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knockknockchicagopd · 3 years

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❛ BLACK JACKET WITH WHITE LETTERS ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: Would I be able to request prompt 16 “You're mine. I don't share”. With Hank voight where they go to one of those police events and she works in his unit and they are a couple with her being younger and they dont have to be in police uniform so she wears a really nice dress and as he introduces her and talks to other people he knows, some of the men check her out and try flirt with her and he notices. Could there be a bit of smut if not that's cool to ❤❤

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 3k.

❚❙ Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ General tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @miahelen @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @teller258316 @i-love-scott-mccall @tclaerh. Hank Voight tag list: @sophie-writes. If you wanna be added to my tag list, send my a message! ⚡

Fortunately, it's been a quiet day, otherwise, you couldn't deal with a Districts event like the Commanders call them. A meeting that reunites every officer, inspector, detective, and whoever who wears ‘the blue uniform’; including special agents from the FBI. These last ones are the kind of man who pushes you out of your good mood with all that quackery about serving the whole country, the unlimited resources, the missions. Every time you hear a fed talking about how passionate and exciting their jobs are, you just want to punch their faces. Mostly, they're behind a desk while cops like you are protecting the streets of Chicago in the firing line. But, as Burgess and Upton said, it's time to have some fun. And anything else.

Since you don't have to wear that horrible uniform you use at official events, you have chosen a breathtaking black silk dress that fits your anatomy to perfection, falling from your chest, with a spaghetti strap neckline, to your ankles. And a pair of skyscraper highlights on the same color, with the small difference that the heels are tremendously golden. Your back is almost bare, being crossed by four fine strips, knowing it's going to give Hank some trouble. Oh, you're going to have so much fun tonight. You are very sure.

The soft make-up delights your cute, but lethal, outfit on point ready to leave Kim's house accompanied by your friends. You've arranged to meet at the party with the rest of the Unit since your future husband and Antonio needed to be from the start of the event, which means the three of you are going to earn more than some gazes by assisting alone, with no male figures by your sides. As if you need some kind of protection. Men (...).

Stepping out from your car and giving the keys to the parking attendant, who seems he's having a heart attack after watching you walk with so much cockiness and sensuality, you come into the party. The look you exchange with Kim and Hailey as soon as you check the reaction of the assistants, makes you draw a triumphant smile while raising your chin in some kind of greeting. You aren't going to stop now, leading your steps straight to your partners. Ruzek chokes on champagne with his eyes over Burgess, while Hank looks at you over the edge of his glass of bourbon taking a sip.

“You should work like that every day”. Antonio opines welcoming the three of you in his arms.

“I second that, brother”. Jay quickly adds making a toast with his cup of red wine.

“Bet you'd be the one who wouldn't work”. Hailey replies palming his chest, making you giggle.

In the meantime they continue arguing about the dress code, a strong arm gets placed around your lower back to push you somewhat closer, letting his hand fall over your hipbone. You know exactly what it means. Hank isn't the kind of jealous man, who needs to mark his territory like a dog. But you know that sometimes he feels insecure because of the age gap. He trusts you blindly, that's a fact, but he's human; he has fears and you understand it. Putting your left hand on the back of his neck, you caress his scalp almost unnoticeably, tilting your head to leave a gentle kiss on his cheek earning a satisfied grin from him.

“You look really beautiful tonight”. He whispers, watching you sideways as if it's a secret between you two.

“Thank you, Sergeant. I always try to do my best”.

Hank chuckles against his glass about to have a last sip till emptying it. Taking it from his hand, you pull yourself away to go to the bar and ask for two more drinks. You're thirsty and too sober to be a Friday night. Checking some emails on your phone while the bartender serves your order, you can't help but listen to some backtalk about your career. A couple of suited men combed as politicians and wrapped on a strong scent that throws your stomach. You try to ignore them until they're close enough from your position to offer you a hand in a formal greeting.

“Johnson and Derrick. FBI”.

The blonde one looks like a senior official, while the other looks like a newbie. Turning towards both, you come into the forced polite mood to stretch his hand firmly.

“(Y/L/N), Intelligence Unit, gentlemen. A pleasure”.

“The pleasure is ours, detective”.

“Special agent”. You correct him inevitably, even if it sounds arrogant.

“Special agent, of course”. Johnson replies with a nod of his chin. “I've read your file lately. I have no words to describe it. Graduated with excellent grades in Yale, two years in the Army, another undercover in a Cartel… And you also know how to fly a helicopter”.

“If you weren't from the FBI, I could think you've been stalking me like one of your serial killers, sir”. The sarcasm in your tone of voice earns your Unit's attention, very focused on the conversation between the feds and you.

“Who catches a monster without becoming one, right?”

The man introduces a hand under his jacket to offer you his business card. But you don't take it, just looking at it for a second before raising your eyes towards his.

“In your academy shows you to have the big balls to disrespect a Sergeant or a Chief, by trying to steal their officers in front of their faces? Because mine shows us to serve and protect the citizens”.

His gesture changes suddenly in a sight, hearing some chuckles behind you coming from Hailey and Kim. Raising both eyebrows as you don't get any reply back, you just nod before grabbing the two drinks you have asked for when they interrupted you. Coming back to your friends, you can't help but wrinkle your nose in a gesture of disgust earning more giggles from your partners. But it doesn't seem funny for Hank, who you know he's killing them in thousands of ways inside his head.

As the night passes, you notice Agent Johnson's eyes on you with no shame, starting to make you feel uncomfortable. Although you would be delighted to embarrass him in front of everyone, he has had enough from you. But this doesn't end there. Excusing yourself, you step to the terrace almost emptied to have some fresh air, knowing he's going to follow you. Maybe, to insist a little more. He was so interested in recruiting you to miss the chance.

And as you thought, he's that predictable. You don't turn because of his steps coming closer, but because he pretends to clear his throat to claim your attention. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to a side feigning curiosity with a forced smile showing up on your lips.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior. In my profession isn't habitual to find agents of your characteristics”.

“For sure, sir. It doesn't matter”.

“You could have an extraordinary career in the FBI”.

“I already have it where I am. I don't need schedules, cheap suits, and an earpiece to succeed”.

“I understand your relationship interferes in your decision, but you do—”.

“I'm sorry, you said what? Did you…? Oh, god, I can't fucking believe it”. You can't help but laugh shaking your head. “I don't have any relationship as soon as I wear my badge, sir. And you are starting to cross a line you don't want to cross. Believe me”.

“Ma'am, don't misunderstand my words, nor my intentions. I just think ma—”.

“Nobody asked you to think, Johnson”.

Raising your eyes over his shoulders, you can see your boyfriend sipping his glass of whisky, joining the talk as he tries to keep calm. You know Hank to perfection. If he wasn't your boss, he would have punched him already.

“If you continue pissing off my agent, we're gonna have a problem”.

The man just nods, alternating his gaze between the two of you. Seems that he has admitted his defeat.

“Beautiful and lethal. You're a son of a bitch with so much luck, Voight. Take care of this diamond. Or she will end up wearing a blue jacket with yellow letters”.

“Uh-huh”. He replies as you continue remaining silent.

Passing your boss away back to the party, leaving you alone, you can't hide the proud smile that turns your gesture into a funnier one. Taking short steps towards him, you steal the glass from his hand to drink from it under his attentive brown eyes.

“Blue isn't my color. Not at all. I'm more into black”. You whisper referring to the jackets you are used to wearing in the Chicago department.

“Hm…”

“Imagine having your badge hanging from your neck all day like a collar. Do I look like a dog? I prefer to have it on my belt. And I'm already used to the disgusting watered coffee we make in the twenty-one”. As you continue giving him more reasons, your forefinger traces a path up from his chest to his nape. “And I have so much fun driving my Dodge all around Chicago”.

“Anything else you wanna add?”

“Hm… no. Actually, not. That's all, sir”. You reply puckering your lips, pulling yourself away some inches with a playful aura wrapping you both.

“Now lemme tell you something here”. Hank says then, leaning over your ear. “You're mine, I don't share”.

His voice and his characteristic raspy voice gives you some chills down your spine bone. Biting your bottom lip unconsciously while he stands up, you know the party is over for you and it's time to go home. Holding your hand and taking back his glass of whisky, you walk inside to say your goodbyes before leaving the fancy place straight to the underground parking. You are not going to lie saying you don't love his dominant mood when the occasion demands it.

As soon as you reach your car, you can notice sideways Hank making sure you're totally alone. He doesn't usually take risks of being seen in public too lovey-dovey, but it's not about it this time and you can't wait for him to go ahead with his intentions. Of course, he doesn't make you wait for too long to push your back to the copilot door, attacking your neck in the meantime his hands grab your hips stealing you a low gasp. Hank makes himself between your legs, urging you to surround his waist with one of them to close the distance that separates you, feeling the need he has to mark his territory, as rarely he shows.

“Take me home”. You almost beg closing your eyes as his teeth are nailed on your most sensitive spot, earning a soft grunt that vibrates your body.

“I'm gonna take you here, sweetheart. Any problem?”

“Hell, no, sergeant”.

“Get in the car. Now”.

You don't complain, taking it as an order when he takes two steps back releasing your body and opening the back door for you. And the next minute passes too fast, rolling up your dress as Hank undoes his belt and unzips his pants. In just a sigh he's deep-buried between your legs. It's the first time you take this kind of risk, almost in public, and the horniness it produces is driving you crazy. With your lips almost touching the others, you moan uninhibited every time his hands on your lower back urge you to keep swinging your hips, sitting on his lap.

The way his eyes memorize every gesture drawn on your face has you breathless. It's a sensation you can't describe. Hank has some kind of power over you that you haven't experienced before, even if you think you're indomitable he always manages to make whatever he wants with you. And you know it. You let him do it. Just like right now, marking his territory with desirous bites and wet kisses all around your exposed throat. The most visible part of your body. He doesn't need to prove anything. He isn't the kind of man who needs to call out any other man who dares to lay his eyes on you. Everybody in this damn city knows you're more than his pupil and they're too scared to say hi, although there's always an exception to the rule. In this case, the FBI agents acting like carrion birds.

The mist clouds the windows, as the heat concentrated on your bodies makes you sweat slightly. Hank takes the control turning you under his body against the seat in a position that puts you to see the stars. Every move of his pelvis is accurate, hitting your g-spot, satisfied with how good his name sounds getting drowned between pleased moans once and again. With every push to your body, his dick is dug deeper through your tight wetness making him grunt into your ear, feeling more delighted than never before. And everything is because of the way you had to reply to that FBI agent in front of everyone, showing him how clear you have your preferences; not only because of your relationship, as Johnson pointed out. But because everybody in Chicago is aware that there's no better boss in law enforcement. There's no better Unit than the Intelligence one from the police department of your hometown.

As your legs get wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, one of his arms surrounds your middle back while his free hand flies straight to your throat. Keeping your eyes closed, the suffocating sensation within your lower belly continues growing with every thrust that steals the air from your lungs and races your heart over its possibilities. You're close. So close that your mind is a total blank, just focused on the way only he can make you feel. So good, so desired, so full of life. He knows it, he takes it in advantage. And he enjoys it more than anything.

