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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months

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The Horror and The Wild (yan!Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) COD Fantasy AU

You decided to visit Konig's harem. Turns out, they like you as much as the emperor himself. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator

Word count: 3274 AO3

Your husband has a harem. It didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would – he is the emperor, after all. You’d be more concerned and surprised if he didn’t have an army of perfect women lust all over him – catering to his every whim, to every last one of his perverted desires. You read about kings having harems in books – you think that the king of your country had at least a dozen mistresses, although none of them were an official part of the court. Empire is a bit different in its customs – every territory in its big hold wanted to give the sole ruler their greatest treasure, so the politics could be ensured through maidenhood of their daughters. — Little empress is so shy…is this her first time with an angel?

A woman – you think her name was Stiletto, or something equally sharp – was holding you tightly, her breasts against yours, her hips straddling yours in hold that didn’t make you feel unpleasant. If anything, you loved it. Reminded you of the sessions you shared with the Princess. Something that had to be hidden far, far away. — I would r…I think we should discuss, ah, the further fate of the… She holds you close, her lips on your neck. You whimper, looking back only to see König in a relaxed pose, drinking something – you don’t think it was wine, way too golden for anything like this – out of the transparent, beautifully sculpted goblet. For some foolish reason, none of the women in his harem were particularly interested in him – but you counted at least four who already proposed to make your night better.

It made you feel ecstatic.

It made you feel shy. You came to the forbidden part of the palace, the one that almost no one is visiting – with the goal to drag at least a few of the servants by their hair, thinking that it would just ensure that you won’t be poisoned later. You came here expecting to be assassinated by some lovestruck princess – but you were kissed, held, and touched by many of them. Your legs already spread wide enough to reveal the edges of the thin laces of your undergarments, your emperor enjoying the show as the women of his harem made a blubbering mess out of you.

— Are my women not treating you well enough, little princess?

— Y…your Highness, this is… You whimper, feeling a soft hand on your breast. König was there too – his palm enveloping your chin, gently tilting it so he could kiss you, your face hidden by the fabric of his hood slowly lowering over you. His kisses are softer now, much warmer than they were before – maybe, finally stealing your virtue prompted him to be softer. Maybe, he knew you wouldn’t be running away or trying to kill yourself anymore – so he was able to share with you the softness he previously kept hidden. Maybe, he was always soft and you just never got to see it – but now you can’t help but stare at his softness, taking in every last inch of it. You feel like a fool, honestly.

There are beautiful women touching you, whispering sweet nothing to you. There is a beautiful man who is devoted to you completely – who burned down an entire castle and took your country just so he would be able to marry you. Yes, with all of these people – powerful, beautiful, angels and gods walking on this sinful earth, you still felt like a servant. Dirt under their boots – the indoctrination of your class is making it impossible to think of yourself as someone who is worthy of even the tiniest bit of praise.

You think about your princess – if she is alive or not. If she remembers your sacrifice or curses you for it. The news of your wedding should have spread far and wide, even with the little notice that König gave to the bordering kingdoms – and you wonder what would her reaction be. You are getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, You should know your place by now, all things considered.

König and the girls – you think one of them was the duchess, send here as a peace offering only to be held up in the lower harem, with the Emperor only seeing her for one time and then retreating back to his chambers – only let go of your when you started sniffling, an action so freakingly ugly for an empress. You should never show your true emotions – you knew this even from your years with the princess, with other servants being as cruel as devils while she wasn’t looking. Perhaps, you still haven’t outgrown this mentality.

— What’s wrong, meine Liebe?

— You’re disturbing the Empress, your highness.

— I am her husband!

— Maybe, this is why she is disturbed. Are you ignoring her needs too, Your Majesty?

— I will nit be ridiculed by my…

— Oh, but please, do proceed, our lord. The princess is crying already.

— You scared her!

— Maybe, she didn’t want to be married. You could send her to harem and make her like us… — And to have you, vile creatures, fuck her till she passes out? — At least we could show you pleasure. Maybe, she’s on edge because Your Highness was…

— I won’t be talking to you about it!

— Ah, but the Empresses’s distress is evident already, our lord. Do we need to cast a potion for your…

You feel their hands on you again, soft touches mixing with rough fingers caressing your face – your cheeks, your lips, passing into your mouth and making you suck for the tiniest bit of a second, leaving right when you started to feel uncomfortable. You feel loved, so thoroughly, by him and by them – and you don’t feel like you deserve to be.

You can’t find a real reason to talk to them – so you do your best to shut up, biting your lips that were smeared with makeup so thoroughly. You felt awful, you felt horrible, you felt like you were going to freaking burst because, by gods, there are so many people around you who deserve to be treated as kindly as possible, who deserve to be treated like equals – and yet, you still feel like a servant. Like a bought pet who was dragged to the house where no one wanted to see you and to hold you – and yet, there are so many people, longing to just… You sigh, curling up in a corner. Distasteful display from an empress – but you could worry about assassins and court intrigues the other day. You don’t have the strength to play in the games of these vile women anyway. Not that you would be able to even if you’d want.

— Meine Liebe, please, you must protect your dignity over those…

— I’m sorry.

— What?

Hands are gripping you tighter, suffocating. You shouldn’t mistake their devotion for kindness, their affection for liability. No matter your cries and pleads, they won’t let you go – and even the girls who looked the kindest, the ones who already got your dresses collected and your hair in elaborate constructions, with their soft hands running up and down your breasts, your hips, your rear – were nothing more but a pack of people who used to get what they wanted. And you shouldn’t think that your opinion would matter – but you could close your eyes and think about your country. Close your eyes and try to enjoy it if only for a little while.

— I’m not…not fitting as a queen.

One of the girls plummets on your lap, her hair spreading across the floor. You start to pet her out of pure instinct – and you can feel König’s hand in your hair, doing the same. Somehow, the tiniest act made you feel even more like a pet and less like a person with power. Maybe, because you never had power to begin with.

— Of course not. You’re an empress, not a… You gulp, worry still in your mind. You are surrounded by people who should look up at you – and yet, you feel like a pet, brought to them for amusement. Then it strikes you – then it falls down to your shoulders, heavier than the crown you never wanted to wear.

A consort empress – no power, no influence, just smile and wave to your people in a pathetic attempt to remind them that you exist. You exist, you exist, for their amusement, for your husband’s amusement, to make the crowd wild with promises of heirs, to make everyone forget what exactly you are doing here. That your job as an empress is to sit back and look pretty, hoping that it would be enough. That it needs to be enough.

— Am I? Seems more like a toy for everyone.

They laugh – they smile and push their hands on you again, surrounding you with swirls of touches and gentle pushes. Back and forth, back and forth. You feel like a fool falling for something as silly as this – being consumed by lust of not just your husband, but also the women who, by all means, are supposed to take you in and leave nothing behind. You were supposed to swirl around in cort intrigues, not in… A hand moves down your stomach, fluttering just above your labia. Dancing on the gentle skin, caressing in a tingling motion – you moan and spread your legs depsite yourself, despite the feeling of apathy slowly growing in your bones. Your body got so used to constant pleasure, it makes you crave it like the last whore in the whole empire. You aren’t sure who is touching you – but you know that König is nearby, his hand tilting your head to the side, so he could look. Enjoy the view – god, you must look like such a mess right now… — The consort is a toy for the whole Empire, Schatzen. You knew this when you agreed to marry me.

— You never asked my hand properly, Your Highness.

— Why would I need to, if I could just chop it off and bring it with me?

You gulp, thinking again – gods, your choice in marriage is as horrible as the legends say. Especially since there are no legends of him yet – his rise to power is too fast and too early – and since you never had a choice on the matter anyway. Since there is no way you could have escaped this.

— Would you like it, then? To kill me for spare parts?

He laughs, and the others followsuit. You feel weird – you don’t understand them, their reactions, you feel like your head is going to burst from all the emotions being contained deep inside. You take a deep breathe and think. Trying desperately not to seem insane. — This would be a waste of a perfectly fine princess.

— She’s an empress now, your highness.

— Oh, but she will be a princess to us, ja? They giggle – and you feel dragged to the other room, finally alone. Not as much as you linked to be – König is still there, his hands are keeping you in place firmly. Fingers playing with the edges of your outfit, you feel somewhat sated and drained already. Your maidenhood throbs between your legs, soaked and warm from the touches and nice words of the women of his harem – and you feel weird, knowing that he allowed this infidelity to happen on his watch. At least you knew he never touched a single one of these women, although they were gifted to him. At least you know that he is ready to throw you in for the wolves in order to satisfy you while he is away doing everything an evil ruler should.

He lets you sit on a chair, pulling you in his lap – an intimate position, the outline of his cock is poking at the outline of your rear even through the skirts of the dress you wore. He pushes his face in the crook of your neck and you feel the tingling sensation of his tongue outlining your skin. You don’t want him to make you even warmer, to play with you more than all of his harem did – but it’s a welcomed distraction. You still feel like an imposter who never deserved to even be here in the first place…

— You do realize that you not being a princess doesn’t matter, right, Schatzi?

He cocks your head to the side, making you look at him wide-eyed, surprised. You are pressed against his chest, your face dangerously close to his – you want to get as far away from him as possible, but he whispers in your neck like it’s a gospel. You’re inclined to listen.

You don’t answer – you just let him keep going because, in the end, this is what a good empress is supposed to do, you think. Sit tight and listen and listen and use all of the space in your head to get into theirs. You feel like a fool even trying to attempt this, but…you never listened to the stories about your husband before he came into your life – and now you’re fabulously undereducated on the matters of his life.

König’s hands are going up, into your cleavage – almost ripping your corset open and not caring for how expensive it was. He has a terrible habit of running every pretty thing he buys for you – and you bite your tongue as to no scold him for leaving your breasts out, the diamonds and ripped seams on full display. You feel like a fool, knowing just how inappropriate he is with you. And how you allow him to do it.

— I would never accept that stuck-up royal of yours as mine. As a part of the harem, maybe. To forget about her bloody existence.

You bite your lips, a scowl escaping your expression. You don’t want to act like this, but she was still your princess – whenever she is now, if not dead and forgotten even by her own people.

— Don’t…don’t speak of Her Majesty like this.

— What a loyal servant you are, meine Liebe. Why not put that loyalty to me?

— Do you also need help with wearing your own clothes and warming your jewels?

— Maybe. If I get to feel your hands on me each time you do it.

You feel your cheeks burning. Your teeth are clenching, your hands and gripping your skirt, almost ripping the delicate material to shreds. Oh no – you’re getting used to a rich life, not even caring for your own clothes and how expensive it would be to replace them. König kisses your forehead, laughing, and your entire face and neck are burning now – the expression of his affection always makes you embarrassed, even if this is, by far, the most innocent thing he did to you. Much more pure than…no, if you’d start thinking about it, the space between your thighs would be wet again – and you already established just how sinful it would be.

— You are making it look like I have to worry about every maid who swings her skirt around you.

— Hm. I don’t think that my maids are half as cute as you.

— So you went to steal maids from other countries?

