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babushkatty · 4 months

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Tranquil SAGAU - Part 4

-> Part 1

-> Part 3

-> Part 5

Crepus, true to your initial assumptions of him being sunshine personified, very enthusiastically invited you over for tea once everything in the caravan was cleaned up, the wounded were attended to and the Knights of Favonius reluctantly went on their way.

And by tea, he meant dinner.

And by dinner, he meant a feast that could easily feed an army.

Truly, the Ragnvindr were rich beyond comprehension. Whatever the heart desired, it was at the table. Northern Apple Stew, Northern Smoked Chicken, Sweet Madame, Flaming Red Bolognese, Barbatos Ratatouille, Calla Lily Seafood Soup, Crem Stew, Cold Cut Platter, Satisfying Salad, Sticky Honey Roast -- all alongside many dishes you knew for a fact weren't in the game at all (there was something ravioli-adjacent, a plate of potatoes with seasonings, some dumplings, small snacks, sweet desserts and you even spied something that looked suspiciously like Meringue and was that Tofu? wasn't Tofu Liyuen?), with Apple Cider, Water, tea and a lot of fancy wine (couldn't do without wine at a winery, after all) to serve as drinks.

You had no idea how you were meant to eat so much, or how to even attempt to taste a little bit of everything without your stomach protesting. Did rich people train themselves into having a bottomless stomach so that they could eat what they were given without offending anyone?

"So, (Name)," Crepus began, fancily sipping at his fancy glass of fancy wine, "How come you and your... Friend, arrived at just the precise time to prevent any serious harm? Surely it wasn't a coincidence?"

He chuckled good-naturely as he twirled his wine in circles.

Look at Crepus, digging into the matter without sounding accusatory or condescending! In fact, he sounded eager. You could almost imagine the wagging tail and perked up ears.

Suddenly, you realized who exactly Kaeya took after in his habit of talking circles around people on a daily basis. Not entirely of course -- where Kaeya was smug and suave, Crepus was a giant fluffy friend that had you wrapped around its' paw, because how could you possibly say no to that face? You wouldn't hide anything from a friend, would you? You wouldn't, it was a friend after all, you were so comfortable around him for a reason, there was no need for suspicion and paranoia around sweet old Crepus!

You heard of people weaponizing stupidity, but weaponizing your gold-lab-like personality? That was a first and you clearly met a master of the craft.

"It's a coincidence. Dvalin took me flying every day for the past week. He sensed something off in the distance, so we went to check it out and, well... Ursa happened."

You shrug and sip at your Apple Cider.

Crepus did not look any less excited than before. If anything, he smiled wider and the imaginary tail you swore you saw picked up in speed -- contrasting greatly with Diluc who just sat in his chair silently, with his eyes burning a hole right through you.

A bit unnerving, but what could you do other than endure? Not like he was doing anything wrong, everyone did a little bit of unsettling staring every once in a while.

And besides, this wasn't the Diluc who would burn an Abyss Mage into unconsciousness just to burn them awake for information, this was a baby. A Diluc that wasn't hardened by the loss of his family, by the betrayal of his adopted brother turned Khaenri'ah spy, by the corruption of the Knights of Favonius he sincerely admired and by Snezhnaya kicking him while he was down. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve and now you got sad thinking about what would have happened had you (and Dvalin... Mostly Dvalin...) not been there to intervene.

Everything was not Daijoubu.

"Then what did you friend mean, when he said you could permamently put down Ursa?"

Crepus sounded so genuinely curious and excited, it was adorable. How was this grown ass man so cute? With that crime against humanity of a beard too? It was utter witchcraft!

For a moment, you considered lying about your situation. You considered outright saying you couldn't tell because of personal reasons. You considered following the role model of all fools, Nie Huaisang, and shaking your head out of the situation, repeatedly saying 'you didn't know, you didn't know, you really didn't know--!'

But then you realized the cat was partly out of the bag anyways (thanks Dvalin, you're as subtle as a brick to the face) and it would be just a waste of effort on your part.

"No idea. He's convinced I'm the All-Mother of Teyvat and the longer I am around, the stronger I'll get. Theoretically, it would mean I could do something about Ursa somewhere down the line, but that's if I'm the All-Mother at all, which I doubt."

(Quietly, you refused to acknowledge the part of you that has long since accepted Teyvat would never hurt you and that you may be the All-Mother. Damn Dvalin and his silver tongue, it's like Venti getting Genshin!Diluc on his side with his song all over again!)

Crepus positively shook in excitement, a grin so bright you really wished for sunglasses this time. It's like this sunshine of a man had made it his personal mission to blind you.

Diluc just looked stunned silly, eyes wide like saucers and mouth slightly open in shock.

You sip at your Apple Cider awkwardly, thanking the Archons that neither Kaeya nor the Dawn Winery staff were around to add more weirdness to this disaster of a dinner.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

Look at me, completely ignoring Canon.

Did Crepus have a personality in Canon? Maybe. I didn't read the manga. Do I know what it might be? Nope. I didn't read the manga, so now he's an excited gold lab with a side seasoning of sly fox.

The beauty of fanfiction, reality is whatever the hell I want it to be.

Sometimes you need to just run with half a fact you probably misheard and misinterpreted to make something fun happen, SAGAU needs some fluffy vibes without the damn cult worship.

The people that know what they're doing are writing impostor AUs and cult AUs, so might as well volunteer myself as tribute for this one.

I should probably make a masterlist at some point, shouldn't I? The parts are going to grow really fast considering I keep them all short.

Something to think about.

✨Taglist✨

@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt

Heeeey, mmeatt's tag works finally! It only took me 3 parts to figure it out!

Also special mention to @chaoticfivesworld who casually dropped some important lore on me in a comment, probably not realizing it would become a plothole in the future because, I repeat, I don't know canon as much as I probably should.

