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#i really love the armour sets
thefirstknife · 8 months
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Getting real sick of a certain subset of Destiny players complaining that it’s a baby game and crying to Bungie to nerf exotics and abilities when their ENTIRE POINT IS TO BE STRONG in specific ways as if they are being locked into using them.
IF YOU WANT AN EXTRA CHALLENGE STOP BEING SUCH A DPS GOBLIN AND JUST EQUIP SOMETHING THATS NOT TOP TIER META AND STOP COMPLAINING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST
MOOD. Go off.
It's incredibly annoying to me. They always use the argument of "the game should FORCE me to do things, I should not SELF-IMPOSE challenges." And like. ? I'm sorry but what? It's a video game for a big audience, it's here to be playable and accessible to the widest possible playerbase. There are plenty of ways to make the game difficult for yourself, so knock yourself out if that's your thing, but don't force others into it.
Like, I enjoy hard content, I regularly at least attempt day 1 raids, I do master raids, GMs, solo and solo flawless content and all that. But only when I want to. Sometimes I don't and I don't want to suffer in a patrol zone or struggle in a seasonal activity I'm doing for the story. The majority of the players don't want that. Designing games for the professional gamers only has NEVER been a good idea and never will be. Fifty streamers can't sustain a video game. It needs casual players who will want to come back to the game instead of feeling defeated.
One of the reasons I really enjoy helping others is because I know that casual players tend to struggle in stuff that's basic activity for me. I've seen people unable to get through a strike. I've sat for 10 minutes rezing someone who couldn't do the jump in a seasonal activity. I want those people to be able to play basic content without feeling frustrated and I want them to know that there are people out there who will help them out.
And this doesn't apply just to basic content, although it should start with that. I think all dungeons and raids and everything should be things that all players can complete. Fine, doing a master raid with all challenges should be tough, but it should be achievable with time and practice, not impossible. What a lot of these "pros" want is just completely divorced from reality.
It takes days and days of practice every time a new master raid is out for me and my team (all with thousands of hours of playtime) to get comfortable to finally finish it. We're far from casual players and it still takes a lot of time to be able to finish hard content. Making it even harder is insane to me. Like, if something is so hard that my team full of people, each with 5000+ hours of playtime and a coordinated team that's been raiding together for years now can't finish it, that means it's absolutely impossible for probably 90% of the playerbase. That's wild to me. Raids and GMs should have more people playing them. If master raids are too easy for you, Mr. I-Play-Destiny-For-A-Living, that's on you buddy. Unequip the super god tier god roll meta guns and loadouts or play something else.
And ofc, another excuse they make is "if I don't use meta, I am not going to win a raid race!" Then don't. Idk. Let me play you the tiniest violin. This affects literally nobody except a grand total of 50 people. Run your meta in day 1, and play with random shit otherwise. Play raids with all white weapons. Play without mods. Play without a HUD. Do things solo only. I don't know, make up a way to spice things up for yourself. I'm not interested in that and neither are 99% of the players out there. The game is genuinely hard enough for the majority of the players. On top of that, I am here to feel like a powerful space fantasy superhero. I am NOT here to die to dregs in patrol zones. If there's ONE thing that I know for a fact that put people off from Lightfall (as in this year of Destiny), it's the difficulty changes. They're annoying, frustrating and for some a barrier to entry more than anything else.
#destiny 2#gameplay#ask#long post#i really do love helping but i can't not feel bad because once the people i helped are out of my fireteam...#...there's no telling what other experiences they'll have#there's so many speedrunners and people who don't care and people who just aren't helping and are instead mocking others#you can only do so much for a few people you see in activities#this season's activities are super tough. every time so far I've played everyone in the team was struggling#i'm gonna have to start going into altars of summoning with my full support build warlock just to sit in there and help people#istg the 'pros' have to get their loadouts restricted. go play with non-god tier armour sets and guns#equip the same loadout that some casual player has available and let me see you then#this idea that everyone has minmaxed best equipment available at all times is bizarre. please get your head out of your ass#'i have perfectly rolled all artifice armour with perfect stat exotics for every loadout because i have infinite time to grind' okay dude#most of us aren't being paid to play destiny. lmao#'the game used to be hard' no. you got better. you mastered it#why is this so difficult to understand. everything is hard when you first start. 5000 hours later it no longer is#the game is fine. the 'health of the game' is fine. you mastered it and outgrew it#either impose challenges on yourself or find something else#like. when i first started GMs they were almost impossible for me#now i play them for fun. they're still challenging but they're not the same level of hard and I'm fine with that#i enjoy them as content and they're still entertaining#and when a new GM comes out it's a new challenge to master so it'll be hard at the start#as everything ever in the world#if that's no longer enough for you then you just outgrew the game and should probably move on#the only reason why some things used to be hard was poor quality of life that got improved over time#not being able to mantle in d1 is not difficulty. it's just not good design. it was fixed and improved#the bitching about light 3.0 as well. man. just don't use the 'OP' fragments. it's so easy to unequip them#i personally love the variety and all the options i have now as opposed to before#okay tag essay done. fhkajhakfhksjf
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Lilith in N7 armor, though…
It may or may not surprise you to know that I actually have a whole mass effect au planned out in my head. I just…. Yeah. Ava Silva and the weight of the world on her shoulders. Ava Silva giving exclusive sponsorship to every single tech and weapons shop on the Citadel. Ava Silva with her aquarium and her pet hamster and a shadow longer than her life.
Ava Silva, waking up to fire in the sky above Mindoir. Ships blotting out the sky and the trees a smear of sound and heat and light outside her window. It’s enough to make them burst inward, waking her in time to save her life.
Boots in the hall of their little house and her mother running inside the room, pushing the dresser she made out of this planet up against the door they brought with them from the stars. Ava doesn’t know anything but this place – the grass crunchy in winter and the flowers in spring and the leaves in autumn and all the sunsets in summer.
Her mother has old scars on her hands and an old rifle she keeps under her bed and an old set of armour she wears now. It’s broken open across her chest and the gauntlets are cracked, falling onto the wood floor as she looks for Ava, finds her by the window in a halo of broken glass.
It’s weird, too see her smiling and bleeding at the same time.
There’s a second red heart on her chest, and when she speaks she leaves blood spatter on Ava’s forearms. Clutches at her so tightly that Ava is certain she could never let her go, but then she’s smoothing Ava’s hair off her face, tucking strands behind her ear.
She carries Ava to the window – she’s nine, too big for carrying and she squirms but her mother’s grip is iron. The grass is still wet from overnight rain, somehow, even backlit as they both are by fire. The shape of tall trees in her mother’s eyes which are just the same colour as hers. Brown like earth.
The door to Ava’s bedroom splinters and the last thing Ava hears as she’s pushed onto her back – out of sight and out of reach – is her mother telling her to run. This she knows how to do, running laps around the track at school while the other kids are still stretching out their legs. She knows how to do it alone in the woods around their house or down toward the lake, pretending to chase birds or her own shadow.
Ava, running and always, forever after this, running. Away from town, from home, with an old Alliance beacon in her hand, blinking like a red eye against her palm.
They’ll find you, she’d whispered, pressing it wet into Ava’s small hand, and they did.
