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mxtantrights · 3 months

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where you go, I go

a/n: okay so while I'm writing this whole series for azriel just know that I had this other recurring dream about a plot like this. I couldn't really make it a fully fleshed out story with a happy ending so I decided to type it all out and make it a one-shot with angst and not a lot of comfort (this is your warning, this doesn't end happily) anyways with all of that said, if you decide to read this please enjoy and tell me what you think! <333 also happy valentines day <333

azriel x assassin!fem!reader

5.1k words

The day court was home to many things. Vibrant colors, warm waters, ancient books and of course the very ancient and magical day blade. It's your job to know where that this is at all times.

You can't possibly understand why the shadow singer would try to steal it. Try being the operative word here. While you did sense him enter your court and break into the room where the blade was, it wouldn't have mattered.

Seeing as it is your job to protect the blade at all costs, it never leaves your sight. But that didn't mean you couldn't have fun with those who wanted so badly to get it.

In your pocket you feel a piece of paper appearing suddenly. You reach inside and unfold it. It's Helion. He's requesting your presence. You smile to yourself, this would be fun.

You leave your hiding place, the palace had many hidden rooms and hallways, and walk over to Helion's day room. As you approach from the hallway you can hear multiple conversations being had.

The door is closed so you open it slightly.

"There she is! Come in and greet my guests!" he says happily.

You make sure you face is kept neutral. You had an image to upkeep in this court.

The people respect you and fear you in the same breath. You don't go around killing people but you do often get justice in ways that aren't in the parameters of the law. Whether that be stringing up robbers and looters from their pants, or burning down the houses of dirty criminals.

You keep your eyes straight, not looking any of his guests in the eye. You walk until you are standing behind Helion who sits in his usual seat.

"I was just telling Feyre that I enjoy the new company. This is the inner circle." he says to you.

You nod once.

"She doesn't talk?" Nesta asks.

You know all of them. It's your duty to know The Who's who of the courts. The inner circle of the night court. High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre-Curse breaker. Her sisters Elaine and Nesta. Rhysand's brothers Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan, past fiancee of Eris Vanserra. Amren, a mythical creature of serious power.

Helion laughs at Nesta's question. He knows you talk. He knows you very well, seeing as he practically raised you. But that information isn't public knowledge.

"She does, but not when theres something wrong." Helion answers.

You look at all of them now. How the girl closest to the shadow singer, Elaine, looks worried. And it's quick, you almost don't catch it, but you're so good at your job at this point.

"Trouble in the day court?" Rhysand says.

You lean over and whisper into Helion's ear about the blade. How the shadow singer came here to steal it, on a mission from his high lord. How he thinks he got away with it.

The room goes quiet as you pull back and Helion sits back in his chair. He loves the dramatics you pull off every single time someone tries to take the blade. The last person you caught was really delighted to be drowned in glitter, confetti and manure.

"Is there something you're forgetting?" Helion asks.

Rhysand looks at his inner circle with an incredulous smile. Then he looks to you, no doubt trying to read your mind. You can't imagine this will go over well either.

You can't feel it. The daemati powers that certain fae have don't work on you. You're not really sure why. Might have something to do with your unknown lineage. Or your overall hardheadedness-so Helion says.

Rhysand cocks his head to the side at your unmoving posture. He's still looking at you. You however are taking in the shadow singer. He's sitting there, not bothering to look at anyone. He must really think he got the blade.

"What would that be?" Feyre asks this time.

"Well, when you want something that another has you usually ask." Helion says.

At that everyone at the table grows grim. Caught red handed is what it seems like. You still manage to hide you smile though.

"Helion..." Rhysand starts.

"If you were anyone else I would have you locked up already. But lucky for me my security system is top notch." Helion smiles and grabs his glass for another sip of what could only be wine.

At his words the shadow singer now looks at the high lord. Your high lord. His face bares no emotion, like he can't afford to give a way a secret or smile.

You've heard about his reputation. But at this point that's all it is. He couldn't even steal from you correctly. This has to be the most interesting thing that's happened this year. You don't get around to much outsider business, you tend to stay out of it.

"I don't think it is." the shadow singer says.

Helion stifles a laugh. But you can hear it. And you know if you can hear it they all can. The room is big but not big enough that guests at a table can't hear things.

"Care to relieve them of their misery?" he looks up to you and asks.

You didn't really want to. But then again you'd have to play nice with them. Helion seems to like this group. Or most likely, his son is friends with this group and he wants to be friends with his son.

You sigh, "Take out the blade."

You watch in amusement as everyone at the table looks at each other. As if they all don't know what they really came here for. The shadow singer though, he's different. He's looking right at you.

His shadows materialize the blade right on the table for everyone to see. Cassian, gives him a look. But Azriel doesn't seem to see it or care.

"That's not the blade." Helion quips.

You call the blade to you with your powers. Being gifted with the ability to control sun made objects is fun most of the time. Most living things are sun made in a sense. So really you could control all things, to a certain extent.

The blade comes flying into your hand. As soon as it makes contact with your skin it transforms. The metal of the blade turns into a vibrant green stem. And the helm turns into the face of a sunflower.

Azriel seems to go through a range of emotions. First confusion. Then understanding. And then the last one, well you can't actually pin down the last one. You've gotten good at reading people but he's harder than others.

"The blade is safe in the day court, where it will remain until you ask for it." Helion says.

Rhysand lets of a breath, "I am sorry about lying, but we're short on time."

"And I thought our alliance was stronger than that. I am sorry too." Helion replies.

Helion stands from his seat, causing the others to match his actions. The sound of chairs on marble floors reaches your ears. You take a step back and cross your hands behind your back.

"We need the blade for a mission." Feyre speaks.

"It could be a simple mission or the end of the world. The fact that you have no respect to ask me tells me everything I need to know." Helion says casually.

You know that he is hurt by their lying. It's not deep, but it's there. He thought he could trust them. He thought because they had good relations with him before that they were better than the actions they are displaying right now.

Of course you know of the good bond between them. Which is why you don't understand why they didn't just ask. Unless there is a well justified reason. Why not ask the high lord for the blade unless he was implicated somehow.

How could Helion be implicated in a mission from the night court. He doesn't know anything, or he would have offered them the blade himself. No this is something he's not at the center of. But it still concerns him.

Lucien. You look at the guests around the room. He is no where to be found. True he's not part of the inner circle. He's an emissary. But if it was something the inner circle could simply ask Helion for, why not butter him up with his son?

Lucien may or may not know what going on.

"Where's Lucien?" you ask.

At you question all of the heads move to you. Right, you hadn't spoken to them this whole time. Well you weren't going to give them a smile and greet them kindly.

"What business do you have with him?" Nesta asks.

"He's in Spring. Managing relations." Rhysand answers.

You nod your head. Spring. If that answer can even be trusted. Let's say you do trust it for the moment.

The inner circle needs the day blade. They didn't want to ask for it. They didn't let Lucien come.

"Were you planning on returning it?" you ask again.

Nesta, rolls her eyes at your question. You can't help the giddiness you feel of getting under her skin. You hardly did anything to warrant it. But it felt kind of good.

"As soon as we were done." Azriel answers this time.

You don't ignore the stress he puts not he word soon. You also don't ignore the way his eyes seem to never leave yours.

"That blade is our most powerful weapon. We don't just give it out to anyone." Helion chimes in.

He maneuvers around his chair and stands behind you. When he grips both of your shoulders with his hands, you can tell he's smiling even if you can't see him.

"But I will let you use it," Helion continues, "on one condition."

"Go ahead." Rhysand says.

"Wherever the blade goes, she goes." Helion says.

"That won't be necessary." Nesta says.

At the same time Cassian says, "That's odd."

Helion shrugs his shoulders and lets go of you. He leans into your ear to whisper his next words very carefully. When you understand him and what he wants, you nod your head only once.

He grabs the sunflower from your hands as you uncross them from behind you. Helion stands next to you now. You watch as Helion brings the flower up to his nose and gives it a sniff.

"We agree to those terms." Azriel speaks up.

"Woah hold on-" Rhysand tries to cut in.

"Great. I think this will be beneficial to both courts." your high lord agrees.

You turn to face him now, your back towards the guests. Helion was looking at you with a very faint smile. You heard every word he whispered to you. And you understand the reason why: Family.

What you don't get it is why he won't just speak to Lucien himself. Why play nice with a high lord that knows his son when he can just reach out to him? Invite him to the day court or send him a letter.

Everyone in this room knows Lucien is Helion's son, except Lucien. And now your mission is to tell him so that he might finally have a true place to call home.

Helion wouldn't so easily agree to lending out the blade like this if it weren't for Lucien. And the night court wouldn't try to steal it if Lucien did know, because he could just ask on their behalf.

Your shoulders sag at the thought. You had no interactions with Lucien. You only ever heard of him from Helion and he only started referring to him as his son a couple of months ago.

It'll be you. You'll be the one to see him, come eye to eye to him, and tell him the truth.

You can see it in his eyes. The sadness. You'd do anything for him. He's a father figure to you. And you'll see this through, for his sake and Lucien's too.

"Promise me you'll smile a little bit during your trip." Helion says.

"The Sun Wraith doesn't smile." you answer.

"You're the Sun Wraith?" Cassian's voice asks.

You turn around and face the general. It's all over his face. The look of shock. It wasn't hard to become something of a legend in this court and the ones surrounding it.

"Even people in the night court are scared of you." Nesta says.

On her face seems to be another emotion. Not fear. Not shock. Something lighter amongst the surface. Admiration maybe? You aren't too sure.

"I'll grab my things." you say to no one in particular.

"And the blade." Azriel's voice sounds.

"I never go anywhere without it." you say, reaching behind you.

Grabbing the flaps of your yellow vest you flip it over and your hand wraps around the hilt of the blade. You pull it out for all of them to see.

"Best security in all of the courts." Helion jokes.

THREE WEEKS LATER

The mission has barely begun and you hate it here. You hate it in the night court. The days are shorter and you feel pale without even looking into a mirror most days. Nothing beats the sun of the day court on your skin.

Amren had told you it would get better. After your first meeting she had taken a liking to you. You were told by several members in the inner court that it was no easy feat. She talked to you the most out of everyone.

Second to her, came Nesta who was just curious about the things you allegedly did or did not do. You held off on telling her anything too juicy. It was funny toying with her with the details. She also likes your fighting style. Morrigan too.

Azriel talks to you. Sometimes. He's friendly to a point. Cassian is more friendlier than him but you're starting to understand it's just in his nature. Feyre and Rhysand are cordial. Elaine is, well you've been told that she's nice but you haven't really seen it. She greets you but that's it.

The inner circle didn't get on your nerves. But you also had your own mission. Deliver the news to Lucien that Beron isn't his father, Helion is.

Which is why though this whirlwind of a mission you're laying down on path of grass outside of the House of Wind. Weird. What was even weirder was the fact that Velaris, a secret city inside of the night court, has existed for so long with no one none the wiser.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Trying to turn your brain off. It wasn't working. The sun wasn't the same, it does't feel the same. You can't call off this mission either.

"Is this what you do in the day court?"

You'd know that voice anywhere. Which is weird to say as you've known the male for a couple of weeks now. But it's true. Azriel's voice was distinguishable from others. A bit low, but still soft. Clear.

"Yes." you answer.

"Is that all the explanation you can give me?"

"Yes."

You think he'll go away. He plays nice because you have the blade. He needs the blade, which means he needs you. Once he no loner needs the blade he won't need you.

When you hear the sound of him getting closer you want so badly to open your eyes. But you don't. You keep them closed. As much as you want to open them and see what he's doing.

The sound of him laying down beside you on the grass is one you weren't expecting. Also the feeling of soft cold tendrils nipping at your arm.

"It feels...nice. A bit cold." he speaks.

Of course he'd complain about he cold. Nesta had told you that Illyrians were whiny babies. You'd seen it personally when Cassian couldn't get a certain dish because there were no more potatoes for the day.

And now here his brother is. Complaining.

You hold up your left hand, the one close to him.

"Give me your hand." you command.

You half expect him to decline. To maybe even get up and leave. Or maybe say that he doesn't mind the cold. The other half of you expects him to just listen you-to see where it goes.

He takes your hand. You focus on letting the additional warmth you normally feel from the sun flow from your hand and into his.

Out of all the things you half expect and do expect, his laugh is something you don't plan for. It's deep. It comes from his core. It's gentle too. Which you wouldn't get just from looking at him.

"It's warm." he says.

"That's how the sun feels in the day court." you answer.

"I think you just spoke more than three words to me."

You scoff, "Don't get used to it."

"That was four words."

"Shut up."

"Two. We're regressing."

"Azriel."

"I'll be quiet now."

This is how you spend your time. If you are not training with Morrigan, Amren and Nesta. Or not eating with Cassian in the kitchen. You are laying out on the grass with Azriel in the sun.

It happens more times than you care to admit as the mission goes on.

ONE MONTH LATER

This place, Velaris, was starting to grow on you. You didn't want to admit that out loud, or in your letters to Helion. Or how well you were gettign on with Azriel. The trips into the city, the lingering glances and words with hidden layers.

You letters should only have on subject, Lucien.

He has been back from the spring court for two weeks now. You've taken that time to get to know him. You couldn't fathom unleashing the truth on him as a stranger. You don't need to be his friend. But he needs to at least trust the words coming out of your mouth when you say them.

Family dinner they called it. Even though only three of them were related to each other. But you guess that what makes their family unique. They choose each other, every day.

This meal was special. Seeing as you had finished the mission that Helion sent you on to protect the blade. There was a fae that needed to be tracked down and would only come out of hiding if he could see the sun blade.

Of course you didn't let him, but you did convince him that the fake blade you passed onto him was the real thing. When he found it wasn't after he revealed his intentions with it he got angry.

Angry enough to rain hellfire down on both you and Azriel. If it weren't for your fast thinking and powers you both wouldn't have made it out in one piece.

Now you're sat with the inner circle to celebrate your feat.

Someone clears their throat. This drags your gaze from the redheaded male to the dark haired one. The both of them were sitting in front of you.

How the mother is cruel and precious at the same time. One male is your mission which you planned for. The other male you didn't plan for, and yet...

"Az was asking if you miss home." Morrigan says from your side.

"Dearly. But its not bad here." You speak, not quite realizing what you just did.

You watch as Azriel's smile grows and grows on is lips. It hits you then.

"Wipe that smile off your face before I take it back." you say to him.

"No I don't think I will." he jokes.

You shake your head with a light laugh. You can pick up on his laugh too from across the table.

"Well if it means anything, you fit in well here." Amren speaks up.

Everyone at the table quiets down at that. You look over at her, peering around Morrigan. You nod once at the sentiment.