“Oh, fuck…” Hank got you almost in tears because of the pleasure, traveling your hands to the back of his neck, nailing your nails there. “God… I'm gonna… Fuck, Hank, don't stop, please… Don't stop”.

“I won't, my love… Not till you give me what I want”.

His voice always plays dirty with your mind. The way he has to drag every syllable on his tongue with that husky voice that puts you to tremble, as he continues burying his hard dick inside you with no mercy, speeding up as soon as he feels your legs clung to his body slightly shaking. Because of the fewer insecurities he has about your relationship, he feels proud whenever he makes you reach that sweet sensation of the orgasm taking control of your anatomy. He doesn't care if he has to use his hands, his tongue… whatever. It's not only about sex between the two of you, of course not. But making you cum screaming out his name is an every-day-goal.

And you don't make him wait for too long, arching your back when a lash of heat hits your spine and the grenade inside your lower belly explodes. Your gasps fill up your car, while he continues fucking you harder than seconds before not showing any compassion to your exhausted body, looking for your lips to devours them desperately. His tongue starts a fight for dominance, winning over yours like every single time, in the meantime his fingers grips tightly your throat. Instinctively, you swing your hips in sync, provoking every move to go deeper among your shaky legs.

Hank can't hold it anymore, digging his cock to the limits of your guts, almost hitting your soul with a last strong lung. His warm seed fills you up completely, keeping pushing his body against yours, pressing both to the seat with his hands now placed on the headrest. It feels like a whole set of fireworks. Your moans complement his delighted growls to perfection.

“Don't move, please”. You beg with a thin voice thread, at the same time he rests his forehead on yours.

The two of you can barely breathe, trying to recover after an intense session of your favorite cardio workout. From nowhere, you can't help but giggle in unison. You can't believe you just fucked inside your car and with the risk of being caught in the act. A sergeant and one of his special agents. Even if it's your free night and you're in an established relationship, he's still your boss.

“I would miss working with you”.

“Huh?”

“If I get the FBI's offer”. You mumble, leaving clumsy kisses all around his face. “You're the best cop Chicago has”.

“You don't have to butter me up for a second round”.

Shaking your head briefly and laughing, you caress his scalp so gently as he sinks his face into your sweaty neck.

“Now you said so… maybe I have the fantasy of being bent over your desk”.

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, just… maybe”.

“Then maybe I could bring you to my office, before going home. There's some paperwork to attend to”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #hank voight imagine #hank voight x reader #hank voight

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kikis-writing-world · 3 years

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Flags and Labels

Part of Writer Wednesday by @flightlessangelwings & @autumnleaves1991-blog

Pairing: Modern AU, pan!Din Djarin x Bi!Reader (GN, no pronouns, no Y/N)

Word Count: >2k

Rating/Warnings: Mentions of a religious upbringing and trauma from that past. Essentially Din grew up in “The Children of the Watch” and was very sheltered, but is now exploring the real world. If I’m missing anything else I should tag in this vein, please let me know.

pride / “Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

You smiled brightly at Din as he gazed around, a look of wonder on his face. The street was alive with colour. Walls, windows, fences, parking meters: Everywhere you looked were multicoloured flags of every kind, representing the various people taking to the streets to celebrate their freedom to be who they are. The people themselves in the streets were just as colourful. They sported flags and bright colours and all kinds of eccentric accessories, showcasing who they’re proud to be. The joy in the air was palpable, contagious even.

You had been friends with Din for nearly two years now, the two of you having met at the local library. He always took out such interesting books on a variety of subjects, both fiction and non-fiction, and shortly after becoming acquainted with him you found out why. He had grown up in a very strict religious sect - some would go so far to describe them as a cult - and had been sheltered from many things until his early adulthood. When he became comfortable with you, he had just as many questions for you about the “real world” as you had about his past.

One topic that had come up as you two talked about Din’s past was his sexuality. He had known from a young age that something was different. His religion had been strict about heterosexual couples being the only way, shunning all other types of love. You happily helped him find books and resources he could look into, to further explore his feelings. You also opened up, sharing your own personal journey and experiences as you came to terms with your bisexuality.

When you suggested taking Din to this year’s pride, he was both nervous and excited. He still wasn’t a fan of large crowds, a side effect of his upbringing. He also didn’t know what to expect when he got there. With some research and reassurance from you that you wouldn’t leave his side, he agreed. You were so glad he did now that you were watching him take it all in.

“All these people…” Din trailed off, losing his voice.

“They all support love.” You finished the thought. “Regardless of labels, they all just wanna be who they are, love who they want. There’s always some protesters, but whatever, don’t pay them any mind. We outnumber them.” You chuckled.

“I had no idea this was out here, all this time.” He breathed.

You had to bite your lip to keep your own emotions in check. The look of awe, the unshed tears in his eyes. You felt drawn to the sweet, quiet man like a moth to a flame. You’d been falling for him for months, the embers of your crush only stoked when he opened up about his sexuality and yes, you were in his spectrum. The glimmer of hope that he might be attracted to you dangled in front of you like a feathered cat toy… but you just couldn’t risk it. He had opened up to you, come to you for guidance and a shoulder to cry on. You felt guilty taking that away from him if you pushed that line too far. You’d crush on him silently while remaining a pillar of support.

“C’mon,” you wrapped your hand around his forearm - a safer place than taking his hand or feeling the enticing muscle hidden under the sleeve of his t-shirt - “let’s dive in.”

You watched Din carefully as you two walked the streets and took in all the sights. You wanted to know if he was getting overwhelmed or uncomfortable, but he took it all in stride. He had lots of questions about the performing drag queens, and not all that you could answer yourself. You laughed heartily at the look on his face when one queen draped her boa over his shoulders with a shimmy.

There were people doing tarot readings, which while he seemed intrigued about, didn’t want to miss anything else by waiting in the long line. You shared a rainbow coloured ice cream sundae which turned your tongue different colours as you went, both of you laughing as you stuck your tongue out periodically - you forced yourself not to think about how the flavors would taste on his tongue every time it came out a different colour.

You made a point to stop at some information booths for local groups, picking up flyers for Din to look over later. Sports teams, choirs, friendship/support groups; Din was absolutely shocked to find there were arms of religion that not only accepted but supported LGBTQ+ rights. You knew he was struggling with reconciling his religious teachings with the “real world” and thought maybe these groups might be able to help navigate it more than you could with your limited experience.

A face painting booth caught your eye and you dragged Din over, not that he was putting up much of a fight. There were a few people doing the face painting, some clearly artists who would do a full-face of whatever you requested, but also there were some that were simply painting pride flags on cheeks for the price of a donation to a local queer youth shelter.

You and Din looked over the board they had set up of different flags, all that you had seen throughout the day as you explored.

Dropping some money into the bucket, you sat on the stool and asked for a bisexuality flag. Din stood by and watched as the artist painted. You kept quiet, not wanting to cause them to mess up.

“Well? What do you think?” You prompted when they were done.

“It looks nice.” Din nodded.

“Did you want one too?” The artist asked, looking Din’s way.

You looked over to Din, smiling as you waited for him to answer. As comfortable as he’d grown in your time walking around and meeting new people, you didn’t know if he was ready to wear anything pride related. It was his call, but you looked as encouraging as you could.

“Um, can I get this one?” He asked, pointing at the Pansexuality flag. Your heart soared for him. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of finding the right label, but feeling comfortable enough to display the flag on his cheek was definitely progress.

“Of course!” They answered, gesturing for Din to sit in the stool as they got the right colours ready. As he sat, you gave his shoulder a squeeze. He looked up at you with a soft smile, eyes shining with excitement.

“Have you ever had your face painted before?” You questioned, realizing that it probably wasn’t the kind of thing he’d grown up with.

“I don’t think so.” He shrugged.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I had a virgin.” The artist teased with a wink, making you laugh as Din blushed bright red. You ran your hand across his shoulders to soothe him through the embarrassment, although all it did was make your own face flush as you felt the firm muscles twitch under his shirt.

“All done!” It took the artist only a few moments to swipe the three colours evenly along his cheek. They lifted a handheld mirror so Din could see for himself. He nodded his approval with a quiet thanks, adding some more money into the collection bucket.

“C’mere, let’s get into the sun for a picture!” You suggested as you skipped ahead of him. He followed, grinning at your excitement as you found the perfect spot and opened up your camera.

He leaned over you, head nearly resting on your shoulder as you started snapping selfies. Happy ones, goofy ones, serious ones. Your thumb automatically tapped every few seconds as the two of you made different faces. When Din pressed his lips to your cheek, the picture captured every ounce of surprise you felt.

“Thanks for bringing me here.” Din smiled as you tucked your phone away, trying to hide your burning face.

“Y-yeah. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You stuttered, picking at some non-existent lint on your shirt.

“Did I do something wrong?” The flatness in Din’s voice made your head shoot up. He was frowning, the excitement of the day all but vanished from his expression.

“No. W-W-Why… Why would you think that?” You shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the reaction you had to a simple, friendly kiss.

“I kissed you, and you…” He trailed off, gesturing at you in lieu of verbalizing his thoughts. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, Din. Don’t apologize-”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now-”

The two of you began speaking at once, only to both pause when you realized the other was talking.

“Trying to tell me what?” You asked, feeling that familiar heat rising up your neck into your cheeks.

“I… I like you… more than just friends…” Din admitted, looking down and kicking at a rock on the ground. “I guess today just… made me feel… brave.”

“Really?” You squeaked, voice malfunctioning as you fought to keep your body under control. You wanted to jump, sing, cartwheel, hell you would fly if you had the ability.

“You don’t have to like me back. I don’t want it to change anything.” Din continued, still focussed on the rock.

You tucked your hand under his chin, forcing him to look up and see with his own eyes how you felt about his confession. His eyes widened a fraction when he took in the wide smile you wore ear to ear.

“I definitely like you back.” You confirmed. “And you are one of the bravest people I know.”

A sigh of relief gave way to a matching smile on Din’s face, the two of you smiling at each other widely, neither sure what to say next.

“Din?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

The only regret the two of you held from your first real kiss was the smudged flags on your cheeks.

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata @phoenixhalliwell @vonschweetz @insideafictionaluniverse @driedgreentomatoes @computeringturtle @spideysimpossiblegirl

#Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin x You #Mando x Reader #Mando x You #Din Djarin imagine #din djarin drabble #Din Djarin fluff #WookieTales #jey’s pride celebration 2k21 #Writer Wednesday

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moonsugar-and-spice · 2 years

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Hello yes a local Storms lover and fellow writer here! (I'm actually the first 'time??? Wh???' anon if you were wondering)

I just wanted to ask, how did you craft such a long yet cohesive narrative? I strive for such beauty, but alas, I always seem to fall short...

However, the fic idea I just had begs to be a long fic, despite my struggles with them ;w;

Storms is a beautifully composed fic and if I can learn just slightly from it and you I'd be over the moon

Ah, my "What is Time" anon, hello again! 😄 Thank you for the sweet words, and I’m so glad that you've enjoyed it. It’s exciting to hear that you may be embarking on your own Long Fic journey — it can certainly be both fun and daunting! I am far from an expert, but happy to share some of the things I’ve learned that have helped me along the way.

