut and a moan pull from your throat as you slowly slid the sweet treat off and into your mouth.

Sevika hummed softly, appreciatively.

Eyes open again, you peered at her own mouth. “Do I get to feed you too?” you asked with pleading eyes.

She chuckled softly before handing the fork to you.

With a giddy grin on your face, you rose higher on your knees and cut a piece of equal size.

Sevika looked as if she was fighting back her amusement as you excitedly brought the fork up to her mouth. “Say ‘ah’,” you said playfully.

She deadpanned, her lips pulled into a straight line, and for a moment you worried she may have changed her mind.

“Just- don’t,” she grunted.

“Ok. Sorry.” Your lie was more than evident with how you continued to smile up at her.

She finally opened her mouth, but only just enough for you to slip the bite inside. Unlike you, she did not add any theatrics whatsoever to her eating.

Party pooper.

You handed the fork back to her and she fed you another, considerably larger bite. This time she was the one to wear the grin, watching with mirth as you attempted to open wide enough. She didn’t allow you the time to make a show of it either, shoving the piece in immediately. Cream smeared across your lips where it didn’t fit.

“Uh-uh,” Sevika chided before you could attempt to lick your lips clean. When you obediently paused, she dragged the pad of her thumb sensually across the crease of your lips.

Before she could pull that digit away, you wrapped your lips around it and sucked, swirling your tongue around the tip and cleaning it of all the sweet cream.

She watched your mouth with unabashed lust, pupils dilating. Once satisfied with your teasing, she pulled her thumb back out with a wet pop.

“Good girl,” she murmured.

Just as she had given you an oversized bite, you in turn did the same for her. And you made sure to get cream on those delicious dark lips of hers too. She, however, seemed far less amused by it than you were. But you’d change that.

Without warning, you grabbed a fistful of the collar of her jacket and pulled her down to you. She released a startled grunt, which you ignored, and promptly ran the tip of your tongue across her top lip, then the bottom.

You had expected her to pull away, but to your surprise, you felt her flesh fingers slip behind your head and her lips pressed into yours. Your short startled gasp dissolved into a soft moan when her tongue slipped between your lips.

Neither of you were in the most comfortable position, but Sevika was quick to remedy that. Both her hands slipped around and beneath your ass. Fingers sank into the plush of each cheek as she hoisted you up into her lap while her tongue continued to explore your mouth.

Hands still firmly gripping her jacket, you tried to match her fervor by pulling her closer. It was impossible though, given how her tongue easily dominated yours.

Heart hammering in your chest, you felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. Finally, you broke the kiss. Struggling to catch your breath, you gazed down at her wantonly. “I- I’ll take that- other dessert- now.”

That was all it took for her to lift you up as she rose from her chair.

With your legs wrapped around her waist and your arms around her neck, you locked eyes with hers. Her mouth found yours again, kissing you hungrily as she carried you towards the bed.

She crawled onto the bed, holding your body close to her. She carried you up to the pillows before dropping you rather unceremoniously onto them and subsequently breaking the kiss.

She knelt over you, gray eyes nearly black with lust.

“Gonna be hard on me now?” you asked breathlessly, a playful smile playing on your lips.

“Is that what you want?” she husked.

“So I get to choose?”

She sat up, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it aside without looking. “I didn’t say that.”

Your gaze fell to the expanse of exposed flesh between the generous opening in her dress shirt before darting back up to her face. “But you ask-”

“Asked if that’s what you want.” Her mouth curled into a lopsided grin and you knew she was just toying with you. She pulled her top off and tossed it aside, then unfastened the belt at her waist, making short work of that as well.

You watched her undress, admiring the view of her swiftly stripping down her pants and underwear. "Is both an option for this too?" you asked and smiled up at her.

She gazed at your smile adoringly. "You're just never satisfied with one thing, are you Princess?" She kicked off her shoes and socks, quickly slipping her clothing the rest of the way off before straddling your chest.

Fuck, you could already smell her arousal.

"I just want to have my cake and eat it too," you quipped.

"Then that's what you'll get." Sevika husked as she lined herself up over your face.

Flesh fingers slid through your hair until they rested at the back of your head. She carefully lifted your head up as she sank lower.