"You need to tell him." Elaine says suddenly.

You look to her sharply. She's gotten better about speaking to you. More than a greeting but still less than a conversation. It does weird you out some times but you let it go for the most part.

"Oh?" you ask rhetorically.

"Elaine I don't think we should discuss this here." Feyre starts.

"He needs to know." Elaine says again.

It upsets you. She is his mate. She is the one connected to him. She has known this secret longer than you. But you'll be the one to tell him? She doesn't want to get her hands dirty. None of them do.

"What do I need to know?" Lucien asks all of a sudden.

You look to him. Hoping nothin is being given away by your face. When no one answers him he scoffs lightly to himself and looks around at the table.

This is happening now.

"It's obviously about me, none of you can look me in the eye except for her." Lucien continues.

"I can tell you, in private." you offer.

He nods his head and gets up from his seat. You follow his lead and get up too. The two of you walk out of the dining room and onto the balcony. You pull the door close behind you.

"Before you say anything, do they all know about this?" he asks.

He can't be asking about Elaine. She's the whole reason you're having this conversation right now. No, he's talking about Feyre. His friend. Or who he thought was his friend.

What can be left of a friendship after a lie like this?

"Yes." you answer simply.

Lucien shakes his head, "Okay, you can tell me now."

You take him in. The tense shoulders. The bowed head. His hair is perfectly combed behind his back. In this light, he looks like Helion. Not too much, but just enough.

How do you up end someone's life?

"Lucien do you ever think about what it felt like growing up with Beron as your father?" you ask.

Lucien looks at you sharply, "It was unspeakable. I wouldn't wish that life on anyone."

"And it shouldn't have been yours either." you reply.

His brows furrow. Right in the middle like they want to meet so badly. You wonder if he's felt like an outsider before. If he's ever felt it amongst his brothers. The black sheep.

"When my mission is over here, do you think you could come back with me to the day court?" you ask softly.

His face goes from confusion to somewhat understanding. But you haven't told him enough for him to completely get what you're saying, what you're asking of him.

"A couple of times Eris tried to make me visit the day court." Lucien admits.

You nod your head at that. Of course. Ever the perfect actor. You knew him for a little slice of time in your life. A period in which you won't ever forget. He was your first kiss. You were young and kids, trying to figure out your own way in life.

Kissing Eris, the treacherous fox of the autumn court, was every bit exciting at your age. You gossiped, and word got around. But he didn't deny it. For all the lies and manipulation he pulled you thought he might say you were delusional, that you had made it all up. But he backed you claim.

Eris knew Lucien wasn't Beron's son. Eris probably protected him as best he could. In his own, Eris way. Whatever that means.

"You can invite him too." you say.

Lucien looks past you. No doubt at the inner circle lingering inside. If you were in his position you wouldn't even go back in there. You'd never talk to any of them again.

"I'll take my leave now, but thank you. For being honest." he says.

You give him a small smile, "To be clear I was to tell you the news in a gentle manner. What just happened was out of my hands."

"I get it. I'll see you around." he says.

You bid him goodbye. Then he's walking past you. You hear the door open and how voices inside seem to call his name. You don't hear him respond to any of them. You hear the front door slam.

With a breath you turn around and head back inside too. When you do everyone is looking right at you. It unnerves you. You hate it.

"I've done your dirty work now. I think I'll call it a night." you speak.

"He didn't deserve to find out like that." Feyre says.

"You're right, he deserved honesty from his friends." you retort.

"You were sent here to tell him the truth. Am I wrong?" Rhysand asks.

You turn to face him clearly. You can't believe he just said that. You cannot believe he formed the words with his mouth to say that to you.

Without saying another word you walk right out of the dinning room. You ignore Nesta and Amren calling out to you. And you ignore the shadow that walks with you right out of the room and into he hallway.

As soon as you get inside of your guest room the shadow disappears.

SUNRISE, THE NEXT DAY

You're skip training and packing for home instead. You wish you could pack faster but that isn’t possible. You don’t want to be here for another second. Not in this court, not among the inner circle.

When you throw in your last few shirts into the luggage a knock raps on the door. You don’t know who it is, but if it is Rhysand or Elaine you won’t open the door.

“Who is it?” You ask.

“It's me, can you open up?”

You go over to the door and open it. Standing there on the threshold is Azriel.

“I’ll be leaving soon.” You say.

His eyes seem to widen at that. You watch as he peers over you and takes in the bareness of the room, and the packed luggage. He straightens himself out.

“Why so soon? It feels like you just got here.” He replies.

Based on his words alone he doesn’t want you to leave. You can feel it too. How it’s only been a month or so but the two of you are comfortable around each other.

You sigh, “The mission is over.”

“And we’re back to this? Four word sentences?” He asks.

“Azriel.”

He looks down both sides of the hallway. His head turning left then right. Then he’s turning back to you. He looks nervous. Antsy. He doesn’t normally look that way. He’s usually so composed.

He takes you by surprise. He side steps into the room and closes the door behind him. At that you know your eyes go wide. He holds up his hands in defense.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for that but I just—are you mad at me?” He asks.

You scoff, “Yes I am.”

“Okay I knew that, but I was also confused because on that mission you saved my life.”

“Hardly.” You answer simply.

He groans at your one word answer, “You made sure those arrows didn’t plant themselves in my wings. You made sure I was safe.”

“It was nothing.”

“No it was something.”

You’re catching on now to how tense he is. Tense or nervous you can’t tell. His eyes are frantic. His breathing is also uneven. And his shadows are fully out on display now.

You do the one thing you can think of. You reach out for his hand. He doesn’t even seem to notice it. When you make contact he looks you in the eye. “Please calm down.” You whisper.

He bows his head, his hair covering his face now. All of a sudden he sinks to his knees. The action catches you completely off guard.

“I’m sorry.” He says again.

You focus on sending him warmth from your hand. In a second you can see his shoulders begin to shake. From this angle you can’t tell just yet if it’s what you think it is.

So you bring your free hand to the side of his face. You feel it. In the palm of your hand you feel his wet cheek. He’s crying. Azriel the shadow singer is crying, on his knees in front of you.

“I could have died and for the first time in a very long time I felt this deep regret in the bottom of my belly.” He chokes out.

What would he have to regret?

Slowly you drag you hand down his cheek. You place your pointer finger under his chin. Titling his head up, you meet his eyes. From this close you hadn’t realize how many shades of brown they hold.

“Azriel, you’re okay. I promise you you’re okay.” You whisper.

He shuts his eyes, more tears flowing down his face now.

“I don’t think I will be.” He admits.

“Why?” You ask.

He opens his eyes again.

“Because you hate us now, you’ll never come back here.” He answers.

In a sense he was right. Not totally. You didn’t hate the inner circle. You just couldn’t stand what they did last night. How they acted, how none of them would fess up. Even though some of them had known Lucien for a long time.

But you didn’t hate them. You didn’t hate him.

“I don’t hate you.” You reply.

“I could see it on your face last night. And now, you’re leaving so quickly. You want nothing to do with us.” He adds on.

There’s silence between the two of you. The emotions Azriel is feeling right now feel heavy. Way too heavy for someone he’s only spent about two months with.

You had heard many rumors about him. But him being like this, wearing his heart on his sleeve like this? You don’t think you could have ever imagined it.

Remembering that he’s waiting for you to answer, you remember to speak.

“Yes I’m upset and I want to go home. But that doesn’t mean I never want to see you again. Azriel I really enjoyed my time with you.” You speak.

You don’t realize it but your hand is stroking his now.

He gives you a look you can’t figure out, “Why does it feel like that time is over already? Like I’ll never see you again?”

He reaches up and places your hand on his cheek again. You don’t emit the warmth from there but he nuzzles into your hand like you are. His thumb rubs back and forth on the back of your hand there.

“You talk like everything is set in stone. Like there is only one path.” You say.

“I can just, sense it.” He explains barely.

You shake you head, “Azriel I was always going to leave.”

“Not like this. Last night changed everything.” He says, but it comes out more like a whisper.

“Get up.”

He looks at you, a bit of shock. You watch as he follows your command and gets back on his feet. He keeps your hand pressed to his face the whole time. Your other hand falls to your side.

“You can come visit me.” You say.

He’s silent. Silent but he nods his head at your words. You’re not sure if he believes you fully. But it’s enough. He wipes the tears from his face. His wings perk up, off the floor now.

You wrap your arms around his body before you can think against it. Instantly you feel his arms around you. Pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours. It feels right. It feels natural. No, it feels like something else too.

It feels the exact same way the sunlight in the day court feels on your skin. Like it is meant to be.

part two here!

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fic #azriel one shot #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fic #acotar one shot

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jewishvitya · 5 months

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We're nowhere near that point, we still need to be pushing for a ceasefire and then fighting for Palestinian liberation, but I was having a lot of thoughts about "after." About a culture in a place of rebuilding.

Because I'm the product of after. I grew up knowing my family is small because so many were killed. Every time I hear about people losing entire families, losing homes, losing everything they owned, that's where my mind goes. And I was having a lot of vague thoughts, and this video solidified them for me, sort of gave words for the grief and the anger that I feel on top of the loss of life.

It's a Korean American talking about Japan's culture and how they got to preserve it. Old buildings, unbroken lines of craftsmanship going back centuries. Beautiful videos online showing it off. And they say, "we too would have these sorts of videos if we hadn't been colonized. And that's what the annihilation or the attempted annihilation of a culture does. Your history gets broken. There's not a continuous timeline of traditions and artifacts and artisans because a lot of them died. And a lot of our temples and palaces, they were all rebuilt because the original structure was destroyed."

And they tie it into Palestine. Seeing the destruction of historical buildings. For me, I thought about how few people remain still making Palestinian olive oil soap, for example. This is damage we did that we can't undo, and we continue to do it. And it will leave a scar in history, even after they have the space to recover and have had generations to heal.

Things like this are why I insist on saying Israel is a colonial project. The things we do and the damage we cause - colonized people know it.

Anyway, this is mostly meant to share their video.

#riki babbles

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

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mine of you with me

Been busy this week bc my ex is getting married and I have to go to the wedding. His fiancée (wife?) asked me to be there and I love her, so I said yes, but I regret it big time. Requests are still open! I’m working on the requests in my inbox, but wrote this to get it out of my system. It goes with/happens before “three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life.” Anyway. Here ya go. mine of you with me

You love going to Jamie’s games. You love watching him play his heart out on the pitch. It’s fun, being in the stands and screaming for Richmond. You wear his jersey (his actual jersey, one that he owns) and deck yourself out in Richmond gear. You think your favorite part, however, is sneaking around.

You’re dating Jamie Tartt, star footballer, and no one knows.

Today is a game against Crystal Palace. Jamie had left before you with a single “Bye babe,” and a kiss.

After he leaves, you debate stealing one of his orange kits (they’re the most comfortable) but decide against it. Too obvious to be in a sea of red and blue. You settle for a regular “Bantr” shirt and head out the door to meet Keeley.

Keeley and Rebecca were aware that you were with Jamie. Keeley, because Jamie swore you’d be best friends. Rebecca, because there was a ticket mixup and Keeley was busy so she sent Rebecca to the ticket booth to sort things out with “Jamie’s special guest,” which led Rebecca to be very surprised when she saw you instead of one of his family members.

It made things easier, really, to show up on Nelson Road under the guise of seeing Rebecca and/or Keeley. Time passed and it became less of a guise. You really enjoyed their company, and having someone to talk to about Jamie.

But here you are, back in the present, with Rebecca trying to convince you to sit in the box while Keeley threads blue, red, and gold through your hair.

You just laugh and hug them goodbye, heading your separate ways. Them, up; you, down.

You settle into your seat right up to the pitch, and wait for the game to begin. Jamie’s picked a seat that’s right where the teams line up, so you’ll get a good view of him before it starts.

Shortly after, the teams begin to walk out onto the pitch. You look for Jamie and catch his eye.

I like your hair, he mouths, pointing slightly to his own.

Thanks, you reply with a small grin.

Jamie gives you a look that says I’m going to be pulling it later so you return with one that means I was counting on it.

Is it bad that you two understand each others expressions that well?

No time to dwell on that, because the game’s beginning.

—

Richmond’s done alright, they haven’t lost necessarily, but they did tie. You can feel the tension through the building as you weave your way through players and staff, carrying a stack of papers from Higgins to Rebecca. You’re almost to the stairs leading up to her office when someone crashes into you, sending papers flying.

“I’m so sorry!” you say, “that is totally my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No it isn’t,” a voice replies indignantly. “He was walking backwards!”

Jamie mumbles, “Shut up, Isaac,” while bending down to help you shuffle your papers together.

“Sorry about that,” he says softly. “Weren’t looking where I was goin’. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

He holds out his hand and you shake it, mentally commending his presence-of-mind to act like a stranger. “Nice to meet you, Jamie,” you reply. “I’m a friend of Rebecca’s.”

“He knows,” Colin pipes up, followed by an “Oi,” because Isaac smacked him.

“I’ve uh, got to go,” you say. “See you around.”

“See ya,” the lads chorus, Jamie watching you and Colin and Isaac watching Jamie.

Jamie turns around to see them grinning at him.

“Oi, what,” he says, hands in the air.

Isaac states, “You like her.”

Colin interjects, “Don’t even try to deny it, boyo, we saw how you looked at her. You think she’s fit.”

Jamie is sure he played it cooler than that. Maybe they just know him too well.

He laughs it off all the way to the locker room, changes, showers, and waits for Dani to walk out the door. They leave in a group, him, Isaac, Dani, and Colin, and as they turn the corner past the boot room you appear with Rebecca.

“Ladies,” Dani grins. Dani has a bit of a crush on you.

You and Rebecca smile back.

“Oi,” says Isaac, “do you want to join us tonight at the club? Trying to forget our tie streak.”

You open your mouth to decline when Rebecca replies, “We’d love to. I’m assuming Keeley will be there as well?”

“Becca,” you hiss, “I can’t go the club tonight.”

“Whyever not?”

You blush slightly. “I was planning on spending the evening with my boyfriend.”

The boys share furtive looks amongst themselves and not-so-subtly poke Jamie.

Rebecca says, “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to join you at the club. It’s settled, we’ll be there,” with a smile to the lads.

It takes every ounce of your willpower not to look at Jamie and to walk away with dignity.

“Did you hear that, Jamie?” Isaac asks, “She’s got a boyfriend. Sorry, mate.”

Jamie shrugs and does his best to look disappointed. “Must be a lucky man,” he says. “Now can we please go? My hair’s a fuckin wreck.”

“Mine too,” Dani says with a sorrowful shake of his head. They boys laugh and head out the door.

