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#be very afraid by architects
toomanystoryideas · 1 year
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be very afraid by architects <3
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theceaselessidiot · 2 years
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fettery-fetterie · 1 month
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What we were born for
I've been left asking that question with each start
To be in the spotlight, to fight for internal light, to see the sun
To be seen by big white eyes, and to be managed by hands who have no direction nor order
Birth, life. Fall, thread-spin. Rinse repeat
Not like I had any choice in the matter, not like any of us did. And yet...
Ah, I can't help it, to let go of the past...I suppose that will never be my style.
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how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo
synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.
word count; 6.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3
a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity
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you are five years old when you meet the prince.
five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.
the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.
”does it hurt?”
the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —
a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.
the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.
there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.
but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.
a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.
(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)
satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.
but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 
the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 
satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.
and he wins. he always wins.
that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.
time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 
satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.
that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.
and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 
but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.
(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)
satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.
because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 
a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 
(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)
a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 
so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 
it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.
and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 
there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 
you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.
when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.
you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.
so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.
the prince and his knight can do what they want.
not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 
(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.
but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)
satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.
and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 
but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.
as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 
all of it for one person.
all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 
that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.
sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.
a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.
(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)
the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 
despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.
“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”
you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.
satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.
“sure you do.”
”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”
”definitely.”
a moment passes. 
satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”
”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”
he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.
it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.
and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.
a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.
and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.
it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.
”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.
”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”
and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”
there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.
it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.
but…
”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 
you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.
satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 
after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”
you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.
”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”
satoru sits up a little straighter.
”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”
a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.
when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.
”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”
when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.
(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)
“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.
something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.
”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”
satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.
”settle down, little knight.”
a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 
”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 
a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”
you purse your lips.
“… i don’t think so.”
another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 
“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”
a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”
satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 
“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”
he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.
then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.
“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”
when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 
then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.
(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)
no matter where he goes, you follow.
and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.
“come with me.”
at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.
it’s the river you used to play by as children.
gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.
satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.
“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”
he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”
he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.
”i think you’re too scared to get in.”
you blink.
”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.
“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”
you raise your brow. unimpressed.
satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 
“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”
satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 
his knight. his favourite knight.
“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”
“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.
a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.
the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.
“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”
so you do.
and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 
the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.
you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.
a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.
his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 
a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.
but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 
and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 
“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”
his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…
(he’s warm.)
silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.
“i missed this.”
nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 
then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?
“… me too.”
“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 
you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 
”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”
a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.
”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 
satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”
another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.
”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 
a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 
”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”
silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 
(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.
when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)
”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.
”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”
a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 
“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”
silence. and then, a chuckle.
that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.
”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”
but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.
and then; 
“i’d do it, you know.”
a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 
satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”
”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”
(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)
you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”
“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”
and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.
“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”
“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”
“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”
you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.
“… sorry.”
a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”
he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”
”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”
”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”
and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.
enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.
”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”
there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.
you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 
“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”
“oh, i know.��� a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”
a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.
“i don't get it, though.”
you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.
”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”
the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.
satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 
his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”
you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.
”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”
a moment passes.
silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 
all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.
fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 
satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.
a boy so sweet you’d die for him.
(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)
a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.
”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”
but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”
”you’ll get sick.”
”i never get sick.”
a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.
a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”
and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 
but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 
until satoru suddenly chuckles.
“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”
you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”
before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.
“i think i was born to meet you.”
(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)
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Text
Knowledge of comprehension, benevolence, and aesthetics
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"Mainstream Sumeru academia tends to hide a certain fact from time to time, which is that for some people, talent can occasionally be more of a burden instead. Nevertheless, this view can also be but an excuse. In truth, it is your character that determines your destiny first and foremost. The aforementioned ideas are the sort that Kaveh will persistently rebut."
— Alhaitham
◆ Kaveh
◆ Empyrean Reflection
◆ Renowned Sumeru Architect
◆ Dendro
◆ Paradisaea
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A renowned architect from Sumeru, known as the Light of Kshahrewar. He is one of the most high-profile figures in the industry.
As a designer and an outstanding alumnus, Kaveh has quite the reputation among Akademiya students and is idolized as a role model by the students of Kshahrewar. Unfortunately, his career is not as plain-sailing as people imagine. The same can be said for many other facets of his life.
Titles, rumors, fame, and reputation... These are all mere by-products of his work. Equipped with astounding professional design skills, Kaveh puts his heart and soul into his work and is imbued with ideals and pursuits for aesthetics and architectonics. Designers are not in charge of the construction's final execution, yet they hold responsibility for all its aspects. Thus, be it design details, safety and security, or practicality, no effort may be spared in ensuring the quality of each aspect. On top of that, being one of the best in his field, Kaveh pays additional attention to the aesthetic and human elements that he is concerned about throughout the process. For him, designs that are completely divorced from reality should be classified as fantasy, whereas a building that is actually put into construction must have practical value.
That said, it is rather inconceivable that such an extraordinary architect could have been rendered bankrupt by a single project. Fortunately, very few know about this matter, and most of them keep it a secret. As for Kaveh himself, he is deathly afraid that the secret of his bankruptcy might ever leak out. It is thus fair to say that he is not really living his ideal life.
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whorediaries-09 · 3 months
Note
SO SORRY TO ADD ANOTHER A OTHER REQUEST :( BUT CAN WE MAYBE HAVE LIKE A SOFT NICE DATE THAT SLOWLY TURNS INTO SMUT WITH RON? PLEASEE? Also hui :3
hi lovey, thank you for sending in the request, hope you like it!
i think he knows; pairing- ronald weasley x reader warning(s)- mentions of war, 18+ content, fluff. a/n- contrary to popular belief, i am in fact quite alive and breathing.
little train.
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' he got that boyish look that i like in man, i'm an architect i'm drawing up the plans. '
going on a date after the war was...intimidating, to put it in within a play of a single word. and surely ron wasn't expecting himself to be in a sticky situation with the pretty healer who had tended to his wounds after the traumatizing events. he ran his thumb over the now healed scar.
it'd tell a tale.
he remembered you. he could recall the dullness of worry in your eyes. the shine of hope in your eyes. even if your hair was matted with blood and rubble, you were the diesel to the fire that so timidly burned. the bruise under your eye was fresh, deep blue blackening, a shard of glass hanging from your chin.
he wish he could paint the blue golden.
with the last tug at the leather strap of the watch around his wrist, he decided he'd get the flowers. it would add a nice touch, a 'gentlemanly effect', he liked to think. even if it did seem to be a bit cliche. perhaps he thought of the smile on your face when you got the flowers (he was hopeful that you liked flowers). or perhaps he was just afraid of the aspect of a hormone rushing pregnant ginny hitting him on the head because of his 'less gentlemanly thoughts'
he remembered harry patting his shoulders, throwing out advices. ron rolled his eyes. he recalled when harry was swooning over cho chang, describing his very 'wet' kiss. he kicked harry in the shin, pulling a laugh out of his friend, grumbling harry wasn't much of a 'playboy' either.
so, he found himself standing in the flower shop, having absolutely no ideas about flowers. he watched the half a dozen barely bloomed pink roses being tied together. god forbid you weren't allergic to them. or didn't laugh at him for being too cliched.
he wished hermione had actually written that book about girls.
*-
it was fruitful, his attempt to choose the flowers. he'd recognized it from the shine in your eyes and the beautiful curve adorned on your lips. he'd found you beautiful when you were on the brink of death, disguised as a savior, so heaven sent. but now, when you held his hand, touching the scar you'd mended, talking away about stuff he couldn't really catch up on, your hair smelling like something so desirable, he found you breathtaking. he was mesmerized by you.
you felt like a forbidden treasure, the diesel to the fire in his heart that raged it's flames ever so timidly.
you'd liked the flowers. ron silently thanked the gods that you weren't allergic. you liked a lot of things, he learnt. cats, photography, literature, music, and a good fuck... was amongst the few things you liked. he was sure you'd said that intentionally just to pull out a reaction. the evil trick was recognized by the pretense innocent mischievousness in your eyes.
he was glad he coughed the drink in his mouth instead of spitting it right onto your face. you'd smiled, throwing him a dirty wink, twirling the straw of lemonade with your tongue. the dim carnival light angled your features, bringing out the best of your bone structure.
'well, to put it correctly, i enjoy a good fuck...' you said, after ron had recovered from his coughing haze. he wiped the edge of his lips, a nd putting on his best front, he responded,
'well then i can promise you an enjoyable time with me sweetheart,'
it was said with an awkward stance, a constant shift of octaves. but it still made you flush as the flame of the fire of his burning heart tickled your skin. you'd be his fuel, his diesel. you'd be his muse, the tale he recite.
*-
by the time it was time to leave you by the doorstep, the sky dizzied itself across the luminated street scattered with gravel. his fingers were melted within the crevices of yours, fit snug like a puzzle. he liked the way you laughed, the way your voice did throbbed so serenely against his eardrums while narrating tales, the way your eyes lit up against the dim lighting. 'liked' would be an understatement.
for the first time in his life, he was thankful for his freckles. he hoped they hid the flush of his pale skin.
'you're...kind,' you stated, shimmying on your tiptoes.
'hmm... why do you say so, sweetheart?' he asked.
'i know you live on the other side of town, and you came by to drop me...' a stupid line pops up in his head, but he doesn't say anything. he almost bites his lip to not let his boyish thought control his action. so, he smiles.
and lingers. holding your hand. the distance between him and you isn't much, the little roof over the entrance of your house providing him the needed protection from rain.
he can feel your breathe upon his already warm skin. it excruciates his patience. it plays with his senses, the sweet fragrance of petrichor infused with a scent, that reeks of you. it's blissful.
still, like the boyish man he is, he does nothing. he lingers, letting a silence wrap the little bubble of tranquility. it's comforting, in a strange way. he can't figure out what to do, when the sound of the rain, the running vehicles and the croaking frogs blur, when he feels your fingers tighten around his.
your lips lingers a little too close to his, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. or rather the side of his mouth. his mind reels when you place forward your request, your thought.
