#poor Gil has no idea
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Spicy Addams Family AU? 🔥
The curtains fluttered in the breeze, the air simply too hot to close all the windows. They swayed further into the library and then back towards the sun streaming in, as if gossiping with the rays and the shelves about what they witnessed.
His mouth was hot against hers, tongues dallying in a way she had never imagined tongues could do. She had never seen him quite so demanding, always soft spoken and amiable. He was a true gentleman, and the gentleman had his hand sliding up her leg, heavy skirts of her dress be damned.
Thena turned the page delicately, as if the sound of it would immediately alert her mother to the book of hers Thena had found sitting unguarded. She wasn't allowed to read any of Mother's romances. Something about them not being for her eyes. But she was quite ready to be free of her parents, she thought. And it was just a book.
Gil would tell her to read it.
Her back hit the shelves behind her as they continued in their lasciviousness. He uttered a sound that rumbled from his chest. His hands grew feverish, clawing up her dress until he could grasp her thigh and hoist her higher. His lips, ever demanding, pressed to her neck, following the path of her throat to the neckline of her dress.
Thena sunk further down against her many pillows. Her legs twisted under her plush white duvet. The prose of the book were certainly romantic. Perhaps more...detailed than she would have expected.
He pushed her dress up further and further. The skirts of it pooled up around him until she no longer had an unobstructed view of him. She had half a mind to ask what he was doing, but the half a mind she possessed still became hazy. His mouth pressed to the inside of her thigh, dragging her stockings down and out of his way. She did not know mouths were meant for these sorts of things.
What sorts of things?
His tongue found her first. That clever, gentle and sometimes overly honest tongue he possessed. It touched her in her barest form, sliding around the bends and folds of her. He pressed it firmly to the nerves collected at the peak of her womanhood. She had never felt such sensations before.
Thena shifted in her bed again. She wasn't entirely sure what nerves they were talking about, nor why they were calling it 'her womanhood'. She swallowed but it sounded dry to her ears, her room otherwise deathly silent. Not even Theseus was awake.
Her back arched. She ran her fingers through the thick locks of dark hair upon his head. He kissed her between her legs the same way he had her mouth. Sounds she had never before uttered escaped her. Her cheeks were flushed hot. The rest of her flushed hotter.
Thena indeed found herself pressing her fingertips to her cheeks. Her legs squirmed again. She made a face as she pressed her thighs together, a curious sensation building between them. She could picture the happenings of the book well. The man with his broad shoulders, his dark hair.
It built and built until she was on the precipice of undoing. She tilted her head up, her breasts heaving against her corset. The thick collection of her brown hair-
No, no that wasn't right. Thena squeezed her eyes shut, her legs rubbing like a cricket's. That wasn't what was in her head. She dug her shoulders into her pillow. She lost where she was on the page, hunting to continue.
His manhood-
Again with the obscurities. She at least knew the word for it.
His manhood throbbed in the open air. She had little time to examine it in its glory before he was bringing her hips closer, to the very edge of the ladder until they could be joined.
They had moved to the ladder in the bit she missed. Oh well.
She allowed him to enter her, filling her in ways she had never imagined. Her whole body folded around him, pulsing with the beating of her heart. He was thick, and he began moving immediately.
Thena pressed her lips together. Her hips swivelled and she slipped a hand under the covers. She too had to inch up the hem of her nightdress until she could find her own skin. There was a dampness between her thighs that was most certainly not her monthly.
He moved gently at first, rocking like waves against the shore. This was the act of love making. The physical profession of love, she thought. Two bodies entangled in the most intimate sense of the word. She slid her arm across his wide shoulders and tugged at the hair at the back of his head. Lovemaking was all well and good, but she wanted more.
She had heard fucking was also the physical act of love.
Thena breathed heavier as she read. Lovemaking in the poetic language became detailed, bordering on graphic. The man grew more energetic, words like 'pounding' and 'rutting' jumping out at her from the page. Her fingers, now coated in the wetness between her legs, ventured further.
Her jaw dropped faintly as she pushed where she had not pushed before. Perhaps this was the collection of nerves of which they spoke. She touched it lightly at first, before realising certain angles were too much. She changed approach, rubbing it downward from above.
She let out a faint moan, still far too loud for her echously large room lit only by her lamp. She pressed her head into her pillow, no longer concerned with what was happening on the page.
They were in the middle of fucking, as it were. The man was 'pounding' into her, his 'thickness' moving in and out of her at such speeds. Hips were rolling, bodies were writhing, it was all quite a lot.
"Gil."
She didn't mean to say it. It just...slipped out. Her mind was moving faster than before, but she also wasn't thinking clearly. Her fingers moved faster, trying to bring about something. Her head rolled to the side.
She could imagine Gil as the book's beloved hero. He was tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair. He was kind, and had a sweet nature to him, but not without his own sense of mischief.
Gil had soft looking lips. He had a wide back and thick arms. He was warm, and he always smelled nice whenever they were in close proximity. His hand would hold hers gently as they went up or down the stairs.
She could imagine Gil's lips on her neck, like in the book. She could practically feel his hands on her skin, his sturdy but gentle grip holding her as he grasped her thighs.
"Gil," she whimpered, tracing around those nerves again. There was more wetness, now. Her hands did grow feverish (the book was right).
He would kiss her like that. She would know what it felt like for his incoming moustache to scratch her skin. Perhaps he would kiss her between her legs, like in this library scene. Would they make love? Or would they fuck?
"Yes," she gasped, eyes sealed shut and hand moving faster. He would whisper sweetly to her, call her pretty like he did that day it was raining.
Something was coming. She tried to bring it forth. She picked up speed, changed angle, went back when she felt it slipping further away. Her breathing became feverish and she felt the flush in her skin spread all over her body.
Thena rolled onto her side, squeezing her thighs around her hand as her insides pulsed rapidly. She dug her nails into her pillow and held her lips together as she made sounds she'd never heard herself make. It felt like a fever, like her muscles had been tense and finally released. It felt like relief.
She rolled onto her back again, practically panting for breath, for which she felt a little foolish. It was just her in here, with her hand and a book. She could understand why mother had forbade her from reading them. Such heretical things they printed!
She picked up the fallen book, eagerly searching for where she had left off. Not that she would be resuming her activity with it, but it was still a story in need of completion.
She nearly yelped as a tapping on her window startled her. The book fell from her grasp as she looked at her balcony. It was Gil's messenger, a corvid named Mandu. She cleared her throat, pulling up the strap of her nightdress and wrapping her shawl around her to greet the bird properly. "Come in."
The creature obliged, flapping from the rail of the balcony to her writing desk, tilting his head.
Thena flushed with guilt. Gil was asking if she'd read the book he had sent her home with from their last visit. And if she hadn't been distracted by her mother's...diversion, she would have finished it by now.
The bird eyed her, surely wanting to return home.
"Sorry," she gave him an apologetic smile before hurriedly scribbling a reply.
She was extra sorry for lying. She wouldn't normally!--not to Gil, at least. But this was a unique circumstance. So just this once, she would tell a small fib. And she would read the book right away! It wouldn't be a fib for long.
She examined the hastily scribbled message.
It's a beautiful story. I can see why you treasure it so. I'll tell you all the parts I loved most when you visit next week.
They never bothered addressing their little messages anymore. It was too formal for a correspondence they engaged in almost daily. She spritzed the paper lightly with the perfume she had been given for her birthday before folding the letter and securing it to Mandu's back.
"Thank you," she smiled at the dark feathered messenger. "Safe travels."
The bird nodded to her, too smart to crow loudly in the dead of night. He took off again, flying into the bright moonlight outside. Thena closed her glass doors with a sigh, feeling as if she'd been caught in the midst of something scandalous.
She looked over at Theseus, still asleep under his heat lamp, much to her relief. No, it was her business alone what she was doing, or reading. That book could wait though. If need be, she would return it to mother the very next morning to avoid suspicion. She could say she left it in the sunroom and feared the cover would fade in the light.
She had to finish Gil's book first. If she finished it, her message would not be a lie anymore. And then she could feel at least a little less guilty about the events of this night.
How she would look him in the eye when she did see him next was another matter entirely.
#Thenamesh Addams Family AU#I hope you like it anon!#I know it's a little different but I don't think they're quite they're yet#Thenamesh 18+#don't read this at work of course#listen Thena is growing a little rebellious#reading her mother's books#lying#messaging a boy in the middle of the night#she does read the book all through the night#it's a beautiful story and she makes sure to remember what she can tell Gil about#he comes over and asks her all about it#she tells him all the details she loved#but also...#she can't stop staring#she keeps looking at his lips and gazing at him with dreamy eyes#she tells herself to get a grip#it was...nothing#it was like a dream#a dream no one must know about#poor Gil has no idea#he got the letter from Mandu and gets a whiff of the perfume and thinks she's so cute#what escapes Thena is that he was so dying to talk to her that he wrote that message#woke Mandu in the middle of the goddamn night like 3 in the morning#and is like sorry buddy will you take this to Thena?#lovesick things they are#Mandu is like bro are you serious right now??#Thena has a pure white carrier pigeon named Pearl
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I'm sure you'll get/have gotten other asks about this same thing, but I would love, love, love to know more about your ideas for a messy kidnap fam fic. :)
(also, accidently unfollowed when trying to hit the ask button. it's finally happened)
Ask me about my not-yet-written-fics from this list
The Messy Kidnap Fam Longfic
Under a cut for length
It all starts with Mae and Mags finding Elrond and Elros in Elwing's wardrobe post-oath-induced-rage fugue.
Elros and Elrond put up a hell of a fight to Not Get Taken and are absolutely convinced that a) Elwing has been murdered and b) they're also about to get murdered.
Maedhros gets bitten by Elros >:3
Mae and Mags have a debate about What To Do With them. I feel like maybe Mae initially is like "Put Those Back Where They Came From or So Help Me" at Mags, but the only idea they come up with is maybe leaving the twins at the edge of what's left of Sirion in the hopes that they'll be found (because if they tried to drop off the twins in person they'd get attacked on sight by Gil Galad and Cirdan). But Mae can't stop worrying that they'll die of exposure that way (he still feels awful about what happened to Elured and Elurin at Doriath).
They both realize at the exact same time that Elwing and Earendil Might Want Their Kids Back and Might Be Willing to Do A Lot to get them back, and so Elrond and Elros would be excellent hostages who could potentially be ransomed for a Silmaril.
So Elrond and Elros are very much hostages at this point. Mae and Mags do not really interact with them at all (save for Mags poking around in their minds to try and get some information out of them. Which Mae disapproves of but doesn't care enough about to stop him. He's in a bad way rn. Like his last other baby brother save Mags just died and he himself just participated in a massacre and he doesn't feel particularly good about it. They didn't even get a Silmaril and their own forces are fragmented post Sirion. My boy is barely keeping things together. They're together with duct tape and string at this point).
The twins are carted along the road back to Amon Ereb but kept under too heavy guard for them to be able to escape.
Also absolutely nobody in camp understands how to look after Peredhil. The twins do not get enough food to start with and they probably get sick from the elements, and this does go unnoticed for a WHILE.