—

You’re at the club, standing at the bar with Rebecca. Jamie is there too, with the Richmond boys. Trent and Beard are there too, but Ted has opted to stay home. He’s not big into the club scene. Jamie’s sitting and laughing with the boys, but his eyes keep flicking over to you. Isaac notices and thumps him on the chest.

“Oi. She’s got a boyfriend, remember?”

Jamie nods and tears his eyes away from you.

“Dani, mate, you need a drink?” Jamie doesn’t even wait for a response before he’s out of his seat and headed over to the bar. Headed over to you.

Colin rolls his eyes, Isaac shakes his head, and Dani shrugs. “I cannot say no to a free drink,” he says.

Meanwhile, Jamie leans against the bar, holds up two fingers, then turns to you while waiting for his drinks. “Boyfriend didn’t show up?”

You grin and look around the room. “He’s here somewhere. We came separately. Not really sure where he’s gone off to.”

Jamie smiles back. “Not much of a boyfriend if he leaves someone as fuckin’ pretty as you at the bar all by herself.”

You shrug. “I’m with Rebecca. And he’s ok, I guess. When I find him, I’m going to tell him I’m leaving in fifteen minutes, and ask if he wants to meet at his place or mine.”

Jamie’s eyes become hungry. “His place. Definitely his. In fact, I think I just saw him slip out the door. D’you mind taking Dani his drink? You can have mine.”

You nod, unable to speak. Just a glint in his eye, and he’s become almost feral. You swear his teeth are pointier and your mouth goes dry.

Nice hair. I’m going to be pulling it later.

He’s gone before you can say anything else, and you have to press your hands to your face to cool down your cheeks.

Rebecca has been graciously pretending as though she can’t hear while scrolling on her phone. She looks up only when you grab Jamie’s drink, down it in a single gulp, and then pick up Dani’s.

She raises an eyebrow. “I take it I’m on my own for the rest of the night?”

You shake your head. “Isn’t Keeley here?”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Rebecca’s face. “Pretty sure she’s trying to take Roy home, so she is here in body but not so much in mind.”

You make what you hope is a neutral face. “Bec, you could get a man.”

She laughs. “Let’s get Dani his drink, shall we? I believe you’re leaving in twelve minutes.”

You set Dani’s drink down in front of him as Isaac asks, “Where’s your boyfriend? I thought he was supposed to be here.”

You shrug for the second time that night. “He had to go. I think I’ll be leaving soon too.”

There’s a chorus of wolf-whistles and you blush, again.

“Where did Jamie go?” Sam asks. “Did you break his heart that badly when he was flirting with you?”

You shake your head. You can feel Rebecca, poised as ever, next to you. It’s taking all your composure to maintain a straight face.

“I don’t- I’m not sure. He said something about training and sleep and I think he had to go? And I didn’t break his heart. He’s not into me.”

“Oh please,” Jan Maas speaks up, “His eyes follow you whenever you come to see Ms. Welton.”

You’re positive your face has caught on fire. “He just- he must- I don’t know. I have a boyfriend… He’s really great, and- I mean- I’ll talk to Jamie.”

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,” Jan Maas shrugs. “It is just the facts.”

Sam puts his hand on your shoulder. “It is alright. We will take care of it. Jamie is the type of person who falls hard and fast, and sometimes he does not care if the other person is unavailable. He sees what he wants and just goes for it. It’s why he is such a good footballer.”

You smile. “Thanks, Sam. I should probably go.” You turn to Isaac and Colin. “Thanks for inviting me. I really did have a great time. And maybe next time you can actually meet my boyfriend.”

They wave, you poke Rebecca and glance at Sam, then head out, pretending you don’t see her panicked absolutely not face.

—

You text Jamie, I’m on my way, and he taps back with a heart.

Door’s unlocked he replies, and then you’re off.

He doesn’t live very far, so you’re at his house in no time at all. You can see a few dim lights on inside, so you walk up the steps and push the door open.

“Jamie?” you call, “I’m here!”

You hear his footsteps clamoring down the stairs and in a moment he’s on you, fingers threaded through your hair as you kiss. He’s pulling you close, impossibly close, then without warning he picks you up, bridal style. He’s still in his clothes from the club.

He kisses you all the way up the stairs, then places you on the edge of the bed.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he says, voice pitched low. “I fucking loved your hair.”

You shiver as he lifts your dress over your head and runs his knuckles along your sides. You note that the room is bathed in dim light, from candles Jamie has lit and placed around. There’s soft music playing somewhere and you’re honestly surprised he pulled this together in fifteen minutes. You look at him on his knees in front of you, one hand on your waist and the other on your thigh. You fumble with the buttons on his shirt then settle for lifting it over his head.

“God,” you say, “you’re beautiful.”

He smiles, eyes hungry again. He gently pushes you back down on the bed and climbs on top of you. “Pretty sure that’s my line, babe.”

—

You don’t really talk until you’re both laying under the sheets, hours later, arms wrapped around waists and shoulders and legs intertwined.

Jamie’s kissing a trail from your shoulder to your inner elbow when you whisper, “Babe.”

He hums softly. “Yeah?”

“Do you think- do you think you should tell the team about us?”

Jamie pulls back slightly so he can look into your eyes. “Where’s this coming from?”

You shrug as best you can between his arms. “I just think it would make things easier, you know? I mean, I still think sneaking around is sexy and all, but like- it’s just getting harder and harder around Nelson Road.”

Jamie kisses the tip of your nose. “Whatever you fucking want babe. I’d give you the keys to me house if you asked.”

You smile, then let yourself drift to sleep.

—

The next morning, Jamie makes his way to his locker and tapes up a new photo. He’s holding a girl in front of Big Ben, and they’re both laughing. It’s his favorite photo. Sam sneaks a look and then does a double take.

“Jamie,” he says, disbelief written on his face, “Is that Rebecca’s friend? When did you take that?”

There’s a clamor while the team crowds around Jamie’s locker, Jamie grinning smugly.

“She’s me girlfriend. Been dating for months now. Didn’t want her to be harassed by press and you lot, so we kept it a secret.”

“I fucking knew you liked her!” Isaac says. “Body language doesn’t fucking lie.”

Jamie shrugs. “Never said I didn’t.”

“What about her boyfriend?” Dani interjects. “Does he know?”

Jamie turns to look at him, trying to gauge if he’s serious or not. “Muchacho, I’m the boyfriend.”

“Ohhh,” Dani replies, “that makes much more sense!”

“Oi, you lot!” Roy shouts. “You can discuss Tartt’s love life after fucking training. Get on the fucking pitch!”

There’s a chorus of “Yes coach, sorry coach!”

Jamie takes one last look at your picture, grins, then follows the rest of the team out the door.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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thedreamlessnights · 8 months

Text

Someone to shed some light - pt. 1

Astarion x gn!reader (Upcoming NSFW)

{series masterlist}

Synopsis: After being raised as a commoner, you find yourself as the last in a royal bloodline, forced into a marriage with someone you've never met. He's more than he seems. AKA: An arranged marriage AU with everyone's favorite vampire.

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood, death, and minor injuries. Mentions of sex, but nothing particularly graphic. Very brief, not graphic suicidal ideation.

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This idea possessed me and did not let me go. I don't know where it came from, or how on earth it's already 6k. I'm feral for Astarion, and it just... happened. Anyway. The royalty aspects are not remotely lore-accurate to the Baldur's Gate games, for which I apologize. Sometimes you just have to make shit up.

If reality is meant to be believable, then you must be in a dream.

No one ever said what kind of dream, though. Not a dream you’d wanted, that’s for sure. Most days, this all feels like some horrible nightmare. But maybe, just maybe - if you close your eyes and stay exactly where you are, thinking about nothing at all - it could be a nice one.

The palace gardens are beautiful, after all. Even this place can’t ruin that.

Silver moonlight shines on the earth below, giving everything a ghostly cast. Soft, silky wind brushes against your skin, and the faint aroma of flowers fills the air. Honeysuckle. Roses. Lilies.

Yes. If you shut your eyes tight and pretended everything else away, it would be a nice dream. But you know better. Beyond the lovely gardens and the ornamented walls, this place is a prison. And never, not in a thousand years, could you have pictured anything like this happening to you.

Not even in a dream.

You’ve never been one to fantasize about being royalty. Riches and power simply don’t appeal to you that way, especially not when comfortable clothes and the freedom to be yourself are traded in for the sake of discomfort and diplomacy.

Still, the reality of it is somehow even worse than you’d thought. The clothes pinch at your sides and itch at your neck, and you can’t move in them the way you want to. Everything you’ve worn is stiff and tight and ridiculously heavy, as if all your outfits were made for a doll, not for someone alive. Then again, maybe that was the intention. You certainly feel like a puppet.

If only none of it was real.

You still haven’t accepted any of it, not really. It’s as if you’re waiting for someone in the shadows to jump out at you and laugh, telling you it was all pretend. Of course you aren’t royalty, they’d say. Of course you don’t belong here. And you’d go back to your home, where everything is right, where you belong.

You can still see it all in your mind, so real that it’s practically touchable. The thought of it never fully fades. Just as soon as you’ve closed your eyes, you find yourself reliving that day once more.

The smell of baking bread floods a warm room. The heat of the fire sears the air. Customers bustle in and out, laughing and drinking and picking fights. Home. The way you’ve always known it. The way you’ve always loved it.

Then the room slowly goes silent. Wary. Palace guards lurk in the doorway, their eyes sweeping over the crowd, and your fingers immediately itch for your knife. The crown hasn’t any business in this place - what could they want?

When one of them steps inside, gazing at the crowd like they’re dirt beneath his feet, it takes everything you’ve got in you to stay calm. You can practically hear Cal’s voice in your head, telling you to take some deep breaths.

As the guard stalls in front of you, he stares. His gaze runs over you slowly, like you were less than he’d expected - a disappointment to him without even trying. “You,” he says. “You’re coming with us. Queen’s orders.”

Every pair of eyes in the inn land on you. Your heart starts beating so fast and rough that you’re sure it’ll burst straight through your ribs and fall out of you. The room spins. You’re biting your tongue, resisting the urge to pick a fight, because Cal is shaking his head and tugging at your sleeve. The single voice of reason in this place. Blood slowly fills your mouth with the taste of iron.

And you go with them. For some godsdamned reason, you go.

As soon as you’ve left, you know it was a mistake. There’s a whole troop here - enough men to tell you that you’re considered a threat, somehow. Enough men to keep your arms folded into you, wondering what in the hells you could have done to warrant this attention.

Despite everything, you force yourself to maintain some dignity, keeping your shoulders squared until you get to the palace. You suck in deep breaths and try to hide your shaking hands. This place… it won’t get the better of you, if you can help it. But it’ll all depend on why you’re here, and furthermore - what they want.

As you approach the throne room, they stand back to let you in. When you hesitate, the leader shoves you through the open door, and it slams shut behind you with a sound that echoes throughout the room. You’re left in a large, empty place with two shadowy figures that become clearer as you step further in. You recognize only one of them.

The queen is entrancing in the flesh, all dark hair and flashing eyes. She says nothing, but her gaze analyzes you from her throne as the man - who, from the look of things, must be her court sorcerer - approaches you. A needle pricks your finger and leaves a dull throbbing in its place.

Silence. A nod.

“It’s true, then,” the queen says. Her voice is like wine, dark and smooth in your ears. “You’re a child of Calthir. Royal blood flows in your veins.”

You’re standing in front of her, squinting in the bright light. Her words seem a million words away. Some other dimension. Some other reality.

“I - I don’t…”

“You poor thing. You didn’t know?” she asks. “Well. Perhaps they were clever to keep it from you. Or perhaps not.”

“It isn’t possible,” you blurt out. “What you’re saying. I can’t be… that.”

She raises a brow. “But you are.”

This time, your nails draw blood when they curve into your palms. Stinging pain floods your senses. “Then what do you want from me?” you ask, unable to mask the frustration brimming your words. “Calthir fell when I was a child. I don’t even remember it.”

“Where are your parents?” she asks.

You swallow hard. “Dead. Just after I was born.”

For a long moment, she stares down at you, her dark, intelligent eyes gleaming in the light. “Calthir has fallen, yes. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t alive.” Her words are measured, carefully chosen for the most impact. “Every day, more of my soldiers are lost to Calthirian dreamers. They want their kingdom back, their so-called rightful ruler placed on the throne. You. They’ve been searching for you. Do you understand?”

You do. “You’re going to kill me.”

She clicks her tongue. “And make the problem worse?” With a graceful movement, she gets to her feet, towering over you from her throne. “No. Their search is thorough, aided by magic. They’d discover your fate, sooner or later.” She pauses, lifting two fingers to her temples as if sensing an oncoming headache. “You’d become a martyr. Mass kindling for the zealots. I won’t have that.

“Then what?” you ask weakly. “Prison?”

She laughs hollowly. “And what good would that do?”

You can’t think of an answer.

“No,” she sighs. “Prison would be pointless. A waste. I still have use for you.”

Fear floods your gut, thick and dark. When you speak, your mouth feels like it’s full of sand. “Which is?”

She tilts her head. “I’m sure you’ll find it simple enough. You’re going to marry my son.”

In the gardens, the crickets are singing. It’s the first thing you notice when you come back to yourself, ears ringing. You’ve gone through that memory a hundred times, but it seems more real now, sharper, somehow. Your stomach churns with the urge to be sick, but the feeling fades quickly.

It’s starting to settle in. That this is your life now. You’ll likely never see your home again. Your friends. All of your ambition, gone - thrown away for some petty diplomacy. You’re engaged to a man you’ve never met, and for the rest of your life, he’ll be tied to you.

More than anything else in this place, the prince doesn’t seem real. Even his name feels foreign in your thoughts, a muddy figure you can never put a face on. Strangely enough, the palace doesn’t have any portraits of him - which doesn’t put you any more at ease - and none of the servants will talk to you about him. You’ve been here over a week and still haven’t seen him, not even for a moment. Not even a glimpse.

Maybe you’ll never meet him. That’d be nice.

You doubt you’ll get so lucky.

The rest of the night passes by slowly, oozing along like syrup. You’re more than happy to sit in relative silence and enjoy the peace while it lasts. After all, this kind of freedom will be a rare thing, soon. Your eyes start to grow heavy, but you have no desire to head back inside. Not yet.

When it’s long past midnight, the sound of a snapping branch behind you startles you to your feet. Your knife is gone, taken by the guards, but you reach for it all the same, cursing when you come up empty . But there’s nothing when you turn - nothing dangerous, at least. Just a squirrel, scurrying up a tree.