When the Alliance come they find Ava. Just her. They ask her questions but all she can tell them about is fire, and sitting in the old cabin by the lake, underneath the floorboards with bugs the size of her hands crawling in the dirt around her. Staring at the beacon until she slept again. Woke again. Slept again.
Ten years later she’s on Akuze and everyone she trained with is dead around her. She’s fresh out of basic training and her armour belonged to someone else before her, ill-fitting at the shoulders and the hips. Her greaves rattle when she walks, and everyone teases her about it and then she’s running past pieces of them.
The creature responsible bleeds so much when it dies, and its insides burn where they touch Ava’s skin. When they find her, she’s carrying a fistful of dog tags, spends a week in a medi-gel bath regrowing a fifth of her skin. They recruit her straight into the N7 program, and some nights, sitting in various drop-ships eating expired ration bars, or gunning down mercs, she wonders if her mother would recognise her anymore. They were supposed to be farmers.
Then Eden Prime, the beacon and a Turian called Adriel who wants to bring about the end of the world. She meets an odd archaeologist on a lonely dig site and her name is Beatrice. A sniper on the Citadel called Shannon, who likes to wear blue. Their pilot, Mary, has a knack for pissing everyone off and a soft spot for Ava.
She sits in the mess late at night, when the ship’s circadian lights make everything dim and secret, drinking coffee with too much creamer and listening to Beatrice talk about the Protheans.
It's the wrong time to fall in love.
They win, eventually, and Ava is quietly side-lined for saying too much, too loudly about the Reapers, who want to come down from the sky and burn everything, like the slavers burned her home once upon a time.
And then she dies.
Her body, burned by the mouth of a planet upon re-entry, finds its way into the hands of a shadow organisation called Cerberus, who call her Lazarus and bring her back from the dead. She wakes up full of hairline fractures, her face trying to break open, bleeding red light like her once-small fingers, like running away again and waking up to flashlights, strange voices. Everything about life is circular.
She wakes in the hands of a girl with designer blood and bones not quite as handmade as Ava’s, but close. Her name is Lilith, and the first thing she tells Ava is that the galaxy hasn’t run out of ways to use her just yet.
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galedekarios · 1 year
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fashion souls but make it bg3 🖤✨
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queen-vv · 2 years
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One thing I really like about low rank in monster hunter pre 5th gen is that you feel like a poor, jobbing hunter who gets beat up by even basic monsters (because you’re still getting used to the controls, wow I’d forgotten how much things changed from world onward), having to do everything yourself and go out gathering every other quest to get some more honey for your potions and berries and bone bits to make bullets for your bowgun, and it feels way more real in spite of how janky and unpolished it is in comparison to world/rise. I also like how everyone is belittling to you and doesn’t treat you like a hunting prodigy who’s so cool right away, you have to earn any respect they give you. 5th gen is like being a super hunter but prior to that you’re a working hunter and that’s really cool.
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yellowcrumpet · 2 years
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**Tips hat**
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taupewolfy · 2 years
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i wish at least there was one more steppe themed dow/m set or at least badram's was dyable....really would plop tsol in that more often but it doesnt match my current weapons nicely
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gh0stygray · 3 months
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Lute redesign!! aka the sapphic knightify of lute because I actually really enjoyed her character. I was interested in her way back when she was first teased along side Adam and when I finally got to see her in action in the show I was enthralled, I loved her songs!
For this design I decided to add more armour to her, she’s not afraid of getting hurt or anything but I feel like it sets her aside from the rest of the exorcists. She takes her job incredibly seriously, she is a lieutenant after all. I added some crosses to her design and made her wing colour match her hair, also added a second hair option to show off her undercut!
It’s a brighter purple and I think she looks neat with it, I’ll probably add some casual clothing for her, I found it weird how she and Adam were actively sporting their exorcist outfits freely in heaven when the rest of heaven isn’t supposed to know about the annual extermination. Lute even had blood all over her outfit.
I hate Adam but him and lute as a duo was my favourite part they were funny and their duets were great, kinda feel like we got a major villain death wayyy too soon tho. I should be taking a crack at the seraphim sisters or Adam next.
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Trans made TTRPGs
Due to… recent events that I would rather not talk about, today's post is a highlight of different tabletop games made by trans peeps! These games are fantastic in their own right, of course, but you can also know that they were made by incredibly cool and attractive people
(Also, these are flyover descs of the game, they'll get more in-depth singular posts later, this is because I am lazy)
Perfect Draw is a phenomenal card game TTRPG that was funded in less than a day on backerkit, it's incredibly fun and has simple to learn hard to master rules for creating custom cards, go check it out!
Songs for the dusk is fucking good, pardon my language, but it's a damn good post apocalyptic game about building community in a post-capitalist-post-apocalypse-post-whatever world. do yourself a favor and if you only check out one game in this list, check this one out, its a beautiful game.
Flying Circus is set in a WW1 inspired fantasy setting full of witches, weird eldritch fish people (who are chill as hell), cults, dead nobility, and other such things. It's inspired by Porco Rosso primarily but it has other touchstones.
Wanderhome is a game about being cute little guys going on a silly adventure and growing as the seasons change, its GMless and very fun
https://weregazelle.itch.io/armour-astir Armour Astir has been featured in here before but its so damn good I had to post it twice. AA demonstrates a fundamental knowledge of the themes of mech shows in a way that very few other games show, its awesome
Kitchen Knightmares is… more of a LARP but its still really dang cool, its about being a knight serving people in a restaurant, its played using discord so its incredibly accessible
https://grimogre.itch.io/michtim Michtim is a game about being small critters protecting their forest from nasty people who wish to harm it, not via brutal violence (sadly) but via friendship and understanding (which is a good substitute to violence)
ok this technically doesn't count but I'm putting it here anyways cuz its like one of my favorite ttrpgs of all time TSL is a game about baring your heart and dueling away with people who you'll probably kiss 10 minutes later, its very very fanfic-ey and inspired by queer narratives. I put it here because its made by a team, and the expansion has a setting specifically meant to be a trans "allegory", so I'll say it counts, honestly just go check it out its good shit
https://willuhl.itch.io/mystic-lilies
Mystic Lillies is a game inspired by ZUN's Touhou Project about witches dueling powerful foes, each other, and themselves. Mystic Lillies features rapid character creation and a unique diceless form of rolling which instead uses a standard playing card deck.
https://preview.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/141424/nobilis-the-game-of-sovereign-powers-2002-edition I… want to do a more general overview on Jenna K as an important figure in indie RPG design, but for now just know that Nobilis is good
https://temporalhiccup.itch.io/apocalypse-keys Apocalypse Keys is a game inspired by Doom Patrol, Hellboy, X-men, and other comics about monstrousness being an allegory for disenfranchisement. Apocalypse Keys is also here because its published by Evilhat so its very cleaned up and fancy but I love how the second you check out the dev's other stuff you can tell they are a lot more experimental with their stuff, this is not a critique, it is in fact a compliment
Fellowship! I've posted about this game before, but it is again here. Fellowship has a fun concept that it uses very well mostly, its a game about defining your character's culture, and I think that's really really cool
Voidheart Symphony is a really cool game about psychic rebellion in a city that really does not like you, the more you discover for yourself the better
Panic at the Dojo is a phenomenal ttrpg based on what the Brazilian would call "Pancadaria", which basically means, fucking other's people shit up. Character Creation is incredibly open and free, meaning that many character concepts are available
Legacy 2e is a game about controlling an entire faction's choices across time, its very fun
remember to be kind to a trans person today! oh also don't even try to be transphobic in the reblogs or replies, you will be blocked so fast your head will spin
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
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I’m not sure if you’ll write for Nikto or maybe even angst? Need to feel something, ignore if you’re not comfortable!