They get back to Amon Ereb and are promptly put in a horrible little white room with a lock on the door. Again, Mae and Mags are not much interested with interacting with them at this point. Mags is a bit more interested but that's mostly because the twins remind him of Ambarussa and he's also emotionally unstable.
Mae sends ransom demands to Elwing, Earendil, and Gil-Galad, and they wait.
The twins are still hungry and sick, and convinced that they're gonna die. Also Mags keeps interacting with them and it's scary.
(They do get a window because keeping elves or elf adjacent beings away from view of the stars is unthinkably cruel, even for Mae and Mags. But they also still continue to be pretty neglected, and there is really nothing to do in that room. Elrond goes pretty catatonic at this point and Elros starts trying to tear holes through the drywall).
At some point it occurs to Mags and Mae that the twins are in poor condition and that's not really good when it comes to trying to ransom them.
They don't really know what to do though and so they consult some humans in their service, who are understandably like "uhhhhhhhhh they need more food and some medicine probably boss. Also it's kind of cold for them actually like sure it's fine for an elf but these are actual half-human babies).
Cue the twins finally getting some basic help. I have a vague idea that they bond with a human nurse that's sent in to look after them because Mae and Mags just cannot be bothered to Think About It.
Mae especially is pointedly staying away because it's too painful to be around the twins because a) they remind him of his brothers and b) they remind him of everything awful he's ever done and he can't handle that guilt.
Things continue to be Bad For A While.
Also I forgot to mention that Elrond and Elros have a poor grasp of Quenya at best, and so they really don't understand anything being said around them. They're picking it up fast though. Especially Elrond.
Finally a rejection of the ransom demands comes back.
What the fuck.
Mae absolutely goes into a rage over this because he literally does not know what else he can do. Because apparently Earendil and Elwing are on a boat somewhere with his father's Silmaril.
"What are we doing with the twins?"
Elrond and Elros are more convinced than ever that they're gonna get killed.
It's agreed that the twins should be dropped off somewhere to be found by Gil-Galad, and that trip begins. They likely send a letter to Gil-Galad announcing that they're returning the twins.
Gil-Galad has absolutely no reason to believe that the twins are alive and smells a trap. He does not come to pick up the twins.
Mae and Mags do watch (or have someone else watch) from a distance to make sure the twins are collected. The twins are not collected. The day wanes on into night. It gets really cold. The twins start bawling because they really think they're going to die now.
Mae really can't bear that and also at this point he's mad at everyone and everything.
They recollect the twins and decide that they're just going to have to look after them now until they're old enough to go back to Gil on their own.
Cue a very long tiptoe process of Mags getting attached to the twins and Mae refusing to (he's actually a big softie though so eventually he does).
I have way more ideas about later stages but this is already getting ridiculously long, sorry.
TLDR: (but I can elaborate more if people want me to): Mae and Mags finally start to get a grasp on Peredhil needs but wow is the damage done.
Elrond and Elros are veeeery slow to trust.
Super codependant relationship forms, with Elrond especially terrified of being left again because Mae and Mags are the only people who seem to want them now. Elrond starts emotionally regulating Mae and Mags just as much (if not more) than he used to for Elwing.
Mae and Mags get very attached to the twins and use them to cling to the last remnants of their personhood. This is not a good thing.
There's obviously more here I've thought this out very thoroughly.
Love grew between them but it was fucked from the start, essentially.
Also um something something the twins losing their Sindarin and not being raised in their Sindarin culture and essentially getting unintentionally completely colonized by Mae and Mags :/ icky and unavoidable.
#elrond#elros#maedhros#maglor#kidnap fam#do I think they loved each other? yeah#do I think they had a healthy relationship between the four of them? absolutely not#do I think that it permanently messed up Elrond and Elros? Yeah.#they carry that trauma the rest of their lives in subtle and not so subtle ways#Elrond does not fully regain fluent Sindarin until the second age#and his accent is permanently altered
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Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 11
Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10]
Read on AO3 [x]
Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader
Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care of Radagast, who is actually the ‘lost’ daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad.
Taglist: @hufflepuff1700 @jinlizz-dragondrama @firelightinferno @bubbleyukismile @coopsgirl @achromaticerebus @sleepyamygdala @smalltownbigheart @qmabailor @genderfluid-anime-goth
a/n: I’ve been a little behind on this one and I’m sorry!! My hyperfixation on another fic (and struggling to try and force myself to edit two first drafts of original novels) has made me blind to everything else which was obviously unintended when I started this, but I still have the outline in my drafts and I will finish it don’t worry.
The forest was quiet as Thranduil and his elk travelled beneath the trees. He was furious. No, he was absolutely livid. Who did Radagast think he was? Stupid wizards, always meddling. Thranduil knew deep down that Radagast did not intend to cause him true pain but, once more, his mind was seriously fixated upon that day in Lindon. The day he had witnessed the princess and the two queens die. However, his fury also stemmed from something else, something that neither had said but was very much present in his mind.
“-help her as your father would have wanted - as your mother would have wanted.”
Thranduil knew very well how his parents would want him to help her, particularly his mother. They would wish him to give the princess sanctuary and aid, which he knew was the correct thing to do and he would do it, but they would also wish him to honour the terms of the marriage they had arranged between the two. To strengthen the bonds between the Noldor and Sindar even further, which had really been one of the only things the two queens had ever wanted.
Thranduil would not, of course, force the princess into anything but... he knew without even having to ask that Radagast was already thinking it and that he could be crafty in getting his way, perhaps he was feeding the princess the story right this moment. Thranduil knew, too, how such a thing could work in everyone’s favour and he knew that it would honour the memory of all four of their parents, and perhaps help this girl who had been secreted away for well over 3,000 years without any titles, her name practically lost to history.
However, the source of his anger was not directed at the poor princess herself, not at the idea of marrying a complete stranger, but at what such an alliance would take from him.
You.
He recalled his thoughts of how he had never taken a queen, when the Enchantress revealed to Radagast her ire at his father’s apparent sin against her by not allowing her to marry his son. He recalled how his mind had conjured up the image of you, singing in the glade while picking berries, and he realised now why the thoughts had come to him - because he had quite obviously developed some sort of feelings towards you.
Thranduil came then to the clearing where he often met you, sliding from the back of his elk with a sigh as he looked around and realised that you weren’t here as he had hoped you would be. He stepped to the side and sat down upon a fallen log, leaning forward with his hands clasped, sitting for a time just staring down at the forest floor.
“You look gloomy.”
Thranduil quickly lifted his head at the sound of your voice, looking up just in time to see you stepping into the clearing. He smiled. “It has been a very long week...”
“Ah, so that’s why you haven’t come to see me.” You trilled, moving to sit next to him. You didn’t mean it in a bad way, you were not hurt by it or anything, but something in you had missed him greatly. You had become quite charmed by him and enjoyed the times you could spend in his company.
Thranduil chuckled. “I do apologise, my lady.” Running a kingdom was busy, he thought ruefully, though he still did not say it. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just tell you. Truthfully, he didn’t know what you must think of him, but he knew for sure you did not know he was the Elvenking. Perhaps you thought him a guard.
A soft laugh escaped your lips and you shook your head. “You don’t need to be sorry. I have perhaps become too used to your company.”
Since that first day Thranduil had come across you here, singing with the animals, he had probably come a lot more than he would normally otherwise have walked the forest. Something had just continued to pull him to you, and he had been drawn to this clearing of yours a number of times as the weeks had passed you both by. Then it had seemed only natural, it had become routine. He only wished he had not had the stress of the Enchantress and the past clouding the meetings, though he supposed now perhaps he should stop coming... the thought saddened him.
“Besides.” You continued, shooting him an amused glance. “We’ll always have our dreams.”
Thranduil laughed then, the first one since Radagast came to his halls and told him all about his last meeting with the Enchantress. He was pleased you remembered, truthfully, his silly little joke from before. Once upon a dream.
“Yes.” He chuckled, reaching out to take hold of your hand. “So we shall!”
As he took your hand, you were both suddenly struck by a most peculiar feeling that went jolting through the both of you. It felt like a real, tangible thing, a bolt of lightning. You quickly snatched your hand back in surprise and Thranduil frowned down at his own in confusion. “Did you...?”
You nodded, glancing up at him curiously. “What was that?”
“I do not know.” Thranduil muttered, pulling his hand back as he considered. It could not be... could it? He lifted his gaze and found your eyes on him. He smiled softly. “Lothíriel, I... I have come to greatly enjoy your company over these last weeks, and I...”
Here he trailed off and you wanted to push him to continue but all speech seemed to have been taken from you somehow. The clearing was silent for a long few moments then, the birds in the trees above poking their curious beaks down through the leaves to hear the king’s confession.
“I find you absolutely enchanting.” He admitted, looking back up at you. “From the very first day I saw you, I think I just... knew.” It seemed unfathomable to say such a thing, but a lot of elves had felt that way through history. Why, his own father had looked once upon his mother and instantly loved her as if he simply always had. It was as if their souls had known each other before they even met... and Thranduil suddenly came to the realisation that if he married Gil-Galad’s daughter then he would forever regret leaving you in this forest. He would always think of you, he wouldn’t be able to move on. That would not be fair to her, or to you, or to himself.
“Knew... what?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as you blinked back at him. You did not have much experience with others, or feelings like you were beginning to have, other than Thranduil... but you did not need to, really, as it seemed to sort of be a kind of instinctual thing.
Thranduil reached out to take your hand again, brushing his thumb gently over your palm. You shivered slightly and he lifted his gaze, meeting your eyes. “That I... that I am meant to love you.”
You could only stare at him in shock as the words passed his lips. “You... truly?!”
Thranduil nodded. “Truly.”
You were at a loss for what to say, not because you did not feel joyous or warm from the words he spoke, but simply because you were just no good at this. He did not seem to mind, almost as if he read what you were thinking in your eyes.
“Would you allow me the honour of courting you, my lady?” He ventured next.
You blinked at him, thinking that you should pinch yourself because it simply did not feel real. What could this interesting, worldly warrior possibly see in you?! Some random elleth who barely had any social skills the day he met her. You cast your mind over the time since then - every smile and lingering look - and you nodded, practically beaming at him. “Yes! I... I would like that very much.”
His smile grew slightly and you watched as he stood from the fallen log and extended an arm towards you.
“Dance with me.” He said suddenly, taking hold of your hands and pulling you to your feet.
You laughed and let yourself be pulled, and there in the clearing where you first met, you and he danced beneath the swaying blossom trees while the animals watched on.
That evening, you returned to the cottage with the brightest smile on your face. Your cheeks were rosy red and a blackbird was sitting atop your hair as you burst into the little house, causing Radagast to jump in the air and turn around very abruptly from his place at the counter. You were humming as you walked towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Good evening!” You smiled brightly as the blackbird jumped from your head down to the table. “Do you need any help?”
“What’s got you in such high spirits?” Radagast wondered. Why, you were practically floating!
A gleeful giggle escaped you as you reached for him, taking hold of his hands and pulling him into a little waltz across the kitchen floor. His steps were clumsy in contrast to your smooth ones but he couldn’t help but chuckle anyway, glad to see you happy... and safe. He had allowed you into the forest, though not without much back and forth in his own mind. However, he knew that soon you would be in Thranduil’s halls and would not have the same freedoms to visit your favourite places in this forest. Not until the Enchantress was gone.