He chuckles, holding your chin in an iron grasp. You can’t turn away and save your graces when he is taking his mask down, smiling like a cat who got the cream. Perhaps, he is just like a cat – a ginger one, arrogant and smug, with rare stubble grazing over your sensitive skin as he plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. He is hungry, devouring you with each stroke of his tongue – the literature made you think that those kinds of embraces should be gentle, slow. You know better now, of course.

— I knew I needed a wife. People won’t take lightly to their emperor being more and more involved with dark powers – I thought that maybe, having a people-pleasing empress would make a difference.

He pinches your nipples until they are nice and firm, almost bruising your soft breasts in his hands. He is trying to handle them gently, but he is unable to contain his excitement – and you feel your lower parts clenching around nothing, moisture collecting in your undergarments. König isn’t soft when he is handling you like this, the overwhelming pleasure is risking to make itself known to everyone – by gods, you are tired of always getting handled like this. Like just an afterthought in his perverted desires…but, perhaps, you are just that.

— It was stupid. I sent the first letter, then the second…and this entitled brat didn’t even bother to answer. I knew she wouldn’t – but it still stings.

You remember the letters. Remember the annoyed voice of your princess, as she told you to handle them – burn them, toss them away, rip them to shreds, and feed them to the birds passing by. Everyone knew that the emperor already had a harem, and your princess didn’t want to be a part of it – besides, the king already established no connections to the empire, even as it was creeping to his doorstep.

You also remember writing the answers. Polite ones, short ones – the types that wouldn’t involve you in a political ploy. Leaving the emperor without an answer would be even worse than proclaiming war – wounding a man’s pride is something, that your princess knew how to do well, and also a thing that you knew how to take care of. Always the one to clean up her messes.

— I knew it wasn’t her writing those answers. But I remember how they felt, in my hands. The smells of whatever fragrance you put, ja?

You also remember accidentally cutting yourself while writing one of the answers – ink mixing with blood on expensive paper, made you think twice instead of changing the paper piece to a new one. Perhaps, if you were truly smarter than that, you’d just toss it away. Unfortunately for you and the kingdom, you didn’t want to waste expensive, fragrant paper.

— So…you’re saying that…

— It’s your fault, Meine Liebe, really. I fell in love with you since the first word you have written for me. So why would you cry in front of me and my harem like that?

— You’re lowering yourself like this. Being on my level…not something fit for an emperor.

He laughs, his fingers returning to gently squeeze your nipples together – and then go high, to push your face in place again. König plants another kiss on your lips and dips, his tongue playing over one of your swollen nipples. You don’t want to think about how much your body will change when his seed is going to take – but you know it won’t be long, with how often he pushes himself between your legs, filling you up until you can’t walk anymore.

— You know nothing about me, do you, Schatz?

— Thought you wanted it that way.

— Public won’t take nice to a ruler like me. Not a drop of royal blood.

You don’t think you knew the stories about him. The rumors, maybe – calling him the bastard king, the one that killed the previous ruler of his country in a soldier’s uprising. It’s all being taken down now, with all the old rich families either getting wiped out or signing their loyalty to the new emperor. The books are being burned and written anew.

— We’re both servants, little princess. And I would never someone born into this uptight fucking family.

Hm. A bastard emperor and a fake princess.

You really were made for each other.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #emperor!konig #konig cod #konig x you #cod konig #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere x you

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knightsickness · 5 months

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saltburn thoughts full spoilers

felix pretending that he doesn’t realise the house is remarkable during the tour, part of the showing off is how casual it is - telling elsbeth to be normal about ollie even as felix also definitely does not treat him like an equal

my poor pitiable friend i get to dress and tote around and show the good life and he’ll be so so pathetically grateful it reminds me how great i am how great my life is. this is not conscious on felix’s part felix doesn’t really think

generous and magnanimous, most sympathetic lens taken advantage of but also amusing himself with a charity case. let me reconnect you with your addict mother ollie that’s a scene i should be there for

his and farleigh’s relationship started as this, and soured when farleigh stopped being happy with table scraps, or being a pity-pet - prouder than ollie, less willing to debase himself

felix has had other toys like this, symbiotic playing between him and venetia - he brings them home, doesn’t tell them not to fuck her, and she immediately tries to (paraphrasing but ‘venetia’s been draping herself everywhere hoping you’ll stumble on her’) knowing that he will entirely break off the friendship in disgust at how disrespectful it was to fuck his sister. this in the context of the strange sexualsocial play where felix his sister and his cousin all hang out naked in a field enough it’s an expectation for guests it seems reasonable ollie thought there were fewer sexual boundaries

nobody pays attention to venetia, her addiction and eating disorder are treated as mildly embarrassing but her parents won’t talk to her about it bc it would mean acknowledging there was a problem (seen in later can’t accept felix’s death trying to wake him up and get him warm even though farleigh and venetia clearly already see he’s dead, or not telling the police about farleigh having cocaine) and her hypersexuality and instigating are an arm of that

felix and ollie inherently unequal relationship, king and his favourite - unlike pamela, who appears interesting but fails to captivate them, ollie dedicates an immense amount of effort to keeping felix’s attention, to staying amusing and necessary

bathtub scene both prostrating himself to felix part of the eating him theme and a sexual violation echoed at his grave

party costumes - felix is an angel clearly supposed to evoke luhrman’s juliet (complete with death by poison) both his innocence and his imminent death. otherworldly almost dionysian figure he isn’t a touchable human guy he’s a god everyone appeases because he’s perfect. interesting that they don’t really show his body he’s just wings everybody else’s anguish is centred. not a move to demystify him they could have shown his corpse they could have shown him next to the vomit they don’t we never properly see the body

farleigh is bottom but removes the head to taunt ollie. foolish guy turned into an ass dealing with powers he doesn’t understand possible foreshadowing him as the guy ollie frames for giving felix coke (mule pun?)

sidebar love the scene where ollie tries to manipulate him and misunderstands his motivations farleigh’s such a bitter interesting guy and he was right about everything MY final girl

framed as in the wrong bc he’s contrasted to perfect felix, arguing w him, but is in the right - felix calls him more spoiled than they are, and he is spoiled, but gilded cage nowhere else to go and his parents don’t get anything felix is not reliable. he’s right to point out felix likes ollie more because he’s a less complicated easier to pity pet he’s right that ollie is fake and he’s right that the family don’t see the servants as people besides their charming butler (both clearly beneath them a kind of loyal dog and a class marker they enjoy having. complain he’s creepy but like can you imagine being wealthy enough to not only inherit a butler but to not like having a butler to find him annoying) and is hyperaware outside of the main family unit everyone else staying at saltburn is closer to servant status paid and fed to jester

ollie’s antlers clearly supposed to position him as the devil to felix’s angel but slightly obfuscated by also making him a deer - part of his pathological lying layers of deception, or idea of the pop-wendigo as cannibal as part of his i’m a vampire/you ate him up and licked the fucking plate relationship w the family

teddybear on felix’s coffin both superficially heartwrenching and on any second thought completely hollow - as if he was a little boy, and in a way he was, but it’s a strange gesture as if his parents were burying a much younger child. they don’t know he was poisoned they think he died of an overdose mixing cocaine and alcohol while hooking up with a girl

ollie fucking felix’s grave-dirt as an explicit parallel to ollie scraping on the ground to lick his cum out of a drain - the most touchable felix has ever been is as a body, in the ground, where ollie can cum into the dirt on top of him and it will be there forever. death as an equaliser final end to their king-favourite power differential

didn’t hate the ending but do think he should have only killed felix i think every subsequent death lessened the vicious hatelove obsession of felix’s death which removed the gloss from the house and makes all its ridiculous out of touch evil dreamworld inhabitants small and desperate their golden boy eldest is gone. tragic ridiculousness of putting the name felix river catton on a headstone

ideal ending to me still a subversion of farleigh’s cruel ‘this is the best thing to ever happen to you and when it’s over you’ll think about it forever but this is our life we’ll stay here we LIVE in saltburn’ (he’s more part of the family than anyone else but he’s still exilable - even he knows it isn’t really a we situation) in which ollie does leave and he leaves them all miserable in saltburn forever living with felix all over the walls a hundred portraits of him all clinging onto that last summer. he can forget but they live in saltburn

#saltburn #saltburn spoilers #oliver quick #felix catton #venetia catton #farleigh start

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boxofbonesfic · 9 months

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Title: Tonality [4]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: a little more story, a little more tension, a little mor everything! what do you guys always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics

The Nilfgaardian banner snaps in the sharp, salt-laden breeze, the dark fabric bearing the crest of its namesake. The bright yellow sun mirrors the one in the cloudless sky above the keep. From your room, you can see their approach long before they reach the gates, a thin vein of black weaving through the countryside like a snake. The garrison pauses only briefly in the city, winding through the crowded streets in their pitch colored armor like a long satin ribbon. You grimace at the sight of them, swallowing against the sourness you feel growing at the back of your throat.

You do not know why the sight of them fills you with a dark foreboding, a shadow that looms in the space behind your thoughts. Perhaps it is the knowledge that you are expected to greet the Nilfgaardian envoy alongside your mother, the king, and the prince that makes your stomach curdle.

“My Lady, should we not join their Majesties?” Kassandra’s voice draws you from your churning thoughts. “Her Highness would not be pleased if we were late.” You swallow the dry retort that your mother would not be pleased no matter what you did, and automatically feel guilt over the bitter thought. You grimace before nodding at Kassandra over your shoulder.

Nothing good will come of this. The feeling—no, the knowledge—is as familiar to you as your own name, appearing among your thoughts as if it had always been there. Only sorrow will come of this day.

“Are you alright, Your Grace?”

Your throat tight, you smile. “Y-yes.” I am grim without cause. You shake yourself, smoothing your hands down the stiff, unfamiliar dress. It’s new, gifted to you only this morning as your mother had informed you of her expectations.

“You’ll look lovely in this,” she had bade the servants to lay out the massive thing, a veritable ocean of fabric, with so many skirts and stays you find yourself amazed you can even move at all. You detest the restriction and corsetry of it all, fidgeting with a frustrated grimace as Kassandra opens the door. Your thoughts must be plain on your face, for she is quick to reassure you as you pass.

“You are a vision, Your Grace,” she says, hurrying to your side as she closes the heavy door behind you. Despite your displeasure, her words do comfort you, and you offer Kassandra a watery smile in thanks. “I daresay you shall be the envy of every Lady in attendance.”

You laugh dryly. “Even you?” Kassandra’s response is unexpected—she shakes her head, pressing her lips together into a thin, apologetic smile.

“No, my Lady.” She says softly. There is true pity in her eyes, which stings all the more. “Though there are many in His Majesty’s keep who would treat with the Gods themselves to take your place—and, exalted though it may be, I am not among them.” The words pass unspoken between you, true honesty masked only slightly by propriety. “I would not wish that for all the world.”

The throne room is as packed with bodies as it was at your mother’s coronation only a few scant weeks prior, servants weaving deftly in and out of the crowd. It parts easily for you, people scrambling out of your path as you make your way toward the throne. Geralt stands to the king’s left, and you feel the weight of his gaze upon you so heavily it is as though he has touched you with his hand.