'the rain won't stop. not now anyways.' you whisper, lips brushing his earlobe. he doesn't recognize what takes over him within the click of your doorknob and the placement of your hand on his waist, as you pull him towards you.
but he enjoys it, the sudden rush of hormones. it's quick, it's something he's not felt for a long time. so long, it almost feels foreign. perhaps, it is. it's a warmth he's never felt, no never in his teenage years has he ever felt the need of touch. he's never realized the need, he thinks.
it's maddening, your touch all over his body when he finally crashes his mouth with yours, pushing you against the unlocked door of your house. he stumbles as you grab your neck, breathlessly cradling your cheek within the crevice of his palm. the scar you'd fixed touches the one on your chin.
it's a tale to be kept silent, to be a concealed message. like a string of fate, perhaps.
his teeth nips softly at the bare skin of your neck, your back pressed against the cold wall of your house. he feels the heat radiate off your body, moans leaving your mouth. your name rolls of his tongue as your fingers pull his hair, pulling his face away from your neck.
'is this okay?' he asks, concerned. he thinks he's fucked it up, by jumping on your bones. to his relief, you smile,
'it's...more than okay. can we go to the bedroom please?'
'sure, sweetheart. whatever makes you comfortable.'
*-
you've got your hair tangled up in his ginger locks. the moans spilling from your throat echoes through against the walls of your bedroom. his lips aren't on yours, as much as he'd love to taste your moans and sounds, your noise is honey-dripping gold in his eardrums.
his cock plunges deep within you, till your room loses the smell of your sandalwood candles. it reeks of sex and skin, the physical intimate bond of unheard individuals. it reeks of something magical, a golden desire painting over deep blue bruises.
it's fueling, to feel his touch on your skin. it diesels the fire that ignites within you when he snaps his hips against yours. the sound of his gasps, your moans, and skin slapping fills the room. you roll your eyes, as he thrusts himself angled perfectly so as to hit your sweet spot. you see white, moaning his name,
'fuck please, ron right there,'
his silver chain dangles over your lips. you wrap your lips around it, bringing his face closer. he gasps, his finger slipping between your connected bodies. his calloused thumb rubs over your stimulated clit, making you arch your hips, searching for more friction.
'you're making me feel so good, sweetheart,' he moans as you clench your walls around his girth. the coil building in your stomach drives your to the edge of your sanity.
'yeah?' you whisper back, half heaving, half controlling your urge to scream. it's heavenly, the combination of his perfect thrusts, the rubbing of his finger against your clit. you wrap your legs around his body, pulling him closer, to feel him, to touch him.
his girth plunges in you, and you feel your coil unraveling through you, your thighs shaking as the orgasm bubbles over the brink. it's pure heavenly insanity, a break through from the scorching insatiable desire for him.
you feel him release within you, wrecking your guts. your orgasm paints his abs, as his lump body falls over yours, his weight dead. he hides his face into your neck, smiling. the tranquil silence settles, carving a little bubble of comfort. neither of you hear the rain pattering against the gravel.
perhaps, truly it was just an excuse. excuse for a fate, for a destiny. to rebound broken strings of souls.
'you don't break promises do you?' you ask, laughing.
****************************************************
taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510
(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox. specify whether you want to be tagged in just the series or all my upcoming works.)
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kidstemplatte · 5 months
Text
random papa headcanons
i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3
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⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅
primo
- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.
- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.
-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.
-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.
-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.
- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)
- a hopeless romantic deep down.
-virgo/libra.
secondo
-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.
- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.
- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️
-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.
-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.
-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh
-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)
-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.
terzo
- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.
- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.
-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.
-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)
- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.
- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.
- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.
-either a scorpio or a gemini.
-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general
-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.
copia
- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.
- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.
- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)
- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.
-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking
- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.
-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.
-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)
-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.
⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅
thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.
<3, alice
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sixosix · 10 months
Text
GENSHIN IMPACT.
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# XIAO
( 1 ) something happens
drabble / 1.7k words. verr goldet and huai'an playing matchmaker, basically
( 2 ) wasted time
drabble / 500 words. talks a lot x listens trope, but with xiao
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# WANDERER / SCARAMOUCHE
( 1 ) patching you up
drabble / wc 500. you're injured, and wanderer is there to help—not of course without a bit of snark here and there.
( 2 ) flustered
drabble / wc 600. wanderer proves that he can fluster you.
( 3 ) clingy
drabble / wc 1k. scara shows his true colors when he’s missing you.
( 4 ) softie
drabble / wc 800. scara does, in fact, have a soft spot for animals.
( 5 ) he can fly; you cannot
drabble / wc 700. he makes it his problem.
( 6 ) and his voice is a familiar sound
longfic / wc 5k. forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting.
( 7 ) happy birthday, wanderer!
drabble inspired by wanderer’s 2024 bday mail
( 8 ) pda w/ wanderer
drabble about him and public display of affection
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# SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
( 1 ) i drive down different roads | part two
fic / wc 4k. you met a detective once on an unexpected night; fate decides that it won’t be the last time.
“you look so pretty,” the stranger with twin moles murmurs, “like it’d be a crime not to want you.”
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# LYNEY
( 1 ) distractions
drabble / wc 600. roommate!lyney annoying you who just want to finish your essay. you fail miserably.
( 2 ) sleight of hand
longfic / wc 8k. local sumeru architect goes to fontaine looking for inspiration and comes out of it with three rainbow roses and a crushing magician.
you will not let lyney get to you. unfortunately, lyney already got to you the moment you met eyes. after all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?
( 3 ) kissing him awake
drabble / wc 600. kissing lyney awake doesn't really work.
( 4 ) teapot voicelines
drabble / wc 1.5k. lyney’s teapot voicelines turned fic
( 5 ) overwhelmed
drabble / wc 500. a huge party + reader who is sensitive to the environment + lyney being a sweetheart
( 6 ) sickfic
fic / wc 3k. you take it upon yourself to make it up to lyney when he couldn’t perform on the night he looked forward to the most—and lyney falls a little harder.
( 7 ) kisses
drabble / wc 500. sleepy lyney + kisses all over his face.
( 8 ) sucker
drabble / wc 700. it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.
( 9 ) lovesick and desperate
drabble / wc 900. lyney can't stop staring at your lips.
( 10 ) plastic flowers
fic / wc 1.8k. the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader.
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# AETHER
( 1 ) jealous
fic / wc 1.5k. aether has been traveling with you long enough for his bottled up feelings to overflow one day. lyney pushes that day closer.
( 2 ) infatuated
drabble / wc 1.5k. mutual pining but aether is a tease and you're an idiot.
( 3 ) accidental
drabble / wc 500. you accidentally kiss him on the lips.
( 4 ) hitting on you
drabble / wc 700. aether (one of the) main character(s) in hit game genshin impact hits on you.
( 5 ) stay, too
fic / wc 2.8k. you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him.
( 6 ) i want you for worse or for better
fic / 2.8k. your ex, aether, invites you to be his plus one at a wedding; you were doomed from the very beginning.
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# KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
( 1 ) can i go where you go?
fic / 2.2k words. three times kazuha keeps kissing you on 'accident'
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# KAVEH
( 1 ) it was all by design | part two
longfic / wc 10k. when soulmates are given a second chance.
he kisses you square on the mouth, the blueprint of the palace of alcazarzaray hidden beneath his palms, and he thinks he’s never been happier.
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# ALHAITHAM
( 1 ) officially swept off your feet
drabble / wc 1.5k. in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.
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# WRIOTHESLEY
( 1 ) one look (meant just for you)
drabble / 700 words. wriothesley visits your home.
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pennyblossom-meta · 5 months
Text
Gale/Karlach banter
Similar to my previous post: Gale/Wyll banter.
Warning: VERY long post.
Because the dialogue lines are so many, I won't add screenshots in some sections.
I'll add more items from Gale's side either here on a separate post.
Update: added some more dialogue lines
Act 01
Gale intervenes on Karlach's behalf (currently impossible to trigger)
Gale: Easy, Wyll. She's no devil. There's no fight to be had here.
Recruiting Gale
Karlach: Well done getting the wizard on board. He can zap from afar while I smack up close. But if he tries to get me to read any tomes, I will scream. devnote: Context, Karlach does not like to read
Recruiting Karlach
Gale: An ally fresh from the Hells themselves. Our company grows stranger by the minute - and all the better for it.
If Wyll is the avatar
Gale: Hunting one devil, allying yourself with another. Our journey gets more curious by the second.
First night at camp
Karlach: Gale's pretty lost in his thoughts, isn't he. Poor guy. Roughing it like this can't be his style. devnote: Genuine empathy
Taking a walk through the forest
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Gale: Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit. devnote: Brisk, invigorated Karlach: I was just thinking the same thing, but less poetically. devnote: dreamily Gale: And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles. Karlach: A girl could get used to this. devnote: relieved and happy
Blighted Village
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Karlach: Looks like this town was ransacked - by soldiers, if my eyes don't deceive me. Gale: Quite cruelly, too. Karlach: Must've been an awful day for the people who lived here. Gale: If nothing else, I hope it was a mercifully short one.
At the Grymforge
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Gale: The architects who built this must have been remarkable. A pity their vision didn't stand the test of time. devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: All's not lost. I mean, just look at this place. devnote: Impressed with what she sees Gale: You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you? Karlach: Hope keeps you going.
Underdark
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Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore
Act 02
Plains, near the Temple of Lathlander (or is this in Act 01?)
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Gale: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep? Karlach: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say... a long way away. devnote: dreamily Gale: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. Gale: No matter - what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway. devnote: Black humour/finding the bright side
Mountain Pass
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Karlach: Man, adventuring is thirsty work. Gale: There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale. Karlach: That sounds like heaven! Wait. Used to? Gale: Oh, yes - long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still - at least your thirst for knowledge is quenched. Karlach: Ugh. devnote: Groaning at Gale's cringe joke
On the road to the Shadow Cursed lands
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Gale: Do you feel that? A darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave. devnote: Alert, sensing something Karlach: You'll still be able to do your wizard thing, though, right? Gale: Of course, but that doesn't make the shadows less dangerous. devnote: Reassuring Karlach, whiloe remaning concerned about the wider dangers Karlach: Joy. devnote: sarcasm
Shadow Cursed lands
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Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh - that's just how things are. Grim humour to it Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.