You were humming as you danced with him and then you pulled back, smiling brightly at him as he watched you with curious eyes. “Oh, you’ll never guess!” You said, still a little nervous of his reaction but you knew that now was the time to tell him. “Wait until you meet him!”
“Him?” Radagast’s smile began to fade a little as he tilted his head at you. “What do you mean? Who? You have met some stranger?”
You shook your head, spinning on the spot once and then coming to a stop as you looked back the wizard. “Oh, no! No, he’s not a stranger. I mean... not anymore.” You clasped your hands together, truly hoping that Radagast would come to understand. “I have met him many times now, in the clearing. I should have told you, I’m sorry, but he is honourable. I swear. He wishes to court me, uncle! I promise, you do not have to worry! He’s coming tomorrow night, you can meet him and-”
Radagast, however, looked stricken. “Oh, my dear child...” He said sadly. “Oh, no... no. That can never be.”
You paused, your smile falling away, replaced by a soft frown. “What do you mean? Why not?”
“Well, you... you are already betrothed, my dear.” He said quickly. “From birth. To... to the Elvenking.”
“What?!” You could not understand his words because they quite simply made no sense. “No... h-how can I marry a king? I would have to be...”
“A princess.” Radagast said simply, watching the confusion on your face grow tenfold. “You are a princess.” He continued. “And I am sorry for keeping the truth from you but it was necessary. Please... listen to me.”
Radagast’s brow set into a deep frown as he looked back at you, the crestfallen look on your face, the hurt swimming in your eyes. Still, you didn’t run away and shut yourself in your room like you wished to. You stayed standing firmly before him as you waited for him to continue, to give you some explanation, willing him to make this all make sense.
Radagast sighed, his heart heavy with sorrow, for he knew that the time had now come to tell you everything.
#thranduil x reader#thranduil x you#thranduil fanfic#lotr x reader#thranduil fanfiction#sleeping beauty
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gil gil gilgilgil gil gil.
i had
omg
i had the best
the best
Okay so.
Soulmate Identifying Marks AU
ANGER MANAGEMENT STYLE
i am
i need it.
(don't feel pressured i might write it myself but also might not but i had to throw the idea to you)
Fam.
You got it.
[Read on AO3]
------
Jason never actually cared about his soulmark. Really. Why bother? He was poor, his parents' relationship was shitty (he later learned they weren't soulmates and Catherine sold him a pretty lie), and his life was complicated enough to add romance.
Once he became a vigilante at the tender age of thirteen, he understood that love was a luxury, and that having a soulmate at this point was a liability more than a blessing. A curse, even. He envied Dick, who didn't have a soulmate mark, and who loved freely and without hesitation; he envied Bruce, who loved intensely and burned just as bright.
He just. He couldn't do it.
So he chose to ignore it. Sometimes he hated it, sometimes it felt like a shackle to a complete stranger, someone he was supposed to tie himself to-
(Someone that didn't belong in his world. Crimefighters and civilians were not a good idea.)
- so he just scrubbed at the damn ink on his skin when he got pissed at it, and covered with long sleeved clothes when he wanted to ignore it.
And then he died.
He was surprised to discover his mark was still there after coming back to himself post-bathing in the Lazarus Pits. He lowkey had hoped his soulmate was free from the connection the moment his heart stopped beating. But it was still there.
It was a bird. Ironic.
A freaking bluejay.
It was still colorful, it has all the details, no matter what he did about the mark. His soulmate was still there on the other side, waiting, biding their time. He wondered if their mark became a black silhouette like it did when partners died. He wondered if that stranger was holding hope or gave up on him already.
(He hoped they did. Giving up on him was the best option.)
When years passed and he didn't find anybody with a matching tattoo, blacked out or not, he tried to forget about it again. Holding hope was useless, and he had more important things to do. Dick eventually stopped asking about it, when they were back on speaking terms. Bruce still gave it pained looks when he visited the Cave.
That's why when a woman sat down on his table and hid her face behind a binder, he didn't notice the picture on it at first glance.
"Hello?" He put down the cup of coffee and sat straighter. It was never a bad idea to be wary.
"Um." The woman lowered the binder enough to look around the quaint café. She turned and checked the window, but if there was someone there she wouldn't be seen. That's why Jason liked this table, it was the best strategic point. "Sorry, I..."
"Hiding from an ex?"
The woman rolled her eyes, setting the binder back on the table. "Try a creepy coworker."
She tried to downplay it, but by her body language she was more affected than what she let on. He was interested in her story immediately. No woman was going to be stalked on his watch.
"Did you try the police?"
She looked at him like he was crazy. "Police doesn't do shit in Gotham."
Her sharp tone and eyes made him smile immediately. "Have you tried kicking him in the nuts?"
The unknown woman arched an eyebrow and untied her tight bun, massaging her scalp for a second, revealing long natural red hair. Jason noticed her white shirt, so she may be coming back from work. An office? He wondered where she worked. He could try and find out and then identify this creepy coworker-
"Hard to do that when she doesn't have a pair of those." The woman snorted. "My stalker is a woman."
"My mistake. Have you tried kicking her anyway?"
She made a face as if she didn't know what to do with him, but laughed at his comment. He smiled back, glad to see her relax after the scare.
"Thanks. I really needed the laugh, stranger." She made a move to stand up. "I'll leave you alone now."
He nodded, making a note to follow her and find as much information as he could about this stalker.
His eyes wandered to the picture taped to the front of her binder.
A bluejay.
"Wait." He extended a hand, catching her-
It was like an electric current coursed through him, from the palm of the hand that touched her forearms to the tip of his toes. He knew she felt it too, because she froze where she stood, her eyes glued to his hand on her person.
He had to let her go, he knew, but he couldn't. He really couldn't. He knew what this meant, and yet he didn't want to believe.
"Where did you get that?"
It took a moment to come back to reality and process her words. She was looking at his arm, her free hand hovering over the hem of the jacket her had rolled up to be comfortable. The shape of the tail of the bird was in plain sight.
He could lie and say it was a tattoo. That he thought bluejays were cool. He could say so many things.
He didn't need to say any of those lies.
The woman put the binder back on the table and rolled up the sleeve of her sensible white shirt, on the same arm he had his mark. He knew what he would see, what he could see, but it didn't prepare him to the sight of the same bluejay shape blacked out.
"I cried for you. I felt you die."
Her eyes were haunted with memories. What could he say? What could he explain?
"I should have looked harder for you." She narrowed her eyes. "I knew I could still sense you, but I didn't want to hope..." She trailed off, biting her lip.
"It's okay. People shouldn't be running around chasing ghosts." He understood her. Really. Holding hope for the impossible could be dangerous.
The woman smiled at his words, truly smiled, amusement morphing her expression like the turning of a page. She sat back down and extended her hand.
"Jasmine Fenton. Professional ghost hunter. Or was." She rolled her eyes. "I was taking a break now, actually."
Jason tried to gauge if she was joking. But she was completely serious.
Huh.
"Jason Todd." He shook her hand anyway, barely stopping when the electric current made an appearance again.
"Like the dead socialite?"
She did her homework.
"Yeah." It was his time to be amused. "Just like him."
He smiled back at her, and it felt right. Like coming back for air after being underwater for too long. Like feeling the sun warming your skin for the first time after a long winter.
He always found the soulmate talk boring, and in his darkest hours, pathetic. He would never experience that, and romance was for those that could afford it, so why care?
But now, touching her, seeing her smile and her teal eyes that hid many secrets, Jason decided that those people were very off about their descriptions - and very right at the same time.
So he just ignored everything he thought he knew about soulmates and tried to remember if he had the rest of his day free, since he apparently had a soulmate to get to know.
---
Hate the ending, might rewrite it.
Bone apple teeth.
Also I hc Jason as aspec if it wasn't obvious here.
Do you like my stuff? Buy me a Ko-fi!
#gil answers#chromatographic#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#anger management ship#soulmate au#jazzxjason#jazz/jason#aspec Jason
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GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....
EPILOGUE.
A beast’s dream fulfilled by beauty.
translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.
spoilers from gilbert's route.
trigger warning: mildly suggestive
minors and ageless blogs dni.
While I want to respect Emma’s desire to make friends in Obsidian,
I find myself wishing she wouldn't be able to make friends for the rest of her life.
(Maybe it's because I'm like this that I couldn't make friends in the true sense of the word.)
Emma: ——So, can I go back to town tomorrow?
Gilbert: Yeah, no.
Emma:….I'm allowed to make friends, right?
Gilbert: Nope.
Gilbert: I've given you permission, but I'm not going to let you cut back on your time with me, okay?
Gilbert: I endured it today. You're not going to make me endure day after day, are you?
Emma:……
(This face...you’re making me think about what to do with you.)
I know that if I allow her to make friends, I will have to bend.
Despite such assertions of reason and conscience, I pushed Emma down on the table and——
Gilbert: If you really want to go…..
Gilbert:….You know what I mean? // You understand what I mean, don't you?
(I need you to put me in a good mood.) // (I need you to take care of me.)
I untied the ribbon of her black dress that was wrapped around her and forcefully opened the collar.
I buried my face in her neck and sucked hard on her skin, and a cute voice escaped from her tiny lips.
Emma: To do in a place like this….
Gilbert: Eh, not enough?
Pressing my lips on the other side of her neck, leaving a dark mark on her skin.
The marks, which were scattered in positions that could not be concealed even by high-collared clothing, were not likely to disappear for some time.
Gilbert: You know what? People always carry an impression of you from the first time they meet you.
Gilbert: What would your first impression be if you went out looking for friends now?
(No matter who you meet, you'll get an embarrassing imagination.)
As I licked the marks, Emma’s body stiffened.
Emma:….I can't go out like this.
Gilbert: Is that so? Poor little thing.
Emma: Gil…..
Gilbert: I'm just overflowing with love.
Emma looks away, embarrassed.
(I think that's the part she’s supposed to be upset about.)
Emma:….If that's the way you want to play it, I have an idea.
Gilbert: Hmm?
Emma sits up and wraps her arms around my neck.
Just when I thought I was being hugged, Emma pressed her lips to mine.
A few shyly pecked kisses were frustrating,
Invitingly opening my mouth so that Emma will respond in kind.
It was so comfortable that our tongues were intertwined, and it fueled feelings that I did not want to let go of.
(I feel like this has the opposite effect….)
While Emma is engrossed in the kiss, I pull the dress down to her waist.
Emma, who would normally be shy, showed little resistance today.
But when I put my hand on her breast, the kiss didn't last long.
Emma:….Aaah…..
Gilbert: What is your "idea"?
When I asked while pinching her nipples, Emma lowered her eyes.
Emma: My fiancé is a lonely person….
Emma: I thought I should pack a lot of love so that you won't be lonely even when we are apart for a while.
Gilbert: Hehe, you really know how to please me, don't you?
When I bite into her swollen breast, Emma frustratingly grabs my cloak.
Gilbert: But I'm a glutton, so I'm not sure how much love you can stuff into me.
Gilbert: After all, you may not have time to make friends.
Emma:…..
Gilbert: You don't like it?
Emma: No way. I know Gil is that kind of person.
Emma: But I'm still here because I love you.
(…..As always.)