Just as you’re about to return to your seat, a man comes stumbling out of the woods, scaring you half to death. He halts in his tracks as he sees you, eyes widening as he looks at you. He must not have expected anyone to be out this late at night, and you can’t blame him. It is absurdly late. And yet, here you are, and there’s nothing stopping you from taking in every inch of his clearly guilty appearance.

The first thing you see, because it would be impossible to miss, is the blood. It’s all over him, splattered across his face and tattered clothes, staining his hands. His silky white hair curls around his pointed ears, dirtied with dirt and leaves. His dark eyes that you can’t quite make out the color of lock onto your every move.

He’s handsome. And, from the look of things, he’s probably going to kill you.

You aren’t quite sure whether or not you want him to, considering everything. You wouldn’t have to go through with the sham of a marriage if you’re dead. Then again… are you really ready to let go?

For a moment, neither of you move. Your heart is thrumming under your ribs, and your feet are frozen where you stand. His fear turns into something else - puzzlement. His head tilts ever so slightly. Then, slowly, he takes a step back. You don’t move, because what could you do? Chase him? You’re not that much of a fool.

He chances another step away, and when you still don’t react, a third. And just like that, the man vanishes into the night, and you’re left alive and unscathed, staring out into the darkness of the woods he’d come from.

You can’t help but feel a little disappointed he hadn’t killed you, or at least tried. It would have been exciting, at least.

After a few more minutes of nothing but silence, you turn on your heel and head back inside. The next time you see him is three weeks later, and until then, there’s not a moment he’s not in your thoughts.

As the days pass, you soon come to realize that the worst thing about this place is the boredom. It should be a thousand other things - the pinching clothes, the ache of your old life that never stops throbbing in your chest, the soon-to-be husband you haven’t even seen - but it isn’t. It’s the never-ending, constant boredom.

Gods, is it ever boring. You read every decent book in the library. You walk around the gardens at least five times a day, looking for something new. You linger around the courtyards, hoping for a bit of gossip. And every day, it’s all the same, and there’s nothing. And every day, you think of the strange man in the woods and wonder who or what he possibly could have killed. You’d checked the woods the next morning but came up completely empty.

As the wedding approaches, the air around the castle grows thick and tense. Arguments ring out from the halls about this or that - flowers, invitations, food. You’re shoved into at least twenty different potential outfits to see how they look, pinched and prodded. Servants scrub your skin raw despite your protests, even though it’s still a week away.

The queen is almost as rare a sight as her son is, though you do catch her slipping through the main hall once. She hasn’t spoken to you since that first day. Perhaps isolation runs in the family.

Which is why it’s so surprising when, three nights before the wedding, you hear her voice coming from a passage down the hall. It’s late. You should be sleeping, but your thoughts have kept you awake, and you’re roaming the halls like an aimless ghost. Your feet stall when you hear the echoing of words - something shouted not far from you.

From the sound of it, she’s in the east wing, an off-limit portion of the castle you’d been told was dangerous and in dire need of repair. You’d only listened at the time because no one else went in there, not even the servants. But now…

You chance edging in a little closer, keeping your steps quiet and your body in shadow. When you manage to sneak a look, Queen Erelin is standing in the midst of floors so clean that they shine, shouting at one of the closed doors.

“Every time I do anything for you, you fight with me,” she snarls, pacing up and down the hall. “I am doing what is best for you! Making you better! Why can’t you understand that?”

When no answer comes, she stalls in front of the door, lets out a long, heavy sigh, then throws her hands into the air and mutters something final under her breath. She leaves without so much as a glance toward your hiding spot. Your breath comes out in a whoosh of relief, tension flooding out of your shoulders.

When the fear is finally gone, curiosity takes its place. The east wing is silent and open, practically begging you to take a look, and you’re not in a place to resist. When you move closer, you can see warm light flooding out from underneath a door - the one she’d been shouting at. It’s not difficult to guess who must be in there, considering the facts. Would he answer, if you knocked? Would he talk to you?

A long moment passes in silence as flickers of movement spill their way under the door. Well, if you’re going to spend your life with him, you might as well find out what he’s like in advance. But just as you’re about to take a step forward, something stops you - a sensation you don’t recognize. The feeling trickles down your neck, plants itself deep into your chest as if it’d sunk straight through your skin - icy and dark and making you shudder as you wrap your arms around yourself for warmth.

After one final look toward the hall, you head to bed. The feeling fades. And, for the next few days, every time you look at the east wing, it’s shut tight.

Part of you is glad for it.

Despite your best efforts, the wedding rolls closer and closer, and as a horrible result, you get hardly any time to yourself. You’re escorted around, forced into fittings and rehearsals and who knows what else. The prince still never shows, but the queen is absolutely everywhere. She floats from room to room, dark circles under her eyes as she approves or denies things entry. She glances at you when she notices you, then shakes her head.

“I’d be the happiest woman in the world if I never had to plan a wedding again,” she says.

You resist the urge to point out that she was the one who’d wanted this.

On the day of, you’re ripped out of bed at a miserable hour, scrubbed clean, slathered in creams and fragrances, forced into yet another torturous outfit, and shoved out into the halls. People filter around you, carrying flowers and pastries and various trinkets. You stand there feeling like you can’t breathe until an arm loops around yours and starts pulling you through the crowd.

“Come,” the queen says. You don’t argue with her. She’s looking much better than before, well-rested and her cheeks rosy, porcelain skin glowing in the light. Her dress, light-blue, weightlessly flutters around her. “Given these last few weeks,” she starts, her eyes fixed in front of her. “Well. You must be curious about your husband-to-be.”

You are curious, yes. But you keep your lips shut tight.

She shoots you a piercing look. “I expect you to be polite,” she says. “He is your prince, after all. And one day, your king.”

Only then do you realize she’s leading you straight into the east wing - but not to the door she’d shouted at before. Further down the hall, into a giant room filled with books and servants and a tailor, fussing over some clothes. A man stands in the corner, and when he turns to look at you, you stop dead in your tracks.

It’s him. The one you’d seen that night, covered in blood. His eyes widen when he sees you, and all you can do is stare at him like a fool. You don't know how you hadn’t put that together - the mysterious prince, never showing his face, and the stranger in the woods, covered in blood. But then…

The way you’d seen him then is the complete opposite of everything he is now. The opposite of everything in this place, every spotless, perfect little thing that makes you feel so wrong being here. He’d been dirty, clothes simple and torn, hair mussed and covered in leaves. Here, he’s clean, dressed in extravagant clothes, so pristine and put together that not an inch of him looks out of place.

Of course you hadn’t considered it. Just like you, he hadn’t seemed like he belonged here. But you were wrong. He fits in the same as everyone else.

His eyes, as it turns out, are a dark, gleaming red.

“Astarion,” the queen says, letting go of your arm and stepping away. “I trust you remember your manners?”

His gaze doesn’t leave your face, even for a moment. “But of course,” he says, his tone sultry and smooth. He steps closer, taking your hand in his, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he presses a kiss to the skin. Your stomach flutters at the action even though you should know better.

His touch is ice-cold.

In his eyes, you see exactly what you are: a threat. Maybe he’ll kill you after all. Then again - he can’t. They need you alive. That’s why they’re doing all of this in the first place.

“Prince Astarion,” you greet. That touch has put some danger into you, a spark that won’t settle in your veins. You can’t help yourself, can’t hold your tongue. “It’s nice to see you again,” you find yourself saying. “I hope you’ve recovered from the incident in the gardens?”

For the barest moment, his eyes narrow. But just as quickly as his distaste is there, it’s gone, tucked under a pasted-on smile. “Why yes, I have,” he says, tilting his head. “Healthy and clean as ever.” He takes another step toward you, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he leans in close, so near that you can feel his breath on your cheek.

“Not another word,” he murmurs, his voice dark and low. He smells clean and herbal - you catch notes of bergamot and rosemary, enticing and dizzying. A light hint of something else: wine, perhaps. He’s stepped away before you can fully place it.

“I didn’t realize you’d met,” the queen says, her eyes flickering between you and Astarion.

“It was rather brief,” he answers.

She looks like she’s about to ask something else, but a loud crash from the main hall distracts her. “Shit,” she curses, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’d better go see what that was.” Then she turns her gaze to you, nodding for you to join her. “Come along, now. It’ll be starting soon.”

You look back at Astarion. “Well, then. Goodbye, Your Majesty,” you tell him. “I suppose I’ll see you soon.”

The corner of his mouth flicks into a smile. “That you will,” he replies.

Everything else turns into a blur.

You’re rushed from place to place, forced to recite the stupid vows over and over again until they’re convinced you’ve got them down, preened over and prodded until you’re raw. Your feet start to ache along with your head, and all you can think about is wanting to be home and… well, as much as you hate to admit it, you think about Astarion. He might as well be a plague for how much he’s infected your thoughts.

You think of him, covered in blood, then spotlessly clean. You think of his voice, low in your ear, and his touch, and the smell of him that still lingers somewhere on your skin. Had he planned this, somehow? A ruse to get into your head? No. You’re being ridiculous. He hadn’t known you were the one who’d seen him - of course he hadn’t planned it.

If only it had been anyone else.

“Quick!” someone says. “It’s starting!”

Your heart drops straight down to your stomach as the drone of an organ hits the air. Nearby hands scrabble around for various items, clawing like animals. A stranger grabs your arm and drags you around like a doll, throwing instructions at you.

And just like that, you find yourself in front of the prince again.

This time, instead of a dozen people or so, there are hundreds of people in the room. You needn’t have worried about being here with him. Nothing has ever felt less intimate.

Your vows are rehearsed and devoid of any emotion, even though you really are trying. His are more convincing, perhaps, but they’re coached all the same. Still, when he takes your hand and slides on the ring, your stomach flutters. You slide his ring on with shaking fingers and just like that - you’re married.

“You may kiss,” the priest says, and your soul instantly exits your body. Gods, this can’t be real. None of this.

But it is. Astarion leans in, his hand settling on your cheek, and kisses you.

It’s clearly meant to be a quick, chaste kiss, but his lips are soft, and he smells so very nice, and the chill of his touch on your cheek is both soothing and strangely intoxicating. It’s as instinctive as breathing when the kiss deepens, when you find your fingers fisted into his shirt and his hand curls a little tighter around your jaw.

That is to say, the kiss is neither quick nor chaste, and when you pull away, there’s no small amount of cheering from the crowd. You want to melt into the floor.

When you finally muster up the ability to look at him again, Astarion tilts his head and raises his brows - a question you don’t at all want to decipher. You simply shake your head in response.

He loops his arm through yours, takes you down into the crowds, and escorts you through the room, effortlessly witty, devilishly charming. You don’t know how he does it. When people start talking to you, you can hardly get the words out of your mouth. You’re still half in shock, and Astarion’s presence isn’t helping.

The smell of him you couldn’t place earlier reveals itself to be brandy.

How incredibly pretentious.

After what seems like hours of forced conversation, Astarion leads you over to the tables of food and drink, placing a glass of wine in your hand that you gratefully start to gulp down.

He sips at his wine, pasting on a smile when people wave at him, then turns his gaze to you. “You know, darling,” he murmurs, quirking a brow, “it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort.”

You grip your wine tighter, shooting him a scowl. “I am making an effort,” you hiss.

He gives you another one of his false smiles. “As passionate as that kiss was, I’m afraid that doesn’t count.”

Shutting your eyes, you take in a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant. Not all of us are good at this like you are. Talking to people.”

“Well, my sweet,” he replies tightly, and for the first time, you can hear frustration lining his words. “I appreciate the compliment, but we still need to convince everyone here that we are madly in love. And that takes more than a kiss.” He takes the glass from your hands - much to your dismay - and places it on a servant’s tray, interlocking his arm with yours again. “So try a bit harder, won’t you?”

Gods, you can’t stand him.

When you go back to speaking, you try your best to be charismatic - but only because you can feel Erelin’s eyes on you, and you don’t dare upset her. Not that your best efforts make you succeed, unfortunately. Astarion has to swoop in several times to save you from the awkward turn of things.

When you finally get another moment to breathe, he guides you to a silent corner, puts an arm around you, and leans in close. “For the love of the gods,” he says. “You’re driving us both into the dirt with your horrid conversational skills.” He inhales deeply and sighs, collecting himself for a moment. “How about this - I will take on the heavier conversations, and you can just… pay compliments.”

“Pay compliments?” you ask incredulously, taking care not to be too loud. “How in the hells am I supposed to do that? I don’t know any of these people!”

“Oh, it’s easy,” he says, waving his free hand dismissively. “Tell the women you like the dress they’re wearing, or their necklace, or… I don’t know - their perfume. They’ll go on about it for ages, and you won’t have to do anything but smile and nod.”

This sounds much too easy to be true. “You’re sure that it’ll work?”

“Trust me,” he replies. “The more we keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, the better off we’ll be.”

Anger flares in your chest at his words, red-hot. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?” you ask.

“That I am,” he says, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

Anywhere else, you’d have elbowed him in the stomach. Hard. Unfortunately, you’re in front of hundreds of people, and it would lead to a large number of very awkward conversations. So, instead, you paste on a smile and think of home.

You aren’t in a palace. You’re in your tavern, talking to customers. This is easy, and you definitely don’t hate it. At all.

When the next couple approaches you, Astarion takes the lead, and you smile wordlessly and nod. When a null in the conversation arrives, you tell the woman you like her dress. Which, luckily, you do. It’s masterfully made, gold embroidery along a shimmering turquoise fabric.

Her face lights up. “Isn’t it just gorgeous?” she asks. “I searched for days when I heard about the wedding. Only the best for me, I always say. Anyway, there was this girl who ran a shop I went to - Martha, her name was - and she told me she had just the thing. And I tried it on, and it was perfect, only, well… it didn’t quite fit. But I knew I’d never want anything else now that I’d seen it, and I thought to myself, oh gods, I can’t turn up like this to the wedding! So I told my mum about it, and she said, ‘Don’t you worry! I’ll take care of it!’ And then, when I went to get it, clumsy me, I spilled half a glass of wine on it! I was just thinking it was lost forever when my neighbor came, and…”

And… what her neighbor did, you’ll never know. It’s completely lost to you, because when you look over to Astarion, he looks ridiculously smug. You can practically hear his voice in your head, saying ‘I told you so.’ You resist the urge to elbow him once again and turn your attention back to the girl, who is just now finishing her story.

“...and then, we arrived here, and saw you! And the wedding! My gods, what a sight. You two really do suit each other, you know. But Thom and I really should be going. There’s a lot of people for you to meet, and we wouldn’t want to keep you from tonight, if you know what I mean.”

She winks at you, and your cheeks go as hot as Avernus.

“Well,” Astarion says quickly, “thank you both for coming!”

“Oh, of course,” she replies. “Enjoy yourselves, you two!” She gives a sly grin and then she’s off, leaving you feeling like you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.