Last Light Inn, Shrine to Selûne
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Gale: A hidden shrine, dedicated to the Moon Maiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on. Karlach: Pretty beautiful, isn't it?
Tollhouse
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Karlach: Whoa! Almost slipped there. Gale: You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer. Karlach: You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? Gale: With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe. devnote: Confident
Brewery
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Karlach: Huh. A brewery. Why does Reithwin Ale ring a bell? Gale: It was known to be quite the tipple - a cask or two still exists, if you know the right alekeep... devnote: Enjoying being the expert on this. He definitely knows 'the right alekeep' Karlach: You must have good taste. Not me. Can't afford it. Gale: A common misconception. Even the simplest of flavours are elevated by the choice to appreciate them. Don't deny yourself such pleasures. devnote: Kind/encouraging
Moonrise approach
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Karlach: Ready to enter the belly of the beast? Gale: It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep. devnote: Facing an obstancle with cheery determination Karlach: In that case, welcome home.
Moonrise Docks
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Karlach: We're not taking a boat to Baldur's Gate, right? Gale: And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not. devnote: Yeahhh… no. Karlach: Phew. My mum always said the Chionthar was unlucky.
At the mind flayer colony, under Moonrise Towers
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Gale: It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place... devnote: Observing, not sure what to make of it Karlach: Squiddies have gone to war, is my guess. Gale: On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd have been quite happy without.
Act 03
Blushing Mermaid
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Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (first half) Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying (second half)
Counting House
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Gale: They say wealth offers a form of magic. Alas, it's one I've rarely dabbled in. Karlach: Nor I. Never had more than a few coppers in the city, and any soul coins in Avernus went straight to Zariel. Gale: Make no mistake. Souls are sold for coins up here as well. All too cheaply, in most cases.
Sorcerous Sundries
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Gale: Look around you. Indulge your curiosity. Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Where's the axes? devnote: looking for battle-axes to the dismay of bookworm Gale Gale: What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield. They sell knowledge, ingenuity, the wisdom of mages past. devnote: Showing his friends around, trying to sound impressive Karlach: Sounds like more your thing than mine.
Romance
Breakups and relationship status
Karlach's side
Player breaks up with Karlach over Gale
Karlach: Fuck off if you're here to talk about Gale. I already know. devnote: Wounded/ sadPlayer was partnered with Karlach, but ended up choosing Gale. Karlach found out on her own and is now reacting. This shouldn't be a mega aggro 'fuck off,' more like a 'go away'. Karlach: Couldn't tell me to my face, huh? Had to wait 'til I just... just figured it out. devnote: sad/bitter
Karlach: Whoa. What? You... want to be with Gale...? devnote: Copping on that the player is here to breakup with her Karlach: Since when?! devnote: angry and hurt
Karlach: I should've known Gale would weave his spell on you. Who could resist? devnote: Bittersweet. Player is dumping her for Gale. She's sad but still on good terms and trying to keep things light. Karlach: I know I had... well. You know I liked you. Like you. But I want you to be with someone who can make you happy. If that's Gale, that's Gale. devnote: Heartbroken but mature. (...) Karlach: Hope you don't regret throwing over all this fire for all that hot air. One'll get you through winter, the other'll recite you a lot of codices. But hey. To each their own. devnote: Heavy on the subtext. She's putting a lighthearted/ sarcastic spin on the fact that the player just friendzoned her for gale.
Karlach: When Gale's on page one hundred thirty six of a supremely boring recitation, and you look over and there I am throwing a lasso around a giant centipede and riding it to Chult, I'll have my comeuppance. devnote: Still keeping it a bit light/teasing
Karlach: Gale climbed out of the Weave long enough to waggle his eyebrow in your direction, huh? devnote: Still a little light. She does like Gale, despite his high-falutin-ness, so she doesn't mean this to hurt him.
Player chooses Karlach over Gale
Karlach: I thought you and Gale were... I don't know. Karlach: Gale will be all right, right? Of course he will. He's Gale. If he can take a hit from Mystra, he can take it from you.
Gale is the player and is in a relationship with Karlach
Player: My future's no more certain than your own. But when I dare to imagine having one, it's always you I see beside me. Karlach: I'm seeing you at a desk. Pile of books up to the ceiling. And me barging in with a brace of rabbits for supper. Karlach: You start chopping carrots. I stoke the fire. And every night is the best night we've ever had.
Date with Karlach, Gale is the player character
Karlach: You know, it does. There's always a bit of a veil about you - I guess it's the magic, but there's something else, too. Something I want to discover first-hand.
Q: Tell me a secret
Player: I once claimed to have read all six volumes of 'Lichen and Its Curative Properties' to impress a comely botanist. Alas, a falsehood. Karlach: You mean you haven't read all six volumes?! Gale Dekarios, I'll never look at you the same. devnote: Teasing
Player: I'm afraid I'm doomed to repeat past mistakes, no matter how I try to avoid them. Karlach: I know what you mean. Changing is hard. Every time I think I've figured it out, boom, there I am again, behaving like some version of me that never learned a damn thing.
Gale's side
Gale: And what of Karlach? Her heart can surely break, though it burns.
Breaking up with Gale for Karlach
Gale: Karlach, yes? You burn for each other in more ways than one. Gale: I... I thought you would show me the respect of telling me first, but no matter. You can tell me now - who is it to be? Me, or her? Player: I'm sorry, Gale. I want to be with Karlach. Gale: Don't be - she has a good heart. Poor phrasing - she has a terrible heart. But she's surprisingly caring, considering it.
At the tiefling party
Gale: You might be in for an adventure with Karlach. More than you bargained for - with a bit of luck. Gale: Or perhaps more than you bargained for - full stop.
Talking about Tara
Gale: You remind me of her somewhat. You share her fierceness, and her passion.
Be my God, boat scene
Gale: I'll always have you, Karlach.
Act 01
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Gale had first stage of romance/attraction with player - not yet anything official. Gale: Karlach... a hypothetical question for you: devnote: Attempting nonchalance Gale: If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it? devnote: Attempting nonchalance Karlach: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale. And leave out the hypotheticals. Gale: Talking. Right. I'm good at that.
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Gale: You know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality... devnote: Hint of flirtation, mostly just trying to be helpful Karlach: Ugh. Are you going to try and teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what? Gale: Actually, I was thinking of poetry. Karlach: Oops, sorry. But... now that I think of it... is mage hand especially hard to learn?
Act 02
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Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. devnote: Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire. Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.
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Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me? devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'
Act 03
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Gale: Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach? Karlach: I sure am. If there's hope for me there's hope for anyone.
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Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? devnote: With concern Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. devnote: Upbeat, things are looking up Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. devnote: Upbeat mood wavering - this is a bit embarassing Karlach: I can only imagine. devnote: i.e. 'anyone who would reject you, Wyll, just can't appreciate you.'
Karlach dies at the end of the game, Gale is the player character
Player: Karlach, please... I'm not ready to go on without you. devnote: Distraught, lover is dying.
variant 01: Karlach is dying, Gale is a friend
Gale: No, Karlach. Stay with me, please. We've shared too much to part like this.
Game finale (not epilogue)
Karlach is the player character
Gale gave the Crown to Mystra
Gale is in a romance with Karlach
Option 01
Gale: It's curious. After all the wonders and monstrosities we've witnessed, waking beside you seems more unreal than any of it. devnote: Wistful/peaceful - spent a romantic night with the person he loves Gale: I'd forgotten what it felt like, to greet a sunrise without fear of it being my last. devnote: Wistful/peaceful Gale: Oh, hells. I'm sorry. Barely awake a moment and I've already put my foot in it. devnote: Kicking himself, he's accidentally rubbed salt in his partner's very sore wound Player: Don't be. At least one of us will get the cure we were hoping for.
Option 02
Player: Don't be. It's not your fault. Gale: Come now - resignation doesn't suit you half as well as optimism. We'll find some other means of fixing up that infernal engine of yours. devnote: Caring/Encouraging
Option 03
Player: Knowing you, I'd expect nothing less. Gale: You always find a smile where others would soak in their sorrows. And I promise - you'll have reason to smile soon enough. Gale: When we get to Waterdeep, we'll search in my library. It's bound to contain the odd scroll on hellish thermodynamics. Or a spell that might diffuse the heat in such a way that - Gale: Ah. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Do you... that is, would you consider returning to Waterdeep with me? devnote: A bit nervous to ask - this is Karlach, after all Player: I can't. My only hope of survival is to return to Avernus - and I'm not going back. Gale: What, then? You intend to die here? Now? devnote: Refuses to believe it - essentially been told his partner is submitting to her illness
Option 04
Player: I'd love to, Gale, but I can't. My engine is done. Fully cooked. Gale: I - I don't believe it. I won't believe it. Gale: If you go were to return to the hells - temporarily - it would buy us some time. I could put something together, a means of keeping you stable at least. Please, let me try. devnote: Trying to convince her, scared by what she's saying (that she's ready to die) Player: And hand myself to Zariel on a platter? No thanks.
Option 05
Player: Say nothing. Concentrate. You feel like you might explode any second. Gale: I know that look. It's your heart isn't it? Not to worry - you have one of the finest wizards in the Realms at your fingertips.
Gale suggests going to Avernus with Karlach
Player: I'm not going back, Gale. I can't. Gale: What if... what if I went with you? devnote: Scared by his own suggestion
Option 01
Player: I couldn't let you do that. You deserve better. Gale: I deserve the chance to live my life with the raging inferno I love. If that means relocating to the hells, so be it. I've heard Avernus is quite lovely this time of year. Gale: Besides, it would be quite something to study infernal magic in its natural environs. I say 'natural' in the loosest sense, of course.
Option 02
Player: If you were with me, I might be able to handle it. Gale: There's nothing we can't handle - I promise you that. devnote: Essentially his partner just refused treatment for a terminal illness. He's putting a brave face on it so they can enjoy the time they have left. Gale: It's taken me long enough to find you. I'll be damned if I'm letting you go.
Option 03
Player: No, Gale. Neither of us is going to that pit. It all ends here. Now. I just want to see the sky one last time. Gale: If this is the end, then we face it together. That, at least, I can promise you. devnote: Heartbroken - his lover is dying next to him, thanking her for loving him
Gale is the player character
Karlach is a mind flayer
Gale goes back to Waterdeep
Player: I think this is where we part ways, Karlach. Karlach: I accept your assessment. You would have been an excellent helpmate in my exploration of what it is to live. But perhaps we are both of us too... changed. Karlach: Where will you go now? Player: Back to Waterdeep. I've a warm fire and a long-neglected reading list to get through.