I was thinking neighbor!Nikto x civilian hyper fem!reader she just wants to get close to this masked, mean older man but he doesn’t want to hurt this sweet lil thing that’s always so loving towards him and the thought is scaring them away because of the way he looks TERRIFIES the poor man :(
Always down for when you write König. Love your lil wrinkly brain and all its ideas and words. Mwuah! Smooch!
how have I never written him before omg? I need to write more Nik & König💖 I cannot write angst for shit but pls enjoy n e ways 💕
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You're on his doorstep again. Another plate too. Nikto knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should try and ignore you - maybe pretend that no one's home, not that he'd really be able to get that by you when his car is parked in the driveway and the lights are on. With a sigh, the front door is opened, and you're faced with the unmoving presence of your new neighbour, a balaclava covering most of his face, a black hoodie pulled on over top just for good measure.
"You are here again." He observes flatly, unable to contain the way his eyes widen as you bounce from foot to foot in your frilly little skirt. "I bought sharlotka!" You chirp, having practised the Russian pronunciation as you baked the cake, and on the short walk over to his home. Nikto observes the cake with a scrutinising eye before hesitantly inviting you into his home. Shame burns his features when he can't help but to stare at your ass as you make your way inside. "Yes. I can see that."
You refuse to let his indifferent tone deter you as you place the plate down on his table, before just sort of lingering awkwardly in his kitchen, holding the plate of cake out to him like an offering. "I will bring you back the plate tomorrow." Is his obvious dismissal, which has you scurrying back to his front door, waving a clearly disappointed goodbye.
You're not so easy to get rid of.
The next time you see him is in the grocery store, an ideal location for your flawless plan to unfold. Kind of flawless. Not really very well thought out but you're desperate to win his attention. If that means baking so many Russian desserts that they're up to your ears, or conveniently cornering him in the store, that's what you'll do. "I'm so sorry!" The sound of your squeak rings in Nikto's ears as he turns around with lightning speed to steady your shoulders. You like the way his hands envelop your entire pink-clad biceps as he frowns down at you. "Hello, again." The way your ears perk up at his thickly accented voice doesn't go missed by Nikto, and he allows himself to wish, just for a moment, that he could have you as his. He wonders what it would be like to shop for groceries with you, to go home and stock the fridge. He wonders whether you'd let him bend you over the kitchen countertop or fuck you in nothing but the frilly pink apron he's seen you wear through your kitchen window. You're far too precious for that. Far too pretty for a man like him. So why do you keep coming back, stupid girl.
"I made stroganoff." You chirp, shooting him your best puppy eyes, trying to find a chip in the armour that must be there somewhere. He is, after all, just a man. "That is nice." He grunts, handing you back your basket, taking a step back. Maybe if he stays away from you physically, his mind will follow suit. "I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner. With me."
God, he'd love to come for dinner with you. He'd like to help set the table, and eat a hearty meal prepared by someone who cares for him enough to learn to cook the meals he ate as a child. He'd love to spend the evening with you, bring you a nice bottle of wine and wrap his arms around your waist as you tidy up, press kisses down the back of your neck and smell your sweet perfume up close.
"I am busy tonight."
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604to647 · 4 months
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Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 2
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Welp! It seems there are link and tag limits? Who knew? Not this newb 😂😂 When I said that I've read so many good fanfics, I really meant it. Again, below the cut is a continuation of the list of some of my fave Pedro character fanfics that I've read on this site - ones I think about and revisit often. These are all fics I should have/would have reblogged if only I wasn't so weirdly nervous about it; in 2024 we will muster up some courage and reblog (it will be slow, probably, but I promise I will be trying!). This is a good time for me to also say that one of the reasons I am motivated to step out of my comfort zone on this is because of the genuine joy every comment/reblog/like has brought me this year as a new writer - thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the kind reception on anything I have ever posted. 🥹 ilysm 😘
Anyways, we press forward (Part 1 of Rent Free PPCU fics can be found here):
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Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)
Of Shadows and Roses by @the-scandalorian (Bodyguard!Din x Royalty!Reader)
All Mine by @mellowswriting (Possessive!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)
Narcissus by @bits-and-babs (Armour/mirror sex)
Looking out for you by @beskarandblasters (Jealous!Din after Reader uses herself as bait)
Cherry Liqueur by @decembermidnight (Reader teases Mando in public)
Breaking in the New House by @beskarandblasters (I love Husband!Din and Wife!Reader fics)
Javier Pena (Narcos)
Sweet Dreams by @javiscigarette (Javi can't sleep)
Phone Sex...amiright? by @tightjeansjavi (Reader calls Javi at work)
Sharing is Caring by @ezrasversion (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)
The Saint, the Sinner, and the Devil by @joelsgirl (Corrupt DEA Agent!Javi, DBF Mafia AU!Joel Miller, Reader Threesome)
MIA by @itsharleystuff (Jealous!Javi with Undercover!Reader)
Surprising Javi P with a Lingerie Set by @swiftispunk
Not here...not now by @gracieispunk (Reader visits Javi at work)
Bunny by @whatsnewalycat (Sex Phone Operator!Reader; Part 2 is great too!)
Ease by @javiscigarette (Javi takes care of Reader after a bad day)
Joel Miller (TLOU)
Say It Right, Peeping Neighbour, and Right Place, Right Time by @chaotic-mystery (All the DBF and BFD fics are amazing; these are my fave)
Quickie by @joelscruff (This falls in the middle of the Boyfriend's Dad series, but it's the first one I read and I was hooked!)
That Funny Feeling by @bluebeary-jay (Joel loves pet names 🥹)
I've Got Lust on My Tongue by @itgetsdark-x (Bratty reader a la Maddy Perez)
The Babysitter, Part 1 by @proxima-writes (There's a Part 2 as well!)
Under the Table by @toxicanonymity (A lot of good Joelkemons, but Speakeasy is a classic and maybe my fave?)
Online Friends, Sticking it to the PTA, and Caught Sunbathing by @walkintotheriveranddisappear (All of Emma's Joel fics are really hot [honestly you can't go wrong], but these are my faves)
Late Night Smoke by @bettercallwillow (Dbf smoking. sigh)
Calling Joel Daddy by @inkedells (I honestly love it when authors bold the dirty talk 🤭)
Gimme What I Want and In the Next Room by @atticrissfinch (The masterlist is some of the hottest Joel fic, if I may say so; these are my faves)
An Open Window by @velvetmud (Joel being a peeping tom; I also always hope for a sequel to this one!)
