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thenameswinterfics · 1 month ago

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SCIAMACHY

Fandom: House of the Dragon Pairing: Cregan Stark x DragonDreamer!Reader Settings: Season 2 and post season 2 Summary: As the second child of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn, your father arranged your marriage to the young Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark, in the guise of an arranged marriage that would strengthen the bond between your Houses. But you are haunted by visions of a bloody war shaking the Seven Kingdoms, and the seeds of your doubt are sown when your sister's claim to the throne is challenged. Word Count: 4,4 K Warnings: Angst, mention of death, mention of grief, mention of character(s) death(s), mention of child loss, mention of sibling loss, major spoilers from the book "Fire and Blood" (if you're only following the show please do not read this fic). A/N: I'm back! (sadly for you) This is my very first fic I've written for the HOTD fandom and the very first fic of Cregan. I'm nervous, maybe even more than when I posted my first Sihtric fic, probably because the fandom is vast. It came out different of what I've planned in my head and I lowkey hate the last part, but I hope you still could enjoy it! A special thanks to @foxyanon and @zaldritzosrose for helping me with clearing my outline and for the title, and for her and @legitalicat for the quick beta reading.

Dedicated to my beautiful Cregan wife @sylasthegrim

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Sciamachy: (n), a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadows.

An unfamiliar chill ran down your spine as you walked through the dark corridors of the Red Keep, the place you were born but never called home. The soft crunching of the snow under your boots was the only sound you could hear as you juggled in the darkness, the faintest light in the form of rays filtering through the cracks in the walls and allowing you to see a little.

The sight was vivid, far too vivid, and all you could do was rub your eyes vigorously, hoping that when your vision cleared you would find yourself surrounded by the crackling fire and warmth of your room in Winterfell, the place you were sent against your will but would be forced to call home once you became its new lady.

But no matter how hard you tried to clear your vision: you would still recognise the long, oppressive corridors you had walked as a child, emptied of the countless soldiers of the Kingsguard that guarded it. Each step became an echo of the memories you thought you had buried with time, but which rose to the surface like a breath of fire from the dragon's jaws.

You could still hear the voice of King Viserys, the father who despised you from the moment you took your first breath, guilty of stealing your twin brother's life and living in his name. A father that neglected you for not being born as a man.

You could still hear the voice of your sister Rhaenyra, sweet as honey and warm as a mother's embrace you had never known. You were the little sister she always wanted, the glimpse of freedom amidst her duties to the Crown and the relief from the pain of losing a childhood friend. And it mattered not that you were the quietest of her family, avoiding banquets and receptions in the throne room and sneaking out whenever you could, collecting the brightest bugs and muttering meaningless words, flinching when someone touched your hand: you were still her perfect little sister in her eyes.

And her love was all you wanted right now.

Your bittersweet thoughts were interrupted by a loud roar from outside, the sound so loud it made your head spin and your stomach churn. You quickened your pace, hoping to find a larger crack in the wall to see what was happening outside. And there you found a vision that made you freeze.

You saw two dragons, an older one and a younger one, chasing each other across a stormy sky, their dragon scales glowing under the lightning and thunder as their bodies pursued each other in a majestic yet macabre dance. It seemed an innocent game between them, but the claws and talons of the older dragon prevailed over the younger, and you watched helplessly as he fell to the ground like a comet from the sky, swallowed by the sea.

You walked on, your eyes never leaving the scene outside, wanting to help the little dragon disappear into the water. But the more you crossed the corridor, the heavier the air you breathed became, and roars of pain, of burning lands and clashing swords filled your ears like a cursed chant.

You covered your ears and closed your eyes, stopping your journey towards the throne room. When you opened your eyes again, you saw a room far different from the one you were accustomed to: the vibrant and noisy ambience turned into a ghostly one, the faint rays of moonlight illuminating the Iron Throne. A bloody crown, Jaehaerys' crown, lay abandoned on the throne, rivulets of blood running down to your feet, two dragons lying restlessly behind it. Two children stood before it, their backs to each other, holding each other's hands; you could feel their tortured gaze as they watched the bloody chair, and your heart broke at the sight.

As you approached, trying to touch the crown, soft footsteps made you turn and you heard a wolf howling in the distance.

And then you woke up.

Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honour must pay its price.

These were the words that came out from Cregan Stark's mouth as he escorted Jacaerys to the Wall. They were a testament to how the men of the North were bound by his rigid code of values and honour, and how none of them had ever forgotten or wavered from an oath.

And when the Stark were called upon to renew their allegiance to House Targaryen, nothing would make them waver.

His father Rickon had already done so when he was summoned to King's Landing and bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and a few years later it was Cregan's turn to renew the oath by accepting King Viserys' offer of marriage to the new lord of Winterfell. The young wolf had recently been freed from the regency of his zealous uncle Bennard, and an arranged marriage to a Targaryen princess would strengthen the bond between the two houses since the times of Aegon the Conqueror and Tohrren Stark.

But when he saw the melancholy in your lilac eyes, Cregan realised that politics was nothing more than a sweet lie masking a more sinister purpose: you were no longer welcome at the court of King Viserys, no matter how much your sister begged to keep you under her protection, or how much Alicent Hightower dared to show a glimmer of mercy. You would have been a young dragon raised by a pack of wolves, and as his future wife it would have been his responsibility to look after you.

And now he was called to be sworn to House Targaryen again, on the brink of a civil war that could involve the North in Southern affairs.

“The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oath sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir,” Jacaerys announced solemnly, walking through the narrow corridors of the Walls, Cregan at his side. The Lord of Winterfell was holding Ice over one shoulder, the sword as heavy as the title inherited from his father.

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince,” Cregan retorted, occasionally bowing his head to some members of the Night’s Watch, “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South,” he added, a hint of heavy responsibility in his voice. The threats in winter were much greater than in summer, with the Night's Watch and the men of Winterfell stepping up their activities on the Wall, ready to turn back any outside threats. Furthermore, it was rare to see the intervention of the North in matters concerning the South, but Cregan could not ignore that oaths were broken. And traitors had to pay for it.

“War is coming to the whole realm, my lord,” it was the Prince of Dragonstone’s turn to retort back, “Whilst your men plan to raise guards against wildlings, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. My mother’s claim has been compromised, and little I believe your lady wife could turn her gaze away,”

The words that escaped Jace's mouth left Cregan in a state of astonishment, his brows furrowing and hardening his already stern face. He had never expected the prince to use his wife so cleverly, even though she was a trusted member of his house whom he had sadly never met in peaceful circumstances.

“The Queen has not forgotten the love she has for her sister, and King’s Landing will welcome her again once my mother succeeds in keeping the realm united,”

“My lady wife has her sister's fate very much at heart,” Cregan continued, his gaze softening a bit at the thought of you, “and you arrival put her in a state of worry, my prince,”

The two young men then stood on the Wall, looking out over the untamed land, now covered in white snow. A biting wind whipped around them as Cregan explained how such powerful creatures as the dragons refused to cross the spaces beyond the Wall, highlighting the dangers of the unknown that folded these lands, while he and Jacaerys negotiated the number of men willing to aid Queen Rhaenyra's cause. Cregan himself knew the importance of keeping an oath to a man's moral integrity, and while his duties were tied to the Wall and the threat of the wildlings, he could not ignore the dispute over the king's word.

“My lord,” one of Cregan’s men arrived, forcing the two young men to interrupt their conversation, “Urgent news from Dragonstone,”

The Wolf of Winterfell took the parchment in his hands, and from the brief glance he shared with one of his men, he knew the contents were far from frivolous. He let the paper slip from his hands to read the message, and a sense of astonishment struck him like the chill of the North: his lips curled into a grimace, his eyebrows furled slightly as his grey eyes scanned the words printed on the paper. He could have thought it was an unfortunate joke, but the seal of House Targaryen only confirmed what he had read:

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Cregan lifted his gaze to rest on Jacaerys' brown eyes and watched as the young prince's face contorted in confusion, then grief as he glanced at the parchment in Cregan's hands, and hot tears watered his eyes, streaming down his sharp face until two small rivers crossed their path on his chin. The young lord watched helplessly as the Prince of Dragonstone staggered backwards, clutching his chest in a tight fist as if trying to hold it together; it was a sight familiar to Cregan, for he had also lost his younger brother and remembered the same sense of helplessness creeping through his veins.

But as Jacaerys collapsed in grief, a new weight hit Cregan's chest, a sense of dread blossoming in the centre of his stomach as he steeled himself for what was to come.

He would have to inform you and to bring the news of Lucery’s death. And it wouldn’t be easy.

The bright orange sun hid behind the imposing mountains of the North, its last rays illuminating the tops of the peaks and tinting the snow a soft pink. As the light faded, a few amber rays filtered through the windows of your chambers, illuminating them with a soft glow - the gentle warmth of the sun blending with the heat of the great fire in the centre of the room, accompanied by the soft crackle of the wood.

You sat quietly at the foot of your bed, embroidery hoop in hand, watching your son Rickon play with his wooden toys beside you. A few handmaids moved about your chambers, preparing the large table for the dinner you and Cregan would share that evening. Your lilac eyes rested on the small figure of your son, who returned them with a broad smile. But as you raised a hand and gently rubbed his swollen cheeks, you were seized by a sense of unease.

It had been a long time since you and Cregan had been married, and from the first night you spent in Winterfell your mind had been haunted by dark omens hovering over your family name. Glimpses of what had happened in the past and what would happen in the future passed before your eyes like dancing shadows, sometimes appearing even when you were fully awake. You could still hear cries for help filling your ears, dragons fighting in the sky with claws and breath of fire, and sinister whispers plotting an overthrow of power, the image of your father's bloody crown on the throne still vivid in your mind.

The people of Winterfell had always regarded you with suspicion, for you were far from the Targaryen princess they had always imagined. But Cregan had never dared to question your tastes, however strange they might sound, and whenever the duties of lordship allowed him a moment's respite, he would gladly accompany you to the far reaches of the North and catch whatever bugs you wanted. In winter, when the temperatures were too harsh and the bugs were nowhere to be found, he would wrap his great arms around your form and listen to your strange rhymes as he gazed into the fire.

Your prophetic dreams ceased after you gave birth to Rickon, but they returned when a raven came from Dragonstone with grim news: the death of your father the King, the usurpation of your sister's claim by the Hightowers, and the loss of Rhaenyra's only daughter. Fear settled in your heart as you remembered the figure of the young dragon swallowed by the waves of the ocean, and you wondered if even innocent children would fall victim to this dangerous game of power.

The doors of your chambers swung open and Cregan appeared. The handmaids greeted him with a nod of respect, and you gave him a small smile as you watched Rickon rise and reach his father, who scooped him up with his free hand and kissed his little forehead.

But it was when he looked at you that you realised something was wrong. His eyes, softened by the sight of you, held a pain that seemed to be fighting him. It was as if he were carrying a burden too heavy for him to bear, heavier even than his duties as Lord of Winterfell, and the sight surprised you: you had never seen Cregan so troubled by anything.

"Leave us alone," your husband's voice echoed in the room, once again wearing his mask of severity, "I need to have a few words with my wife in private,”

The handmaids bowed their heads and quickly left the room, one of them holding Rickon in her arms. There was an unspoken tension in the air as Cregan cautiously approached you and sat in front of you. He had always been an attentive and protective husband, showing a side that differed from the stern image he gave his men.

“You seem quite troubled, husband,” you spoke softly, your voice faltering slightly. Cregan replied with a heavy sigh, covering your hands with his larger ones and rubbing them with his calloused thumbs.

“Dreadful news came from Dragonstone, my love,” Cregan said in a hoarse voice, choosing his words carefully, as if talking to a wounded puppy, “Your sister, the Queen, lost a child again,”

You felt the ground beneath your feet, surroundings had become as muffled as your husband's voice as he recited the contents of the parchment:

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Feeling like you were about to pass out, you rolled over onto your side and gripped the wooden footboard in a tight vice. You immediately covered your mouth and looked down at your feet as your mind slowly processed the news, but the shock was so strong that no tears came. Your mind raced back to the dream you'd had weeks before Jacaerys' arrival, seeing pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite understand until now: Lucerys was the dragon that fell from the sky, and Aemond was the other one who sank his jaws into his flesh.

You felt Cregan's worried gaze on you as one of his hands moved to your arm, rubbing it gently in a soothing way. “It pains me to see you so devastated, my sweet wife,” he spoke quietly, breaking the wall of silence between you, “but you must know that House Stark will stand against-“

“I need a moment, please,” your trembling voice interrupted him as you found the strength to stand at your feet, your thick robes swooning with every step you took in the room. You paced back and forth, one hand rubbing the bridge of your nose while the other supported your lower back, grief and confusion mixing in your head as you felt like you were about to succumb to madness: for a moment you wondered if Rickon would fall victim to the Dance as well, but no bad omen was attached to him and that brought you a moment of peace.

Your restless walk ended as you approached the large window of your chambers and saw Vermax flying restlessly outside. It pained you to see such a magnificent creature as a dragon so distraught over the loss of his kin, and it pained you even more when a flash of his fate crossed your eyes as you saw the dragon dancing among hundreds of arrows.

“It is said that dragons can feel their masters’ emotions,” a rough voice came from behind, and you saw Cregan looking outside like you, “They feel their pain, their turmoil, and they share the same grief.”

“He is preparing for his last flight,” you murmured quietly, turning your head slightly and locking your lilac gaze into his grey one. You felt Cregan’s hand resting on your waist, allowing him to pull you closer and join your foreheads together.

"Winter is coming, my love, and I need my men here to defend the Wall," he spoke softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the warmth of your skin against his, "but House Stark will pledge its support to Queen Rhaenyra by sending her thousands of Greybeards to fight in her name. Your sister's claim will be upheld and your nephew will succeed her,"

"Jacaerys will never be King of the Seven Kingdoms," you confessed defeatedly, looking down at your feet, "the only kingdom he will see is of sea and salt. He will never see his mother sitting on the Iron Throne. I have seen it,"

Your words brought a heavy silence to the room and you both withdrew into your thoughts. You saw how quickly Cregan and Jacaerys had bonded, how they spent their days hunting and drinking together while they negotiated the terms of war. Luke's death would not be an accident, and you hoped your words would reach your husband, that he would understand the destructive force dragons could be once they went into battle.

Instead, Cregan's only words were his arms wrapped around you, sealing your body in a protective embrace. He whispered words of comfort, kissed your temple and promised victory over the usurpers.

But deep in his heart, he knew it would not be easy.

Grief and anger were the emotions Cregan felt as he rolled the parchment in his hands, his eyes darting over the words written in pitch-black ink. He cursed himself for not believing the signs of your dreams, for thinking that fear had created them for you. But even this time you were right.

The Battle of the Gullet had been costly for the Blacks, and the death of Jacaerys Velaryon was a low blow the queen would not forgive her usurpers. It was Cregan again who had the task of bringing you the unfortunate news, and his eyes would forever be haunted by the sight of your grief: he saw you holding Rickon as the news of blood and cheese reached Winterfell's ears, and those same dull eyes came back to you as you leaned against the wall at your nephew's death.

Not even the news that King's Landing had fallen into the hands of Rhaenyra and Daemon could ease the paranoia you lived with, but it only served to fuel your dark prophecies. Few letters were exchanged between Cregan and Rhaenyra, with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms constantly asking for her beloved sister and inviting her to return to court and serve if she wished. But Cregan always refused her invitation.

For the truth was that you were safe in the great lands of the North, surrounded by nothing but the love of Cregan and Rickon, far from that viper's nest that was the Red Keep. It took time for you to adjust to the harsh cold of Winterfell and the coldness of its people, but your calm and gentle nature opened a breach in the heart of his hardened lord, and with it, the people began to love you.

The night was cold, and the heat of the fire was not enough to protect them from the blizzard raging outside. Cregan could not sleep, tossing and turning, hoping that the Old Gods would grant him some much needed rest. It was only after tossing and turning on his side for the umpteenth time that he saw you awake too, your platinum curls falling gently to your shoulders and your lilac eyes gazing absently at the small bed where Rickon rested.

The young wolf wrapped his naked arms around your waist and pulled you close, his chest pressed against your back, the layer of your nightgown the only thing separating your bodies. "Sleep seems to have left you too," he said in a harsh voice, his lips brushing against your neck. You closed your eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

"I have no reason to be asleep, dear husband," you replied absently, the softness of your voice melting his heart. Cregan knew that your mind was far from him, and he feared that your prophetic dreams had imprisoned it again. He let out a long sigh before speaking again.

"A raven came from King's Landing in the morrow," he spoke quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Rickon, "your sister will be pleased to welcome you to the capital and give you all the honours of a Targaryen princess,”

He felt a small chuckle escape your mouth and lowered his head, resting his newly bearded chin on your collarbone, "If it is your wish to reach her, I will order some of my men to arrange a safe journey south for you." Cregan went on, his voice faltering at the thought of leaving you alone while Rhaenyra dealt with her opponents. But you were his wife and the light of his eyes, and if you wished to regain your lost time with your sister, he would accept it without objection.

But the slight shake of your head surprised him, "It wouldn't change anything. Rhaenyra would be dead the moment I reached King's Landing, and the gods know what horrors await there.”

Cregan's brow furrowed, and for the first time he seriously considered the words of your prophetic dreams: if the Dragon Queen was indeed about to die, what would happen if he left his wife alone in the grasp of the Greens? A shiver ran down his spine, anger boiling in his chest at the thought of you being taken prisoner by Aegon the Usurper.

"That will probably not happen," the Lord of Winterfell scoffed, tightening his grip as if he secretly feared you would disappear in his arms, "You have nothing to fear, my dear woman. Your sister is Queen now. Once the usurpers and the breakers of the oath have paid for what they have done, there will be a reign of peace and prosperity.