Epilogue
Karlach is dead, was partnered with Gale. Karlach: I can see Gale? Withers: Indeed. His story has marched on since thy great victory - as inevitable as time itself. Let us observe.
Note: will do the rest in a separate post.
Misc banter
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Gale: I think your new form rather suits you. It has a certain... cephalopodic charm to it. A tentacular tingle. devnote: Karlach will live! Yay! But she is a mind flayer
Gale: I can imagine no finer ceremorph for the job.
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Gale is the player character, hasn't shared his backstory Player: I've a... condition I need to manage. I'd still be looking for a cure. Karlach: We have more in common than I knew. I won't pry for details. Right now, at least. devnote: Karlach wants the goss but won't pry
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Gale is the player character, shared backstory Player: Wandering the wilds of Faerûn searching for a cure to the orb. If I lived that long... Karlach: Living a normal lifespan is so yesterday. Believe me.
Gale: Revenge is a dish best served hot, it seems. At least when you're in charge of the menu. devnote: Dark humour - your friend achieved her goal, but you know she'll not live long enough to celebrate
Gale: Ceremorphosis is Karlach's only chance of survival. It must be her. devnote: Impressed, finding this all very interesting
Gale: No sense dawdling. Karlach has precious little time left to her - we'd do better than to waste
Gale: I've not seen infernal flames like that in quite some time. Why go to Avernus, when you can bring Avernus to us? devnote: Curious/pondering - a rhetorical question, no response from player
Gale: I know well the pain of seeing your life's hourglass running empty, grasping at any means of slowing the grains as they slip inexorably through your fingers. devnote: Sincere, a note of pity - Gale once thought he was fated to die because of the orb, so her truly understands what she's going through Gale: Your fate may be ordained, but your actions are not. Make each breath count, and what time you have with us will never be wasted.
Gale: Karlach's fate may be ordained, but her actions are not. She will make each breath count - we can be sure of that devnote: Finding solace in the thought
Ilithid transformation
Player: It's okay, Gale. Karlach wants to transform. She'll do it, for herself and for us. Gale: Then I will hold my peace. But if the time comes when even her sacrifice is not enough, call on me, and I will be ready.
Gale thinks that becoming a mind flayer is his best chance at getting the Crown
Gale: I know Karlach has the best intentions, but her kind heart is not going to help me get that crown. Let me do this.
About Gale, Mystra, Elminster, etc
The dialogue lines for this section can be found in the file /Dialogs 2/Companions/Karlach_InParty_Nested_TopicalGreetings.html
Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing what Elminster said to Gale. Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: Hey! Maybe I'm invited too. I can be the muscle.
(variation)
Karlach: I couldn't help overhearing. So Mystra wants to talk, does she? Not every day a god asks for a chat. Karlach: ...can I come?
Karlach learns about Mystra's message
Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all.
Player: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. devnote: Being cheeky
Player: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms.
Meeting Elminster Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad?
(variation, if the player is Gale)
Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad?
Gale is the Player, talks about Elminster's message from Mystra
Karlach: Aw, was that your granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Player: Yes it was. Good old Grandfather Dekarios, come to check in on his doting grandson. Karlach: Lovely! You should've introduced him around. Elders love me, and I love them. Player: I'm joking, Karlach. That was Elminster Aumar, the Sage of Shadowdale, one of the greatest wizards to ever live? Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: It relates to a 'condition' I have. I carry an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. It seems Mystra wants me to detonate that orb and destroy the 'Heart of the Absolute.'
Player: He brought instructions from Mystra. I'm to find the Heart of the Absolute, and destroy it by detonating the orb in my chest. Karlach: The orb in your chest? Shit - I knew something was going on with you, but I didn't know the particulars. Karlach: Well. Turns out we have more in common than I knew. Except I'm trying not to blow up, and you've been instructed to do just that.
Karlach: Wow. That's... that's big, Gale. This is Mystra we're talking about. Goddess of magic - and she's asking you to sacrifice yourself. Karlach: What are you thinking? devnote: As in, 'What are your thoughts about this serious revelation?' Player: This could be my chance at redemption. I have to at least consider dong what she asked. Karlach: Only you can decide if that's really true. If you owe her your life. As for me, I'm positive we can stop the Absolute without losing you, Gale. Karlach: Keep that in mind, all right?
Player: I'm not quite sure yet. It's a big decision. Karlach: No kidding. What could be bigger? Look, I know what it's like to house something dangerous inside you. But I don't know what it's like for someone else - someone I trust - to ask me to use it against myself. Karlach: If you need a friend, you know where to find me. Right here. Right now.
Player: Now that I'm over the shock, I'll probably ignore her request entirely. Karlach: I'm glad to hear you say that. It is shocking. Imagine asking someone to - to end themselves like that. Karlach: Nothing's ever simple anymore, is it? Whatever you decide, I've got your back. But I think we can defeat the Absolute without losing you, Gale.
Player: That remains to be seen. Karlach: Oh? What did he say? Player: I'd rather not talk about it right now. It's a lot to process. Karlach: All right, soldier. But look, if you're in a fix that can be solved by fire or fists, just point me in the right direction. I mean it.
Player: Elminster's no ordinary elder. He's the most renowned wizard in the realms. Karlach: Your grandfather is the most famous wizard in the realms? Karlach: I should've guessed. I mean, you're pretty powerful. Makes sense that it's in your blood. Player: No, Karlach - I was joking before. Elminster isn't my grandfather. But he did tell me something quite serious. Karlach: I'm listening. What did he say?
Karlach: Wonder if he's (Elminster) a wizard too. He's certainly got the beardliness for it
Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.
Karlach: Wow. 'Chosen of Mystra.' I guess I should congratulate Gale. Right? devnote: Karlach is happy for Gale. Suspicious of Mystra but trying to be supportive. Karlach: I trust him to know what he's doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. I just hope he knows he doesn't need her favour to be fucking fantastic.
(variation, if partnered with Karlach)
Karlach: Wow, Gale. 'Chosen of Mystra.' Congratulations, I think? Karlach: I trust you to know what you're doing. To know how far to go for Mystra. Just know that even without her - even without any of the gods - you're still pretty fantastic. Karlach: 'Chosen of Karlach' has a ring to it, right?
Karlach: Whoa. I've seen a lot, but never been threatened by a god. Karlach: It sounded like Gale really meant it. He really wants to take control of the Karsite Weave. Karlach: He really wants to be a god. devnote: She's not bought in. She's assessing Gale here. Measuring him.
(variation)
Karlach: Interesting. devnote: Suspicious
If Gale is the player character
Karlach: Interesting. I'll keep that in mind. devnote: She's starting to lack trust in Gale here
Gale is noncommital about returning the crown
Karlach: Wow, Gale. So you spoke to Mystra, right? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But I think you were right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies. Karlach: Proud of you, though. It takes some man to hold his own in front of the divine.
Karlach: Wow. So Gale really talked to Mystra, huh? Karlach: Pretty spectacular stuff. But he's right not to do her bidding, no questions asked. Karlach: I respect the gods, but they don't always understand what they're asking of us. Maybe immortality makes it hard to know what it's like to be one of us piggies.
Gale is blessed by Mystra Karlach: You're glowing, Gale. Mystra must be very pleased with you indeed. Don't forget us little people when you're the Chosen of the God of Magic, hm?
Karlach: Gale looks chuffed as cheese. Mystra must be very pleased with him. Let's hope she's got his best interests in mind.
Gale agrees to return the Crown to Mystra
Karlach: Wow. Gale is the 'Chosen of Mystra'. Congrats to him, I think? Karlach: Hope he knows what he's doing. We haven't fared very well with other Chosens so far.
Gale uses Shadow Weave
Karlach: Hope you know what you're doing, Gale. I'm no paladin for Mystra, but she probably has good reasons for forbidding Shadow Weave.
Karlach: Gale's walking a thin line. Let's hope he doesn't fall headfirst over it - again.
Orin kidnaps Gale Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back. devnote: Seething
Gale is resurrected Karlach: This fella Gale has as many lives as a cat. Handy guy to have around, huh?
Karlach: You all right, Gale? Looking a little shadowy about the gills.
(variation)
Karlach: Is Gale all right? He's looking a little shadowy about the gills.
Items and Netherese orb comments
Karlach: Wide berth, buddy. I have some good equipment I don't want you swallowing.
Karlach: The people you meet, I swear... devnote: A little bemused
Karlach: Much as I commiserate with your, you know, thingie. devnote: 'tough ticks' is a karlachism
Karlach: I like Gale, but I'm keeping all my good gear well out of sight. Karlach: Everything fancy he touches meets a grisly end. Karlach: I commiserate with his situation, though. It's tough ticks housing something you can't control.
Gale is the player character
Karlach: Hey now, what happened to that fancy bit of gear? Player: It's a long story involving the Weave, an ancient tome, and a failed attempt to please Mystra, goddess of magic. Karlach: Hm. And now you have to consume gear Karlach really wants because... Player: Because I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city. Karlach: Well, shit. And I thought I had it bad. Karlach: That's a tough hand, Gale. But I'm glad you told me. A chest-bomb shared is a chest-bomb halved, or whatever. Karlach: If I spot anything that'll help, I'll hand it right over, pal. We're in this together.
Player: Because if I didn't, I'd be dangerous to all of us. Karlach: Are we talking some kind of were-wizard situation here, or...? Player: I have an orb of corrupted Weave within my chest. If I don't keep feeding it with magic, I'll explode with enough force to destroy a city.
Player: Just because. Karlach: Wizards and their secrets. Buddy, I could ruin that mind of yours with the stories I could tell. Nothing you say could scare me. When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen.
Player: I had to consume it. Sorry if that scuppered any plans you had for it. Karlach: I'd mind less if I knew the full story. Never seen a fellow suck the magic-marrow out of an item before.