Your breaths came on quicker, excitement already building. Tongue out and ready, you let your eyes flutter shut as her wet folds met your lips. The moment the taste of her filled your mouth, you felt your body temperature rise. Your arms moved on their own accord, wrapping around the powerful thighs on either side of your head. Your hands slid up the sides until they rested comfortably over her hips.

The low, quiet groan that pulled from her throat shot straight to your core. The ache built fast, spreading down your legs. With each swipe of your tongue along her entrance, you could hear her own breathing becoming more strained, encouraging you to work your tongue more.

Using the grip on her hips as leverage, you dipped your tongue inside her cunt and pulled her against you, sinking as deep as you could. With the tip of your tongue curled and pressed along her soft walls, you slowly drug back out.

“Fuck, baby,” Sevika cursed under her breath.

Fingernails dug into your scalp. You welcomed the sensation, releasing your own moan against her wet cunt. You licked a stripe across the entirety of her entrance, tip of your tongue pulling back just before reaching the bundle of nerves above.

Sevika bucked her hips toward your face. Her clit dragged along your nose, another groan rising from her throat. “I’m gonna- fuck that pretty face- so good,” she ground out while she rocked against your face.

With your tongue pushed out as far as you could manage, you allowed her to set the pace. Your hands at her hips helped guide her motions, and keep her from completely suffocating you. Not that you would have minded that.

The tension quickly built for both of you, but all you could manage to ease your own was to rub your thighs together.

Her pace quickened, breaths ragged and grunts broken. It was maddening how hot she was like this. You slowly opened your eyes, peering up past her sweat-slick abs and heaving breasts. Her face contorted in pleasure and concentration, brows pinched and lips parted. Her eyes were focused on where her cunt met your wet face, but you weren’t so certain she could truly see it. The blacks of her eyes had almost completely taken over the gray.

You released a keening whimper against her, mind reeling with how turned on you were. Unable to take it any longer, you slid one hand off her thigh and beneath the skirt of your dress to circle your clit. Your eyes closed again, relishing in the sounds of her grunts, panting, and broken groans. The feeling of her soaked pussy dragging along your tongue and nose combined with your own touch was dizzying.

God, you would gladly have her like this all fucking night if it weren’t for how sore your poor jaw would get.

Then, all of a sudden, she stopped.

Your eyes flew open to peer up at her. She was still pressed against your tongue and nose, but no longer moving. Her eyes were glossed over, barely open as they peered down at you. Her chest still heaved with her ragged breaths.

Did she already cum?

There was no way. You’ve had her cumming far too many times. You knew how her body reacted when she did, and she definitely had not gone through any of the usual.

Before you could attempt to move your mouth enough to ask, she finally grunted out, “Take your clothes off and lay on your side.” She moved off to kneel next to you.

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded. “Was I not doing well enough?”

She looked as if she was about to get angry until she caught the sincere concern in your eyes.

"No, baby. You- were doing great,” she panted. Then her lips curled into a smirk, or at least as much of a smirk she could manage given how worked up she was. “I want my dessert too.”

Your eyes went wide with realization. You two had not done that before. More than eager to give it a try, you quickly- or as quickly as you could given the complexity of your skimpy dress- stripped down.

You laid on your side as instructed.

“Lift your top leg,” you grunted as she lay down in the opposite direction on her side, facing you.

Obediently, you bent your leg and rested your foot on the bed and out of her way. You watched her scoot her lower half closer to your face before lifting her leg into the same position as yours, leaving her glistening cunt wide open for you.

Eager to get back to it, not to mention receive your own pleasure, you rested your head on the thigh she had lying on the bed. You could feel the mattress shift as she adjusted more, swinging her other leg over your head. Then you felt the tickle of her hair and the weight of her head on your thigh.

“You’re already so wet Princess,” she huffed, still not quite recovered from your previous ministrations. “You really get so worked up just eating pussy?”

“Your pussy,” you clarified.

You could feel her smirk without even seeing her.

With one hand firmly gripping her asscheek, you pulled her closer to your face and wrapped your lips around her swollen bud. Her hips jerked, pushing her cunt against your nose. You smiled against her, but she wiped that clear off your face the moment you felt her tongue dip between your wet folds.

“Oh god,” you groaned, releasing her from your mouth.

She dipped her tongue in further, her chin bumping against your clit.

This was going to be very difficult.

You took her clit back between your lips, alternating between light suction and teasing swirls or flicks of your tongue.