Yolo.

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 months

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Hey friends I'm trying to put a name to a specific type of gameplay that I've seen pop up every so often but I've never seen a good name for. Specifically it's the desire for the player to run a business or have other sorts of holdings that they manage/build up over time as a progression mechanic outside traditional levelling up.

Here's some examples I've seen:

Refurbishing a ruined keep and becoming stewards of the land

Opening and operating a tavern, smithy, or magic item shop

The cottage core "I'm going to have a cute little farm and bring my harvest to market" fantasy

Transporting cargo in a caravan or merchant ship

Helping to establish a village for a group of refugees fleeing disaster

Optimizing your vinyard profits by fucking with the local wine trade so much that you become a crime lord and your rivals start sending low level adventurers after you.

Previously I've used the term "homesteading" to describe this sort of gameplay but that gives me iffy settler colonialist vibes that I'd like to step away from. Likewise "pastoral fantasy" is a term I've heard used but yet again, not great.

#dapper digresses

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lovelaetter · 3 days

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haiii

hope ur doing well!

just had a thought i wanted to share

had this idea of princess!tzuyu in a medieval time whose father, the king harshly taxes the land and is generally hated

robin hood esque fem!reader whose a thorn in his side, constsmtly stealing from caravans/taxmen

tzuyu who hates what her father does but cant change his mind about how to rule

one night tzuyu awakens to here a commotion and wanders out in her night gown to see whats going on

finding reader stealing from the family vault and making eye contact, in fear retreating to her chambers but reader is enraptured by txuyu's beauty following her

ends up fucking the girl despite her ptotests saying its wrong, but after all the king has put his people through why shouldnt reader use his daughter as a plaything,

later on tzuyu not being able to stop thinking of how readers hands touched her, fucked her, no longer thinking of males suitors

loved the minjeong and taeyeon ask from earlier, hope ur doing well!

☕️

PLEASE!! i know this is supposed to be more smut but i couldn’t help it i just love some backstory!

i’m thinking about all you said and, hear me out, the guards catch you and the poor princess loses nights of her sleep thinking about you and how you’re not so far from her, locked in a cold cell, waiting for your execution… and her desire to do something about that. like, can you imagine her sneaking through secret passages late at night to meet you, trying to be quiet because she doesn’t want to risk someone seeing her and that getting to her father’s ears, and your surprise when she calls your name softly, the confusion on why she’s there, what does she wants with you.

the thing is that she doesn’t really knows what she wants either, mostly look at you, thinking that would soothe her thoughts but in reality it just makes them worse, seeing your face brings back memories of what you did to her and she feels so bad for liking said memories, her head gets so fucked. after the confusion washes away, being really condescending to her, smirking and making sure to look into her eyes to mock her for going after you after all, “does your father know you’re here, princess?” and then laughing when she looks away. and all that, she doesn’t dare to speak, like, if it weren’t for her pleadings for you to not hurt her the first time you would easily think she’s mute or something because she just stares at you with those big doe eyes :( not that this is a problem, though, you learn how to read her as her visits get more and more frequent.

she turns in such a toy in your hands, stepping closer when you motion for her to do so, leaning into your touch when you hold her face, arms hanging on the side of her body or maybe daring to touch you a bit as your hands roam over her body, but it’s not enough, you’re still locked, bars between you two and you can’t do a thing like that, so manipulating her into opening it for you, caressing her cheek, saying how “it would be so much nicer if i was out there, wouldn’t it?” and she’s not stupid, she’s not, she knows you’re twisting your words and using her to escape but… she wants you :( so yeah, she will steal the keys and open the fucking gate.

her holding your arm harshly, thinking you’re just going to run and gasping when you put her against the wall, slipping her nightgown off her shoulders and leaving her bare for anyone who came by to see. i can see her being so desperate and touch starved that your grip on her waist has her melting, pulling your hair while you kiss and mark her neck, not caring what scandal this could bring for her after. squirms a lot when you’re finally fucking her, it still being a foreign sensation, two fingers— could be three if you were being meaner but it’s not the time— going in and out and making this low slick noise that makes her cheeks burn, her clit aching every time your thumb brushes there. moans so loud when she cums it has you freezing, afraid someone heard it. the poor thing probably wouldn’t want to let you go, holding you close, a hand sliding down to stop you from taking your fingers away, whining “more” that makes you snicker about how spoiled she is, demanding it from you, not even saying please… but you don’t really care, too focused on sucking her tits and make her drip on the floor a bit more.

i honestly like to think about running away after, kissing her cheek, not even her mouth, and leaving her there with only the promise of maybe visiting her one night but it’s up to you…… maybe she can convince her father of not killing you or decides to run away with you too, who knows. also corruption kink goes brrr!

#asks #twice smut #tzuyu smut #☕️ anon

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sotwk · 1 year

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The Task of Living (Thorin x Reader one-shot)

Love Confession feat. Thorin Oakenshield

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Two years after his triumphant reclamation of Erebor, Thorin returns to his former village in Dunland, seeking the woman he has loved since long ago.

Prompt: “You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you.”

Requested by and Dedicated to: @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady. Thank you for the request, the follow, and for letting me do a little something to help you feel better! This definitely turned out longer and more detailed than I had planned, so I hope it brings you some joy and comfort! <3

Word count: 2.4 k

Content: Romance, angst, drama, fierce dwarf-maiden, Everybody Lives AU, post-BotFA, King Thorin

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Some sensuality

To Read on AO3: Link

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

The Task of Living

Third Age 2943

Dunland

“Is she… is she yours?”

You smoothed a hand over the unbraided chestnut curls of the dwarf-child on your lap and shook your head. "My sister's. You probably don’t remember her."