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seat-safety-switch · 14 days
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When it comes to alternative energy, there's lots of great solutions. Everybody loves solar power, where you put out a bunch of expensive panels and just collect all the free money that falls from the sky. Most people love hydroelectricity, where you spin a wheel with water and then laugh all the way to the bank. What doesn't get a lot of respect is wind power, where you put a giant spinning thing super high up in the air, and then harvest power from the winds of fate.
We can spend all day guessing about why that is: I think it's the fear of heights, in the same way that vaccination campaigns have to overcome the "needles scary" instinct that has been drilled into us by Hollywood celebrities and that very stern lady who gave us a hepatitis jab in junior high. That said, if we did spend all day talking said shit, then I'd be late to my new job, which is selling expensive wind-power solutions to the city.
"Didn't we ban you from the property last month?" asks the nice city architect I am meeting with. He is partially correct, in that I was banned from a city council meeting after throwing fists when they threatened to take away my free parking (in a neighbourhood I don't live in, but has gradually become "overflow" for the 1975-1981 Pontiac collection.) However, today I am operating in my professional capacity, as a corporation: the Switch Centripetal Assets Multinational. We are here to sell things that spin in the wind, and save the Earth at the same time.
Despite the uphill battle, I successfully convince Mr. Nosey that I am in fact my own identical twin brother. I roll that confidence boost into a big sale: several dozen partially-broken Dana 30 axles, with an old hood welded on one end to catch the breeze, and an old alternator welded onto the other. Works like a charm, and can light almost an entire string of Christmas tree lights if you're currently experiencing a hurricane. A few weeks later, we've successfully sunk them into the ground and cashed a large cheque consisting entirely of government cheddar, and I'm on my way to pick up a bunch more shitty old Mopars.
The best part is, nobody has to be afraid of heights, unlike with my sloppy European competition. They're about five and a half feet tall, due to their origins as a truck axle. You can walk right up to these suckers and service them, though I strongly recommend ducking if the wind is really blowing. Still, if you get decapitated by it, that will at least convince the doubtful to instead be cautiously afraid of its immense power. Nothing better for advertising.
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sunny44 · 1 year
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My star 🌟
Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Girlfriend!reader
Warnings: none.
Summary: When Pierre remembers you in an interview.
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"Well we are here with none other than Pierre Gasly the new formula 1 driver for the Alpine team. Pierre how is it going with the new team?"
"Well first of all thank you for having me and I am very happy with the new team, after many years in the Redbull family I felt that I needed a change and new air so it was really nice to change and have a fresh start.”
"Perfect and how was your reception there?"
"It was great, the staff is amazing and I think we will be able to do a good job on track."
"Wonderful. Well we asked the fans to send you questions and we separated the ones we thought were the most creative and different. The first question is even if you are separated will we get more content from you with Yuki?" I laughed at the question.
"For sure, even in different teams he is like a little brother to me and we spent 2 years working together so for sure you will have content from us."
"The second question is what is your biggest fear?"
"I think it's losing someone. I've lost a few people and I know how hard it is and I'm honestly not prepared for that to happen again."
"Do you ever feel afraid of racing?"
"I would be lying if I said no because I had, but it was before I got into formula one. I think if at some point in our careers we start to feel fear it will be time to stop."
"Do you think at some point in your F1 career you will feel that fear?"
"I think yes, probably when I get kids that's when I will feel fear of dying in a car."
“So do you think about having kids?”
“Of course, it’s was always a dream of mine and it’s also a dream of my girlfriend.”
“So it’s confirmed you have a girlfriend?”
“Yes, I know that have some rumors about it and yes it’s confirmed.”
“Do we know her or do we’ll get to know her?”
“No you guys don’t know her, she’s not famous or anything. She’s actually an architect, we met in Monaco in the last GP and a few months later we started dating.”
“Woo that’s awesome, congratulations to you two.”
“Thank you.”
"And that brings us to our last question which is pretty random and that's why we chose it. Do you like stars?"
"If I like stars?" I ask and again to confirmed and he agrees and at the same time I think of her. "yes I love stars.”
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Bonus scene!
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Liked by @yourusername, @charlesleclerc, @yukitsunoda and others 98456
@Pierregasly My star ⭐️
Tagged: @yourusername
@charlesleclerc finally
Liked by @pierregasly
@yourusername love you babe and I miss you so much
@Pierregasly I love you more and I’m coming home for you
@yukitsunoda I can believe you betrayed me
@Pierregasly sorry babe
@yourusername ahn excuse me???
@pierregasly run Yuki
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Let me know if you want to be on the tag list for Pierre stories or all F1 drivers that I’ll write for
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saigawrites · 1 year
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Hey siri, how to take care of an aura jelly blob?
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Continuation of my series | part 1 | part 2
Seelie! Genshin characters x Platonic! Gn! Reader
Sumeru men edition
Tags : fluff, crack, scenarios
Warnings : cursing, mentions of animal attack
Summary : you took home a strange creature, that looked nothing like anything from your world. So, you try to take care and somehow live with this sentient balloon.
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You didn't know what had happened at all. You didn't know how and why you took home an intellectual blob with pretty colors. But, right now there is no time asking questions, as this flying circle thing has been squeaking for about 30 minutes, trying to explain you something. You came up with an idea in your mind, but for a moment thought it would be impossible. But, who knows? Maybe this creature actually has an intelligence and can write what they wanna say on a notebook?
Grabbing a empty notebook and a pencil from your workspace table, you open it and give the pencil to the creature. Shockingly, it holds it with tiny arms, and levitating themselves closer to the paper, they start to scribble something.
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Wanderer ♥︎
"Filthy humanoid creature! I am the unnamed wanderer from teyvat! I know nothing about the surrounding environment around me. Tell me, where am I, so I can figure out a way to return to my homeland. And don't you dare to take advantage of my current state! I am powerful beyond your understanding, even if I'm not in my original form."
Okay, that's kinda freaky. Why is an aura balloon acting all supreme now?
When you read what he wrote, an "really?" expression set on your face. That's probably why he zapped you when you took him out of your bag.
As much as you know, there isn't a place called "teyvat" in any part of the globe. So, this thing is from another one. Great. You somehow bringed an alien into your house.
But at least, some of your questions were answered.
You found a bit funny that a floating circle with cat ears and tail was deliberately trying to boss around, though you didn't wanna get electrocuted again, so you simply followed whatever demands this alien thing could have.
Oh, his demands were BIG. No sleeping past 6 AM, doing intense research on the topic of multidimensional lapping, and long explanations about literally everything your world can offer you.
Well, you are glad that you don't have to feed him or watch after him.
That last part was a lie, as this seemingly harmless boss companion of yours was dangerously curious, and happened to cause trouble even if he was as soft as jelly.
Yeah, that time he wanted to see what type of clothes do your humans wear, he shaked that closet a little too much, as it almost fell on you.
You learned that he is surprisingly very strong after that, he even helped you put the heavy wood rectangle back in place.
Or that time you both were taking a walk in the forest, and he came too close to an aggressive tank with antlers, a 6 feet tall moose, making him react violently to you.
Gladly, the moose couldn't come any closer as your blue-purple friend somehow casted a heavy gust of wind, strong enough to push the animal away.
Your angry little jelly blob rushed to your side after that, afraid of you damaging yourself in any way. After scanning your face for any injuries and finding none, the cat blob made sure to not to stray away from you far.
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Kaveh ♡
"Thank you, kind-hearted humanoid! I was so scared when I woke up in that place. Your rescue will be forever remembered by me. I am Kaveh, the architect of the sumeru city! It is an honour to be acquainted with such a peculiar creature like you! Please, help me find a way for me to get back to my planet."
First off, did he mention sumeru? The ancient city that existed centuries ago? Second off, did he call you peculiar? These balls be wildin
The warm-yellow bunny eared balloon floated around you excitedly, waiting for your response. You wanted to pet him and slap him into the void at the same time.
You got his vibe just right in your first interaction. The jelly ball acted all cute and adorable, but the clinginess of his made you progress on the aggression part in the cuteness-aggression feeling way more.
Seriously, this piss blob's ignoring of your personal space is on another level. The amount of times you had to shove him away from nuzzling all over your face and hair is overwhelming.
In his eyes, you are a majestic architectural masterpiece. He takes notes how your eyes and ears are on the same level, how your brows are exactly perfect centimeters away from your eyes. He loves your nose structure, he often stares at it to much, gaining a questioning look from you.
He is just like that with literally everything else in your apartment. He takes notes of the proportions of some objects, and in his seelie mind he finds ways to project your modern structures into his own.
Other than disturbing your piece he likes to look out the window, stare down at all of the other buildings and examine them with extreme focus.
Sometimes he even tries to make a sketch with his itty bitty hands, but fails miserably and comes crying to you, burying himself in your arms and making you pet his smooth body.
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Al-haitam ♥︎
"I am Al-haitam, and I come from another world, as you probably already have guessed from our appearance differences. I thank you for taking me into a safe environment, may the archons bless your kind-soul. I ask you to fulfill my another wish, help me return back."
Who are archons? Are they some kind of deitys? Gods perhaps? You truly don't know.
His calm and reserved behavior matched his talking style. He kinda reminded you of the mystical tree, his colors and a leaf like antenna confirmed your statement further.
That's probably why you would burst out laughing whenever the green aura circle would act all smart, reading books and watching educational videos on youtube with you.
Though, after laughing your ass off, you would always think of his behavior as cute in a way. So much that you would have to hold your hands in place and resist the urge to just squeeze the life out of him.
Sometimes you couldn't hold it tough, and give in to your desires, smiling and giggling as you nuzzle this jello orb body of his.
Fighting back and eventually winning, he would aggressively bring your communication notebook and write down that your relationship is purely professional and you are disturbing his necessary research.
Making a ridicilously serious face and nodding repeatedly you would leave him alone for some time, only to come back again to lay on him and fight in the process.
Eventually he would just give up and go with the flow of your playfulness, seeing as he got exhausted of reading multiple books already.
And when you would get tired, you both would just lay there, napping peacefully as he nuzzles in your chest, listening to your heartbeat and think of how strange you are in his world perspective.
After waking up from a quick nap, he would poke you with his tiny arms and tug you to stand up to go to the library with him.
He really loved your libraries, the sight of your extremely detailed and textured bookshelfs and scriptures would make him scream like a fangirl on the inside.
He also liked your concentrated state, with your reading glasses on and gaze fixed on the letters. He would enjoy it even more when you would take notes of the subject, he's genuinely amazed of your handwriting.