Crave by @toxic-seduction (Part 2; Reader finds Joel in the QZ)
Good Luck Charm by @javiscigarette (Joel watches the football game)
Ravish by @psychedelic-ink (Webcam Model!Reader; Part 2 is also incredible!)
I Know it When I see It by @bageldaddy (Pornstars!Joel and Readers. This series has me and everyone else, I think, in a chokehold. Reading, as well, the writer's thoughts and feelings about the porn industry and the care put into the characters is such a joy and makes the fic that much more rich)
Chaser series by @livingemkayde (Nanny!Reader and a love triangle; not finished but so good I'm happy to wait forever)
Right my Wrongs by @chloeangelic (Father in Law!Joel)
In A Feud with Her Neighbour by @proxima-writes (Read this delicious fic and the bonus scenes will be the icing on top)
Kiss and Tell by @toxic-seduction (Stepdad!Joel and mom goes away for the weekend)
Peaches and Cream by @javiscigarette (Joel buys reader peaches)
Didn't Cha Know by @chloeangelic (The Joel Reader has been pining for is her boyfriend's brother)
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Camgirl by @phuckinphia (Another Camgirl but this time she's Sarah's friend 🫣)
The Right Wrong Number by @proxima-writes (Sarah's soccer coach!Reader)
Nightmares by @fruispunk (QZ!Reader has nightmares that Joel hears and mistakens for something else)
Damage Done by @bluebeary-jay (Joel accidentally triggers Reader; mind the tags. Heavy angst, heavy topic that is beautifully written)
Yes, Mr. Miller by pedropascallme (Babysitter!Reader, Part 2 Thank You, Mr. Miller is also excellent)
How Long series by @gracieheartspedro (Link is to Part 1; series is complete and wonderfully hot and emotional. Reader's boyfriend Tommy is a cheat😢)
Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)
Fictional Death by @psychedelic-ink (Frankie comforts Reader)
Well Fed by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (Frankie is HAPPY 🥹)
Forest Ranger AU by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (I'm not an outdoorsy person but this AU makes me wish I was)
It's Always the Quiet Ones by @thot-of-khonshu (Frankie surprises Reader)
Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)
Kinktober 2022 - Breeding by @moralesispunk (Guard!Pero and Royalty!Reader)
Bodily Exchange by @absurdthirst (Mafia AU!Pero and daughter of mafia boss Reader)
Damnation or Salvation by @absurdthirst (Pero is sent to retrieve Reader)
Dying Wish by @absurdthirst (Pero makes Reader's father a promise; okay at this point, just all of Keri's Pero fics 🤭)
Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)
Beat Poetry on Amphetamines by @psychedelic-ink (Marcus comes home hurt)
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crystalliumdaisy · 11 days
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redesigning star dresses part 2!
part 1
notes and individuals are below!
virgo ~
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- really wanted to step away from that sexy maid aesthetic. my goal was to mix maid with a princess silhouette to reference virgo’s nickname for lucy.
- so i added elements of cinderella’s look like the side fabrics, choker and longer dress.
- using just black is so boring so i brought in some pink and chose to instead use greys
- so many lucy dresses have pigtails so changing the hair also has a more practical element because it’s pulled away.
~ scorpio
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- I actually love the og scorpio dress. It’s so different to all the other looks and so easy to distinguish that it’s scorpio.
- i wanted to play into a trackstar / athlete look just so it has an aesthetic that stands out. i also used shapes found in scorpios tail and neck frill in her armour and top.
- i absolutely love the new hair, i wanted it to resemble a scorpion tails! Also just was bored by the normal head band and u know what why not do a cutest bow.
~ sagittarius
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- my least fav og dress is is sag. the colour, the lack of shade range and the outfit is just…. yer not cute.
- so i was inspired by more fantasy archers and sag’s colours are screaming cool earthy ranger.
- i think the final result much better resembles sag in the colours and aesthetic.
~ capricorn
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- this luxus bad girl moment and i love it. The og one is pretty good but i wanted to fully push it more.
- there’s strands of hair coming out of her bun to resemble horns and belt to resemble a tail.
- the og design is too black so i went with a darker purple to stand out. I didn’t want virgo and capricorns to look like a matching set.
~ aquarius
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- there was a lot of pressure to do aquarius well because it’s significant star dress, a fan favourite and my own star sign!
- i leaned more in the mermaid aesthetic by using more fin silhouettes and pearl detailing
- i wanted to make it more practical so a more supported bikini and mini skirt under the fin like fabric.
~ full set
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i’m so super proud of these designs and i’ve actually seen an improvement in my art. Maybe in the future i’ll do a piece with all of them or do yukinos dresses so lmk if ur into that.
if ur looked this far ty so much for reading all my notes xxx
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Hi, love your works so much! Can't wait for more updates 🥰🥰 I was wondering maybe you'd like the idea where book!Aemond and Velarion!(Strong?)Reader are in an arranged marriage. But Reader just knows what to say and how to act so that Aemond is wrapped around her finger (kinda thought of Margaery and Joffrey situation, she was such a talented schemer, worthy of winning the Throne 😭). I don't really know about the setting, like if it's before, during or after the Dance... just thought it'd be interesting to see this kind of plot with our beloved Prince 🤴🏼🐉
If you don't like it, just ignore me 🙈
Dragon Sickness (18+)
Pairing: bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader
Warnings: No usage of (Y/N), Greens win AU, bookcanon Greens, the obvious Targaryen incest, mentions of major character deaths (we're entering spoiler grounds, but not really), blood, gore etc.
Word Count: 3.5K+
Author's Note: I fell in love with this idea the moment I saw it! I ended up altering the plot line for this one-shot a little bit - the reader will definitely grow into the Margaery architype, but today you shall see her as she was when she just learned how to make ends meet with her newfound life at Court.
I don't know if I should turn this into yet another series, but if you guys enjoyed this, let me know
Also, thank you so, so much for your kind words ♡ i'm hugging you to the moon and back!
PART 2 IS OUT NOW ♡♡♡
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Who could ever blame you for your indiscreet acts? Alliances change when the world you know suddenly turns upside down.
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She remembered how weak she was. How scared she had been.
How her eyes widened into two brown specs of uncertainty, how her mouth fell agape, as she mulled over Alicent’s words.
‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’
The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her. Much less her demanding and scornful father.
Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.
Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.
His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.
With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead. Driftmark wouldn’t matter, her legacy wouldn’t matter. Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.
Never mind that he’d never partaken in a fight; save for the one that killed her stepfather, Daemon, and sent her poor mother in a downward spiral. Aemond had chosen his adversaries wisely, and managed to go through the whole war without as much of a scratch upon his silver armour.
‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out.
‘You will do exactly as demanded.’
‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’
A monstrous beast. That is what Aemond was.
And that is what he shall remain. No matter how many gifts he brought to her. No matter how many hours of their days and days in their weeks and weeks in their months they spent promenading those ghastly gardens.
‘You will if you know your best interests. Your own head may hold no value to you, but a single swing of my son’s sword would be enough to bring forth the ruin of House Blackwood.’
At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.
The slight breeze of the cathedral mended her flesh from the heat of summer. And no one dared to approach or talk to her. The quietness was a welcomed deed.