His coal-black eyebrows knitted together, but only for a second. "Rith," he spoke her name with a triumphant little smirk that made you itch with a desire to smack it off his face. He set down his tankard of mulled ale on the table and leaned forward, the rickety old chair creaking underneath this small movement. “And how is she?”

“She is dead,” you said flatly, enjoying the flinch that wrinkled his perfect features. “Killed in an orc raid on the village six years ago, she and her husband both.” You gave your niece a quick hug and set her down, patting her lightly on the back. “Why don’t you go and help your Grandmother with the stew?”

“She needn’t have bothered, truly.” His keen blue eyes scanned the single-room cottage that presently housed three women across three generations. Although his gaze seemed mostly curious, his interest suddenly made you feel embarrassed about the dwelling’s small size and worn-out shabbiness.

“Of course she had to,” you hissed, rising abruptly from your chair. “What else are we expected to do when a king shows up at our doorstep, with no forewarning, but to scramble to pay respects and offer up what little provisions we have?”

Thorin rose to his feet, slowly, as though a dreadful weight burdened his stooped shoulders. Still, he towered over you, his regal demeanor undeniable despite his obvious attempts to dress in simple garb, with no raiment upon him other than the ancestral crown on his head.

“A caravan is on its way here,” he said. “Two dozen wagons loaded with enough food and supplies for a year. Enough for this whole village and its neighbors. It should arrive in a few days. The cargoes are heavy and the roads are troublesome. I decided to ride ahead with my guard because…” He faltered, but took a breath and pressed on. “...because I could not wait to see you.”

Oh no. You backed up a step, subconsciously resisting the allure of his presence, the implication of his words. Before you could turn away, he spoke again, “Perhaps we might move this conversation outside. There is still light out; we can take a short walk.”

Perhaps it would be easier to breathe and keep a clear head outdoors with all the fresh air. As you exited the cottage, you felt Thorin’s hand cup lightly around your elbow, in a courteous gesture to help you down the steps. You jerked your arm away, irritated by the silly nicety reserved for soft, high-society ladies who likely kept his company now.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted several armored soldiers by the sheep pen, tending to their ponies. You marched on in the direction of the little brook that bordered your property, determinedly and defiantly, leaving Thorin to hasten his steps to keep up.

“If I may say so, you look well--”

You stopped and spun around without warning. "Why are you here, Thorin?” You grimaced and corrected yourself. “Pardon me. Why are you here, your Majesty?”

“Thorin,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “You need not be so formal with me, not after so many years of friendship between us.”

Friendship. That word could not have burned you worse than a glowing hot iron straight out of the furnace. And suddenly it was thirty-five years ago, when you stood before each other in similar surroundings all the way in the shadows of the Blue Mountains, and Thorin told you with utmost conviction, that he could not accept your marriage proposal.

And you exploded. All the grief and pain and anger that you had shored up behind a wall inside your heart flowed like fiery lava on the slopes of an awakened volcano.

“Are you trying to hurt me?!” you cried. “Is that why you have come? Now that you have accomplished your great destiny to regain your throne, you thought it might amuse you to return to your former haunts and toy with the commoners you used to dwell amongst? Are you already so weary and bored of counting all the gold in the great Kingdom Under the Mountain?”

Thorin squared his shoulders and set his jaw against the accusations, incorrigibly stubborn as you had always known him to be. “I came to help. Both you and your kin.” He gestured at the house behind them, and the others beyond. “This land was also my home once.”

“It has not been your home for a very long time, Thorin.” You wrapped your arms across your chest, whether to shield yourself from the winter chill or from the dwarf who had shattered you irreparably, you weren’t certain. “Allow me to refresh the King’s memory since it has been so long: you abandoned it for the Blue Mountains. I was there. I left my own family and moved across Eriador to follow yours. But a humble life at the Lune would not satisfy you either, and you refused to settle and put down roots.”

At least not with me. You swiped at the corners of your eyes, furious at the tears that wouldn’t stop their descent. "You should not have come back here. We will manage well enough without Erebor's charity."

The old Thorin might have exchanged your rejection with biting words of his own; such was the pride that ran through the Durins' veins. But the face of the dwarf-lord before you softened as he continued.

"I came for you. To tell you I have not forgotten everything we shared together." The tone of his voice had changed; it cracked with desperation, pleading with you to accept his declarations. And then he uttered your name, and hearing it on his lips roused an ache inside you that was too much to bear.

You started walking again, stomping over the thick snow, following the line of naked trees along the frozen brook. He kept up with you in determined strides, raising his voice to a near shout as his passion grew.

"I have thought of you every day since we parted. Every memory I had of you, I kept close, even though it burned me as often as it kept me warm, because I refused to surrender hope that this day would come for us."

You shook your head wildly and pressed your hands over your ears, as though these gestures would be enough to make him stop.

“Amrâlimê, please...”

"Do. NOT. Call me that!"

You whirled around and punched him, slamming your fist into his chest, stopped by a wall of thick leather and muscle. While you considered yourself strong for your race, your strength fell short against a Durin. Thorin did not budge an inch, or even wince. Perhaps your predictable temper was the part of you least easily forgotten. So you hit him again. And again. Until you were pounding both fists repeatedly against his torso, his shoulders, his arms, anywhere you thought you could get him to feel just a small fraction of the agony he had put you through for over thirty years. Still Thorin refused to move or throw up any kind of self-defense.

How dare he! How dare he address you as such, in the tender manner that haunted you for decades even after you left the Blue Mountains to escape the unbearable sight of him. The precious endearment he would whisper into your ear on occasions of stolen intimacy, sigh into your hair in moments of peaceful contentment, moan against your skin whenever he made love to you.

Through your rage, you sensed the guards approaching to rescue their lord, and instinct prepared you to turn around and fight back like a cornered animal. But Thorin raised his hand at them in a signal to halt, and he finally reached out to catch your flailing wrists, easily ending your assault.

