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paarthursass · 7 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 Companion!Tav Ask List

What if your Tav was a recruitable companion, instead of the main character? (contains major spoilers for the game, and for some dark urge runs as well)

General

Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?

Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed? What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?

Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp? How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game?

Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner)

Story Specific

How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor?

How do they advise the player character on Raphael?

How do they react to Astarion biting the Player Character?

How do they react to the Player Character letting Abdirak whip them?

How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power?

Will they stay with the Player Character regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings, or is it possible for them to leave the party permanently?

What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party?

Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with?

Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander?

How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?

What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown?

Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin? How is Orin's deception revealed? How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal?

How do they react to the PC either allowing Astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn?

How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer? Can they offer to become one themselves? Does their reaction change if they’re romanced?

How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them?

How do they react to the Dark Urge killing Alfira?

If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2?

Romance

Is your Tav a romanceable character? Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?

Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?

Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option?

Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?

Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take?

How do they react to the player character breaking up with them, or choosing another character over them?

What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test?

If they’re poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with Halsin?

How do they react if the PC has sex with Mizora? The Emperor? Haarlep?

Will they join in with the PC and the Drow Twins, or no?

What are Tav’s plans for the future? Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in?

Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #ask list #oc ask list #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #i've been thinking about this au for far too long now and i've written FAR too much about aurel w it #also i'm sure the durge portion of this is incomplete but i haven't gotten super far in my own durge playthrough yet so. bear with me #anyways. pls ask me about aurel im unwell abt him

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casualhedonists · 5 months

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism (lmk if i forgot anything!) murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here

chapter: 1/? (chapter 2 here)

MASTERLIST

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

A/N: this is what happens when i let my brain loose to do whatever tf it wants (title is from attention by doja cat as is the general theme)

Show you how to touch it Hold it like it's precious It don't need your lovin' It just needs attention

You were getting tired of this charade.

Snow was courting you, or so it would seem. In truth, it was all for show. He was seen with you on his arm at public events, just enough to make it look like you were together. Marriage was probably further down the line, but Snow was in no rush for that to happen. For now, he was pleased with the positive attention he received for appearing like a reliable, loving, doting partner.

“There’s a science behind it,” Cordelia, Snow’s preferred public relations manager - and one of the Capitol’s best - had told you in a meeting between the three of you, discussing strategy, coordinating events, and how best to make the relationship seem authentic. “The more the public see you as grounded, committed, and warm, the more respect they hold for you. The more open they are to your ideas, and any changes you make as president.”

You’d concealed your smirk well enough for it to go unnoticed upon hearing that.

Snow was a lot of things, but he was never warm. The name itself decreed it. He was cold, calculating, sharp witted, manipulative. Power hungry.

You were fine with the arrangement at first. It suited your thirst for power; despite coming from one of the richest families in the capital, Snow’s power was of a different breed. You wanted in, and so when your social circles crossed over and the proposition was made, you’d risen to the occasion.

The reality was this: it was a good arrangement. Coriolanus was adored and admired by any outsider with a pair of eyes, and you got anything you wanted. You got to live in the manor house Coriolanus occupied, eating good food while being waited on hand and foot. You got to network with powerful people in the highest of society. Even if you wanted someone executed, it would be carried out in turn, without question. Name it, and it was yours. Snow was a generous host and ally to you.

It was everything you wanted.

Almost.

Somehow, despite it all, all the custom gowns shipped in from the expensive designers, the buffet spreads and the silk sheets, the way that people had begun to stare in respect as soon as you walked into a room, there was just one thing that itched at you, one thing you knew wasn’t part of the plan.

It was Snow.

Somewhere, between the light kisses in front of expectant eyes, the gentle hand on yours at dinner, that was hurriedly removed once you were behind closed doors again, you’d grown a gnawing, incessant want towards the man that had given you almost everything you could ever hope for.

Eight months, this had been going on. Eight months since Snow suggested this business proposal. Sex was never a part of the deal. And of course, you couldn’t sleep with anyone you pleased; that would be catastrophic for both of your reputations. And so it had been eight months since anybody had touched you other than yourself, biting your pillow so nobody could hear Snow’s name on your lips as you gripped the sheets. Even if you wanted to sleep with other people, you couldn’t. Truth is though, you’d developed rather expensive taste. A taste for only him. Even if you had the choice, nobody else would do.

You wondered if he ever thought of you while he touched himself. That thought slipped into your head every so often, when your hand was between your thighs. Then it became a more frequent occurrence. Then it became a nightly one, and by then, you were pretty sure you’d started going crazy.

You weren’t a romantic - this arrangement would never have worked if you were. You were like him; power hungry, relentless, impatient. And most of all, when you wanted something, you got it. And you wanted to seduce Coriolanus Snow.

So you’d started leaving breadcrumbs. Put an extra glint in your eyes when you glanced over at him, in public, first, and then in private more and more. You’d thrown out dozens of your more conservative dresses, keeping only the shortest ones that hugged your hips and dropped tantalisingly low on the neckline. Started wearing them more around the house, pretending to drop things just so you could bend down in front of him.

You estimated this act would last for a good week or two before Snow folded.

You were wrong.

If anything, it seemed to render Snow even more indifferent to you than he’d been before you started playing your little games. And each time he ignored you, glanced unimpressed at your outfit then looked away, or full-on walked right past you out the room, you started to simmer even more.

A normal girl in a normal situation would take a hint, cut her losses. But you were no normal girl, and this was no ordinary situation.

You had to be in the same boat, surely. Snow was still just a man, after all. A man with similarly limited options, and you knew he must’ve at least found you a little attractive, else he wouldn’t have chosen you to parade around on his arm in public, in pretty dresses and expensive jewellery.

Snow’s indifference only fuelled your fire. Sure, an ordinary girl would just give up. But eight months of this torture and you were at your breaking point. Besides, it was either him, or nobody. You weren’t giving up. Not in this lifetime.

So you got more obvious. Started taking breakfast in your nightgown each morning instead of getting dressed, sitting opposite Coriolanus with several feet of the mahogany table between you, biting into grapes from the fruit bowl and letting the juice trail down your chin, wiping it off then sucking your fingers clean, humming with your digits in your mouth, glancing at him with full-blown bedroom eyes when he’d look over at you from behind his paper.

It was no use. Nearly a month had passed and he’d barely even looked at you for more than a second at a time. Your conversations were short, lacklustre and strictly business related. You’d even tried playing on his heartstrings, asking about his day and work and his family. You were lucky if you got more than blunt, one-worded answers every time.

You’d exhausted yourself with all these failed attempts, until one Thursday night you heard footsteps walking past your bedroom door. This wasn’t abnormal - Snow kept extensive household staff - except for the sound of these were different. You recognised the faint clicking of heels against the hardwood, a sound you heard all the time at galas and balls, but never in these halls, when an event was nowhere on the radar. And this was one such night.

Your curiosity led you off your bed and to the door, gently opening it to glance outside. Whoever it was had turned the corner, the clicking fading down the hallway. You carefully closed the door behind you and began to follow the sound. A chill ran up the backs of your legs as you walked; it was getting slightly colder as winter closed in, and your bedroom attire wasn’t exactly fit for the weather, given that you picked out the laciest, most impractical slips to sleep in, ready for your performance the next morning at breakfast.