Sevika took a slightly different approach, fucking you with her tongue. She slid in quickly, chin pressing against your clit each time, then drug back out slowly.

Any tension you had lost in that short intermission to change positions immediately started to rebuild. You were pretty sure it did for Sevika too given how hot and ragged her breaths felt between your legs.

The moment her hips started rocking, you knew she was getting close. Your face was coated in her fluids, but it only made that coil in your belly pull tighter. Her tongue worked up to match the speed of her thrusting, bringing you close to the edge as well.

Mind filled with the haze of pleasure, you started to lose the ability to control your lips and tongue.

“Don’t you stop, or I will!” Sevika growled against your cunt.

The rumble of her voice resonated all the way through your lower half and you almost came right then and there. “No! Please don’t stop,” you cried out. “I’m sorry, it just feels so-” your last word was cut off by her wet slit slamming against your face.

Fucking impatient.

Your fingers tightened their grip on her ass, trying to ground yourself and manage her movement so could return your attention to her clit. Lips wrapped back around the swollen bud, you sucked and licked, trying to work a rhythm you knew would get her going.

“That’s it,” Sevika grunted. “Fuck, yeah baby. Don’t stop.” Now the one struggling to utilize her mouth, she slipped two fingers inside you, clear to the last knuckle.

You whined against her, eyes squeezed shut tight as you desperately tried to focus on getting her to completion so you could then have your own.

And then- praise whatever deity heard your cry for help- her top leg came crashing down, sandwiching your head between her powerful thighs. Her hips jerked erratically, cunt dragging against your face as her orgasm took over her body. Her fingers faltered inside you. Not that it mattered though. The moment you felt that spurt of warm liquid coat your tongue and fill your mouth, you were falling off the cliff with her.

Unable to pull away from the death grip of her thighs, your muffled cries drowned against her slick hole. Your toes curled and uncurled as shock after shock of pleasure shook through your body.

“Shit, baby!” Sevika cursed.

Her words were barely a hum between the clamp of her thighs and the blood roaring in your ears.

After the last aftershocks died off, the two of you simultaneously rolled away from each other and collapsed onto your backs.

You gazed up at the black chandelier hanging from the ceiling, lost in a daze. Your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, heart still hammering in your chest,

“That was so fucking hot,” you panted. You shifted your head, craning your neck to peer down at Sevika. She was in the same position, looking back at you nearly as fucked out as you were. However, her face was completely coated with your release. Far more than usual.

Your eyes went wide as saucers.

“Oh my god Sevika. Your face!”

“I know,” she huffed. “I felt it.” Her lips pulled into a weak smirk. “You must have really enjoyed that position.”

“I did,” you admitted with a shy smile. “That was so fucking sexy. Difficult. But sexy.”

“Hmm,” she hummed with a crooked grin.

You wiped the excess fluid from your face with the back of your hand as she flipped over and turned to crawl up your body.

She hovered over your face for a moment, just wearing that haughty grin that always left you wanting to slap her or fuck her. Or both.

You opened your mouth to ask her what she found so damn amusing when her slick-coated lips suddenly crashed into yours. Your gasp quickly dissolved into a soft moan when she pushed her tongue inside your mouth, forcing you to taste your own release. Your hands slid up and around her back to pull her flush against your body.

The two of you were a fucking mess. Her mouth- no- her whole face, and now yours as she kissed you sloppily. Your thighs. Her thighs. And the longer you two kissed, the more you two ground against each other, spreading your slick up each other's stomachs,

Before the two of you could get too worked up again, Sevika finally broke the kiss and ceased her motions. You peered up at her through half-lidded eyes. Both your chest and hers heaved with renewed excitement and desire.

“As much as I want to fuck you again, I’m spent from this morning.” she huffed.

You smiled up at her. This mornin g had been a bit of a fuck fest when the two of you were in the shower. Memories of that weren’t exactly helping your current predicament though. But you were tired too.

“Maybe later?” you asked with a cheeky smile.

You were met with her crooked grin. “If you’re a good girl.”

“And if I’m bad?”

“We’ll do it twice.”

You laughed, more than happy with either of those outcomes.

Sevika rolled over and onto her back, her human arm pulling you with her so you curled up against her side.

You gave her cheek a quick peck before snuggling up closer to her warm body.