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Cyno ♥︎
"I am the general Mahamatra, Cyno. I thank you for saving me from the streets. I would be more than happy if you could get me back in my world, teyvat. Thanks in advance, or should I say, in later on."
What the hell was that. Was it... a joke? Okay, now is not the time to question what type of humor does this purple circle has.
Oh, but he's questioning you, looking at you with such a attentive gaze. Is he waiting for you to laugh?
Fulfilling his wishes, you chuckled from the amusement of not getting the joke at all. The blob didn't care though, as he simply jiggled in his place, proud of himself.
From that moment you discovered that this alien orb is a terrible jokester, as he would literally pull you from whatever you were doing to just check his new made ones.
And everytime you couldn't help but laugh histerically at his antics, because you wouldn't get the premise at all. All of his jokes never made sense, but were the most hilarious thing you laughed at in a while.
And he would always jiggle with pride after you laughed, bro really thought he gained a fan of his jokes💀.
One day you thought about showing him your world's perspective of humor, as you sat him up on the couch and turned on the tv with popular comedy shows.
Safe to say he would repeatedly jump from his seat, and roll on the couch from side to side, as his purple anubis ears would jiggle uncontrollably.
You took it as a sign of him liking it, and soon enough you both had a routine of watching comedy shows and gasp from laughing.
At first you thought he was just a happy go lucky guy, not realizing he can be sort of a guard dog.
Really, you only saw him being serious when he sensed something and flew to it's direction, only for it to be a racoon that he scared away with mini thunder.
Now you got why he was such a bright color of purple. Not gonna lie, you were a little scared to hold him after that, afraid he'll electrocute the shit out of you😰.
But it never happened, so you guess he's only friendly to you? Honestly, you felt kinda honored to have this status.
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Tighnari ♡
"Greetings, suspectable another species of humankind. I am Tighnari, the forest ranger of the sumeru region. It is a pleasure to be in your natural environment, being able to study your world. Though, I would appreciate it if you could help me return back to sumeru. I still have a ton of things to do back there, so please, make sure to fulfill my request."
Is he some type of a scientist? "A pleasure to be in your natural environment, being able to study your world" yeah, my ass.
And he was an ass. Pain in the ass, to be exact.
He wouldn't leave you alone, wherever you would go or whenever time it was. He was always around you, floating and examining your features.
He just can't help himself, you look so strange! And everything around you looks so strange. He just has to know atleast something about the place he is in right now, what type of setting it is, how does it work, and yada yada yada...
That's what lead you to the situation you are in now, as he peeked out of your hoodie pocket, staring at all the contests of the supermarket you were in.
Even if you had told him already a thousand times that he can't go with you because he doesn't look like everybody else, he didn't listen and sneaked inside your clothes, successfully getting out of the house with you.
You desperately tried to cover his enormous ears with your hands, stuffing him further inside the pocket only for him to pop out from the other side. What a nosy aura blob.
It would get even worse when he would fly out to scan some object like salty pickles, thinking of it as peculiar, when in reality the only thing that's peculiar was him.
He would closely watch whenever you would put something in the cart, taking notes on how you hold the product and how you place it inside the metal structure.
He especially got very freaky about your world's greenery, demanding you to go out with him into a park, a nearby forest or literally anywhere where there is some type of plants.
You instead decided to take him into a local botanical garden, and when I say he went crazy, he went crazy.
Stopping every 3 minutes to find a new plant and examine it for about 20 minutes you and him spent the whole day in that garden.
He would poke your shoulder to it being numb, asking you to explain or tell what kind of plant it is, where does it grow, how does it grow, can we take it home, all that nerdy shit.
You did end up taking some small house plants afterwards, due to his unstoppable crying and squeaking, like a child wanting their parent to buy candy in the store.
He then made sure to always bug you to take care of the plant, saying that he is "incapable" of doing so himself. What a troublesome circle.
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Oof, this ones LONG. And I'm proud of it😜. Genuinely hope you enjoy this, cuz I spent an eternity writing this😭.
Tag : @vault-of-reblogs
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gffa · 8 months
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There's an interesting quote from an interview with Tini Howard (one of the two architects of this storyline) that just collided in my head with everything I've been trying to articulate about the bigger arc of this storyline: “It's not really an event about whether or not [Bruce and Selina] can get together. Once you agree that you like someone, you get down to ideology. You can't just love someone because they're beautiful and they stun you. What if you're different people? What if you believe different things? [In] comics, it is like [they] kiss, and they're together.” Howard also emphasized the importance of agreeing to disagree when it comes to interacting with loved ones, both romantic and platonic. “As someone that's been married to my best friend for 15 years, that's not the truth. A big part of being with someone you love is learning to disagree. When you're a superhero and a powerful stakeholder in Gotham, those personal things can have major effects on the world around you.” But what's interesting is that I think it applies to his kids just as much as it does to Selina, because I think this storyline's heart is all about Bruce Wayne's mental state. That's the framework, that's the beginning, and I'm assuming it's going to be the end, too. The story has been set up very clearly about how he's been running through too hard a gauntlet with no rest in between for too long, the opening pages of this event make a very heavy point about how Bruce is already running thin, the establishing storylines before this are ones like Failsafe, Red Mask, Insomnia, etc. I would even argue (and have) that there's a lot of connections going on with other storylines that were about Bruce's relationships with his family that are informing this one--like, the breakup between Bruce and Selina is right there when Selina says, well, if Gotham being saved is all that stands between us, now it's peaceful, let's head to the church then, in pointing out that Bruce doesn't want Gotham saved as much as he needs to be the one saving it. There's so much deeply personal stuff Bruce has been facing and he's always struggled with caring about others and letting them in, not just afraid that he'll lose them again, but that he'll be hurt by them again, that he'll fight with them again. And it's not that he's never clashed with viewpoints, like he and Dick alone have gotten into a whole bunch of knock-down-drag-out fights about how they clash with each other.
But I keep coming back to Bruce's mental state and the ultimate purpose of this storyline, because it's not really about Selina's plan at all, it's always been about Bruce's mind and mental health falling apart in a deeply horrific way and how even his loved ones are being stripped away from him, because he cannot compromise. That one of the core problems with Bruce as a person is that I'm not sure he really learned how to get along with someone that he fundamentally disagrees with--because, when he lost his parents at such a young age, there wasn't time to see them as people he could disagree with, they're forever idealized in his head. With Alfred, they had disagreements, but fundamentally, Alfred saw how much Bruce needed this and Alfred was so often water bending around Bruce's immoveable rock. Dick was one of the biggest challenges, because they did have fundamental disagreements that led to massive fights. Jason and Tim and Damian all have their disagreements with him as well. Which is why I think Jason plays the role in this that he does--why Bruce is suddenly bringing up Jason's murders again, because it's the narrative bringing up that Bruce has been struggling to reconcile fundamentally disagreeing with someone on such an important thing, a core thing about himself, and when this much stress is piled onto him, he breaks and does something truly terrible.
It's why Selina had to be the one to come up with this plan (no matter how silly it might seem, no matter how much it's not really that much sillier than costumed vigilantes fighting crime as a reasonable solution to how to help society), because Bruce doesn't really know how to disagree with her on this fundamental a level and still have a relationship with her. It's why Dick has to be the one that fights him as one of the most central pieces of the story that really makes shit hit the fan, because Bruce has come to depend on Dick (as an adult) to be the one to save him, to pull him back from the darkness, and when it's Dick that "betrays" him, it's a foundational block being taken away from Bruce's stability. It's why Tim and Damian occupy the roles they do in the story, that they both desperately want to help Bruce, but don't know how when Bruce won't let them, that while this story is central to Bruce as a character, these characters also need to struggle with disagreeing with someone and still interact with them--and how to deal with a Bruce who struggles with that.
Watching Bruce struggle with Zur-En-Arrh taking over his mind, watching him struggle with defining himself through his war on crime because it feels like the only thing holding him together, watching him struggle with how much he loves and wants these people, but it's running right up against the thing that's holding him together--it's pretty painful because most of the time, even when he disagrees with someone, he can look the other way (after some asshole behavior) or someone will pull him out of the dark, but here everything just piled up in a major freight train of about seven different things colliding at once and Bruce just does not have enough experience in dealing with disagreeing with people and just learning to live around those disagreements, to be able to handle it when his mind is fracturing and the "pure Batman" part of him is all that's holding him together.
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arrenlebanen777 · 2 years
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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS ❁
WARNING: Could include Content +18 
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 ❁Those who have the 8th house ruler in the 11th house as Venus(Vedic): Usually Vedic astrology falls short here, they only say that this is about group s*x, earning money through s*x, winning a spouse through s*x (wtf), honestly I know people with this position and it is not like that, I am disappointed to see this in Vedic astrology... It actually means that Yes, you can be quite sensual and you have a charismatic aura that attract people easily, but it doesn’t mean group s*x or gaining money/spouse through s*x or all that type of shit, it means that you have refined sense for art, and that you can work in high status places like being an architect or something like that, and you are a person who likes high status things and who is quite concerned about popularity and reputation, and in s*x matters you are quite open-minded and usually you have fun here, but you can get caught up in pretty empty s*x, just for sensual pleasure, and actually can have very shady friends that are involved in shitty/secretive things. If you have this placement in Vedic astrology prove me wrong.
❁Lilith in a man natal chart doesn't mean the type of woman he fears: Is his inner child wounds, his repressed/violent/raw/shadow side. So women who have personal planets signs or have the energy of his Lilith, can make them feel really uncomfortable or not at all (depends on the maturity of the person) since they trigger this suppressed energy, which can generate friction in the interaction or it can even generate s*xual tension, leading to a healing/regenerative s*x, BUT NO FEARING!. So if you feel empowered because you trigger wounds in other human beings, it’s dark and it only talks about your psychological issues.
❁Your co-ruler of a house(intercepted sign), Doesn’t have less influence in your life and is not less important at all, actually having two rulers of a house could influence your life almost equally, it is just they get activated on different moments of your life. For example: if you have the ruler of your 8th house in the 11th house and the co-ruler of your 8th house inside the 8th house, you could feel the influence of your co-ruler more powerful than the ruler because it’s inside the same house and that is very powerful in astrology.