"I love you. As Mahal is my witness, my heart has ever belonged to you alone." He encased your hands tightly within his and held them against his chest, tugging you to him. "And you love me still, I can see it, however wretchedly undeserving I am."

You could not even think of struggling. It was too late. He was too close now, close enough for you to feel how real he was--his piercing eyes, his strong, calloused hands, the scent of smoke and steel that clung to the very hairs of his warm skin. These were not just a fantasy conjured by delirious longing, or a dream from the nights you cried in your sleep. Thorin was here. Alive and well, and here.

“I am truly sorry for all the pain I have caused you. Forgive me, Amrâlimê,” he murmured hoarsely, tracing the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb, sweeping down the softness of your jaw. “If I can have nothing else from you, I beg you to grant me that last kindness.”

That single moment of exposed vulnerability, of breathtaking sorrow and regret that radiated from him, reached you more than any of his expressions of passion. How much have the years changed him? The Thorin you knew could never bear to admit he was wrong about anything. Was it possible that rising to his kingship finally taught him humility?

“You have my forgiveness.” As you spoke this pardon, the remaining flames of your anger blew out to nothingness.

And Thorin smiled, his sweet, gentle smile, rare as the most precious gem but many times as beautiful. Your own smile felt like it would break your cheeks. He pulled you into his embrace and you sobbed into his neck, wondering if it was possible to die of happiness.

Drawing back, Thorin cradled your face between his hands, smoothing your tear-streaked cheeks, and rested his forehead on yours. “May I…?” Your breaths mingled in the soft whisper, and his eager lips already brushed yours even as he waited for permission.

"I may only ever kiss My One, whom they call Oakenshield," you said softly. "Where can I find him under the fine trappings of this great King?"

In response, Thorin gripped the heavy golden crown on his head and lifted it off. It slipped carelessly from his fingers and fell to the snow-covered ground with a dull thud.

"Let me show you," he said, and waited no more. He kissed you with the hunger of years of longing, deeply and greedily, pausing only when you whimpered for breath you could not catch. He backed you up underneath a tree, which you leaned against to aid your weakening balance as Thorin pressed on, his mouth leaving your swollen lips only to descend your neck, worshiping every inch of skin he could access.

"Durin help me," he growled into the curve of your shoulder, exposed where he had nearly torn your sleeve off. His chest still heaved from exertion and barely restrained lust. "I must have you again." He raised his eyes to meet yours, and the look in them made you swallow hard, conscious of your own depraved desire for him. "But it should be in the proper way you deserve."

"You are the only one I would ever have," you said, combing your fingers through a section of his thick black hair, now beautifully mixed with silver stands.

He took your hand to his lips, kissing your palm repeatedly before saying, "So would you return to Erebor with me?"

Your hesitation made him wrap both arms tightly around you, his entire body tense with the lingering fear of being separated from you again.

"You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you."

"Do what?" you asked, caressing his beard to calm the anxiety you regretted causing him. "What task is it that the great hero of Erebor needs a humble peasant's help in accomplishing?"

"The task of living." Thorin cupped his hand underneath your chin and gazed at you with soft, earnest affection. "A life with you was the only treasure I ever desired, but duty forced me to deprive myself of it. But no longer. I have avenged my family and restored our honor and our house. I have led our people back home. The time has come for me to pursue my own joys and pleasures, and those exist only in you."

"But my lord. My love," you whispered, once again moved to tears by the gladness his words roused in you. "Am I still a suitable match for you now that you require a consort to rule a kingdom by your side? I am not fit for the legendary grandeur of Erebor." You gestured at your attire, from your unadorned hair, your plain brown wool dress with a patched up skirt and worn, dirt-caked boots. "Just look at me."

"Indeed. I look at you with great pleasure," Thorin said, with a smirk that immediately made you blush. "When I look at you, I see my dreams fulfilled. I cannot imagine providing Erebor with a braver, kinder, wiser, or more radiant Queen."

"If you would still have me, that is." He held out his open palm to you, revealing an item he produced from the folds of his robe. Fading sunlight bounced off the high polish of the small, silvery-grey stone. You gasped when you recognized the betrothal bead you had offered him so many years ago. He must have rescued it after you had flung it away in your heartbroken grief, and kept it safe with him all this time.

"I fought through dragonfire and armies of orcs so I may live to see this day, so I may get a second chance to accept and wear this." Hope and fear battled in his intense stare, which bore down on you with heavy anticipation. "But now the course of my fate rests entirely upon you. Will you have me?"

He held his breath in the brief silence before you closed his fist around the bead and smiled. "I will have you for the rest of my life and whatever else lies beyond, Thorin Oakenshield." You placed a tender kiss on his knuckles. "So let us go home and see to this task of living… my King."

Tagged by request: @aduialel @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @scyllas-revenge @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @heilith @absentmindeduniverse; @undeniableadrenaline

For more of my stories, please see My Masterlist.

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#thorin #thorin fanfiction #thorin x reader #thorin x you #thorin oakenshield #the hobbit fanfiction #sotwk fanfiction #valentine event 2023 #follower request

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amphibia-a-day · 1 year

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Day 678 of Amphibia Screenshots

Episode: A Caravan Named Desire

#Amphibia #A Caravan Named Desire #Amphibia A Caravan Named Desire #Anne Boonchuy #Amphibia Screenshots #Amphibia Screenshot

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viviennevermillion · 1 year

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Bonfire Heart

notes: this one has been requested by @artistlara as part of my 3k followers event! sorry this took so long!

prompt: and I've been looking at the stars for a long, long time, I've been putting out fires all my life, everybody wants a flame, they don't want to get burned and today is our turn; days like these lead to nights like this lead to love like ours; you light the spark in my bonfire heart

song: bonfire heart [james blunt]

contains: dottore x gn!reader, use of what is presumably Dottore's real name

warnings: none

The exiled scholar hardly believed most of the village keepers remembered how they had crossed the boundaries of science in their previous lives. Stripped of their identity, as well as the ability to think straight, he wondered if they even could be bothered to care about their punishment by the Akademiya. He, however, was different. Many would have argued he too was insane. That he had gone mad. However, unlike the village keepers of Aaru Village; he was perfectly aware of his surroundings, of everything he had done and was still doing. Their reaction to his progress in science had been anything but desirable. He was offended.