You paced down the corridor, winding past the door to each room, a study, a small library (the larger one was downstairs), Snow’s office, and then finally, at the end, the door to Snow’s bedroom.

Oh.

This room was always enigmatic to you, as you’d never been inside. Your obsession with Snow had led you to wonder, day in and day out, what lay behind that door. The color of his bedsheets, what sat on his dresser, the contents of his closet, what aftershave he wore that had caused you to develop a practically pavlovian reaction anytime he got close to you.

You paused, a few feet away from the door, fearing Snow’s response if you crossed that line, if he were to walk out and find you hovering between his office and his room, clearly attempting to eavesdrop.

You heard shifting, then voices inside as you focused all your attention onto listening, trying hard to pick up on the conversation. You took another tentative step forward, practicing in your head what you would say if he stepped outside. I just wanted to ask what you wanted me to wear on Monday’s gala, I was thinking the white dress with the gold detailing. It wasn’t too late in the evening for that to be a viable excuse, if you could make it sound convincing enough.

But as you got closer you noticed something. There was a soft light spilling out from behind the door, which was in fact, just slightly ajar.

Snow usually kept the door locked at all times, you knew that from testing the handle - admittedly more than a few times - when he had been out of the house, and you were certain he wouldn’t be home for hours. This was something different. This felt dangerous, like walking a tightrope that was about to get cut, but the thrill of adrenaline pushed you forward.

You’d stopped hearing voices by then. You snuck ever closer, ears starting to ring as you found yourself drawn to the open door, taking silent steps towards it until there was no going back, and your body was practically flush to it. Holding your breath, you peeked through, pushing it ever so gently, praying that it wouldn’t creak. You had to crane your neck slightly to see any movement in the room, but it didn’t take long to see it, and when you did, you certainly didn’t feel cold anymore. Any curious whims on the color of his furniture and walls were long pushed to the side, because you couldn’t have focused on anything else in the room if you tried.

Snow was sat on a deep red velvet ottoman at the foot of his bed, shirt buttons undone and pushed behind him, leaving you with a full view of his chest. Your eyes panned down to see his usually pristine dress pants rolled carelessly down, pooling around his ankles. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows in a similarly rushed manner. One hand was behind him, propping himself up, and the other was tightly gripping a handful of blonde hair, belonging to a girl that knelt at his feet in nothing but black underwear and stiletto heels - the culprit of the footsteps - moving her head up and down as Snow roughly guided her, lips parted, head tipped back, eyes firmly shut, breathing roughly. A few strands of damp blonde hair had fallen to his temples, just enough to make him look disheveled, yet somehow still regal, like a greek god.

You stood there, frozen. A million emotions battling for dominance in your head, anger, panic, fear, raging jealousy. Desire.

That was the one that stuck with you in the moment. It was a good thing Snow’s eyes were closed and the girl’s back was facing you, because your feet were firmly planted on the ground, watching this scene unfold, and you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere even if you tried. Watching as Snow’s breathing got heavier, as his grip on the girl’s hair got tighter and more forceful. Watching as her one arm gripped his thigh, and the other moved to where her mouth was, out of your eyeshot, and the obscenity of this was made somehow worse by the fact that you couldn’t see exactly what was happening.

Firstly, because it allowed your brain to fill in the blanks as Snow hissed through his teeth and dropped his head back. Secondly, because from this angle, you couldn’t see the girl’s face, and you were able to picture yourself in her place, wet mouth wrapped around him, being the cause of his undoing.

Come to think of it, there was another reason you were glad you couldn’t see her face, and it was purely for her sake. Because if you could’ve seen her, you would’ve had no excuse not to kill the bitch then and there.

You could hear, though. You could hear her soft moans and the lewd wetness of her mouth as her head moved even faster, before Snow took full control as his hips started to jerk, holding her head in place. There was a fire in the pit of your stomach and your lips were parted, staring. Knowing that if even for a second, Snow opened his eyes just for a glance, he’d see you immediately. You’d be hanged, probably. Or worse. And yet you didn’t run; you couldn’t. Nothing on God’s earth could’ve caused your feet to turn you around and leave the room. It was like you were suspended in some dream-like state, hearing going fuzzy, head spinning.

Then Snow started groaning, breath hitching in his throat as he got closer to the edge, you could hear it. Your brain began melting, and you didn’t have time to think through what would happen after he was finished and he saw you. If you were going to be hanged for this, it would be worth it, you thought, as his hips started to jerk even faster and his groans turned into strained whispers. Fuck and that’s it and good girl, and finally, as his eyes squeezed shut even tighter, and he came into her mouth with a strangled cry, you heard a name.

Yours.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth #ugh i haven't written in so long and this is my first time writing for this fandom go easy on me pls

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easy-there-leftovers · 7 months

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I See You, Darling

[Astarion x reader] The idea never left my mind, and I so very badly need this right now. Heavily inspired by this cutscene where Tav chooses a dialogue option and Astarion's eyes just deviate-- (gif above, just wait for his eyes to look at you WKDKWKDK) |Word count: 2k.| Based off of this post I made.

Part 2 here!!

Also, this is more heavy on the world building rather than dialogue. If I end up making this a series, I might write with more dialogue in mind but it was just necessary to do this first afhjaqfbnjkafbnebn--

A story in which an overworked art student longs for a fictional character that they've devoted so much of their time to.

Alternatively; Astarion realizes there's someone else watching him. And he can't wait to get acquainted with them.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine.

You’ll admit, perhaps you were simply tired. Attending a prestigious school for the arts doesn’t exactly leave you with much free time to indulge in more calming forms of recreation. Your course requires you to consume a wide array of media to expand your library of creativity, after all. All in the name of generating more interesting media to entrance and enthrall your audience with your original work.

Maybe all the moving pictures and swimming texts have caused you to greatly misunderstand what you are seeing. Surely, your favorite character isn’t looking directly at you, right?

Right?

But before that, let’s review what might have happened earlier to explain just what exactly in gods name is happening.

Shall we?

——

You purchased the game a few months back. “Baldur’s Gate 3.” A game that took the players and immersed them in the world of Dungeons & Dragons, introducing them to the mechanics of tabletop RPG as they did. It seemed interesting enough. And if the concept of character creation and storytelling didn’t sell you on the idea of it, the pretty faces on the cover certainly did.

So, with the little money you could spare from your part time job at your own institution’s library, and with what little sanity you had left to argue with, you impulsively bought said game. And it was fun. Exhilarating. Electrifying.

Until you ran into a problem.

Astarion. The rogue, elven vampire that you have chosen to romance after careful deliberation. You scoffed to yourself. He was one of the biggest reasons why you purchased the blasted game at all. You’ve carefully studied the character in all his glory, from his striking carmine eyes and delicate unstained curls, to his aptitude for bloodshed and all manners of gore. He was such an interesting character, giving you more and more reason to pursue him as the story progressed. Yet the same can’t be said about your relationship with him. Or at least your “Tav’s” relationship with him.