“My King. I trust you are well this morning?” He heaves a heavy sigh at your question, massaging the graying hair at his temple.

“As well as can be expected, given the circumstances.” King Vesemir graces you with a tired smile. “But I am glad these worries are mine. Would that they fall on mine own shoulders and save yours.” Of these troubles, you know only what little you have managed to glean from casual conversation and your own observations—the Lord of Nilfgaard has sent his envoy, along with a garrison of troops, to treat with the king.

Your mother scoffs. “You are a King, my love,” she says, tilting her regal head at him. “You can do nothing without rousing at least a little of the rabble.”

You take your place next to her, skirting around the prince with a wide berth. Your mother reaches for your hand, patting it as she nods approvingly at you.

“You look as lovely as I thought you would.” Somehow, her complement makes you like your clothing even less. The dress is heavy and cumbersome, the corset laced so tight a deep breath makes the seams groan.

“It is the color.” Geralt’s interjection makes your mother’s smile thin and tighten, until the edges seem brittle like paper. “It suits you, sister.” Is there no line he will not cross? From behind his wide shield of plausible deniability he mocks you, his mouth quirking innocently as if he is unaware of the boundary he dances upon. Gracious acceptance is the only play you have, and he knows it as well.

“You are too kind, my Prince.” You clasp your hands together and face forward. It is surreal, almost, to see the calm with which he regards you now, when only a week ago he had raged at your door like a madman. Had you not seen it yourself, you would not think it possible. Though you would blame him for it, the nervous twisting of your stomach is not Geralt’s fault alone. The ill feeling that had taken root in your belly at the sight of the Nilfgaardian envoy still left you with a sour taste on your tongue, one that did not seem to wash away.

And the dreams…

You shudder to think of them, the dark, creeping things that keep you awake long after the halls of the king’s keep have fallen silent. You have not wandered from your rooms again to your knowledge, but you’ve slept so little in the past week that you suspect it is less a matter of your self control and more the lack of opportunity. The nails on your fingers, hidden by the cumbersomely long sleeves of your dress, are bitten down to the quick. It is a new habit you’ve developed sitting in the crushing dark as you wait for the dreams to come.

Your father’s rotting face swims before you again.

Sugar sweet—

You twist the heavy fabric of your sleeves in your nervous hands as you stare hard at the stone floor between your feet.

“What troubles you, Little Doe?” Geralt’s voice is as much of a surprise as his proximity, his side lightly pressing against your own as he leans down. You drop your hands to your sides like deadweight, suddenly aware of his eye.

“And why would you think me troubled?” You ask curtly. The prince’s wolfish grin sends a strange, hot pulse straight to your core, one you vehemently try to ignore. You are under no pretense, you know what the prince is, who he is. He has gone out of his way to show you, and yet—

“I am apt to know trouble when I see it.”

The throne room doors slam open, leaving you no time to respond as every eye is drawn to the entrance. The instant hush that falls over the room is so deep that the herald’s voice is like a crack of thunder. At the same time, your stomach tightens. The dark warning in your heart rings again like a bell, clear and true. Though you still do not quite grasp its meaning, the message is clear—whatever you’d been meant to avoid had now come to pass, leaving no room for escape or denial.

“Presenting His Lordship, Duke Emhyr of Nilfgaard!” The duke sweeps into the throne room, his ink-black cloak billowing behind him. There are two of his own guards flanking him in their telltale black armor, like pools of animated shadow. Their faces are hidden by their helms, the sides carved like griffin wings.

The duke stops before the throne, dropping down to one knee.

“My King.” His accented common turns the words up at the edges, almost like a question. “Hail.” His face is handsome but severe, high cheekbones, fierce, beady eyes, and a thin mouth that curls up at the corners, just like his words. There is a scar on his face, long and thin and jagged, stretching from his left temple to the right side of his chin. His already wan smile thins further as he turns to your mother.

“My Queen.”

“Lord Emhyr.” The duke’s smile is wan as he dips his head again. “I bid thee welcome. I trust you found the journey pleasant enough.” The words are empty pleasantries, merely frivolous formalities exchanged before the truth is allowed to be addressed.

“Aye, Majesty, as enjoyable as one can find a carriage journey.” He straightens back up. “I would extend my many congratulations on your union. The Gods themselves could not have delivered a more beautiful Queen.”

To your surprise, it is Geralt who speaks next.

“We did miss you at the celebration, my Lord.” The remark is meant to sound like a casual observation—you know it is not. “Quite a pity.”

Emhyr’s jaw tics. “Indeed.” He looks over his left shoulder, and motions the guards forward. “My deepest regrets. As I previously expressed to His Majesty, my presence was required elsewhere. As I am sure you recall, we do share a border with the Elves.” He spits the word like a curse. “Occasionally those savages do need a good reminding of where their lands end, and ours begin, Your Grace.”

You shudder. There are few elves left south of the heavily policed Nilfgaardian border, but you have met some. Savages. The word makes your lip curl. They are rather fond of that word, aren’t they?

“I did bring a—belated—wedding present.” Between the two of them, the guards haul forward a small black chest, the polished wood glinting in the light. He pulls back the lid, and a murmur travels through the gathered courtiers at the sight of the jewels. A small fortune in dark blue sapphires sits within. King Vesemir stands, bidding two of the ivory cloaked kings-guard forward to take the chest.

“A most precious gift.”

“The mines remain prosperous. Perhaps Her Highness might have them made into something befitting her loveliness.” A smile creases your mother’s ruby lips, but it is sharp enough to cut. Neither does it reach her narrowed eyes.

“We cannot thank you enough for your gracious gift, my Lord.” Her voice is delicate, like breaking glass. “But I do not believe you rode for six days to bear witness to my beauty.” You are left to wonder in the brief moments before Duke Emhyr answers. If he will allow the truth to be broached, or if he will flee from it like a rat from a burning ship.

“Indeed my Queen, I have not.” He casts a look around, as if the words he is about to speak are for everyone there, not just the king. “Your Grace, I come before you today with only the deepest respect for your will, authority, and wisdom.” Duke Emhyr chooses his words carefully. He chooses them as carefully as a mason did his stones, stacking each one meticulously on top of the other. “But I do admit my heart longs for clarity on this matter.

Not a season past, when His Majesty announced an end to his long mourning period, and indeed his intent to marry once more, I did put forth my own daughter as prospect.” His accusation takes shape, and you watch your mother’s face tighten, her fingers curling around the polished bone arm of her throne. “And before this very court, His Majesty agreed. I had imagined a shared future of prosperity and happiness between both our great houses. I mean no offense, and so I beg pardon—”

“And yet you have given it.” Your mother’s expression remains placid—her voice less so. You can almost hear the icy words forming on her tongue as her lips part to speak again, but the king silences her, holding up one steady hand.

“I appreciate your candor, my Lord,” he leans forward. “But it is Vesemir who rules here, not Emhyr.” All chatter ceases, and the chamber is as quiet as the crypt beneath it. “The decision as to who it is I marry is mine—and mine alone.” King Vesemir stands, descending the short set of steps until he is level with the duke. “It is I who bears the burden of ensuring the prosperity and stability of this realm. And while I am ever thankful for the service you have provided it… you would do well to remember that fact, my Lord.”

“Of course, my King. I—I mean only for the betterment of the empire.” It is then that his eye falls to you. “I see no reason a match might not still be made—”

“Then we shall speak no more about it.” You watch the duke’s jaw tighten, his lips thinning as he fights not to show his displeasure.

“As you will, Your Grace.” You have not heard the last of this matter, of that you are certain. A sinking feeling rises in your stomach, like you’ve tumbled freely over the edge of a cliff. There is no going back, the feeling seems to whisper, goosebumps erupting across your flesh. A path has been chosen now and you will walk it—

“I thank you again for your generous gift, Lord Emhyr,” the dismissal is obvious in the king’s tone.

“The pleasure is mine, my liege.” The words sound broken in his mouth, like he’s chewed them up. A cold finger traces down your spine as his eyes meet yours again. “I thank you for your counsel.”

—

The sky is dark, angry black clouds roiling above the keep. You’ve not seen much rainfall in Rivia since your arrival, but today the clouds above you seem full to bursting, the smell of the imminent downpour filling your nostrils. Still, you take your time as you stroll through the gardens, stopping every so often to enjoy the sight of flowers in bloom.

“You are enjoying the gardens today, my Lady,” Kassandra’s observance is gently made, though she looks worriedly up at the sky.

“I feel I must,” you reply, leaning down to inspect a half-closed bud. “Summer here is drawing to a close, and I must admit I fear the cold.” You offer her a small smile over your shoulder.

“Have you no winter in Redania?” She asks, wonder coloring her words. “The land of eternal summer indeed.”

“No snow,” you agree, shaking your head. “Tis more like… autumn.” There is a wistfulness to your words you cannot suppress, a longing that brings moisture to your eyes. In truth, you doubt it will matter how many years you spend here at court—Rivia will never feel like home. Kassandra smiles thoughtfully.

“I should like to see it, my Lady,” she says. “Twould not be a chore to accompany you—if you wished it so. The winter here is harsh, even within the city walls.”

“Aye, winter on the continent is no easy task to weather.” The two of you turn at the sound of a new voice to face the speaker. Duke Emhyr bows respectfully, removing his cap as he does so. “I did not mean to intrude—I find the gardens less familiar than I imagined,” he adds, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Might I trouble you for an escort?”

You had not seen the duke since his spectacle at court the day prior, the matter of which had the courtiers aflutter with gossip. You suppose you, like Duke Emhyr, had been equally blindsided in the matter of your mother’s courtship and her subsequent marriage. Nervously, you wonder if his feelings of dissatisfaction—and possible animosity—extend to you by proxy. Kassandra curtsies, and you nod, forcing a small, charitable smile onto your lips.

“O-of course, my Lord.” You reply. “I myself find the task of navigating the keep daunting, despite calling this place home.” Kassandra falls into step just behind you, and you must physically stop yourself from commanding her to walk beside you. Though you’ve little personal regard for the importance of blood and titles, you know here in Rivia those things matter above all else. The duke is more than happy to ignore her, his hawkish eyes weighing heavily on you.

“How long has it been since your arrival at the White Keep, if you will indulge my curiosity?”

“Nearly three months.” Though you have kept count of every passing day since your arrival, to say it aloud makes homesickness rear up in your chest. The duke clucks his tongue pityingly.

“Tis a shame. Redania is quite beautiful this time of year. I have had the pleasure of many a visit.” He clasps his hands behind his back and casts a look at the dreary sky. “Nilfgaard is my home, but I would be a liar if I said I did not envy the beauty of the southern jewel.” The wistfulness in his voice inspires thoughts of warm autumn nights scented with pine and faded sunlight. But a warning echoes in your heart at the false note in it, the one that reminds you of the coy, prying questions of your mother’s ladies in waiting, only cloaked in a cleverer disguise.

“Indeed.” You round the corner of a hedge. “I have never seen snow, now that I think of it. I should much like to, now that I am older.”