❁Capricorn rising: Girls with this position could feel a lot of anguish, they have a lot of discipline, Serious appearance, but they are sweet sweet people once you know them a little more(cancer DC), girls with cap AC have beautiful cheekbones, but there could be skin problems as well, and men with this position have very masculine bodies/appearance. ❁In vedic astrology a malefic/benefic planet doesn’t mean that is negative/positive, they all have their light and shadow side. ❁I find so annoying reading those astrology posts about your future spouse like serously that not depend on astrology, it depends on you, your vibration and what you do with your life. So if you're sitting there waiting for it to show up in any moment... You have no idea all the influences in your life that can complicate that, such as: your limiting beliefs, your fears, Solar return influences, your subconscious, Traumas, Arrogance, immaturity, etc...and in fact we can quite transcend our natal charts and attract the person/relationship we want/deserve, have you heard about manifestation? ❁To all the people who have asteroid Eros(433) in the 11th house/Aquarius: You are really in to group s*x, orgies or anything like that? or in reality you are into mental stimulation, mental compatibility and trying new things? (i read you) ❁If you have placements in hard aspects(conjunction, square, opposition) with Saturn, Don’t be afraid, because the only thing that Saturn is asking you for is maturity & integrity to express those energies(planets/asteroids/archetypes) of your chart in the most mature/authentic/honest/transparent way possible, that is why a lot of people don’t like Saturn, because they are very immature, lacks integrity and just want to fill the void of their egos…and Saturn is not going to support that. Because probably in your past life(s) you handled those energies like shit, and in this life Saturn comes to correct that.  ❁The other day i read a post from a person here in the community giving an incredible theory(if you know who it is, I give all the credit to that person): Your birth chart is your Sun persona chart(personality/ego), Moon persona chart(Emotional needs), Venus persona chart(what are your desires), Mars persona chart(Ambitions and s*xual desires), and like that... it is a good theory but it falls short in some planets, For example: Mercury( i see the mercury persona chart of a lot of people and they are very similar), and due to the social/transpersonal planets influence too. “But if you really want to know yourself more deeply and fulfill the desires/needs of each planet/asteroid you have, look at the persona chart of each one of them”. ❁Vedic astrology sometimes falls short with Venus. ❁Venus aspecting Neptune or Neptune in 8th house: They might like/love when they see their partners/lovers crying, it kinda turns them on. “I have this and I find it really beautiful when I've seen them cry, I find it so pure, watery, spiritual, otherworldly and honest. And yes, it kinda turns me on too lol” Anyone relate to this? (I read you) ❁Men with Mars in Scorpio or Aspecting Pluto/Pluto in 8th house: Doesn’t have big d*cks, in fact it's quite average, but if they like you, they can stay hard and strong all night, because Pluto here gives raw power and that is a very intimidating stamina and libido that is not easily transmutable. ❁Men with Mars in Pisces/Aspecting Neptune or Neptune in 8th house: Here it gives the illusion of a Big D*ck, their p*nises have an special energy that can easily cause sensitivity and even org*sms to their partners, their energy it’s like chi/Prana/life force and that can be quite regenerating/even addictive. Here is not about big stamina or crazy libidos... Is about connection, adaptability & merging.
❁Men with Mars in Cancer or Aspecting Moon/Moon in 8th house: Something strange and magical happens with these individuals, their d*cks grow depending on the emotional connection they have with a person, it means that if they honestly connect with you physically, emotionally and mentally, their d*cks can Grow a lot, to the maximum range that their p*nises can, and sometimes it can grow a little more than expected if they are in love with you, but if the connection is poor and shallow, their d*cks retract and tend to shrink, because their d*cks are one with their hearts/emotions. ❁Men with Mars in Capricorn or Aspecting Saturn/Saturn 8th house: Something similar happens with the moon aspect, but here Saturns asks for maturity, so if they go out with you and they find you important in their lives a lot of stamina and endurance will be unlocked, usually their d*cks don’t grow like with the moon aspect but they get hard as a rock, and Saturn has an other side:”He is dirty AF” so if they find you important (or not at all, the other extreme), they can be very nasty and like demons in bed.
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vermutandherring · 10 months
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The building is dedicated to Ukraine's Independence Day on August 24, as the actual building is part of the president's office and is used as a residence for official and diplomatic ceremonies 🇺🇦
I finally finished this house after several rebuilds. No matter how hard I tried, the list of additional materials did not become much smaller. Rather less scattered. But do not be afraid: I divided the entire CC into 2 parts - for the facade and the interior. So if you don't need every detail, you can download just the exterior decoration part and furnish the house however you like. If a particular detail from the screenshots caught your eye - I will gladly share the link.
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You might not hear it, but the alien plants from the Get to Work expansion make fantastic sounds, adding to the magical atmosphere.
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I changed the back of the facade a bit because I wanted to place this building in Glimmerbrook, while the original building is much larger than lot I used for the house.
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Of course, the sculptures only very remotely resemble the original ones. But I think the overall silhouette looks pretty similar if you think of the whole house as one sculpture.
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The interior can also only remotely resemble the real one, solely due to its whimsicality.
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Today, one of the halls of the building is used for face-to-face diplomatic meetings in light blue tones with Chinese motifs - the "Chinese" room. But you can use it as a dining room.
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The exterior of the house is fully matched by its interiors with artistic paintings, marble, stucco decoration, wood carvings, and inlays. The fireplaces of the famous German company Mason are of great artistic value. There are spiral staircases, hunting-themed stained glass windows, and polygonal halls.
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The free planning uses the principle of functional interconnection of isolated groups of rooms (halls, residential, utility), which is characteristic of luxurious residences of the beginning of the 20th century (when the house was built).
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The architect of the building, Vladyslav Horodetskyi, is a unique and mysterious personality. In addition to his admiration for architecture, he also loved hunting. Therefore, perhaps he decorated the facade with his own dreams for himself for his 40th birthday.
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Floor plans, more screenshots, additional info and DOWNLOAD here (always free).
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acupofqueercoffee · 8 months
Text
“Caught in a web, drunk on love”
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Shutara Senjumaru x Reader
wc : 3100
cw : not really unrequited love // jealousy // misunderstandings // a sprinkle of drama // fluffy floofs
well what can i say. she’s so mommy and i’m a hoe for mommies so i couldn’t help it. always wanted to write something for her but i was just needing that little push which obviously her bankai gave me 😩
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Spider. A creature you have never been too big of a fan of. Those creepy crawlers with their beady eyes and fuzzy limbs are, and will always be the genesis of your nightmares. Simply the idea of the word will forever have dread burgeoning within you and ice cascading down your spine, or so you have believed. Why, then, are flowers blooming inside your chest as you watch the bane of your existence weaving a web? In other words, you are atrociously, irreversibly, positively, and utterly fucked.  
In the Soul King Palace, you are one of the less important guards under the direct command of one Shutara Senjumaru. Less important of course than the esteemed Royal Guards, but certainly on par with the strongest of shinigamis. Although there is no official title to it, your position beside your lady is an equivalent of a Lieutenant down in Seireitei.
Ever since the beginning, the divine general of the north, with her onyx hair and golden halo, eyes oozing with mesmerism, and lips a delightful red, but the most arresting of all, her spindly automatonic limbs sprouting from her back like six unworldly wings, has reminded you of a spider: one that is elegant and teeming with splendour. The lady’s introduction into your life has seeded in you a habit of conjuring up her face whenever you see or even think of your once-dreaded friends. In fact, when you think of an eight-legged crawler, you are rarely thinking of one and very much thinking of the six artificially limbed stunner. Hence, you are decisively fucked.
In pursuit of comfort, your hand, as if having a mind of its own, glide towards your waist where a knitted red charm dwells, the tassel of which dangles from the white sash of your uniform. Running delicate fingers along the intricate patterns of fine silk, your lips flourish into a smile.
From socks to scarfs and whatnots, your lady, the great weaver as her name suggests, has tailored many a thing for you. Not only has she remedied a great many holes in your battle worn uniforms, she has also graciously showered you with a miscellany of pristine garments. After all, artisanship is your lady’s forte, occurring as naturally as breathing to her, and her six hands are either sewing, knitting, embroidering or doing all three of it at the same time. She does it with such great finesse and dexterity that she may as well be carving a statue of herself out of your heart, for it worships the very ground she walks on. 
When you notice her presence, you smell it before you hear it. Delightfully floral with a touch of dark undertones, heavenly, mysterious and so undoubtedly her. 
“It was my understanding that you have a strong dislike for them, no?”
Comes the mesmerising lilt of her voice, glazed with a trickle of tease, and you smile a little, knowing smile, bringing your gaze from the spider to its human counterpart.
“I’ve steadily started finding them charming I’m afraid.” The little blossom of a smile on your lips once you search her eyes is that of softness. Your lady regards you coolly with a barely noticeable smile, drenched in enigma by her siren-eyed gaze, the caress of which is well-nigh tangible on your face. It does a quick travel to your waist, and upon finding the gift that you carry on your body since acquiring it, a hum spills forth a pair of bewitching, blood-red lips. 
“Walk with me.”
You take the hand that she offers, smooth, spindly and rather ample in size that you are only truly able to grasp two of her lithe digits. 
“With pleasure, my lady.”
“Am I allowed to wonder what exactly is the architect of your change in impression of arachnid? You of yore would flee the site if she so much as catches a glimpse of an itsy-bitsy one, I’m sure.”
You love that she remembers things about you the way you do things about her. She fancies her tea with a drizzle of honey. Not unlike a spider, she does have eight arms, the two of which are of her own flesh and blood, and because she keeps them hidden under her cloak at all times, only a handful of people have witnessed them. You have, during a visit to the hot spring in Kirinden. Nobody has given her a gift personally hand crafted by them, so when you have made for her a braided charm, a very clumsy attempt at that, she has told you that she would cherish it, and cherish it, she does. Despite it being faulty, it has found its forever home tucked safely in the red sash of her outfit, the tassel of it peeking out from under her haori with every elegant step she takes. Playful banter is her favourite pastime and it amuses her greatly that you indulge her. So once again, you do.
“You have every liberty to wonder, my lady. The decision to answer lies in my hand after all. I will say this though, it’s who rather than what.”