During the first night of their betrothal, her glossy eyes scanned Aemond’s face. His hands wantonly gripped at his thighs and a slight twitch of his mouth, accompanied by an elongated hum escaped his lips.
There was no other discernable expression. And when he led her to the chambers of her early girlhood, he merely bowed and kissed her hand.
She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.
Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months. Her wedding date was approaching swiftly, and she found herself faced with the abhorrent truth. She had no allies. No more friends at Court. The girl had shut herself in her tiny room, losing her mind with the pain and grief that flooded her at night: the faces of her mother, her brothers, her father. The sound of their screams and their endless pleas for help.
Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.
The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in.
‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’
The echo of his mellow voice deterred her to let out a blood-curdling scream, that would have rivalled even the one of the late Queen Rhaenyra, after Aegon the Usurper ceased her at Dragonstone, and reeled his dragon to eat her whole.
‘Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out of my room!’
Her sobs pierced into the man’s heart, but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn. He clenched his fists ruefully by his side, and spat out an apology in a low and dangerous tone.
‘As you wish.’
And how dearly he loved those words:
‘As you wish.’
'As you desire.’
Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.
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“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.
Her face contorted into the mirror, and a faint sigh beleft her lips. Carefully she turned around, reflecting his stance with a subtle arch to her shapely brow.
“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding ceremony.”
“An old wives' tale. And one that applies only on the day itself.”
“Perhaps we should encourage tradition more. Make it so we don’t cross paths at all til then.”
Just as fast as it came, the feral look dissolved over his tired face. Aemond heaved out a heavy exhale and merely settled to growl at her maids.
“Leave us. Now.”
A discontented look painted over her fair features. His niece opened her mouth in protest, to try and stop the fleeing girls from truly making their escape.
“I must remind my Prince that the engagement assembly will be held in less than an hour. I believe I should like them to stay.”
The gathered women exchanged lost and protruding glances, until the former King Regent spoke again.
“They will leave us at once.”
“They’ll do no such a thing. They must make haste to get me ready. We wouldn’t want to upset your mother.”
“I’m more than capable of lacing up a loose bodice.”
The tight expression on her face deserted her features with the leave of his smug retort. She swallowed thickly in enraged abandon, and silently beseeched her ladies not to leave her all alone.
Still ravishing her with his bold stare, Aemond stepped another foot into the cosy confinements of her tidy prison. “If I’m to turn around now and find any of you standing before me, I’ll arrange that you’re all flogged and defiled beyond the utter of salvation.”
Brisk footsteps swallowed the room, echoing wildly through the narrow dark hallways. The former Velaryon shook her head in disarray, and graced her soon-to-be-husband with a tight smile and a nod.
“Congratulations.” She uttered humorously, “I should enjoy looking like a fool tonight much more than being proper by your side.”
As if drowned below a trace, Aemond took another step in the direction of the frowning Princess. His face remained impenetrable, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice ran meek, unsure and hoarse.
“Turn around.” He commanded her gently, whilst grabbing a deep green garment from the cluttery made on her bed. Despite her lack of desire to abide by his request, the woman turned her back to him and muttered slowly, though much softer than intended.
“I don’t like that one. It’ll make the skirts look out of place.”
“Which one do you want, then?” His whisper had made her draw in a sharp gasp; the warmth of his breath fell soothingly over the nape of her neck, caressing her delicate skin in a way she hadn’t known was possible.
“The red one with black lacings.”
His hand came to spin her back around, and their noses nearly touched together. A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.
“Your petticoat won’t be those colours.”
A conceited scowl graced her face. She reached her hand behind him and skillfully snatched one of a different design. “Fine. I want to wear this one, then.”
The obnoxious blue and silver danced across her paling skin. And if Aemond weren’t so dazed by their proximity and lack of air, he might have laughed at her feeble attempts of vexing him.
“Those are Velaryon hues.”
“Perfect. I shall honour my house well.”
“You are not a Velaryon to grace them with such a feat.”
“No, you are absolutely right. Your brother did name me a Targaryen.”
Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.
“Yet I can’t wear black and red either.” A prompted look disarmed the Prince, “It is all very confusing.”
His lone orb descended to her puffing bosom, but Aemond soon directed himself upon a more elusive image. His fingers twitched with the need to grab a hold of her – to pull away those last pieces of cloth that shielded her away from view.
“You know full well why I can’t allow that.” He hummed in unmoving disapproval, “As much as I enjoy your voice and the raptures of your closeness, I must say this conversation bores me.”
“I should be able to wear what I want.” Came her prompt and swift reply, “But of course, Your Grace, forgive me. ‘Tis not for men to pounder on laces and brims.” Her palms took to rest upon his bulging chest, and the girl nearly removed them at once, as the thrumming of his heart enterlaced with her slim fingers. Still, she furrowed her brows in a most perplexed of mockeries, and insatiably drove on, “Indeed resilient men such as yourself occupy their time much better.”
The callouses of his hands fell heavily upon her cheeks.
“Fucking their ways through brothels, getting their pricks wet, and fantasising about wars.”
The harshness of his next tug nearly broke her brave facade – her eyes widened in mistrust, and a slight recoil braced over her straightened back. Her small fingers clasped over his shaking wrist, which held onto her face with a gentleness untoward; one completely mismatching with the predatory glimmer in his eye.
The man he was, and the man he was trying to be would surely never mend to one.
A Kinslayer. A monster. A divergent freak.
Nothing more, and nothing less.
His thumb played absent-mindedly at her lower lip, and the young Princess tried her damnest not to bite him. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?”
“You are as imprudent as you are beautiful. A family trait, I assume.”
“You have my gratitude for the flattering commentary. I’m very proud of my heritage.”
His lilac orb bore into her, and the man let out a reserved laugh, “Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.” The rough end of his hand gripped her own painfully, before she could make for a swing at his handsome face. “Lost in the seas, rotting at the bottom of an ocean, nestling inside Sunfyre’s belly.”
While her hands were clasped together, her mouth wasn’t sown shut. With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.
Though his nostrils flared up in disdain, the man graced her with a calculated smirk. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?” He mocked her with feigned interest.
“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”
“Oh, but I have every right to talk about your family. Given that I will be all yours shortly.” Once more he forced her to turn around, and kneeled over to her spasming form, to begin dressing her up; in nought else, of course, but the mundane silks of his choosing.
"Doesn't the prospect thrill you? To become my lady-wife, to finally bear a true Targaryen inside your royal womb?"
So hopeless and defeated she felt, that the youth jerked herself relentlessly, while repeating him the same plethora of words. “You cannot force me to be your whore. You cannot force me to wear this. I will not bear your Hightower green.”
Aemond could feel his patience running thin – and when her foot came into contact with his setting knee, the man let out a ferocious growl, and promptly trapped the girl in his arms, with the aid of a nearby wall.
“So you want to be difficult? You don’t want to wear this? Hmm? Well, who am I not to abide my Lady’s burning wishes?”
The sharpness of his dagger came into quick contact with the milky skin of her thighs. And she might have almost screamed, if Aemond didn’t immediately pull himself away. His hard chest grazed hers for but a moment, as the Prince cast his attention to her moving shadow.
“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”
She huffed out a dispensing pant and pursed her lips into a tight line.