“Never seen snow?” The duke echoes your words, replacing your simple desire with shock. “Though I would not speak ill of your late father—Redania has never seen a finer Regent—I do believe he kept you far too sheltered.” It takes effort to keep your smile from going thin at the mention of your father. As if in response, a dull ache throbs in your chest.

“How lucky for us, then, that his death should bring me here.” You flick the words from your tongue like the lashing of a whip. There is a brief moment of dark satisfaction as the duke’s eyes widen, and his confident words falter.

“My sincerest apologies, Princess, I did not mean—”

“No, of course not.” You reply, swallowing against the sudden lump in your throat. “Forgive me, Duke Emhyr. My father I are—were, quite close.” You offer him an apologetic smile. “Might we speak of something else?”

“Of course, of course. My deepest sympathies.” He casts a furtive glance in your direction. “I hope you have been enjoying your time here, despite the… unfortunate circumstances.” You nod primly—for what words do you have to describe the aching emptiness that fills you at the thought that home is a distant thing now, the memory of a place you no longer belong.

“I have found ways to occupy myself.” You feel as thin as your smile. “The White Keep is large, there are many ways to spend ones time.”

“And Her Majesty has certainly taken to her role,” he continues. “She has taken to court as though she were born here.” There is a note of bitterness in his voice. “Has she spent much time in Rivia? Surely during His Majesty’s rather short courtship—”

“I know little of my mother’s courtship,” you say flatly, your eyes narrowed. “If you wish to know about it, perhaps you should ask her.” This time, it is difficult to leash your ire. You grow tired of the duke’s probing, his thinly veiled attempts to pick information from conversation behind the shield of feigned ignorance.

“Highness—”

“I trust you will can your way from here.” There is an unfamiliar coldness that underscores your words, one that uncomfortably reminds you of your mother. It is like hearing her own voice from your mouth, leaving a sour taste on your tongue. “Lady Kassandra, l believe we should take our leave.”

“At once, My Lady.”

You leave him at the entrance to the gardens in the courtyard, sweeping past as his eyes bore into your back.

—

“How does it end?” You are sat before the fire, a book held tenuously in your hands. Your loose, traditional dress is folded beneath you primly as the flames dance in the hearth. “How does it end?” Your father repeats warmly, chuckling as he leans forward to rest a hand on your shoulder. “You stopped reading.”

You can’t quite recall where you were now, the words seeming to shift on the page as you squint at them.

“I… I don’t remember now,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at your father. Though the flames are bright, his face is shadowed, but you get the feeling that he is smiling.

“The princess has just met the wolf,” he replies. “She doesn’t know it yet, but he plans to devour her whole—body, and spirit.” You look down at the page. “She is careful, the princess, and clever, but the wolf is sly, and he is not the only thing she has to fear.” You do not know why, but his words fill you with an incomparable sorrow.

“What else does she have to fear? Is the wolf not enemy enough?” You are crying. You don’t know why, but you are, tears pouring down your face and dripping messily off of your chin to stain the pages with salt.

“Weep not, daughter. She may yet avoid his jaws—and if not that, then perhaps she might at least turn him to her will. But the peacock—she is her true enemy.”

“A bird?”

“Yes, dear girl,” your father’s voice goes strangely quiet as the fire burns low in the hearth, and the sitting room is shrouded in gloom. “For while her pretty feathers distract you, her beak plucks out your eyes.”

You wake blearily, blinking in the darkness as you struggle back to wakefulness. Instead of your bed, you are knelt on the cold, stone floor in front of the half-dead hearth. The embers that still smolder within are not enough to give off true heat, and pins shoot through your legs when you struggle to your feet. It is frigid in here, and you shiver, clutching your thin nightgown tightly around yourself.

You’ve no memory of leaving your bed, nor of kneeling in front of the hearth, and you sniffle as you make your way back beneath the canopy above your bed. There is a familiar ache in your tight throat that feels like you’ve been crying, and when you lift a shaking hand to your cheek.

Your face is wet with tears.

—

Your mother strokes your head as you sob, your tears soaking into her gown.

“I—I fear sleep, I fear waking,” you rasp, wiping at your sore eyes with the back of one trembling hand. “T-there is no respite from them. I close my eyes in one place and open them in another—” A hiccoughing sob cuts the words in half. “Mother I fear I… I fear I shall go mad if I see father again. His face—!” You bury your head in her lap as another round of shuddering sobs wracks your limp body.

It has been years since you have sought your mother’s comfort like this, and in truth you cannot remember the last time it was even offered. She had been surprised to see you at her chamber door at this hour, disheveled and still clad in your nightgown, but she had let you in after you’d tearfully recounted the contents of your dreams.

She strokes your head. “Nightmares, my love. Nothing but terrors spun up by your mind—brought on from stress, no doubt.” Her hand is cool and comforting against your forehead. “I shall have the healer assemble something for you.”

“T-thank you, mother.” You offer her a watery smile.

“Anything for you, my love.” She strokes your cheek affectionately, the bandage wrapped around her index finger rough against your skin. “I do so hate to hear of your suffering, I will do what I can to appease it.” You smile wider, even as you swallow back the inappropriately bitter feeling that says you have been suffering all this time regardless. This was the response you had desired from her all those weeks ago when you’d begged her to send you home—and now, for some reason, it feels… hollow.

“What happened to your finger?” You ask, and she sighs, waving her hand dismissively.

“A hairpin, nothing to worry yourself over.” You dry your eyes, dabbing at them with a handkerchief. Your mother barely acknowledges the timid knock at the door before the chambermaid pokes her head inside.

“Highness? H-His Majesty is here.”

Your mother does not look surprised to hear this. If anything, the corners of her mouth curl up into a sly smile for half an instant before she nods.

“I see. I shall see to him in a moment—” The maid squeals as the King himself pushes past her, his eyes wild.

“Thayet!” He calls your mother’s name with a hoarse, desperate voice. “I have waited over an hour for you—oh.” He seems to note your presence with all of the recognition one would give a fly. His bright, golden eyes are cloudy with confusion—as though he hasn’t the faintest idea who you are, or why you are there. Recognition finally lights in his eyes, and he nods at you.

“Princess. It is… quite late,” he says slowly, as if he is only now realizing that fact himself. “Should you not be abed?” Your face heats with embarrassment.

“Ah, y-yes, my King. I was… troubled.” Your eyes dart between him and your mother. “But mother has allayed my fears.” You gather your shawl about your shoulders, bowing your head respectfully. Of course he would visit her as a husband—that is a fact you suppose you have known since you came to this place, but to catch the King in your mother’s bedchamber was another thing entirely.

The eagerness in his eyes as he looks at her, the way he licks his lips—it reminds you uncomfortably of Geralt, and of the need you see mirrored in his amber eyes. You retreat from the sitting room, though the sound of your mother’s voice makes you glance over your shoulder one last time as the door begins to close.

“I shall send Callista with a sleeping draught,” your mother calls at your retreating back. “For the dreams.”

Your stomach turns uncomfortably as you watch the king latches onto your mother, pulling her close as he trails desperate kisses down her arm. You are too far away to hear the words he growls through his gritted teeth before ripping at the bandage on her thumb and sucking the injured digit into his mouth.

The door closes with a loud bang, leaving you alone in the dark, empty hall.

The peacock, your father whispers in your memory as you shuffle back toward your room in the early hours.

She’ll pluck out your eyes.

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x you #geralt of rivia smut #geralt smut #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt x y/n #dark fantasy #dark!fic #darkfic #boxofbonesfic #tonality fic

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kaeyats · 2 years

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Can we see the Liyue characters reaction to the marriage rumor 👀 I can absolutely imagine Ninguang going all out while Xiao has no idea what to do but knows he should do something to catch your attention. All the while poor poor Zhongli is suddenly regretting not having access to the same luxuries he had as an archon so he could spoil you

SAGAU,, the creator's bride/groom (part 2)

a/n: was actually in the process of writing this, but i was so happy to get some interaction from my genshin blog. this is my very first ask, ackk! i got so excited i wrote everything down in one sitting. thank you so much for the ask!!

a rumor that the almighty creator of teyvat is in the process of choosing a spouse spreads like wildfire. and all their acolytes start sucking up to them like insane. liyue edition! mondstadt edition here.

reader's gender is not specified, as with most of my works. requests and imagines in my ask box are appreciated, but will take a while. :D

warnings: none

way before whispers of the creator's newest affairs were heard in mondstadt, way before those very words that caused a ferocious storm even reached the ears of the anemo archon, the rumors of the creator's supposed interest in marriage had already been quite rampant in liyue. trending was an understatement, not when every tongue within the lands of geo had spoken about their god's affairs regarding engagement and such.

everyone in liyue was buzzing when they heard the news. some feeling quite happy for the creator and some gearing up for the absolute war that would come the next few days. after all, the creator was currently staying in liyue harbor which practically screamed "OPPORTUNITY" for anyone in liyue who was interested.

safe to say, a certain former archon ended up choking on his food when he heard the news from the director of the wangsheng funeral parlor. zhongli didn't know if he was dreaming or not, the recent rumors too similar to one of his many fantasies with you. the only thing he needed now was for you to bust into the funeral parlor and propose to him, then he'd be fully convinced he was dreaming. but alas, no creator had appeared and no busting in had occured. and seconds later, his mind foggily returned to reality. he processed the information, at least he tried to, unable to grasp much for the next few minutes. immediately, he stood up, heading towards the direction of the hotel you were staying in. hu tao was a bit confused when the usually-composed-man left the room and said nothing, looking rather dazed. he originally intended to ask you if the rumors were true, wanting to take a rational approach, but the sight of all your acolytes clinging to you in a pathetic attempt to win you over had his head empty with jealousy. he was all too tempted to take the form of morax and persuade you with his endless and very valuable resources.

ningguang knew before most common folk, a characteristic move for the opportunistic businesswoman who had connections in almost every street of liyue. however, she did not expect your other followers to know as well when she descended from the jade palace to pay you a visit. behind her were many of her servants, carrying boxes decorated with intricate golden designs. it was quite obvious that whatever was inside each of those boxes cost quite a lot. the boxes themselves looked like they cost more than any of liyue's merchants' organs. however, they were barely acknowledged by you when the 11th harbinger stole you away once again, distracting you from ningguang's elegant presence with his mindless chatter.

the moment childe heard of your supposed interest in marriage, he decided then and there to make it his mission to bother you until your other suitors would eventually fend off. at first, it was questions about your interests and things you liked. he kept a mental list of all he learned that day, disappointed in himself for not knowing any sooner due to how busy he was all the time. the job of a fatui harbinger wasn't the easiest, after all. he considered the possibility that maybe if he got married to you, his service to the tsaritsa would be allowed an end and he could spend the rest of his years exploring the world by your side. he was quite content with listening to your ramblings and daydreaming about what it'd be like to be your lover, even more so your spouse. the moment the tianquan entered your room though, childe decided he would be a menace, wanting to push the rich woman's buttons until she would eventually give up on pursuing you.

ningguang was usually a very patient woman, but something about the ginger irked her in all the wrong ways. she couldn't handle the way he blatantly flirted with you, leaving subtle touches on your body. she could only glare at his hand as she took quiet sips of her tea from across where the two of you were seated. ningguang internally praised you for being such a kind and understanding god because if she was in your place, she would've smacked the fatui harbinger away by now. it was like she wasn't even in the room anymore with how much childe had been hogging you. she couldn't begin to imagine the pain of zhongli whose presence you haven't even noticed yet.

matters were only made worse by the fact that ganyu, someone ningguang thought she would never view as a rival entered your room without knocking, a faint blush on her cheeks. "[name], i happened to stumble into your favorite flowers and thought that maybe-" instead of your happy and accommodating smile, she was greeted with the three harshest glares she had ever encountered in her whole life. ganyu had heard of the rumors, yes, but she wasn't one to believe rumors so easily, so she paid them no mind unlike the three other figures in your room.