Tonight. How could you forget?

It isn’t that you hadn’t thought about the fact that sex would be expected of you - it’s just that… well, it’d seemed so far away before. Back when you’d been thinking about it, you hadn’t known who it would be with, and it had all seemed like it was going to be a dream. Something that would never actually happen.

But here you are.

You can’t say Astarion isn’t handsome, because he very much is. You can’t say you aren’t terribly attracted to him, because, infuriatingly, you are - no matter how much you hate the fact. But whether or not you’re comfortable with him touching you that way is a completely different matter, and, honestly? You have absolutely no clue how you’re going to tell him that you’ve never been with anyone. Or how he’ll handle it.

Gods help you.

“You see?” Astarion tells you, slowly walking you over to the next group. “I told you it would work. Just keep that up, and all of this will soon be over.”

And over it soon is, much quicker than you’d like. You’d stay out chatting all night if you could avoid what comes next, but there aren’t many others to greet, and eventually there’s no one left to talk to. There’s hardly any food remaining either, which makes you want to cry. You’re starving. Your feet hurt. You want to crawl into bed and sleep for an eternity.

Astarion, as if he can read your mind, finally leads you out of the room and heads straight to the kitchens, releasing your arm when you arrive. “Here we are,” he says. “We wouldn’t want you going to bed hungry, now would we?”

You try not to think about the implications of that statement as you eat. You try not to think about the way he leans against the wall next to you, seemingly not interested in the food. In fact, you try not to think about anything at all.

It doesn’t work.

The food is a welcome distraction, at least. That’s one good thing about this place. The gardens are nice, the beds are soft, and the food is delicious. You never have to go to sleep without eating, which is a new feeling. You just wish it didn’t all come with a cost.

When you’re finished up, Astarion raises a brow at you and straightens up. “Well,” he says, “we’d better go find my mother.”

Erelin looks exhausted after the celebrations. She doesn’t bother with any formalities, just nods for you to follow.

“I’ll show you to your new room,” she sighs. “Don’t forget - tomorrow, the two of you are off for the honeymoon. I’m trusting you both to keep up appearances, yes?” She gives you a pointed look.

“Right,” you reply.

She sighs again. “This way.”

She leads you back into the east wing, this time to a large room around the corner - one you haven’t seen before. It’s gigantic. You’d thought your bed was huge when you arrived, but this? It practically takes up half the room. Bookshelves line the walls, the windows glisten in the moonlight, and there’s a large vanity in the corner, presumably for you.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Erelin says, leaning against the doorway. “Just remember: you’ve done a great service for this kingdom.”

The door closes, and for the first time today, you and Astarion are completely alone. There are no servants, no guards posted along the walls, no crowds of adoring citizens. Just you, and him. And you have no idea what comes next.

In truth, all you want to do is to jump into the huge, fluffy-looking bed and sleep. But, of course, it isn’t that simple. For one, your clothes are intricately laced. There’s a privacy curtain in the corner, but you can’t remove the lacing by yourself. Then there’s the matter of what’s expected of you. What you’re dreading. And that’ll have to come before sleep, too.

Astarion isn’t exactly paying attention to you, though. He’s mulling around the room, examining the books, looking over the vanity. You’re relieved, but you know it won’t last. And, honestly? If it comes down to it, you’d rather just get it over with.

“Would you mind giving me a hand with this?” you ask.

He finally looks at you, gaze focusing on the lacing you’re helplessly trying to undo. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says.

By the hells, he’s irritating. Still, he comes over to help you without complaint, deftly pulling apart the lacing until the ribbons finally come free. You’re expecting him to go further - to start undressing you, or touching you, or… anything, but he just steps away.

“There you are,” he says.

Your throat goes thick. “I… Thank you,” you say softly.

He hums in response. “I’d make for a poor husband if I didn’t help undress you, wouldn’t I?”

The word husband sends electricity through your veins. He really is your husband, isn’t he? It feels incredibly strange.

When you turn to scowl at him, Astarion is already gone, returned to his place by the books. You suck in a deep breath to compose yourself, then grab the change of clothes they’ve left for you and slip into it, folding up your old outfit as neatly as you can.

As soon as you take a seat on the bed, your heart starts beating thickly against your ribs. It’s an unsteady pattern, the thump of it. It gets faster when Astarion moves, then goes quiet when he simply grabs his sleep clothes and changes behind the curtain. It drums hard and rough when he emerges, but settles down when he crosses over to his side of the bed and blows out the candle.

The room goes pitch dark.

“You’d better get your rest while you can,” he tells you. “I’m sure they’ll wake us at a horrendous hour tomorrow.”

You stay motionless in the dark for a moment or two before what he’s saying hits you. As if his words have broken a dam inside you, all the tension floods out of your body. You climb into the sheets, weightless in sheer relief, and find the bed incredibly soft. You can hear him tucking himself into the space near you, shifting around to get comfortable, and it’s strangely intimate. Still, with the size of the bed, there’s not much danger of accidentally kicking him in the night.

The room is peaceful and the crickets chirp outside, and it doesn’t take long before your eyelids are closing and the pull of sleep comes. Just as you’re drifting off, you realize one thing:

You’d forgotten to ask him about the blood.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #baldurs gate 3 x reader #mywriting

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count-lucio · 6 months

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lucio headcanons because i can't help myself. just a warning that these are rather canon divergent, so keep that in mind while reading! anyway, with no further ado-

my objectively correct lucio 'headcanons' (i am normal)

- he has chronic nerve pain from the constant pain + stress his body was under while he had the plague - even after he comes back. he walks with a cane most days, and claims it's for 'fashion' (it very clearly isn't)

- the whole "missing an entire arm" business is a MUCH bigger deal than the way the game shows it- it's a genuine disability, not just a fun character trait. i'm begging you all to consider lucio needing (and wanting) to spend time with his prosthetic off. lucio phantom limb syndrome and phantom pains. lucio struggling to do things that require both hands on occasion and having to relearn everything after getting his prosthetic. lucio being too rough/too strong/etc with his left arm because he can't feel what he's doing. as much as he loves the gold he can't help but feel terribly insecure and incapable because of it sometimes.

- lucio is not even a tenth as stupid as the writers make him out to be for funny haha villain points. he's actually incredibly intelligent and a big fan of studying + reading "just because." he's very literate and articulate, just overexcitable (and maybe slightly over-emotional) and doesn't always express his intelligence in the best way (or stop and think before doing things). he's also fairly talented, and rather proficient in writing and playing piano - the grand piano in the foyer belongs to both him and nadia!!

- same thing goes for what an incompetent leader he's portrayed to be in the game... it's absolutely nonsensical that he alone was in charge of vesuvia for multiple years and that entire time knew nothing and learned nothing about being an effective ruler. perhaps he's not the most responsible leader at all moments and maaaybe he can be a bit. harsh. but i can't see military-tactical, hand-selected-to-rule-vesuvia-lucio being an INCOMPETENT leader.

- also, the previous count, count spada, took lucio in and taught him everything he knew - the game hardly touches on this and it's an absolute crime because i think the two of them had such a close (dare i say father-son) relationship and spada effectively took lucio under his wing and gave him the necessary training to be an effective leader before naming him his heir. the two of them were very... my parents hate me and i don't know what parental love feels like x i never married or had children and i regret it immensely, yknow ?

- his relationship with morga is much more strained than what's portrayed in canon - both her and his father were rather abusive throughout his childhood and he hides in the palace every time she visits vesuvia and makes nadia deal with her for him (i use 'makes' loosely - nadia would do it even if lucio didn't ask. she's not very fond of morga either and is sympathetic to lucio's fear of her).

- speaking of nadia, the two of them really don't hate eachother all that much. their relationship is much more complicated than what's shown in the game (everyone's is, really, it's all a lot more blurry and queerplatonic than what was written to make it work as a romance game) and while they most definitely butt heads quite often, she by no means hates him and they do, actually, get along a fair amount of the time. they have quite a bit in common and work well together. most of the time.

- contrary to popular belief, mercedes and melchior are not unruly and untrained- they're both trained impeccably, just in lucio's native language, making him the only person capable of controlling them. however when it is him in charge, the three of them are a force to be reckoned with (especially when out hunting) and mercedes and melchior move flawlessly alongside him, nearly predicting what he wants without him even having to speak it aloud. they're impeccably behaved- just for him and him alone.

- on the topic of languages- lucio was raised speaking something different than what is spoken throughout the game. there is no direct real-world equivalent but it's... scandinavian in nature. he has the faintest hint of an accent (and no, it isn't a jersey accent) but he's been speaking other languages for so long it's not quite as noticeable as it was during his mercenary days - although it is quite a bit more noticeable when he's drunk, and he's very prone to cursing in his native language.

#the arcana #the arcana game #count lucio #the arcana lucio #these are all objectively correct because i said so #nobody understands lucio the way i do.

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bellewintersroe · 8 months

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Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter! Part 4 here’s the link to part 3. Who’s ready for some drama? 😏

In between the two weeks between Italy and Singapore something is exposed causing social media to have a meltdown. Some how, poor Leni Horner is dragged into the crossfire…

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone

Kelly Piquet spotted with same mystery man back in May 2022 - affair EXPOSED almost a year on?!

Is it over for Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet? - user: if Kelly has cheated on Max then she’s truly a piece of shit, poor Maxy:( - user: fuck Kelly Piquet always knew she was trash - user: Max can do better anyway and get away from that racist family Kelly Piquet was spotted snogging mystery man in a May 2022, but how are the pictures only just being revealed now? Nobody’s quite sure, but as of September 9th the pictures have gone viral alongside Kelly seen again with her new beau. Are you just as confused as we are? Kelly was seen only last week supporting world champion boyfriend, Max Verstappen at the Italian Grand Prix. We don’t know what’s going on, but what we can tell you is that Kelly is in big trouble, run for the hills Max! Verstappen and Piquet NO MORE! Max Verstappen takes down the TWO pictures he had posted with Kelly Piquet after cheating scandal goes viral. “Oh my god.” My hand covered my mouth in complete shock. My stomach sunk completely and a sickness took over me. “Poor Max.” My dad sighed. “Poor Max.” Geri agreed. “I never liked her anyway.” Blue, my step sister commented causing a small round of chuckles to make its way through the hotel room. I call it a hotel room but it was more like a fucking hotel floor, Geri and my dad stayed in here with Olivia and Monty whilst Bluebell and I had our own rooms not too far down the hall. Part of me was jealous for my 10 year old sister and 6 year old brother for getting to stay in a literal palace.

“He didn’t seem that into her anyway.” My dad shrugged as I borderline choked on my drink. True. “Still, Christian, that poor boy. And he’s got to race next weekend with this fresh on his mind.” Geri sighed sympathetically.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay. We’ll make sure he is.” My dad nodded. “Poor guy.” He added on as I continued scrolling further down Twitter. What I didn’t expect was to see a picture of myself on there. - user: the only girl that can release Max from granny’s claws...

It had thousands of likes and retweets, I cringed, exiting the app, despising that there was a small amount of amusement inside of me. “Too old for him anyway.” I began adding into the family bitch. I got completely carried away, now everybody was feeling the exact same mood towards Kelly, I could let out what previously was jealousy, now, mixed with disgust for her actions.

“Alright, alright girls she is still a human.” My dad warned Blue and I once we’d got a little carried away. We both snickered as I rolled my eyes playfully. “We’re only joking, dad.” I responded before pushing myself up, “I’m gonna go and get a smoothie, does anybody want one?”

When everybody but Olivia declined, I happily took her down to the hotel floor where there was the luxury of having a smoothie bar right on our doorstep. What I was really going down there to do was text Max. A sickness loomed over me when I scrolled over his contact, hovering over the buttons nervously.

“Hurry up!” Olivia begged as I slowly walked forwards into the lift again. “Sorry.” I muttered, typing out quickly.

Leni: I’m so sorry Max

I had no idea what to say, or what else to add onto that. I felt a little awkward and considering the last time we saw each other was so tense, I didn’t even know if he’d want to reply to me. Either way, I wanted him to know I was at least there for him.

The rest of the day I was a nervous wreck, my eyes were glued to my phone, fascinated by the scandal as though I didn’t know any of those people personally. Maybe me and Max should’ve just held hands, that felt all too insignificant and stupid in comparison to the details of Kelly’s affair that emerged online.

A few hours later, I received a text back…

Max: Hey, sorry I haven’t been on my phone today I sat up straighter in my bed seeing it was Max replying.

Max: I’m okay it’s just a shock finding out a year later, but you and I both know more than anybody that I’m gonna be fine after this Responding to that text was a little tricky, I read it a good ten times over, mixed emotions filling me.

Leni: I hope so, just take care of yourself Max Max: I will Leni

Sighing, I swiped back of the text app and returned to twitter, clicking on my notifications. My account was private, but I could still see I had been mentioned, without thinking I clicked on the notification.

Kelly Piquet and Max Verstappen call it quits, but has Max moved on already? Images from a beach in Monaco reveal Max was out for a late night swim, it seems, with Leni Horner, his team principles daughter. Talk about trouble in paradise!

user: smfh they were with a group of friends you absolute rats user: people will post anything for drama these days. user: even if it was just them two I’d be happy lmao is that bad? Leni is the gift that keeps on giving. user: is it just me or is Leni and the other girls not wearing any tops? user: taking pictures of half naked girls on the beach is creepy asf wtf user: if my bf was out skinny dipping with a bitch like Leni Horner I’d have an affair too lol user: good for him. user: Leni’s got her claws in, just like her dad, she gives off stuck up vibes > user : stfu pig ass looking girl, Leni hasn’t even done anything wrong they’re not even together user: they’re literally with a GROUP of friends, leave Leni alone i s2g

“Fuck sake.” I muttered to myself, stomach churning as I swiped off the threat and onto another one. I understood people’s opinions of me were always going to be mixed, especially on Twitter, but for the most part I kept private to avoid this. There was no real pictures of me with my breasts out, only my back turned to the camera which was extremely far away, but still, I felt sick that somebody was following us with a camera. What if there was pictures of us topless? If they were just waiting to release them? I’d be mortified. I laid in bed contemplating that night, I’d talked to a few of my friends who were also there that night, but the one person I wanted to text, I felt like I couldn’t.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x Horner daughter #Horner Daughter #f1 x Horner daughter #F1 fanfic #f1 x you

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homunculus-argument · 1 year

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I'm pretty sure I've made a post about this exact specific thing before, but I'm going to type this out anyway, because I can't get over how Tove Jansson's work depicts masculinity, and the idea of gender in general.