You’ve had some difficulty in deepening your relationship with the ex-magistrate. It seemed as if no matter what options you chose, no matter what manner of advances you made, he’d be quick to dismiss you. Painting you as a desperate little pup as he did. Denying you the opportunity of further knowing him. You’ve created and overwritten more save slots than you'd like to admit, perusing each one to select different lines of dialogue only to be rejected time and time again.

You thought it strange. But perhaps this was simply the way his route was meant to unfold. He was such an incredibly complex character after all. Perhaps this was meant to prove the party’s loyalty.

But that didn’t stop you from being frustrated with other aspects of the gameplay. You've spent countless nights hunched on your work chair, back curving like a dead bug as you analyzed each and every possible outcome in combat. Eyes, bloodshot from cutting your sleeping hours short, just to endure the story until you were at an appropriate place to log out. And hair, flicking and curling out in different directions due to you weaving your hands through them in exasperation.

You saw your reflection on your screen as it darkened to load the next scene and you couldn't help but stare at your character in slight envy. You know full well that however you designed them, it wouldn’t affect how the others perceived you, and yet you couldn’t help but pretty them up for your own interest. You designed it with yourself in mind, but making them far more attractive than you would ever be. Effortlessly beautiful as they stirred to wake up in the forest you settled in for camp.

How could Astarion ever turn this beautiful being away? If not for their heroism, then surely their looks would be enough to draw him in, no?

And speak of the devil. Once you could control your character again, you readied them to interact with your sharply dressed companion. Wanting to try your luck once more as the bright sun shone upon your character like a promise of a new day. Unfortunately, you’re greeted with a look of boredom, oh so familiar, that you sigh. “I hope you’re not here to beg—” Mocking him, echoing the words you’ve come to expect with faux mirth in your voice. But you cut yourself short when you realize he has yet to say anything.

Strange.

What’s even stranger is that he's just staring at you. Well,--- he’s staring at Tav. Your character.

“What the fuck…?” You move your mouse around, clicking to try and toggle the dialogue options to no avail, screen stuck in a cinematic close up of his face. Much like how the camera always pans when awaiting your response.

However, unlike the common script of his actions that you’re used to, the one that you’ve memorized like a well practiced dance, his eyes smoothly glide off of your character and onto you.

You freeze, but your heart doesn’t. The beating of your chest growing stronger the longer he looks at you. Eyes, blood red like rubies, boring into your own. He regards you, blinks, and then smiles that deviously charming smile of his before your screen turns dark. Your computer turns off, and you stare in shock of what just happened.

‘No fucking way, no fucking way, no fucking way—‘ You’re not delusional, right? Sure, you’re tired, but no fucking way did you just imagine one of the hottest characters you’ve seen in a while break the fourth wall just to fuck with you.

You laugh to yourself.

Yes, you’re just tired. Nothing like a good four hours of sleep can’t remedy. Although, as you get up from your chair, foolish as it may seem, you grab a used shirt from your floor, and hang it on your computer in the case that those piercing eyes come to life once again while you sleep.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you get ready for the day, you notice your dirtied clothing still on your computer. Covering it as if it were a petrifying doll from a horror movie. You feel childish for doing so, reasoning that you were simply stressed from the events that taken place prior and removed the cloth.

As you did, your screen was brought back to life. Showing you the next night as if your little "tryst" with Astarion never happened. An entire thirty minutes or so of progress seemingly gone. Thankfully, you saved just before your game went haywire and you attempted to load up your last slot.

Zzzt Zzzzt!

Alas, your game was not cooperating once again. You tried the save just before that and the same error screen presented itself to you. ‘Maybe this is a sign that I should just fucking work instead.’ Irritated at the thought, you moved to log out of the game but a familiar voice convinces you otherwise as the screen returns to normal.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?”

‘Is this— a romance scene?!’ Astarion had never initiated an interaction before! Perhaps the game gods were granting you mercy. Or maybe, something you did last night might have given way for this line of dialogue to open up. Regardless, you happily took the opportunity and began reading your choices.

“Why, hello pup. How was your awfully short slumber?” ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Well. Thank you.

It’s none of your concern, fangs.

Better now that you’re here.

What happened last night?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

What…did happen last night? You don’t recall anything past the blackening of your screen, but it looks like you did something after that which caused this dialogue.

You don’t want to squander this opportunity, who knows when this will happen again, but your curiosity gets the best of you. So you save, and choose option 4.

“Oh, you poor thing. Spooked you, did I?” He laughs, seemingly taking in the look of confusion that graces both yours and Tav’s face.

“What do you think happened last night?”

“My fucking game crashed.” You answer automatically.

Tav moves to open their mouth but is silenced with a tut. “Not you, spawn.” His eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement, but the way his mouth is pulled in a tightly-lipped smile offers you further insight otherwise.

“I need your answer.” His eyes are on you yet again, and you feel the world begin to spin.

——

You stir awake after your short slumber. Your body, heavy like lead, though not at all a feeling foreign to you. You think about what happened last night, wondering if it was all a dream. Yet as you plan to get ready for the day, you notice you’re not exactly in a state to do so. You expected to wake at dawn, the dark and cool air to greet you as it fills your room and envelops your walls. Instead, you wake to see an endless amount of evergreen and the smell of the dark and damp grass beneath you filling your senses.

And if spending hours, weeks, months, of playing this damned game has taught you anything, you know that you now reside in the heart of the forest that you usually set up camp in. But this time, you're far from your bedroll and the fire that your party created.

One.

Two.

Three.

It takes you three seconds to comprehend what just happened. Three seconds for you to try and save the progress you’ve already made so far to no avail. Three seconds for you to feel the chill of dread run up your spine.

And this chill so does love playing games.

You clamber away on your knees when you hear that deep chuckle of his emanate from right beside your ear. Creating as much distance to inspect this figure you’ve yet to face.

You see Astarion in all his vampiric glory. ‘Well, for a vampire spawn, I guess.’ You comment to yourself. Crimson eyes, darker than you imagined, with full, dark lashes contrasting his pallid skin and pure hair that glow under the moonlight. An unsettling, and cursedly attractive, smirk curls onto his lips. His ivory fangs on full display as he does.

“It seems as if those useless artifacts were worth something.” He marvels at his handiwork, his prize, and approaches it with confidence.

“Well, your character certainly is more ‘prettied up.’” He circles you, carefully appraising his newest asset, and grins. “But you are far more intriguing.”

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster.

“Although, you are very cute. Cheeky little pup, aren’t you?” He jests.

A simple, “What the fuck?” is all you can muster which earns you a click of his tongue in response.

“You’re not broken, are you? Or am I to anticipate your little ‘what the fuck?’s as your only contribution?” Long, and incredibly masculine, fingers crawl and curl to grasp your chin like a spider.

“I’ve waited months to have you. And now here you are, finally within my grasp.” The statement causes something to stir within you.

“What do you mean, ‘months?”

He narrows his eyes, possibly trying to comprehend your stupidity.

“I’ve been watching you. Waiting, for the right moment. Interacting with this– caricature of yourself until you could deny yourself of me no more.” Blood rushes to your head. Your cheeks burning in embarrassment for seeming overly eager. And in panic as his intentions have yet to be cleared.