"oh, ganyu! what brings you here?" you left your place next to childe (an action that warranted a rather bitter look on his face), giddily wrapping your arms around ganyu to greet her. it seemed that she was much too flustered to answer your question and had completely forgotten how to form coherent words when you wrapped your arms around her. not that you minded. her facial expressions were quite funny to watch.

"ganyu, it's a pleasant surprise meeting you here. although i must say, it's quite rude how you just barged in here and called the creator by the first name. i'm sure you have better manners than that." ningguang spoke from her seat, directing her gaze away from you and ganyu, knowing that she would only get angrier by the second if she did. venom, rather poorly hidden, dripped from her words and it seemed to intimidate the poor girl next to you.

"no! no! it's fine, i told ganyu she could do that."

"barge into your room? or call you by your name?" childe asked from his seat, sounding sarcastic, but truthfully unable to stop himself from wondering.

"both. also, i've been asking all of you call me by my name, it just so happens that ganyu was the first to listen."

zhongli seemed to have more luck the next day when he happened to run into you in the streets of liyue harbor early in the morning.

"oh? [name]? i didn't expect to see you here so early in the morning." just uttering your name felt like violating a forbidden taboo to zhongli. but after yesterday's encounter, he thought that maybe you truly did like to be called by your name and you weren't just saying things as a test of respect.

"oh! xiao went to my room last night and invited me to a picnic near wangshu inn. i just thought it'd be more convenient if i started traveling there earlier, you know?"

"that sounds (unacceptable, he wanted to say. how could your other acolytes just let you wander alone?) a bit unsafe, your- [name]. if you don't mind, i can assist you to wangshu inn to reassure that you arrive there in one piece."

you would've refused zhongli's offer in any other scenario, but after practically ignoring his existence yesterday, you accepted as a way to apologize. perhaps you could ease his mind with a little bit of conversation. surely that would be enough to pay for your mistake yesterday.

now, xiao had absolutely no idea how courting worked. he tried going around the inn, looking for books, anything, that could assist him with the topic. perhaps you would like dead offerings? should he got hunting for wild animals? or would you rather he seduce you with his body like in those e-ro-ti-ka books he found somewhere around the inn? he felt defeated, not knowing what to do once you arrived for your little picnic date. things would've been much easier had he had rex lapis as a guide and an advisor, he thought to himself, so imagine his surprise once he spotted rex lapis' mortal form walking with you towards him.

zhongli was certainly planning on sabotaging your supposed friend date with xiao, scheming in his head how he would steal you away from the adeptus, using those moments to win you over. and when you two spent a few hours in pleasant conversation, walking side-by-side, ever so often smiling at each other and giddily laughing, he was pretty sure he was going to go through with his plan, despite the initial guilt he felt for sabotaging a close friend. however, when he saw the way xiao's cheeks grew ever-so-pink at the way you hugged him the moment you saw him and the way a smile threatened to break through the usually-stoic-man's facade, he decided to leave you two alone to bond, letting xiao have his moment with you.

zhongli sat quietly in wangshu inn's restaurant, plates empty as he wondered what you and xiao were up to at that very moment. the good food lessened the sting he felt, jealousy clawing at his insides. he shouldn't regret his decision, he told himself. not when alatus looked so elated to be around you. he nodded to himself, yes, this is the right thing to do.

looking down at his empty plate, that is when he realized he has no mora with him.

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nymphiria · 2 years

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♱ ∿ SCARA BOSS MAKES MY HEAD SPIN

☰ cw: yes we fuck the robot. fem!reader, monsterfucking?, dubcon, humping, power imbalance, mean dom!scara, some degradation, fear play

THE BALLADEER knows how tiny he makes you feel under the gaze of his divine form. it’s normal, he says, for a human like you to feel intimidated by the mechanical body that encases his once smaller frame. his power to you was always a mystery, an unknown ability that has never been tangible. but now? scaramouche radiates divinity and authority — power oozes from every facet of his being.

it’s enthralling being in his presence, the very same one that you never thought yourself interested in before your venture to sumeru. your purpose was to merely accompany him and the doctor for plans unbeknownst to you. what a shock it was to see your superior, your lord, metamorphosing into a god made by human hands. years of being at his service and yet only now do you feel that he truly commands respect — the kind of respect that puts the feeble on their knees and the strong in their graves.

“does it frighten you? staring at the embodiment of godliness?”

you feel like a small mouse as you sit in the palm of his enormous mechanical hand. the once familiar voice of your lord is now distorted, almost monstrous as he prods you with his questions. he must’ve seen how your legs were shaking as you first took in what would soon be his new vessel. he likes seeing you tremble, the adrenaline makes his head spin as he soaks up your reaction. scaramouche was never one for blatant teasing, instead settling for routine chastising of your work effort. perhaps he’ll make an exception to his character just this once.

“my lord, p-please i implore you to put me back to the floor. i am not one for heights,” you tearily plead your case hoping for leave. if you stayed in his presence any longer you might just faint. being so high up and under the scrutiny of a harbinger are not a good combination for consciousness.

how dare you.

he gives you the opportunity and honor of witnessing him before his ascension and this is how you repay him? with excuses and disrespect? that wouldn’t do. you seem to have forgotten your position under him, your role as his servant. respect and praise are what he should be receiving from you, but instead he’s only been given the disposition of a mouse escaping a feline.

now, that’s no way to treat your god now is it?

cold. he’s so cold. the palm you rest on is already freezing enough, another is just cruelty. but that’s all the balladeer is: cruel. he flaunts it like a wealthy woman would with her new set of jewelry. traitors to the fatui receive it on a massive scale compared to the rotten attitude he gives you for small mistakes. you thank celestia sometimes for sparing you from most of his wrath and pray that it stays that way.

celestia never listens.

the icy robotic fingers glide across your skin; the clothing you once wore now reduced to nothing on the ground far below you. it’s impressive, really, how he hasn’t crushed you under the weight of the metal appendages he’s fondling you with. it just serves to remind you that if he wanted to, he could very well end your life. but he chooses not to. he’s choosing to be gentle with you. maybe he cares about hurting you? or maybe he just doesn’t want to hire another lackey to pick up the papers he throws off of his desk in a rage. you can’t tell which you would prefer more.

as frightening as the situation is, it’s feels… good. the cold material sends shockwaves up your spine each time it makes contact with your bare pussy. each time the metal rubs against your clit, your back arches unwillingly at the pleasure. it’s unknown how many times you’ve cum against his fingers and soaked them with your juices but it’s far too many to be decent. he just doesn’t stop. no matter how much you beg and plead, he won’t let up it til he’s had his fill of you.

is he getting off on this? you can’t see his face so it’s hard to tell. chances are, though, he’s wearing that signature sinister grin that he’s oh-so known for. he hasn’t said much since he shredded your clothing and pressed you onto your back. you pray that he lets you go soon — maybe you’ll pray even harder for your poor legs to work after this.

“that’s more like it. beg for me, beg for the pleasure of your god. if you’re good enough, maybe i’ll extend my mercy to you and keep you as a pet.”

#꒰১ ˖° ∿ fics!#ᨳ scaramouche!#scaramouche smut #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche thirst #genshin x reader #genshin smut #scaramouche #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin thirst #genshin impact x reader #fatui smut

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slavonicrhapsody · 2 months

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hey, i was wondering if you had an opinion on why the carian children’s alliance fell apart during the shattering. between rykard having invented the abductor virgins that both ranni and radahn employ, and jerren stating that iji forged weapons for radahn’s army (if you talk to him about iji before the radahn festival while working for ranni), it seems the carians were helping each other out at the start. i have a few theories already, but i love your elden ring meta

first of all thank you!!

yeah I have a lot of thoughts about this. I think it ultimately comes down to the fact that their personal goals are entirely different and really don’t have anything to do with each other.

Radahn seems the most disconnected of the siblings in terms of his actions — judging by what we know, it doesn’t seem like a total upheaval of the current order was a priority for him as it was for his siblings. His specific motivations remain pretty opaque, but I believe, based on his obsession with Godfrey and all the references to honor and combat, that at his core he made the choices he did in order to prove his own strength and heroism.

I suspect this is why his halting of the stars hindered Ranni’s plans — he was never acting with her interests in mind. I doubt he was intentionally sabotaging her though, because there is no evidence of he and Ranni ever feuding. I’ve said this before, but the idea that Radahn’s halting of the stars is specifically holding Ranni back is a total afterthought to Iji… if Ranni were convinced Radahn bore her ill-will, killing him wouldve been her team’s objective years ago. Plus, Iji and Jerren are still amicable as you said. I think the situation is simply that, as Iji says, he and Jerren serve different masters with different priorities. The same goes for Radahn’s relationship with Rykard — I believe it’s implied Rykard tried to protect Radahn, but I don’t think this protection necessarily meant the two were working towards the same goals.

Rykard and Ranni are more complicated… I believe the Blasphemous Claw description implies that before the Night of the Black Knives, the two talked of a wider plan to “trespass” against the current world order: “Should the coming trespass one day transpire, they would serve as a last-resort foil, allowing Rykard to challenge Maliketh the Black Blade, the black beast of Destined Death.” Since there is evidence that these two did share plans with each other, it’s significant that they don’t really have anything to do with each other anymore.

I think this is due to the fact that though their goals were the same on paper — remove and usurp the current world order — their motivations and personalities are quite different.

Ranni is motivated by a desire to rid the world of godly influence because, as I believe, she owes her life’s misery to the gods’ meddling. She has no interest in ruling the Lands Between as a god-queen; rather, she intends for herself and her order to be “at great remove” from the goings on of the world. As god, she will be completely non-present.

Rykard very specifically does want to rule. He had great ambitions; his followers planned to serve him as their “worthy sovereign.” He despises being treated as a servant under the gods and having to fight for “miserly scraps” of power… he dedicated his life to destroying an order he believes is “suffocating,” asserting his own strength and authority in retaliation, operating under the philosophy of “the strong take.” At his core, Rykard’s goal was always the acquisition of power for his own benefit… and I believe this is why he ended up entangled with the Great Serpent, devouring and growing eternally, never satisfied… a caricature of greed and gluttony. Rykard’s personal goals essentially have nothing to do with Ranni’s far-reaching plans for a new order, and I think that’s why the two ended up on very different paths instead of working together.