Emma stroked my hair soothingly, not resisting as I fondled her breasts.
Emma:….I know Gil doesn't like it.
Emma: Still, please let me spread my connections.
Emma: I want to love the country of Obsidian even more.
Gilbert:….Is that what you truly want?
Emma nods and raises an eyebrow.
(…..You….)
(I knew it. You’re just the same old me.)
I had been betrayed so many times that I had forgotten all about it,
At the time my mother and brother were killed, I hated and loathed Obsidian.
However, as a member of the royal family, I cannot fulfill my duties while hating my country.
I wanted to have a lot of friends because I wanted to try to make them like me somehow.
I thought that the pure feelings I had back then had already been lost,
Now, it's shining again in front of me.
(——I’ve decided to believe in you.)
(I'm not a child, so I can't afford to mess around forever.)
Perhaps realizing that the atmosphere had changed, Emma smiled and covered her mouth on mine again.
Fueled by a clumsy kiss, I grabbed her both legs and forced them open.
Emma: Aahh…in a place like this——
Gilbert: I want to have sex right here, okay? I don’t want anyone to see that lewd face of yours while we head back to my room.
Gilbert: I don't kill people just because I like them either, you know?
(I'm a disaster for you. But you like that, don't you?)
I pulled up the hem of her dress to her stomach and stirred the wet nectar between her legs with my fingers.
(No matter how many friends Emma makes from now on….)
(I'm the only one allowed to do this, so I have to be tolerant to some extent.)
(….Well, I guess it's impossible.)
When Emma’s body is softened, I penetrate her, and her expression becomes glamorous and twisted.
She hugged me so tightly that I could hardly catch my breath, and I hugged her back in response.
Gilbert: Hey—— you're the only one who would never betray me.
Gilbert: Even if you make friends, will you still love me?
Emma nodded repeatedly, trying to swallow the heat more deeply.
Emma: Please…don't mix/lump me with your old friends.
Gilbert: That's true, too. Because you're my fiancée.
(If you can expand your connections and get people to say you love Obsidian, that's a good thing….)
(Maybe I can learn to love this rotten country, too.)
(What I wanted when I was a child was something so warm.)
▸ [ previous ]
#ikemen prince#ikepri#ikemen prince spoilers#ikepri jp#ikepri translations#ikemen series#cybird#gilbert von obsidian#ikepri gilbert
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What is their go-to drink order?
First of, let's assume everyone is of legal drinking age, whatever that might be.
It's sixteen. If Ben can be a High King at sixteen, he can bloody well drink. I'm not taking criticism on that one.
Unsurprisingly though, Ben has never had as much as a champagne.
And Jane is stuck drinking kiddie fake-champagnes well into her twenties.
Now Audrey? Oh well. Her favourite is rosè, champagne, Skinny Bitch (vodka & soda) and Pink Gin & Tonic. If you pick an aesthetic, you bloody commit to it.
If she's doing shots with the pirates, she gets vodka, because Audrey post Queen of Mean is that bitch and fears no god. She could also do silver tequila.
Chad can't hold his liquor. He just can't. He has one (1) cider//Frisko and is crying. Audrey is suffering.
Anthony Tremaine gets some fancy brandy or whiskey on rocks. Again, Aesthetic, duh. Once he got this for Ginny Gothel and died a little inside when she declared that it doesn't taste any good and proceeded to pour Cola into it. Guess who learned to never ever do this the hard way.
Harriet Hook. Uuh. She has Problems. We know that, right?
On the Isle, she usually drinks Energy drinks with vodka, because she needs to stay awake, duh. Also rum, 'cos pirates, and red wine, 'cos Aesthetic.
If it's before noon, she gets a Mimosa, so she can feel fancy. Also espresso with vodka. Gin & Tonic.
Basically, you name it, chances are Harriet Hook has drunk it at least once.
She'd just like to forget and not feel, savvy??
Harry prefers rum and dislikes wine. He just has the vibes. Unless it's mulled wine which smells way better.
Uma also orders rum. She, however, really likes Pina Colada, but she won't order it herself, (because tough pirate Captain can't enjoy sugary long drinks, duh).
Don't worry though, Gil gets it for her every time he is getting them drinks.
Uma also doesn't pay for her own drinks, like, ever.
Gil likes ciders the best, even over beer, for which his father and brothers ridicule him. He doesn't care, though. He will also do shots of rum with the rest of the pirates.
CJ doesn't drink.
She has seen her family's hungovers and decided she is not doing thaz, thank you. She also dislikes the idea of losing the already poor control over her mind any more. It might not look like it, but CJ is a bit of a control freak.
Freddie Facilier drinks only when someone buys the drink for her. In which case, she'd choose a Chupito, a sweet shot with rum, lime liquor and cocktail cherry.
Celia Facilier doesn't drink and good for her.
Dizzy Tremaine is not allowed to drink. She doesn't particularly wish to, though.
Ginny Gothel mostly drinks wine, and if there is more fancy option available, she'll get Calvados (fancy apple liquor. It's good.) She is also not opposed to drinking Harriet's Red Bull with vodka though.
Claudine Frollo (once adopted by the Hooks). She also has problems, which, in this case, manifests as getting her drinks as vile as possible.
Campari Orange, as bitter as her soul. She can also pass it for an orange juice if she wanted. She's a hypocrite. (Campari Orange is legit good though). On similar note, Skinny Bitch, without the lime. She will do shots of pure vodka and drink Slammed-Tequila (shot of Tequila & shot of Sprite & ice), which is the most vile substance I have ever tasted. It feels like kerosene.
...Mal can't drink. I'm not taking criticism on that.
Evie and Carlos can do shots of pure vodka. Evie likes champagne more, though. She also has a vendetta against red wine, which was her mother's drink of choice, because it looks like blood, duh. Oh, and Aperol Spritz! (She and Audrey should be allowed to gossip and/or plan murder over a glass of Aperol. Ginny too. They'd vibe.)
Technically, Jay and Jade aren't allowed to drink for their own safety. Not because they'd drink too much, but because they insist on taking their usual Anything-but-the-pavement route no matter what.
One time, after some shots of Tequila, they convinced Audrey to go with them. She almost broke her neck, which might be because she refused to take off her high heels.
#disney descendants#tw alcohol#i just had Thoughts okay?#ben florian#jane descendants#audrey rose#chad charming#anthony tremaine#harriet hook#ginny gothel#harry hook#uma descendants#gil descendants#claudine frollo#cj hook#freddie facilier#celia facilier#dizzy tremaine#mal bertha#carlos de vil#evie grimhilde#jay son of jafar
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"Ashen Stark"
Age 30, Seeker of the Sun. Black hair with grey streaks.
Pirate and pirate hunter, bounty hunter, Maelstrom renegade.
Skilled in various combat disciplines; recent information tells that his weapon-of-choice lately has been the gunblade.
Known to be violent and ruthless.
Bounty rating: EXTREMELY DANGEROUS
Reward: 500,000,000 gil
-
"Five hundred million...am I truly that cheap to them?"
The dark-haired miqo'te chuckled to himself, pulling his cloak hood up further, shadows of the fabric obscuring his scarred face. He turned from the bounty board towards the tavern door, stalking through the dense crowds to return to his sloop.
The weather was rainy, but not unmanageable to one well-versed in the shipman's arts. A grizzled roegadyn stood at a booth guarding the docks, eyeing up each sailor as they returned to their vessels.
The cloaked miqo'te took his turn, standing at attention before the booth, tail flicking anxiously. This was a doomed quest from the start; stepping foot into a den of bounty hunters with a sizeable bounty on one's head was not his smartest idea.
"Oi catboy, remove th' hood, lemme see yer face," the roegadyn demanded, squinting through the curtain of rain at the miqo'te's hooded visage.
The miqo'te's eyelid twitched the slightest bit in irritation, and he put on his most placating voice, clasping his hands together and nodding for emphasis; "I've not the time for that, mate, you can see me just fine. Now just let me out to my ship so I can return to the route, I'm going to be late for the shipment-"
With a loud bang the roegadyn slammed his fist on the desk, leaning far forward out of the booth to glare directly into the miqo'te's golden pools with his own beady orbs. "I'on like ya all that much, lad. An' ye know what we do 'round this port to folks the dockmanager don't like?" he growled, loud enough to catch the attention of nearby sailors and bounty hunters, who all began to watch over their mugs of ale. The roegadyn reached forward, snatching at the miqo'te's hood and yanking it back, revealing his telltale scarred face.
"It's Stark! Off yer arses, boys! We have a cat to string up!" Recognizing his face almost immediately from the bounty posting, the dockmaster let out a shout, loud enough to be heard across the docks even over the rainfall. With battle shouts to match, nearly every other sailor and bounty hunter sprang from their seats, spilling ale in their haste to draw their weapons and make to the docks.
Ashen let out a grunt of annoyance, expertly chopping at a nerve on the dockmanager's wrist, before sprinting down the docks to his sloop. The cracks of gunfire joined the cacophony of shouting and clatter of boots on wood, bullets whizzing past the miqo'te; a few pierce through the fabric of his cloak, nearly grazing his arm.
"Bloody fucking- oh Lizbeth is going to kill me for getting holes in this cloak..." he groaned between breaths, drawing his gunblade, slashing the rope securing his sloop to the dock, and kicking off the moment he lands from leaping into the vessel.
A few sea dogs manage to reach him, but deft slashes from Ashen's gunblade dispatch them with terrifying efficiency. One overconfident bounty hunter leaps from the dock to the retreating sloop, but Ashen launches a swift roundhouse kick to his torso, launching the poor soul into the water. Ashen takes quick notice of some of the crowd trying to board their own ships in pursiot, and with a laugh he pulls a grenade from his coat, lighting it with a small flick of fire aether, and pitching it onto the dock where it explodes in a magnificent firework; the sparks catch onto the sails of the docked ships even through the rain, and after mere moments the docks became much, much brighter.
Sailing off into the dark, uneasy waters, Ashen breathes a sigh of relief. This escape was far too narrow for it's own good. "Not a single damned parchment...he must have the entire hunter's underbelly in his hand." he sighs, punching into his fist. Glaring out into the moonlit waters, he raises sail, taking up the oar handles and beginning to row. Golden eyes glinting in the dark, only one singular thought resonates within the back of his mind;
"I will find you, Dread Captain of the Flame, and I will have your head."
-
#Ashenverse#ffxiv#final fantasy xiv#ff14#final fantasy 14#final fantasy#ffxiv oc#ffxiv wol#ffxiv gpose#ffxiv screenshots#original character#stories#pirates
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SO
GHOULIAN
GHOST GILLION SPECIFICS AND IDEAS IVE HAD ABT HIM I LOVE HIM DEARLY AND HEEEE:
-wears a really poorly knit sweater! when he was discovered aboard the albatross by gryffon (?) Gil told him that he was freezing cold in his normal clothes, that they itched, that they were horrible. long story short, ollie and his mom knitted Gil a sweat, but because she's sick and he's just a kid, it has huge gaps and several different kinds of wool and cloth all spliced together into a poor quality sweater. gil wont have it any other way!