But most of the time, he had no time to waste on these thoughts. Convinced, that letting him loose on a peaceful village would only bring the Akademiya more trouble, they had simply tossed him to the desert outside of Caravan Ribat to fend for himself. Why they hadn't killed him then and there was still a mystery to him.

The desert was harsh. Survival was almost impossible for someone who had no idea where they were headed and no resources to bring with them. That's why he had found himself wandering through the endless wasteland of sand with no water in sight after just a couple of days. His knowledge of science proved to be useless without the proper resources to apply it to. The scholar fell over, the ruthless sun in the sky blinding him as his eyelids fluttered shut. Sand was caught in his teal hair. If he wouldn't die of thirst, the sun would surely burn him alive. Or at least that was what it had felt like at the time.

And then there was you. You were like an angel; a savior sent from Celestia, completely unaware that he was a man who could never be saved. He greedily swallowed the water you poured into his dry mouth, only half-aware of what was happening. Your voice was ringing in his ears but it was the kindest sound he had heard in an eternity. "Did they just leave you out here? Come on, let's get you home."

Was he dead?

No. When he awoke he was in Aaru Village, safely resting in your quarters. He almost let out a chuckle at how you seemed to pity him. As far as you were concerned, he was just like the other mad scholars, exiled after coming in contact with forbidden knowledge and hardly lucid. Over the course of just a couple of days he learnt about your name, how you lived and the people you knew. As much as he cringed at the idea, playing along with the mad scholar act was, for now, the best option for him. The Akademiya exiling someone completely conscious to the desert was rare and mostly unheard of, since most cases didn't survive for very long. It would raise a lot of unwanted questions.

And so he put up with your countless antics. You provided him with food, clothing and a place to stay and would always talk to him, claiming that talking to the mad scholars might help them a little and make sure that they don't feel alone. Baseless theories, he mused. Yet, he found himself giving the idea an amused smile when you weren't looking.

Basic care turned into you spending more time with him. You took him to see the stars at night, explaining the constellations to him even though he knew them all by heart and never responded anyway. You'd take him to see the street musicians at the village during sunsets and told him about your life. It's not like he could tell your secrets to anyone. Or at least you thought so. He saw no point in doing it either.

On most days, he was bored. So he might as well listen to what you had to say. But with time, he found himself more and more infatuated with you. Sure, you didn't know who he was or what he had done and you were simply giving him hospitality, but never had anyone treated him with such kindness and gentleness. Of course it was all based on a lie but he found himself craving your attention and care. He missed you when you were gone to do your work, your absence made his days seem dull. At the time he had convinced himself that it was simply because he had nothing else to do. In his heart, he knew this wasn't true.

When you thought he was sick and had put your hand on his forehead to check for his temperature, then cupping his cheeks gently to look into his eyes; your touch was a burning sensation to him, yet he wished you would never let go of him.

Something about your presence made him feel more human. Made him feel like for the first time in his life there was a place he belonged and it was by your side. All of his interactions with others had been based on either research or trying to hide his true self from them. Trying to keep his little world from escalating and falling apart, for if he allowed for mistakes it would inevitably lead to ruin. It would lead to him being exiled from his village and from the Akademiya. But it had also led him to you.

You, who was unaware of the monster he truly was, who had welcomed him into your home. You, who treated him as a friend without asking for anything in return. It was too cruel to both you and himself to keep up the illusion.

What he didn't expect was the chuckle you let out when he revealed to you that he was in fact not a mad scholar. "Yeah, I've known for a while now", you smirked at him, "I came home from work to pick up something I had forgotten and I saw you picking out a book from my shelf, reading the titles aloud and starting to read in one of them. I knew then you were fully aware of everything around you. But I gotta say, you're pretty starved for affection, aren't you?"

You remembered how he had leaned into your touch when you held his face in your hands and now you were teasing him about it. But all was forgiven when your hands reached for his face again, your fingertips gently caressing his cheek. "So...would you finally like to tell me your name?"

"Zandik. My name is Zandik."

A couple of centuries had passed since then. The Doctor smiled to himself, reminiscing about those times. You really had caught on pretty early and seen right through him.

"What's got you smiling like that? Successful experiment?", you entered his lab, pulling him into your arms before placing a soft kiss to your lover's lips. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing back tenderly. "I just remembered how we met", he told you between kisses, grateful for the love you had given him. You still looked at him with the same adoring expression you had back then. You still loved him, despite everything he represented.

"I love you", you whispered against his lips before closing the distance between the two of you again, kissing him passionately. His lips tasted like the strawberries you had one of the segments bring to his lab earlier, to ensure that he was eating something.

"I love you too, my dearest. I feel like I don't tell you enough....but I would give you the world", with you he was so uncharacteristically gentle and caring that most of his assistants wouldn't believe their eyes if they were to see the Doctor hold you like this, "I will. I'll give you the entirety of Teyvat."

He sealed his promise with a deep kiss, pouring all his love for you into it. "You're all I need", you squeezed his hand, running your thumb over his wedding ring.