Being a life-long avid consumer of literature, I would say I’ve probably learned the most through reading. And honestly, if there was one piece of advice I were to give a newer writer, or one wanting to branch out into longer fiction, it would be that. To become a good writer, first and foremost you have to read. A lot. And not only novels, but short stories and even poetry, too, and really pay attention to the story structure and how different authors utilize word choice, plot devices, and other elements to weave their stories together. Try to read it as a writer (which isn't always easy when you get sucked in) and take note of all the elements that make it work. Poems are often shorter and more abstract, and obviously differ from other forms of narrative, but the structure of a poem can provide a layer of meaning to the piece and be a great resource for studying subtext.

There are also a lot of writing blogs out there with a wealth of great articles. One of my personal favorites is Writers Helping Writers, the blog of Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi, who are not only masters of their craft but genuinely awesome people. I used to read a lot of writing blogs when I was first starting out, and often still do. You can never stop learning and improving.

But, simply put, writing is hard. There are some amazing published authors I follow that make it look easy and effortless, but every one of them will tell you that it is hard work, hair-pulling at times, even if there is simultaneously immense joy in it. There are so many elements to keep in balance — I’ve likened it to feeling a lot like juggling plates. You get a few going well, adding a plate here, removing one there, and trying to keep them all in the air, but suddenly you're overwhelmed and hadn’t realized you’d be juggling this many plates when you started out. And maybe you’re not sure you’re good enough, experienced enough to keep them from crashing down before you can set the table in some organized fashion. But, eventually, you begin to see where your weak spots are as a writer. You may have to get out the broom and dustpan, much as it pains you, sweep up the broken pieces, and start again, but the more you practice, the more you strengthen those muscles. Unfortunately, there’s no Easy Button, really, or other way to improve than just lots of practice, and lots of reading.

But another thing I’ve found immensely helpful in keeping things cohesive is knowing how I want the story to end. It is the one thing I must know before starting out, but I also make sure to outline the important turning points along the way, both for plot and character arcs. I find that having a destination to aim for, as well as those smaller-scale, short-term goals for plot and characters, helps keep the story (and my sanity, heh) together. Everyone’s process will look different, of course; some people like the free-spiritedness of straight-up Pantsing, others are strict Plotters, and what works for one might not work for another. I personally fall somewhere in the middle as a Plantser — I like to keep an open mind and allow room for fun creative exploration and "happy accidents" that might make the story even better, but have a blueprint of sorts to guide me.

Also, you might think about what you want to say through this story (why is it begging to be written?), the overarching theme/s you want to explore and weave into the narrative. Find ways to show them through these turning points and character arcs. In Storms, I wanted to explore Ozai’s character and what might have made him into the man he became. No one is just born a monster. Naturally, readers will come to your stories with their own lens and life experiences, so everyone will take away different things, but if I were to describe Storms to someone in a nutshell thematically, I might say I’m writing about trauma and its cycle. About abuse and self-loathing and the armor we wear to cope. Holding onto hate and anger, and sipping its poison. But also about forgiveness and second chances, about learning your walls are also trapping yourself, and the courage it takes to let go.

I hope at least some of this layman advice has been helpful to you. The most important thing always, I say, is just to have fun with it and try not to let fear or self-doubt cramp your style (something I’m still working on). Just start writing and see where it takes you. You can often salvage those broken plates, but you can't edit an empty page. Best of luck to you on your writing adventures!

#thanks for the ask!#thank you anon #on writing #fanfiction #long fics #writing tips #fanfic writers #writing is hard #anyone who says otherwise is selling something #atla fanfiction #storms of ice and fire

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mybg3notebook · 3 years

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Astarion Analysis Summary

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were made up to the game version v4.1.101.4425. As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information.

This will be a summarasing analysis integrating most of the main characteristics shown and proven in the post (Astarion Analysis)

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

Alignments are usually a topic of discussion since characters can be so complicated, that they are hard to put in some place on the spectrum. However, for Astarion’s case, it’s clear that he is an Evil-aligned character, like Shadowheart and Lae’Zel. Whether he lies on a Chaotic side or a Neutral one is a bit less important (personally, I believe this small shift is the most you will be able to change Astarion through the main game, but I will explain that in another post Astarion and Power -Part 2).

What is most important is to understand that we are analysing an Evil char, so his personality will lay in the negative characteristics. He likes all degrees of cruelty [3,6], violence [2, 13], and murder [2], having a particular taste for animal cruelty [4]. He finds this cruelty funny.

When it comes to animal cruelty, he has a broader concept of what’s animal than most Tavs would consider: he includes kobolds, goblins, and gnomes as such [5]. So all the cruelty upon them would be labelled, for his standards, as “animal” cruelty. This is why I specify he has a particular taste for this type of cruelty: he doesn’t only enjoy the death and torment of animals, but also of races he considers as such [5].

He has many racial biases [5] (hardly any char in Forgotten Realm lacks them): he only sees valuable elves and some humans (not all, since he despises the Gur) probably as a consequence of his backstory. Let’s remember that a group of Gur put him at death's door, forcing him into accepting Cazador's proposition. However, it’s also important to keep in mind he put himself in that situation with his corrupted magistrate role as a mortal (Swen’s interview).

He supports the most common biases about Tieflings and Gurs [5], and mocks halfling and Dwarven Tavs. He sees goblins, kobolds and gnomes as animals. Probably the list is broader, since all this information is what's present in the EA game at the moment.

Astarion as a character has a play of concepts with the duality animal/owner [14]. He speaks about choice as the element that separates animals from humanoids. Animals react out of instinct, thinking creatures choose to act. This speech doesn’t end with him claiming choice but being an animal desiring to kill. If in any other instance he would show a hint of empathy, one would be inclined to think his character is about the overwhelming reactions of a wounded animal installed by the abuse. But I hardly see it like that. He was twisted before turning into a vampire.

As such, he speaks about “survival instinct” [14]. With the little we see and can read in his approvals and disapprovals, he is looking for acceptance from Tav about his vampire nature, for the sake of survival. This character is an extreme survivalist. Astarion would care nothing about endangering or even killing innocent people to guarantee his survival. Once more, we see in the way he speaks about survival, the constant repetition of the symbol of “animal”.

He is greedy [1], no matter if what he gains is little or not; as long as it gives him a small reward (he hates to help for free), or if it causes pain, torment, or the death of the person he is interacting with, it’s enough. If Astarion doesn’t have a radical change in his background, we can be assured this greed comes from his past mortal life, when he was a corrupt magister to the point to double sell criminals to a local vampire lord and to slavers.

Manipulation [7]is the main characteristic in him. His words and mannerisms change as the game progresses, playing with the tones and the half-truth/lies he keeps saying. During his first interactions with Tav, Astarion is very careful in sharing his opinion about the events, —his judgements are always vague—while he tries to appraise Tav. This can be easily seen when he has no opinion about Kagha’s snake killing Arabella and playing an obvious mind game to Tav. For further detail check (Astarion and his Standards).

He is sometimes considered a prankster [3], but I prefer to call him Evil Trickster (pretty much like Shadowheart, who has trickster domain as cleric) who enjoys pranks to a higher degree of torment, ending sometimes with the death of the person in question. He enjoys, following this Trickster nature, the humiliation of people in general and outsmarting small people in particular [6]. He is aware that outsmarting powerful ones can bring consequences hard to deal with [7] (as he warns when Tav thinks about outsmarting Raphael), but applying all these torments to weak people is inconsequential, and therefore, enjoyable for him without risks.

We already stated that he enjoys the suffering of people [2,3], but he has a particular taste for the torment of the weakest ones [6]. The root of this pleasure for humiliating weak creatures comes from his desire for power. Astarion is a char deeply related to power [11], not as a goal itself (not power for the sake of power), but as a means to obtain revenge, and in the process, become a Master. I will analyse this aspect in another post (Astarion and Power part 1/ part 2).

However, I think it’s worth noting that Astarion’s descriptions of Cazador reflect not only his need for power but also his desire for that kind of power applied in a similar goal. Astarion despises Cazador’s obsession for power, but he has little problem to aspire to it. The obsession with any kind of power, especially the one given by the tadpoles which bend the will of people (mind control) [11], his paranoia, his constant desire to become master [14], his pleasure in cruelty and humiliation [2,3,4,6]… all these characteristics are very descriptive of Astarion too. Cazador and Astarion seem to be each other’s mirrors ( for more details check post Astarion and Power part 1/ part 2). .

Despite hating to be involved in anyone else's problems [9], he encourages and supports most acts of revenge [8,16], especially the ones against figures that can be interpreted as master. This will occur if and only if Astarion perceives the victim of such a master as a strong and resilient creature worth the trouble, i.e. Karlach [16].

He enjoys most Intimidation options you can pick [13], since they can result in the humiliation of a certain NPC, as a demonstration of power, or simply as elements for tormenting NPCs that would lead to murderous situations which are “funny” shows for Astarion. In general, most intimidation tags will be approved by him, except the ones that could be used to defuse violent outcomes.

All these evil pleasures can be considered as “the result” of turning into a vampire, but if we stick to what Swen has explained during the first demonstrations of the game and interviews before the release of EA, we know Astarion has been an Evil character during his mortal life. He was a corrupt magistrate in Baldur’s Gate, who fed the local coven of vampires with criminals. Being greedy, and trying to bite more than he knew he could chew, he sold this food into slavery to earn more money. As a consequence (directly or plotted by Cazador, we don’t know) he was attacked by a group of Gurs who almost beat him to death. Cazador appeared soon afterwards to grant him immortality with the curse of Vampirism. As we can see, he is not better than he was when he was a mortal elf.

A deeper relationship with concepts such as power, abuse, and victim will be explained in another post ( Astarion and Power-part 2). From Astarion’s brief background we can see that he has been an abuser in his mortal life. Due to his own actions, Cazador grasped him into his power and inflicted torment, humiliation, and violence of many kinds, for two centuries, twisting his personality into evilness even more than before (we also need to remember that not only torture may have twisted his personality, vampirism via Dark Desires causes a natural perversion of the persona as well). He now aspires to become more powerful, a reflection of Cazador himself, as a way to acquire his freedom. He wants power to be free [7, 11, 13, 14], and the power of mind-controlling others excites him [10,11] to no end, ignoring completely the cognitive dissonance of his own mind as an ex slave [12]. Although he suffered slavery in his own flesh, he is pretty apathetic (or even supports) slavery [10]. Some players may understand his narration of Cazador’s torments as a means to manipulate Tav, others, as a self-dismissal of his own traumatic experiences.

His story seems to narrate the story of an abuser who found a greater abuser and became a victim of the latter, seeking to return to a stronger power position (the greatest vampire of the world—description in Larian web page—). Despite suffering this abuse, that could be understood as poetic justice to certain degree, he never developed empathy for those sharing his condition. He cares little when he sees others in the same situations he had been ( for more details check post (Astarion and Power part 1/ part 2).