-loves music! Arts were a luxury that the undersea trained out of him. He loves them dearly. He was never one for fighting as a child, more prone to loving animals and sketching beautiful scenes and reading stories, but music is his favorite (specifically heavy metal or rock which were ESPECIALLY not allowed in the Undersea (fuckin emo (endearingly)))
-loves SCIENCE and HISTORY!
-against the man! fight the machine! very stubborn in his ideals against anything that effects the rights of the people and freedom of expression
-NATURE NO NURTURE!!! REmembers nothing but what he is born enjoying, absolutely static. like a blank slate. Never reacts when people yell or scream at him, feels no pain, gains no trauma or memory.
-Reacts poorly when the crew brings up Alive Gil. Ghoulian fuckin hates him. He likes who he is now, why should he be replaced? What happened was meant to happen, surely, and to go back on that would be against fate.
-Believed in destiny from the beginning. Toward the recent episodes (109-111) He adapted the saying 'it is what it is' but I still firmly believe that is the effect of his crew being so casual about so much change (WE ARE TAKING AWAY POSITIVE EFFECTS FROM THE ALBATROSS AS WELL AS NEGATIVES FROM ELDERS--- HE IS A BLANK SLATE)
-wears glasses. i already made a post about this.
-SHORT HAIR (I COULD MAKE A WHOLE NEW POST LMK IF YOU WANT ONE AB GILS HAIR)
-people pleaser
-curious
-wants to know everything
-gets frustrated easily
-not afraid anymore
-he's NOT BLUE. there are still the marks of the illness, causing him to have pale purple-red skin and black veins, his markings have turned deep black, almost carved into him. ofc hes transparent. his hair floats and fades away, his skin rolls off of him in wisps like mist
-terrifying
that is all (for now) :)
thinking of making a fic ab this tbh
#gillion tidestrider#jrwi riptide#jrwi#jrwi chip#just roll with it#jrwi fnc#jrwi jay#jrwi au#jrwi riptide au#ghoulian#GHOST GILLION TIDESTRIDER#I LOVE HIM ENDLESSLY#COULD GO ON FOREVER
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Friends to Lovers prompt with who other than the Beloved Ardyn!
Sharing clothes in a friendly way.
If you Ardyn lovers say you haven't thought about stealing his coat and wearing it, you're lying. I have had so many people come to the same consensus. We all think about it, HA!
@sillylittlevulpine Okay...I indulged A LOT on this one (in my defense, I needed it as much as it was requested). Hope you like it!
Y/N had been staring at Ardyn’s long coat for what seemed like an eternity, debating with themself. The article should’ve been put up a while ago. Instead, the coat was laid out on the floor along with other garments that had been cleaned and mended.
Curiosity and resentment had built up in Y/N ever since they were assigned to this task. Folding and tidying up the Chancellors' wardrobe was not what they signed up for. Come to think of it, Y/N believed Ardyn didn’t make the request in the first place. From previous conversations, he seemed to pride himself on taking care of most of his personal items. The only time Y/N had encountered behavior to the contrary, was when Ardyn wanted to indulge in food and wine, especially when he wasn’t in the mood to make anything himself.
This had to be the Imperial Keepers' idea…Y/N thought bitterly to themself. It made sense the longer Y/N thought it through. If Y/N didn’t know better, the Imperial Keeper probably did it to add further insult to injury them, on account they had come down with a nasty cold during the week and had been slow with duties. There was also the spat that happened between Ardyn and the Keeper. The latter having been slighted, purposefully by Ardyn to prove a rather crude point to his colleagues. In all honesty, with the rotten attitude the Imperial Keeper had that day, Y/N thought he deserved it.
“The jerk weaponized me as a biohazard to the Chancellor,” Y/N muttered to themself, letting their conclusion sink in. It made sense. Why else send an obviously sick attendant to take care of a higher-ups personal items even though it was out of character for those services to be requested?
“I should leave. Have someone else do it. Screw points getting docked.” Y/N said aloud, but then they found themself back in the conundrum that had them stuck on Ardyn’s living room floor in the first place. The resentment had come and gone, now curiosity came flooding back.
Y/N’s tired eyes combed over the material of the jacket, admiring the stitchwork and the different textures complimenting each other. They recalled Ardyn telling them long ago that it was customized just for him. He certainly wasn’t lying. The tiny details here and there was evidence that whoever made it had very careful hands and machine-like focus.
The coat wasn’t the most expensive thing Y/N had come across while being in service to the empire, but the reputation it got from its owner was enough to make Y/N scared of ruining it by touch, even though the poor garment had seen better days. Y/N lost count of how many times Ardyn had to get the coat mended because he got into an altercation, or didn’t bother to take it off when going into hostile land. One would think he didn’t care much for it, but Y/N remembered Ardyn’s wrath when someone tried to pawn it off for gil after stealing it. He was stuck in his chambers for two whole days while people searched for the thief. It was quite the tantrum over a material good, however, Y/N figured it held some strong sentimental value. Plus, it looked warm and inviting. Something Y/N desperately needed at the moment.
Y/N’s body shuddered from the fever they had been enduring. They hated this. How one moment their body would feel boiling hot, then would feel so cold it was as if Shiva herself resurrected and brought another age of ice upon Eos. The goosebumps down their arms felt like tiny mosquito bites, and they coughed into their arm horribly as their temps began to cool off once more.
Ardyn and the rest of the Imperial Council were currently in session. Those meetings tended to last several hours. There were still two hours left before Y/N’s next assignment would be put in place by the Imperial Keeper, so they had plenty of downtime. Maybe…Y/N thought to themself. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt anything if they put it on for a bit, just to get warm again.
“Gods be damned,” Y/N sighed, closing their eyes and bitterly huffed before grabbing the coat.
Ardyn let out a deep breath when he approached the doors to his chambers, rubbing his eyes for a moment. After enduring a half hour of old men fighting over scraps when it came to the war budget, he promptly conjured a tall tale to get out of staying put. Somehow Aldercapt approved and he made a beeline for the doors.
“You are not leaving me alone with senile degenerates,” Verstael whispered with contention as Ardyn walked past his chair. The infighting was so loud, that no one paid the side conversation any mind.
“My dear friend, you're an old-timer among the flock yourself!” Ardyn mused, putting a hand on his peer’s shoulder, earning a raised brow from Verstael as he looked up to meet Ardyn’s mischievous grin. “You might as well be insulting the years of wisdom that show decadently upon your wrinkled face!”
“Hmpf,” Verstael narrowed his eyes, shaking his head and he slapped Ardyn’s hand away. His right eye twitched from the chuckle that escaped his colleague. “Funny you call me such a thing when you should be dust at this rate.”
“True as that may be,” Ardyn began. “Between the two of us old men, I’m the better-looking one.”
“You better leave before we not only have a mutiny among the council, but a homicide as well.”
“And I’m off!” Ardyn chuckled, giving a sarcastic wave with his right hand before departing.
The memory had Ardyn amused for a time in the present. It was enough to pull him out of his negative thoughts from before, now focusing on things that gave him pleasure. Taking a nap after nursing a bottle of wine was starting to become more enthralling by the second, and he wasted no time venturing into his abode.
Ardyn had done this so many times, that he didn’t initially know he wasn’t by himself. He started going through his routine; taking off his vest and discarding it followed by his red scarf. He hung them up on a hook nearby, then started thinking about his jacket; wondering if it had been returned from the cleaners yet. That’s when Ardyn stopped midway taking off his hat, hearing a noise coming from his television set in his living room. He put his hat back on, and cautiously began to tiptoe toward the noise, bracing himself for the possibility of a fight.
To Ardyn’s surprise and shock, he saw Y/N sitting on the couch, leaning forward toward the TV. His coat snugged around their body like an oversized blanket, as if he had never been its proper owner. To say he was speechless was an understatement. No one ever had the gall to get this comfortable in his personal quarters and he became greatly amused at the sight.
Ardyn decided to let the silence play out for a little while, making observations while he ventured close without making a sound up until he cleared his throat.
“I see you’ve made yourself at home.” Ardyn sarcastically stated, making his presence known upon arriving at the back of the couch.
“Shit!” Y/N exclaimed. They attempted to scramble off the couch, only to fall over themselves in a clumsy fashion, while quickly grabbing for the remote and turning the television off. Panting heavily, they quickly spun and looked up at Ardyn. Y/N watched him raise a brow, smiling like he caught someone red-handed while he crossed his arms.
“I--can explain this,” Y/N gestured at the coat. “I promise I wasn’t going to steal--”
“My attire looks rather fetching on you,” Ardyn interrupted. His eyes scanned Y/N over and his smile grew. “I’m almost jealous you’re outperforming me.”
“What?” Y/N flatly blurted and furrowed their brows. “You’re not upset?”
“Far from it,” Ardyn smirked. “Of all the things I could’ve come home to, I’d rather deal with an Imperial Help trying on my clothes for kicks than an assassin wanting to present my head to the King of Lucis. Although I’ve grown fond of our conversations, Y/N, I don’t recall requiring your services for the day. Come to think of it, I don’t believe we were to see one another until the weekend. Did you miss me that much?”
"You wish..." Y/N rolled their eyes playfully and sighed, feeling relief wash over them at the fact he wasn’t enraged. Had this been Verstael, or anyone else, the consequences would’ve been costly.
“The Imperial Keeper said you needed help with your laundry today. I figured he was lying, but I came out of obligation.” Y/N shrugged.
“How dutiful of you,” Ardyn quipped. He briefly glared, making a mental note to have a word with the Keeper at a later date. Ardyn focused suddenly on Y/N’s features, noting their color looked more dull than usual, followed by their body tremoring under his coat.
“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, breaking Ardyn out of his observations.
“You’re unwell.”
“Am I that obvious?” Y/N teased, then sniffled and almost felt themself sneeze.
“You’d certainly give a fresh corpse a run for its gil.” Ardyn chuckled darkly, enjoying the brief glare Y/N shot at him before they began coughing, and instinctively he took a step forward. Ardyn only stopped when Y/N gestured with their free hand for him to halt.
“I don’t want to get you sick,” Y/N said in between fits. “I can take your coat to the cleaning center, and get it decontaminated.”
“There’s no need for such hysterics,” Ardyn waved them off and approached Y/N’s personal space. He didn’t give them any time to react before he felt their forehead and then checked their pulse. “I don’t get sick easily like most. However, I am curious as to why the Imperial Keeper would send someone of your ailment my way. Feeling hot and cold?”
“Uh huh,” Y/N nodded, recoiling a little from Ardyn’s touch due to sensitivity. “I think he wanted me to get you sick if I’m being honest. He didn't take too kindly to being thrown under a bus at the emperor's reception.”
“Well, he’s going to be in for a rude awakening,” Ardyn said as a matter of fact. His tone was bordering between sinister and playful. He took note of Y/N’s fear, and his expression softened after he finished assessing. “Do you have other obligations today?”
“I have a councilmen’s filing cabinet to clean out, and a few beds to make.” Y/N breathed. “Why do you ask?”
“I must implore you to stay and rest here.”
“Here?”
“Why not? You seemed to be getting on quite well making use of my home for your own enjoyment.” Ardyn said playfully with a shrug.
“The Imperial Keeper--”
“Can kiss both our asses for all I care,” Ardyn finished, leaving Y/N speechless at his bold proclamation. “I’m not sending you away when you clearly have a fever. That wouldn’t sit well on my conscience.”