#genshin impact #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #yae publishing house #dottore #il dottore #dottore x you #genshin impact x reader

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ghostoffuturespast · 1 month

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WIP Whenever

Tagged by @wanderingaldecaldo @morganlefaye79 @streetkid-named-desire @corpocyborg Thanks y'all! 🧡👻

The writing front has been very slow lately. Ideally I need like 6-8 hour blocks of time to just sit down and write, and my one day to do that has been occupied by social things and appointments the past few weeks. So writing has been minimal and in the tiniest bits and pieces. I do have a pretty solid 10 pages rn though, so I'll take it.

A lot of times for sections with a lot of dialogue, I'll write the dialogue first to make sure I really nail the flow of the conversation then go back and add all the speaker tags and actions. For this snippet I removed my mess of notes about who's saying what, so you all can have fun guessing lol!

One of my fav things to do is incorporate world-building and plot relevant details in as dialogue. It's a really seamless way of informing readers but it's also a subtle form of foreshadowing on my end.

Me and my multi-chapter setups, playin' the long game here...

Wash, sorry in advance for shit talking your woman. I think it's hilarious that Mitch is in on this too though lol

“–Militech’s been awfully agitated lately, saw a twenty vehicle caravan cruising around the 101 on that last scouting trip. Don’t think they’re planning on sniffing around here do you?” “If they were lookin’ for the panzer they would’ve come and collected by now. Think it’s the fact that Arasaka’s stocks are in the shitter. And it ain’t just them either. You know the corps, always tryin’ to sniff out opportunity.” “Yorinobu’s been doing a sloppy job of sweeping this whole debacle under the rug. Ever since he took over it’s been one mistake after another. It’s about time the whole empire toppled.” “I imagine the president is trying to see how far she can push her luck.” "Don’t think it’ll hurt her chances? Even with it being an election year?" "Pfft, please. There hasn’t been an honest election since [insert date here]" “After her last attempt, you’d think President Myers would’ve learned her fucking lesson by now. Unification my ass.” "Well, with Arasaka hobbled and a newly elected mayor, what better time to test the waters? Militech and the NUSA have all the opening they need to jam their feet in the door." “Ugh, do we really have to talk about corp drama over dinner? Again. That is all you old farts have been talking about recently.” “Seeing as Militech backs the NUSA and that they’re contracted to guard the borders between the NUSA and the Free states. Yes, we are talking about it, Panam. As one of the leaders for this family you should be paying attention to these kinds of things. They are the ones we have to tangle with every time we move." “Yes, because politics is such an influence on all the illegal activities that are our livelihood. Does it really matter which corporation or government is in charge of what? They are all the same. We will figure it out regardless.” "It helps to know the players on the table. Who they are. What they want. The more information you have the easier it is to navigate the situation, read the field." "As much as I see your point, I was really hoping to avoid the leadership lessons for at least one meal." "It’s not a responsibility you get to turn on and off, Panam." "Well, Saul, any chance those leadership lessons will help sort out the kitchen? It’s been mystery chili for the fifth night in a row."

Also, I found these fun series of videos which are an abbreviated history on NC! If you're into unraveling all the lore like I am or just need something that doesn't require a ton of research, these are great little primer!

youtube

Tagging with no pressure: All the people that tagged me @wanderingaldecaldo @morganlefaye79 @streetkid-named-desire @corpocyborg & @shimmer-like-agirl @baublekute @elmknight @mynonsenseistingling @vox-monstera @fly-amanitaa @spacervanguard @scarlettspectra

And it doesn't have to be writing or CP2077 related!

#cyberpunk 2077 #writing #fan fiction #fic: so it goes #wip wednesday #wip whenever #i really do love the aldecaldos #they are a lot of curmudgeonly old farts #old wrinkly avocados #and those are some of my favorite characters to write

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saintsenara · 5 months

Text

back with more for @hprecfest - although i'll be skipping day three because i have the concentration span of a kitten and therefore no chance of making it through a podfic...

day two: favourite comfort fics

two boys kissing by writcraft sirius black/severus snape mature | 6.8k words

why i recommend it:

because I'm a sucker for both sirius and snape getting a happy ending, and this fic delivers this within a beautiful, gentle examination of the horrors of sirius' young adult life and the way that hope and desire are things he clings to during the lonely misery of his confinement in azkaban. the repeated motif of the sky always gets to me:

when he showers, he whistles a song. he’s not sure he knows it’s name, but he can remember strobe lights and the way snape looked when he was as young as sirius can remember him being. that was back in the days when severus tried so hard not to be queer and sirius thought he had everything to live for.

sirius spits out toothpaste into the sink and contemplates himself in the mirror. it looks like there’ll be a thunderstorm tonight. he puts his toothbrush into the glass and moves into the room, poking his head out of the window. the wind has gathered momentum but the sky is clear.

he breathes in the air and watches the stars.

so bracing by @kellychambliss minerva mcgonagall/severus snape teen | 9.2k words

why i recommend it:

because i love to see older woman/younger man relationships in fandom - there's still far too few of them - and because i love to see fics from the perspective of minor characters, and this, which is as much a careful and generous character study of tom the barman (and the town of skegness) as it is of its central couple never fails to make me smile:

tom took the chance of sitting down again, and when he didn't get tossed out on his arse, he felt a little emboldened. "and you thought you wanted this? life in a muggle pub in skegness?"

snape loaded a glass into a dishpan, and then another. and another.

"my family," he said, just when tom had decided that he probably wasn't going to say anything at all. "my family wasn't one for holidays. it was all my father could do to keep food on the table, once the mills failed. and once the drinking started. but before all that, there was one summer -- spring, actually. may. we couldn't afford high summer season. da somehow saw his way clear to taking my mother and me to the seaside. i was about six. we came here. skegness. we froze our arses off."

"skegness is. . . so bracing," tom murmured, and snape snorted.