Some fans see that Astarion detests slavery, and he is just putting a show of a thick-skinned survivor, pretending that it does not affect him. I can’t see it with all what we see in EA. This “supposed” repulsive emotion should be a matter of narrative (we should see it in clear approvals or disapprovals as meta-knowledge), not a baseless imagination/wish of the player. We know that there are hundreds of resources to show hidden emotions in characters. Remorse or a desire to improve can be perfectly shown without being explicit, even when he may not be conscious of them. We can see how this is managed with Shadowheart, and we know there is something going on under her cruelty despite knowing little about herself (she knows less of her past and still yet we manage to see some degrees of goodness in her despite her evil inclinations).

So I don’t believe that Astarion has some remorse going on, because if it were the case, it has not been shown in any scene so far. To me, it makes much more sense for him to develop as a full evil character inside the spectrum of evilness. After all, and following the tradition of the mechanics seen in BG1 and BG2, a redemption arc of an evil char of this magnitude makes little sense (We can remember Edwin,Dorn Il-Khan, Sarevok Anchev, Viconia DeVir, Baeloth Barrityl, Xzar, or Hexxat, all evil chars whose development was always inside their evilness or showed, in few cases, a slight shift of it). But further details and reflections will be addressed in another post (Astarion and Power part 1/ part 2).

As a last detail, we can or cannot believe his statement of having lost his memories (he can perfectly claim it to hide his evil past from the main character to have a better manipulation of Tav) but considering Larian has kept most of the DnD vampire characteristics, I would like to bring awareness of a particular vampiric effect named Dark Desires (here). It’s the twistessness of the mortal-desires, which due to the fact that Astarion’s had always been dark, changed little with his vampiric nature, or just deepened in its perversion, and may cause sometimes the loss of memories (he was greedy and cruel before, now he stays the same, but darker and morbider.)

In short we can summarise Astarion as a moral bankrupt narcissist, a survivalist no matter the cost, a power-hungry character who wants to bend people’s will. He uses manipulation as his main tool, and enjoys violence, murder, and humiliation. Despite his slave past, he enoys acts of cruelty and torture on innocent or weak creatures. All his actions and words seem to ominously display a similarity with Cazador, as if his fate is to become the next Cazador.

This post was written on April 2021. → For more Astarion: Analysis Series Index

#astarion #bg3 early access #bg3 meta

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mofieroll · 4 years

Text

Cloud Nine (Giorno Giovanna x F!Reader)

A Post!VA Giorno Giovanna x Reader one shot where you meet him after being separated in childhood, and bond with his gang.

AU: Everybody Lives

Word Count: 5.4k

The rustling of papers, followed by a scribbling of pen, engulfed the room of a busy man. Daylight and wind coming from the balcony and windows helped him read through the documents with no problem. It was a nice sunny day, but it's nothing special for someone flooded with loads of work and responsibilities.

Since the day they defeated Diavolo, the previous evil boss of Passione, a mafia organization that stands at the top in Italy, and had his high-ranking position taken, the new boss made sure to achieve his justified dream and clean up the dirty mess in the organization. It was easier said than done: starting from removing and adding new rules, stopping operations that involved children and drugs, proving that he's worthy of being Passione's boss — as someone who has taken down a powerful boss with a heart of gold, he won't be one to use violent means to gain respect unless thoroughly provoked —, protecting himself against loyal followers of Diavolo, and many things that can either be said or is trivial in the mafia world.

That's just a gist of the work of Gang-STAR, Giorno Giovanna, and he's glad that he doesn't need to look out for his back because of his resilient comrades that he shared influencial goodness with.

“Giorno, Mista called me to meet you. I say, this must be something serious,” A man with straight bowl cut and gold pins wearing a black and gold suit entered after receiving permission to enter Giorno's office, “Are you going to send me somewhere?”

Giorno placed the documents and his pen aside, looking up to the man as he leaned his arms on his table, “Yes, although, it's a simple task.” He pushed a folder, which he got from a drawer, across the table for the other man to see.

The man took the folder and read the papers inside as he noted of the important details, “This is.. a profile of a girl and her father who's a well-known government official. For what exact reason did you show me this?”

“You should've known, Bucciarati. Of course we'd be babysitting that girl,” A man with long purple hair and lips who had a goth style entered, “Sorry not sorry for barging in, Giorno,” He lazily said as he walked to the two men on the table, the mentioned latter only nodding at him, “You could stop hiding now, Narancia. Giorno said it's okay for us to go in.”

“Eh? Are you sure, Abbacchio?” Another man, who seemed to be more fitting of the word best boy, peeked from the outside of the door, his orange headband being the most noticeable, “I didn't hear Giorno say something since we came here earlier!”

“Clean your ears, didn't you hear him talk to Bucciarati?” Abbacchio replied.

Giorno looked at Bucciarati as a demand of explanation, “We had hesitations on knocking, Giorno. It makes sense that you're busy and we wouldn't want to disturb you, especially since you haven't left this room for days.” He received, making him nod in understanding.

Narancia had now entered the room, reading the folder and sitting on the couch with Abbacchio as Bucciarati sat on one of the chairs in front of Giorno's table, “So, you're saying that I'll be bringing her to you from the airport, and that's it?” Bucciarati asked with ceased brows, receiving a quiet nod from the blonde.

“It doesn't make one hell of a sense. So what if she's the daughter of a politician? That doesn't make her special to have the mafia as her bodyguards,” Abbacchio raised a brow at Giorno, snatching the folder from Narancia's hold and slid it on the coffee table, “THAT doesn't make her special to have YOU as her bodyguard, Giorno.” He pointed out, resting his back on the couch with crossed arms like an angry dad.

Narancia scratched his head with a scrunched nose, “Isn't it exactly what makes her special? Being a child of a famous politician is no joke, so it'd be safer for them to have the mafia on their side, right?” He asked in confusion, making Abbacchio glance at him with an ‘I know that, idiot’ look.

Bucciarati cleared his throat, “What Abbacchio and Narancia's trying to say is, we understand that her life is on the line because she'll be alone for a whole month here in Italy, but why does it have to be you, Giorno, that has to take care of her? You have better things to do as Passione's new boss, we could easily do it for you.” He told Giorno who was expectant of their questions.

“That is not what I—”

“Yeah, totally! It's like how we did with Trish, you know? Oh, we could just take her to Trish too, Giorno! Girls have this thing for each other—”

Narancia stopped himself after receiving a warning glance from the capo, and also realizing that he was face-to-face with his boss. This is work they're talking about. Chats, even if it's with his closest friends, aren't welcome right now.

“I understand your concerns, Abbacchio, Bucciarati. And thank you for the suggestion, Narancia, but I've already decided that she'll be staying with me. I trust that she won't be much of a nuisance than we think she would be, so my significant work for Passione won't get disturbed. There is absolutely no reason to worry,” Giorno glanced at Bucciarati, “I would only need Bucciarati to bring her to me, and that will be all. You don't need to get involved, Abbacchio.”

“You made it sound like you know her well, Giorno. But since you gave me permission not to care, that's what I'll be doing. You have my thanks.” Abbacchio stood up and raised his hands, making a roll motion on one before he bowed and had the three men watch him leave the room.

Narancia did not follow the long-haired man, and instead firmly sat on the couch with a pout on his face, “Is there something you want to tell me, Narancia?” Giorno asked, figuring that the boy had an unspoken thought in his mind.

Bucciarati excused himself, bowing before he says that he'll be preparing the car. Narancia waited for him to leave before jumping from the couch to the seat in front of Giorno's table, who had been waiting for him to speak up.

“This is my only chance now that the oldies are out of the way— Giorno, can I go with Bucciarati?” He asked after preventing the chair from falling. Giorno nodded, “Then— can we hang with her? Like if she's with you and stuff? I'm.. kind of missing Trish so..”

Right, of course Narancia would be excited that a girl would be bonding with them again even if it's not Trish, who moved somewhere in Italy to continue and enjoy the life she deserved. Giorno saw no harm in letting his group connect with you, so he nodded once again.

Narancia grinned, jumping from the chair to the ground with a fist above. He faced Giorno to bow, almost reaching the floor, and ran to the door as he regained his energy. Giorno felt himself smile, silently glad that he got through an adventure with the same people that he's with now.

“Ah, thanks Giorno! You're the best boss! We'll be sure to bring [Y/N] safe!”

[Y/N].. [Y/N] [L/N]. The name of someone who he thought he'd never see again. Someone he met as Giorno, but kept calling him Haruno because she thought he'd remember him better if she does. Now that he recalls it, more flashbacks of you came into mind, driving him to have a break from work and chill on the balcony. He leaned on the fence and observed the garden below him.

You were a childhood friend of Giorno's that he met here in Italy. You belonged to a wealthy family who had connections to the people on the upper hierarchy, consisting of an overwhelming line of successful politicians. When he knew of this, he was already your bestfriend who you invited to hang out at your family mansion, and there he felt at home more than he did at his own. Your mother was a simple and humble woman while your father was the tough and thoughtful kind. Giorno saw for himself how you managed to be sweet yet cunning at the same time — you often scared off his bullies —, making him develop a puppy crush on you at the age of eight.

Everything was going well with you and your family on his side, your father privately scaring his father if he intended to hurt him more, your mother trying to make his mother understand that he needs proper loving and care. But then, it had to end. For a reason unknown to him and yourself, your family had to move to another country, and that's with no proper goodbyes.

It's not really the time to be melancholic, you're coming back at Italy after all. How did he even know of you and your family's whereabouts if you were gone in his life for a decade now? Simple, because if the boss of Passione aims to achieve something, he'll use his available resources to get it. Relating that to you, he'd say that connecting with your family and meeting you again was his goals, and he's proud that he overcame it. After speaking to your father and proving to him that he's to be trusted with your well-being and safety, he was informed that your father will be sending you to Italy for vacation. Your father even thanked him for appearing in the right time, saying that he wouldn't want you to be completely alone with strangers when he and her wife's away for work, and that you would be happier with him.

Technically, you'd be alone with strangers if you're with him too — his diverse gang crossing his mind —, but did your father mean it when he said you'd be happier with him? He didn't tell your father what he does in his life now, and that just proves how much he's trusted by the [L/N]s.

But will you trust him if you learn that he's the boss of a mafia organization? Yes, it's nonsense to doubt you. What matters is that you get to spend time together once more.

You're still his biggest crush and his first love now, after all.

—

You crouched outside the airport, your backpack resting in front of your chest as you faced your sunglasses on the back of your head. You know you looked ridiculous, but the boredom of waiting for Haruno had striked you. You arrived thirty minutes earlier, expecting that he'd be early too, but the cute familiar black-haired Japanese wasn't in sight. You were starting to think that your papa tricked you so that he could have your mama alone, but that didn't sound right for middle-aged people like them. Plus, why did they have to send you back here at your hometown just so you could be safe? Well, they obviously didn't know that you could take care of yourself with the help of your.. psh. None of it made sense, but since it's free vacation you're talking about, you just brushed off the complains.

“Excuse me, Signora, but are you [Y/N] [L/N]?”

A deep voice spoke from beside you, making you flinch in surprise. You could've sworn that the voice you heard was sexy, but what you saw when you looked up at the person beside you was much more sexier. You don't remember Italian men being this beautiful, “Yes! And you are?” You jumped to your feet, gulping as you stood in front of the man, “You aren't Haruno, are you?”