"It will not be her," you murmured, rolling to the other side to face Cregan. You leaned your hand against his cheek as you looked at him with your melancholy eyes, "Rhaenyra is the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but a crown of ashes will adorn her head and a cloak of fire will wrap her body.”

Cregan leaned into your touch, but he could not quite relax at the grim revelation you gave him: he wanted to find comfort in your presence, but your words were as hard as boulders, carrying a heavy weight he wanted to lift from your shoulders.

"I can hardly see it," he murmured, his voice tinged with doubt, "Rhaenyra is a strong woman, gathering as many noble men as she can for her cause. The kingdom will be stable under her leadership."

You shook your head slowly again, your eyes filled with sorrow, "But the Dragonfire is stronger than she is, and what she has built will crumble with her," you paused for a moment before continuing, "A throne of iron swords will give way to a wooden one, and only when the cripple breathes his last will a child step in, wearing Rhaenyra's crown like a burden.”

Cregan closed his eyes and tightened his grip, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face as he slowly digested what you had told him. He had learned over time that your dreams were not mere hallucinations of a daydreaming mind, but a prophecy destined to come true, no matter how hard you tried to alter the course of events. The deaths of Jacaerys and Lucerys were living proof.

“I swear on my honour that I will keep raising my banners for the rightful queen, no matter how gruesome our fates will be,” Cregan retorted, lowering his head more until your foreheads met again, “What will be of us?”

"You are bound by your honour and will fight for Rhaenyra until your last breath, my love," you murmured, absently tracing circles on his cheek with your thumbs, "The wolf will cry in the dragon's nest, and his wolf will be heard in the darkest hour. And only when order is restored will the wolf return to his pack."

Cregan stood in silence, his chest rising slowly as he held his breath, the realisation dawned on him: the intense activity on the Wall and the organisation of the harvest had always prevented him and his men from making a proper march on King's Landing, hoping that the Greybeards he had sent would be enough to fight for Rhaenyra's cause. But your words have confirmed that his men will march on King's Landing, and he hopes to find a less devastated city than the one his wife has described.

“Cregan,” your gentle call awakened him from his thoughts, his head resting on your hands, “promise me you will come back to me and Rickon. Swear it,”

The young wolf stood silent for a moment, his eyes drinking in your beauty: it would be painful to leave you behind, but if your prophecy came true, he would be forced to honour his oath and fight for his queen. And so he took your head in his hands, closing the distance and sealing the promise with a long, bittersweet kiss, tasting of farewell but full of hope.

“I swear it.”

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Cregan Stark Taglist: @sylasthegrim @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

#who would have thought that I would write a HOTD fic...#cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan fic #cregan fanfic #cregan stark fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fic #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

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kujiba · 3 months ago

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【MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU DEAR GRACE】

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

A/n: Heya! This is now a pov of what is happening to other nations across teyvat before and after the arrival of the reader! + Aether and paimon

Nations present: Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma

One / two / three / four / five

MONDSTAT, is where the creator had first landed and spreaded their blessings through the people's hearts and minds, of course. That did not exclude the archon of freedom himself, Barbatos.

Barbatos used to accompany (Name) through their vast journeys, being able to witness how life is formed within his own eyes, (Name) only using the palms of their hands that basked the people with warmth and comfort sending peace throughout the nations. He'd idolize and fanboyed over them for days and days without ever getting tired nor bored of talking, creating poets or songs just to spread their fame and story farther into the world of Teyvat.

Whenever (Name) requested someone to sing a melody for them, Barbatos was always the first to come knocking at their door with his iconic and trusty lyre he always held dear to him.

But now, their god had left and never came back for thousands of years. Barbatos, now taking the name of Venti would sit on a thick branch hanging off a tree and play a soft melody like he used to do countless days ago. He wanted to feel that comforting aura and vibe again while the tip of his fingers strummed the strings of his lyre, he wanted his god to be by his side forever till the sun would stop blazing, but now it likely didn't seem to happen anytime soon.

...

A blonde traveler and fairy came by today.

The Traveler helped resolve the issue with Dvalin and defeated some abyss mages behind the act, but alas. Good things would always come to an end since they left to go to the neighborhood nation, Liyue, ruled by the god of contracts, Morax.

Things come and things go, that was what Venti learned a long time ago from a dear companion of his. Yet, only after a few months of the Travelers departure, something new and unexpected came to his land.

A breathtaking person with the face of divinity along with an strong yet calming aura that seemed to heal any stressa a person had built up for years in a matter of seconds. That was just what Venti needed at the time since he was reminiscing of the past making him feel a bit down.

The winds were different today and Venti knew that, he felt an immense mount of nostalgia just by being at the presence of the stranger that was just a good distance away from him.

It wasn't just him that noticed it but some hilichurls, slimes, and other types of monsters curiosly went towards their direction but not too close that the person would be alarmed by the amount of monsters closing in on them.

But unfortunately his eyes didn't quite catch where the particular person went after that, much to his disappointment.

Just then, a papered letter fluttered down onto his thigh safely. Confusion crammed Venti's head while he tried to make sense of the letter that neatly laid on his thigh

"How weird"

He adjusted his sitting position better to a more comfortable and laid back one and then began carefully flipping open the letter to read it's contents on the paper.

Venti's eyes trailed along the words written on it and a sly smirk appeared on his face, An invitation to inazuma? Why not.

Liyue, had just finished a fight between osial and the people with the help of the adeptus. Of course, the main star being the infamous blonde traveler himself that took a big part in defeating the sea god.

"After all that fighting, Paimon wants to go and eat a whole buffet!" Paimon and Aether walked through the lively streets of Liyue with a relaxed attitude and vibe. Paimon chimed in "After this we'll have to go through Inazuma! But it would be tricky sinc- Traveler?" Paimon looked at Aether in worry, he had always been silent but today he seemed more down than usual.

"Is something wrong? Paimon will try and help!" Paimon reassured Aether to try and make the blonde feel better even for a slight moment.

Aether shaked his head and offered and forced small smile "It's nothing Paimon.. It's just, I still hadn't found any leads on my sister.." Aether grumbled to himself with bitterness occupied inside his mouth, everywhere they went somebody would be requesting help. It wasn't bad to help but for him to help people with such simple tasks who could do it on their own perfectly fine was.... Tiring.

Aether looked over to Paimon who smiled at him brightly, floating around him for a moment "Don't worry! Paimons sure there would be loads of leads to your sister! Teyvat is a pretty big world after all" Paimon placed both of her small hands behind her back and gave him a closed eyed smile. Soothing Aether a bit in the inside.

As Aether thought over his memories over the past months he stopped at a particular one. The conversation that he had with Amber when they were still at mondstadt. (referring to ch.1).

In the past, he would frequently feel someone taking over his body and controlling it, at first he was genuinely scared and terrified but after a while, he got used to it and didn't react when he randomly would wake up in a random area. It didn't cause him any harm since every time he did got his consciousness back all the monsters would be defeated and all would be left was loot for him to collect.

So why did he kinda felt something was missing after all this time? Was it because he didn't get possessed anymore? He must've gone insane then if he missed getting possessed.

But he had to admit.. It felt kinda nice, like someone was watching over him from afar and being his guardian...

Sure it would abruptly just take over his body in such random times that it would also caught him off guard, but sometimes he would wake up sitting down on a rock while there was a beautiful mix of copper and ruby at the sky before him.

Aether had mix feelings about this stuff, but he could confirm one thing inside his head; 'Whatever is out there is helping me out, Thanks.'

"Traveler are you coming or what!" Paimon shouted from a distance making Aether snap out of his monologuing "Be right there."

...

A youthful man with long silky brunette hair tied into a long low ponytail, he wore a brown and amber waistcoat that evened out his figure perfectly paired with slim black trouser, black dress boots and dark gloves. On his hand was a cup of green tea perfectly brewed to the right temperature where you could see little steams floating above the cup of tea.

The previous god of contracts who now took on the name Zhongli to mask his identity and blend along with the mortals residing at the Liyue Harbor. He brought his cup closer to his lips where he then blew off the steam and modestly took a sip, savoring the flavorful tea.

Infront of him was the relatively popular, Iron Tounge Tian who told and portrayed the numerous adventures and stories of the stone god to a crowd of people sitting down on a table.

Zhongli took one sip of his tea... And then another?

His amber eyes looked at the clear sky above, today wasn't that cloudy anymore after the fight with osial, aside from that there was something different and he felt it spread throughout every vein and bone inside his Body.

...

Morax was the complete opposite of himself in the present. In the past him and Barbatos would frequently fight over (Name), stating the other was spending way too much time with them. Their quarrel would mostly end with (Name) karate chopping the back of their necks so hard that they were in a coma for 143 days, both nations suprisingly not turning into a frenzy since (Name) multi tasked like a Chad and kept the people in line over the days Morax and Barbatos was unconscious.

In those days of course (Name) was not alone in keeping the people safe. Xiao, one of Morax's most beloved adeptus would be by (Name)'s side at all times, getting frequently flustered whenever they teased or praised Xiao since he would frequently save (Name) from any dangerous activities.

Morax had tried persuading (Name) into signing a contract of 'companionship' with him for eternity, But (Name) called out on his bullshit and told him what he wrote on the paper was like a marriage contract instead. This led Morax to experience the seven stages of grief, much to his disdain.

To (Name), Morax was an important companion to them, often helping and assisting them in their needs and teaching them ways they didn't knew existed inside the laws of Teyvat. But to Morax, what he felt was deeper and more complexed than what (Name) never thought to think of. Truly, he was a massive simp for (Name) only in the past (still is tbh).

But you should never get too attached to things that won't last forever. Morax's world crumbled before him when he had been informed that (Name) went missing and was never found, yet he refused to believe that. So for the past thousands of years he patiently waited at Liyue Harbor for their arrival, already planning on telling them a dozen of stories when they return back to his embrace.

And even now, as a mortal named Zhongli, he patiently waited at his usual spot where they would chatter for days non-stop, as if the world around them passed by so quickly that they couldn't grasp it in time.

Ah, his tea is running low.

Just as he was about to pour his cup to its fullest a snow white letter gently flew towards his tables direction. Zhongli acted quickly and catched the piece of paper in time out of instinct in his previous days.

Golden amber eyes inspected the words neatly written by pitch dark ink, his brows perking upwards by what was told.

"Huh, a request to meet at Inazuma?"

Zhongli muttered in a low voice, skeptical at first but then had a light bulb appear at the top of his head "Then... You must be there too right?, my dear companion."

Inazuma was a nation which locked away their people's freedom, ruled by the Raiden Shogun and their 'grace'. The people had believed that their 'grace' was the true one, not like the others who had been an Imposter all along. The two rulers had come to an agreement to proceed with the Vision Hunt Decree, where in people who had attained a vision would be immediately stripped away from its blessing.

And today was a special one. Their 'grace' had invited people around the world to join in a ceremonial festival, where people would savor the taste of their nation's meal's and drink to their hearts content, this joyfull festival was all thanks to their benevolent 'grace'.

This bold act was just to spread word throughout the world to further increase their 'grace' fame. Of course, their 'grace' never mentioned it to anyone but to themselves.

And like mice falling into a trap, less than a day Inazuma had been packed with various different individual's as they thought this was just a simple festival hosted out of the sweetness of their 'graces' heart.

And to their luck, a certain blonde traveler with his fairy companion had just arrived on boat. Their 'grace' had made sure to be on the Traveler's good side since they posed as a natural, distinguished tool for them to use.

Everything was going as planned for them.

...

So why did you have to appear infront of their 'grace'. you, who is the only true creator and God of this world stood before them.

Their grace...

No.

The Imposter looked at you dead in the eyes, as if saying 'why are you here?'. This wasn't supposed to happen, but you left them no choice, the Imposter had prepared for this kind of situation anyway.

A god can't exist if they're not breathing anyway.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm doing you a favor."

A woman wore a lilac colored kimono, her face having purple eyes and gradient light blue pupils, her braided hair reaching the same level as her calf which had a lovely shade of dark violet that becomes lighter at the ends. That woman's name is Beelzelbub.

Beelzelbub sat floating in her domain the Plane of Euthymia, created by her own consciousness. Her vessel the Raiden Shogun must be managing perfectly at Inazuma right?

...

Beelzelbub also known as Ei, couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong for a while now. She felt that something similar to a disaster was approaching on her doorstep, and she disliked everything about it.

Her plum eyes gazed at the voided sky above her, memories flooded into her mind one by one, each having a special place buried deep inside of her heart that she had hidden for a while now.

"I wonder if I continue to search through eternity, will I ever meet you again?" her words came out as a soft whisper, a message towards her grace that she deeply cared and valued for. Ei's mind was driven to many questions but all of them meeting a unfortunate dead end.

Ei was sorta like (Name)'s bodyguard hundreds of years ago, her along with Makoto would frequently visit their abode to tell tale's about youkai, the gods residing in inazuma and how Ei effortlessly massacred them all with her signature move, the Musou No Hitotachi.

But their grace didn't push her away or seemed even the slightest bit uncomfortable, yet instead they would encouraged her to share more of her bloodied stories, and that's what she loved about them. If purity was a person, then they must be standing before her right now.

Still, Ei wasn't exactly known as the 'sharing' type. She and Morax would frequently be on the verge of creating a catastrophe in their nation's whenever it came to who would get their grace's favoritism more.

But their target immediately took a huge turn when their eyes landed at Barbatos who was by their grace's side, yet he seemed to get a little way too close to their personal liking.

Their grace being a polite being didn't seem to mind Barbatos clinging onto them 24/7, you know who did mind the anemo archon's actions?

A pissed off geo dragon and a woman preparing to slice him in half using her blade.

Rumors had been reported that Barbatos body was buried but only left his head uncovered near Windrise as punishment for his actions towards their grace. A day after this took place their grace had personally came to save Barbatos and scolded the two archon's which left their expressions full of shame..

not because they were scolded but because they should've just thrown the anemo god into the abyss.

Ei softly smiled at the nostalgia hitting her hard, reminiscing the days were war had never took over and left countless of innocent lives taken. The uneasy feeling flowing through her body never leaving her mind, what could be the reason why she felt like something was wrong outside?

...

A certain someone had entered her territory, this feeling caught her off guard and slightly made her lose balance, it wasn't worry nor unease but a feeling she always felt when their presence was right next to hers.

"You'd arrived so soon? I would've waited more centuries for you."

Her feet touched the ground. It wasn't a doubt that they had finally came, she had secluded herself all this time to meditate and keep her soul away from erosion. But she couldn't help but wonder how would they look like now? It didn't matter either way.

Since she would love you no matter what form their grace took over.

...

【Follow my command】

Screams of terror engulfed the whole area with bystanders backing away from the body which oozed out a metallic crimson liquid, yet red wasnt the only liquid that seeped through their body.

A golden fluid mixed through with the crimson one, producing a beautiful yet horrid scene.

【You are one step away from successfully reincarnating.】

A/n: hehe... Orv.. Hehe

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alcrego · 5 months ago

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Digital walls, but walls

I encourage you to have a seat and read this little 'essay' I wrote back in 2014 if you really want to understand what I'm doing today. I would be really grateful and I'm sure you'll have a much better understanding of my whole work.

Digital walls, but walls

On the way to space and public art | came across the digital walls. They can be "painted" but they also have the function of limiting, of delimiting, of separating...

A change of paradigm has been happening for some years now with the arrival of the internet, which has completely changed some aspects and concepts that have to do with the world of art and more specifically with urban art or public art. From the beginning, this type of art has been carried out in public places with the aim of being observed by anyone on the street and thus making it free, accessible and free from any premise or institution when it is created. (not considering the "warlike coexistence” with the advertising).

The appearance of the Internet has changed it. A vast majority of the art is seen online on a screen, what questions that the street is the natural canvas of this art discipline. While it is for the one who creates the piece, it is almost never for the one who looks at it. Public spaces are no longer just physical, in the same way that the plastic arts are no longer just plastic.

Due to the access to technology and its cheapness, nowadays it is inconceivable to think of art without considering the whole digital sphere, whether as a tool, a method of creation or of dissemination. But at the same time, all these centuries of art history condition the understanding of art, sometimes acting as a burden in terms of understanding what art is.

The dragging of already preconceived ideas and the weight of the genetic inheritance makes us repeat concepts about what art is and was. In the face of such a rapid change of paradigm, it seems that we find it difficult to understand that this whole new digital world is still the world. Both virtual and augmented reality are also reality, but the fact that it is appreciated through a screen sometimes causes it not to be considered as something artistic or even real. Thinking that way we could say that looking at a piece of art on the Internet does not have its complete experience, since we are not seeing it in the place for which it was devised, and neither are we perceiving it in a direct way, but with a screen as an intermediary. But at the same time, I think about all the content that we consume today with these devices - movies, series, photographs, news, and even art, current and classic - and not because of that we think or say that they are unreal.

At this point, where the analog space merges with the digital space, a new artistic expression is born that is entirely digital, where the final piece is born and ends up in the digital realm. Conceived through digital tools and deposited in the public digital space. These pieces of art suggest skipping the step of "existing" first in the ‘real reality’ to reach directly the virtual reality, which is also reality, and once from there, to have an impact on the analog reality.

It would also be curious to reflect on the parallelism between urban art and digital art, since, being in public places, both are susceptible to being stolen, altered or appropriated by other people for different purposes. And also, on the idea of anonymity, always used by urban artists to be able to work in the street without risk of infringement, and now also used in the digital environment. Either by often using copyrighted content that we find on the web (street 2.0) for an artistic purpose or by the "erosion of sharing” in which at some point someone does not credit the work, but it is still shared. In this case there should be a new word to define those people that everybody knows, but nobody knows who they are. “Famonimous" characters or the concept of "famonimity"; people or artists who are known precisely because they are anonymous.