She remained rigid and poised, until a spark of amusement swirled into her eyes.
The first crack was that of a lax smile. The next, a tremor to her lips. The calm before the storm approached, until all rattled down with a mirthed laugh cascading from her reddened lips.
“Do you mean to frighten me with this promise?” She asked through the arch of an uncertain brow, “As if every man in this cursed Keep won’t get to watch me whore myself out to you anyway, when our wedding night will come?”
His face suddenly hardened at the notion of their reality – as if he didn’t give much thought to the bedding ceremony. To his Lady being watched by a thousand other eyes but his.
Aemond suddenly darkened, and his fist came into contact with a near spot on the wall, so awfully close to her frightened, paling face.
She watched with wide eyes how his stare contorted from one of realisation to one of fury. He stiffly peeled his body away from hers, and strained himself to leave her be. The jealous and possessive knots that churned painfully inside his stomach burned his skin upon the surface, and constricted the air he brashly took in.
He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him. Behind his eye danced a look of seldom shame – he gnawed harshly at his bottom lip, and pondered, for a while, on apologising to his niece; for his lack of princely conduct, for his show of impropriety – for his inability to keep himself at bay.
Still his thoughts failed to merge to words, and so the man ran his eye one final time over her defensive pose, and merely left her standing there.
As if turned into a statue, the girl barely registered the lethargic closing of the door, the hurried and heavy footsteps that travelled further and further away from her quaint and cluttered space, and the animated curse that slipped past her uncle's throat.
Did he just dare to leave her there, with her petticoat half up her legs, in nought else but a flimsy nightdress?
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At first she thought that his avoidance was a blessing in disguise.
For after clashing wits with Aemond, and after his swift hurried departure, the man had barely graced her with another word.
His hand held onto hers for the whole duration of the procession. He wordlessly forced her to dance two dances, and led her to her Quarters as soon as she mentioned that she was tired.
But his palms didn’t linger on the shape of her narrow waist – his lips barely grazed her knuckles, and Aemond turned with lest a word to add after their fake sympathies were exchanged.
Had he gotten bored of her? Realised what a terrible match they made, and begged his mother on his hands and knees to break off their ill engagement?
For the first time in a while, a new notion of fear engulfed her.
The Greens couldn’t kill her. Of that, she was almost certain. It wouldn't be a wise move, and it would anger the North beyond the power of salvation. The war had had its say on every army that fought into it, yet the Crownlands were especially weak.
But if Aemond were to sever their solidary alliance, then her future would be most uncertain.
Otto Hightower would make her join with an old and withered Lord, no doubt – one with more than enough sons to further on his pesky line. One who couldn’t even get it up to her, who’d never procreate and mend their blood, who’d make sure Rhaenyra’s line would end with her.
Or perhaps she’d be sent to join the Faith – become a Septa or a Silent Sister, among the infamous Maris Baratheons of the Realm. Yet another girl who wouldn’t keep her tongue when asked.
And history might remember them as ‘the women who couldn’t be tamed’, but their lives would be thrown to ruin. Their existence would remain a sham.
No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.
… And if she had to whore herself to him to do it, she would obediently assume her role.
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“I beg your pardon?” Aegon asked through another gulp of bitter wine, “Gods be good – I believe that now I’ve heard it all.”
Aemond paced about his brother’s room, with his hands clasped behind his back, and his face set into a deep grimace. He hummed in admission to his brother’s words, and glanced his way with the instance of a hooded eye.
“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”
His brother smiled and raised his brows in nothing else but blinding wonder. A small shake of his head indicated his perplexion, and a sharp inhale his drawn decision.
“Mother insisted upon it. You know that well.” The man steadied himself in his chair as he spoke, whilst letting out a small grunt at the contact that the wood made upon his burnt remnants of skin. “I don’t see any reason to annul it. Especially now, an eve before.”
Another sip of the stinging liquor interrupted his smooth and ready trail of thought. The Targaryen brushed off Aemond’s concerns, and gleefully bided his teasing.
“It’ll do the two of you good – you’ll get to see she’s as pure as a bastard girl can be; and she’ll have no deniability that any of her future heirs are yours.” He pointed his weary digit in the direction of his stiffened form and swallowed down a hefty laugh. “Not to mention that Lord Redwyne and Tarly already placed bets on the state of her maidenhead. Would be a shame to disappoint them both, don't you think?"
“What mother thinks is of no consequence. And the amusement of the Realm matters not to me. There will be no bedding ceremony.”
“Nonsense, Aemond. It is our duty to upkeep the Realm – and to entertain its inhabitants if need be.”
When his reckless teasing was met with glacial silence, Aegon sighed as he briskly leaned forward. He watched his sibling with an indiscernible expression across his scorched veneer, and yawned greatly at his indisposed behaviour.
“Of course, we’re here to talk it out. But after so much time spent in your company, I fail to see the necessity for such a thing.” A sly smirk danced across his puffy lips, “Are you concerned that she won’t bleed? Or that you’ll be too cunt-struck by her to last enough to make a statement?”
Aemond’s fists descended upon the polished wood of Aegon’d desk. He thrashed his brother with a defiant glare, and hissed through his gritted teeth, and tight-set jaw.
“There will be no bedding ceremony for my niece and I. Tell that to every Lord that wishes to glance upon my wife – if they do so much as to cast their hands on her, they’ll be fucking their own wives with a wooden cock.”
Amusement laced with grave concern – the finality of Aemond's words ought to have vexed him, irk the King in his sibling's weighty insolence. Instead Aegon nodded, pushing back the feeling of dread that settled deep within his bones. His head jerked towards his closed oak door, signalling to his brother that his visit had been overstated. “What sort of brother would I be, to not grant you with this simple whim?”
The younger Targaryen mirrored his stance, and turned abruptly on his heel after a low grunt of gratitude.
His hand reached for the golden handle, but Aegon's words deterred him to a halt.
“But be careful with that one, Aemond. She’s brash and wholly unpredictable. Make sure the blood that stains your sheets come morning isn’t somehow your very own.”
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stave-writes · 4 days
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Scruffy! (Various Dungeon Meshi Men x GN!Reader)
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Summary: Your boyfriend really needs a trim of his stubble, and he's asked for your help :)
Word Count: 1711
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Laios Touden
We all know Laios does NOT like being scruffy, especially when Falin tells him he looks like their father. So, it's a lovely thing when he asks you to look after him and help him shave.
Laios had been a little finicky lately, ever since leaving the dungeon he was a lot more conscious about himself. Mainly, his appearance. Rubbing at his new stubble and brushing his blonde hair that had grown out in places. Irritation was plainly visible each time he felt the slight scratch of stubble against his fingers, even a slight huff to his tone afterwards. "Hey, could I ask a favour?" was his innocuous question, head tilting back over the edge of your sofa. After an inquisitive sound of acknowledgement from you, a slight smile rose on Laios's face. "Mind helping me shave? I also want to cut my hair but can't see the back."
This is how you ended up sitting on the edge of your tub, scissors working away at the tufts of hair against the nape of his neck. Each little brush of your fingers against his skin caused a small giggle or shuffle from Laios, if he were a dog, his tail would be smacking against your leg so hard it'd hurt a little. A smile was visible on his lips every time you'd lean over to peek at him, and he'd look up at you eyes full of love.