While she was - and still 100% is - absolutely a wlw icon (being the first woman to bring a same-sex date to Finland's annual independence day ball in the Presidental Palace), and her work doesn't focus on men or masculinity, she had no resentment towards the male sex as a whole. In her works, the male characters are mainly amusing creatures, up to their silly masculine antics that men are bound to do just the same as squirrels are bound to build their certain type of nests and migratory birds are bound to fly to the south for winter.

There are characters - whole species, in fact - that more or less represent people trying to perform their respective gender roles, like the Fillyjonk who manages to be a strictly normative Housewife without any mention of her having a husband, and the masculine counterpart of generally male hemulens. While there are both fillyjonks and hemulens that are happy being Traditionally Feminine and Traditionally Masculine, there's one short story of a fillyjonk who doesn't enjoy micro-managing an immaculate household, and another one of a hemulen who doesn't enjoy any traditionally masculine hobbies but tries to arbitrarily pick one anyway, because of societal expectations to have one.

But the thing is, the characters who don't fit into standard strict gender presentations are perfectly comfortable with themselves and neither they nor anyone else really gives a shit. Jansson was born in 1914, and it's remarkable how neutral the characters' depictions are to a modern eye. Being personally finnish and introduced to her works in a language that doesn't have gendered pronouns, I literally did not know what gender a few of the characters were before encountering their english or swedish descriptions with pronouns. And I never wondered whether they're supposed to be male or female. Hell, even the character representing the love of her life is depicted like this, and it never crossed my mind to wonder whether Too-Ticky is male or female. She's just Too-Ticky, who dispels wisdom.

But coming back to masculinity, the way Jansson depicts male characters and The Masculine Urge To Do Shit isn't depicted as either superior nor inferior to her female characters' ways of doing their own thing. Sure, men cause problems on purpose from time to time, but the narrative doesn't depict this as inherently bad any more than it is inherently good. The protagonist Moomintroll is a boy and does his best to perform some ideal of being manly, but it's depicted as a part of him trying to grow up. His father's misadventures in trying to be either a wildhearted Manly Adventurer or a Stable Provider For His Family - and the conflict between these two ideals - aren't depicted as bad things to want, or something he shouldn't want, but just an inherent part of being a man.

The protagonist's girlfriend Snorkmaiden is depicted as vain and frivolous as much as she is kind and loving, but her girlish silliness and genuinely kind heart aren't depicted as being contradictory to each other, it's just who she is as a person. The protagonist's mother, Moominmamma, is the platonic ideal of a loving and patient mother and wife, and The moomins' TvTropes page actually goes as far as describing her as fitting the definition of the platonic ideal of the perfect traditional japanese woman, being gentle, loving and hospitable, but strong and unhesitant to protect her family. She doesn't humour her husband's whims out of some schooled and practiced dedication to the role of feminine submissiveness, she puts up with his stupid shit because she loves him.

Tove Jansson was a splendid woman and her work and art are rightfully one of Finland's proudest gifts to the world, and whether she was gay or bisexual, it clearly shines through her work how as much as she loved women, she didn't dislike men. The Masculine Urge To Do Shit is aknowledged with a jovial shrug: "Yeah, they do that sometimes."

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littledollll · 7 months

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hiiii <3

hope you are well!

i am here to beg for more lucifer x reader smut... would love to see restraints, praise / degradation, possessive lucifer, honestly i love your work so whatever you think is best!

no worries if not!!

~ 🫐

Me and the Devil

Lucifer Morningstar x reader

A/n: i love this fic so much you have no idea, I hope y’all love it too! It was super fun to write. A lot earlier than when I usually post but I forgot to post it yesterday so here we go

This includes a request by: @pllduniverse

Warnings: guided masturbation, a lil possessive Lucifer. A lil aftercare, praise, degradation, sensory deprivation.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Your devil.

See, there’s nowhere the devil goes where you don’t follow. Their loyal advisory and right hand, their most beautiful toy.

It’s common knowledge that you are theirs and theirs alone. That you are to be respected and worshiped as they are in hell. That your very name holds power simply because they say so.

What they don’t know is that The Devil worships you, as you do them.. their pretty thing, to walk along side hand by hand.

Their hands running along your skin, so gently, so passionately. When they finally got to have you at the end of the day, everyday like clockwork, it was like Lucifer needed their hands on you at all times.

You’d wait for them. Maybe in a robe, maybe a tiny silk dress. Sometimes in nothing at all. Today was one of those times. And they looked so delighted that it was.

Lucifer greeted you in a soft tone as their hands immediately began wandering your skin. A kiss placed on your forehead ever so gently. “I heard you were out and about today..” they leave the statement open, leaving room for you to continue off it. But you know they’d interrupt you a moment later anyways, because there was always a question that followed a statement from them.

“I was. You said I couldn’t visit you today, but nothing about wandering the palace…” your voice came out breathy thanks to their ministrations. Their simple touch had always been enough to make you a puddle. You can’t remember if they had trained you that way or you were simply that weak to them.

“Hm. And did you happen to run into anyone?” You almost rolled your eyes as they asked questions they obviously already had the answer to. But that would gain you a harsher punishment that already awaits you only because they’re in the mood for it. It’s no matter, since you love it all the same. “I did. I spoke with Azazel for only a moment…”

Another hum, but they said nothing more about it. That was all you needed to hear anyways.

“I want something new from you… I’d like to watch you, my sweet. I want you to listen to me very closely, and you will obey my every command.” Lucifer’s eyes followed the trail of their hands, caressing your arms, your chest… slowly trailing down your torso and admiring your soft stomach.

“And if you do well, you’ll get a reward of your choosing. How does that sound, my darling?” Their voice was smooth enough to lull you to your knees. They didn’t need to ask twice.

Their eyes trailed slowly back up, admitting every inch and curve as they did before they met your eyes once again. Since you took so long to answer. “So lost in your own little mind…”

You nodded hopelessly, quick to be verbal with your answer. “Yes master.. I’ll be good, I’ll listen closely and follow your commands.” Lucifer hummed, seemingly pleased with your answer, and placed a soft kiss to your cheek. You’d greedily take any chance possible to satisfy your devil, to be why they walk around so proudly.

“Sit on the bed for me, against the headboard, legs spread.”

They sat at the end of the bed as you quickly scattered to obey, earning a nod from them in approval. Even the most minimal sense of praise sent a sensation of fluttering between your thighs.

“Be gentle with my toy, hm? Play with yourself a little, enjoy it. But be nice and slow.. you know I’m the only one who knows how to play with my precious toy correctly.” As your hands so slowly trailed your own body, similarly to how they did, they leaned back and watched.

They watched you caress every inch of skin, down your chest all the way to your plush thighs before they spoke again. “Good.. now you’re going to close those pretty eyes, let your head fall back and just listen to me, yes?”

And soon after your reply back, they began. “You’re free to set the pace you’d like now, but let’s build up first. Nothing too quick for my toy.”

“I want you to imagine how my mouth feels all over your skin.” You swore you could feel it. Lucifer’s soft lips pressing kisses to every inch of your body, starting at your neck, slowly trailing down your chest.. their mouth wrapping around your hardened and sensitive nipples. Taking their time to worship each, leaving them both rosy and unbelievably sensitive. They’d blow cold air lightly on each, making you whine and moan.

Lucifer watched as your hands lingered much longer now on your chest, they knew exactly what was going on in your mind. They kept quiet, letting your mind wander.

Trailing lower, they would bite and suck red and purple little marks all over your stomach, telling you how soft and perfect it is, saying how much they love it… “What about my tongue, pet? Tell me how you remember it feels on you. Feel it now.”

You couldn’t help but moan as the image and feeling invaded your mind. How was it that with a simple command they could control every feeling in your body? “I-it’s- warm, wet. So good..”

Lower and lower your hands trailed down, following their own pattern, you traced featherlight touches over your thighs, so slowly moving higher and higher up. You whined. Staying true to the image in your mind so much so that it hurt to tease yourself when you so desperately just wanted to make yourself cum.

“Good little pet.. enjoy every second of it. Just like I do.” Your heart immediately raced when you heard a slight shuffling of clothes, resisting the urge to open your eyes. “You’re soaked..” their tone was clearly amused about the effect they had on you.

All your questions were immediately answered as you heard their voice significantly closer, yet lower. “Oh don’t let me distract you, pet. You’re so close to getting what you want.” A whimper slipped past your lips as you finally moved one of your hands to your aching clit.

Every muscle on your body immediately tensing at the sensation being elevated by the sensory deprivation as you kept your eyes screwed shut.

“Please..” you helplessly moaned out, not once daring to stop but pleading for more. You felt surrounded as Lucifer crawled over you, sitting close enough for your skin to be barely touching. Their thighs spreading your own apart and forcing them there. “You want me to touch you, pet? Is that what you need?”

“Yes yes yes, please- my devil my master, please.” Squirming under them as their piercing gaze studied you. Enjoying every moment of your on-going torture.

“No.. I don’t think I will. Because I think it’s important to remind you that nobody else could ever make you feel like this, pet. Nobody could get you this desperate and dumb on just words, on just their presence. Nobody but me. And yet- you took a moment to speak with Azazel… I wonder why that is.” Lucifer knew it was nothing, they were very aware. You were loyal, and so dedicated to them. They had no reason to doubt you or question your motives, and they didn’t. They just liked to play with it.

A loud moan interrupted their little moment of faux anger, followed by your pitiful whimpers and whines as you grew closer and closer to the edge. A few quiet pleas escaped your lips again, breathy and barely loud enough to stand out against the sound of your whimpers.

Lucifer would tease you. And so you did. Lucifer would edge you, and so you did.

Your bucking hips almost made them feel pity, but the sight was too good to interrupt. You squirmed, trying so hard to squeeze your thighs together even when you knew Lucifer sitting between them wouldn’t allow it.

And then you let go. Opposed to loud screaming moans, your breath got stuck in your throat. You squirmed and shivered until your body went limp from exhaustion and the only sounds in the room were now your whimpers and panting.

“See? You didn’t even need my help..” Lucifer was quick to murmur with a little chuckle, brushing off the hair away from your face and gently caressing your cheek as you took your time to calm down.

They took your hand, cleaning it off with their mouth as they licked each messy finger clean and hummed at the taste. After that they placed a kiss on the back of each before putting them down to once again hold your precious face.

You slowly opened your half-lidded eyes only to find them already looking at you with so much softness and love. “There you are.. are you all alright, my angel?” Lucifer said softly, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, smiling once you nodded.

“Perhaps we should get you cleaned up and ready for bed, yes? Your reward can wait a few hours…” you couldn’t agree more, wanting nothing other than to close your eyes and let your mind restfully drift away for the night as you lay against your devil’s chest.

#🫐 anon #the sandman lucifer smut #sandman lucifer x reader #the sandman #lucifer sandman #lucifer morningstar the sandman #gwendoline christie #sandman lucifer #lucifer sandman smut #sandman lucifer smut #sandman lucifer morningstar x reader

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xiulric · 2 months

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On SV fics and jin lan city AU fanfics

Jin lan city is one of my fave arcs in SV bc we have all this wonderful tension coming to a head. Sqq's devotion to binghe turned over its head, into fear and animosity

meanwhile binghe laboriously built himself up, meticulously planned and manipulated his way into a favorable political position both in the demon realm and as a huan hua disciple

despite his anger and resentment. he thinks this will prove to shizun that hes still valuable. bc xin mo digs its claws into binghes insecurity: sqq either rejected him bc of his demon heritage, or worse. sqq found him unlovable, the person who knew him best, saw the core of who he is, found him insufficient

hell. maybe this was a long con years in the making, sqq hated him since they met, and then only pretended to be nice to binghe so that sqqs betrayal would hurt more

and all this planning bites him in the ass!!!! it makes shizun resent him more!!!

some fics make the mistake of dissolving this tension too early. for the sake of speeding up the bingqiu cuddles

and like i think thats a waste bc those same misunderstandings, when resolved with good storytelling, lead to a satisfying conclusion that makes bingqiu feel deeper, with a stronger connection !

so anyway theres so many ways the jin lan meeting post abyss couldve gone. RIPE with potential for a variety of fun fanfic scenarios!!!

ive seen truth serum jin lan city aus, or obedience spell aus. even ones where sqq forces a soul connection so binghe. cant kill him without hurting himself

point is!! SO MANY OPTIONS

but my absolute favourite jin lan city aus, the most ironic, juicy, and hardest to execute imo :

aus where Binghe realizes something baffling about his shizun. the key to successfully manipulating SQQ and resolving this post-abyss misunderstanding.

its not through demonic power, prestige, manners or huan hua palace.

it's by binghe showing the most unlovable, weak side of himself. that makes sqq crumble like wet tissue paper IN AN INSTANT

if binghe in jin lan city cries, if hes hurt or sick, sqq will be there to help him immediately despite sqqs fear of binghe

sqq is so so weak to white lotus binghe that he would risk getting mauled by the demon emperor. bc he cant hold back his own need to coddle binghe

a sub point to this same weakness sqq has; jin lan aus where binghe pushes the limit of "how far will shizun go to pamper me?"

that one is tricky bc. it can sound OOC if written without believable buildup

disciple white lotus binghe is aware that sqq favours him; sqq vastly prefers binghes cooking over any other food. sqq got without-a-cure for binghes sake. binghe is head disciple.

but its not always that binghe realizes how FAR sqq would go to coddle binghe, and worse, sqq justifies it and lies to himself about it. "its only what binghe is owed! hes the protagonist! this world was built for him!"

so in some delicious jin lan aus, binghe goes; ok ok. shizun hates me now. but when i hug him.. he doesnt push me away? when i kill all the sowers, and jin lan proclaims me a hero, and i ask for shizuns hand in marriage... he doesnt DENY it to me??

shizun doesnt look happy. but he goes along willingly!?!?!? WHAT IS GOING ON

basically it leads to more misunderstandings before a resolution BUT ITS SO JUICY!? SQQ's love for binghe vs his lying to himself about loving binghe! a truth he can hardly admit in the privacy of his mind !

and binghes confusion blending with his delight and the stinging betrayal of 3 years ago!!! CHEFS KISS

example below of this dynamic; from Sadie Hawkins fic by X_los

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #mxtx #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #luo binghe #bingqiu #meta #scum villain meta #scum villain #sv meta #svsss meta

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dailydragon08 · 11 months

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Luke Skywalker who was bullied and called “wormie” and had a tense relationship with Owen and was lonely af, but who worked his ass off on the farm and was nice to people and dropped everything to help a stranger in need simply because they were in need anyway.

Luke Skywalker who was frustrated and impatient and chomping at the bit, but who took deep breaths and heard his mentors out but still did what felt right to him and went to save his friends even though he knew he was putting himself in danger by leaving before his training was done because they were his friends and he had to help them, there was no other option in his mind.