Since the beginnings of urban art, the idea was to use public space to express oneself freely, but we must bear in mind that public space is nothing more than the remainder of the space divided by the private, the "leftovers" after the developers pass, the worthless places left open to the common people by institutions, etc., etc..... With the change of social, technological and artistic paradigm, urban art has been normalized and is now used as a method of decoration of places in poor condition, as a complement to a public road or simply as a means of open artistic expression as it has always been. Because if the initial objective was to make art accessible, direct and open to everyone, that idea has moved to the internet and, in some ways, the radical idea of urban art would no longer have that sense.

Therefore, if we understand urban or public art as a type of art accessible to everyone, free of charge and without any kind of condition, | believe that digital art fulfils this role today, since it inhabits all public places, whether analog or digital. Urban art needs this digital sphere to be able to expand and be visible. Because nowadays most urban art is seen through screens, not in the place where the piece has been created, which makes all these works more accessible to everyone at any time. And so, the ’paradox of the graffiti artist’ is born, the one who expresses his freedom in the walls that imprison him. These walls generate private spaces and what is outside them is considered public space by the mere fact of being spaces where people pass through. But it does not mean that this public space is open to intervention. Every public space is under the supervision of a privative entity, whether it is a municipality, a company or simply, the property of an individual. Public space does not exist, neither in the ‘real reality’, nor in the virtual one. It is always subject to something superior that manages it.

Within this dilemma, augmented reality becomes another alternative to the path of public art. It gives the possibility of creating art in public spaces, only seen on digital devices, and using the ‘real reality’ as the piece’s canvas. Until recently, photography and/or video were methods of capturing reality. Now, with this change of prism, these disciplines moved from being the purpose itself, to becoming raw material for the creation of other new artistic expressions. In this direction, | want to focus on the gif format. This format is strictly digital, so it gives us the option to edit, to add movement to pieces that, before, condemned to live still. We can spread in on the Internet and make it accessible to everyone at any time. When adding augmented reality, the two concepts intertwine, urban/public art and digital art, what gives rise to new artistic expressions that call into question deep rooted concepts such as museum, art and reality.

There are already many centuries researching, testing and creating the same type of art, whether sculpture, painting.... Except for the birth of new "isms" within these disciplines, it gives the impression that they are exhausted. At this point it would be convenient to think about the idea of unique work, copy, forgery, recreation... Thinking about the evolution of art we must consider that all new progress is born of the technological options that occur in each era. Nowadays, the difference is that progress happens every day, very fast, and it seems that it is difficult (or unwilling) to understand this change because of the speed of it. This cultural and genetic heritage blurs our vision and sometimes prevents us from conceiving new artistic expressions as such, since there are no previous references to support them.

But, at the end of the day, every new artistic expression, in its beginnings, was not art. "Science develops ideas that come from art that is inspired by science.” The world of classical art enjoys an aura of untouchable deity because when we are born it has always been there, but we cannot forget to think for a moment with perspective that all this classical art was created mainly by the entities of power of each era: kings, church, political powers...

This is why today (without underestimating the technique and the work of the artists) these types of classical art enjoy an invulnerability as, in the end, it was created by and for the power itself.

Then, this type of art collides with the urban and/or public art, along with digital art. In the public and digital space those who decide what is "art" are the people.

I am sure that the first Cro-Magnon who used a tuft of horse hairs instead of his own hands to paint was seen as an art/magic/belief apath.

Now we live in a new paradigm shift, but in this case it is not local or national, it is global and immediate.

A. L. Crego, 2014.

#public space #digital art #online #decentralization #alcrego #text #essay

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zomb-core · 3 months ago

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۫ ꣑ৎ NOT MY FATHER || carl grimes x female walsh!reader

summary: carl and you had been inseparable before the apocalypse but that quickly changed the night your father lost it.

(intended lowercase)

warnings: carl is sort of a dick at first, mentions of attempted murder.

friends to enemies to lovers

everyone longed for the life they were forced to leave behind when the apocalypse started, some loathed it, it depended on the situation. you, however, were in the vast majority of people who missed it, who wanted back what they once had, who they once had.

it had been several years since the outbreak started and you had come to terms with the fact that this was just how things were now. your life before the apocalypse was simple, you lived with your father, shane, he was an amazing dad despite the hours he worked. when your father was at work you would either be at school or staying at lori's, lori had agreed to watch over you along with her son, carl. carl was your best friend, you did everything together; read comics, play video games, watch tv — whatever kept the two of you entertained.

at least, that's how it had been.

ever since shane had tried to kill rick in a sick attempt to regain lori's heart carl had shown a strong distaste for you. it made you angry. you wondered how the boy you'd grown up with could hate you over your father's actions, you weren't the one who executed them so why?

when it had happened you assumed carl's coldness would eventually wear off, but it never did, it had been years and he still expressed the same disdain for you. you could tell he wished you were someone else, wished you weren't the spawn of such evil, but it just wasn't possible.

rick never treated you any differently, he knew it wasn't your fault, so why didn't carl?

you learned to stop questioning him so much or trying to make amends, it didn't make any difference so you quit wasting your time. that seemed to anger him more, you didn't understand why considering it was his request to you.

you thought being in alexandria would help lessen the tension between you two or at least make it more avoidable, but it was to no avail, he seemed to seek you out just to spare you a scoff or scowl. you hated it, if he wanted to scorn your being then so be it, but couldn't he refrain from making it so obvious?

eventually, rick had tore him a new one after he had crossed a line and he began to leave you alone.

that was until it was deemed smart to send the two of you on a run together. alone.

it had started off fine, silent but fine. normally, silence in a situation like yours would be unbearable, but the possibility of what could be said if either of you spoke was much more unpleasant, and you were certain you were right when he did speak.

you were crouched down, shoveling supplies into a duffle bag while he was standing guard in case any walkers tried to sneak up on you two when he decided to speak, “do you even care about what he did?”

you felt yourself flinch in shock, not expecting him to speak, your lips pressing into a thin line when you processed his question.

“of course I do.”

“then why don't you act like it?”

you couldn't resist the scoff that urged to escape your lips at the accusation, your fingers tightening around the bag they held. “how am I supposed to act? I have apologized a hundred times, cried, tried to make amends— it's never gonna be enough, is it?”

“he tried to kill my father—”

“yeah, carl, he did. shane did. shane tried to kill your father, not me, when are you gonna get that?” you spat, zipping the duffel bag and throwing it over your shoulder. you could hear his hesitation to speak again and used it to your advantage, allowing yourself to quickly exit the store and make it back to the car before he did.

sometimes you couldn't believe the audacity the boy had, did you care? of course you cared, was he out of his mind?

the shuffling of feet dragged you out of your thoughts, you could see carl making his way in the direction of the car and decided it would be a good time to throw the supplies in the back — there wasn't much in the store to loot but it was better than some of your other runs. you closed the door of the car and made your way around to the passenger side, climbing in.

the ride back was just as silent as the ride there, minus the tapping of carl's fingers on the wheel. you could tell he was thinking about something, you were sure that it was related to the conversation you two had just moments ago. you hoped that maybe he finally realized you weren't to blame for the actions of your father, but then again, the chance of that was very slim; you had been trying to convince him for years, one petty argument wasn't gonna change anything.

you didn't waste any time returning to your house the second you arrived back, too overwhelmed with fury to care about much else. you trudged up your stairs and threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in the mattress, allowing yourself to find refuge in the soft material. tears found their way from your eyes into the cloth, absorbing it along with all your sorrows — you weren't one for self pity but you desperately wanted answers, wanted forgiveness for crimes you hadn't committed, and most importantly you wanted your best friend back. was there really nothing that could be done to mend what your father had broken? you didn't want to blame him but you did, you resented him for what he did and what he caused. everyday for the past 3 years you sat and pondered in a puddle of ‘what if’s — what if your dad hadn't lost it? what if he was successful? what if carl never blamed you? still, nothing changed the present, you were still left without carl by your side.

you hear a sigh in your doorway, jolting up to see maggie standing there with crossed arms,

“I told them it wasn't a good idea to send you guys together.”

you couldn't help but laugh as she approached you, taking a seat next to you.

“you're probably the only smart one out of them.”

“what happened?”

maggie and you were never really close, because, frankly, you weren't close with anyone anymore, but she seemed to care and notice things and you appreciated that; you trusted her. “he thinks it's my fault, he doesn't say it but I can tell. he thinks I don't care— it's like he's convinced I'm heartless.”

“with the way you sit in here crying about it, I doubt you're heartless, he just needs someone to be angry at.”

you nodding, a soft sight leaving your lips, “yeah, I just wish it wasn't me.”

a slight frown was all she gave in response, resting her hand on your shoulder for a moment in a brief attempt of comfort before getting up to exit your room. you listened to her footsteps become distant as she descended down the stairs, throwing yourself back against the mattress once she was no longer within earshot.

you guessed she was right, maybe he did just need someone to be mad at and you just happened to be the perfect candidate, how unlucky.

you had no desire to leave your room after the events of today and opted for a nap to cure your exhaustion and hopefully your desolation.

you didn't bother changing into night clothes and instead focused on untying your combat boots, you tossed them to the side and crawled under the comforter, relishing in the comforting feeling. it didn't take long for you to become a victim to sleep, quickly drifting off and being met with a blank mind.

sleep was the ultimate painkiller, that was something you stood by, but with the apocalypse it was just about as hard to come by as ibuprofen. when you did get the privilege of sleeping you took it as a delicacy, you used it to let your mind stray away from carl and instead become blank or filled with dreams. nightmares were rare for you, but the select few times you did have them were nothing major so you never worried about it like others did, which you suppose made you lucky.

you were awakened by the sound of knocking on your window.

you weren't sure what time it was but you were certain it was late. your hand immediately found its way to the knife you had on your nightstand, you kept a tight grip on it as you approached your window as quietly as you could. you pulled the curtains aside to get a view of who caused the noise, you felt your body go rigid at the sight, the knife in your hand falling to the floor and clattering on the hardwood.

carl grimes. carl grimes sat crouched in front of your window.

once you came down from your shock enough to move, you opened the window, moving aside so he could climb in. he landed on your floor with a soft thud, immediately standing to his full height and stretching, his gaze lingering on you as he did so.

“why are you here?” the words came out soft and unthreatening unlike you had intended, your voice wavering slightly. he moved away from you take a seat on your bed, waiting for you to take the spot next to him,

“I wanna talk.”

you got the hint and sat down next to him, staring at your lap, avoiding making eye contact with him. “okay.”

“you were right— today when we were out, you were right. you didn't do anything, shane did. I was just angry, I wanted to be mad at shane, to take it out on him, but he's gone so I took it out on you, his daughter. when it happened it all felt the same and I never let it go, I never even allowed myself to think about it. I saw you and saw shane and that's all it took I guess.”

“I'm not my father, carl.” your broken voice confirmed, the tears from earlier resurfacing and streaming down your cheeks. you've waited years for this conversation and when you finally get the opportunity to have it every last emotion managed to find its way to the surface.

“I know, I see that now. I'm sorry.”

“why wouldn't you just talk to me? I could've told you that a while ago, I shouldn't have had to wait 3 years for you to finally come to your senses and realize that my father is the one who went crazy, not me. I shouldn't have had to mourn a friendship that could've been so much more if you would've just noticed that.” your tear filled eyes rose to look at him, your stare asking him every question you've asked yourself over the years, showing him all the confusion, the anger, the sadness.

“I couldn't. I just couldn't.”

“that's not enough, carl! I want answers, I deserve answers!”

“because I was in love with you! I was in love with you and I couldn't be in love with you then!”

you froze, your eyes widening in shock, “…what?”

“I was in love with you and I knew you were in love with me too, I couldn't handle it. I was mad at you for something you didn't even do and I couldn't bear being around you knowing all I could see was him and what he did while I still loved you.”

you sobbed. you couldn't do more than that. he was right, you had been in love with him and you still were, he knew why you were so upset — he knew that your longing was for more than friendship. what had happened wasn't fair, not just to you, but to him too; you finally understood why he acted the way he did and now you couldn't bring yourself to be angry with him, all you could feel was despair. you felt him wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer to him and you couldn't help but lean into him while continuing to cry.

“I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner.”

a/n: I made this a long time ago and scrapped it, but the story I'm working on right now is not coming together as I had hoped and I feel bad about the lack of uploads so I hope you enjoy this and I'm sorry I haven't been posting!!

masterlist

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the-moon-files · 1 month ago

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so... my interpretation of guide!reader may be vastly different from others but with my vast assimilation of yours and others content, this is my variation of the one I like envisioning involving concepts such as yours (Humans are NOT Hylians and Guide!Reader) so this is my official start to the ramblings *DEEP INHALE*

when I read the post about reader losing their sord and just punching the monsters and it is working along with the other links being amazed

I imagine that because of the fact that hylian's are so light that they didn't put that much into the growth of physical arts

they can punch and kick fine but that's more so used for scraps agents one another, rather than in fights against monsters

hylian's don't have enough strength or weight to have it be worth it on the battlefield

its much more worth their time and energy to learn things like swordsmanship or artery, and be nimble

but guide dose have: the muscle, weight, durability and training necessary for such a strategy to be worth it

It would be more effective for the reader to use the Muay Thai and Taekwondo they worked so hard on instead of learning something new

_*looking respectfully

I can imagine that this levees them beater of physically than most (*cough* me *cough*)

leveeing them much more prepared

along with giving them a lot more... muscle...

Link's(-wind):... please crush me between your thighs

Guide!Reader: what?

Link's(-wind): what.

I know that it has been said that reader is shorter than time, but I personally like them slightly bigger than time

you know... forehead kissing rang

so it's only slightly less awkward to pick them up

I think their deep honey like voice could be compared to their slightly dark honey-colored eyes

someone like legend would appreciate how their eyes turn golden in the sun light, shining like no ring on his finger

Hyrule loves how they feel different from the cold sweetness of sugar water, instead they feel like rich honey and warm cinnamene

wild remembers them as there very first true companion and comfort

to wars, an immovable force, never leveeing their side

that's all I have fore now, but be warned...

I'll be back!

and I'm putting them in a dress (:<

AHH SORRY FOR LATE REPLY U HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IVE BEEN HOGGING THIS TO MYSELF

Martial arts reader/Mc my beloved <333

U sent in ART TOO??!!!! 😭🙏

i love stuff like this sm ur style is so 😳💌💘💝💖💓💞💕❤️‍🔥🙈

The bit abt hylians not needing as much/making intricate martial arts/making their body be the weapon is so peak worldbuilding, if i had an official stamp to say smth is canon in my little HaNH AU (Humans are Not Hylians) i would stamp this 10x over

Acc u know what one sec

Since u made art, have some shitty meme art in return

LMAO its shitty but i hope u know it is the biggest support i can give you, like GOD the ART i keep coming back and Also. Looking Respectfully.

And this is the biggest thank you i could give for sharing this w/me!!

Ok spam headcanons?? Sorta

CONTENT WARNINGS: MILDLY SUGGESTIVE? CONTENT, 16+/18+ MATURER AUDIENCES RECOMMENDED.

COULD YOU IMAGINEEEEE

How the Hylians view Wrestling.

Like, your knuckles/elbows/knees (the parts where thers not as much fat to protect) start to bleed punching armored monsters/arms get tired and you just-

Wrap ur legs around a lynels neck and spin around their neck, using your body weight to drag and lay that bitch Out.

(This is a Real Martial Arts move Ive fucking seen a gif of hold on i NEED to find it- FUCK i cant find it but try youtube and see if yall can find it, its So Real i promise, it was on tumblr at one point)

Who's swooning? Not all 8 Links, nope-

Links, externally (+Wind genuinely): Hahaha, u can crush a watermelow open between ur thighs?? Omg thats so cool- !! 😃

Links, internally (-wind): omfTRIPLEGODDESSES- DID U SEE THAT?? IT WASNT JUST ME RIGHT??? SO WE ALL LOWKEY WANNA,, RIGHT??? 🙊😶🙈😳😳😳(Making eye contact w/each other and communicating this silently, everyone going super red/turning away/ears twitching)

Wind makes you do like another 4 watermelons bc its genuinely so impressive to him (does he think its hilarious to watch the others get all embarassed? Hell yeah- what else are little brothers supposed to do??)

Okay but OG asker/Snack Eater DID NOT emphasize how insane a Muay Thai fighter in HaNH AU would go???

If u dont know, Muay Thai is DEADLY-DEADLY kinda martial arts, like it has been considered assault with a deadly weapon before i think/been banned a lot of other fighting places outside its country of origin? I think its Thailand?

Anyway Thailand is fucking crazy for not having a higher rate of murders acredited to this martial art, bc guys, they use Elbows and Knees in their moves.

Like. That's banned/outright no moves created/or at least taught, a lot of the time in other martial arts from diff places.

Like that kills people. So easily. 😃

Like, the Chain already knows ur deadly, but when u reveal (having done the Honorable/Give Them A Fair Chance Thing) and not used Elbows or Knees yet, only to get into the harder enemies like boss fights and suddenly get real close (!!! What are you doing Guide Back Up-!!)

And whip out an elbow, crack the motherfucker straight in the head, and watch the thing immediately flatline right before their eyes??

Its like seeing a biblically accurate angel descend.

Like their in awe, but also scared? But its also like feeding into the awe?? Jaws have dropped.

U tell them that Elbows and Knees are even banned back home, and every single Link is like "Understandable. Obviously. But also, oh my goddess?? A move even the Humans banned?? Bc its so deadly???"

Wind: "..."

Wind: "...hey. Can you kill Gods? ...Can you kill Ganon?"

(The entire Chain goes silent in shock before exploding into Exsistential Crisis Mode, it takes Time/Wars like 5 minutes to recover from this information/experience enough to get up and calm everyone down lmao)

ALSO???

On a completely diff note-

Shorted Links, Taller Guide Reader my beloved?? <<<3333

Oh i def been leaning towards some Links are taller bc i think the imagery of you picking them up easily is funny (what can i say I live to embarass/try and fluster Time/Twi)

But you being taller?? Sign me tf up babe I have NOTHING against that, and am ALL for it????