“Haruno..?” The man repeated and shook his head, “Sorry to disappoint, but no. My name is Bruno Bucciarati, a friend of Giorno Giovanna. I take it he's.. Haruno?”

You sounded an ‘oh..’ before nodding. You wanted to ask why he's here instead of your childhood friend, but you just waited for him to explain, not wanting to come off as rude.

“Alright, then you must be confused as to why I'm here instead of him?” He asked like he read your mind, making you nod, “I'll be brief for now, is that okay?” He asked again and you gave a pursed smile in return, noticing how he acknowledges your comfort, “Hm, to start off, Giorno has a busy work. It mostly takes away all his time, including now, so we volunteered to fetch you here and bring you to him.”

You were about to ask where he is now and what work does he do but you did not, thinking it must be private, “Is that so, Bucciarati? Thank you for your time, but you didn't have to do this! I could just wait until he's.. uh, free and not busy!” You smiled, “Besides, I'd be pretty jetlagged anytime now.. you could go with your friend and if it's no biggie, tell Haruno he shouldn't worry about me! I'll be here for a whole month anyways,” You convinced.

Bucciarati noted how you told him to go with his friend, connecting it with how he said ‘they’ volunteered. You're a perceptive one, huh? Abbacchio must be right, Giorno knows you very well, and that fact is enough for him to let you be the closest to him. You had to be someone Giorno's familiar with for him to guard you himself, someone who has to be special to him.

He smiled back at you, “I'm sure Giorno would love your company, Signora. Won't you be staying with him?”

And with that, Bucciarati had you speechless. He had reminded you that you'll be living with Haruno as a safety measure. It sounded cute when it came from your papa because he still saw both of you as kids, but now that you know that he works for a living, the realization that he's matured mentally and.. physically had hit you. The excitement of meeting him again didn't let the realization cross your mind when you agreed to living with him here.

But again, it's your best childhood friend you're talking about, so no complains.

You now sat on a couch of what seemed to be an office after the ride with Bucciarati and his other friends Narancia and Mista. You almost decided to have a happy crush on Bucciarati, especially on how soft he was around you, but you backed it off after meeting the other two who just had the most chaotic energies you aspired to have. You learned from Mista that Narancia struggled with mathematics so you told him that you could help him, while you noticed on the former that he had a pistol with him so you asked him if he could teach you sometimes, both offers being ecstatically agreed to. The plans for your vacation were going well, but you still haven't met Haruno. Sucks that you've been told to stay and wait at the room you're in without the candidates of who's going to be your vacation crush.

As you searched inside your bag, a person entered the room, “I'm sorry for making you wait, I went outside to buy food for us.” Thinking that the person was one of the first three you met, you didn't looked up and continued searching, only saying ‘It's fine!’.

The person, who happened to be Giorno, had three boxes of pizza and two tubs of ice cream in his arms. It was whack food for his reuniting with you, but he knows that you won't be having the energy to eat at a fancy restaurant right now. He'd be sure to take you in one, though.

He placed the foods on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite of where you were, trying to have a proper look of your face. You had your natural [H/C] covering it though, your bowed head making it even impossible for him. He sat properly and faked a cough, at that you had already found what you were looking for.

You lifted your head, but unfortunately, the photo you were holding hid your face. Is he being teased right now?

On the other hand, you were smiling and admiring the photo. It had an image of you and Haruno, both your arms hanging on each other's necks as you cheekily grinned and he had a smile, your head resting on his. It was just one of the mementos you had, a lot of stuffs stored back at your room. Looking back makes you feel warm everytime, but it could be better if you met Haruno right now.

Giorno faked a cough once again, and you peeked, quickly putting back the photo inside after you saw a new.. face. He wore a black and green suit that bared his chest as he had his usual hairstyle, his long blonde hair tied into a fish braid while his hair's brim were rolled into three. Giorno was looking “mhm!” and you had to deny it, aiming not to embarrass yourself.

You placed your backpack beside you and fixed your sitting position, “Ah.. sorry, I thought you were someone I already met. I'm [Y/N] [L/N], do you own this place? Bucciarati and the others told me to wait here for Haruno, I could wait somewhere else if you want!”

It was a given that he'd be unrecognizable because of his hair and brows turning blonde, but Giorno had widened his eyes, shocked for one fact: you called him Haruno.

“Uhm.. hey? I'm sorry again. I'll just go wait outside now, thank you!” You were fast on clinging your bag to your shoulders and hurrying to the door, but not fast enough for the Giorno Giovanna with you. Before you could open the door, Giorno went beside you and held your wrist with a firm grip.

Giorno gulped the slump in his throat, “It's me, [Y/N],” He started, confusing you, “Haruno.. Haruno Shiobana.”

You dropped your backpack upon hearing this, a surprised face on you, “W-what? But.. he isn't.. are you.. no, there's no reason for you to do that. Is it.. really you? Like.. my Haruno Shiobana? My Giorno? My GioGio?” You held his shoulders and shook his taller form, your voice becoming more and more loud as you asked his names.

Giorno let out a tranced chuckle as he looked at your eyes, seeing your eyes express your excitement. Oh, how much he missed those, “Yes, [Y/N]. It's me, your Haruno.”

That was the confirmation you needed to finally burst out, your hands tightening on his shoulders as you jumped, “Can I.. can I hug you?” You politely asked, knowing how sensitive he can be to physical affection, and he slowly nodded.

You stomped your feet as a wide smile formed on your face, your eyes starting to well up tears. Wrapping your arms around his neck after you admired his beauty, locking him in a lodged hug, “I-I can't believe how much you've outgrown me! And blonde hair?! Are you kidding me?! It looks perfect on you! You were the cutest back then but now— I don't even know how to begin! Puberty hit you like an airplane crash when I'm here looking like a potato sack! You're really unfair, Haruno!”

Giorno had one of his rarest smiles on his face because of your adorable outburst, his arms wrapping around your waist to hug you back. You described yourself so wrong when your form and your charming personality wouldn't even have that as an option of definition. He lovingly rubbed your back, trying to soothe you as he felt warm tears on his shoulder, “Shh.. I wouldn't even dare challenge your own alluring beauty, cara.”

Unbeknownst to Giorno who was indulged in your hug though, a part of him was up and willing to challenge you.

His Stand, Gold Experience Requiem or GER, manifested behind him and on the side where you placed your head. Feeling a presence of someone, you looked up with quivering lips, gasping as your eyes laid on a gold humanoid floating behind Giorno. You stepped back and pulled the man with you, pointing to the humanoid, “H-Haruno! Look out!”

Giorno changed your position and pushed you behind him out of fighting instinct, giving him a decent look on his sentient Stand, “GER? [Y/N].. you can see it?” He turned to look at you and you nodded, “You're a Stand User too.. I didn't know about that.”

Giorno led you to the couch with GER behind him and sat beside you, explaining to you what a Stand is. You were glad to know that you weren't the only one with an ability who had a form that no one else around your home sees, so when he asked you to show your Stand, you confidently called for its name. It manifested behind you, its head resting on your shoulder. Giorno, as the sweetheart that he is to you, complimented it before asking its ability. As you were explaining your Stand's ability, both of your and Giorno's Stands now faced and admired each other's forms behind the couch.

“Stand Users attract each other, huh? That's neat.”

Abbacchio, who had his red and green headphones and his eyes closed, stood by the now opened door with crossed arms. Your Stands weren't bothered by the disturbance and just kept staring at each other while you and Giorno had your attention on the man.

“I-I'm sorry, would you like to join us? You must be Haruno's friend too, it would be great if we all got along, wouldn't it? He actually bought too much pizza so..” You informed after hesitating. You walked up to the door, Giorno following you while he had his eyes glued on Abbacchio, ready to warn him not to be rude to you, “I'm [Y/N] [L/N], and you must be?”

Abbacchio opened an eye and saw his boss' firm look. He clicked his tongue and pushed himself from leaning to face you, “Leone Abbacchio.”

Giorno softened when you turned to face him with a cheerful smile, “Haruno, can we call the others? Pizza and ice cream is better when shared, yeah?”

Abbacchio observed Giorno carefully, and he never thought he'd see him go all soft and protective just for a woman. The way he looked at you was different, like he adored everything about you and every word you say. Yet, this was the same Giorno who stepped out of his league to achieve his impossibly deadly dream. Giorno Giovanna never fails to surprise him, it seems.

“Yes, of course, as long as you're comfortable. I'll call them, you should go sit while you wait,” Giorno stepped aside, leting you walk back to the couch and join the staring contest between the Stands. He faced Abbacchio, “You should go sit with her, Abbacchio. How about you try to see if she's as special as I think she is?”

Abbacchio smirked on Giorno's challenge. He won't be able to use his old trick without a tea set available, but that isn't to say he doesn't have any more up his dress sleeves, “It's my pleasure, Don Giorno.”

Oblivious to Giorno's hands behind him, you caught his signal that both of you invented when you were children. It was made just for fun, usually used when you two hung out at your home and had nothing to do except to troll your parents and the helpers. It was fun seeing them get utterly confused with your and Giorno's antics, maybe it won't be so bad to have a little trip to nostalgia.

And needless to say, it was a fun trip, not just for you and Giorno, but for the whole gang, after seeing Abbacchio get his peach handed back to him from you. You had doubts if you should do that one prank you devised long ago against a man who looked like he knew of your deepest secrets, but it was successful nonetheless. The others got back to the office while you were doing it, and like they were used to the tense atmosphere caused by harmless waggery, they waited for the big reveal of who'll be the embarrassed and the victor. In this case, Abbacchio lost, hissing as he almost flipped the table in dismay, and you won, leaning on the arm of the couch as you made two peace signs and crossed your arms, a smug grin and black sunglasses on your face — which your Stand mimicked — while Narancia and Mista screamed behind you, the Sex Pistols jumping up and down your body as Aerosmith flew around. Bucciarati sat beside Abbacchio, calming him down, and Giorno was standing at the other end of your couch, smiling in amusement at them and in awe with you.

It has only been hours since you've met the gang, but the bonding was one of those spent with close friends. You felt at home with them, especially when Giorno's around, and they also did with you. Because of their experience with Trish, they had been inclined to thinking that guarding you isn't something of professional duty, although Giorno had thought of that from the start.

You were now laying and dozing off on the couch, the jetlag and drained energy getting to you. Giorno sat on the floor beside you, watching you as you slept peacefully.

Mista crouched beside Giorno as the others cleaned up, “Yo, boss. Shouldn't we put her to bed? She might wake up feeling uncomfortable.”

“She told me she..” Giorno had his face warm up, which didn't go unnoticed by Mista, “She wants to be close to me,” He said with the most unflustered voice he can do.

Mista surpressed a laugh, “Then go for it! Put her to bed and sleep with her! Aren't you childhood friends? The closest? Doesn't that mean you've slept with her before like when you're playing or something?”

Giorno sighed, still looking at you, “Well yeah, but this is different. We're not kids anymore.”