Luke Skywalker who lost the shining knight image of his father, his hand, his trust in his mentors, and his sense of identity all in one blow, but still went to the window to comfort Leia as Lando and Chewie left to look for Han anyway.

Luke Skywalker who had clearly learned a lot and become very powerful all on his own and blew up a crime lord’s palace to save his friends, but who went back to Dagobah to complete his training anyway because he thought “there’s always room to improve.”

Luke Skywalker who laughs at tiny teddy bears trying to arrest him and just hands his lightsaber over to them and is just chilling, absorbing everything while he’s tied up and pulling some harmless Force tricks while still perpetuating the idea that C-3PO is a god cuz it’s just too damn funny and he won’t be the one to shatter the Ewoks sense of how the galaxy works.

Luke Skywalker who comforts his sister even as he goes off to fight Vader and maybe die in the attempt (remember his line to the emperor “soon I’ll be dead and you with me,” man really thought he wouldn’t be coming back).

Luke Skywalker who was willing to cart Vader off with him to likely some remote corner of the galaxy and make up a plan as he went cuz he still loves his father and always believed he would come back to the light and just wanted a chance to be a real family.

Luke Skywalker who trusts in not only the Force, but connection, attachments, and himself.

This is my Luke Skywalker.

#luke skywalker #star wars #my thoughts #my luke thoughts #star wars discussion #anti disney #anti disney star wars #anti star wars sequels

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i-only-ever-asked-questions · 10 months

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I've been working on this post for a while and I am running out of time! So here goes: Today I want to talk about the dark side of Good Omens. This is a long post, sorry about that, but there are so many twists and turns. We all love GO, the romance, the banter, the comedy, the humanity of it. But it does a have a subtle dark side underneath which is usually overlooked. It has to do with the race to stop Armageddon, how their different views brought them to the bandstand conflict, and how Aziraphale ultimately came around at the airbase. It was a rocky road. In the book, when Crowley receives the basket and is on his way to the hospital, he has a thought. We didn't see this in the show so it may or may not have happened there, but it happened in the book. Ultimately Crowley didn't go through with it, but it did occur to him.

So Crowley kept driving and eventually came up with Plan A: Raise the antichrist together behind Hell's back. Surely as a normal, balanced human being the kid wouldn't want to destroy the world, easy and straightforward, right?

Aziraphale's orders are to keep Crowley under observation and so he does. But he also tells Heaven he will "influence the child towards the light". Heaven humors him as long as he keeps doing his job: monitoring Crowley and the antichrist.

However as the scheduled time gets closer, Crowley realizes that the only way to be 100% certain there won't be an Armageddon is to not have an antichrist at all (like 11 years ago). And he brings up Plan B: Kill the child, for the first time.

Aziraphale didn't like the idea of killing Warlock outright if there were other options. So he came up with Plan C: stop the dog. That... was very short-lived.

And here is where things will start to get murky. While both know they need to find the antichrist, they don't really know what to do afterwards.

Crowley probably thinks that whatever they do, they'll do it together, that Aziraphale will be on board with it. Aziraphale on the other hand still thinks Heaven are "the good guys" so he separately comes up with Plan D: Tell Heaven where the antichrist is. If Heaven gets rid of Adam, all will be fine. Heaven knows better and thy are going to win anyway. At this point, Aziraphale is fine with eliminating the antichrist, he just doesn't like the idea of doing the deed himself, let Heaven handle it. So he lies to Crowley about finding Adam.

And he lies again about having found the antichrist when they meet at the bandstand. Aziraphale has made his mind. As they talk, Aziraphale's reasons that if Crowley were to kill the child instead of Heaven, it would be a better solution for everybody. Again, he is fine with eliminating the antichrist, but not with doing it himself, Crowley can do it. Should this be a very short lived Plan E?

Crowley on the other hand, just like at the Crystal Palace, insists that Aziraphale do the deed. Aziraphale would not have it. Either Crowley does it or Heaven does it, but not him.

The book is more clear about how Crowley is afraid of Hell's punishment if he fails. In Crowley's mind, if Aziraphale kills the child it would be ok, Aziraphale gets brownie points in Heaven and Crowley gets punished for maybe only being incompetent.

But if Crowley kills the child, he would be in really BIG trouble, punished as the worst traitor there could be. (this quote comes from a later passage but it is the sentiment that counts)

Both agree that the antichrist needs to go. But Crowley won't kill the child and Aziraphale won't kill the child either. So they come to an impasse.

Aziraphale proceeds with his Plan D anyway and his conversation with the Metatron goes as pear-shaped as could. And this is where he decides to talk to Crowley and reconcile. That didn't work out either.

After a short trip to Heaven, Aziraphale finds himself on Earth and ready to follow Crowley's Plan B. However he still doesn't want to do it himself, so this time he is recruiting humans to do it (Plan F!). Humans are good at killing other humans, they have been doing it for a long time ;)

Said humans are on board with it until they realize that the antichrist is an 11-year old boy and Plan F goes up in smoke.

Crowley is not giving up though and Aziraphale, fully committed now that every other option failed, follows Crowley's lead. Third time is the charm, right? Aziraphale doesn't hesitate anymore and shoots when Crowley urges him to do so.

And, as we know Madame Tracy saves the day and Adam (although for all we know Adam is bulletproof at this point ;) ) So yeah, interwoven with all the fun there are these glimpses of hidden darkness, our demon who keeps pushing Aziraphale to kill the antichrist for lack of a better plan and our angel who doesn't want to taint his hands and keeps looking for other people to do the deed instead. There is certainly a lot more nuance to this, Crowley and Aziraphale are not selfish, detached entities who end human lives willy-nilly, not at all. But in a desperate hour, they will, if that means the survival of the whole world. As Crowley put it back at the Crystal Palace "one life against the universe". He was ready to sacrifice that life from the very beginning. Aziraphale meandered his way to get there, but at the end he got there and shot at the child.

It is certainly very fortunate that they were not very competent at this. It would have been awful killing Warlock and then realizing he wasn't the antichrist after all. And Adam is a nice and smart kid who found his very own human solution to the problem without intentionally shedding any blood. They both deserve to live, and our walking disasters deserve to get their world and their humans without having to pay for it with the life of a child.

#good omens #stop the apocalypse #crowley #aziraphale #heaven are not the good guys #kill the antichrist #adam does not deserve to be killed #neither does warlock

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aj1dordinary · 6 months

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y'know, im something of a roman empire myself actually

platonic!Johnny Cage x platonic!gen-z!reader; neutral!Kenshi Takahashi x platonic!reader; platonic!Raiden x platonic!reader; platonic!Kung Lao x platonic!reader; platonic!Lui Kang x platonic!reader

no beta reading we die like men. here’s another chapter even though i have like 3 papers due within 2 weeks.

after stepping out of the portal, your eyes catch first the palace setting. how its stone and marble material reached towards the sky and provided a sturdy foundation for your feet. there was clear signs of royalty with the hues of gold and purple that mingled with the color of natural scenery.

however, the view was interrupted when the armed guard replaced it. stern and well-postured, you straightened your back to replicate the menacing look. liu kang had educated you well enough before leaving so you could differentiate the two princesses among them.

johnny whistled, prepared to ruin the scenic moment immediately with that mouth of his. you elbowed him again, “not now” you mouthed.

“you should listen to your assistant more,” raiden said as Earthrealm’s chosen defender. “i’m sure she goes through a lot to keep you out of trouble.”

liu kang hummed in agreement before bowing before the princesses, addressing them as mileena and kitara. the rest of the group’s actions followed after the god.

as he went around, he introduced everyone. well, everyone except you, you stood farther back than the hand-selected fighters. but, your presence did not go unnoticed.

“and the girl?” mileena raised her eyebrow.

liu kang pursed his lips again before speaking, “a spectator, at the request of johnny cage. i assure you that she is of no threat.”

you inch back a little farther behind the pack as the attention seemed to have shifted to your meek form. thankfully, conversation was more focused on the battles that were to take place.

“i hope you are prepared raiden. our champions are determined to win.” kitana smirked.

“myself included, it’s been too long since Outworld has hailed victory.” mileena held her head high in confidence.

before you could also disgrace the group with your quick retorts, the conversation was interrupted by a guard, but clearly one of a higher ranker or importance. tanya, the future empress called her, declared that you all head to the capitol and without further hesitation, you all moving once more.

you made sure to be out of sight, realizing now just how out of place you really were in terms of stature and build. to keep your mind off things, you took out your phone and quietly did the job you were hired to do: vlog.

so as you guys paraded through the city, you whispered amongst the group and took shots of the Outworldian city.

“so raiden give us a little pre-game interview. how do you feel as earth realm’s champion fighter? surely, everyone is gonna want a piece of you.” you shoved the lens into his face again in true paparazzi fashion.

he flushed, you could tell the attention that he has been getting as of late was new to him, but he entertained your antics anyway.

“definitely a little nervous, but also confident. i won against three other of lui kang’s handpicked fighters so i know i have the ability.” he rubbed the back of his neck as confetti had begun raining down.

“a great insight to have raiden. i implore you to keep that same energy throughout our time here.” liu kang spoke like a proud father.

“and you kangaroo?” your low-attention span now shifted.

the nickname always seemed to catch him off guard, so with a recollected sigh, he spoke, “pleased.”

“kung fu! ken-doll! get in on all the fun! we’re being celebrated right now.” you yelled, eager to ramp up the energy within the group.

“we are being celebrated, you just happen to be here also.” kenshi brushed past you, unwilling to give you anything else. ouch. but johnny was quick to replace him, shaking his fist like an angry old man at kenshi’s insult.

kung lao and johnny matched you energy-wise as you all declared that when raiden wins the tournament, you’d order mountains of food and create content to entertain the fans back in Earthrealm.

once a little more composed, you took notice of all the different kinds of beings there were in outworld, you also took in how it felt to be celebrated. mileena seeing the curiosity in your eyes began recanting to raiden about the history of Outworld. she even mentioned about her late father.

you cut liu kang off in the middle of him performing his diplomatic duty, “i’m sorry for your loss. must be difficult.” you provide a flat smile.

“i appreciate your gesture, but you have nothing to be sorry for. not as much as this one here…” she mutters. she stops the carriage to get off and approach a figure in the distance. in the mean time, liu kang is not ignorant to the interaction between you and mileena.

“you have lost your father too.” he spoke, his tone sympathetic. you look down, the camera no longer recording. there was no escaping the conversation with the all-knowing god.

“my mother and sister too. a home-invasion gone wrong. i wasn’t home. i never was, always afraid of missing out. so i blew them off that night when they wanted to watch a movie in favor of partying with friends.”

silence hovered over the group despite the festival music still playing in the background. you made quick work of wiping your tears before apologizing again, scared of dampening the mood. johnny, who knew of your story when he hired you, just provided a comforting arm around your shoulder.

“so your humor is a cover-up, huh?” kenshi muttered.

“really, you want to do this right now?” johnny stood from his position in the carriage. kenshi also stood, making the carriage a little wobbly.

kung lao and raiden replaced his spot on either side, providing you with shoulders to lean on.

“now, now. we will not make a display of ignorance.” liu kang intercepted immediately, a stern tone taking over. “kenshi, now is not the time or place. johnny, not every altercation needs verbal and physical offense. i order you both to sit back down and let us carry on to Empress Sindel’s palace.”

and so it was. mileena returned and the parade carried on as she muttered “li mei and those damned tarkatans” under her breath.

you collected yourself at the palace and stood amongst the group discussing tactics for the fights raiden would be enduring. suddenly, silence took over before johnny pushed you behind him, “red alert. stock villain incoming.”

he spoke in reference to what you would classify as demon split the crowd. his tall stature definitely struck fear deep within you. maybe now would be a good time to start praying. liu kang introduced him as general shao. his goal clear, to antagonize and belittle the group of Earthrealmers that stood before him. the others remained tall before him, but you were kept behind them out of necessary precaution.

the princesses returned and sat on their respective thrones beside Empress Sindel. there was no pause or hesitation for further introduction. she immediately began setting the stage for which raiden would take alongside his enemies.

you begin twirling your hair out of anxiety when his first opponent was introduced. the same li mei that mileena seems to distrust. you found out soon enough in empress sindel’s “motivation” speech.

then the battles commenced. each one menacing than the last. but each time raiden came out victorious. the first part of the tournament was adjourned and true to your goal, you, raiden, kung lao, and johnny made the most of the dinner that was provided. you couldn’t help but feel giddy despite the emotions you let loose earlier. maybe the relationship between Earthrealm and Outworld wasn’t as bad as kangaroo made it seem. you watch as johnny flirted with every woman at the party, as kenshi remained unbothered, and kung lao finish plate after plate. raiden and liu and seemed deep in conversation.

that’s when the feeling returned. the one of doubt that sat deep in your stomach and extended into your throat. everyone here had a place, even in this new world. you begin picking at the remnants of food on your plate.

“i never got your name warrior.”

you look up and notice that it was princess kitana. as instructed by lui kang, you bow before her.

“no need,” she paused. “i just want to know who you are in relation to everyone.” she sat down in the empty chair next to you.

“firstly, i am no warrior, but my name is y/n. this is more of a business trip to me than one of diplomatic relations.”

“hm. a little disappointing. but, lui kang doesn’t bring just anyone to Outworld.” she swirled a glass of exotic wine before sipping.

you chuckle, once again fully aware of how out of place you were. you don’t respond though.

“have you ever fought before?” she raised an eyebrow.

“maybe when i was younger. i took ballet, gymnastics and karate, but i lost all passion for those beginning crafts when my family… i’m sorry.” you used the napkins provided to blot at your eyes.

kitana shared a look of understanding. she even placed a hand on top of yours.

“i think you should get back into it. not only is it an excellent outlet, but,” she extended the ‘u’ for emphasis and dramatization. “i’m surrounded by brutes on a daily bases and would love some feminine company. maybe i can show you something?” she leaned in, eyeing the space around you guys for anyone lurking in your conversation.

and how stupid would you be to deny the princess’ request. with stifled giggles and rushed footsteps, kitana grabbed your hand and rushed off to the palace quarters. sindel watched in amusement, she had the same harmless suspicion as a mother watching her daughter and a friend do some secret activity at a sleepover.

“i won’t go too hard on you, just show you moves you can do when someone invades your space in a manner that is distasteful.”

it only took a couple minutes for liu kang and the rest of the quartet to notice your usual cheerful and sometimes invasive presence was missing. and how lucky, you did not have to witness mileena’s moment of weakness or when general shao insulted your boys or the plans he had that had yet to be unravelled.

when you finally returned to them later that night, you were a little bruised and definitely sore, but you wouldn’t rest until you could show what you learned on a real person, someone like… a drunk johnny cage.