“My,” So she drawls in a tone that deliciously tickles your spine, and when she stops, you do too, watching as lips reveal teeth in a kittenish smile. “is that so?”
You have an inkling that to an extent, she knows of your fondness for her, evident in the way she humors you. Judging from her behaviors, she does not appear entirely opposed to it, and you might even go as far as saying that there is a good chance of her considering you should you confess.
Suddenly, a droplet touches your cheek. In the small interval of time that it takes for you to look up, your lady has expertly woven an umbrella out of thin air, all the while her one hand holds onto yours. By the time a drizzle escalates to a downpour, you are well under the protection of your lady’s masterful craft. However, your heart is going haywire, for the space between the two of you has considerably narrowed when your eyes meet. Leaning forward, a cool pad of a thumb presses a delicate kiss onto your cheek, caressing the wetness away from your face which inadvertently leaves a pink tinge in its wake. 
“Let’s call it a day, shall we?”
At your nod of approval, she adjusts her hold on you, slipping her fingers just so that your hands are intertwined together. The tips of her robotic digits easily reach your wrist, and when the cool pad of her thumb gingerly traces the hummingbird flutter of your pulse, the little creature coos inside your ribcage.
Roses are red.
The sky is blue.
And oh how you love Senjumaru. 
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“Yoohoo Shutara, look who I found dilly-dallying around!” 
The guffaw of Hikifune jolts Senjumaru out of her bath induced reverie. Her head tilts, propped up by her fist, the dark waterfall of her hair swaying slightly as her eyes lazily search her friend.  
Think of the devil and the devil is here. 
A ghost of a smile graces her lips, for she finds you tucked under the arm of the ruler of grain. It has been a while after all since the two of you have spent time together. 
“Can you please unhand me?” More laughter ensues, louder this time, and your request is effectively nipped in the bud. Ruffling your hair, she tugs you closer to the point that you are smothered by her generous bosoms. 
“Lady Hikifune, you- you’re-”
Killing me with your breasts! You wanted to say, but instead, you are left a sputtering mess.
“My my, haven’t you bagged yourself a cutie, Shutara!”
Granted, Senjumaru would find the sweet strawberry shade on your cheeks ridiculously charming, that is, if it had been a product of her doing. Certainly not after you have just been called a cutie by a woman who has her breasts shoved into your face. 
And so, she rises with all the grace of a nymph, droplets on her body twinkling like little diamonds in the soft light. 
“Why Kirio, I thank you on behalf of my girl for escorting her to me,” Meanwhile, she has effortlessly drawn you into her arms, one of which is slithering across your waist. Alas, the little wasp has been caught in a spider’s web. “but if I do recall, you have matters to attend to, have you not? By all means, do not let us hinder you.” 
“Ugh now my mood is spoiled, thank you very much Shutara.” The divine general of the south’s voice drips with sarcasm, and that of the north replies just as sarcastically. “Of course.” 
“On another note, I smell ya later cutie!”
With a wink thrown towards your way, the cheery general is gone. 
“Wild woman.” Murmurs Senjumaru as two fingers pinch the bridge of her nose. 
You on the other hand, through the flimsy fabric of your robe, can feel her body pressing into your back; all the ridges and the valleys, every dip and dent, and lord is she so wonderfully soft. 
Suddenly, along with a ghost of a breath on the shell of your ear, her voice greets you. “Hello there, my girl.” Like a dollop of butter on a pile of warm, fluffy pancakes, you melt, all giddy and toasty inside. “Now that you’re here, could I trouble you to give my hair a wash?” 
“It’s no trouble at all. I’d be delighted to.” You do not dare turn lest your legs fail you, and in a desperate need of a moment of reprieve for your sorry little heart, you chance a glance at her. “Why don’t you go relax in the water, my lady. I’ll be right with you.”
There is a beat of silence before you feel hands on your hips and a delicate touch of lips on your nape.
“Do not keep me waiting for too long.”
The milkiness of her skin practically glows in the warm water while her luscious mane, like the finest of silks, effortlessly slips through your fingers. The urge to bury your nose in her silky smooth strands is strong, but not as strong as the urge to nuzzle your face in the exquisite beauty of a neck that is captivating you from beneath those onyx mane. Lost in a daydream, you do not realise that you have paused amidst your task until your lady turns towards you. Without so much as a warning, she pulls you into the pool. The sorry excuse of a cloth on your body gives way to water, and you mirror your lady in that you are now thoroughly soaked and bare. 
Her gaze roams, and you notice the exact moment that the warm mischievous glint in her eyes goes glacial. She has seen your body, or rather the marks peppered across your neck and chest in varying shades of red. Her face is unreadable, the very picture of aloofness, and although it stings, although it seems as if a chasm has suddenly appeared between the two of you, you try to bridge it, take a step, an olive branch of sorts. It is your darkest nightmare comes true however when she avoids the hand that reaches for her, a look of, dare you say, disgust etched onto her face, and without so much as a word, she takes leave.
What have you done wrong, you do not understand.
All you know is that you feel discarded as though you are but a stale meal.
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To have been branded by this enchantress of a woman and afterwards carry the very traces of herself on your body, even with a good chance that she will no longer have any recollection of your little moment together, has filled you with bliss as much as having her mouth on your flesh did. 
Although her mien has betrayed nothing and she was the very picture of poise, you knew she was drunk as soon as endearments fell freely from her lips. “My darling sweetheart” so she has called you, and you have been too naive, too lovesick to believe that, albeit being under the influence of liquor, she has peppered you with kisses while thinking of you, while still being aware that it was on your body that she was leaving her traces. Alas, it has never crossed your mind that you would turn out to be a cheap substitute for the one she truly desires.
“Oi oi Lady Senjumaru has brought a girl to her palace.” 
When you have heard such murmurs amongst the guards, as selfish as it is, you were hoping it to be a falsehood.
Your little glimmer of a hope is crushed into smithereens once you are summoned to her chambers only to have your heart join the pile of dust on the ground. Nestled in your lady’s arms like a baby bird, a naked girl mewls and trembles whilst red lips leave messy kisses along her jaw and down the length of her neck.
The spider is making a show of devouring its prey, but instead of fear, you fall victim to pain, oh wretched, unforgiving pain. She is being deliberately cruel because ultimately, you are an audience to this play only due to her invitation.
“My darling little sweetheart.” And you watch, drenched in melancholy, as your lady savours the lips of someone who is not you.
Oh. 
“You.” Comes the voice, indifferent unlike the loving coo that was just uttered to the girl cradled close to her chest. “I want you to tidy up my place while I take my darling home.”
Oh. 
A nod, or rather, a bow is all you can manage so as not to bare your features that is now marred with an endless cascade of tears.
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Peeved would be a horrible understatement. It does not bode well with Senjumaru that while you were all she could think about, you had been cosying up to another, who, for all she knows, could have been one of her friends. Judging from the little display the other day, it could very well have been Kirio. How laughable she must have appeared, being all overly defensive for naught. 
She admits however that she was unnecessarily cruel with her reaction, and that her little act of revenge was childish at best. Essentially, she has only herself to blame, misinterpreting your innocent admiration for her to be something else, something sacred. And now, with that calloused display of hers, she might have even ruined the bond that the two of you have shared. 
No matter how she reasons with herself, it still perturbs her after all, and once again, something ugly rears its head when she finds more of those lingering hickeys on your body while she crosses paths with you in Kirinden. 
Good and evil play a tug of war, and evil emerges victorious.
“Back from another fun, I presume?”
“Why do you care?”
“My, what gives you the impression that I do? I’m merely curious which one of my comrades’ bed one of my guards is diligently warming every night.”
“Curiosity kills the cat, Lady Senjumaru.”
Rising out of the pool like a predator on a hunt, she corners her prey. Whereas her spindly arms manipulate you so that you are facing away from her and then, trap you against the wall, her two hands find home in the dip of your hips, pulling you until your back fits into the curve of her body.
“And oh does it pounce!” Growls the hunter as lips find your nape, teeth bestowing bruises and tongue soothing stings, all the while you shake like a leaf in her bodily confine.
Her hands wander over to your ribcage, holding you there, thumbing the soft underside of your breasts. It has your back curving into her body.
“Swift work is my biggest selling point, you understand. Do not underestimate the name of Senjumaru.” The sinking of her teeth directly into the throbbing vein on your neck triggers your fingers to dig into the flesh of her thigh. “Shu- ngh- Shutara.”
Senjumaru remembers a dream, an all too tantalising dream. In it, her charming little prey was deliciously caught in her web, and the great weaver has taken her sweet time savouring the delectable creature. What a divine little thing her prey was, squirming in her grasp and panting her name, ambrosia to her ears, while her mouth has mapped as many inches of skin as she could manage, committing everything to memory. It stays with her even when dawn breaks, except that, the dream she had was all but a dream, eluded Senjumaru. 
Amidst her arm twining round your chest, she hears it, a broken little sound that is but a tiny whisper. 
“Why are you doing this to me?”
The lady turns you in her arms. With gentle fingers, she tucks a few wayward strands behind your ears to reveal more of her colourful works, which she gingerly traces with a delicate digit. 
“These were my doing.” It is not a query, merely a statement.
“I understand that you have mistaken me for someone else.” You release a sigh, eyes slipping shut when a thumb presses onto a particularly sore spot. “So please, just let me be.”
“Is that what you want of me? To let you be?”
“What I want doesn’t matter.”
“Why doesn’t it matter?” Your attempt to flee from her gaze is effectively put to an end by a hand cradling your jaw. Mindlessly, a thumb bestows soft caresses to the apple of your cheek. “Answer me.”
“It just doesn’t, alright? Because I’m not- I’m not what you want.” When you look into her eyes, she finds in yours the first dew of tears, and before they could escalate into a cloudburst, she pulls you into her six-armed embrace, your face safely tucked into the nook of her neck. Along with a soft lingering press of a kiss atop your temple, she breathes her words into your skin. “Though I have a penchant for darning, it seems I’m superb at tearing the one thing I want perfectly weaved.”
“I hate you, my lady.” By the way your hands are fisting into her flesh as though your life depends on it, she begs to differ, though she only indulges you, a ghost of a smile hanging loosely on her lips. “Do you now?”
“Very much so. I hate that I love you.”
“Oh, but my dearest, how I love that you love me.”
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