"Did you know that tons of monster species use grooming as a form of intimacy?" Of course, you did, you're dating Laios Touden, if you didn't you'd have amnesia. Instead of an eye roll, you gave a little smile and nod.
Reaching his hand up, a pat against your leg was a signal he hadn't just passed out between your knees while you worked at giving him the cut he liked. A quick kiss pressed to your lips was a thankful gesture, nuzzling into your face before moving to work on shaving his stubble to save you from the beard scratches.
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Chilchuck Tims
I see Chilchuck as the type of guy to have some time dedicated to a little self-care, although shaving isn't a big problem considering the half-footer's ageing span. But! His hair does still grow, so some help may be needed there.
It'd been a week since Chilchuck asked you to remind him to go get a haircut, and he still hadn't gone despite your near-constant reminders. Post-its on the counter, on his lockpicking tools, hell you once stuck one on his face for him to see in the mirror. At this point, it was getting ridiculous that he hadn't even gone to try and get it done.
"You're going to cut my hair...? I can just go get it done in town-" He huffed a little at you, rubbing at the back of his neck with a small frown. Your adamance had his stubbornness outweighed almost tenfold, so you rolled up a stool behind his chair and began to figure out how to trim his hair.
Hair was scattered everywhere by the time you were done, and Chilchuck's ego was only a little bruised by the number of grey hairs you saw while trimming it. He didn't seem to mind it too much though, the presence of a wagging tail that was usually hidden away under his clothing batting at your leg. At least his hair was finally trimmed, and a thankful kiss was pressed to your knuckles as you got up to sweep away the leftover hair.
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Senshi of Izganda
Senshi doesn't particularly care for shaving or even washing his beard but knowing the kind of bacteria facial hair can carry (and after a lecture from Marcille) he's willing to have you help him with that beard the size of Cousin It from the Addams Family.
"Ah, I suppose Marcille's nagging finally got to me, that's all. I hope you don't mind helping me wash my beard, it'll take a while." Senshi muttered slightly, looking aside as he asked you for just a little favour. It was hard to ask such a thing from you, especially with how much you'd done already for him by just being with him. He felt absurdly lucky when you agreed, setting his helmet and upper armour aside to clean off his beard and hair.
It was a nicer experience than usual having a loving touch working at his hair first to wet it, then lather it and working slowly to get all the dirt out. It took a long long time to finish the first round of washing the hair and beard, alongside the several other scrubbing and washing rounds. It was an intensive process, but being able to smell clearly the soap in his hair was a good bonus, alongside the lack of a helmet.
Letting him dry for a few hours was the best idea you'd had this entire time, able to bury your face against the wall of fluff you called Senshi for a long while. The smell was great and the warmth was greater, you could've honestly slept there if you wanted. But, you had a plan! Readying a comb, boar bristle brush and your sanity, you began braiding Senshi's hair into long thick plaits and tying them off once you were done. It was tenuous but an enjoyable closeness, as you pressed your face into his back slightly. You couldn't help but marvel at your work when you were all done. The happy expression on your face made it hard for Senshi to resist placing a kiss on the crown of your head, a soft look in his eyes.
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Toshiro Nakamoto
A large part of the teachings Toshiro lives by is to exist as a convenience to others, not asking much and not putting his needs in the forefront. So, when Toshiro comes to you asking for help looking after himself? It's a sign of trust. He knows you.
"You...would you help me?" Toshiro's voice is quiet and soft as he addresses you, a slight crease in his brow as he looks towards you. It's hard to be vulnerable around you even if you're adamant in your love for him. Even as you assure him it's not a bother to help him and that you're here for him, it's still... nerve-wracking. It's hard for him to settle himself as he eventually moves first to sit down on your bed, having you brush out his hair and praise the length and colour of his locks, he's still worried.
He's guided towards your bath and urged to get into the warm water, leaning his head back so you can scrub away any remaining dirt and eventually, he peeks an eye open to see your face as you work at making sure he's sparkling clean. The slight furrow in your brow, your intense posture and a huff finally as you finish cleaning his hair. He can't help but smile at your effort to look after him especially as Toshiro can feel the exhaustion melt away at your careful consideration of him.
Before he knew it, he was basically asleep in your tub, head leant back with your fingers working at his hair and scalp. The feeling of safety was all he needed from you. When it was done, he dried off and changed into some comfortable clothes he'd left with you before curling up beneath your duvet, head resting into the crook of your neck.
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Mithrun of the House of Kerensil
Mithrun struggles with self-care due to his lack of desires and is used to being looked after by others. With you, though, it was different. Your touch was imbued with love, and you didn't choose to look after him because someone ordered you to, just...because you wanted to see him cared for.
Looking after Mithrun sometimes could be a lot, making sure he ate and bathed and slept all while making sure he kept his mana up enough for his work with the canaries. So, it'd been easier to devise a schedule for all the things that would need to be done by day and then by week. Three baths a week, each one day apart. Three meals a day, four hours apart except for dinner which was at 6pm on the dot. A good schedule helped you and Mithrun look after yourselves, but you hadn't quite yet accounted for trimming his hair.
It had gotten longer than you had thought before you remembered to check the length of his hair, playing with the silver locks that framed his face and moved to cover his false eye a little. With a slight curl at the ends and parted just along the side, it was an easy style to maintain, especially for someone so consistently fatigued. So, when it came time to trim it down, an afternoon was allocated and Mithrun was given a book to entertain him while you worked.
On the floor, resting on a pillow was the middle-aged elf who you were looking after. Tilting his head forward a little, you brushed through those light-coloured locks and parted them into smaller sections before taking them between your middle and pointer finger, working to even it out and take a little length off. This process was repeated for each section of hair, fingers lightly brushing his face at one point which caused a little startled jump to come from Mithrun, looking at you with his good eye almost inquisitively. In the end, though, you finished off trimming it all quite quickly, evening it all out and even taking some longer strands from the front and braiding them like he'd done when he was much younger...before the dungeon.
Even if it was hard to see, a little smile played on his lips as he embraced your touches, leaning back after you proudly announced you were done. His face squished into your thigh, a little bump of his against you like a cat trying to get their owner's attention. Taking advantage of your curiosity at this action, your hand was brought to his face and he snuggled into it slightly, enjoying the reaction it spurred from you. He may not desire much, but he knows how to love you.
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crossdressingdeath · 9 months
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A 3 AM thought: Wynne's dynamic with Alistair vs the Warden really is so much crunchier if you're playing Surana/Amell. With the former Templar Wynne is every inch the doting grandmother: she nags him lovingly, she mends his clothes, she fusses over him, he can get basically anything out of her just by acting pathetic until she gives in. She comes across as... for lack of a better word, harmless in a way that's a little uncomfortable when you remember where she grew up. There's an element where I get the sense she's trying to manage Alistair and keep him on her side the way a Circle mage might try to manage a Circle Templar to keep themself safe.