“how did you manage to sneak off with princess kitana?” kenshi quipped, a little dismayed that it was you of all people.

“i didn’t do anything, in fact, it was her who rizzed me up. don’t be jealous ken-doll.” you wiggled your eyebrows to piss him off further.

“well don’t leave anything to the imagination. what happened?” johnny slurred. this time, he was cosigned by a similarly drunk kung lao, leaving a blushing raiden behind.

“yeah? you wanna know?” you egged them on, leading them to their impending doom.

they nodded eagerly. “well come closer, i can’t exactly say this with so many ears leading back to the empress.” you tease.

when they approach and lean down for you to whisper into their ear, you unleashed your attack. you provide a swift uppercut to kung lao’s chin sending him flying back before he composed himself. you then quickly drop down before swinging your leg around to knock johnny off his. kung lao, the ever so competitive, charged back. this time, you used your refreshed gymnastic skills from kitana to avoid his rapid punches.

round off after round off you avoided him until you could feel your exhaustion setting in, while on your hands, you bent your knees and elbows, trying to gain enough energy to push off and drive your legs up. your heels made contact with kung lao’s chin and sent him flying back. he did not get back up, succumbing to the contact and his drunken haze.

after you sent johnny to the ground, he made no attempt to get up, his drunken state rendering him incapacitated.

you gracefully finish the round off and put both your hands in the air as if you as if you had finished an award winning gymnastics routine.

raiden clapped, clearly amused at the current state of his friends. kenshi rolled his eyes, but had a little smirk on his face. “since johnny was so adamant about you capturing everything, you should take a photo of them now.”

“omg ken-doll, that’s the best idea you have had yet!” you squeal and proceed to whip the device out to do so.

“i see that your confidence is back on the mend. i’m happy for you. i am also glad that you are no longer running from conflict.” liu kang chuckled and pat you on the back.

raiden picked up the unconscious kung lao while kenshi attended to johnny. you all then proceeded to walk to the quarters provided to you to settle in and prepare for the next day.

“i knew i had chosen right after all.” liu kang said.

“me? chosen? you flatter me kangaroo.” you smile.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

(The Next Day)

raiden stood before empress sindel, though her daughters were missing from their standard positions. she commemorated him of his past victories and how he only had two opponents who stood before him.

you were back on the sidelines with johnny, phone already recording. you were trying so hard not to yell out “Out-Worldstar”. the jokes just write themselves really.

so imagine your surprise when she announced that kitana was to be his next opponent. slyly, you and johnny slid your phones back into your pockets and just started whistling. all of a sudden interested in the plants and decorations rather than raiders impending doom.

“come on guys, you don’t have any faith in raiden?” kung lao nudged.

“it’s not that,” johnny began. “it’s that he’s definitely going to feel it after,” you finished.

“and i will win.” kitana interjected. she looked over at you, you could tell by the crinkle in her eye, she was smiling, ready to show you what it meant to really be femme fatale.

their quarrel began and liu kang had to even stop himself from giggling as you stared at kitana with a wide mouth and a hint of fear in your eyes. she could definitely hold her own in kombat. she performed aerial flips and even put her magic skills to the test against his lightening. it was miraculous even that their fight looked as if they were floating, feet only touching the ground for a moment before attacking or blocking.

despite her flare and her fans, raiden defeated her in a split second moment of weakness. but it didn’t damper how you felt about the strength she exhibited, if anything, it only fueled the fire in you to get back into your hobbies that you discussed last night. you were determined to actually earn your position within liu kang’s entourage.

she congratulated his victory and with no moment of rest, raiders next opponent was introduced: general shao.

you, johnny, kenshi, and kung lao visibly and audibly gulped. kenshi even tugged at his collar a bit to relieve pressure. it seemed as if the ground shook as he approached the ring. you heard how he made a commotion last night by insulting Earthrealmers and their inherent weakness, so you knew he would show no mercy towards raiden.

you look around at your companions, while lui kang focused intensely on the oncoming battle, everyone else was face deep in a newspaper. this caused you to tilt your head while wearing a monotonous look upon your face.

“ok, i know we are all concerned right now, but maybe the least we can do is cheer him on during his final fight.” neurons began firing as you thought of ways to encourage raiden. then it hit you.

“no.”

“ken-doll come onnnnn. you have to join in or else it won’t be authentic.” you begged, hugging his leg and refusing to get off despite his attempts to kick and remove you.

“i am not doing a pom-pom cheer for a fight.” he grit his teeth.

“come on man, its his last one. we either celebrate now or he dies without ever knowing we were there for him.” johnny wrapped his arm around kung lao and kenshi.

“we can be like the Jackson 5! raiden being michael, obviously” he continued.

“i can hear you guys.” raiden turned, almost embarrassed.

“one time?” kenshi looked down at you, who was still holding on to his leg, returning his stare with puppy dog eyes, your lips wobbling.

you nodded feverishly. he sighed knowing that you have managed to knock his ego down twice now.

“ok.”

you hopped back up excitedly and immediately got your camera ready and positions set.

the kombat was long and brutal, general shao taking every attack raiden gave him and raiden doing the same. though, you do think your plan to increase raiden’s mood distracted the general at some points, allowing raiden to get some solid hits in. you could not lie, raiden’s usual shy demeanor did not match the one before you: a calm, composed, yet deadly storm. his movements also memorized you as his flash of lightning put on a show similar to that of fireworks.

and as general shao fell to the ground, it fell silent even as the ground trembled. you cheered and even entered the ring to give him a hug with the strength of a anaconda, lifting him off the ground some.

“you did it! you singlehandedly saved Earthrealm” you bounced with misplaced excitement.

“and she calls me kangaroo.” liu kang enters as well to also congratulate his champion.

sindel arose to also congratulate him before swiftly disappearing to someplace that would remain unknown to you.

“come. let us bid our hosts farewell and return to Earthrealm.” liu kang looked pleased at the state of his entourage before leading the way.

#johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #lui kang #mk1 2023 #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat #platonic #reader insert #shitpost #x reader #kung lao #raiden #scorpio #kitana #mileena #sindel #bi han sub zero

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airyravenmaid · 20 days

Text

SAGAU: My Style

Back at it again with sharing my personal ideas with the Self-Aware Genshin AU. I don't see myself writing a full-on fanfic about it because I do NOT trust myself with characterizing everybody properly, and some of the ideas I have in mind wouldn't make for a good universal experience for all, if that makes sense. So, instead, I'll just stick to pitching like I'm at a silly ol' business meeting and providing a simply layout. Now, keep in mind, this is going to focus more on my rendition of an Imposter AU specifically, which means I'm also going to do a little nitpicking of some common tropes in it that I find could be done better or even differently. It won't be me saying that anybody who writes them in the traditional sense is bad or doing a bad job, just what I'd do differently. So, without further ado, check out my mish-mushed ideas below the cut:

It all starts with the Creator Themsleves, aka, us. Or, rather, us before we became us. Not making sense? That's fine, but lemme delve into that a little better. Game lore-wise for this AU, there actually was a fully existing, fully breathing Creator that's been around since even before the Archons (but not by too much; Zhongli's still no spring chicken in spite of this). Yes, they did create Teyvat and all that's good in it like the flora, the fauna, and the creatures, and they had a close bond with said Archons not just as people serving, advising, and worshipping their God/ruler, but also in a legitimate friendship (so, no, they're not 100% subservient or gutless ass-kissers-- it's more of an equal dynamic). Maybe one Archon of your choice (within reason) being close enough to the point of being (secret) lovers, if you'd like. Such explains the Archons' deep attachment to the Creator, and their eagerness to see them again after tragedy-- like, say, the Cataclysm that razed Khaenri'ah-- renders them comatose and not to awaken again until present day. Until then, the Creator's body lies safely in sleep like Princess Aurora within their main temple/palace, occasionally visited by their old companions (minus Ei, who's in her hidey-hole until the Inazuma AQ's, but that goes without saying).

But, just before they do wake up, here comes a little (presumably Celestia-sent) POS known as the Imposter, who worms their way into the temple where the Creator lies, steals their garbs and replaces them with normal, less divine attire before sending their body far away apparently never to be seen again and lying on that resting spot acting as the Creator on the verge of waking up. And since no one knows what really happened, it looks like the promised day has come without issues, and the Imposter is welcomed by nearly all back to a throne that never actually belonged to them. As for the actual Creator... they're in good hands, because Teyvat would never mistake another for the All-Parent that breathed life into it and acts to protect their body hidden amidst nature in whatever region they landed in (your choice) until they really do wake up.

And when our in-game body does wake up, our real-life consciousness is transferred into it and overwrites our old, godly memories with our normal ones. Since I can't stand isekais that require us dying an early death IRL (like, at all, actually), we're either magically transported to Teyvat the old-fashioned magic way, or part of our consciousness goes into our in-universe body and leaves our physical forms in reality alone, thereby creating two versions of us going around two separate worlds. For better wording, that is, but that's the gist of it. Either way, we're the real deal Creator, but one without our old memories (apart from short visions we get of our old divine life that come up every now and again) as far as everyone else in Teyvat is concerned. They're not totally wrong, anyway. I was thinking this could be justified to everyone by our "past self" saying pre-slumber that they will reawaken without the knowledge of this world (aka, the Genshin one), but it will still very much be them/us.

By the way, when we stumble into the main town or city of whatever region we wound up in, the locals don't just immediately attack us for looking like the Imposter. While sometimes, I do enjoy kicking back and enjoying pure angst, I otherwise found that aspect of Villain/Imposter!SAGAU to be, comment dit-on... absurd, especially with nobody in Mondstadt (outside of that one nun not buying it and simply scolding him) giving two honks about Venti despite him looking like (being) Barbatos, and nobody in Liyue even noticing the resemblance between Zhongli and Rex Lapis/Morax. And given how much those nations revere their god, the argument of us being a higher deity cannot be made. So, instead, at absolute worst, people are just really unnerved by the uncanny resemblance we have to the Creator, but otherwise don't get alarmed... until the Imposter catches wind of us and changes that. The reason people start attacking us at all is because the Imposter weaves a forewarning of the Creator's antithesis equal to them in power known as the "Destroyer" will descend on Teyvat, attempt to steal the throne using the Creator's face, and do worse to the world than the Abyss Order ever could try to if not stopped. And, this may sound like something they just made up to get us killed, but in a way... it's true, only issue is that the acolytes + citizens have the wrong idea of who's who, of course. Plus, the actual, all-powerful Creator, if pushed too far by say... an incredibly lengthy and traumatic manhunt after being mistaken for the Destroyer, is capable of tearing the world limb from limb, because those who create can as easily destroy, but those who destroy can never create.

Speaking of "all-powerful"... why are we always completely powerless in these SAGAU works apart from crying and/or getting really angry (which ARE realistic and valid reactions to the shit we're going through, but it's not mutually exclusive to getting cool abilities)? Because we're not actually from Teyvat? Even Aether and Lumine have the power to wield the elements despite coming from somewhere else, and for us to not get that same honor is frankly dull as dishwater. That's a lot of missed potential to dip into the fantasy aspect of a fantasy game like Genshin Impact. It's here I'd like to take some inspiration from a show I've enjoyed for years known as none other than "Avatar: The Last Airbender". Not to mention, the term "avatar" generally refers to a "divine incarnation in human form", hello??? Ahem! In other words, instead of being completely incapable of defending ourselves, we-- being the almighty Creator-- are able to wield all seven elements at once, but we have to gradually learn how to effectively use and master them. We do start with one element (any of your choice), then work our way up in order of the loading screen. IE: say your element is Cryo, you'd have to go Geo -> Pyro -> Hydro -> Anemo -> Electro -> Dendro. Such was the same in our past life, but we had the Archons to teach us and help us master those abilities through time.

Which means now, we need other people to help us do it again in our new "incarnation", and that's in the form of 5-star Vision holders since they fit the bill of "master" a bit better, being the rarer, stronger characters and junk. Of course, this is likely with discretion, because some might not be wise to learn from (such as Klee, funny as that'd be). I'm also discounting learning from the Archons because not only has our time with them from the previous life passed, but I don't find it fair to learn from a powerful god of that element, even if we're a god ourselves. It's more balanced learning from someone beneath that level (so, yes, an adeptus would still qualify). Also, important note here: not every single playable character is going to try and kill us for the Creator-Destroyer thing. NPCs are one thing because, let's be real, they're sheep, but it isn't realistic or in-character for everybody playable to want us dead. While a fair chunk would probably be on board for the sake of not letting the world blow to smithereens (and not because, you know, Same Face Syndrome, because that's completely insane), some might not outright believe the alleged prophecy for one reason or another, such as not being fond/trusting enough of the apparent "Creator" to just listen to them right off the bat, or getting to already find out who the real Creator is and knowing we're not the enemy. Whatever the reason is, we're going to have allies, including ones that join us in our quest to defeat the Imposter and take back the throne to restore balance to Teyvat. This can also include those who initially sided with the Imposter, but for one reason or another such as seeing our gold blood, they have a change of heart and tag along for the ride. For us to just go about Teyvat on the lam with nobody having our back is just... depressing, and not even in the fun way, either. I understand this faction of SAGAU tends to be purely angst-based, but come on, it doesn't have to all be a total bummer all the time. There's no rule that says we can't go through the angsty, heartwrenching stuff with traveling companions to call our own there for us through it all.

Now, of course, whoever those traveling companions are is really up to you because not all of us are gonna wanna tag up with and learn from the same bitches as the next guy. So, it's anybody's game with anybody's reasoning and circumstances (such as which region we wake up in, who our first companion(s) would be there, then which region we move onto, and even what element we have to learn next). Also, fitting the max. number of characters you can have on one team, it'd just be four actively traveling alongside us through Teyvat with other allies remaining where they are, whether they helped us master an element or not. But, no matter anybody's personal tastes and choices, I really wish there was more of a thrilling "fantastical group adventure" kind of element to this genre of SAGAU, because the potential is there, just-- seldom reached, from what I've seen, personally. I'd be more than happy adding onto this with anything I might have missed, but that's basically the gist of my view of this AU.

#Genshin Impact #SAGAU #Imposter AU #SAGAU Cult AU #Genshin Impact SAGAU #(Meant to make this post when a certain someone finally came home in Genshin; but that was 4 months ago lmfao)#This is kind of a huge mess but it's open to tweaking and revisiting; if necessary #But I still mean it when I say I wish more works had Creator!Reader have more fun or do cool shit amidst the angst and drama #Adventuring with newfound friends on a quest to reclaim your yoinked throne in a fantasy setting is cool; yo; go nuts with it

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