“And now that I’m here? Do you want to kill me?” You feel your heartbeat in your ears, awaiting his response. Your eyes wide in fear, yet trying to fake heroic bravado in the attempts to gain the upperhand.

And in this moment, he thinks you absolutely invigorating.

“Oh no, sweet pet. I’ve waited far too long for that. I’m going to make you mine.”

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

Should I make this into a series? "The adventures of a misplaced artist in Baldur's Gate!!" Or something like that. Let me know, lol

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion x you #astarion x mc #aware!astarion #to be continued #or maybe not lol #I haven't written anything in so long #and for good reason #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader

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rebrandedbard · 1 month

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How does the great Sandpiper successfully smuggle 130 children out of the Nilfgaard-occupied territory of Hamm? With the power of a forgotten story, a traditional song, and a masterful lie.

A piece for my upcoming fic, The Piper of Hamm, based on The Pied Piper of Hamelin, next in my fairy tale series.

#FINALLY finished this wip from literally TWO YEARS ago and it only took an HOUR to add the background and stuff #my art #my witcher art #witcher #the witcher #jaskier #The Piper of Hamm fic #I'm basically writing all these fics in order on a sticky note #you can see why I haven't gotten around the the Howl's Moving Castle or Stardust AUs yet because of this #TWO YEARS I had this idea #and it is only now being written #my life is pain lmao #but I've never been invested in a fandom this long so I think I've finally found my forever fandom #and the need to write these aus is still strong #so we'll see them one day

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peridots-pixiwolf · 2 months

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[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

#survivor rain world #monk rain world #hunter rain world #nightcat rain world #gourmand rain world #artificer rain world #rivulet rain world #spearmaster rain world #saint rain world #enot rain world #slugcat rain world #rain world #peridots-art #< feels like too long since that last tag's been used. i can say with certainty that the majority of the reason i haven't been just as #active here (not to mention not drawing as often since that's relevant) is just due to my life getting busier with a new school year but i #do miss putting my stuff here! and would like to reblog more on top of that.... so forgive not remembering exactly how to tag everything #(and how to write everything up there but to be fair it's not like long textposts were a staple of mine. i mostly just rambled and it was #fun hehehe.....some of those notes (parts of riv/spears mostly) were written around the beginning of the drawing itself)#OH i messed something up with the drafting and really did not mean to post it while tags were in progress! but regardless. i would've liked #to post it tomorrow to mirror how i was going to post it on JAN 29 a month ago......but it's not like i'm unhappy with this outcome :]#to sum it up really though it's been strange working on this for so long.....unfortunate to not get a chance to let it be seen and keep #experimenting with odd biology much earlier but i'm just glad it's out now cause i am proud of these!! it's been a lot of fun and slugcats #are still my go-to doodles :] if i had to end this off promptly though what's up with that secret pipeyard shelter as gourm that's not on #the maps. connected to vs_a04. doesn't appear on the miraheze or interactive maps for anyone strangely but i've only been there as gourmand #anyway! i'm sure there's a lot i could've said in the rush but goodbye dear reader anyway :]#i forgot spearmy initially. i'm so sorry

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karizipan · 6 months

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orv dump 5(?)

#do NOTTT look closely at the last one absolutely hate the rendering and how yjh turned out there #so sorry to her she's just here to fill out the space cjwhqkdkd I'll edit this img and change it when I get to render it better...#but for now... The version I don't like HELP #rizdoodads #orviz #orv #Commentary time #first img oooh sorry it's taking so long rizashdaff nation HELP #I've finally rendered Han sooyoung in there after 1 billion years. Still haven't rendered the sword... Baby steps kuno! Jhwke #2nd img ARGGHH I think I'll redraw some parts of it but overall... I'm iffy on it KWHEKF we'll see if this survives as it is!#3rd img. Redraw of my previous uriel. Thought abt fake clip-on bangs and honestly I thought it'd be cute! And it was #4th img oooh this was for yhk week freeday but my stupid ass made it like this one long img and it was midterms week #<- could not finish but the idea is yhk domestic marriage life #5th img based off of that beautifully written transfem yjh fic emmm IN REDRAWING THIS I PROMMYYY I DONT LIKE IT PLEASSEEE DONT LOOK AT IT #Anyway that's all 👍

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losticaruss · 10 months

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chronicles of narnia: prince caspian will forever be a tragedy to me, especially in the way the movie presents it. it opens with peter, desperate to return to the respect he deserves (or thinks he deserves), a fully grown man trapped in this child's, this stranger's body, still adjusting to the life he'd long since forgotten. he gets into a fight because it's natural to him. don't they realize who is he is? not selfishly (a little bit selfishly) he expects people, his siblings, the crowd, to be with him in battle. it's another battle to him, and edmund, lovely edmund, young edmund, edmund who was 12 and on the verge of death, edmund who loves his siblings the most one could ever love your own blood, is in the fray with him, and they fall back into the rhythm they were used to back home- back in narnia, and lucy and susan are screaming at them to stop, and edmund and peter see the soldiers coming home from war, and all they wants is to go back with them, and they understand how these soldiers feel, shell-shocked and distant and they want to fall into line with them, but they're kids and they're fighting other kids, they're not undisciplined, they're unadjusted. nothing changed but so did everything.

and they hop on the train and none of the pevensies want to talk about what happened and they end back in narnia and they're finally back in narnia they're home on the beaches of their home and it's a joy so grand that there's nothing they can do but go back to being kids- again, and they find cair paraval, and everything's gone- and the chessboard that edmund loved, the chessboard he played on when he first beat peter, is gone, there's nothing left of it, and they fall through the ruins like ghosts. here's the dining hall, the ballroom. remember this, lu? it used to be your bed. do you remember when you were so homesick you begged me to stay with you until you fell asleep? do you remember the way the garden bloomed in the spring? and they fall naturally in step into the dais, empty, not even the familiar sound of their shoes clacking against the polished floor. everything's gone now, of course it is. they knew how time worked in narnia, but it didn't happen to them. how could it move on without them? and they make their way into the lower floors, peter naturally falls into the trait of the leader, hes the first to forget the world they came from, but edmund, clever edmund, desperate edmund, brings a torch. he doesn't say how he packed it in his bag every day, how he packed it and prayed that they'd return. and everything is still there, in that room. nothing prepares you for seeing statues of your face- not your face, but what will be your face, what used to be your face- cracked and covered in moss. their crowns are there. everything is there. peters sword returns to his side, and it's the first time he looks complete since they left narnia. and they adventure- how much had changed? the trees are so much taller. how long now had they been gone? it was natural for narnia to have moved on, but they were meant to move on with them. peter tries to bring his siblings through his usual shortcuts, through an overpass, far from the well-trod paths that had cropped up since theyd been gone. he can't have been abandoned by his home, not so soon.