“Don't misunderstand, Giorno. You're just being by her side like she requested you to, she trusts you enough not to do anything that would ruin that trust. Besides, we all saw how you looked at her! It was obvious that you missed— Okay boss, I know you got it.” Mista, who had been carried away with giving advice, received a warning glance from Giorno, so he stopped himself and patted his boss' back before leaving.

Giorno patiently waited for everyone to leave — each of them giving him a thumbs up —, all the while sitted by your side as he thought of what Abbacchio said to him when he came back after the others had left.

“Hey, Giorno. She isn't a nuisance, at least. It's not everyday you get to spend a break with someone like her. Use your smart ass and don't ruin it.”

He was right, but what does he mean to not ruin it? You're resting, what else does he have to do? He could continue reading through his paperworks while he waited for you to wake up, that way he won't have to worry about those later and get to have more time for you.

It was settled. Giorno stood up and was going to walk to his table, only to be stopped by a hand. He looked back, and saw your hand unyieldingly holding his. Surprised, he checked your face, but you were still fast asleep and were not faking it. He hitched a breath, he's getting flustered over holding hands with you even if you closely held each other earlier. Did he intertwined his hand with you, or was it you who did it? To answer it, he tried to break free from your hold, but you tightened your grip.

“Gio..” You called for him, half-awake. You fluttered your half-lidded eyes as you tried to sit up, Giorno quickly helping you and sitting a little far from you after you've settled with folding your knees, his hand still in yours that rested on your lap. You covered your mouth with the other and yawned, “Ah, wooh! Remember when you.. asked me that one thing, Haruno?” You casually told him after stretching.

“I-it depends, [Y/N]. What thing is it?” Giorno gulped, are you not aware of your hands?

“It was your birthday.. it was the time we confessed our crushes to each other, to be precise,” You looked up and giggled on the memory, “I gave you a gift then you gave me a carnation flower. After that, you told me—”

“Is it alright if I ask you to be my someone like your mama is to your papa?” Giorno cut you off and squeezed your hand, recalling the exact words he told you that day. He began to like holding your hand, it would be a shame to let this miss.

You turned your eyes to him, “Yeah, that. I was wondering if you have someone right now who.. you know, who you asked that?” You gazed at him with pure curiosity, wanting to know more of the people he's most fond with. Meeting his squad had been a blast, and it would be great if you met his special one.

“Did asking you counted?”

“Wha?”

“Is it..?”

Awkward. Silence. You didn't expect him to answer like that, to answer with so much swiftness and poise like he already knew your question and had prepared what to say. Giorno surely grew out of his shell, and that thought made you smile unknowingly, which flushed him even more.

“Can I sit closer to you, [Y/N]?” Giorno tugged your hand after he asked, and you responded with facing to your side so he could move closer to you. You looked down on your clasped hands that broke hold with his, not knowing what to say when he literally confessed for the second time.

“Don't you feel cold with your open chest?”

“Can we hug again?”

Another. Awkward. Silence. You were trying to start up a new topic because it had been too quiet, but you were out of place. How do you even tell him that you still like him? Of course it isn't like the time when you were kids, shrugging off uneasy moments with outgoing replies and with the littlest of distractions. It had been years since you first saw each other, and the bond with the gang earlier helped you both catch up a bit, but it isn't going too well without them. Is it really alright to talk about such feelings now?

You glanced at the nervous Giorno and nodded, a small smile finding its way to his lips. He put an arm around your shoulder and gently pulled you in. You shifted your body and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head once again resting on his shoulder. With that, he proceeded to lock you in both of his arms as he placed his head on yours and closed his eyes, GER manifesting on your other side as it mimicked its user's hold on you.

Feeling your affectionate form nestle close to him is what he'd describe as his cloud nine, all the built-in stress being released as the snippets of emptiness that unfortunate circumstances brought were filled. How come you managed to be the same angel that he knew a decade ago? As someone incredibly whipped for you, he already knows the reason, but maybe he'd ask you of that sooner or later just to see you in a blushing state.

In the present, he'll gratify himself of this moment, the voice of Abbacchio saying that he should ‘use his smart ass and not ruin this’ echoing through his mind.

He kissed your crown as you snuggled closer to him, giving him the composure he needed to speak of his feelings for you, “Don't worry. You have the whole month to think of your answer to my question. For now, listen to my voice as I tell you how much you mean to me, even if I get separated from you for a devastating number of years.”

“Sei la luce della mia vita, amore mio.”

[End!]

#giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #vento aureo #jjba part 5 #golden wind #jojo's bizarre adventure #bucci gang x reader #haruno shiobana #i know i shouldve included our boi fugo im sorry TwT #leone abbacchio #narancia ghirga #guido mista #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jojo reader insert #let's assume pol got to reunite w/ joot and oldseph....#mirawrites

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wolfstar-in-color · 3 years

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What Are Image Descriptions and Why Are They Necessary?

Hello, colorful cuties! In the ongoing spirit of Disability Pride Month, we want to take some time this week to talk about image descriptions! Maybe you’ve noticed, we add these to every image we share, and we’d love to see a bit more attention to these in the wider, wonderful world of the wolfstar fandom.

So, first things first: what is an image description?

For the most part, it’s exactly what it sounds like: a textual description that details, in words, what is depicted in an image, graphic, or gifset.

Why are they necessary?

Two reasons. First, to make your visual content accessible to blind and low-vision folks, or folks who - for a variety of reasons - cannot look at the image (some examples would be people experiencing severe headaches or migraines exasperated by images or bright colors, people with severe color-sensitive epilepsy, autistic people with low tolerance for imagery, etc.). Many blind, low-vision, or otherwise visually sensitive people use text readers or Braille converters, which read aloud or convert to Braille the words on the screen - but most of them don’t know what to do with images, and thus skip them all together (the technology required to automatically describe images is coming! Exciting!) Second, to make your visual accessible to people without access to technology robust enough to support the image, for example, rural folks without access to broadband internet strong enough to load digital images.

Sure, but that can’t be that many people, right?

It’s more than you might think. 253 million people worldwide are blind or low-vision [source]. That’s more than 3% of everyone (and yes, I had to google that equation). In addition, 6% of the population of the United States does not have access to consistent broadband internet [source]. In Australia, that number is more than double [source]. Basically, what we’re saying is, that’s a lot of people who can’t engage with your wonderful visual work.

What kind of things need an image description?

Visual art (such as the amazing fanart so prolific in our fandom) is an obvious example, but gifsets, tiktoks, and videos of any kind also need image descriptions, as well as banners and headers.

Image descriptions are awkward, and I don’t know how to write them.

That’s okay, you’re not alone! If you’ve never written or encountered an image description, it can seem daunting and uncomfortable. We invite you to try it anyway! Throughout the rest of this week, we’ll be highlighting some useful resources and tip sheets on how to do this better.

I want to start writing Image Descriptions for some of the older art I love, but I’m worried I’ll describe something in a way that is offensive or incorrect.

We also worry about that, we’re still in the learning process too. We’ve learned that it’s important to include such things as skin color and race, body shapes, landscapes, etc., even when it feels awkward. Luckily, people much more qualified than us have some thoughts on doing this better. Stay tuned for our Resources Wednesday!

I’ve made some new visual content that I really want to share, but I’m not great with words - what can I do to make sure my work is still accessible?

You know your work best, and as such, you’re the best person to describe it. But if you just can’t find the words - or the task is prohibitively overwhelming to you, or maybe comes up against your own disabilities or limitations - that’s okay! We’d recommend asking a friend (maybe a fandom friend!) to help you out, or if you can afford it, paying a service or person to do it for you. Similarly, if you are someone who is good with words and descriptions, maybe offer to do them for your fandom friends!

Can I put it off and add it later?

Ask yourself this: would you upload an image/gifset/video that was incomplete? Well, maybe some of you would. But for the most part, you probably have a process. Maybe you outline a drawing, add shading, add color, and then upload (can you tell I’m not an artist?). Maybe you edit your gifs or videos a certain way. A piece of visual art without an image description is incomplete - it cannot be “seen” by a significant chunk of the population, and both you and we want your work to be seen! So we’d recommend just tacking adding an image description onto the end of your process.

Okay, you’ve convinced me that image descriptions are necessary. What’s a good way to get started?

Stay tuned the remainder of this week for guides, tips, and an account from one of your mods about their own experience of becoming more comfortable with image descriptions. Or, just jump right on in! We hope to see more of these in our glorious fandom soon.

#Image Descriptions #Accesibility #HP Fandom #Wolfstar Fandom #Wolfstar

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justice4harwin · 3 years

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Light’s Corruption- Chapter III

Pairing: AlinaxTheDarkling

Rating: 18+

TW: Talks of sexual harassment and sexual assault of a minor.

Tags will be in the comments. Please don’t be shy and let me know if you wanna be added or if you no longer wish to be on the list.

Part II Here

Enjoy the reading! :D

Chapter 3: Plotting and Braiding

Alina threaded back to her room alone, while Genya took a detour to the kitchens to fetch them something to eat.

Arriving back into the comforts of her own chambers, she felt a great relief. To say the afternoon with the queen had been tense was an understatement, and she was sure that the arrival of the king at the end was not only due to his obsession with Genya. She had no idea what The Darkling had told the king so far regarding her training, but he didn't seem like a patient man. Surely, he already knew about her little display that very same day in the gardens.

Looking around, she noticed someone had bought back her pencil and flask of ink and placed it on her desk.

She took off her kefta and put on a simple blue nightgown with golden embroidery that reached her knees. Someone had put on a fire, thankfully, and she was quick to stand by it to warm herself, eagerly waiting for her friend to return.

On the one hand, she was excited. Genya was her first girlfriend, and despite having known each other for a few months only, they had grown quite close. As childish as it may sound, the idea of a sleepover made her excited. Before, in Keramzin, she and Mal would sneak out into a corner and play quietly, talk, or just sit there in silence; but none of the older girls had let her play with her since she tended to be very easily tired, and by the time a few other girls came in, she was too old to keep up with them without exhausting herself.

On the other hand, Genya's semblance had been almost sombre as she left her, and that made her anxious. What did the redhead want to talk about? Alina couldn't imagine. Did it have to do with the queen? Had she done or said something wrong? Was she worried about The Darkling finding out about her little lie? Saints knew how their royals asses would react if they knew General Kirigan to be unaware of something, as insignificant as they may deem it.

The Sun Summoner wanted to give the king and queen a few words.

Something kicked the door.

"Open up!"

Alina hurried and did as was asked, and Genya walked in with a big silver tray full of food precariously held in one hand and two bottles of wine in the other.

Alina reached out and took the bottles from her, and with a relieved sound, Genya took a more solid hold of the tray and placed it on top of the rug near the fireplace.

"Where are the glasses?" the summoner asked.

She received a look of disbelief.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Moya Soverennyi, but I only have two arms."

"Right. Sorry." her cheeks turned pink as she balanced herself on the tip of her toes.

Genya stood up and strutted to the wardrobe.

"Please tell me you have something decent to lend me."

She didn't wait for a response as she pulled out a blue nightgown and began to take her kefta off.

Alina turned around, cheeks red, and heard her friend chuckling.