But with the Warden she's very different in a way that doesn't make sense with most Wardens, given that at least on paper they and Alistair hold basically the same position? With the Warden Wynne is harsh, demanding. They have to get everything right, no distractions, no missteps, no fumbles. They can't fall in love, they can't hesitate, they must in short be the fairytale, knight in shining armour image of a "perfect" Grey Warden. Which... y'know, isn't how the Wardens work? But if you're playing Surana/Amell and looking at their conversations with Wynne through the lens of a senior Circle mage speaking to a much younger and less experienced Circle mage... that's basically the advice that that senior mage would give in the Circle. If you want to live, be perfect. You can't slip, you can't fall in love, you must be the very best you can be to the point of inhumanity (for lack of a better term in a setting where not everyone's human) because anything less is unforgivable. No one wants you to be a person, just a tool; that's a feeling that I think both mages and Wardens would understand. The way Wynne treats the Warden makes the most sense with Surana/Amell by a mile, because she is in a way treating the whole situation like being in the Circle!
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angelaestheticbaby · 7 months
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The bunny and the wolf
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Summary: Aleksander hates everyone except you. You could stay forever.
Warnings: I guess none, just fluff
A/N: it was inspired by this pic
Aleksander was always like a big, bad wolf. Snurling and growling at people who wanted to get close. He pushed everyone away and never let anyone near.
But when he attemped to scare away you, you just beamed at him like a literal sunshine and he immediatly fell in love.
You were like the innocent little Bunny and he was the big, bad wolf. You softened his heart and since then he was soft and gentle with you, hars and cold with everyone else. You were his Bunny and the sight of you made him melt.
Aleksander had been quite cold and stoic when you first met him. He always kept everyone at an arm's length distance, never really letting anyone close.
But it was you who finally broke that cold armour he had around himself. He soon became like a big, protective bear towards you. You were the light that brought out his softer side and made him melt.
No one else had ever seen him that way, they all feared him and his stern demeanour. But to you, he was like a gentle lamb, willing to do anything for you.
"Hi baby" you stepped into his office and hugged him from behind. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. He set his pen down on the desk and put his glass aside. He turned in your hold and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer.
"Hello, my Bunny" Aleks whispered.
"How's it going? You seemed stressed this moring when you left our bed" you nuzzled closer and he literally saw you as a little Bunny feeling comfortable.
"I'm better now" he said with a smile as he leanes down and whispers into your ear, "My Bunny is here with me."
He nuzzled your ear with his lips and ran his hands through your hair. "You have no idea how much I missed you today."
"I missed you too lovely"
Lovely. You called him lovely, when he was anything but lovely. His heart skipped a beat. He was so used to being feared and respected, he had never been called something so sweet yet intimate before, but it just felt right.
"I have some good news for you, Bunny" he whispers softly.
"Yeaahh? Tell me" you whispered sweetly. He didn't understand how someone so precious like you could be with someone cursed and bad like him. But you were there and he didn't plan on letting you go.
"I want to hold you in my arms forever" he says softly as he ran his fingers through your hair. He pulled you close, bringing his lips to your ear. "I want to spend my life with you, my Bunny. I will be yours, my love" he said in a passionate whisper.
He stared deeply into your eyes as he held your face in his hands, "I would die for you."
"I love you Aleks" you beamed at him. Your softness made an effect on him like nothing else. You didn't guite catch on that he was proposing to you, but he was willing to try again.
He smiled warmly as he held you close. "I love you too, my Bunny."
He looked you deeply in the eyes as he cupped your face in his hands. He stared at you for a long moment before he whispered softly, "I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?"
Aleks was the type of person everyone feared, but with you he was soft and gentle. You have tamed the big, bad wolf.
You froze a bit then your knees buckled a little and started crying in joy.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes" you hugged him closer and started kissing his face everywhere you could reach.
He kissed you passionately as he held you tightly in his arms. He was never the type of person to show much emotion, but with you, he was like a completely different person.
"I love you so much. You're the person I want to spend my life with. I knew you were the one right from the first moment we met"
He nuzzles at your neck with his lips again, "I can't wait to be with you forever"
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katelynnwrites · 8 days
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Honigbiene's Tiny Footprints | Laura Freigang x Baby!Reader
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warnings: ~
word count: 666
summary: your mama wants to bring a part of you onto the pitch with her when she plays
a/n: part of Laura's Honigbiene, prompt from this tiktok cause it was just so cute
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Laura loves many things, her family, her friends, football and her photography to name a few.
But things she’s obsessed about? There is only you.
From your tiny toes to the tips of your tiny fingers, she adores everything about you.
It’s why she wants part of you on the pitch with her.
You’re still too little to do much other than make the cutest baby noises and wiggle around but your Mama feels like you’re old enough for her to return to playing.
There is no lack of people who are willing to look after you on the bench and for the most part, you are content to remain in your baby car seat.
Laura has found that your separation anxiety has lessened and that you can be appeased by the smell of her.
All it takes to keep you calm is a piece of her clothing which is why she keeps a spare hoodie or shirt around, so that she can tuck you in it when necessary.
She had thought long and hard for a while, on how to have a part of you with her when she plays and eventually, she remembers her half used paints.
Your Mama likes painting, it helps her relax but she hasn’t done so since you were born.
What she has in mind feels like the perfect way to start again.
She does have to wait for you to wake up first though and it looks like you’re unlikely to do that anytime soon.
As usual, you’re napping in your Mama’s arms.
With how safe you feel, it’s no surprise that you are completely passed out. Your chest is rising and falling with even breaths and you have your fist in your mouth.
Laura thinks you look adorable sucking on it and she does not have the heart to stop you. Especially with how content you seem.
You’re beginning to grow more hair now. Fine little strands that she loves brushing her fingers over.
Mama watches a replay of a Champion’s League game while she waits for you to finish your nap.
The game is nearly over when you finally blink awake sleepily.
‘Hey Honigbiene.’ Your Mama murmurs.
You squirm in her hold and she places her hand more firmly on your back.
She keeps you against her chest until you look more awake, babbling in increasing volume.
‘Okay okay.’ Laura giggles.
Shutting the television off, she gets up and changes you with practiced ease before taking you over to where she has her paints.
‘What colour should we choose?’
You squeal into Mama’s ear and she grins, ‘You’re right. We should do more than one.’
She picks up a few tubes and then goes to get the pair of new shin guards Under Armour had just sent her.
Then she sets you down on your Silly Mat, thankfully on your back and not your tummy.
For once, she’s not making you lie funny and whine until she picks you back up.
‘Can I get your cute little footprints on my shin guards? So that you can score goals with me?’
You grunt happily and Mama takes that as a yes.
Carefully, she unscrews the top of her paint tube and squeezes out a small drop of paint onto her finger.
Then she rubs it onto one of your feet.
You make another small grunt, kicking your legs a little.
The paint is cold but you’re not really bothered by it.
Nevertheless, Laura quickly repeats the action with all of her chosen colours.
Then she presses your paint covered foot against both her shin guards, leaving behind your tiny footprint in pretty colours.
Your Mama takes a photo before she sets them aside to dry, taking you to wash your feet right after.
When they’ve dried she will pack the painted shin guards into her bag, her excitement beginning to grow at the thought of being able to keep a part of you with her as she plays.
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German Translation:
Honigbiene - Honeybee
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