but he was. and there's a kid here, claiming to be the new ruler of narnia. who is he? he looks so young, and susan is looking at him and he's... looking back? and the civilians are looking at this stranger, this kid, like he's supposed to know what to do. had he even fought a battle? he rubs his beard- and is blocked by the bare skin of his chin (of course it's not there. he forgot.) and peter wants to be the bigger person, he's the high king, that's how it should be. but there are all these emotions he hadn't felt before- he thought, not in narnia at least. and he doesn't want to be the bigger person, he finds. stop looking at him like he should know what to do! he stands up to take over- his people forgot about him. he left and they forgot. and he sizes up this child as he speaks- high king peter of narnia, he says. the magnificent. and there it is, he thinks. the familiar look, shock, awe and- confusion? that's a new one- but not incorrect, as he realizes his situation.

he wants to be recognized how he used to be. the pevensies have returned to what they were, the warrior, the archer, the diplomat, the healer. and this new one, the one who wanted to be all four at once so desperately it made ed look wise. and finally- finally he gets his chance to shine, where he belongs, on the field, against The Enemy. of course, not how he'd like it, not in broad daylight, sword and armor gleaming, but it was the smart move. and he's filled with these emotions- not dread, or worry (maybe a little worry), but excitement, and everything is pounding in his head and the adrenaline- he forgot how good it feels- and he leads the army, his army. he's the warrior, the high king, and for a night, the people remember, they remember the golden age. and ed is brilliant, and peter can't help but grin with glee as he sees him pull of a maneuver that pete knows took months of training.

and then the hoards come and they're losing- they can't be losing, this was his chance! he's right, he's the king this was his chance to show them. and he cries for a retreat but it's too late- he was a fool, he watches his army, the army who trusted him, he watched them be slaughtered against the gates that had sealed their fate. he watched the blood spray and stain the metal, oozing between the stone bricks and he just stares. and it's all he can do and he wants- what does he want? to say he's sorry? to save them?

no- no, nothing like that. he should be in there with them. he should be gutted like the rest of them (a hero's death, not this cowards life). he went in too fast, too proud, he knows that. but to have these innocents follow him in willingly, blindly, and he's the one to make it out? it's unforgivable.

and then he's given another chance. a fight- a duel, to the death. he leaves the arena a victor, or he dies a martyr, and everyone forgets his sins of the night of the ambush. and he fights the best he can, he loses his helmet, he's injured and he can hear death whistling it's grim tune, and he almost doesn't pick up his sword, and he sees edmund, lovely edmund, young edmund, with hope in his eyes- with faith in his eyes, and peter knows, he certainly doesn't deserve the life he's been longing for, but he picks up his sword because his little brother, his little brother who almost died, whom he loves with all his heart and so much more. and he accepts it. he realizes he won't get it back, his golden age, but he can fight for edmund, for narnia. and he fights. he fights and he fights and he fights.

and when it's over he breaths the sweet narnian air, and he clasps the hand of caspian, another brother, not a blood one, nor a narnian one, but one of a deeper connection, deeper than any love, and he sees susan smiling. the pevensies and caspian are celebrated like kings, and the pevensies help caspian, still a child, overwhelmed with all this love, they guide him through it, preparing for the many days in the future when parades and celebrations fill the streets, and the people adore their rulers- their king.

it's their last time, he tells the others. once they leave, him and susan can't return. there's more on the other side, the other world, another way to return to narnia, to Aslan, and he doesn't share the fear in his heart. another way, but not this way. not through his home, where he's surrounded by it, drenched in it. not the same not the same, never the same again. they could stay, of course, says a foolish side of him. but not, they couldn't, it's stupid to say so. his mother- had he forgotten his mother so soon? she would go mad with loss. his golden age, it's come and past, and narnia moved on without him, and he steps through to the train station, not to his home, (no. he can never go home again.) and susan follows him, and she grasps his hand, a look shared between the two of them that she understands. and peter, one last chance to be the bigger person, he sees her loss and he squeezes her hand back. edmund and lucy they think they understand, and they grasp their elder siblings hands, and it's comforting, but peter and susan know, they know they won't understand, not until it's their turn, they won't know how empty it is, how lonely it is in this world.

so yeah. it's a tragedy

#whoops thinking about the pevensies.#haven't done an absurdly long essay on characters who's tragedy has worked its way into my brain and rotted it through in a while so #here ya go #the pevensies #the chronicles of narnia #prince caspian #didn't mean for this to be most about peter but #HES GOT SO MUCH TRAGEDY AND ITS PORTRAYED AND WRITTEN SO WELL #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #also used read more cause DANG it got long fast

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thefloorisbalaclava · 8 months

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Simon doesn't open up to many people. He finds it better to remain emotionless around other people. He did not want pity. He didn't want to hear "Everything is going to be okay".

He wasn't sure if it was his way of responding to any sort of trauma. He doubts anything would ever be as bad as what he had gone through long ago. The thing he had never shared with anyone.

Until you.

You sat across from him, tears staining your cheeks, as he finished telling you everything. It was like a weight off his shoulders, but he was also worried. He didn't want pity. He didn't want you to treat him any differently now that you knew his deepest, darkest secret.

He hated to see you cry, but he also felt a sense of relief from those tears as if you were shedding the tears that he should have long ago.

When you stood, his stomach dropped. He was sure you would walk out, disgusted by what he told you. Hell, he knew he felt disgusted with himself. It's the very reason he hides his face, the reason why he doesn't look in the mirror unless he really has to.

He felt his shoulders sag as you stood there. But he tensed up again when you approached him.

"Stand up," you told him, and he did.

Then... you wrapped your arms around him. He stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do.

Then you said it. You said the words that would just about bring down every brick in the wall he had built around himself.

"It's okay to not be okay," you murmured as your head rested against his chest.

His arms seemed to move of their own accord as they slowly, hesitantly, wrapped around you, hugging you back. You let out a small sob and he let out a silent sigh of relief. He gripped the back of your shirt tightly, holding himself back from crushing himself against you.

He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so good, so relieved. He wanted to stay like this forever.

"Thank you," he mumbled without even noticing.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #i haven't written in so long #sorry if this is cringe #headcanon

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thegreenthepeacetheorange · 4 months

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I decided to write this little Everlark piece, based on this post of mine yesterday:

It happens suddenly. First the thunder, then the rain. It shatters against the roof and the windows, drowning out all other sounds. Peeta grips the back of his chair and his eyes take on that distant look that tells me he’s been transported back to the darker times, back to the Capitol. I sit still, unsure of what to do, staring at his bowl of lamb stew that now sits on our wooden table untouched as little tremors take over his body. What can I do? I want to go over, to wrap my arms around him, but he’s said before that sometimes he just needs time to himself – so I don’t. After half an hour, I’m about to stand up and go around the table to him when he gets up shakily and says he needs some time to himself. He walks away, mumbling something about water and Johanna and screams.

I sit tense in my seat, my own bowl gone cold, and stare at the rain clattering against the window. Peeta had opened the window earlier in the day, to let in some fresh air. Because I’d refused to go out today. Because it had been too difficult to even get out of bed. Until Peeta had scooped me up in his arms and carried me downstairs half an hour ago, despite my weak protests. He said he’d not gone out of his way to get this lamb stew for it to be wasted. Now the rain drips in through the top opening in the window and pools on the ledge. I’m reminded of the rain dripping in through the cave in the first Games. Huddling against Peeta in the sleeping bag, trying to absorb his own warmth into myself as the cave grew colder around us. My inept attempts at flirting with the good-natured boy with those blue eyes that settled and unsettled me. Those kisses that twisted my insides with something warm.