"Scared that I might be your type, Starkov?"

Alina giggled nervously.

"I just…you know, privacy, decency and all that." she cleared her throat, and after a moment of contemplation, with a trembling voice, decided to speak: "Back in Poliznaya, when I first enlisted, they didn't have resources enough for pretty much anything, so all men and women were put in the same room to sleep, and there was only one big bathroom." Alina had to clear her throat once more. "Uh, so, changing clothes was very uncomfortable because some men would just, make comments or look at us weird; and so after a few days, this girl, Maria, decided that we should do a small circle and take turns changing so they would leave us alone."

"Did they?"

"No." she huffed humourlessly. "It made their words harsher, but still, for a while, we stood in the circle, even if it took us longer to go to sleep or wash ourselves, so, yeah, … privacy."

"Did no one ever do anything?" Genya sounded concerned.

"Some guys tried to tell them once or twice, you know, to not do that, and others just gave us our space." Alina sighed. "In the end, we were there for about a year, so we couldn't keep it up. We learned to change our clothes quickly and wash ourselves even faster."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." her friend said softly, sincerely.

"It's fine." Alina tried to wave it off. "It's not like I was much more than skin and bones back then; I didn't get the worst of it."

She had had her share of inappropriate comments, yes, but after the time one of the other men sneaked up on her and Mal broke his nose, they all stopped.

"What? That's your girl, Oretsev?" the guy had asked, clutching his nose.

"No!" Mal had answered, a little too loudly, a little too quick, nostrils flaring. "But that doesn't mean you can go around behaving like a brute."

The guy hummed, looking more amused than annoyed.

"It's not as if she were much to look at anyways." one of his friends had said, picking him up from the floor while Alina anxiously clutched a shirt to her chest; Mal still standing in front of her, breathing heavily. The rest of the room had gone very silent. She had to get dressed; yet she couldn't move. Mal walked away, back to his group of friends.

"Well, you're more than skin and bones now." Genya said, slightly more enthusiastic. "I think it suits you. You look very pretty like this. And you don't have to turn around; I'm comfortable with you."

"Yeah, I'd rather not. Thanks."

"You're way too nice for this place, Alina." she said, almost pitiful.

"I can manage."

"Oh, you will. And I'll make sure of it. All done."

Alina turned and took her in. The nightgown was blue just like hers, slightly more revealing than the one Alina was currently wearing, and it fitted Genya's figure a little bit tight. Still, she looked stunning as usual.

"It's weird." she said. "Seeing you in something other than white, I mean."

The woman looked down, pale hands running over the soft fabric.

"It is." she conceded, a strange softness to her voice.

"You look nice."

"Darling, I look more than nice." she winked, getting back to the tray of food and letting herself fall next to it.

Alina handed her a bottle, which the redhead opened up and didn't waste time in chugging down a few big gulps. She rose her eyebrows. When Genya passed her the bottle, she contemplated the flames for a few seconds.

"Look, I don't know what we're supposed to do during sleepovers, but it doesn't matter. We have more pressing things to discuss."

"I said something wrong in front of Her Royal Pain in the Ass, didn't I?" Alina moaned, taking a massive sip of the liquid. It wasn't her favourite drink, but she was starting to feel like drowning and anything would do.

Genya giggled.

"No, you managed yourself quite well, in fact." She turned, clear eyes examining her friend's face, "Do you realize what the Queen was doing, Alina?"

"She, …wanted to gossip and belittle some people?"

"Well yes, but she never invites grisha."

"You said she wanted to show me off."

"Yes; and she also wanted intel." Genya leaned in closer as if to share a secret, even though it was just the two of them in the room. "Every one of your lessons is private, and General Kirigan never reports the progress of his grisha to the Royal Family anyways. He's always refused to, and it makes the King furious, but he's too afraid to do anything about it, …for now."

"But I am the Sun Summoner."

"Yes, so the stakes are high." Genya frowned. "If the King knows you're in a weak spot, he'll start to push, and that won't lead to anything good with the General and other Grisha but, …if you make some friends-"

"Like, with Zoya?!"her face was the reflection of her disgust as she took in a big gulp of wine.

"Just in general." Genya placed her forearm on the carpet and took a piece of cheese. "What you have to actually do, is make allies."

"You mean friends?"

"Sure, make some friends." she shrugged. "But also make allies. Don't let the King know that you're isolated. Trust me, there will come a time when you'll need of the others, and you can't always count on General Kirigan to save you."

Alina hadn't thought about it. So far, he had always been there, at the right place, at the right time. Maybe Genya was right, and she had unconsciously relied on him to have her back and catch her before she fell.

"How do I do that?"

Genya stuffed her face with some more cheese and chewed slowly. She shrugged.

"There are several ways. You can't just go to a group and ask them to back you up. Observe. Go one by one." Genya all but pushed Alina to take a big gulp of wine, her fingers firm underneath the bottle as she titled it up. The brunette drank. "Try to bide some time. Make them owe you favours. They don't really have to like you, but if they do, it's better. Have you seen how all of them thrive to be the General's favourite?"

Alina nodded slowly. Eyes had seemed to turn towards her when she first arrived, but since she had kept her non-progress a secret, and her and Kirigan were rarely seen together in public and she was never requested to his quarters, it seemed like the other grisha's eyes had quickly drifted from her. Like she wasn't so important after all.

"Make them want to be your favourite, Alina."

"I already have a favourite." she said with a playful wink, taking a cookie.

Genya shoved her gently.

"I know." she said, voice full of petulance. "But I don't mind you hiding it for a while."

Alina cleaned her fingers off the crumbs of the cookie, looking into the fire, pensive.

So, she needed friends. She had Marie and Nadia already, but it was true that the rest of the grisha didn't stand too close to her. Maybe it was because of how awful she was during Botkin's lessons, or because she refused to showcase her powers and they thought her a snob of some sort. Maybe they just didn't like her. She didn't like some of them either.

She leaned back, her eyes consumed by the crackling fire.

So, observe. That was something she could do. She'd watch them, see their customs, their likes and dislikes, and try to work with that.

Working to become The Darkling's favourite crossed her mind. He was only one person; and if she were to be his favourite, surely some would grow closer to her.

No. She shook her head. They would only come to her as a path to The Darkling himself. Or they would resent her for it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Genya slowly smiling.

"What?"

"That look you got on your face." she said, pointing a pale finger in her general direction. "You're already plotting. That's the same look The General and His Royal Imbecile get when they want to make some manoeuvre."

"I'm just, …pondering on what you said and how to do it."

"Good. And I'll help you where I can." Alina wanted to protest, knowing Genya already had so much on her plate, but the redhead shook her head. "Zip it, Starkov. I will. I'm very good at getting information."

"Oh, really?" she asked in fake mockery. She had no doubts of Genya's resourcefulness. She watched with a smile as the woman kept drinking without pause, and then let the now empty bottle fall on top of the carpet, a few drops ruining its beautiful colour.

"Yes. Now: braid my hair.”

Genya

The Tailor did her best not to cringe at Alina's attempted braids; she had done her best.

It was pleasant kind of strange, having a friend. Genya hadn't had one in a long time, since before the grisha discovered them and Kirigan placed her in the Grand Palace as his eyes and ears.

She had learnt much from him; she believed in his cause, and thus, she silently endured the life at the Grand Palace. It was only a small sacrifice for the sake of all grisha.

But friends? No. She had charmed people, made some allies and had plenty of people at her feet who owed her favours she would carefully collect. But she had never had a friend.

The other grisha saw her as a servant only. Even though she trained alongside them with Botkin on several occasions, even though she also endured Baghra's harsh lessons -those were brief, for Genya already had almost mastered her gift by the age of twelve- and she also wore a kefta. But it was white. And white was the colour of servitude.

Alina was the only grisha who seemed to seek her out for the sheer desire of her company; she sought her out to ramble on and on about how she was a fraud -Genya disagreed- and how behind of them all she was.

Genya liked that. She liked Alina. She always asked her how she was doing, how she was feeling, a big smile on her face and her expression open, ready to listen. There was much that Genya couldn't tell her, but she shared what she could, and to her surprise, Alina cared.

So, Genya said nothing when Alina decided she would tailor her and ended up looking like a clown. Well, not quite, but it was definitely a rookie's work. Genya smiled anyways, because Alina had done it for the fun of it, with the best intentions in mind, wanting nothing more than to have a good time with her.

Genya did her face too. Without her powers, and still, she was perfect.

They talked late into the night, of things Genya hadn't known could be talked about to such lengths without getting bored or being malicious. Hm. She supposed it depended on the person one talked to.

They settled on Alina's bed well past midnight, and she apologized for keeping her up so late.

"Oh, please. I'm the only one in this place who doesn't need a beauty sleep." She had said, flippant as she tossed her messy braid behind her shoulders.

They talked so more in the darkness. Suddenly, amongst the chatter and ramblings of her friend, Genya felt an all too familiar weight on her chest.

"I was thirteen." She said quickly, in one exhale of breath that left her shocked.

Although she couldn't see very well, she felt Alina turning on her side to look at her.

"I'll listen, if you want." Was all she said.

Saints bless her, Genya thought, tears in her eyes. She couldn't tell her everything, she didn't think she could stand it, but Alina had figured it out, so that made some of it easier.

"The king gave me odd looks ever since my first day at the palace, but I was thirteen when one night I was asked to go to his chambers." Her voice shook, much to her shame. She felt some ruffling among the sheets, and then a hand wrapping around hers. She squeezed it tightly. "I thought he might want me to do something about that chin of his, "she giggled bitterly. "I was frozen. I was as silent as the dead, and yet...I, I didn't fight back, not that first time. I just, " she made a motion with her hand, and wiped her cheeks. "I just laid there." She tried to steady her breath. "When he fell asleep, I got up. Everything hurt, and the blood had dried in my legs." She turned, barely making out Alina's teary eyes in the dim light that filtered through a window. "The guards escorted me back to my rooms. I kept crying, and one of them offered me a handkerchief. I'll never forget the looks of pity they gave me." She turned back, facing the fabric of the canopy above. "I never let them see me cry again. Ever."

She felt Alina scooting closer and placing both arms around her, and Genya returned her hug.

"It wasn't your fault." She said. Upon hearing those words, never spoken to her before, Genya couldn't help but sob. "He'll get what's coming to him."

Oh, she had no idea.

"Please don't tell anyone."

"Of course not." Alina hugged her tighter and ran a hand through the knots she had made in her perfect hair. "But I'm here; I'll always be here."

Genya's heart softened at that, and she closed her eyes, letting sleep take her in the safety of Alina's arms. Not the Sun Summoner. Not one of the most powerful grisha to ever exist. Nor the Saint; Ravka's only hope.

Just Alina.

Her friend.

When Genya woke up a few hours later, the sun was still in its slumber.

Her arms wrapped around Alina, the other woman had both of her hands wrapped around her forearms, half leaning on top of her.

She noticed the small, wet spot on the top of her nightgown. So Alina drooled in her sleep. Disgusting. Hilarious.

Carefully, Genya got up and got dressed, feeling lighter than before.