“I thought you didn’t like people. You said so yourself a few days ago that company drains you.”
“That remains true as ever, alas,” Ardyn paused and he smiled while his right hand cupped Y/N’s face. His thumb carefully stroked over their cold skin and his eyes sadly glanced over their features. “You are in no such category.”
“Oh…”
Dumbfounded didn’t quite capture how Y/N felt at the moment, but it was close. The only thing Y/N could really focus on was how warm his touch was, and how their pulse seemed to skyrocket at the act. As soon as it began, Ardyn retreated his hand away and took a step back, and Y/N foolishly found themself missing the contact.
Their eyes focused on Ardyn as his right hand began rubbing at his chin. His gaze became scrutinizing as if he was judging a piece of art. Y/N didn’t know if they should’ve felt flattered or scared. Maybe both.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ah, it’s nothing too drastic I assure you, but I am finding that although my coat suits you well, it’s missing something that ties it all together,” Ardyn said as a matter of fact. He wasted no effort in taking off his hat, and with care, he placed it on top of Y/N’s head.
“There we go! The wardrobe crisis has been averted!”
The hat sunk a little on Y/N initially, and they used their left thumb to prop it back up. They laughed, feeling their face turning red at Ardyn’s action. He too chortled, looking impressed with himself up until Y/N appeared to be frightened.
“You look as if the Gods will smite you at any second.” Ardyn pointed out.
“You're more open minded to classes mingling than others. I think we both know had this been any other councilmen or the emperor, I wouldn’t be standing. Especially if I was caught trying on their clothes.”
“True,” Ardyn nodded. “Yet here you are.”
“Here I am.”
A calm silence fell between Y/N and Ardyn as they fondly looked upon the other. It was only when Ardyn guided Y/N to the couch did both break away from the spell. He lay down and got comfortable, and calmly guided Y/N to lie against him. He could sense their apprehension and spoke up.
“I can run cold unlike most people,” Ardyn paused, reminding himself not to get too comfortable revealing his secrets. “Between the coat and myself, you’ll have an easier time resting.”
“Isn’t this overstepping several boundaries?” Y/N murmured against his chest. Sure enough, he was true to his word: it was as if on cue, Ardyn had gone from feeling like a warm furnace to a cold sheet that had been left to dry in the bitter wind. It was eerie, the whole thing, but their mind and body were too tired and miserable to think any deeper about it. The exhaustion from the long day, on top of the excitement from earlier, had Y/N feeling drowsy.
“Yes as a matter of fact,” Ardyn murmured and closed his eyes. “Alas, no one’s here to bear witness so it doesn’t matter. What happens in my chambers, stays in my chambers. However, if you’re uncomfortable, you can retreat to my room. I won’t disturb you while I remain here. I was planning to take a nap anyway.”
“I can’t hog your bed,” Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and closed. Their mind was being lulled to rest by how cool Ardyn felt, and how cozy his jacket felt against them. “What about the Imperial Keeper?”
“I’ll deal with it. You won’t receive consequence, I assure you.”
“What about--”
“Y/N,”
“Yes?”
“Be a dear and hush. You're not the only one who had a long and dreary day dealing with men who are vultures.” He commanded bluntly.
Y/N’s eyes finally gave into the weight and shut, all the while their lips smiled so big from his remark it began to hurt for a time. The last thing they could recall before drifting off into unconsciousness, was the rumbling of Ardyn’s chest when he laughed at their weak chuckle.
As soon as Ardyn felt Y/N fall asleep, he opened his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. Frustration graced his amber hues while his right arm wrapped around Y/N’s body. This little friendship wasn’t supposed to get to this point. Ardyn had a feeling Y/N thought the same thing. He wondered how much longer it would be before someone in court caught onto the special treatment he freely gave to them. He also wondered how long it would be before Y/N would discover what he really was. That made Ardyn more uneasy than the former and his mind began to travel. All it would take is one slip-up, one mistake to undo his mask.
It became clear that Ardyn wouldn’t get that nap he yearned for after all, and he resided himself to his fate.
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#drabbles#ardyn izunia#ardyn lucis caelum#ardyn x reader#ardyn x gn reader#ffxv ardyn#final fantasy xv#final fantasy 15#final fantasy xv ardyn#gender neutral reader#male reader#female reader#nonbinary reader#reader x canon#reader x character
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House-hunting with Gilbert
modern/domestic au, crack, sexual content
MDNI
He wears a v-neck sweater for this. Not because he likes it (he does), or because it's weather-appropriate (it's not), but because he enjoys the thought of you going through the entire day wondering why he chose to wear it. You learn sometime around sunset that he just really likes v-neck sweaters.
And khaki pants. It's the early 2000s. You have khaki pants too. You're twinning in the worst way. Unless you're a fan of khaki pants. Then you're twinning in the best way.
The neighborhood in question is a quiet, established suburb with some of the houses veering into three stories. Like a tale told in three acts, you say, in pursuit of some deeper meaning to the droll task of house-hunting. Gilbert laughs, and it sounds like drops of rain bouncing off a tin bucket someone left under a leaky roof. Interpret that however you wish. He enjoys your adorable insights. This he makes known to astounding effect by back-hugging you and whispering into your ear in the most not-rated-G way while you're in the middle of maintaining flustered, steely-eyed, serious-adult eye-contact with the balding real estate agent.
Tiles are important. Bathroom tiles, tilework on the porch. Gilbert has something saucy to say about every little thing, and you start to wonder if he's just not committed to this whole new-house thing. You'd assumed you were both on the same page considering how animated he was about what married life for you two would look like in the confines of suburbia. He, being Gilbert von Obsidian, did verily use the word 'confines'. You appreciated the double-meaning in the context of his statement, while only appreciating one of those double-meanings. "Gilbert," you said, using his full-name to let him know you're serious. "That makes you sound like a serial-killer." Prompting him to leaky-roof-bucket-laugh sweetly and say: "Hm. That's a good idea. I'll think about it."
Turns out he doesn't actually hate all the tile-work. He's just concerned about what he believes you two can reasonably renovate or replace on your modest budget, especially after factoring in other aspects of the house-buying process. It's not that you don't have the same concerns, but jeez, Gilbert. Cut those tiles a break. They're non-sentient, and that's the worst thing for a tile to be.
For the houses that have pretty rose hedges separating their yard from the neighbors, Gilbert makes every attempt to "magic" some of the roses into their beautiful dark counterparts. You don't notice him doing this for the first several houses. Around mid-afternoon, he seems a little bummed that you haven't noticed his mischief, so he finds a bathroom with okay-tiles to sequester you and bite all his feels out. Weirdly it is some of the hottest sex you guys have had in months. You're having some weird thoughts about that v-neck sweater now.
The poor, balding real-estate agent, who absolutely knows what prospective homeowners do when they slip into a bathroom for a closer look, asks if maybe you two have taken a liking to this house. Gilbert smiles with the wattage of a premium light-bulb and says no. You know Gil well enough by this point to fail to correctly ascertain several things because you're blinded by your own love for him (don't worry, this goes both ways), but you know for a fact that he feels bad for toting the agent around the neighborhood like this, even if Gil is going full-force on the Difficult Customer persona. It's adorably awkward of him in the most elegant way. He's been taken advantage of in the past by salespeople who've tricked him into ridiculous cable packages and horrendous multi-level-marketing schemes. No more, he told himself.
This is before he met you and fell back in love with his own kindness. So even though he tells the real-estate agent "no" in regards to this house. He follows it up with "I'm tired. We're using the bedroom for a nap." And he takes you by the wrist and sweeps you away past a row of windows with a suspiciously clear view of a hedge of roses that have been altered to reflect Gilbert colours, British spelling.
And then you guys have sex in that room too. So I guess you gotta buy the house now
#ikepri gilbert#gilbert von obsidian#ikepri#ikemen prince#gilbert von obsidian x reader#ikepri gilbert x reader
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Thenamesh. Tomb Raider. AU. Please.
Gil did his best to swim to the surface but it wasn't easy. The tunnel he had followed let out to a rather violent section of the river. He had chosen this slightly riskier path entirely because he had thought it might give him a head start on Thena.
Did Thena make it out okay?
He had bigger problems to worry about, like surviving this river.
He fought to the surface, gasping in what air he could before he was tossed aside again. Okay, so choosing the tunnel section close to the rapids was not his wisest decision. He was trying to think like his more reckless and impulsive colleague!
Colleague probably wasn't the right word for what they had. A frenemyship...a rivalry...some tension that he knew he felt, but was quite sure Thena was oblivious to. Not that it mattered now that he was drowning.
"Gil!"
He was hallucinating now. Much closer to drowning than he thought--great. He hit a rock under the water, its speed overpowering all the muscles he had worked so hard for. His air left him in one gulp.
He wasn't sure if it was a hallucination or not when he saw Thena in front of him. His eyes were barely open when she swam down to him. The river was calmer further from the surface. She swam right up to him, pressing her lips to his, pushing air from her lungs into his.
He must be dying, he thought.
Thena's hands gripped the straps of his bag, urging up back into the momentum of the river. He knew she was plenty strong herself. She would have to be, to be called 'Tomb Raider' by those in their profession, freelance or otherwise.
Thena gasped loudly as she surfaced first, then forcing his head up as well. "Breathe, you bastard!"
He didn't know how necessary the name calling was. But he did take in a breath--a real breath of air. So, he wasn't hallucinating, and he wasn't dead. He was surprised.
"Come on," she growled, still fighting against the current to keep him afloat. "Just keep breathing."
He tried his best, although he was waterlogged, to put it lightly. He felt her sharp talons of fingers creep around his pockets, finally pulling at the zipper of his bag, "hey!"
Thena grunted as she finally disposed of the counterweight he had in his side pocket, expressly for the purpose of switching out certain artifacts, potentially surrounded by traps. "Not a world of difference, but a stone is a stone."
He wasn't sure if that was a crack about how heavy he was or if she really was talking about the rock he was planning on switching out.
They did eventually make it to the side of the river. Thena grabbed onto the riverbank first, fingers dug into the grass and holding onto the strap of his bag for dear life. "Come on."
Gil groaned, dragging himself up out of the water after her. He did feel heavier after his impromptu river ride, he had to admit. He coughed up some water, although he was pretty sure he could hear Thena doing the same. "Thanks."
She remained facing away from him, also fighting to catch her breath. He had underestimated just how strong she was, apparently, given her ability to drag him to shore with those thin little arms. "Imbecile."
"Okay," he huffed, turning over to sit on his butt and lean back on his palms to gasp in the rest of his air. "I'll send you a card, I guess."
"What were you thinking?!"
Gil stared at her as she grasped the front of his soaking wet shirt, shaking him. Her voice was raw and warbled from the shouting and the almost drowning. But it was more than that; she had tears in her eyes.
She shook him again, looking terribly upset (angry and otherwise). "Why didn't you follow me?"
"I-I-" he shook his head, still stunned.
She grabbed his shirt with both hands now, pulling him closer so she could really shout in his face. "Why didn't you follow me?!--down my tunnel! It leads further downstream, at a lower altitude!"