Like u go thru a triangle portal/wake up from playing Loz and the Links are all shorter than you?? blessings rain down upon us like????

Twi/Time/Wars (who i headcanon as the tallest Links, in that order, along with Sky when he stops slouching lol)

And for Twilight to just be forehead kissing height?!

(He might've realized he's got a thing for lowkey feeling like worshipping ppl taller than him, bc other than the few humans who did live in Ordon, he was the tallest Hylian)

Time adores looking up at you, like u swear you saw his ears flapping a little

Wars is just,, 😀😳👉👈🥺 h-hey

Like flirting is infinitely harder when theyre a head taller than you, the poor Captain has found

(Yknow bc im personally 5"3, or abt 160cm, i think itd be even funnier if no matter what height you are, ur still taller than the tallest Hylians LMAO, Four our here actually being 3-4 ft tall like hobbits lol)

Omg (i know, i PROMISE, i KNOW) that its not canon at all, but i think itd be funny if the hylians most common hair color was blonde/most common eyecolor was blue/green,

And its rarer for ppl to have brown eyes/dark hair

Like the opposite of a lot of American beauty standards, ur seen at the Y/N, the main character for having darker features

(Lowkey inlcuding skin tone bc, and this is canon, have u seen the skin tone diversity historically for Loz games lmao 😅)

Ok im done sorry for rambling

Thanks again for this!!

___ TW: Hurricane Helene talk below ____

Fair Warning: I WILL NOT be tolerating any condescending/hateful or otherwise negative responses about the effects of Hurricane Helene.

People have died. Myself/my friends/my family/my coworkers have been affected. Be respectful.

You will be blocked/possibly reported for hate speech.

This was like Hurricane Katrina for us, because these areas were NOT prepared for hurricanes.

Those most affected are Mountain communities, we're supposed to have more mild weather, and the last time this happened according to older locals was decades ago, if then.

...

Hey!! If u read my tags of my last reblog, im doing better, we got back to town and realized our powers back on, and then the next day luckily our water was back on too

(its not drinkable but at least we can flush the toliet/shower 😭)

Luckily too by this point the water distribution/rescue crews are here,

DUDE. We were/are so fucked Biden came to look at us 😃

Im personally still on the lookout for missing ppl (my coworker has missing family in the town nearby and in telling my friend over there to spread the word)

And cellular service is back up, but they may jut be bc they brought in temporary towers/Tmobile is giving out free service for everyone too

Its slow going still, all these developments are taking days to achieve if u cant tell

And no pressure, esp if u dont have the spare money,

But if you could donate to help my city/the cities nearby who are still very isolated bc theyre smaller, along with helping our homeless people who no doubt are worse off, thatd mean to world to me/all of us!! <3

Here's some links for that, even if its just tip money/money for a coffee, anything helps!

https://pay.payitgov.com/ncdonations

https://crowdfund.charlotte.edu/project/44126

https://www.chabadasheville.org/templates/section_cdo/aid/6606696/jewish/Hurricane-Helene-Relief.htm

Thanks for reading, and blessed be those still in need of rescue, from human to animals, and to those who have passed.

May those you left behind find peace.

Peact out,

🌙

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 6 months ago

Text

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 16

Cold Compress | Loki x Reader

After fleeing the court of The Golden Palace, Loki follows and reveals a secret of his own in an effort to console you. But his new form is more than just comforting...

Warning: 18+. sexual content and language. I mean it. Jotun Lokiincluding - size difference, oral sex (m & f receiving) frottage, fingering/large insertion. Hyperspermia. Capital S for SMUT

A/N: I used What If...Loki and thought about an average size woman to compare. This really is just self-indulgent smut so can be read standalone if you're not following the series.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

The wrath that had sent your fire reeling banked at the cool touch of Loki’s hands around your waist. In one moment you were a raging inferno, destroying every artefact, every decoration and drape in your path, sending other gods fleeing back into side rooms and up onto the balconies. The next you were cradled so softly in his arms, his touch pushing back your anger like a cool breeze on a summer day.

The burnt cinders of the corridor were gone and you found yourself alone in a similarly vast marble throne room, sealed from floor to ceiling in onyx black marble, seams of gold tracing through the wide blocks into an endless ceiling, twinkling with candlelight.

Loki held you to his chest, petting the back of your head and down your arms, quenching the fire under his touch and, when you finally looked at him, he still held that pale blue hue that had appeared when he created a sedir shield against your explosive anger.

“Asynja,” Loki breathed your name like a prayer, cupping your cheek and drawing you closer.

“Loki,” you sobbed, collapsing back into his chest and allowing your tears to fall freely, “I don’t want to join any of their families.” You finally let the tears flow, now that your anger was subsiding, and your fear rose swiftly to the surface.

“No one can make you go with them, my darling,” Loki soothed, but you still hiccuped around another sob. “I promise, as long as I am beside you, my darling Asynja, no one shall take you from me. Do you understand?” He pulled back to look down at you, his eyes brimming with a potent mixture of anger and possessiveness.

“I understand,” you took a deep breath, but the flames that had surrounded you continued to dance around your feet and temples. “It’s just - it’s an awful lot to deal with so suddenly.”

“I know, I too have experienced a revelation about my parentage, and the powers that come with it.” He kept his eyes steady with yours but you could tell from the twitch in his jaw that he was holding his emotions back.

Confused you allowed your gaze to rove over him for the first time, he didn’t appear to be hurt by the flames but he still looked different somehow.

“You’re blue.”

“Yes,” Loki laughed a little, “I am blue. I thought it might help you to see that you are not alone in discovering new things about yourself and that you are also not alone in being frightened. Although this is only part of my other body.” He admitted.

You took Loki’s hand, colder than usual, and led him into the centre of the ballroom before tugging him to sit on the floor beside you. “What are you frightened of?” Your dress pooled around you, shimmering slightly, and Loki carefully arranged your skirts so that he could press as close to you as possible.

“I imagine the same as you, what I will become, should I let the truth of my nature show.”

“And what is your true nature?” You took his hand and traced the darker blue lines that had appeared along the back, dipping between his fingers.

“Odin was not my father, my father was Laufey, of Jotenheim, King of the Frost Giants. That is why I am Loki Laufeyson. Father, Odin, used to say that both Thor and I were born to sit upon the throne. It was only recently I learnt that he meant separate thrones and not a joint ruling of the kingdom as I’d believed. I had imaged that we would share responsibilities, divided by our personal skills in both warring and intrigue. But father had other plans. My brother, of Asgard, would rule over the people that we love, the home that I knew. Yet I, the son stolen from his homeland, was destined for a throne in a room I did not remember, a people I did not know, a land I have visited but once.” He choked on his words, fighting the emotion he’d tamped down for so long.

“Oh, Loki, I’m so sorry. He should never have kept that from you, or teased you and Thor like that.” You squeezed his hands tighter and Loki turned to give you a sad smile.

“Fear not, darling, I do not wish for a throne, it is no great disappointment to me that it belongs to another.”

“What are you afraid of then?”

“My form, this is a body, a form, that I was given as a child by my mother. Frost Giants are unlike Asgardians, I fear that my Jotun form would be a terrifying prospect for all around me, there is precious little regard for me as it is, I should hate to ruin my reputation further.” Loki smiled again, patting your hand. “We should leave, we can return to Tonsberg as planned, we’ll be safe there and we can put this whole sorry mess to rest. We have no need to fear prophecies, we can write our own futures.” Loki seemed so sure, confident that he could walk away from this threat as he had so many others that you almost believed him.

Perhaps you could, but you would have no secrets between you if you did.

You allowed him to rise, but tugged him back when he offered you his hand, “show me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Show me, let it go, be a Jotun, show me.” You repeated, raising your eyebrows and watching him expectantly. “I already saw your skin go sort of blue, what else happens?”

Loki looked almost bashful, “really, darling, I have no concept of what might happen. Frost Giants can be ten feet tall, I would not wish to risk any harm coming to you.”

“Loki, please, look at the size of this room,” you both looked up at the ceiling, though it was so high you could barely see it, shrouded as it was in the darkness of the marble.

“If you insist,” he conceded, “but only for you, my darling.”

Loki stepped further from you, and as he did he began to change subtly. When Loki used his sedir the change could be tracked by the journey of the magic over his body, but this was different. He grew taller and as you watched you missed his hair lengthening, growing down his back. His skin, an icey blue, was marked with more and more intricate designs and his eyes became red. His growth slowed and you stared up at him. Naked and in his full glory for the first time.

Loki must have been at least ten feet tall, if not more, though the ballroom ceiling was still far away he could reach up and touch the cascading chandeliers, he was certainly towering over you, sprawled as you were on the floor, attempting to take in his full height.

“Wow.” You continued to stare, your hand reaching out for him.

“Is wow a positive expression?” Loki asked, his voice still the same, though louder now. The sound vibrated through you and you clenched your legs together.

“Uh - definitely a good thing.” Loki was always beautiful, but this form, so tall and broad, muscular and strong, so purely alien. He was truly a god and you felt small before him. “I bet you could pick me up with one hand.” You said, touching his calf absently.

Loki laughed in response and you felt hot, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it had taken you by surprise how attractive you found this form.

“Probably,” he quirked an eyebrow. “Shall we find out what else we could do?”

Loki bent down on her haunches and extended a hand towards you. His hands were still decorated with whirls of darker blue, and you traced them with your own fingers. With a grin he scooped you up, knocking you backwards so that you landed in his open palms.

Shocked, you gazed up at him open mouthed and his smile didn’t fade, instead it morphed into the teasing grin that knew you were in for both pleasure and mischief.

In this form you looked different too, although Loki was always taller he had certainly never viewed you like this. So small and vulnerable in his hand. He clenched his fingers gently, folding his thumb over your waist and circling your back with his fingers. You curled your arms around his thumb, hanging on tightly.

When he stood you shook, each of your movements amplified in his palm, as if he was back catching creatures in the forests of his youth, a nymph of his own to play with. He clenched his jaw against the thought - a plaything. His own goddess to play with.

“You look so - delicate.” He cooed, keeping his voice lower now you were closer to him.

“You look enormous.” You choked out, heat spreading over your chest and neck despite the chill of his touch. “Please, Loki, distract me from all this?” You asked, he had been right, this was exactly what you needed to feel less alone, less strange in this alien world. But now you needed more of him, you’d never get enough of anything that Loki could offer you, you’d take every facet of him, every version.

“What do you require of me, my tiny darling.” Loki lifted you higher, holding you to his cheek, your legs dangled in the air but your arms reached forward, touching his cold skin.

You leant towards him, pressing your lips against the expanse of smooth skin that covered his still sharp cheekbones, and pressed tickling kisses there, “make me forget, Loki. Please?”

“How could I deny such a polite request.” He cupped his other hand around you and, in a warm shimmer of magic, you felt your clothes vanish from your body. Still surrounded by his fingers your skin tingled, erupting in goosebumps at the press of his cold palm.

Loki lifted you back towards his face and pursed his lips, blowing warm air into his cupped hands and you giggled. You’d been expecting him to launch into some debauched idea of his, knowing that at least ten crackled around his thoughts at all times, but his playfulness caught you off guard as it always did.

“Loki!” You squirmed in his grasp and he held you all the tighter for it, bringing you back to his lips. This time he opened his hands and held you still, his second thumb covering your arms over your head so you couldn’t move, and then kissed the soft swell of your stomach. His lips were as cold as the rest of him, but as gentle as ever.

You giggled again, heat skittering over your skin and then shooting between your legs. His thumb swiped over your body and he kissed you again and again, turning you this way and that to find a spot on your side, on your hip, that he hadn’t yet worshipped.

“My darling,” he sighed, tipping his hand back so that you fell into his palm again, sprawled before him, “what a delicious little morsel you are.” His smile was vulpine and the only warning you got before he licked you, his tongue dipping between your spread legs and swiping up towards your breasts. You squealed in surprise, trying to close your legs but his fingers tangled over them, holding you open and he licked and licked, pausing only to blow gusts of cold air over the heat of your flesh.

“I could eat you forever and never be satiated.” Loki fit his tongue between your legs, teasing the tip against your entrance until you felt him stretch you gently. He angled his tongue upwards, humming softly and you swore you saw all the stars exploding as the vibrations thrummed through your bones. Loki continued, tilting his face forwards so that he nose pressed on your lower stomach, his tongue still angling upwards and your body sang for him, taut and ready.

“You’re devine,” he cooed, the rush of his words like a breeze, cooling your slick as it ran down your sticky thighs.

“Please, Loki, I can’t - I need - I want to cum - I’m going to - agh!”

Like a sacrificial offering he kept you pinned open until you were begging, pleading for more, the ever tightening coil of your arousal turned and turned in your stomach until you could take no more, gushing onto his tongue with a scream of pained pleasure. The sensations were overwhelming, heat and cold and pressure and pleasure and ecstasy all rolled into one.

Loki gave you a few seconds to recover before he lay you onto the table, sprawled before him.

“You are truly a feast, Asynja. Look at you, covered in us both and still smiling.” He kissed your cheek the best he could, swiping his thumb over your belly and thighs, rubbing in his kisses.

Your chest heaved, sweat cooling between your breasts and you longed for his touch again, even if it was icy, anything but this loneliness now that he had put you down.

“Loki -” you gasped, reaching for him and finding one of his large hands, your hand barely fit around his finger but his touch was soothing and pleasant on your heated skin.

He brushed his thumb over your breasts, around your nipples, down, down until he could lift your leg and cup you again, his thumb covering your folds and applying pressure to your aching clit. Your body no longer belonged to you, given over to the pleasure that touch created, your hips lifted, rolling into the pad of his thumb and he let you, a satisfied smile on his face as your pace increased, riding his hand. With an obscene moan you arched from the table and into his awaiting touch.

“You’re not satisfied, darling?” He smirked as you looked at him with heavily lidded eyes, “I promise I’m going nowhere until you are completely sated,” he bent over the table, looming over you and filling your senses, “we shall only leave when you are panting, crying for me to stop.” Loki kissed the side of your face, close enough that you could twine your hands in his hair in an effort to keep him there, so close you thought you could breathe him in. Despite all of the changes to his body, his hair felt the same, soft and silky and smelt like the expensive shampoo he insisted on using. It blended with his usual deep amber scent and something else, perhaps something Jotun, that reminded you of snowy days and icey nights.

“God - Loki - I - fuck me, please.”

You both looked down at the sizable erection tenting his magically enlarged trousers, his words rumbled through you, his lips still at your cheek, “I do not wish to break you, my Asynja, perhaps something else may sate your lusts.” His cock bobbed under his trousers, twitching in time with his words, and you knew without looking in his eyes that he was using every ounce of his self control not to at least try and push himself deep inside of you.

Suddenly his thumb was gone and you gave a low whine at the loss, dropping a hand between your legs to try and continue the glorious cresting of your impending orgasm, but Loki moved your hand away.

“Patience, darling,” he chided, still cupping the backs of your legs, tugging you to the edge of the long table. Instead of his thumb he stroked his pinky finger down your stomach, one hand keeping you still, the other drawing teasing circles over your belly button, lower and lower with each circle.

Even his smallest finger felt enormous, Loki in his usual size was enough of a stretch and heat flooded through you at the thought of trying to take even his finger.

“Lo’,” you were incoherent now, thrashing on the table with every movement, but he pressed on, the pad of his finger at your entrance, spreading your arousal over your clit and pushing slowly, intently, until you felt yourself stretch around him.

“Norns, Asynja, you are the most delicious woman in the nine kingdoms, in every realm, every universe, every time,” he cooed, pressing further until you keened, your hands rushing back between your legs as if to both stop and continue the onslaught of pleasure.

You had never been so full in your life, so full and so loved, held as you were between Loki’s gigantic hands, his lips kissing away the sweat on your brow, sparkling like diamonds in the low light.

“Loki, I - I -” your fingers struggled to find purchase in his hair - on his hands, slipping over his arousal soaked skin and you were dimly aware that that was the feel of you, hot and slick between you, dripping onto the table, before your orgasm hit you at full force, just from the stretch alone.

“Good girl, Asynja,” Loki growled, moving only slightly as your walls clenched around him, he could feel very flutter and movement on his sensitive fingertips and then you gushed, squirting over his finger and soaking the his chin where he perched between your legs.

Loki’s red eyes went darker, a blood red full of his widened pupil and drinking in every inch of your sweating, heaving body, your velvet skirts pushed up around your waist and bare legs shining with your arousal.

“Fuck, Loki - that was -” you dropped your head back onto the table with a thunk, staring glassy eyed at the lights twinkling above.

“It’s my pleasure, my darling.” He drawled, grin feral, tongue poking out between blue teeth. The first lap was soothing on your heated skin, sending goosebumps up and down your legs.

You peered up, tucking your head into your chest to view the god between your legs, still worshipping you, still thinking only of you. It was overwhelming, his devotion, and you wanted - needed, to make him feel the same.

Carefully you eased yourself to the edge of the table, level with his smiling face, and then you let your feet drop to the floor, a hand on his bare chest, pushing him backwards until he lay on the marble floor. Loki was the only other colour in the room, a bright star in the darkness. The bulge of his trousers was pressing against the zipper and you carefully settled on his hip, pushing your hands against the fabric.

It was Loki’s turn to groan now, the sound a deep rumble that travelled down his body and back between your legs. A fresh wave of arousal made itself known, but you tamped down your feelings. It was Loki’s turn now.

He helped you to tug the zipper down, freeing his impossibly large cock from its prison.

“Fuck.” The word was out before you could stop it and you left your mouth hanging open while you took in his full glory. In his Asgardian form Loki was already generously endowed. But as Jotun - you placed your hand against the firm length and marvelled at how delicate his skin still felt, albeit colder than normal. His cock twitched beneath your palm and a large bead of precum slithered from the tip, tracing the contours of a thick vein that ran up the bottom.