I also think it’s interesting that Ranni and Rykard go about their plans in very different ways: Ranni prefers to work in the shadows and strike when the moment is right, keeping a cool head and a clear mind, trying to stay detached. She is said to have “cast aside” her great rune, probably because she distrusted its “mad taint.” Rykard on the other hand is rash and volatile, carrying out his treason in spectacularly public fashion. He is ruled by his ambition and hubris, clinging to the power afforded to him by his great rune.

In conclusion I don’t think there was ever a chance of the siblings all being on the same page — they’re each too different from one another with their own lofty goals and priorities, despite the love they might have for each other.

#elden ring #radahn #rykard #ranni #asks #its evident in the game that the three had genuine love for one another #and there are numerous examples of small gestures of affection or collaboration or a desire to keep each other safe #but alas this didnt seem to have extended to a genuine coordinated effort between the three of them

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victimsofyaoipoll · 10 months

Text

Round 1

Propaganda Under Cut

Alana Bloom

she kissed will graham in s1 and dated hannibal in s2 so you can imagine how bad the fandom is to her. fun fact she's in a canon lesbian relationship now tho <3

The show literally does the yaoi treatment of victimisation for the benefit of the male leads to her. And then the fandom mistreats her

I'm not sure if this even counts but...Literally a victim of Yaoi along with several other characters in-series, but she got it almost the worst. The entire show is just people dying because the two male leads are OBSESSED with each other and can't be normal about anything. Alana Bloom, actual PhD of psychology and consultant to the FBI, got kissed by one guy, fucked and fed people-meant by the other, and pushed out a window by the murder husbands' forced-surrogate daughter. Like. Actual victim of several crimes caused by yaoi. She's probably one of the few examples of a Yaoi Victim overcoming and evolving past her yaoi-related trauma into a stronger person/character, though: She gets an entire character overhaul and a hot, millionairess for a wife. She kills a man with an eel. She becomes head of the BSHCI, effectively putting her in complete power over her jackass cannibal ex-bf. She does quite well. Unfortunately, the rest of her screen time is spent trying not to get killed in the ongoing fallout of Hannibal and Will's fucked up courtship, but hey. Can't have everything. I don't even know if I'm saying anything valid here: the fandom loves her, but I supposed her position outside of the Hannigram relationship relegates her to a non-subject in a lot of Hannigram-focused fanwork. She's an 'obstacle' to their relationship only in the sense that Will had a crush on her once that went nowhere and Hannibal started an actual relationship with her SPECIFICALLY to piss off Will. I guess she's also a more literal obstacle as Hannibal's jailer and Will's friend who's constantly pointing out to him that Morals exist and he should try having some of those, maybe.

Gwen

She stands in the way of Merthur, by far the most popular ship in the fandom. I haven’t seen it as much in recent years, but back in the days of fanfiction.net she got slut shamed so badly for having been romantically interested in three of the male characters over the course of the show, which is just... normal straight woman behavior, meanwhile Merlin crushed on pretty much every woman who even looked at him in the early seasons of the show and got no hate for that whatsoever. I barely even read Merthur fics (not because it’s m/m, just because certain aspects of their relationship don’t appeal to me) but the “Gwen is a slut” attitude was so pervasive across the fandom, even fics that weren’t explicitly anti-Gwen would “jokingly” call her a slut. I even saw a few fics demonizing her for having an affair with Lancelot despite the fact that SHE WAS ENCHANTED when that happened, and surprise surprise, Lancelot (who was also under the influence of magic) got none of that hate, and neither did Arthur, who got enchanted to fall in love with multiple women over the course of the show.

Canonically Arthur Pendragon's love interest and an important and interesting character in the show who's completely shoved aside and ignored in favour of the medieval bbc yaoi ship. At best they put her and Morgana in Lesbian Timeout (ie make them get together and then reduce them to wingwomen at best because god forbid we focus on the medieval bbc yuri). Justice for Gwen right now!

She is prince Arthur's love interest (eventually wife). Arthur is MADLY in love with her. He tells his tyrannical father he would give up his crown to be with her (she's a servant in the series). He forgives her cheating on him with Lancelot (!), which in the show is caused by an evil enchantment, but the characters never find out about it. He chooses her time and time again. His love for Gwen is literally never put into question. Many fans insist to this day that there was no chemistry between Gwen and Arthur compared to Arthur and Merlin. Arthur isn’t even particularly nice to Merlin most of the time! The funny thing is that Merlin himself ships these two so hard and does everything he can to help them get together!! Gwen & Arthur are adorable and too many fans were drunk on the yaoi fumes to see it. ARTHUR WAS A SIMP FOR GWEN.

#poll #round 1 #alana bloom #hannibal #bbc gwen #bbc merlin #merlin

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cheynovak · 2 months

Text

Forbidden Hearts

Soldier Boy x F/Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Family trauma, abuse,

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

Words: 6500

*Does not follow The Boys storyline!*

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Y/N and Ben (Soldier boy) both grew up in South Philly. Ben’s father took an interest in Y/N’s mother a few years after her father died. By the time they made their relationship public both you and Ben were young teens. As young kids you two saw each other as siblings but the more time they spend time together, the more Ben noticed his feelings weren’t normal sibling love. But what happens when Y/N reaches the age where her mother wants to find a good husband for her only daughter.

---------------------------------

“Really mom? Again?” Young Y/N wined, “I don’t like Benjamin, can’t I go play outside?” Your mother sighs. “Y/N first off, Benjamin and his father are our guests, we welcome them like a proper host. And secondly a young respectable woman like yourself doesn’t run around or play in the streets.”

Your mom was firm. “Now get upstairs and put on the pink dress Sheila picked out for you. Sheila was your servant, a beautiful young girl, barley even a woman, but she was the only real friend Y/N had. Sheila and her mother have been in this house as long as you can remember.

But when your dad died, the money influx stopped, and your mom had to let go of a servant. Sheila was cheaper and so she could stay but work a few more hours. She was always nice to Y/N, she even made an outfit with pants so you could go play outside, and mother would never notice the mutt or grass stains on her good dresses.

By the time Benjamin and his father arrived you and your mother waited in the grand hall to greet her guests. This wasn’t the first time you saw Ben, two years ago she met him on one of his father’s parties, remembering him as a little annoying snob, a bully. She didn’t know her mother had been writing and receiving letters from his father over the past year.

The boy you met then had changed into a young man, Benjamin was a little over a year older than you, he turned 15 last week and starting to grow into his body, made him look like a handsome young man, but in Y/N’s eyes he was just an annoying teenager.

You really didn’t want him here and the look on Ben’s face was exactly the same as yours, bored. His father gave him an elbow to his shoulder, urging him to greet you properly.

Benjamin’s dad made his visits weekly, which means you had to endure the young boy in your house, while listening to boring talk from the adults. Every few minutes your mother would correct your posture. God you hated that. One time she made a comment that made Ben laugh, you hated that even more.

“Ma-am? Pardon me, but it’s nice weather outside, perhaps miss Y/N could show the young Benjamin the garden?” Sheila interfered. Trying to safe both of you being bored this entire afternoon. “I like that idea.” his dad answered, making it impossible for you mother to decline. Sheila winked at you.

You showed Ben the large garden and the treehouse your father made for you right before he died. The second he left his father the young boy changed. The stiffness in his shoulders disappeared, he even started to talk to her. Pretty soon they found out they had a lot more in common.

Both lost the parent that cared the most for them. She found out Ben was in boarding school and that he only came home on the weekends. Which were now occupied with weekly visits to you and your mother.

Luckily the treehouse became a safe place for the youngster to hang out or hide out from their parents. His father was considered a well-respected man by society, so he showed his interested in your mother by doing what a man should, courting her, for months. Until the public eye would have forgotten both were once married and have grieved long enough.

“Does you mom always make you wear those ruffled dresses?” He asked while lying on the ground in the treehouse next to you, shoulder to shoulder looking at the sky via the opening in the ceiling. Watching the clouds drift by.

“Uhu, A like a proper lady should.” She mocked her mother. Ben let out a sharp breath “You, a proper lady, not in a million years.” - “What do you mean?” She looked shocked. “You want to be a free little birdy. Go where the wind takes you.” You look at him not knowing where that came from.

He lifted your skirt right above your knee. Which made you flinch and push his hand away. “Your knees are covered in bruises.” he added seeing your discomfort. “I’m sure a proper lady doesn’t go out and play rougher games outside.”

“Well, I think that is a ridicules rule.” Y/N blushed “Amen.” He preached while winking. Y/N really liked it when he did that, such a small gesture but it gave you a warm feeling.

“Aren’t you bored being he every weekend?” You asked while placing your back against the wooden floor again. “Nah, this is better than being home with my old man. He doesn’t know yet, but the school is going to call him.” - “Again? That’s twice over this year I known you.” you looked at him. “Why this time?”

“Some punk hit me. I hit back.” He answered like it was the most normal thing to do. “And why did he hit you?” Ben smirked before he turned his face to you. “I may or may not have kissed his girlfriend.” - “BENJAMIN!” that reaction made him laugh, crossing his arms over his stomach.

“You don’t do that!” you said like you were his mother, completely in shock. “Oh come on Y/N, this is a safe place, right? What good is our friendship if I can’t tell you things like that.” You felt your cheeks heat up. “Friendship?” she asked shy.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re nothing like al the girly girls I know. I like hanging around you, you have a ‘no drama vibe’. Doesn’t that make us friends, Birdy?” - “I guess so, you’re not as horrible to hang out with like I thought.”

“Oh, wow thanks! Most girl even like to hang out with me.” he bumped her shoulder. “Till they get to know you.” She joked. “Wow, jeez thanks!” You bumped his shoulder back. “Being friends means tough love.”

“Benjamin! We’re leaving!” you hear his father yell. “That time again.” He said lifting on to his elbow towards you. He looked through the cut-out window “I’m coming father!” he responded. “Well, see you next weekend, Birdy.” He said looking down at her, almost hovering over her.

Y/N’s heart dropped, she looked into his green eyes. He’s never been this close to your face. “Eh yeah, next weekend.” you said almost in a whisper. Ben jumped over you to crawl out of the treehouse. You still lay down on the ground, feeling the heat in her cheeks rise. Taking a deep breath before walking out after him.

During diner your mother started yet another awkward situation, “Y/N darling, what do you and Benjamin do all afternoon in that child house?” She didn’t lift her eyes of her plate and neither did you. “Treehouse mother, and we talk.” She raised her eyebrow, you noticed. “About school, our grades, hobbies, you know, stuff” she continued. “Hm... stuff.”

She thought for a second, “You know that young Benjamin is turning into a man.” Y/N looked up from her plate. “And a young man creates certain... desires around this age.” Oh no, not this talk you thought, while feeling your cheeks blush again.

“And you being younger and a woman, may not feel the same desires as him, as you shouldn’t. So, it’s important you don’t give him the wrong impression.” Her eyes looked at yours. “I’m trying to say, you should know that a woman needs to be pure when she marries a man.”

“Mom! Please stop! Ben never... I never. It’s nothing like that, he never tried anything, he is my friend!” Y/N took a deep breath, calming her nerves. “We’re just friends. You can stop this...talk.” She nodded slow, “I just noticed the time you two spend together.”