Before I know it, I’m up and moving. Pushing the chairs away from the table, putting our bowls into the little oven to reheat. I muster up all the strength I can to push the table closer to the sofa that sits a few metres away. Once it’s close enough, I grab the blanket off the sofa, draping it over the back of the sofa and the table, creating a sort of canopy, like the one Peeta made to protect me from the rain in the cave. Peeta’s art books prove to be sturdy enough to weigh down the blanket corners on the table to keep it from slipping off. I then strip the sofa of its cushions and carefully place them under the canopy and the table, creating a soft floor we can sit on. More blankets thrown in on top. The lamps from the kitchen counter and outside in the hallway then make their way into my den, casting a soft glow inside.

I’ve just retrieved the bowls from the oven and placed them inside my little makeshift cave when Peeta comes back into the room. He looks weary, tired. Once he sees me bent down under the blanket, the bowls of steaming lamb stew, his face takes on a quizzical look. “What—” “I thought maybe we needed to… escape to our cave for a little while,” I hold out my hand, inviting him to join me. He raises his eyebrows at me, ruffles his hand through his wavy blonde hair before he crouches down and follows me under the canopy. I snuggle in closer to him, throwing one of the blankets over us, and then another one to make sure Peeta’s legs are covered. I carefully place our bowls on our laps.

“Eat up,” I say, looking up into his tired eyes. He gives me a soft smile, the kind that always melts my insides with its warmth, before he picks up his spoon. We eat quietly, listening to the rain pouring down outside. Periodically, Peeta scoops some of the dried plums out of his own bowl and adds them into mine. I accept them with a smile, realising just how hungry I’ve been after a day of staying huddled in my own bed. After we’ve fully emptied our bowls, Peeta reaches up outside our den to place them onto the table above. He settles back inside, stretching out to lie down, his head propped up by cushions. I instinctively lie down next to him, draping my leg over his and resting my head against his chest, feeling its steady rise and fall. His arms tighten around me and I can feel his breath tickling the top of my head as he bends his head down into my hair. “So… how about that kiss?’ I laugh before I make myself rise up enough to see his grinning face, look into those blue eyes that have come back from the distant place to seek out my face. I feel his lips smile against my own as I lean down to kiss him.

#everlark #everlark headcanons #everlark fanfiction #katniss and peeta #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #thg #the hunger games #i haven't written anything in so long so i'm aware this is not very good but have it anyways

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osamusriceballs · 10 months

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One week

Bokuto x fem reader

Warnings: NSFW

Words: ~ 1,7 k

About: Just Bokuto missing you so, so much. And kinda cumming too fast.

It's been a week.

Only one short week of you being apart.

You remember how you held Bokuto's face in your hands and told him that you'll miss him—and how he adorably pouted and told you that he'd miss you more and win this game for you and make you proud.

You had smiled and told him that you're always proud of him, and he had simply wrapped his arms tightly around you and kissed you goodbye.

It's been a week since that moment, and now you've been anxiously waiting for him to come back.

He did win the game. For you, baby, as he had proudly reassured you on the phone, telling you that he'll make sure to take the next flight to visit you—and you know he will come home any second.

A rustling noise of keys makes your ears perk up, and after a few moments that seem like forever, you finally see him.

Koutarou.

"Y/n!" His energetic voice echoes through your whole apartment, and you barely manage to get up before he already makes his way towards you and wraps his big arms around you.

"Baby, I missed you so much. So, so much." He emphasizes every word by pressing kisses against your cheeks, your lips—everywhere he could reach, his full lips feeling soft against your skin, just like you're used to remembering his touch.

"I've missed you too, Kou." You smile and press yourself closer to him, not leaving any distance between your bodies now. He instantly responds with his hands coming from your back to your hips, holding your body in a firm grip. You look up at him, noticing how intently he's suddenly looking at you. You squirm in his hold, a sudden feeling of want and need rushing through your body—oh, how you've missed his touch too during the past week. He seems to feel the same, his hands roaming around your body, wandering up on your shoulders, and resting on your ass cheeks finally, gently squeezing the soft flesh.

"Baby, can we... can we go to the bedroom, maybe?"

Your heart stops for a second, your body already tingling with slowly building anticipation. As much as you want to talk to him, you also want to be close to him- and, oh, how much you crave his touch now.

"Please." You tilt your face upwards and press your lips against his—in a deep and intense kiss, hoping to feel the same hunger from him, and he is quick to push his tongue into your mouth, turning the kiss into a messy tangle of tongues, lips molding against each other, and bodies pressing hardly against each other. His hands move from your ass to your thighs, and it only takes him one firm movement to grab them and wrap them around his waist. You grab his shoulders and bury your hand in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his soft fluffy hair, slightly pulling on the strands because you know the effect this has on him. He groans into the kiss, blindly stumbling in the direction of the bedroom, not paying too much focus on anything else besides you. You mentally bless his reflexes and strength for saving you both from falling when he stumbles against his bag that he had left on the ground, and he slightly pulls back to focus on the way, walking into your shared bedroom with a few hasty steps.

His grip on your thighs tightens when you rake your nails against his chest, feeling his muscles under the black shirt, your breathing pattern irregular when he finally reaches the bed and stops. An excited grin is displayed on his face when he turns to sit on the bed, the motion effectively placing you right on his lap. His hands leave their place on your thighs and wander under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your stomach, grazing against your ribs, causing a whine to leave your lips while you involuntarily try to close your legs—a futile attempt when his thighs both rest between yours.

"Baby, I missed your body, missed touching you like this." He breathes out when he roams his hands against your bare skin, feeling you everywhere within his reach. "Kou, please touch me." You know that you sound whiny, that he is already touching you, but you just need more of him—you want to feel him everywhere.

"I am, I am, already touching you. What do you need, baby? I'll give it to you." One hand comes up from under your shirt and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are full of love and affection, a dark need lingering behind these pure emotions. That's the Koutarou you've been missing for so long—

"Want to feel you. Want everything." You mumble, knowing that he will take care of you so good—he always does. And he immediately nods and leans back to pull his shirt over his head, effectively leaving his upper body bare—and god, the smooth sun-kissed skin covering his muscular body makes your cheeks burn and flush. You push against his shoulders, and he gets the hint and rests his back on the bed, waiting for you to join him. And you're quick to lean down, still sitting straight on his crotch that you feel hardening with every shift of your body, and you start to kiss down on his neck, making your way down to his collarbones and chest. "Baby—" his voice has turned darker, more needy, and he throws his head back into the pillow when you lick and bite the skin on your way to his prominent v-line and to his dark happy trail right above his boxers.

"Baby—" a loud whimper leaves his lips, and he suddenly bucks his hips almost to your face. You lift your head and look up at him, his chest heaving heavily, and he suddenly sits up and leans down to kiss you intensely.