“Please -” Loki whimpered, his hands twitching. One came to wrap around your waist, gently holding you, the other he clenched in the fabric of his trousers.

“Can I taste?”

“Yes - of course, please, Asynja, do not torment me, can you not feel how I ache for you. How my body needs you?”

He squeezed his eyes closed, the sound of fabric ripping slowly accompanying the tightening of his first.

“I’d hate to leave you aching, my Prince.” You teased, leaning forwards and wrapping your hands around as much of his girth as you could. Tugging yourself closer to him you let your tongue dancing over his throbbing vein, arching higher towards the flare around the head. Marvelling at the beautiful shades his Jotun form afford him, you missed a second roll of precum escaping down the side and soaking your arm.

“Norns -” Loki clenched his jaw, “I must apologise for -”

“Please, don’t.” You knelt up and licked him again, eagerly tasting as much of him as you could. “You taste a little different, it’s fascinating.”

“Asynja,” he warned.

“Well -” you licked, “you do.”

Reaching the sensitive head you dipped your face towards his slit, pressing your nose into the soft flesh and pushing your tongue down, swirling it and pulsing as he did to you. You were rewarded with more and more of his cum, weeping past your pressing fingers.

“Asynja, I cannot hold back any longer - my darling -”

His cock pulsed, you could feel it against your body were you had pressed yourself against the entire length of him and it felt devine. Your body responded, clit aching for the feel of it.

“Do that again,” you begged, rubbing yourself against him, pushing on his length until you were lying on his stomach, wrapped around him, legs thrown over his base, toes curling.

The hand at your waist squeezed too and you felt the sensation of him moving you gently, the drag and pull of skin on skin, your pussy wet and wanting against his cock.

“You feel so fucking good, my darling, I can’t help it, your little body is perfection, made for me, made for my cock.”

You mewled, licking and sucking at his rigid length, thrusting your hips into him in seach of your own pleasure.

“I’m going to cum, Asynja and you haven’t even tried to move away.” He growled, his voice wavering as he neared his release.

“Don’t want to, Lo, I want your cum, want you to drench me in it, want you to use me and rub me on your beautiful cock, please - please!” Your sobs of pleasure joined his own, a deep knot tightening in the pit of your stomach.

“My goddess, my princess, my darling I will give you every drop you wish for.” He promised, fingers so tight you knew you’d have an array of bruises to enjoy tomorrow, but now, plunged into the most exquisite pleasure you’d ever felt, you latched onto the spot below his glands and sucked and sucked and -

Loki came with a shout, chasing your own release with each pulse of his cock, and spurted down your arms and hands, your back and legs. He painted his own chest in ropes and ropes of cum until he sighed, releasing your body and sagging into the floor.

Slowly he shrank until you were lying chest to chest on the cold floor and laughing.

“Loki, please tell me we can do that again.” You mumbled into his chest, lazily kissing his now, slightly warmer, skin.

“I’d be disappointed if we didn’t.” He agreed, “although I think we may traumatise my poor brother should he stumble upon us. Perhaps it’s time we find him and return to Tonsberg?”

“Can’t we stay here and have a nap?” You closed your eyes defiantly, hoping he’d give in despite how uncomfortable you both were.

“Sadly, I can not allow a Goddess, such as yourself, to take her rest on a such an appalling hard surface. Only the finest pillows and sheets will do for you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “luckily, I know just such a place.”

<< Chapter 15

Chapter 17 >>

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awkward-halfhug · 5 months ago

Text

granted | eleventh doctor x reader

summary : you've had your first kiss with the Doctor, but now you're nervous about the changes in your relationship

sequel to permission

(also on my ao3)

0.6k

In the days and months since you kissed the Doctor, since he kissed you back, your relationship undergoes some changes. It has to. You've wanted it to. But still, at first you're nervous.

It's awkward, trying to gauge if you can show your feelings openly now or not. It should be obvious that you can. The hard part should be over. But it isn't clear in your mind. Your nerves complicate things.

For instance, are you dating now? You don't know. You've never had a boyfriend before. And would the Doctor laugh at the idea? Of being your boyfriend at the age of however very old he is at this point? That thought makes you feel small and insignificant. Every time you think about his age and vast experience compared to you, the insecurity starts to creep in.

But when the doubts try to overwhelm you, the Doctor seems to know. Or maybe he doesn't, but he still manages to comfort you. It's, ironically, with things he's been doing all along. Just, slightly different.

He's always touchy, always has been. Quick, over in a blink affection. So quick u might think u imagined it were it not for its frequency. So u have to think about it. And when u do, u see it. It's all the same, mostly. Except now its slower. He's slower about it. Like he's taking his time, savoring the moments.

He still holds your hand, but now he doesnt let go when the running's done. Now he strokes your thumb with his; slow, slow, torturous. Draws patterns to your palm with his finger. Your hands never fully separating. Clinging like magnets, pinkies interlocked. Swaying gently in the space between you.

Sometimes you mosey through cities, marketplaces, sightseeing. But if his gaze is anything to go by, there must be something better to see on your face. Something better than waterfalls of crystal and purple-pink mountains. Something in your eyes he hadn't seen a million times before. His expression soft. His eyes thinking and concluding something you couldn't guess but still makes you blush regardless.

He still peppers kisses to your head, quick one, two. But then a third, lips pressed to your hairline. He stays, hands cradling your head, drawing you to him. He breathes in your scent, holds it, releases the air slowly, reluctantly. Filling himself with you like helium in a balloon.

He still hugs you to him after a brush with death, but now he doesn't let you go. Not for a long, long time. Like he's afraid to let you go. And he holds you tighter, almost crushed to him. Arms around you like he can protect you from all danger. Like he can ward off death with his body. It feels like maybe he can, sometimes.

And the difference you'd thought might happen, had hoped would happen, does. Still wondering at times if you're allowed to, whenever you want, you kiss him. Enacted with a searching look or bob of the head that can speak without words now. The asking silent but clear. The permission granted in a nod, a shy smile. Hesitant kisses from you. Imploring kisses from him. Exploring kisses from eachother. Kisses for reassurance, seeking and seeking and finding.

They're all little things. And they're all big things. All of it a question asked from one to the other. Feverish or shy, always the same.

Are you mine now?

Always answered, every time, silent words poured into eachother.

Yes, yes, always.

You think maybe you don't have to know if you have a title or not, for now. Think maybe you have something stronger than that to keep you both together. Think when you're more comfortable, more confident, you'll ask him, far too late in the relationship, if you're his girlfriend now. You think he'll laugh at you but you won't mind, because he won't be mean about it. Think maybe it's been obvious this whole time.

thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging/commenting, it means a lot ♡

#doctor who #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #eleventh doctor #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor #doctor who imagine #eleven x reader #eleven x you #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor x y/n

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kurogane2512 · 8 months ago

Note

After reading the Cocolia one shot in wattpad and then in Tumblr, I can't help but wonder at the end. I really want to see what happened after 😭😭

I want a Herrscher of the Void (Sirin) reader meeting Star Rail Himeko and the reader avoids her when meeting her because back in her universe, killing her Himeko was the biggest regret the reader made, thinking it was all a trap for her, now living in regret she has to get used to this Star Rail Himeko as they journey on the Astral Express. (SFW or NSFW)

I actually have a request for a fic about her continuation with the Express so I'll be writing all my thoughts in that! 🥰

And oh my god my heart broke reading the request all I think of is the arc when Kiana suffered the aftermath of the Hyperion battle and blamed herself so much for Himeko's death 😭

Game: Honkai Star Rail

Characters: HSR Himeko x Herrscher!reader (HoV)

Type: Fluff and slight angst with comfort

The Astral Express soared through the vast empty galaxy when an unexpected obstruction rocked the train and alerted its passengers. Pom Pom notified that some kind of portal formed on the path and an entity appeared from it, stopping the express from moving. March and Dan Heng took out their weapons and stood on guard while Welt stood in front of the door as it opened, the obsturction finally coming in their sight.

"Oh, it really is a train... Huh, interesting."

Welt's eyes widened at the person in front. How could it be? He had no idea.

"....Been a long time, Mr Welt. So, this is where you have been all these years."

"....Y/n, or should I say.... Herrscher of the Void? What's your objective here?"

"Now now, no need to be on guard. I'm not here to harm anyone, I was just strolling through space when I picked up your energy and thought to say hi~"

Welt glared at you then looked back at March and Dan Heng who lowered their weapons on his signal and allowed you inside.

"You have changed, Y/n. Did you win over the Honkai?"

"Mhm, you could say that. The price was leaving everyone and everything I cherished, but I don't regret it."

"You have been... floating through space since then? How long has it been?"

"I don't know anymore.... I remember I left a few months after that incident. When did you leave Earth, Mr Welt?"

"....Around 8 years after that incident according to Earth's time."

"I see, it's been a while then...."

Safe to say, your first encounter with the Astral Express Crew was full of surprises and uneasiness. Welt introduced you to March and Dan Heng to the best of his abilities, intentionally skipping to disclose too many details about Earth. You had just begun to take in the atmosphere and feel of the Express when your eyes fell upon a familiar woman walking towards you.... those flame-like wavy hair and golden eyes, you couldn't believe your eyes.

"Ahem, Welt? What's going on?"

Welt walked up to the said woman and explained the same things to her, all the while you stood speechless at your spot and stared at her with wide eyes. It was a splitting image, yet there were significant differences between her and the woman in your memory.

"H....H-Himeko? Is that you....?"

You spoke in a shaky and unsteady voice, countless memories and images surging through your mind at the moment. The woman responded to your voice and looked at you with a gentle smile, and right at that moment you saw her again. That face appeared in front of you, projected on this woman's face with the exact same expression.

"Ara, you already know my name? Welt, did you tell her?" the woman named Himeko spoke, and indeed her voice was exactly the same as well. It was like meeting a clone, but deep inside you knew what was happening yet you found it hard to believe.

"Ah, no— How to explain this?" Welt said with a sigh and held his head. Himeko softly chuckled then came closer to you, observing you from head-to-toe for a moment with a smile.

"Welcome to the Astral Express. I'm Himeko, the Navigator of the Express. It's a pleasure to meet someone like you, Y/n. Welt has told me about Herrschers on his home world, and I must say it's quite exciting to meet one with my own eyes finally."

This woman was her, yet also wasn't her. You didn't know how to react.

"Uh... I... I...." you stammered and stepped back, wanting to run far away from here.

"I.... No.... I.... I'm sorry!" you blurted out and summoned a portal but couldn't jump in as Welt held your arm and stopped you, using his own powers to cancel out your portal.

"Hold it, Y/n! Dan Heng, March! Don't let her leave!" Welt ordered and both March and Dan Heng immediately held you from the other side.

"W-What?! Welt, let me go! What's the meaning of this?!" you shouted and struggled out of their hold; you could push everyone away in the blink of an eye but the presence of the woman in front made you powerless.

"Y/n, calm down! Let us talk first!" Welt shouted.

"I don't want to! Let me go! I'll leave and never come back! I promise I won't hurt anyone!" tears were swelling up in your eyes as you looked back n forth at all the people in front. Himeko was visibly worried and tried to help as well, but the barrage of traumatic memories and your past weighed you down causing you to pass out in front of everyone. The next time you woke up was in one of the rooms of the Express, tears stains on your face as you stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and recalled your past.

You had a slight hope it was your Himeko, but you knew that wasn't the case and maybe that was for the best. You ended up staying on the Express for a few days on Welt's request, you didn't understand his motive but you couldn't deny you were drawn to the company here. March and Dang Heng were pleasant to be around and kept you occupied with questions and activities, eager to see your powers and know you more.

As for Himeko? You didn't see her after you woke up, you were informed she was fixing up any problems on the Express caused by your unexpected arrival. But that was only for a day. Afterwards, you saw her every now and then sitting in the lobby drinking coffee or reading some book. She always greeted you with the same gentle smile and offered you to sit beside her but you politely refused every time.

You had come close to everyone on the Express except Himeko, and she was quick to notice that. It was obvious how you avoided her, either looking away from her whenever in the same room or making very small talk if she tried approaching you. While Himeko would never interfere in your personal life, she couldn't deny it was upsetting how you avoided only her. She wondered if you hated her, and what she did to make you hate her.

You had become a reliable helping hand around the Express, Pom Pom seemed to find you quite efficient and was happy to have you on-board. There were times when you'd reach places generally difficult to reach in the Express and fix errors; like the time when the engine suddenly stopped working and Himeko was trying to fix it but she needed someone to go outside and aid her. It was an easy task for you so you offered to help, despite your hidden reluctance.

"And... that was it! Well done, Y/n. Thank you very much for the help. I'd normally make Dan Heng go outside and do that but you made it so much easier. Say, would you mind if I invited you for some coffee and snacks? Or anything other than coffee even, I'd just like to thank you for helping me with this." Himeko extended a cordial invitation to you, hopeful that you'd accept.

"Ah.... Um, sorry but no. You don't need to do that to thank me. Uh... s-sorry, I'll leave now. You can call me to help again, I don't mind."

"A-Ah, wait, Y/n—!" Himeko tried to protest but you already teleported away from her sight. She sighed and looked down in perplexion; thanking you was just one reason; she had hoped to get to know you better and perhaps clear any misunderstandings. It was truly confusing and upsetting to her now. She decided to talk to Welt after all her attempts to befriend you failed, he was the only person who knew you best.

That night, you laid on the bed of your cabin when an unexpected knock came on your door followed by an even more unexpected voice, "Y/n, it's me. Are you still awake? I'm sorry but I needed your help with something." It was Himeko. You sat up in shock and contemplated what to do, ultimately deciding to agree since you wanted to help her. You didn't care what she thought of you, as long as she was safe and happy.

"Oh, sure. I'll come." you opened the door for her and she asked you to come with her. To your surprise, she took you to her own room. You didn't understand what kind of help she needed here, and you became slightly suspicious.

"S-So, what do you need help with, Hi— Um, ma'am?" you struggled to even say her name.

Himeko smiled, "Have a seat first, make yourself comfortable."

You slowly nodded and made your way to the bed then sat down on one side. She looked through her belongings for a while then picked up something and came to sit beside you quite closely, making you shift away from her in a tensed manner.

"Here, does this look familiar to you?" Himeko handed you a photo and your eyes widened looking at it, your hands trembling while holding it.

"T-This... how come? W-Where is this? And how do you...?" you blabbered a string of words and looked at Himeko in shock.

"....It's on a Space Station that the Express regularly visits. I don't know if it's the real thing, but it is there in their storage room as a prized possession of the Space Station's owner. Sometimes I have been close to it and observed it, and I hear some strange whispers in my ear for a brief moment but I'm never able to make out what they say."

"I see.... I do know about it. It's.... from my world, from someone close to me."

You looked away then handed back the photo to her and abruptly stood up to walk out, "Is that all? Sorry, I'll help you some other time��"

"I know what happened, Y/n. I know who you are referring to." Himeko spoke before you could leave, making you stop in your tracks with your back turned to her.

"....Did Welt tell you?"

Himeko sighed, "Yes.... I didn't want to barge into your personal matters but I became increasingly worried how you avoided me. Will you give me a chance to talk, Y/n?"

"There's nothing to talk about.... It's not your fault, none of it is. You did nothing wrong. It's my own inability and fear. I'm sorry for making you feel that way but just know you are not in the wrong."

"Then!" Himeko suddenly came near you and held your wrist, "Then, let me help you through that fear! Let me help you overcome it!"

Her words shocked you, the touch of her skin sending shivers in your body. You gritted your teeth then slowly turned to look at her, the same gentle smile and kind eyes gazing at you.

"....Let go. I don't deserve it."

Himeko was surprised by the hurtful look on your face then frowned at your words and pulled you towards herself, tightly embracing you.

"Who decides that? I believe people can change and deserve a second chance, a chance to make things right and forge their own path. I look forward to the future."

".....You are so much like her. She would also say something similar in such situations."

Tears welled up in your eyes, Himeko gently caressed your head while embracing you and you couldn't hold back anymore. You melted in her touch and familiar feeling, wrapping your own arms around her and holding her close as if you never wanted to let go. Both of you sat down on the bed beside each other and she held your hand while wiping the tears from your face then cupping your face.

"S-Sorry, I don't know what to do in this situation...."

"Well, for starters, how about telling me what's on your mind? You have only been saying 'sorry' and running away from me every time I tried to talk."

"Ah, sorry about that. No, I mean—" you mindlessly blurted more string of apologies making Himeko chuckle and hold you again.

"Just calm down first, okay? Take it slow, you don't have to force yourself."

You nodded then finally calmed down enough after some time and felt like talking.

"How much did Welt tell you?"

"Not much. He explained what Herrschers were in your world and what kind of powers you have. He said you likely hold yourself responsible for causing pain and destruction there, and that you have seemingly been floating in space for a long time as punishment for your actions...."

"He left out the most important part then.... Yes, he's correct about all of that. I.... lost control of myself and killed so many people, destroyed so many lives. Among them was her..... the one woman I loved. She saved me, but I was blinded by power and....k-killed her too."

Your breath hitched as you finally said the words deep in your heart.

"That woman was.... Himeko in your world?"

You nodded, "She looked just like you.... Same hair color, eyes and voice. She was my teacher first, she taught me so much and helped me. And I.... what did I do to repay her?"

More tears filled your eyes and Himeko caressed your head, "I understand. Thank you for being so brave and telling me."

"I know I shouldn't project her on you. You are indeed similar but also significantly different, I have noticed it during the time I have been here. But.... I.... I'm sorry I just—"

"Shh shh, it's okay. No need to say more, I completely understand."

You nodded and she again hugged you closely, keeping your head on her chest and tenderly caressing it.