You look back at your plate. “Well, I though, it would please you knowing I’m trying to be friends with the son of the man that’s courting you for over a year now. I mean, I believe we might see each other more often.” She smiled her well practise fake smile.

September 1936

Not only Ben’s birthday month but also the day your mother and his father came out as an item and engaged. And to celebrate they want to throw a party on Saturday the 20th... The day after Ben’s birthday, the day he could celebrate his 17th birthday with his family.

You watched your mother clinging on to your stepfather to be. Flashing her ring to every woman she sees. It made your stomach turn. In the corner of your eye you see Ben, with the same disgusted look on his face. Poor Ben, he turned 17 yesterday and how did his father welcomed him home that day? By telling he is engaged.

You saw him taking a little silver bottle out of his pocket and pouring the liquid in his orange juice. Your feet automatically walked towards him. “This was supposed to be your day.” You whisper in his ear before giving him a small welcome hug. You could see his beard coming through. Seeing his freckles, his skin, his lips moved slightly into a smile when your greeted him.

You don’t know when he started to change, but over the last year, Ben’s slim childish figure had morphed into a man, he looked similar to his old man, clearly inherited his broad shoulders, full beard and hair colour, but Ben grew slightly taller this last year.

Although he looked a lot like his father, his eyes were his mother’s, the hard green eyes may fool someone who doesn’t know him. Making him looking firm and tough, but if you looked closer you could see the softness and caring behind them.

He was no longer a young boy, no, Ben looked like a man. And yes, I will admit it to myself, but never to him, he looks really good. “Quite the party.” He sighs before looking you up and down. “Did your mother chose this dress?” Y/n’s eyes grew big “No I did, why?” you ask looking at your body wondering if you made the wrong choice.

“I thought so, you clearly have a better taste.” He winked at her. “Well, I hope I’ll have better taste in men as well.” You let those words slip without thinking, your eyes look in an instant at Ben. “I’m so sorr..” Without any emotion he interferes your apology. “Yeah, hope so too.”

Poor Ben, you heard his stories over the last two years about his dad, at first thinking he couldn’t be that bad. But when you saw him one weekend with multiple bruises on his back, you had no choice but to believe him. Normally he would just break Ben down mentally but sometime when he got drunk or really angry, his belt came off.

“Ben?” - “Hm?” - ”With all this going on, I didn't have the chance yet to give you your birthday present.” His eyes grew wide looking down at you. “Follow me?” you said with a mischievous smile.

Ben looked around while you grabbed his hand and ran to the backyard. Noticing your mother seeing the two of you sneak out. Without thinking you climbed up to the treehouse. Ben followed right behind you, looking once over to the party, seeing your mother staring at him though the window.

He grinned before climbing up.

She really hated the fact that her perfect daughter was so close to him, he had been thrown out of school, again. She really hoped his influence wouldn't affect her little girl. Or worse.

“I’m really getting too big for this.” he said while climbing through the hole in the floor. Y/N chuckled soft “Need a hand?” - “yeah!” you pulled him up, accidently pulling him closer than needed. Your laugh softly faded away when roaming his face that towered over you.

The treehouse was dark part from the soft lighting coming from the main house through the cracks. The yellow light fell perfectly on his golden skin. His eyes even warmer than before. Thank the heavens he couldn’t see the heat on your face.

“What was it you wanted to show me?” His voice sounded deep, still holding her hands in his. “Show yo... Oh yeah, right.” you chuckle again, only this time it sounded more nervous. Ben regretted the second you let go of his hands, taking all the warmth with you. “Happy Birthday, I hope you like it.”

Ben opened the packaging, his eyes blinked fast. “I notice you read the same Agatha Christie story over and over so I figured you might like a new one. So, you know, you can at least change once in a while.”

Ben didn’t answer, he just stared at the book in his hands. Which made you nervous and started to talk. “I hope you don’t have this one yet? The lady at the bookstore told me it was the new one, or you know at least from last year. But it is supposed to be really good.”

Before you could say more, he pulled you into a hug. Leaving you frozen, Ben never hugged, he tapped your shoulder or knee, gave an elbow, shoulder or wink. But a hug, never. “You really know me.” He said trying to sound neutral while he felt emotional.

The last person who gave him a book, the book he kept reading was his mother, she loved the Poirot thrillers. Sharing it with her son. And she was the only person who ever really understood him, knew him. Y/N unknowingly reminded him of his mom. “I’m glad you like it.” you whisper against his shoulder. “I love it, it’s perfect.”

He slowly let’s go of you, but his eyes were still lingering on your face, like he was looking for something. Ben slowly moved down, kissing your cheek. You closed your eyes, while taking a deep breath, clenching your fingers around his arm. You had no idea if it was his amazing smell or the kiss, but something made you lightheaded.

His lips felt soft and lingered just a little too long on your skin. “Thank you.” he said again. “Ben...” he looked at you. What are you going to say Y/N, you thought to yourself. You’re welcome? Don't stop? Kiss me? You managed to snap out of it. “Maybe we should get back.”

You could see the sadness, disappointment in his eyes. “I think you right.” He said while letting go. “Ladies first.” he pointed his hands to the opening in the floor. The two of you walked back in silence. Hands every so often brush against each other.

Almost a year had been passed, and the parents decided to move in together, since his father had a nicer house, read: a house that had been taken care of over the years, your mother decided to move to his place. Much against the disliking of Y/N. She had to leave the house her father bought.

Ben had been thrown out of school again, making it hard on his father to find another school that wanted to take him. “I really don’t know what to do with you son.” he had said. “You’re so far behind no other school wants to take you on.”

“Perhaps sir, I can lend him my books after school, so that he doesn’t get behind on school knowledge and he can join next semester?” Both men looked at you with big eyes. “I wouldn’t mind tutoring him. Keeps me busy with my schoolwork as well.” You turn to your mother.

“What do you think love?” Oh god, you hated it he called you mother that. “As long as your schoolwork gets done properly, I don’t mind.” Y/N smiled softly at Ben who shook his head softly displeased.

“Right, that’s settled.” You mother added, “Oh and Y/N darling. Don’t forget to go to the debutant practise? It’s only in a couple of months darling. If we want to find a proper suiter, we need to get you ready. You're 16. The time is right.” You answered with a smile that looked like you had a toothache. “Of course, mother.”

Ben saw the tears in your eyes well up. You never thought that after your father died, she wanted to continue the tradition. Besides it was the father’s job to walk his daughter down the stairs, to present his daughter.

You hear a soft knock on the door. “Mind if I come in?” Ben asked leaning in the door.

“If it makes you feel better, I have to go too.” He sat down next to you on your bed. “Well, ... you’ll have 20 women on each hand, trying to get your attention. I’m the weird freak who does nothing but study.” He placed himself on his back, his hand under his head. “I’m sure there are plenty suiters.”

Y/N fell back next to him, turning your head to him. Making it touch his elbow. “And what if no one ask me to dance?” His broad smile appeared “Then I’ll find you.”- “You?” - “Yeah” - “That will be the talk of the town.” you giggled making Ben smile genuine.

Months gone by, the night of the debutant ball came closer. Your mother made sure it would be a night to remember, Ben’s father had agreed to walk you and he arranged that, Jonathan the son of a colleague would take over the first dance.

You both practised together, he seemed nice and interested. On the last rehearsal he saw you and Ben talk. “Hitting on my girl Benny boy?” -” Just a friendly conversation, johnny boy” he mocked his voice.

“Listen buddy, you might want to hit on everything with a skirt on, but this one is mine.” Y/n looked shocked. “Excuse me?” - “Y/N isn’t yours pal, you might want to take it down a notch.” - “Or what?” he took a step forward. “Forgot how I rearranged your face last year buddy? Don’t mind doing it again.” Ben stood toe to toe with Jonathan.

“Ben, Jonathan, stop it!” Both guys looked at you, standing almost in between them. “Act like gentlemen please!” To your surprise Ben listened, “But don’t worry Johnny, I'm not going after your girl. Stacy is my date. He waved at the hot girl a crossed the room. Who had no idea how to act.

“Who is Stacy?” you asked Jonathan after Ben left. “I used to date her, but Ben who said to be my friend kissed her. I hit him, he hit me. You know.” - “That was you?!” Jonathan looked not understanding her. “Ben told me a long time ago.”

The more you spent time with Jonathan the more you could see why he was a nice decent guy. You even started to hope he would like you enough to get to know you better.

The night of the debutant ball

Y/N was extremely nervous that morning, while she promised Ben to help him pack his things she had to rush to prepare her own bag. Making the mistake of taking the wrong bag to the fitting room. Each girl had their own small space to prepare. It was more like a shower curtain box than a room, but it would work.

Y/N noticed she had taken Ben’s bag with her instead of her make-up and hair supplies. Shit! She thought to herself. Y/N popped her head out of the curtain when she heard Ben’s voice. “Ben, Ben, Ben! Over here!” She yelled.

He left the group of guys behind and ran over to you. “What’s up? Need a hand with the zipper?” he joked. “No...” She thought for a second, “Actually yes that too, but you have my bag.” You pointed to the bag in hand before disappearing back behind the curtain.

Ben followed behind it making sure it was closed. You checked the bag making sure your make up was inside. “Thank god.” Y/N sighs. Ben noticed she was still in her silk robe. “Need me to come back for the dress?” - ”Just, turn around for a minute.”

As he did, he noticed his cheeks getting warmer. While his mind zoomed out to the idea that she was probably completely naked behind him. Only a few inches away, if he took a step back his back would touch hers.

“Ok you can turn.” He moved her hair aside to close all the buttons on her back. Starting at her lower back up to her shoulders. His hands shook which made it difficult to close them. When she turned back around, he couldn’t contain gaze.

Ben saw this beautiful white ball gown, her waist snatched in all the right places, her cleavage slightly shown, just enough for a young man to dream how she would look without the dress on. He had seen her change into a young woman over the year, this was one of the few times he actually looked at her.

“What do you think?” you asked nervous. “Eh, you look... nice.” He forced a smile. Feeling an idiot. His answer made you unsure of the choice of dress. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?” He saw the nerves in your eyes. “What? No, no! I’m just not used to you in this... I meant wow, beautiful.” He smiled sincere blushing.

“I-I I got to go.” Ben said while rushing out behind the curtain. Y/N followed him and held him back by his arm. You kissed his cheek. “Thanks, good luck.” - “You too.” He smiled, when he turned, he saw Jonathan who looked displeased at what he had witnessed. Making Ben grin even more.

As he wanted to pass him by, he bumped his shoulder to him. “What were you doing in her room?” Jonathan hissed. ”None of your business Johnny boy.” Ben almost sang.

The moment was there, Ben’s dad held your hand that was lying on top of his. “Ready?” he asked. “As I’ll ever be.” Y/N breathed out. The moment the young girls were introduced on the top of the stairs they could look into to crowed. But most of all they would see their partners lined up down the stairs.

You immediately notice Jonathan wasn’t in his place. Making you search nervously into the crowed. Ben noticed you were stressed, as he was standing almost last in line. He knew how heartbroken you would have been if his dad had to leave you with all the girl who couldn’t find a partner.