"in a word. three days in a grotty little caravan. cheap, greasy food. saw a sad muggle magic show." he loaded more glasses with a crash. "i loved it. fucking loved the lot of it. "

never gonna give you up by @laeveteinn harry potter/lord voldemort teen | 15k words

why i recommend it:

because it makes me shriek. i'm not usually a fan of either professor harry or professor voldemort fics, but it turns out that my exception is when they're forced to work together as a team because harry's newly-divorced and adrift in a world which no longer makes sense and voldemort's a ghost who's obsessed with memes:

“what are you thinking so intently about?” voldemort murmurs. “you mustn’t overtax your brain, it wasn’t meant for hard activity.”

harry snorts. “honestly, i’m just trying to figure out where albus got his bad taste in men. it’s not ginny; lars isn’t actually that terrible.”

and for some reason, voldemort lets out a lengthy sigh.

clay by @titconao3 harry potter & severus snape general | 46k words

why i recommend it:

because i have an unstoppable fondness for the concept of redemption, which is hugely and unfairly maligned in this fandom, and this story is an astonishingly beautiful meditation on the theme, not only in how it approaches both snape and harry as they come to terms with the war and what it has taken from them, but in how it portrays tobias snape and his own reckoning with his past and quest to make amends with his son:

tobias was on a roll. “you lot, always talking about your magic, waving your bloody sticks around like it makes you better than us normal people…” he slammed his hands on the table and severus shuddered, his fists opening and closing around nothing. he’d left his wand in the room; it wasn’t like he could use it, and he had to trust potter could deal with tobias snape. the man was nothing, to a boy who’d faced the dark lord and come out the victor. “you’re not. you’re not! your goddamn magic… we’d have been better off without it, i’m telling you.” severus looked again through the crack and saw tobias with his back turned on potter, his shoulders shaking. he was angry, but not yet taking it out on potter. maybe he was scared of potter’s wand; maybe now that he was sober he was better at keeping his violence in check. either way, severus didn’t trust it would last forever. it never had, before.

to forgive divine by jellybeany neville longbottom/draco malfoy teen | 7.4k words

why i recommend it:

because there are days when you need eighth-year fluff, and this sort of fluff is so rarely given to neville as a central character, but it should be:

he’d wondered if it was something like that, to be honest.

because, because. malfoy was always so interested. he’d read in a fortune cookie once that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it's indifference.

which was a rubbish fortune at the time, but it’s relevant now.

#hp rec fest #asenora fic recs #sirius black #severus snape #minerva mcgonagall #harry potter #lord voldemort #neville longbottom #draco malfoy

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warsofasoiaf · 2 months

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Per your request: Godfrey character analysis please?

There's a lot to Godfrey, which is almost confusing given that he swoops in almost out of nowhere after your Tarnished has done all the hard work of collecting the pieces of the Shattered Elden Ring, burning the Erdtree, and releasing Destined Death in combat with Maliketh. The game almost encourages you to fight him down before he swoops in to steal your hard-earned victory right from under you. But Godfrey is far more complex than that, and if you include cut content, he ends up being one of the principal architects behind Marika's scheme.

The Lands Between was not simply an empty land waiting for Marika and the Erdtree. There were rival gods with their own rival orders that Marika had to conquer. Well before the Golden Order, the Erdtree was wild and chaotic, and everything was in opposition to the new way of being. Marika took a fierce barbarian chieftain, Hoarah Loux, whose bloodlust and ferocity knew no equal. As a chieftain, Hoarah desired nothing more than to fight and destroy, and fought with overwhelming strength and beast-like cunning. While we do not know what exactly led Marika or Hoarah Loux to be fine with the arrangement, since everything was in opposition to the Erdtree, it was a perfect place for someone who wanted a never-ending series of battles to fight. He was crowned as King Godfrey, and his axe tells us that knew his own truth, "that a crown was warranted with strength." Through countless victories, Godfrey and Marika turned the Erdtree into the embodiment of Order - far from the wild primeval current that it started out as, where the dew and blessings thereof flowed freely.

As warlord for the Golden Order, the newly-minted King Godfrey restrained his bloodlust but kept up his aggressive campaign of expansion. He sired a son upon Marika, named Godwyn, the Golden, first of the demigods. He turned to the north, to where the Fire Giants kept their Flame of Ruin and worshipped a rival god, the One-Eyed Fell God. Marika had her own rival churches built in her wake, and on the evening of the campaign against the Fire Giants, she implored Godfrey and his warriors, which included allies like the Crucible Warriors, the icy warriors of Zamor, and turncoat lesser giants called trolls.

In game, trolls are hulking brutes typically used as dumb labor (except in Liurnia) with literal swords driven through them as draft animals for caravan pulling, but aside from being an early game headache, they're also full of lore. Their exposed viscera is not a mere visual design choice, it's meant as a comparison to the Last Fire Giant who has the eye of the Fell God on his chest. By cutting it out, they turned their backs on their god and fell in with the Golden Order. In true FromSoft fashion, we're left to speculate why they would make such a radical choice. Their minds are gone, and although it's not said why, the fact that the trolls mutilated themselves to turn away from their god (a wound that doesn't heal), it's not hard to see why. Following Godfrey's victory, Marika kills the Fire Giants save one, and forces him to be the tender of the Flame of Ruin. He still maintains a connection to his god, but he guards his fire relentlessly. Perhaps, like Hewg, Marika's supreme presence (and the failure of his own god) so impressed upon him that he becomes devoted to his mission to the point of losing all sense.

While ceaseless battle suited Hoarah Loux, an Elden Lord to a god and the champion of a Golden Order required more than just might. To suppress the bloodlust that consumed him, he bound that part of himself within a spiritual councilor, Serosh, the beast. Beasts were known to be drawn to lords (and prospective lords, like Bernahl). In many ways, Serosh is a model for early civilization, a transition from tribal belief to civilized life, requiring a command of agriculture enough to build a population surplus. This requires more than warring with the world for daily sustenance, hence, the civilizing effect of agriculture and scientific development mirror Godfrey binding his bloodlust to become a lord.