"But you know, Y/n, what Welt told me about Herrschers was different, especially about you. He said you were experimented on as a child and injected with the Honkai virus. Then the Honkai virus is responsible for what happened, it controlled your mind and made you do all that, then you left your planet to stay away from everyone and keep them safe. And now you gained control over the Honkai all by yourself; so tell me, how is any of this your fault? To me, it seems you are just a victim like everyone else. In fact, you have suffered the most in all of this."

"....I'm still the one who committed all those actions, it was my body and my face. If I was strong enough to gain control earlier then I would have prevented it, but I couldn't. It is on me.... I can't undo it even with these powers."

Himeko looked at you with a sympathetic expression then gently held your chin and turned your face to herself, you gazed into her deep golden eyes and felt lost as if you were looking at the love of your life. But you knew what the truth was and there was no denying it, it was pointless to gaze into this depth and search for her. You pulled away from her grip and turned around, your back facing her now.

"Uh, thank you for listening but I'm fine. I'll leave the Express tomorrow and not bother any of you more, it was a nice change of pace meeting you all and you treated me really well. I can't thank you enough..."

Himeko was caught by surprise, "You know, everyone would be happy if you stay. They have all already accepted you as a Nameless. Pom Pom loves how helpful you are with repairs, March is happy to have a companion around the same age as her and it seems you both share some hobbies, Dan Heng is intrigued by you and finds you a good practice partner, Welt is... well, you already know him enough."

"....And what about you? What do you think of me? I have only been avoiding you all this time...."

Himeko smiled to herself and moved closer to you then embraced you from behind, wrapping her arms around your torso and snuggling into your shoulder. The action made you blush, her body pressed closely to you and her breath tickled your ear, her lips even ghosting your skin.

"Why, you are very helpful to me as well. Everytime you helped me selflessly and asked for nothing in return. I know how you observe me and keep a close eye on me even when we aren't in the same space. You avoid me up-front but you are otherwise always attentive to me, aren't you?"

"....How did you know?"

"Hehe, just call it a Navigator's instinct. Of course, I'm happy if you stay as well. You have been alone and lonely long enough, it's time you heal your wounds and find happiness. If you like being with us then you are more than welcome to stay."

"I do... I really like it here. All of you are so different yet you seem like a family, I didn't know this is what a family felt like...."

"Mhm, we have been together for a while and faced many things together. All of us will always support each other. That's the way of the Nameless."

You wiped the tears in your eyes then let out a chuckle, "To think it's Himeko again who's comforting me.... It's a strange turn of fate."

Himeko smiled to herself then kissed your cheek, a blush forming on your face as you slowly turned to face her. She cupped your face and caressed your cheek with her thumb then came closer and kissed your forehead too followed by kissing your other cheek.

"H-Himeko.... you don't have to...." you said embarrassingly.

"Hehe, I can't help myself. You are so adorable and you finally called my name~"

You looked away bashfully, giving her the chance to kiss your cheek again. The barrage of kisses on your face didn't stop and soon you found yourself pinned on the bed with Himeko straddling you, both of you gazing at each other with ragged breaths and red faces. She cupped your face and slowly leaned down to connect her lips with yours, initiating a soft and gentle kiss. Your eyes opened wide at this, yet the feeling of her lips on yours made you melt into her and kiss back.

The kiss didn't last for long, it felt more like a loving peck with how quickly she pulled back, leaving you with a sense of wanting more. Himeko smiled and sat up on your waist, pulling you with herself. She wrapped her arms around your neck and embraced you again, whispering in a soft tone, "Let's take it slow, shall we? If you want to do more, that is~"

You blushed then kept your hand on her upper back and nodded, "I do.... but I don't want to think of you as a replacement for her. You are Himeko but you are not her, and I want to love you for who you are not because you are Himeko. Um, did that make sense?"

"Mhm, I understand. I also want that, I'd be upset if you take me just because I look and sound like her...." she paushed then leaned close to your ear, "....I'll make you love me, I hope you will be prepared~"

Little did you both know that you were already drawn to her, the Himeko that she was and not the one in your memory.

#honkai star rail #star rail #hsr himeko #hsr x reader #hsr himeko x reader #honkai star rail himeko #himeko x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr women #fem reader #herrscher reader

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stareaterau · 1 year ago

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Chapter 1 episode 2

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Let me introduce you to our cowboy, as he takes a trip

CW: injury and description of broken bones

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A lonely cowboy trudges through the desert, bleary-eyed and hatless. His name is Jimmy.

He woke up not too long ago, face down in the sand and alone. The grains refuse to budge from their places buried between the colourful feathers on his face. With a sigh, he stops trying to scratch at the feathers to dislodge them, resigning himself to the permanent itch. It wouldn’t have helped for long anyways, the wind would soon blow more sand back into the gaps in his feathers, along with just about every other part of his lanky body. Jimmy coughs, dust coating the back of his throat. He pulls up his red bandana, from where it rests around his neck, to protect the lower half of his face. He’s not a stranger to waking up in the desert, it’s always been tempting for him to nap between the dunes, shielded from the winds and the distractions of Tumble Town. These are not those dunes. The land is flat, aside from a cracked layer of earth. The sun beats down on every surface, with next to no trees or bushes to offer much needed shade. Jimmy frowns, trying to recall the events that led him here. He must’ve fallen asleep on his horse and fallen off. He had been riding for a while… and it wouldn’t be the first time. Although, how he didn’t wake up when he fell is still a mystery to him. Maybe he fell head first. The horse must’ve wandered off while he was out… with all his belongings attached to their saddle.

And then there’s the beeping. It started off infrequently, only sounding every couple minutes. Jimmy thought he’d imagined it at first, that maybe he got heat stroke from sleeping under the sun for so long, but he reasoned that it’s far too consistent to be a hallucination. He’s not sure if that even makes sense, but it’s clearly speeding up and slowing down depending on the direction that he’s walking, so he’s sure that it’s leading him somewhere.

His running theory is that, somehow, the beeping is leading him to his horse, who, hopefully, has not managed to lose his stuff in the middle of this vast desert. Or, if not his horse, then whoever has found his belongings. If that’s the case, he hopes they’re friendly— he’s been robbed a few times and he’s not all that excited to add another experience to the list. Jimmy’s second, and just as unlikely, theory is that he’s being led towards water. That somehow he picked up some kind of water detector and managed to forget about it. He thinks this one might just be wishful thinking… or both of them may be.

There’s only one way to find out, and he’s familiar enough with this type of environment to know that meaningless wandering isn’t going to help him.

The beeping increases steadily the further he treks across the sands, dragging his sore, bird-like feet. The makeshift shoes he cut from an old pair of boots, so that they could fit, do a poor job of protecting him from the scorching earth. The more wiry trees and bushes cross his path, the more certain he becomes that he’s in a completely different desert than the one he calls home. He’s never been much of an expert in flora, but he knows he’s never seen these plants before. Their branches are thorny and muddy red, unlike the ones he’s used to. Hell, he doesn’t think he’s seen a single cactus. He probably would have tried to cut it down to see if it was edible if he had.

Despite the beeping leading Jimmy in a straight direction, he has to carefully wind his way through the desert, walking around the trenches that split the ground for miles. He almost broke his ankle in one of the shallower cracks earlier when he misjudged its depth. He pays more attention to them now, observing as they slowly grow deeper and wider, creating the chasms that lead on and on until into the dust clouds and heat waves.

Jimmy misses his hat. He will never again take its wide brim for granted, and how it blocked the harsh sun. His eyes hurt. He thought he’d have more time before the sun reached its peak, but the star moved much faster than expected. Jimmy is tempted to reason that the difference is because he’s on an entirely different planet, rather than just an unfamiliar part of the desert. A planet that rotates significantly faster than the one he calls home. But he’s not thinking that, because how could that even happen? How would he get back home? No, he lost track of time. He’s just been walking for longer than he thought. Jimmy has been living in the desert for years now, and has grown used to the heat— the feeling of feathers damp with sweat and covered in sand is a familiar sensation— but the temperature is starting to get to him. The lack of shade and water make it impossible to find a moment of relief.

The beeping grows faster, and he searches for a change in the landscape around him. The ground remains an empty plane, with nothing but the deep, wide fissures marking its surface. He’s starting to hope the beeping might be leading him to a settlement, rather than his horse. At least then he'll be able to get out of the sun.

Zoning back into the beeping, Jimmy realizes it’s slowed, a notable gap forming between each sound. Whatever he’s been walking towards must’ve changed directions, or maybe he just walked past it somehow. Looking around, nothing has changed. He hasn’t even seen animals skittering across the sand, no lizards— or alien lizard equivalents— basking under the hot sun. Trying to reorientate himself, Jimmy begins to test the beeps, listening for which directions make it speed up. But it keeps shifting. The beeping then speeds up to its fastest speed yet, the separate beeps bleeding into one sound before stopping completely, only for it to start up again a moment later. Maybe it’s leading him somewhere vertically? He looks up.

He starts walking, keeping his eyes on the sky, hoping it might reveal something new to him, but he foolishly loses track of the topography. Before he knows it, one foot sinks into unsteady ground, then the other finds nothing but air, and he’s falling.

Reflexively, he holds his arms in front of him, hoping helplessly that it will slow his plunge into the cavernous ravine.

An old reflex cries out. One long forgotten and useless. He tries to listen.

First there’s the hiss of sand, pattering over the surface below. Then a sickening crack as Jimmy lands on his outstretched arm. Pain shoots through his side.

He opens his mouth to yell, but he’s interrupted by another scream, next to him.

Scrambling to the wall and clutching his injured arm, Jimmy’s mind works on pure adrenaline as he tries to push through the pain, and wills his vision clear enough for him to see his new company.

The figure curled on the floor mirrors him, clutching their own arm to their chest.

Their body is covered in a light yellow fur, which darkens to a reddish brown at the tips of their limbs. Their fiery hair and tail flicker wildly with distress— a blazeborn. They’re wearing a torn sleeveless shirt, with a thick, dark coat tied around their waist. Why anyone would carry a coat like that out here, Jimmy cannot understand.

Their bright yellow eyes are wide like suns, shining right at Jimmy. They let out a quavery wheeze.

Jimmy shakes his head, fending off the delirium.

He coughs a pained, bitter laugh. His ribs ache. “...Hello?”

“Are you okay?” They manage back, looking and sounding like they’re in just as much pain as he is.

“Are you okay?” Jimmy nods pointedly to their broken arm. He can see its misshapen form from here. He doesn’t want to imagine what his own arm looks like.

The blazeborn shuffles tentatively towards him, making sure to not move their arm.

“I don't know- I don't know how it happened. You just fell and then I felt-”

Jimmy's eyes snap open with the realization. “Did I fall on you?! I’M SO SORRY!!”

“No no, you fell nowhere near me-” they shake their head, whining slightly, just as Jimmy feels a pulse of pain and bites back a wince himself.

With that, the look on their face morphs from concern to confusion. They shift closer to him, close enough that Jimmy can see the slight blue wisps in their warm flames. This might be the first time he’s been this close to a blazeborn. He always thought they’d give off more heat than this.

They don’t meet his gaze though, their attention directed elsewhere.

Gently, they pull their good arm from where it rests on their chest. Before Jimmy can question them, they tap his injured arm. A bolt of pain shoots through his body— he pulls back violently.

“OW!! THAT HURTS!” he yells, but his anger dissipates once he spots the blazeborn grimacing from their own pain. They blink rapidly, fighting through the daze. When it passes, they focus on Jimmy with an apologetic expression.

“This sounds crazy, but I think we're- connected.”

“What?! What are you on about?” Jimmy barks, confusion and pain leading easily into anger.

“Look, if I-”

Jimmy catches them by the wrist as they make another move to prod him.

“If you poke me one more time I swear-” Jimmy threatens in his best attempt at an authoritative tone, tightening his grip on their arm, challenging them.

They pause, considering him for a moment. Their eyes, without a trace of fear, flick down to Jimmy’s arm before returning to meet his gaze. They seem to be more intrigued than anything.

“Okay, okay, how about you poke me, then.” They direct his hand over to their injured arm.

"W-why?" Jimmy squawks, resisting.

“You'll feel the same thing. If my guess is right, at least.”

The way they laugh afterwards doesn't exactly fill Jimmy with much confidence. It reminds him of a mad scientist excited to test their hypothesis regardless of their questionable, painful methods. The logic makes his head spin; the stranger’s certainty is a jarring contrast. He feels like he’s out of the loop about something.

”....Okay. Are you sure?”

They grin wildly at him, their sharp teeth on full display.

“Go ahead, I'm giving you permission.”

“HM.” Jimmy hums with audible suspicion, baffled as to why someone would willingly feel that kind of pain. Stumped, he grants them their wish. As gently as he can, he pokes them.

His own arm blooms with pain. The same white hot pain. He pulls back, gasping, faint from the unexpected sting.

“What- WHAT THE HECK-'' Jimmy cries, hugging his arm closer to his chest. Nothing touched him, but that’s not how it felt. His poor arm pulses with pain, and he stares at the blazeborn.

They huff out a couple unsteady breaths, clearing their head before meeting Jimmy’s stricken look with another weak grin. How someone can smile in this situation is beyond Jimmy, and how this stranger’s grin grows wider with each passing second is completely unfathomable. Finally, they explode with laughter.

“AHAH- Welp, this is definitely a weird situation!”

“How-” Jimmy falters, his worry deepening. “Who are you?”

The blazeborn casually pushes themself up against the wall, sitting down next to him. They wipe the sand off their hand onto their coat.

“No idea, and the name’s Tango.”

He smiles up at Jimmy, more genuinely.

“…Jimmy.” He replies, finding the time to properly take in Tango’s appearance beyond the minimum.

Jimmy’s eyes flicker to something tied at the blazeborn’s waist. It was a pair of big, bulky boots. He watches Tango kick at the dust with his bare feet. No wonder he isn't wearing them. They look more suited to insulating the cold and snow, rather than the scorching heat of a desert.

An awkward silence falls over the two, both of them trying to process their situation, and grimacing internally from their pain. Jimmy rests his tail over his own feet, fanning the end towards him to battle the heat. He's not particularly sure what to say, especially to a stranger who is, by some unexplainable magic, connected to him. Fortunately for him, he doesn't have to go first.

“So, Jimmy… What got you here?” Tango breaks the silence.

“I fell.” He replies dumbly, not registering the question completely.

Tango spits out a laugh. “No, I mean- in this desert.”

Jimmy shrugs, recalling all he can. “I don't know… I don't remember.”

He’s beginning to accept that maybe his horse and all his belongings aren’t on this planet at all.

He yawns, “I was just following the beeps-”

His head slips against the wall behind him, neck lolling as a wave of exhaustion hits him.

“Hey, hey, buddy- stay awake for me.” Tango reaches over, snapping his good hand in front of Jimmy and chuckling nervously.

“Mmm… sorry.” Jimmy rubs his eyes, blinking blearily at the blazeborn. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same.” Tango affirms. “I was following the beeps through the caves and ravines, and then I stumbled upon you- or more like, you stumbled and-” Tango gestures to the top of the ravine, reenacting Jimmy's fall with his hand, complete with cartoonish sound effects.

Jimmy, too worn down to feel insulted, just laughs.

“You think the beeping was leading us to the same thing?” He enquires.

“Probably- or probably to each other, actually. ‘cuz we're linked somehow!” Tango decides, seeming far more alert than Jimmy.

“Who… would do that? …why?” Jimmy asks hazily, stifling another yawn.

Tango lowers his gaze, brow furrowing. He doesn’t reply. Instead, he sinks deeper in thought, mumbling like he’s debating something in his mind.

Jimmy frowns as the moment stretches on, and opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, but Tango interrupts him.

“I think I might have an idea why I'm here.”

“Oh?” Jimmy tilts his head.

“You work with dodgy people, you get into dodgy situations.” He states bluntly, like it’s a matter of fact.

“You- you’re not a robber, are you? Or a murderer?!” Jimmy tenses, not-so-subtly shuffling away.

“Oh, no no- nothing scary,” Tango snorts, offering Jimmy a disarming wink.

Jimmy’s not convinced. He studies Tango wearily.

“I mean-” Tango elaborates, “I'm actually just an architect of sorts. That's not scary.”

“Could be!” Jimmy argues, “You could be making dungeons and torture chambers!”

Tango snaps his mouth shut with a squeak, a chuckle stuttering through his teeth.

"…yeeaah. Nothing like that." He assures vaguely, trying to emphasize his words carefully.

Jimmy squints at him, humming in agreement despite his suspicion. He goes to move so that he can face Tango straight on, but in the process, bumps his elbow into the stone wall.

Both Tango and Jimmy immediately curl into themselves. “Ah- ow ow ow ow.” They murmur in sync.

"Oh, yeah,” Tango wheezes breathlessly, “We should probably do something about these.”

Jimmy makes a small, sad noise to himself. He’s gone a long time without having to deal with a broken bone, and he had been hoping to keep it that way. He looks helplessly at his arm, and Tango follows his gaze.

“Can I see?” Tango asks, in the calmest voice he can muster, though the tension around his eyes betrays his own unease.

Jimmy just nods and moves closer, more carefully this time.

Tango leans over as Jimmy lifts his arm delicately.

“Hmm.” He ponders over the mangled limb. “Haha.” He concludes flatly, “It looks like we might have to set them.”

Jimmy pulls his arm back. “I don't want to do that. You know what, I always wanted a wonky arm, actually.”

“If it's any comfort, you won't be alone in the pain.” Tango tries with a weak smile.

Jimmy pouts. Conceding slightly, he asks “Are we going to do our arms at the same time?”

“Void, no.” Tango laughs dismissively. “That sounds like a horrible idea. The universe might just implode.”

“What?” Jimmy snaps, shooting Tango a concerned stare. Tango rolls his eyes.

“We'd most likely both feel twice as much pain, buddy. That's what I mean.”

Jimmy’s face tightens with anxiety, and he makes another move to scoot away.