She seemed awfully upset with him for...almost dying? Gil let her grab and shake him all she wanted though. Whatever helped her get it out (and not start punching him). "I didn't know. This was the way I came in."
"You could have died, Gil," she asserted, since apparently it bared repeating. She never called him Gil.
"I-" he blinked, sitting up more properly and gently reaching up to her hands. He tried to pry them away from him gently, and she let go as soon as he touched her. But her hands were so small, and so soft, and now they were so cold, too. He held them in his, "I'm sorry, Thena."
She didn't have a clever response to him holding her hands and wholeheartedly apologising. He still wasn't sure why he was apologising for almost dying on her, but what the Lady wanted, the Lady got.
Thena sighed, her hair now hanging around her cheeks limply after their little log ride. "I thought I was the reckless of the two of us."
The two of them made quite a pair, he thought. He chuckled, looking up at her in her hunched position up on her knees. His hand drifted, and he almost wondered what it was doing. He pushed back some of her loose strands escaping her braid, tucking them behind her ear again. "Guess I had to beat you to it, just this once."
Fuck, she was beautiful. If only her very existence didn't interfere with every job he had ever taken.
Thena looked him over, determining if he really was fit to travel or if he was having one last surge before croaking right in front of her. But she must have been satisfied, because she rocked back on her heels before standing. "Just this once, Gilgamesh."
He mourned how she called him Gil.
"Are you able to walk?" she asked more genuinely, more firmly, and more like her usual self. She glanced at him over her shoulder (with as little effort as possible). "Or should I come back for you."
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he insisted, even as he let out a loud groan to get on his feet again. "Maybe if I tell them I almost died trying to get that stupid idol they'll still pay me for my trouble."
"You did technically find it," she shrugged as they began trudging back to the main basecamp around the remains of the city. "I would vouch that your finder's fee still applies."
He smiled, tired as it was. Her shoulders sat lower than before, and she had never looked more delicate to him. But he dared to nudge her shoulder with his elbow, "thanks for saving me."
She declined to respond to that.
If she wanted to walk in silence then so be it. But he had to wonder, "where's the idol."
"Bottom of the river."
Fuck.
"It was made of gold, Gilgamesh, I could not possibly have swam with that on my person."
She abandoned it...for him? He looked at her curiously, but apparently his eyes burning a hole in the side of her head was low down on her priority list.
"Which means my finder's fee also applies."
Ah, that was more like the Thena he knew. He chuckled, soaking up the sun, both for the warmth and in hopes it would help dry out his clothing. It was stuck to him like a second skin. He would worry about Thena, but her raiding outfits tended to stick to her like a second skin already.
Not that he had noticed.
"I can always go back for it."
He laughed more fully, even though his lungs still ached a little. She elbowed him for it this time, and damn her elbows were pointier than his. But he let it slide, given how she did forsake a great treasure to save him. "No racing this time."
"It was never a race," she rolled her eyes at him. "And if it were, I had beaten you anyway."
Ah, Thena never changed. And he kind of didn't want her to.
#Thenamesh Tomb Raider AU#I give the people what they want!!!#I hope you don't mind I'm continuing on that other prompt I had#I did my homework!#I watched the movies#tried to get a sense of her character#I like the idea of Gil being another freelancer#and the poor guy is constantly losing contracts because the Tomb Raider got here first#meanwhile he's like Thena please some of us have bills to pay#she looks at him like yes my house is huge it has many bills#They drag themselves to basecamp#Gil is like so I did find it...and now it's gone#they're like the fuck bro#but Thena glares at them like A MAN ALMOST DIED#she lays right into 'em because she doesn't give a flying fuck about these old bastards and what they think of her#Gilgamesh admits to himself that he's a little moved#not just that Thena doesn't want him dead#but that she would feel strongly enough to yell about it?#he thinks yelling is her love language#also he does send her a card#and flowers#and it thanks her for saving his life#and he draws a little 'x' to “return the kiss”#Karun and Druig back at the estate are like exCUSE ME???#Thena: *throwing the whole bouquet into the fire* it's nothing#pt 2
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Inger Eve Nilsdott (My Hogwarts Legacy MC)
Name: Inger Eve Nilsdott
Blood Status: Half-blood
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor
Patronus: Black mare
Wand: Rowan wood, phoenix feather core, supple flexibility, 13 1/4”
Appearance: Inger is very pale with a generous smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, chestnut brown hair (usually found in a low twisted ponytail with a variety of flyaways around her face), and toffee brown eyes. She is tall for her age (5'8") with a gangly build, and often has a light sunburn from spending so much of her time outdoors. (Inger’s official appearance references can be found here!!)
Background: Inger was born in Ebeltoft, Denmark on January 21st, 1875 to Ella Bronfen (a half-blood of English descent) and Elias Finn Nilsdott (a pure-blood of Danish and English descent). Her brother, Gilbert (Gil) Oliver Nilsdott, was born when she was five. During her younger years, Inger’s father traveled abroad working as a Curse-Breaker for the Ministry of Magic. Inger's mother worked as a Healer. Due to the spontaneous nature of Elias Nilsdott’s job, the poor reputation of Durmstrang Institute, and the ever-increasing suspicion of the family's gossipy Muggle neighbors, Inger was homeschooled for much of her life… That is, until the neighbors caught her trying out Wingardium Leviosa on her cat with her mother’s wand. Following the incident the family moved to Shaftesbury, England when Inger was 14. Having attended Hogwarts when she was a girl, Inger’s mother had always dreamed that her daughter would one day do the same. After some discussion Inger was enrolled the following year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a fifth-year student.
Personality: ESTP-T 8w7. Inger is a strong-willed, outgoing girl with a love for the fun side of life. She lives for the thrill of adventure, competition, and the unknown- something that often gets her into trouble. A champion of the underdog, Inger is never afraid to speak her mind, especially in another's behalf. She defines herself by what/who she loves and the actions she takes to help others. Inger is also an excellent problem solver and loves to experiment with new ideas and solutions. She particularly enjoys working with potions, as the possibilities are endless. Despite her strengths, Inger does have her flaws- she is stubborn to a fault, rebellious and ignorant of rules, unstructured, impulsive, incredibly impatient, and can be (in her blunt nature) rather abrasive.
Fears: Confined spaces, isolation, the Imperius and Cruciatus curses
Boggart: Azkaban jail cell
Favorite / Best Subjects: DAtDA, Potions
Least Favorite / Worst Subjects: Divination, Astronomy
Amortentia: Wood smoke, hot chocolate, pine needles, wind
Other Things:
Very deep sleeper
Has a pet orange tabby cat named Reggie
Has severe claustrophobia
Loves hot chocolate
Can't stand being cold
Favorite color is sky blue
Fluent in both Danish and English
Becomes an Auror for the Ministry of Magic
Her Ilvermorny House would be Pukwudgie
Eventually gets married to Garreth Weasley and has five kids (More information about Inger and Garreth's relationship can be found here!)
#gryffindor#hogwarts legacy#harry potter#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts oc#garreth x mc#inger eve nilsdott
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That last ask about the disadvantages of a human dropping into Nevada and the ramifications on their health got me thinking.
It’s been partially confirmed that grunts can eat inorganic matter in order to survive (i.e. shoe-eating bandits). They ALL aren’t starving to death sonthey must be doimg something right.
So in all these player/reader stories I’m just wondering “How the hell are they even alive”, because humans need all sorts of vitamins and nutrition just to get up in the morning. Nevada is quite barren, so unless they’re dining on grunts 24/7 I don’t see how they would be able to live off of grunt food if 99.9% of it is non-organic.
That’s without even mentioning medication. A lot of people take prescribed drugs every day for various medical reasons, including some long-term medications for treating life-altering illnesses. It’s never a good idea to cold turkey, and the withdrawal can be dangerous if the lack of it doesn’t kill you first. If a player had to, say, take a specific drug every morning so their brain didn’t jump out of their skull, well that’s really gonna suck for them won’t it? Nevada isn’t exactly well equipped for chronic illness when the average life expectancy is fifteen days or less. Not saying none of these things can be resolved with enough dedication, just that it would certainly make life a hell of a lot harder for any humans getting pulled into Nevada.
Now it’s one in the morning and I am very tired, hopefully this makes sense when I submit it otherwise I’m gonna sound delirious. Good day’m.
These are also very reasonable and realistic concerns when talking about a human wondering around the wilds of Nevada.
I would like to say that humans are verrrry...domesticated.
We don't really survive well away from our natural settlements or environments. I mean, imagine if you had to go scavenging for food instead of going to your local grocery store or your fridge! Also, I bet a lot of people haven't been in gun fights or have been shot at. The shock of the situation would send lots of humans through a loop.
Humans are used to normalcy and safety. We don't go on missions to get food, we merely go out and get what we need or go eat. Grunts are at a stage in time where their whole world has collapsed and survival of the fittest is no joke.
It's not just medications either. Some humans have physical needs for asthma, diabetes, and numerous other things.
PLUS, the whole "grunts being able to eat inorganic items to survive" would make humans ALSO on that list. I have stated before that humans would most likely be considered prey in Nevada and that's not a joke. For example, when Burger Gil's was in operation, they mention that Burger Gil's got the meat from a supply plant that grows meat. But that was BEFORE the fall. After the fall, cannibalism has become scarily commonplace.
So much so, that there's several factions dedicated to eating other Nevadeans. (Bandits AND Vampires feed on the populace)
That means that grunts would have no trouble deciding to eat a human, as it would be a typical choice.
The only few things I know Nevada has is meat, bread, and sodas of some kind. (Along with whatever Chef Pava is selling.) I don't even know how Nevada has bread, since there are no known wheat farms. There are no animals, not even horses to ride on.
That means there's no fruit and no veggies. No vitamins and no minerals ESSENTIAL to prevent a human's health from declining. If the poor human doesn't starve to death first, they may even die of thirst later on. The only time they would be able to get a drink is from a miraculous intact soda machine or the rain that periodically falls from the sky. Both which may expose them to expired goods or dirty water.
If you're a Player, you may just be able to survive. Especially if we're talking about Salty's AU.
But if you're a REGULAR human, you are going to be in a WORLD of hurt. Just surviving the illnesses you can get, the limited options you would have, the general discomfort of an apocalyptic world that's filled with murderous faceless creatures that would LOVE to eat you sounds like an absolute nightmare.
#archiedumskull#hax speaks#haxorus imp#cosmica galaxy#madness combat x reader#madcom tag#human!reader x madcom#madcom x reader#y/n x madness combat#madness combat imagines#madcom self aware au#madness combat self aware au#self aware m:pn au#self aware au
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Part 3 of my nnt rewatch ep 13-18
I'm trying to watch it in latam Spanish but I just rlly love the English voice cast >:( I'm doing it for most scenes anyway tho🤪 I do love español!Elizabeth's voice tho !! I maintain that English!Ban is the best voice tho
Do we know why meliodas loses his emotions in this form?
And what form even is this? We never see it again if I remember correctly?
Helbram's magic lowkey cool as fuck
I want to see ban and Elizabeth interact one on one more often, as the two people closest to Meliodas (aside from Merlin, but she has secrets) I want to see them together, yk?