"Wanna feel you, baby. Please let me." He gently grabs your arms, and now it's your turn to lay on your back, and he gently pulls your shirt up to expose your chest. Your hands fist the sheets underneath as he pushes your bra to the side, and his head instantly leans down to kiss the valley between your tits. "Kou—" a gasp leaves you at his eagerness when he leaves messy, wet kisses against your body, but his hands already fumble with your pants. Bokuto helps you shed yourself out of your pants, and your panties are quick to follow.

You barely register how he undresses himself; in the next second, he's already hovering over you again and gasping your name against your neck.

"Y/n—missed you so much, baby," his voice right next to your ear makes you shiver in anticipation and you know he won't make you wait any longer. You arch further into him and push your hips against his, until you feel his bulge against your stomach. He grinds against you, the hardness of his cock pressing against you, and you slowly bring your hands down his back to bring your hand between your bodies to his cock, but he is quick to stop you when he realizes what you're about to do. "Can I—put it in already? Wanna feel your warmth, wanna be buried in your pussy." A shiver runs down his body, and you nod with a breathy whine when he lines up at your entrance.

So full. Only the head of his cock nudged between your legs, and you already feel full. He slowly inches deeper, the stretch delicious and welcome, especially since you haven't seen him for quite some time, and your body is overwhelmed with sensations and feelings. "Kou—"

"It's okay, baby. It's okay. I'm here." He keeps eye contact as he pushes deeper, but you can see him struggling as well, with his breath shallow and fast and his face blissed out.

He moans loudly for you when you clench around him, the sound unrestricted and loud in the room, and you tug on his silvery-white strands as a response. His moan changes to a whimper, a cute needy sound coming from this big, beefy man, and he finally allows his hips to move, to feel your warmth and wetness. You know you're already dripping for him, making his cock wet, and the lubrication makes him easily glide in and out of you. The first few thrusts start steady and slow, but the whimpering sounds won't stop coming from his lips, a few beads of sweat running down his forehead while he slowly ruts his hips against yours. "Baby—I'm sorry—" he gasps and presses his head against your neck. "Can't fuck you- like I want to—'s too much, missed you too much—" his hips suddenly stutter, and his body tenses on top of yours, and you feel him cumming, the warmth filling you up and making you feel so good while he cums and cums, throaty moans escaping his lips along an incoherent mixture of your name and prayers.

His body finally goes limp above yours, his massive weight caging you underneath, and you gently rake your nails against his back and caress the smooth skin under your fingers.

You stay like that for a few seconds, only your rapid breaths filling the room, until he tenses and sits up a bit to look at your face.

"Baby—I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cum so fast," another whimper leaves his lips when his softening cock slips from your pussy, and his cum starts leaking out from you. It's a lot. You felt him cumming before, and you know that he usually cums quite a lot- but the amount that's starting to leak from you now is insane.

"Kou—you came so much. All for me?" You ask and bring your hand to his cheek, only for him to lean into your touch. "All for you, baby. Haven't touched myself since I last saw you. Wanna give you everything, always."

He brings his lips down to yours and connects them in a deep kiss, his body slightly trembling from having just finished. He pulls back eventually with a look of sadness on his handsome face, and you know that he is disappointed in himself. "You didn't finish, baby. I want to make you feel good too." Your heart swells with affection at his words, and you smile at him with hearts in your eyes probably.

"It's fine. I'm feeling really good already."

"Y/n, baby." He smiles when he says your name and fully lifts his body, his prominent muscles on his chest and arms all showing when he leans back and looks down at you. "You know that I can give much more than that." He grins, the sweet playful grin that you love so much on him, and he leans down to kiss down on your body, his hands holding your waist and pressing you down to the sheets, and you know exactly what he's up to.

"Now, I'll make you feel really, really good, baby."

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im-a-marvel-ous-hoe · 5 months

Text

Baby, Please Come Home | Bucky Barnes (1st Day of 🎄)

(Credits to the owner of this gif!)

Hello hello hello! Alondra here! I haven’t written anything in a long time, so I apologize if this is shit lol I’m doin a 12 days of Christmas sort of thing and I’m praying that this doesn’t flop 😅