You’re not sure how long you two were lying there in your post-coital bliss, but you both had drifted in and out of sleep several times. You lay tangled in the soft, black sheets, limbs just as tangled with Sevika’s. Your head rested just below her shoulder, her heartbeat a lulling melody in your ear. Your fingers traced along the smooth, hard planes of her abs.

Her flesh fingers combed through your hair while her metal ones traced random patterns along your skin.

Despite how delightfully relaxed and comfortable it felt to be snuggled up to her, the two of you were unfortunately terribly hot after your romp. Not to mention Sevika was just a natural furnace.

“I need to cool off,” you said softly.

“Hmm,” she hummed, chest rumbling beneath your head.

“Come outside with me?” you asked, lifting your head to peer down at her.

Her lazy gaze met yours, but she said nothing.

You pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “Please?”

With a resigned sigh, she started to sit up.

After placing one more kiss, this time on her scarred cheek, you rolled off her and started gathering up your clothing, which was really just your skimpy dress.

“Go on. I’ll grab us a drink,” Sevika stated while she finished pulling her pants up.

The moment you stepped out onto the balcony you were greeted by a chilly breeze. You wrapped your arms across your chest, hands rubbing up along the sides of your arms, elbows resting on the golden railing.

Sevika appeared next to you shortly after, a glass of whiskey in hand. She offered it to you, which you took with a soft smile.

Her metal fingers trailed down one of your arms, leaving behind goosebumps in its wake. You shivered, but felt her step closer, the warmth of her body welcoming.

"Cold?" She asked against your ear.

Despite the pleasant warmth of her breath along your neck, her husky voice sent another shiver down your spine.

"Yes."

Next thing you knew, she had backed away, only to replace that lost heat with the warmth of her suit jacket draped over your shoulders. Standing by you once again, she wrapped her human arm around your waist and pulled you closer to her side.

You rested your head just below her shoulder and sighed contentedly. Her warmth, scent, embrace, and the lulling sound of her heartbeat filled you to the brim with the most wonderful feelings. Safe, happy, and cared for.

You both stood like that for a while– silently staring off into the endless distance, occasionally taking sips of your shared whiskey. The night sky was so much different than what you two saw beneath the depths of the Undercity. Hues of gold, pink, orange, and even violet painted the horizon. It was truly beautiful. Not that you wouldn't call your home beautiful. Just a different type of beauty. One you had to live with to fully understand and appreciate.

"The sky really is pretty up here," you sighed.

"I've seen prettier."

Brows furrowed in confusion, you peered up at Sevika. Before you could ask where, you knew the answer with the way she looked at you so adoringly.

Your stomach fluttered, cheeks warming. "You're really gonna have to work hard tonight to make up for all this softness," you joked with a shy smile.

She said nothing, simply grinned down at you with that knee-weakening smile and set her glass down on the small table beside her. She pressed her forefinger beneath your chin, tilting your head back.

To your surprise, she didn't immediately go in for a kiss. Instead, she gently swiped the pad off her thumb across your bottom lip, her eyes glittering silver in the remaining sunlight peeking up past the horizon. They danced across your face as if taking in every feature like they were something to treasure.

Your heart swelled, almost painfully so. Then, her silver eyes met yours. Locked them into the most adoring gaze, and you felt as if your chest would burst open. “Sevika, I-” you started softly, nearly choking as your throat constricted with your brimming emotion. You swallowed hard, then tried again. “This was all so wonderful. And- and I don’t mean just this ride on the airship. I mean everything. Everything you’ve ever done for me. Sevika, I-” You paused, another swallow as tears welled in your eyes. You had to get this off your chest. It weighed so heavy, but you just couldn’t quite do it. Held back by what though? Fear? Fear of her not reciprocating? Of her leaving? Or what it could mean if she felt the same?

Sevika almost seemed to not hear you, her head slowly canting to the side and lowering.

You licked your dry lips. One more try. You had to say it now. “Sevika, I lo-” Your words died in your throat as she pressed her lips to yours in a mind-numbingly tender kiss.

Head completely empty of all words, you gave into her kiss and pressed your lips further against hers. Turning fully towards her, you wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, fingers threading through her silky, soft strands.

You didn’t know if that interruption was a sign that perhaps it wasn’t the right time. Or if it was a way for her to say she felt the same without actually saying it. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter. You knew how you felt about her. And you knew she felt something equally strong. It was only words.

And you had all you needed. Your reward.

Her.

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #fanfic #honey writes #ran #arcane ran

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