“Hey, hey, wait.” Tango placates, looking around helplessly. Rummaging in his pocket, he pulls out two torn pieces of fabric. They look like they used to be the sleeves from his t-shirt.

Tango hands one to Jimmy. “Bite down on this?” He offers.

“Don't happen to have any form of painkillers, then?” Jimmy pipes uselessly.

Tango notices the way Jimmy eyes the dirty fabric. He shrugs apologetically.

“That's all I got, sorry.”

Jimmy sighs, willing himself to accept his fate, and clumsily folds the fabric with one hand. He tentatively places it in his mouth.

“So… who first?” He mumbles defeatedly through the fabric.

“Hmmm… you!”

Before Jimmy can process what’s happening, Tango snaps his arm back into place.

#stareater au #life series au #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #ranchers duo #cw injury #cw broken bones #team rancher #trafficblr

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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 months ago

Text

The fathers of Rome

Marcus/Geta/Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, crying, kissing a bit emotional, birth, family issues, written before the movie came out characters may be different

Summary : Two Emperors and the general of the army all had important duties and responsibilities but by the grace of the gods and with devotion of love the three most influential men find themselves with the news of a pregnant wife. Each of them has a slightly different approach to taking care of his pregnant wife and the birth, because a birth could always go wrong and the gods were rarely merciful.

info : I wanted to write something sweet for the three of them and I know that they could be good fathers (if you romanticize a little bit) now have fun reading and have a nice day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marcus

It was thought that the battlefield was his home and the sword was his wife but few knew that in a vast field of olive trees and wheat fields stood a large villa in which a woman lived with a small household and prayed between her altars to the gods that her beloved husband would return home safely.

A story of a leader of the army of Rome and his wife a former oracle who met him, foretold him his future yet his eyes, his voice and his being would not depart from her own prophecies.

An initial love of safety in times of peace, she appreciated his protective nature in a world that belonged almost entirely to Rome, danger still lurked everywhere. He, in turn, was captured by her grace and care, this devotion to those in need or to himself when she waited on him to heal his wounds and the two felt safe and complete together.

A husband who rushed home on horseback so fast he rode to her from the support posts when the emperors called him back the sleep was won she saw the shadow on the horizon from the balcony and even mounted her horse to meet him, ,,My heart" he embraced her each time still seeing the dirt and emaciation on him after being away for months sometimes years.

His hands closed around her, an embrace, a heartfelt kiss, tears in her eyes when she finally saw him again before they rode back to the villa together, she helped him bathe and wash her before he pulled her into the water himself, not wanting to leave her side and unable to do so for too long, he had missed her, not only her lovely eyes, her voice that he loved to listen to, her hair that he ran through and her hands that he clasped every time he wanted to be close to her but couldn't in public.

But with such intimacy comes love and with love comes desire, desire for each other, desire for each other's bodies and this desire was pursued many nights and on some bright days they were also close until he had to leave again, for the next raid not knowing that only two months after he was gone he received a letter with scrawled writing full of excitement.

A letter that moved him to tears when he read it for the first time, ,,I'm going…to be a father" he mumbled to himself in his tent above and above he realized that love for each other would grow into a life, a little baby that would look like both of them and a big smile stayed on his lips as he hurriedly wrote back to her expressing his joy and his heart, how excited he was himself, how proud he was of her and how much he loved her and praying to the gods that the battle would be won quickly.

The letters changed from weekly to daily as her pregnancy progressed and he received drawings of what she looked like, along with dried flowers she was growing that were made into tea and tinctures to help her body.

The couple were happy with words, kisses seemed to spread across the infinity and she was sent a piece of clothing by Marcus and remembered that he would return to her and their child.

Everything went well until he received the letter that she would go into labor in the next few days, the war took longer than expected, but it was the first and only time he gave his sergeant the lead and started the journey back on his own responsibility, which would take several days, but he had to go to her the fear and worry that something could go wrong that he would lose her or that the child was not healthy.

Fear and worry clutched at his heart as he drove his horse faster and faster as fast as he could back home where he burst through the front door and heard the screams of pain that scared him to death calling her name, he hurried up the stairs to the shared bedroom where he found her crouching by the bed, apparently lying down would lead to complications.

,,Love I'm-I'm here everything will be fine" he murmured hastily pressing kisses on her hand which she immediately grasped painfully and screamed again as she tried to get their child out of her, he could still see the love for him in her tear-stained eyes on her sweat-smeared body they were both covered in blood from the death of the battlefield and the birth of new life as she continued to push and the midwife helped her too.

She screamed out his name her pain and Marcus became more and more afraid of losing her with every pain she had as she continued to hold her giving her courage and hope when his own hands trembled as he heard the ,,I can see the head my lady keep pushing" from the midwife who did everything she could to make the birth as easy as possible.

,,You can do it my heart I'm here push again" he whispered to her as she looked at him in pain he saw the fear and yet the deniability that he was with her before she let out one last scream and he heard a bright scream next to blood splattering on the floor, a bright scream that echoed and seemed never to stop.

,,Congratulations, a healthy baby boy!" the older woman announced, dabbing the newborn baby lightly before wrapping him in linen so he could be held better, while Marcus helped his wife back onto the bed, covering her lightly and giving her a long kiss, ,,I am so very proud my darling," he whispered placing a kiss on her head, before taking his son in his arms, those light, dark hairs on the delicate head belonging to him but the pretty eyes were hers.

His eyes filled with tears of pride and reassurance as he stroked his son and gave her the little bundle she clutched, ,,A piece of love from both of us," she uttered, crying with happiness as she looked into her son's curious face and he chuckled at her as the two parents spent the next few hours together on the bed with pure happiness as the little baby went from laughing with gurgling laughter, to crying and finally falling asleep exhausted in the equally exhausted arms of his parents.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geta

The younger but stronger emperor of Rome, the warrior and leader who did not subordinate himself and enjoyed the Coloseum. A young man whose golden lure was not the only thing that seemed to be gold, he bought and made whatever he wanted, be it new armor, a sword, an army or even slaves that he could kill or do anything else with.

But in his life, his only blood besides his older brother Caracalla, there was only one marriage predestined by his father that he should marry her.

Pretty, coming from wealth and power but not a woman he had chosen, it was like fate, his father had decided like a god on the life of his son but it had been like that for some time now and as much as the couple was celebrated in public, the false smiles and hand-holding of the inner circle was seen through, they were both torn.

As much as they tried to understand each other and she appreciated his gift of attention to Rome, as much as he thought she was pretty and appreciated her patience as a true virtue, they never seemed to be in the same mood. There never seemed to have been a thread of fate.

,,Can love ever arise from a loveless duty?" she had once asked him when he wanted to retire in the evenings, avoiding her to occupy himself with his important things that his older brother wasn't interested in and always finding an excuse to avoid her.

She saw the guilt disappear from his eyes in the blink of an eye, saw him straighten the rings on his fingers before he replied with a ,,Love comes from the heart… a duty from the words of others" before he left her room and avoided her for another night, a night that followed one after the other until one day they attended his brother's wedding, Caracalla also married a highborn woman and gave the Roman Empire its first heir, as it should be - it was all just a matter of time.

A fact that Geta also knew, even if with a smile his bright eyes wished nothing but death for his sister-in-law, a plague that she and his brother would have to endure,

,,I want to see you in my chamber after the feast and that is not a question" he murmured to his wife who looked at him with an uneasy look, she had seen the looks, knew what was going on in her husband and yet in a horrible fate she felt the duty in her heart she had to bear him an heir.

The festivities dragged on for a long time, but with wine that overwhelmed her senses she distracted herself from what was going to happen, what he was going to do just because his place in the order of precedence would be changed, she followed his words, made a simple excuse and retired to her husband's room.

She had also heard the wine on his lips as that night began with a kiss, senses dazed by wine and yet there was still a kind of tenderness in his touch despite his hatred, she still held him close to her heart, something she clung to as hope.

A hope and love a lust she would not have expected from him overcame the nights of nights she saw for the first time his jealousy coupled with love,.

,,I know you are trying my love" he told her again and again his hand placed on her tree day after day she seemed to realize if she was pregnant until the day one of the midwives and his healer confirmed she was pregnant and a few tests brought the uncertainty to an end.

She still couldn't believe it was true, she felt his arms around her body and words of praise but double-edged words coming at her as Geta looked at her with a look that told her he had never felt more love for her than now, ,,My Empress pregnant with my heir" he murmured and immediately let the news spread everywhere rubbing it straight into the face of his brother and especially his sister-in-law who was not yet pregnant.

The time after that was filled with happiness and yet paranoia, he was only more attached to her, paying attention to everything and having the room for the child decorated with her taste, choosing the furniture and the colors, ,,The room of the future emperor," he announced to her as she leaned on him and saw the room with pictures of heroic deeds and old legends showing victories.

,,A truly impressive room," she admitted and felt her hands relax on her now round belly as time passed, the moons and suns came quickly and her pregnancy increased, the closer she got to the birth the more excited Geta seemed to become, insisting on being present the whole time…an insistence she kept, only a few moons later her contractions came and the palace was filled with screams and weeping.

Geta shouted at the midwives and healers to kill them all or he would kill them personally while he supported his wife with words and did not flinch when her bloodied hand reached for him, ,,You are doing very well I am with you dear, with our son you will make it" he told her again and again kissing her forehead and giving her hopeful kisses until he shouted more death threats until the news came that it was almost done.

The last screams were full of pain and she clung to him even more, the pain increasing with the thought that had plagued her for months and her heart stopped when she heard the voice of the midwife saying ,,My emperor it's a…girl" and the room slowly fell silent, only the shrill cry of the baby could be heard, a baby without the right sex, a girl no heir.

Her heavy breathing and the tears rolling down her cheeks as he pulled away from her with a jerk, she was supported by her midwives who helped her onto the bed and took care of her as best they could while she watched Geta take her daughter in his arms and turn his back on her, not seeing how he looked with this "disappointing" birth.

,,Everyone out now!" he shouted making the little baby cry again and yet everyone complied, ,,Geta I'm-I'm sorry" she started trying to get to him when she heard a sniffle and paused, at first she thought it was the baby but it giggled and a clearing of the throat was heard before he turned to her.

Her worry vanished when she saw his expression it was pride, it was appreciation it was happiness, ,,The future of the empire an empress from the love of her parents…she will become a goddess" he murmured and came to his wife in bed put the baby in her arms and gave the little girl a kiss on the head while he held his wife's hand and gently stroked it.

He was not disappointed he had gotten something so much better, he had gotten love and a wife who was everything to him a family of his own the only imperial family of ancient Rome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caracalla

The elder son, the first emperor to rule with his younger but much more suitable brother, a pair of brothers who ruled together and brought Rome to the top of the world with its army and its strength, but above all a young man with a woman at his side.

A woman, the Empress of Rome, beautiful, handsome and caring, popular with the people and not underestimated in politics because of her own country of origin and family…but a young woman without children.

A woman without children from an age when she would not be empress she would take other jobs nor have a choice but an empress was not a politician, a warrior or even a farmer an empress was and should always be a mother first so it has always been but not with her.

The wedding was moons ago and even if it was a little difficult at first their hearts were close she loved her playful husband who was always loving to her and had a penchant for entertainment of any kind.

As long as Carcalla wasn't bored, he knew that his brother was concerned with everything else, including politics, for which he had little taste when it wasn't a matter of attack or execution, she could only entertain him by acting, playing or playing in the arena, and as much as they both enjoyed it, she became more unhappy.

,,Your smile is fading, don't you like it? I can hire a new actor or buy new slaves right away," the blonde immediately offered and waved the troupe out so he could talk to his wife who had been laughing all evening, her hand detached from her belly and handed him the parchment he had skimmed over in the morning.

A parchment with the emperor's seal, a message from his brother that Geta had taken a wife of his own on a state visit, ,,The betrothal and wedding, what's with that, starlet?" he asked, tossing the paper carelessly aside before rising and going to the table of fruit and helping himself to the grapes.

He didn't understand the seriousness, the worry or even what it meant for the future, not that they hadn't slept together often, the wedding night had been consummated and they had often shared the bed but it had never led to anything, she rose from her chair and went to him, taking his hand and seeking his gaze.

,,Cara. ..you're still the older one, a duty is on me and I don't know if I can ever give you…an heir" she said the lump in her throat almost cutting off her voice hoping he would understand.

She saw the humor fade from his face and he considered before he gave an almost stunned expression and grabbed both her hands hastily, squeezing them and locking them in a hasty kiss over and over until she broke away to catch her breath, ,,Please I-it may well be me…all this he may be the politician but I am the elder, the first and you do your duty every day you are with me.

,,I leave no room for doubt, do you understand?" he demanded and she found his hopefulness, confidence and euphoria truly inspiring that a small smile crept onto her lips before he took her in his arms the imperial couple found themselves together again that night, taking help from potions, tinctures and many other forbidden practices that they hardly left the bedchamber together for the next few days.

It was clear to everyone what was happening behind the closed doors but after trying and trying this hope was to pay off with her first discomfort and the first change, ,,Congratulations my Emperor you are finally pregnant" the healer announced as he listened to the results of the test and her report, her tears wetting the tunic of her husband who hugged her and twirled around and was all the more pleased.

The news also pleased the people and even when she saw the looks on Geta's face and his wife she knew she had done her duty she would give Rome an heir, she had not disappointed Caracalla, ,,You can never let me down everything will go well the gods are with us" he told her reading she put up stowage in the child's room and her own for the next moons so that she was protected and the child inside her.

The protection seemed to help Geta until a point, and everything seemed to go well until the day of the birth, when blood and tears covered the floor, ,,What's wrong with my wife?" Caracalla who was holding her hand on the bed but the dagger at his side seemed to slaughter anyone who did anything wrong.

He kissed her hands and fingers, tried to cool her forehead with cool cloths and tell her again that she was doing well, ,,It seems that the Empress is pregnant with twins," said one of the midwives who had already brought out the size of the belly and the prolonged birth.

It was news she needed to cry out and Caracalla was filled with joy which he only showed when she continued to scream and push with the help of Caracalla who got into a kneeling position and the moments of pain merged until the first child was pushed out, ,,A boy!" the midwife shouted and took care of the little creature while the younger one continued to hold on to her husband.

The blonde gave her a proud kiss on the head, ,,Do you hear that? Our son love you can do it I am here" he murmured over and over until another cry from her side and a second bright cry told them that it was done that night a boy and his sister were born, Caracalla proudly and happily held the little babies and immediately spoke to them while praising them over and over.

The little family was not only complete but was now a little conversation of their own for each other, they had brought themselves together through love and received two sweet little gifts because they believed that their love was stronger than anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@morallyinept

@parvanovel -> I konw pregnancy is one thing but it's fluff so have fun :)

@sweetpascal

#gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla #emperor caracalla x reader #reader is female #male x female

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tumbling-through-deepspace · 23 days ago

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There was a vast difference between living on your own and living together with someone.

For one, Zayne never liked coming home to an empty house. That lonely feeling, empty rooms, and chilling isolation was too much, even for someone like him. That's why he spent most of his time at the hospital or volunteering.

Now, the sound of music is the first thing he hears when walking through the door. Other times, it's either Lyssa being sound asleep on the couch or awake reading.

Her smile, bright eyes, and soft greeting made him feel warm.

If she's not around, then it was Sylus with the pet names and teasing smirk that made his ears go all red. He was the one that cooks for them (cause Lyssa couldn't cook to save anyone's life) and was such a cuddler.

The Onychinus leader, even though spending his time between the N109 zone and in Linkon, was a constant presence and is always there when needed.

Having both of them in his life eased the loneliness and coming home was something Zayne looked forward to.

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mimi-cee-genshin · 1 year ago

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Old words unspoken ‘til now: Neuvillette; heartwarming, spoilers from his story quest, 0.7k

Imagine you were a history and literature enthusiast in the world of Teyvat. You collected books -old books- and you tremendously enjoyed the archaic language written between the dusty covers. The terms used, the odd sentence structure as well as the punctuation were all hindrances to the common person. With phrases slightly off-putting to the contemporary palate, one could hardly persevere through a single page.

Yet you, on the other hand, would read these books aloud with flair and drama, causing strangers to raise a brow and your closest friends to share a knowing smirk. As you walked along by Palais Mermonia, quick on your feet to run a commission, you heard a word you'd only read in the book located on the third shelf away from your fireplace.

The word? An insult. The equivalent of calling a person a buffoon.

Of course the one receiving the insult was oblivious to the fact that he was indeed insulted, as if it never occurred to him that it could be anything but a compliment. But as you listened to him wail and complain about how a certain Melusine failed to meet his petty expectations, you understood the drama that had reached your attentive ears.

The great Monsieur Neuvillette was understandably upset.

You had never forgotten the spectacle. You tucked it into a corner of your memory, next to the lines of an obscure but cherished theatre script written centuries ago. The single word brought you back to a different world that separated you not by space but by time. Old Fontaine, with all its flaws, also contained stories of bravery and love in its pages.

Then when you happened on a rare chance to greet Monsieur Neuvillette himself in person, you seized the opportunity for an experiment. A harmless one of course.

You quoted a line from your favorite play.

It was a typical form of greeting when directed to a respectful gentleman such as him. But the archaic saying revealed a brief shock in Neuvillette's eyes, just as he received the completed commission from you. He continued on with business as usual, not thinking much of your words. Yet when another sentence flowed out of your mouth, he could no longer ignore his heart. His smile could hardly be contained at hearing the equivalent of his mother tongue, the mode of words when he first lived among humans. Your intonations brought him back to his early days with Vautrin and Carole, of small gatherings and outings with those he cherished. A warm soupy aroma had wafted from the kitchen of Vautrin's mother and young children had giggled with the handful of Melusines he first brought over.

And without knowing, Neuvillette replied you. He replied in that old Teyvat language, with idioms and speech patterns he scarcely spoke ‘til now.