MelBan is just so good like they beat the shit out of each other to show love and I think that's beautiful
I know a lot of ppl ship lancelot and tristan but I ship their dads🫣 el oh el
Elizabeth should be way more powerful than she is and that is what polishes me off the most in all of sds honestly >:(
Also I'm back on my howzer x diane bullshit 😔
La voz del español!Meli es tan profundo, pienso que es la voz más diferente de las versiones, es extraño
Mi teoría sobre la voz de meliodas solo existe en las versiones de inglés y japonés I guess
King and Ban training together is so fucking cutee
I love how we just never rlly find out anything abt the trumpet of cernunos lol
How is ban's jacket too short but his pants aren't? Not complaining, that's just silly lol
Also him defending Meli even tho he obviously knows he's a demon is so🥺
Meliodas splitting the mountain with the branch is one of my fave scenes, we get to see that there's so much more to him and it hints at his coming power
I forgot how tragic Gil and Margaret were that's a good storyline damn
Ep 14 time !!
Is helbram... hot?
YESSS roars of dawn time !!! Slader is so babygirl I love him sm
Guila is such a girlboss line yaasss kween kill those children !!
Why the fuck does meliodas own so many slutty women's costumes HMMM? is he... you know... 👀💅
Gowther introducing himself to Hawk as oinkity oink oink is so real, I love their bond
I love that will Elizabeth feels insta love and Meliodas has BEEN in love for 3000 years
Slader is like if demon!meliodas, ban, and hawk had a baby and that baby was a slut
Seeing genuine surprise from Meliodas when "gowther" was going to be defeated is so weird, like mans was sad he lost his friend and had no idea that wasn't him
The roars of dawn are all hot and that's a good thing
Poor Dale. He just wanted to protect his family. And he was hot too😔
Ban flipping King off while Meliodas revels in Chastiefol's softness is such a representation of all three of them
Meliodas straight up using hellblaze to fight the armored giant/Dale is so funny, it's like baby isn't ur biggest secret that you're a 3000 year old demon prince?? And hellblaze is your specialty demon power?? This does not seem inconspicuous
Also might do a ramble on hellblaze later 👀
Also ban using a whip is kinda 😳
Indiana jones type drip (I am both attracted to and find gender envy from Indiana jones)
The girls are fightingggg
Also this title card is so cute !!
Meliodas straight up being the holy knight grand Master of danafor is so funny to me
He looks so cute in his danafor outfit😭
Also I wonder where meliodas gets the groping thing from because 3000 years ago he was def not like that, though the groping does get less frequent as the story goes on and that's when the holy war arc is so maybe nakaba just forgot abt it lol
Also slavery being canon in nnt britannia is crazy when you think about it
The only reason meliodas didn't carry a sword being he would kill too many people is just a litttleeee bit funny
But also Cain saying that he is both too violently destructive and "too gentle a soul" is painstaking ahaha🥲 literally the best descriptor for him
Gowther carrying King on piggyback is so cute😭😭
I think the moment Meliodas finally kills Dale is a real turning point in the series. Before this, he had not killed a single opponent. He just fought to disarm and incapacitate. Just the next episode, he tells ban and gowther to "go straight for the kill" against the holy knights. As we see throughout the rest of the series, even before his emotions get caught in purgatory, he no longer feels hesitant to kill. He only becomes more and more like himself from the time of the Holy War (post 10 commandments). This is why I love his character sm, a corruption arc (even if he is never truly evil) is just so rare and one this good and angst filled is even rarer.
Ban continually stealing the same 1980s glamrock red leather set with studs bc he keeps getting murdered in it is the foundation of his character fr
Gowther and Elizabeth being the only ones who are not alcoholics is so real
Also all of them just sniffing king kills me😭
Diane being 30 feet tall means the world to me
Also gowther is so pretty, esp without his glasses
Long hair!Dreyfus is also ridiculously pretty
Ban just letting Gowther squish his tits is so hashtag real, mans gives no fucks
Hug🥰
I don't think I've seen this episode since the first time I watched nnt bc I totally forgot Arthur was introduced in it lol
LISTEN howzer rooting for Diane when they're on opposite sides of the battle is just rlly cute look how flustered he is🥺
so in English, after gowther uses rewrite light, the holy knights say "Meliodas! There you are! Ban, I really missed you man!" BUT in Spanish they call Meliodas mijo (meaning my son/my kid) and Ban hermano (brother)😭😭
THEY CALL GOWTHER MI QUERIDO (my love/dear/beloved) AKKSLDLDLT
Howzer and Gyula being the first ones to publicly stand up to dreyfus and hendy means so much I love them
Hendy was so hot😭😭
Wait how did I just realize that fraudrin was the one to break gowther's nightmare teller
Wait I also juT realized that Dreyfus is Gil's uncle. Gil is dreyfus's nephew. How did I not comprehend that
King, sobbing: why can't I ever protect the people that I care about?😢😭😓 Helbram: it's because you're consistently late🤨😐🙄
Helbram's eyeliner game is almost as good as Ban's
Is Howzer's hair supposed to be green or blond? Discuss.
On that note, we always say Elizabeth's hair is silver, but it's def mint green
Anyway,that's episode 18! Can't believe I'm already about to be on my last part of season 1 !!
#tess rambles on her nnt rewatch#seven deadly sins#tess rambles#nanatsu no taizai#7ds#nnt#meliodas#elizabeth liones#elizabeth nnt#ban nnt#bandit ban#liz nnt#gowther#diane nnt#king nnt
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so does anyone find it a little bit interesting that Jackson is constantly headcanoned as trans??
there are a significantly larger amount of trans Jackson headcanons compared to trans Holt -> Jackson is shy and nerdy vs Holt who is loud and seems super confident,, wow I sure do wonder which one is perceived as trans
I notice this with a lot of fandoms but y’all cannot handle straight/opposite sex relationships in your media, so of course Jackson is seen as trans with (perceived) cishet Frankie (g1) because then it’s “not straight” (yes it is transphobic, but people use this logic :/)
(^ no seriously the most accepted straight ship is Draculaura and Clawd and it is very overshadowed by Draculaura and Clawdeen,, but I won’t get into that now)
If representation is so important then why don’t I see trans headcanons of Manny, Gil, or Clawd? It’s because you don’t see them as trans because they are strong sporty and overall more masculine compared to Jackson (same goes for Holt again)
if characters appear to have traits of the opposite sex/gender then people will automatically assume that they are trans because of this -> some pretty blatant transphobia here, sounds like bioessentialism which so many of y’all claim to hate :/
it’s just really funny to me that a lot of people are all about being woke and accepting of different things but then you are placing this character into a box based on his “poor little meow meow trans boy swag” and you are feeding into these ideas of what a trans guy “should” be
And disclaimer I’m not upset with people who headcanon Jackson as trans, and I’m not saying people who hc him as trans are inherently transphobic, however I am pointing out that there are some strange patterns and it seems that a disturbingly large amount of the fandom has this headcanon based on stereotypes and some odd preconceived notions
#I have a lot more to say about this topic of lgbt mh characters (both canon and headcanon)#anyway there’s probably a lot that I’m missing but this topic is just really fuckin weird to me#I’m kinda just pulling out the uno reverse here#monster high#jackson jekyll
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Elrond and Gil Galad short fic
Gil Galad was stirred from his paperwork by a dagger imbedding itself into his desk. He had already started the ridiculously familiar phrase of ‘Elrond,knives, we’ve talked about this’ when he looked up at Elrond’s face and stopped. He tried to discreetly see the piece of paperwork that had been slammed onto his desk with said knife. Ah. So this was how he died.
‘What,’ Elrond’s voice was calm and pleasant sounding yet still managed to shake with rage, ‘Is this piece of bigoted bile that lies before me, and why may I ask is your seal beside it.’ He should have been expecting this he supposes. He tries to offer an explanation but is intercepted instantly by Elrond’s voice rattling off the contents of the cursed document as if he were talking about the weather. ‘It has been passed into law that for the purpose of diplomacy, any members of Lindon’s diplomatic delegation may be denied participation on any embassy based on possible offence to the customs of the people in question’. ‘That’s only a summary of it there are numerous clauses-’, but he stopped knowing it was fruitless.
‘This is an invitation to put numerous elleths and members of same sex relationships out of the job and you know it,’ he stated as if Gil Galad hadn’t said anything, accompanied by a glare that contained somehow more threat than the fact that Elrond’s hand was still resting on the hilt of the dagger. ‘
Its plausible that you might have thought you could slide it by without raising too much public awareness, you are generally capable of discretion, but the idea that you thought I wouldn’t find out about it is laughable.’ This is perfectly true. He knows that through various back channels and connections in every faction little goes on in the world that Elrond doesn’t find out about. He’d never had this work against him before, it had helped him on numerous matters before and cut down the time needed to explain things, but then he’d never tried to conceal something from him before.
‘And why would you not want me to know? I refuse to believe I could be so poor a judge of character to support a king who held this kind of prejudice so why wouldn’t you let me help you work around it?’ he looked betrayed now and made Gil Galad feel sick to his stomach. He knew how much work had been needed to get any sort of trust from the Peredhel, with good reason considering how most of his relationships with his family had gone. The idea that he could have undone that progress was terrifying. He knew lying would make the situation so much worse and so finally decided the truth was his only hope.
‘There was significant pressure from the Numenoreans on the matter. They threatened to cut of all links and we need them Elrond. We would not have won without them and you’ve told me yourself we’ll need them again.’
Elrond went very still for a moment and when he spoke his voice was slow and dangerous ‘Do you realise, how much worse that makes it’. ‘Elros,’ and there it was the word that had been left unsaid but very much present in so many conversations ‘Has been dead for over a century’. And now this conversation was in the most dangerous territory yet, ‘I am insulted that you think I am too emotionally compromised to offer council on an entire country because my brothers descendants have adopted some messed up ideologies. What did you think I was going to do when I heard hmm? Were you worried I’d fling myself off a cliff? Sail away and never come back?’. ‘You can’t plan to convince me you’ve healed from all of it. I know you better than that.’
‘Well I thought you did! Don’t you think if I was planning to do any of those things I’d have done them by now? I’ve had a century without Elros and numerous points over my life in much worse positions than I am now and I’m still here aren’t I? I’m not going anywhere anytime soon I’d appreciate not being treated like I’m so delicate I’ll break at any moment.’
‘Your right. I’m sorry, I should never have signed it and I certainly should have concealed it from you. I broke your trust and I understand if you hate me for it.’ he reached out and took his hand looking into his herald’s eyes unflinchingly. The anger had almost evaporated leaving a weariness and pain that had been beneath all the Peredhel’s actions of late. But there was strength as well. So much strength made even more so with the pain. He felt that the eyes were looking into his very soul and seeing all of it more clearly than he himself could. Knowing Elrond he probably was.
But Elrond must have been satisfied by what he saw because he released his hand to straighten his robes and spoke ‘Good. Well I suppose we should get to work than at reversing this thing. May sway in Numenorean politics is clearly not what it used to be but it is not nothing. If we pull on the right connections I think we can devise a strategy to reverse this thing without anyone being the wiser.’
And Gil Galad breathed a sigh of relief. Why he would ever think he could manage this without Elrond he didn’t know. They fell into their old routine and in a few weeks it was as if nothing had happened. He was seriously questioning how his guards hadn’t noticed the dagger though.
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