Without making a noise, she approached the bed and wrapped the blankets tightly around the summoner, placing a gentle kiss to her temple. She didn't even stir.

When Genya left the bedroom and headed down the stairs, she felt the weight upon her again, heavier, more solid, making her almost want to crumble right on the spot and cry until her throat was raw.

She didn't do that.

She held her head high and advanced with a purpose she didn't really feel on the inside.

The oprichniki at the doors allowed her passage without questioning, and she put one foot in front of the other down the long, dark corridor.

She knocked on a door, and after a moment was given permission to entry.

The Darkling sat behind a desk, an old book in a language she couldn't decipher in his hand. She wondered if he ever slept.

She bowed.

"Moi Soverennyi."

"Well, Miss Safin?"

She reached into her pocket and extracted a folded piece of paper.

"She said this was the last one."

"Did you read it?" He asked as he took it from her hands and opened it unceremoniously.

"I did, sir." She took in a deep breath. "I truly believe this is the end of the problem."

"Good." He replied, his eyes running over the name the letter was addressed at, fingers trailing over the nice handwriting. "You are dismissed."

"Moi Soverennyi." She bowed again and turned, ready to return to the Grand Palace. To real life.

"Miss Safin?"

She looked back, a hand on the door handle already.

"What is that on your wrist?"

She looked down to see the pale skin had turned a nasty red, a few pimples here and there. Smoothly, she ran her other hand over the area, watching as it went back to its previous perfection.

"Just a little experiment, sir. Nothing serious." She smiled.

He nodded slowly, his eyes, as usual, trying to solve a puzzle.

She couldn't tell him...for now.

"Very well. Do be careful, Miss Safin." He said, leaning back in his chair and began to read the letter. "I would hate to lose such unique soldier."

She smiled once more and left before the edges cracked.

Part IV here

#shadow and bone #alina starkov #the darkling #genya safin #shadow and bone fanfic #alina x aleksander #alina x darkling #therell be aleks content next chapter i promise #shadow and bone au fic

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demifiendrsa · 4 years

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Microsoft has announced that it has acquired ZeniMax Media, the parent company of Bethesda Softworks, for $7.5 billion.

Bethesda Softworks is the parent company of Bethesda Game Studios, id Software, ZeniMax Online Studios, Arkane Studios, MachineGames, Tango Gameworks, Alpha Dog Games, and Roundhouse Studios, and owns major franchises such as The Elder Scrolls, Fallout, Wolfenstein, DOOM, Dishonored, Prey, Quake, Starfield, and more.

Comments from each party:

Phil Spencer, Head of Xbox

Today is a special day, as we welcome some of the most accomplished studios in the games industry to Xbox. We are thrilled to announce Microsoft has entered into an agreement to acquire ZeniMax Media, parent company of Bethesda Softworks.

As one of the largest, most critically acclaimed, privately held game developers and publishers in the world, Bethesda is an incredibly talented group of 2,300 people worldwide who make up some of the most accomplished creative studios in our industry across Bethesda Softworks, Bethesda Game Studios, id Software, ZeniMax Online Studios, Arkane, MachineGames, Tango Gameworks, Alpha Dog, and Roundhouse Studios. These are the teams responsible for franchises like The Elder Scrolls, Fallout, Wolfenstein, DOOM, Dishonored, Prey, Quake, Starfield, and many more.

Bethesda’s games have always had a special place on Xbox and in the hearts of millions of gamers around the world. Our teams have a close and storied history working together, from the amazing first DOOM, and its id Tech engine, innovating games on PCs to Bethesda bringing their first console game to the original Xbox, the groundbreaking The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. Over the years I’ve had many deep conversations with the creative leaders at Bethesda on the future of gaming and we’ve long shared similar visions for the opportunities for creators and their games to reach more players in more ways.

Just as they took the bold first steps to bring The Elder Scrolls franchise to the original Xbox, Bethesda were early supporters of Xbox Game Pass, bringing their games to new audiences across devices and have been actively investing in new gaming technology like cloud streaming of games. We will be adding Bethesda’s iconic franchises to Xbox Game Pass for console and PC. One of the things that has me most excited is seeing the roadmap with Bethesda’s future games, some announced and many unannounced, to Xbox console and PC including Starfield, the highly anticipated, new space epic currently in development by Bethesda Game Studios.

Like us, Bethesda are passionate believers in building a diverse array of creative experiences, in exploring new game franchises, and in telling stories in bold ways. All of their great work will of course continue and grow and we look forward to empowering them with the resources and support of Microsoft to scale their creative visions to more players in new ways for you.

All of our work, and the foundation of our relationship with you, starts with a commitment to deliver a breadth of amazing games to discover and play on Xbox. Over the last few weeks, we’ve been excited to share more detail on important elements of a plan we’ve been building towards for years. A plan that is the fulfilment of a promise, to you the Xbox player, to deliver the most performant, immersive and compatible next-generation gaming experiences, and the freedom to play blockbuster games with your friends, anytime, anywhere. Today is a landmark step in our journey together and I’m incredibly energized by what this step means for Xbox.

Please join me in welcoming all of our friends at Bethesda to Team Xbox.

Pete Hines, Bethesda Softworks

Today we announced we’re joining the Microsoft family.

And if you haven’t had a chance to read what Phil Spencer and Todd Howard shared in their posts this morning, be sure to check them both out. When you work at a place as long as I’ve worked at Bethesda—just a month short of 21 years—you see some things. Chief amongst them is change. When I started, Bethesda was not much more than a handful of people. The team working on Morrowind fit in a couple of offices, and there were probably six or seven of us spread across everything else.

Bethesda Softworks, our parent company ZeniMax Media, and our many internal studios, now employ thousands of talented people working in publishing offices and development studios around the world. We’ve gone from one internal studio to many; from a focus on single-player fantasy RPGS to developing massive MMOs, first person shooters, and everything in between. The world, our industry, and our company has changed a lot in the 34 years since Bethesda Softworks was first founded. Today, it changed again. And I know that brings up questions.

But the key point is we’re still Bethesda. We’re still working on the same games we were yesterday, made by the same studios we’ve worked with for years, and those games will be published by us.

So why the change? Because it allows us to make even better games going forward. Microsoft is an incredible partner and offers access to resources that will make us a better publisher and developer. We believe that means better games for you to play. Simply put—we believe that change is an important part of getting better. We believe in pushing ourselves to be better. To innovate. To grow.

And, we have a long history of working with Microsoft. Our companies share many of the same basic principles. We believe in a culture that values passion, quality, collaboration, and innovation. When I think back to the first time we decided to shift from being a PC-only developer and make Morrowind for the original Xbox, it was a move that countless people said would never work…nobody on consoles wanted a game that big and complex. But Microsoft believed in us and so did you. And now RPGs of all shapes and sizes are hugely successful on consoles.

Yes, it’s a big change for us, but after taking a minute to absorb the magnitude of this acquisition, we’re going to continue doing what we know and love: making great games. We’re going to keep trying new things. We’re going to take the same passion we’ve poured into what we do, and the passion that our community brings to the things we make, and do even better.

And soon the conversation will move on from this deal to talking about our games again. And I can get back to answering the questions that get us all excited. Tell me more about Deathloop. When can I see more Ghostwire? What’s coming in Q4 for The Elder Scrolls Online? I want to see more of the DOOM Eternal DLC. WHEN THE HELL WILL YOU TELL ME ABOUT STARFIELD? I’m excited for those conversations and look forward to talking to you about all of that—and much, much more—-in the weeks, months, and years ahead.

I believe in the people I work with. I believe in the company we have created together. I believe in the communities that have formed around the games we make. And I believe today’s announcement is just the next in a long line of changes in our history that will lead to bigger and better games for all of us.

Pete Hines SVP, Global Marketing and Communications

Todd Howard, Bethesda Softworks

I have been incredibly blessed to spend my entire career at, and help build, one of the best places to make games in the world—Bethesda.

And I’ve had the joy of doing it with some of the most talented, humble, and passionate people there are. They are part of my family, and my good friends. I have also had the pleasure of working with, and partnering with, many of the best gaming and tech companies in the world. But our longest, and closest partner during my career, has been Microsoft.

Today we join them, and I wanted to share some personal thoughts on what it means and our shared vision.

The trajectory of Xbox, and the trajectory of Bethesda, in many ways have gone hand in hand.

From our beginning, we had primarily been a PC developer. In 1999, two things happened. One, Bethesda became part of a brand-new startup—ZeniMax Media. And Microsoft started development of their first video game console—the Xbox. I can remember my first trip to Redmond to discuss the new system and bringing our next game, Morrowind, to the Xbox.

I was dubious Xbox Morrowind would be worth the time, somewhat on a technical level, but more so from taking a hardcore RPG and moving it from a PC desktop experience to a controller-and-sofa experience. If we made it work, would people want it?

Microsoft and their new Xbox crew had a view, that I came to share completely. Shouldn’t we allow anyone to have this experience? Why does it matter where the screen is or what the controller is? There are many people without the same access, and we can bring it to them.

Morrowind would go on to become one of the best-selling Xbox games of all time, behind Halo, another PC style game some said wouldn’t work. Its success paved the way for the growth of our company, and proved the point – people wanted this experience, regardless of device.

Microsoft quickly let us in on their next system, the Xbox 360. More than a PC port, our aim with our next game, Oblivion, was to usher in the next generation of gaming. With each game, from Fallout 3 to Skyrim, our studio and company grew, adding brilliant and like-minded studios across the globe. All of us sharing in the belief that expanding the reach of gaming was fundamental, whether it was on a pc, console, your phone, or the cloud.

With each new console cycle, we evolved together. From bringing mods to consoles with Fallout 4, now over a billion downloads, to the latest technologies fueling Xbox Series X/S. These new systems are optimized for the vast worlds we love to create, with generational leaps not just in graphics, but CPU and data streaming as well. It’s led to our largest engine overhaul since Oblivion, with all new technologies powering our first new IP in 25 years, Starfield, as well as The Elder Scrolls VI.

Like our original partnership, this one is about more than one system or one screen. We share a deep belief in the fundamental power of games, in their ability to connect, empower, and bring joy. And a belief we should bring that to everyone—regardless of who you are, where you live, or what you play on. Regardless of the screen size, the controller, or your ability to even use one.

We can’t think of a better group of people to do that with than those at Xbox. We have friendships that go back to those original days. From Phil to his senior leaders to developer support, they don’t just talk about putting players first, they passionately live it.

At Bethesda, we’ve been lucky enough to create games we love, and have an audience who loves them as much as we do. I have personally been humbled by the many industry honors I have received, as they belong to the entire studio. But one has always stood out to me for a special reason. When I received the Lifetime Achievement Award at GDC, I joked in my acceptance “I wonder how many achievement points this one is worth?” At the end of the ceremony, some good friends from Microsoft congratulated me and said they’d find out. A few months later I was given a code to a game they had created, named after me and locked to my account. When ran, it unlocks a single achievement – “Lifetime – 1000pts.” It still sits in my list when I check, and I smile every time.

It has been a lifetime. But there’s more to come and achievements to unlock together. We hope you join us.

All the best, Todd

Todd Howard Bethesda Game Studios

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