Christmas Masterlist <- check out my other holiday fics! ✨

~~~~

“Merry Christmas, doll.” I heard Bucky’s voice through the phone, his tone in a slightly higher pitch than usual. I smiled to myself as I sat down on the couch, startling Alpine for a moment as she was just starting to fall asleep. She yawned and stretched out her little white paws in front of me, her claws peaking out as she started to climb onto my lap. The princess has spoken. Looks like I’m gonna be stuck here for a little while.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.” I spoke. The realization that we’re not spending Christmas together this year comes fluttering to the front of my mind no matter how much I've tried to ignore it these past few weeks. The only sense of warmth I have of him in our house is some old shirts he left behind and our baby Alpine. She’s quiet and craves cuddles, just like her dad. “It uh… it doesn’t sound as good on the phone as I was hoping than in person, does it?” He chuckled out, trying to find a way to lighten the mood. I shook my head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see me. “No, it does not.” I replied, clutching my phone close to my ear trying to imagine that he’s here right in front of me and his voice isn’t so staticy.

“You want to say hi to Alpine? She’s right here.” I looked down at the small animal on my lap as my hand began softly scratching her head. “Of course I do! Put her on.” I placed my phone on the arm rest and pressed the speaker button on my screen. “You’re on speaker, baby.” I heard him shuffling on the other end of the line before speaking up. “Alpine? You there?” The cat’s ears turned up and looked towards my phone. “You takin’ good care of your momma?”

She stood up and leaned closer to my phone, inspecting it. It’s like I could see the cogwheels in her head turn as she wondered how she could hear her dad’s voice if he wasn’t here. “She’s been keeping me company.” I smiled and heard him laugh on the other end. “Really?” He said. I could almost picture him smiling. “Yeah! We’re best buddies now. We have so many intellectual conversations.”

“I can’t wait to see it in person. I gotta get Sam to help me figure out how to take a video so I can just do it without messing up when I get home.” I chuckled at the thought of poor Sam having to deal with Bucky’s lack of phone knowledge and the constant bickering they’re bound to have. I swear, sometimes he really does act like a 100-somethin’ year old man. “Sergeant Barnes, you are something else.”

“Hey, you know I still have trouble understanding! I didn’t grow up with this kind of thing.”

“Then how is it that my grandmother is able to figure out Facebook better than you?” I laughed as he grumbled. “Your grandma had more time to figure it out! It’s not my fault she’s hip.”

I could just imagine what his face looks like right now. His eyebrows are probably scrunched up, his gaze is on the floor and his lips are pouty and just waiting to be kissed. I let out a chuckle and looked around our house. The decorations were put up soon after Thanksgiving. We played Christmas music in the background as we both decorated our tree, Alpine seeming to think this is another place for her to climb and make hers. Once Bucky put the star on top, everything just felt perfect, even though I knew I wouldn’t see him on the day of. “I’m really sorry that I wasn’t able to be there this year.” He said. “I tried my best to – ”

“Bucky, don’t worry about it. It’s okay, I completely understand. Our line of work doesn’t exactly allow us to have vacations, sort to speak. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I know, doll, but still. I thought I would at least be home for Christmas.”

“I know, baby, I know but there’s nothing else we can do about it. We’re in two different places and flights are backed up, so I guess we’ll just have to make due with what we’ve got.” I could feel tiny vibrations on my leg as Alpine purred against me, my hand not stopping to show her love. She seems content. He sighed and spoke up once again. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

I smiled. “I know you will.”

He cleared his throat as if he was trying to mask the sound of something. “Bucky… was that.. were you in a – ”

“Baby, did you get the thing that I sent you yet?” He cut me off as I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. “Um.. no, no I haven’t. I haven’t gotten anything.” He let out a groan. “No? Are you sure? FedEx promised me it would arrive in time for Christmas.” Alpine leaned in closer to my hand as I scratched the top of her head. “Doll, can you please do me a favor and keep an eye out for it? It could be arriving any minute.” I smiled to myself as I nodded. “Okay, I will.”

“I wanna hear as you see what I got you for Christmas.” I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “Bucky, you know I will love whatever you got me, but what I really want is you and I don’t think FedEx can send people over like that.” He let out a laugh. “Maybe they’d let me if Steve was to put in a good word.”

“You’re such an idiot.” I laughed and Alpine stirred in my lap, a quiet reminder for me to not move or else she’s gone and she’s the only thing in this house keeping me company. I could hear him huffing on the other line as I tried to figure out what he’s doing. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“What do you mean where am I? You know where I’m at.”

“No, I mean are you outside? I could hear you huffin’ and puffin’. Are you trying to keep warm?”

“Maybe there’s another reason why you can hear me breathin’ so hard. I’m talkin’ to a pretty girl on the phone and she misses me just as much as I miss her.”

I stayed silent for a moment as I processed his words and gasped. You cheeky little fucker. “James!” My outburst along with Bucky’s laugh startled Alpine once more as she got up and left. “No! Kitty come back!” I could hear him practically wheezing in the background as she left to God knows where in our house. “What happened?”

“You made me scare Alpine out of my lap!” I whined as he continued to laugh at my expense. “Hey, you were the one who got the joke late and yelled, scaring our poor baby Alpine! That’s not my fault!”

“It is too! If you hadn’t made that joke, I wouldn’t have reacted that way!” I’m sure my face must be red from embarrassment as he continued on. “And to answer your question, with no hidden dirty jokes, I went out for a walk. I couldn’t stay in that hotel with Sam trying to find ways to decorate my arm with holiday decorations. Note to self, don’t let Sam buy tinsel and say it’s for the “tree at the Stark Tower”.”

I smiled at the thought of Steve being in the middle of these two teasing each other like children and not knowing which side he should take. Hearing his voice, even if it’s not crystal clear, makes me forget for a moment that he’s not here. There’s almost this sort of echo in the house that really makes you feel like you’re alone. It still breaks my heart, but I wouldn’t tell him to make him feel even worse about it. He’s trying his best and that’s all I could really hope for.

But I do wish he was here. Wherever Bucky goes, that’s home.

“Hey, I’m gonna take a wild guess here and say that you didn’t take the trash cans in like I asked you to.”

I was silent for a moment as I thought about what he said. “You didn’t, did you?” I shook my head and spoke. “Um no, I’m pretty sure I did.” I tried to lie and pretend like I didn’t forget, which in fact I know I did.

“Oh, really? Hmm… are you sure? ‘Cause something is telling me that you forgot.” I smiled and leaned back more into the couch and got comfortable. “I know I tend to be forgetful, but I’m pretty sure I already took them in.” I heard him chuckle. “Alright, alright I’ll believe you. I know you wouldn’t lie to me, baby..”

“Trying to put the guilt trip on me even when you’re not here, baby?” I laughed and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. “I’m just stating the facts.. oh, hey, one second! I’m getting another call. I’ll be right back.” I waited for him as he placed me on hold and began to browse through Netflix to look for some good Christmas films to watch.

Before I could go to my suggestion list, I heard the doorbell ring.

“Weird, wrong number…” I heard his voice once again as he took me off hold. “Hey, I just heard the doorbell ring.” I spoke as I went to stand up. “It’s probably FedEx. Go check it out and take me with you!” I stood up, grabbed my phone and went to go and find a sweater to quickly put on. “Just uh do me a favor.” He requested. “Sure, baby. What is it?”

“I know you’re lonely at home, but try not to check out the delivery man too much, okay? Even if he is very handsome.” I laughed and shook my head. “Ohh, I don’t know Barnes. I gotta see what kind of a package I’m lookin’ at here.” I joked as he laughed. I walked over to the front door and opened it. My body stood still as my phone fell out of my hands.

“Delivery, for Mrs. – ” Before he could even finish the sentence, I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him towards me. I could feel and hear him laughing against me as his arms embraced me tighter into him. I could feel the cold air from outside come into the house, but I didn’t care. He was warm and he was standing at our doorstep.

He pulled me back so he could look at me and I could see a sheen of tears in his baby blues as he leaned down for a kiss. Both hands cupped my cheeks as he held me in place, his cold lips meeting my own. He’s grown out his stubble and it lightly tickled my top lip. I reached my hands up to tug at his hair and felt him smile against me as soft moans of content left his mouth. He pulled away too soon for my liking and looked down at me and laughed.

“Did ya miss me, doll?” I pulled him in for another kiss as he mumbled against my lips. “I can hardly tell.” His metal hand moved a strand of hair away from my face as he continued to smile at me. “But… how are you here? You’re supposed to be in – ”

“I know I know but we managed to finish the mission early and catch a flight. Turns out, Steve doesn’t mind using the Captain America card to get on a plane while running late.” He chuckled. He rubbed small circles on my cheek as I leaned into him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He leaned in to grant me one more kiss before pulling away to make a comment. “I know it seems hard to believe, but I made you a promise that I will try to be home for Christmas and I keep my promises… unlike someone I know who didn’t bring in the trash cans.”

Fuck…

“Oops? You’re not upset, right?” I asked as he shook his head. “No, baby I’m not upset. I could care less about them. I’ve just gone and gave myself the best present a guy could ask for… the love of his life, crying and cheeks reddened in his arms, clinging to him with all the might they can muster..” He laughed as he held me against him.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere… now let’s get inside, get a warm drink and see if we can warm ourselves up with each other.” He winked as I playfully slapped his arm. “Let’s go surprise Alpine.”

“Ahh! That’s right!” He walked in and yelled out. “Alpine? Daddy’s home! Where are you sweetheart?” I closed the door behind us and smiled at the thought of him finally being home. He took off his jacket just as she came out from wherever she was hiding. He crouched down as she walked up to welcome him home. “Hey, you. Ya missed me?” He chuckled as he looked up at me.

“Doll?”

“Yeah?” He smiled up at me, his cheeks rosy as he uttered, “Merry Christmas.”

~~~~

I hope y’all liked it! Please let me know your thoughts! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #christmas imagine #Bucky Barnes christmas #Bucky Barnes Christmas imagine #12 days of christmas #12 days of ficmas #please go easy on me #i haven't written in so long #i hope y'all like it #✨🎄✨🎄

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