After his victory, we can chart a rough path of Godfrey's expansion via the numbered Churches of Marika. The First Church is in the Mountaintop of the Giants, then they head west to the Altus Plateau, suggesting that this is when they started to build up the capital city of Leyendell, to create a grand splendor and dispose of the Omens beneath. The Third Church is in the east of Limgrave, suggesting that this is when Godfrey faced the Last Storm Lord in Stormveil Castle in single combat. After that, the Fourth Church of Marika shows that his trek led him to the Weeping Peninsula, where a lone hero seeking vengeance fights Godfrey, only to fall at his hand. Vengeance is one thing, but a crown is only warranted with strength.

After there were no more worlds to conquer, Godfrey wept like Alexander for there were no more worlds to conquer. As they returned from Castle Morne, they were stripped of grace and became Tarnished, exiled from the Lands Between. Where this happened is a mystery. The actual echoes are heard in the Third Church of Marika, but the command continues in the Church of Pilgrimage, where they are commanded to fight, die, and after death, return to the Lands Between. This seems heartless (and in fairness, Marika has her moments of brutality and callousness), but in cut content, we see that at some point, Marika desired to overthrow the Golden Order. She tasked Hewg with designing a weapon that could slay a god (presumably the Elden Beast, as opposed to herself), and she tasked her demigod children to grow strong or be forgotten. Given that some of them pursued paths directly in opposition to the Golden Order, there is a strong suggestion that she knew what was going on and hoped for someone to become mighty enough to slay the Elden Beast. In a cut dialogue, she shares her plan with Godfrey, and he in turn seeks to help her, to become mighty and be granted audience once more. And so Godfrey left, becoming Hoarah Loux once more, fighting until his axe broke and his body was crucified, dying in a nameless world.

One of the most telling hints of how far you've come in the game is in his introductory cutscene. After Morgott fades, the faint hint of grace can be seen in the background. This has been your constant companion, pointing the way to the next objectives. Yet if you see the pattern in the spectacles, it's coming off of Godfrey, and toward you. In Marika's scheme, Godfrey's next task is to go through you, to assert his claim, as "a crown is warranted with strength," and a lord can brook no rivals. In battle, Godfrey fights as a regal lord, with strong axe attacks. He cuts a majestic figure with his spectral lion and flowing blue cloak. He looks like a lord, and fights with strength, but honor. There's predictability and rigidity to Godfrey, the First Elden Lord. If you knock his health down enough, he gives pause. He realizes that his limited strength is not enough. He tears Serosh's head from his shoulders, the councilor that had advised the Golden Lineage, and becomes Hoarah Loux. And fittingly, his stance completely changes. His cloak is in tatters, and he leans forward with a bestial snarl and savage stance. He fights savagely, with big sweeps, wrestling moves, and earth stomps, drenched in blood. This is Hoarah Loux, the warrior that desired to subjugate all before him with no thought of what happens next. It takes the Tarnished's full measure to defeat him. When you do, he falls, but he acknowledges his own mantra to the end. If a crown is warranted with strength, then the superior strength of the Tarnished befits a crown.

Thanks for the question, Mistland.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

#elden ring #elden ring godfrey #character analysis

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misquitz · 27 days

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tell me more about the red heads.

#redhairisthebest

More character infortmation below

Ankha was born to a prostitute in a Kou slums, having been an unfortunate side effect of a night with a man from Heliohapt. Her mother was killed at the hands of a client when Ankha was younger, and Ankha almost went out the same way when she had joined the same business. Before then she often took care of other children of prostitutes and thanks to her sisterly personality, she was well liked amongst the poorer population.

It was when she was attacked by the client did she meet Horus and Mustafa, eventually joining them in their journey for the promise of food and sanctuary in exchange for her employment (not as a prostitute for them dw). She was with Horus when he captured his dungeon and, with his trust, she became a member of his household.

Ankha is not her real name.

Mustafa, like many other fanalis, was a gladiator slave, forced into the ring to make his owner money. He regrets allowing himself to be forced to take the lives of many others while fighting. :( One day, Horus had paid a pretty penny, buying Mustafa from his master. While his intentions were known to no one but himself, Mustafa was strangely given the opportunity by Horus to leave and live his own life, or be dropped off to the Fanalis Corps in Reim.

Instead, Mustafa had voiced his desire to work for Horus, desperate to repay the kindness he was given and knowing no other life than servitude. Since then he has taken up the role as a sort of bodyguard for Horus (however unneeded it may be) and was present when Horus had captured his dungeon, becoming the other and final member of his household.

While his role was somewhat unneeded, he did save Horus' life once before.

Narchis was one of the lucky few fanalis not enslaved into fighting, instead being forced into manual labor. He helped carry heavy equipment, materials, moving, and building. When he wasn't forced to help with construction, he was sent off to help in the fields, unload cargo, and animal handling. Truthfully, Horus didn't have much interest in buying him off his owner, but the fact that he was a fanalis swayed his decision. Now an employee for Horus and not a slave, he was given pretty much the same responsibilities as when he was a slave, just in a lower demand and has since been given better working conditions, rest, and food.

It was his decision to also take up protecting the caravan while on the road and had gone up to Mustafa, the only other fanalis he knows, to ask for training in how to fight. During downtime, he is now often seen training with Mustafa, though ends up on the ground a lot.

Since he's in a more positive environment, he's become more optimistic and talkative.

#magi #magi oc #magi: the labyrinth of magic #magi labyrinth of magic #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi fanart #magi the adventures of sinbad fanart #magi the kingdom of magic fanart #magi the labyrinth of magic fanart #magi the adventures of sinbad #anime art #fanart #anime fanart #magi the kingdom of magic #ask my ocs

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