Your eyes grew wide, and then were replaced by an even wider grin. With glee, you spoke to him the language you only read from books, almost a little bashful from the excitement in your own voice.

He asked where you learned to speak that way and you spilled out your vast knowledge of centuries old literature, those cherished tales of characters you loved. In turn, he gave you insights into the settings and culture at the time for each of the stories you shared. And mid conversation, you couldn't help but feel the urge to write them all down.

As the people walked by you outside the Palais Mermonia, you continued to speak in a way that was unknown to the expanse of the current human world. It was awkward at first for Neuvillette, not having conversed this way in so long. But the more he spoke, the more natural it felt, and the words and phrases on his tongue made themselves home in him once again. The place in his heart that was long forgotten was brought to the surface for him to enjoy once again. It was a marvel to behold how a mere few phrases had uncovered this abandoned treasure.

So when the day was done, and the hours had passed from the moment you'd shared your good-byes, Neuvillette once again reflected on his former years. They were painful memories, but there was great joy in them as well. And you had just gifted him with a warm experience he couldn't have foreseen. An encounter that led out a forgotten part of his being.

A place he called home.

Thanks for reading! This was pretty different from my usual writing style and format, but I hope you enjoyed it.

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spacebarbarianweird · 9 months ago

Text

Touch

Synopsis: Astarion has yet another sexual practice to work out with Tiriel.

Thanks @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, oral sex, trauma talk

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

With a content smile, Tiriel inhales the evening air. It’s such a beautiful place they’ve chosen to put up the tent for a day; imposing mountains stretching in the distance, lush vales as far as she can see.

The half-elf stretches her arms. She has never been a stranger to night journeys—and the shift to the nocturnal lifestyle wasn’t that difficult for her to master. But it still is weird to sleep during the day, hitting the road only once the sun sets.

Well—it was her choice. Always ever hers.

And she always knew the consequences.

Tiriel gets inside the tent that is just big enough for two people.

Astarion is meditating. He is lying on his back, eyes closed, hands crossed on his chest as if he were sleeping in a coffin. His face is relaxed, peaceful.

Tiriel hovers over him—elves are usually aware of their surroundings during their reverie, though it seems like Astarion’s thoughts are far away because he doesn’t react to Tiriel’s presence lingering above him.

Tiriel adjusts herself on his chest, touching his curls, testing if she can get any attention from him.

“Hey, Little Star, wake up… It’s almost sunset.”

He still doesn’t rouse from his deep reverie. Tiriel smiles to herself.

She still remembers how uneasy she would feel around him, once. She thought someone like him would never pay attention to someone like her, an illiterate woman from the Wilderness who barely had any idea how the vast world she was aimlessly roaming actually worked.

But he is hers now, and she is his—in all ways that could possibly matter.

Before she met him, Tiriel hadn't allowed anyone to see her naked, let alone touch her. She was afraid of any form of sexual intimacy and even tried to persuade herself that she didn’t really need one. Maybe, it was only aftershocks of the numerous, vile harassment she’d endured as a child.

But with him, it turned out differently. She remembers how her heart almost stopped when he’d casually asked her to come join him in his bed. How good she felt under him—and despite all his tainted and cursed experience, he failed to realize he was her very first.

Tiriel thinks about how he almost cried confessing his deceit to her and how he flinched, probably believing she was attacking him. How his muscles relaxed in her following embrace and how weird it was for both of them to share a tent. Tiriel just brought all her things to his place the same evening he said he wanted things to be real between them.

And how he fell into his Elven trance with his head on her chest.

“Wake up, love,” she repeats, gently touching his ear. Elven ears are extremely sensitive. Sometimes, even sex isn’t as intimate for elves as casual ear rubbing. But Tiriel knows she can touch his ears any time she desires.

This past year has been quite the journey. She learned a lot about herself—about her own desires, her own body, her own mind. He’s changed, too—for the better. He got less crue, less self-absorbed. Learned to see the good in people as well as in the world around him.

And it’s only the beginning, that she is quite sure of. As a half-elf, Tiriel has about fifteen decades to walk these roads and she wants to walk them together with Astarion.

“If you don’t wake up, I will go to the town's tavern and get into some travel brawl—without you.”

He squints as she rubs his ear once again and smiles. Tiriel loves it when he is like that—already awake and fully present but too much in the reverie’s embrace to try to dominate the situation.

Tiriel can’t help but think that Astaron resembles a sleepy cat.

“You know, it’s rude to wake an elf by tugging at their ears, darling.”

“Oh, but if so, how come you like it so much, then?” Tiriel kisses the tip of his nose, amusement evident in her voice. “Come now, it’s almost sunset.”

He sits up and yawns, making the blanket slip away a bit and Tiriel giggles, realizing he is completely naked.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I am just happy you don’t cover yourself in tons of fabric anymore.”

“Surely. I wouldn't want you to put in extra effort once the mood strikes…”

“It’s not that, at all,” Tiriel assures him with all the solemnity she can muster.

Then they both burst into laughter.

“Dress up, we have places to go,'' Tiriel takes off her camp clothes— a pair of trousers and a shirt she keeps borrowing from Astarion. But once her lower part is naked, she notices Astarion’s keen eyes on her.

It’s not exactly lust in his ruby eyes, more like adoration. Awe.

“What?” She asks. “You see me like this every day.”

“I love it when you’re wearing my shirt. Your scent lingers on the fabric, even hours later.”

But Tiriel knows Astarion too well—something is bothering him. Something he can’t put into words.

She observes him for a moment before joining him on the floor again

They sit like that in silence for a while—Astarion, his bottom barely covered with the blanket; Tiriel with only the thin shirt preserving her modesty.

“Use your words, love,” Tiriel asks. “Tell me what is troubling you today.”

Astarion promptly turns away. Whatever it is, it embarrasses him.

“Astarion, you’re telling me about disgusting horrors of your past life all the time. What is it I don’t know?”

“No it’s just different…” he gazes at her and Tiriel realizes that he doesn’t look at her face, nor at her chest as he usually does.

No, this time, his eyes are fixated on the triangle of telltale red hair between her legs.

Tiriel feels a shiver run down her spine.

“It’s just… fuck… Tiriel, listen… I was constantly underfed and starved all these centuries. I barely could keep walking, let alone doing something more complicated. And I still had to seduce and bring victims back…to him. With a very strict rule to fuck them first even if it wasn't necessary.”

Tiriel takes his hand and presses her lips to his knuckles. When he’s reminiscing like this, he’s feeling tainted and unworthy. It’s breaking Tiriel’s heart every time. No, all she can do is listen, try to understand.

“But unfortunately, being starved meant that it was almost impossible to—well… “ he goes on, biting his lower lip.

“Get an erection?” Tiriel ends the sentence.

“Yes. So most of my victims were people with their own cocks. I could just let them fuck me. Use my mouth or hands, do whatever they wanted… I never failed,” he bitterly chuckles.

Tiriel intertwines her fingers with his, trying to anchor him in the present moment.

“Honestly, I forgot how it feels when my own body belongs to me, when everything is working as it should. When I drank your blood for the first time, I felt … strong. Free…and aroused as hell,” he adds.

“I know,” Tiriel smiles. “You went to pleasure yourself in the woods that night, didn’t you?.”

Astarion stares at her in shock. “How the fuck you know that? Gods, I hope no one saw me…”

“It was only me. No one saw you, I promise.”

He lets out a semi-relieved sigh and proceeds. “It’s not like I didn’t have other victims. It was just more difficult with women. I couldn’t be sure I would be able to give them what they wanted. So, when I found myself stuck with them anyway, I used my tongue and fingers to do the job. It was like playing an instrument, I assume. Every evening a new one, an unfamiliar one, but the principle was more or less similar. “

Tiriel touches his shoulder and kisses the pale skin. There was no spot on his body she touched without his consent.

He was being used, once. Prostituted. Sold. Forced to do things he never even wanted to do to people he never even desired. All this to satisfy the sick whims of someone so truly terrible.

Some people would consider Astarion a dirty whore. As he does himself. But not Tiriel. She doesn’t care about his “lovers”. It doesn’t count when it’s not consensual. He could have been very well a virgin when they made love in that meadow. Astarion can say all he wants that that time doesn't count, since he was performing and manipulating her, but Tiriel disagrees. It was their first night—one of many to come.

Suddenly, Astarion gets out from under the blanket and sits in front of Tiriel, studying her half-naked body.

“There was a time when I thought I would never want to have sex again. But I realized I like doing this with you. You make me forget whatever the fuck happened to me. Your touch washes all that dirt away. Your voice—when you moan and whimper only for me—it shuts up all the vile noise I heard when my body was used,” Astarion itches forward, his knee slowly parting Tiriel’s legs.

“I want to eat you out,” he finally says, almost whispering.

Tirel blushes. To call her inexperienced is still quite the understatement. And she hasn’t ever thought about this form of intimacy. Being touched and… licked down there?

“Please?” He makes his puppy's eyes. “Just a taste?”

“Astarion, I am not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why? It’s not like anyone did this to you before?”

“No.”

“So let’s just see if we like it or not. And if you don’t like it, you can always kick me like you did when I almost drained you.”

“That was self-defense!”

“Served me right, what was I even thinking of attacking a barbarian?”,

Astarion is getting closer to her. “Come on, love”, he purrs. “Open your legs for me.”

Now it’s Tiriel’s turn to bite her lip. She has never been able to resist Astarion. A few words, a couple of touches and all her self-control is jumping off the cliff.

But she isn’t sure if letting him go down on her is a good idea. Especially considering the reason he gave to her.

He kisses her hip, then her lower abdomen. Astarion could easily open her up himself, as a vampire he is much stronger than her. But he will never do this.

Astarion needs an invitation.

She's about to pull the shirt over her head but Astarion stops her when the fabric is about to pool around her waist.

“Tsk, my sweet, do leave it on...I want to smell exactly what I did to you when we’re done.”

Tiriel turns her face away. How can this man be so tender yet deliciously dominating at the same time? How does he manage to combine the sweetest words with the most vulgar and straightforward commands?

She spreads her legs a bit, opening her pussy to him. Tiriel senses the cold air brushing her labias. Astarion takes the invitation for what it is, his knee itching closer towards her womanhood.

“What a sight. But we can do better than this, can’t we?”

He touches her clit with his cold fingers and she mewls.

Tiriel senses heat and the growing swell. This man can make her cum by simply kissing her let alone such teasing.

Astarion makes circles with his index fingers forcing Tiriel to sink back onto the bedroll, unable to think straight.

Then, without warning, he dips a finger into her. She curses - he could have at least warmed his body parts! He is just too cold naturally…

Astarion kisses her abdomen once again, tipping his tongue into the valley of her belly button, before he reaches her throbbing pussy.

“Much better, no?” Astarion licks his lips, slowly adding another finger, forcing her walls to clench around the pale intruders.

He puts her legs on his shoulders and then lowers himself, aligning his lips with her womanhood.

Before Tiriel manages to say anything, Astarion dives his tongue into her, forcing her to gasp.

He eats her out hungrily, sucking and nibbling. Tiriel grabs his hair to pull him closer.

Then his hand wanders up her body again, squeezing her left breast, making Tiriel forget about anything. She moans, curses, whimpers. She can feel her brain melting, and the whole world shrinks to the burning sensation between her legs.

Tiriel squirms under his unrelenting touches, her fingers clawing into the bedroll.

Nothing has ever felt this good. With a few more of Astarion’s skillful suckles, her vision blurs, and the overwhelming wave of pleasure crashes down on Tiriel with no further warning.

And Astarion doesn’t stop.

Tiriel tries to push him away, just to get a short break but fails. He keeps sucking her pussy, torturing her with his tongue and fingers.

Tiriel clenches her hips around his head and elbows up to gain at least some control over the situation.

Her second orgasm hits her with a single hot wave and she collapses back on the bedroll, letting out labored breaths.

Only then Astarion finally lets her go.

His own cock looks painfully hard, Tiriel tries to reach out for it to bring him his own release but he moves forward a bit to straddle her hips, aligning himself with her belly.

Astarion strokes his cock only a few times before he spills himself over the shirt.

Gods… Did he like it so much that he came only by eating her out? Is her pleasure enough for him to react in such a way?

Astarion wipes his mouth before collapsing beside her.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Tiriel finally says and immediately realizes it is the most stupid thing to say after receiving such treatment.

Astarion nuzzles his face in the crook of her neck. “My dearest Tiriel, how can you be so sweet and so straightforward at once?”

“I hope you liked it because I don’t mind having this treatment from time to time”

“I loved it, '' he says after a moment. “It’s familiar but different. I didn't want to stop, that's how positively divine you tasted. Considering… how many times I did it I never felt so… good.”

Tiriel turns to him and kisses the tip of his nose. “If trying something else is an offer, I can be persuaded. But before that - someone needs to wash this shirt.”

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idyllic-affections · 1 year ago

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i’m in love with the kaveh disaster dad au you have and i would love to see alhaitham becoming closer with kavehs kid. like mr stoic over there having no idea where those books and supplies about that very niche thing they were talking about yesterday came from

newfound fondness.

summary. alhaitham grows a little more fond of the orphan kaveh insisted on adopting.

trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. alhaitham & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello dear <3333 i really needed a shorter request to write bc all of my other requests are a bit more lengthy and i'm in just a little bit of a burnout state so i am delighted by this request. i love my adoptive dad kaveh series...... i also realize now that i don't really talk too much about alhaitham and his relationship with [name] compared to how often i talk about tighnari and kaveh's relationship with them. also cyno???? i have neglected him too??????

at first, alhaitham wasn't keen on bonding with kaveh's adopted child; a child would only disrupt the comfortable life he has both built for himself and worked so hard to maintain. of course... he ended up being wrong. terribly wrong.

all throughout [name]'s first few months of being integrated into their new family in sumeru, they don't spend much time—if any at all—in kaveh and alhaitham's shared house. most of their time is spend in gandharva ville or in sumeru city, the latter being either on the weekends with kaveh or throughout the week with tighnari (if he happens to need something from the city and decides to let them tag along). given this fact, it's not at all a surprise that they didn't really know much of alhaitham, aside from the casual mentions of him from their other sumeru family members.

later on, as kaveh slowly grows into the vacant father role in their life, filling the empty space, they start spending weekends at his house... which is really the scribe's house, but at the time, that detail meant nothing to them. alhaitham never bothers to correct them, either. it doesn't really matter.

sometimes kaveh has to run errands and doesn't want to take them out in the glaring midday sun; they didn't grow up in sumeru, and they're already having a hard time adjusting to the heat (not that he's any better at handling it), so he doesn't want to risk exposing them to the sun at the peak of the day. sometimes he has to go meet one of his clients for a consultation and can't take them with him. who knows? either way, kaveh always makes these trips as quick as possible. his weekends belong to no-one but his kid. his clients find his doting behavior very cute, thankfully, so he hardly ever takes long.

alhaitham is always home during these occurrences (kaveh forbids him from leaving, since he wouldn't so much as dream of leaving his child home alone at such a young and vulnerable age—not that the scribe would leave them home alone, but still). naturally, this led to unavoidable meetings.

alhaitham quickly picked up on the many odd behavioral patterns kaveh's child displayed.

they were quiet—with him, at least. they were happy and expressive like most other children their age with kaveh or tighnari or collei, but with him? they never said a word, only speaking when spoken to, quietly shuffling around the house without so much as a peep... but more importantly, he sure as hell noticed the way they'd peek around the wall and shyly watch him as he read. they never got closer than that, though, and they'd run off if they realized he had seen them. based on this, he simply came to the conclusion that they were shy.

...or anxious, he supposes, but there is a vast difference between anxiety and shyness, and what he sees in them is not necessarily anxiety.

eventually, he does get sick of it. it's not like he worried about coming off as intimidating, no. it's just that if [name] maintains a poor image of him, it would eventually be an inconvenience for him. yes, yes, that was all. he just needed to kill a potentially dangerous rumor at its source before it got vastly out of hand. that's all.

"come here."

the way he sounds when he beckons them over is admittedly a little harsher than what he meant to be, so he's very much glad that they still do come over to him, timidly fidgeting with their sleeves.

"since you seem so interested... sit down, i'll read to you."

"h— huh? really?"

"hurry up before i change my mind."

as alhaitham reads to them, he points out words they may not understand and explains what they mean, also going as far as to help them pronounce some words that they mentioned having trouble with back at gandharva ville.

"oh... tighnari showed me that word, but i can't get it right."

they also can't pronounce tighnari's name correctly, which makes alhaitham's lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.

"here... i'll show you. which word is it that you're having trouble with?"

though it is something of a tutoring session, alhaitham finds that there's something... calming about it. he doesn't bother moving them away as they gradually get closer, only adjusting to accommodate them.

he also doesn't say anything when their weight falls a little heavier on his chest.

...did they really feel safe enough to fall asleep, just like that? the thought makes a fond warmth spread in his chest. he has no intention of telling kaveh or anyone else, though.

kaveh comes home later to see his child curled up asleep in the scribe's arms.

(the second he points it out, which of course he does, alhaitham's cheeks flush a slight pink and he coughs, telling kaveh to come get his kid and claiming that they wouldn't leave him alone.

the architect has never rolled his eyes harder than he did at that.

alhaitham's newfound fondness is obvious, but kaveh decides to leave it alone for now.)

from then on, they are just as excited and bubbly when they see alhaitham as they are when they see any of their other family. he's even gotten accustomed to hoisting them up, balancing them on his hip, and just... carrying them around.

oh, and alhaitham has no idea where those hobby supplies came from. he's got no clue where those books on a hyper-specific topic that they mentioned offhandedly the other day came from. he has no clue. none in the slightest.

...

maybe alhaitham is a little soft for them. just a little.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion brainrots 🌸#: [ adoptive dad kaveh! 🌸 ]#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #genshin x reader #genshin child reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin platonic #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader

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