So, he did what he had promised, making sure you would have a dance. He moved up front right before his dad and you took the last step.

You had seen him rush to the front seeing him for the first time in a black tuxedo complete with a bowtie and his hair combed back. Compared to the other boys he really could pull this look off. “What are you doing Benjamin?” His father asked, but he didn’t answer, he just smiled at you. “Thank you.” you mouthed, looking grateful.

Unfortunately, this meant that Stacy had no partner to welcome her down the stairs, which made Ben look extremely bad with the other parents. Making him once again a bad match for the most eligible families.

The opening dance began, “You do know you blew your changes this year, again.” You said while Ben placed his hand under your shoulders, guiding you over the dance floor. “What do you mean?” - “Every parent knew the couples. You leave the most popular, most desired girl standing alone.”

“Most desired family to marry into maybe.” He looked over to the ‘loner’ table. “I couldn’t have you sitting there, this dress needs to be seen tonight. You need to be seen.” - “What a compliment, charmer.” you blushed “Did it work?” He asked with a flirty tone, just a little too close to your face.

Ben couldn’t stop looking at her, he had seen her dress and what it did for her body but know she had done her hair and make-up she was truly transformed into a beautiful young woman. Her lips had a soft reddish look, not tacky like some other girls here, no, a deeper colour than what she already naturally had.

It reminded him of the colour she had on a winter’s day, when they took a walk in the park. He remembered that day because he couldn’t stop looking at her lips when she kept talking about some school project. He wanted to shut her up by pushing his lips on to hers.

Her eyes shined under the lights of the room. Again, just using whatever she had and enhanced her natural beauty. Ben couldn’t stop staring, wondering why he never noticed. Or did he?

The music faded out. The couples were now free to choose another partner in case they wanted to meet someone else. Ben held her hand, fiddling on her glove. “Do you want me to...” He nodded to the girls sitting on the side of the dance floor.

“May I be selfish and have one more dance?” You asked shy. Not ready to leave his strong arms already. Really liking how easy being with him felt. Besides that, Ben was a really good dancer, compared to what you had seen in practise, he never stood on your toes once.

After a moment of silence Ben spoke. “Do you like one of these guys?” Your head tilted. “I mean, do you see one of these men being your... husband, one day?” His question took you by surprise. “Eh, not that I know, why?”

He grinned “Want to get out of here?” You were shocked “Ben we can’t!” - “Oh come on, this is all one big charade. Tell me honestly you like this and we’ll stay.” You try to protest. “You’ve been dancing with me for the past 5 songs. I’m bored, you’re bored. Let’s go.”

Although Y/N was always the playing by the rules kind of girl she did follow him. He whistled for a taxi, driving you to your old house. “What are we doing here?” You whispered while Ben opened the gate to the garden.

Your old house had stood empty for a long time, only being sold just last week. “Remember this?” He asked when he stopped in front of the treehouse. “Ladies first.” He held out his hand, helping you up the steps. Leaving your high heels, coat and gloves on the grass.

You heard a scratching sound, noticing your dress ripped under your arm, all the way down to your hip. Ben struggled to get through the hole in the floor, once he got up the stairs, he saw you looking at the broken dress. “Ha, couldn’t wait for me to get up here to undress did ya.” He joked.

“This isn’t funny Ben! Do you have any idea how expensive it was? Mom is going to kill me!” He shook his head while turning you to him so he could take a look. He noticed you weren’t wearing anything underneath the corset looking top, showing a lot of skin. “Here.” He took of his jacket throwing it over your shoulders, covering you.

Ben took the old blanket they hide up there and placed it on the wooden floor underneath the opening in the ceiling. He sat down, tapping the place next to him before he laid back. One arm under his head while his other rested on his stomach.

Y/N crawled next to him. “I missed this.” you sigh content. Ben looked over to you, watching you looking at the stars above them. “Yeah, me too.” After a long comfortable silence, you turn to him.

“Ben? Can I ask you something?” - “Sure, anything.” - “Do you feel ready for all of this... courting, dating, marriage... You know life.” He thought about that for a second. “Maybe if I find the right one. But no girl out there at that stupid ball is going to change anything.”

“How about you, you honestly think one of those guys is going to make you happy?” - “I don’t know... maybe.” - ”Really?!” He lifted himself a little, to take a better look at you. “I mean if someone would give me a chance.” shocked of his reaction.

“You do realise it is them that should be glad to even get a chance with you right? Not the other way around.” You didn’t understand what he meant. “Those losers don’t deserve you Y/N. All they want is a-a housewife, someone who has no life of her own. Just serving her husband.” - “I know.”

“Oh come on birdy, that’s not you! I knew from the second we spoke you were a free spirit, I won’t let any man bind you to a golden cage.” - “That is not up to you Ben! What if I want it like that! Normal.” - “You don’t.” - “How do you know!”

Ben sat back up facing you, your voices a little louder than whispering, hearing the frustrations growing. “Because I know you. This is your mother talking!” - “Yeah, well,... maybe she is right.” - “Bullshit!” - “Benjamin!” - “No of real Y/N, stop thinking about her, what do you want!”

Y/N lifted herself on to her elbows looking at him.

“I want someone to love, someone who likes me. And if that means I need to change, I will.” Ben thought about that for a second. “And what if you don’t have to change?”

She wanted to protest but he held his hand up. He swiftly looked at her before he looked at his knees, his fingers fiddled with the laces of his shoes.

“What if, you find someone who thinks you’re an incredible, powerful, beautiful, smart woman. Who deserves the world.” Your heart bounced in your chest, unable to talk or think all you could do was look into Ben’s eyes. Wondering what he meant. “What?” you barely answered.

Ben’s hand moved to the back of your neck, before you could realise what he did you felt his lips on yours. Hearing your own heartbeat in your ears. Not knowing how to react. It wasn’t until he pulled back you realised you didn’t close your eyes, neither did you kiss him back.

Your fingers move to your lips, like you could retrace his kiss. You stare in his eyes, seeing the heat he carried with him. His face was still close to yours, his green eyes kept looking back at your open lips. Looking for an answer from you.��

Ben let out a deep breath when your fingers found their way to the back of his head, you wanted to feel him again, his lips felt softer than you thought, never did you dream that your first kiss would be with him, but something felt just right.

Before realising you laid back against the floor, with Ben hovering over your body. The kiss slowly deepened, the noises, breaths that came out of him made your blood boil. You knew he had more ‘experience’ all though you never talked about it into every detail.

But for some reason your body knew how to react to his touch, one knee moved, so his body pulled in closer, feeling the warmth of him radiate on your skin.

When Ben’s lips moved to your neck, you arch your back. His hand moved over your ribs, feeling his fingertips slipping under his jacket that you still wore. Touching the skin that was shown through the rip in your dress.

Even that soft touch made you moan under your breath. Pulling him closer to you, your hands roamed over his broad shoulders, wanting, no needing to feel his body closer to you. His lips moved back to your lips, his tongue asking for permission to find yours.

Ben’s hand moved slowly down, caressing over your thigh to your knee, pulling the dress up so his hand disappeared underneath. Kneading your thigh just above the knee before moving up to your hip, kneading again.

But just when you realised this might be the moment, Ben pulled his hand back and placed his forehead against yours. Humming a deep breath. “What’s wrong?” Please don’t say you regret this. “Why are you... stopping?”

Ben opened his eyes, smiling. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do this.” he kissed your head. “Then why stop?” You asked biting your lip, feeling a little bold. “Everything has it’s time, Birdy.” Knowing he meant he knew you were inexperienced. ” I’m ready.” you mumbled against his lips before luring him down into another breath-taking kiss.

“Let’s just... enjoy this for a second ok.” you nodded in response. “I want your first time to be special, perfect.” he looked around “not in a treehouse on a wooden floor.” your hand moved through his hair before cubbing his cheek. He took your hand and kissed your wrist a couple of times before taking his place next to you again.

Pulling you into a hug, your head against his shirt.

Both you and Ben woke up by the sound of voices. Both of you had moved during the night. Ben still held you in his arms only his face snuggled against your neck. One arm under your head and neck holding his other hand that hung over your side, connecting in front of your breast.

“Ah mister Benjamin, good morning boy. I see you have company.” Both of you looked at the hole in the floor. Seeing a police officer’s head pop up. “Please come down here, now.” He said firm. While you both climbed down you hear him talk to the new owners of the house.

“Just two teenagers ma-am, nothing to worry about, we’ll make sure they get home and have the proper punishment.” While you both sat in the police car on your way home, the policeman turned to Ben.

“You’re lucky the young lady is with you boy, next time I catch you breaking in somewhere I'm locking you up. Seeing how proud daddy is of you he wouldn’t mind.” He turned to his colleague in the car. “I lost count how many times I had to bring this juvenile home. "

Once home your parents took you to separate rooms. Ben’s father lost his temper again. “Are you out of your mind boy! Do you realise what you did to her? The consequences? I had to move heaven and earth to convince Jonathan’s father to take her to that dance!

“Then where was he? He would have made her look like a fool.” - “No boy! YOU DID! You’re family!” “Like hell we are!” Ben’s father lifted his hand, making Ben quiet, knowing he might get a beating. “And like that wasn’t bad enough, you ran off and take advantage of her.” he continued.

Ben’s eyes widened, “I-I didn’t!’ His father hands pinched his cheeks, “So you’re a faggot know?” making him turn his face toward the mirror, seeing a soft lipstick stain on his lips. “Is that it, Benjamin? You like to dress up as a woman?”

If looks could kill.

“Let’s not start on the fact that her dress is ripped apart, like a goddamn animal touched her! I knew I had to keep an eye on you, but you, you are a disgrace to this family! You not only ruined your chance at finding a proper wife, you ruined hers on finding a man!”

“Stop pretending you care about her, or me!” He matched his tone, "Don’t talk to me like that boy! You are a shame to this family, to our name!”

You are a shame to this family, to our name! you heard his father yell. while your mother played the ‘I was so worried’ card. You sat silent in front of the mirror, while she let your hair down and brushed it. “Y/N, you need to tell us what he did.”

You didn’t answer, “Even if it makes you uncomfortable, we need to know, so we know how to punish Ben for doing so.” You didn’t answer, you just looked down at your hands. “Don’t worry honey, his father will find a way to get rid of him”

This made you look at her in the mirror. “I swear mother, he didn’t do anything.” -”Oh honey, you said that before, and I trusted you, but I clearly can’t trust you or that boy anymore!”

“No, I swear! He just saved me from the ball!” - “I’m sure that is what he wanted to make you believe. He saved you. Like he had saved countless, other, young woman in this town.” Her hands landed on your shoulder.

“He is a Casanova darling, we had complaints over the last few years of parents whose girls were tricked by him. Madly in love but he let them down. Just like he is playing you now.”

“No.” Your voice sounded weak, teary. “He is nothing like that mother, not to me.” You could see the pity in her eyes. “That boy turned for the worse I knew he liked girls, but i never thought him taking it this far."

"When his mother died, I had hoped to pick up her role but it’s clearly impossible.”

“He won’t change. And I won’t let him change you, you are a perfect daughter. And you will marry into a perfect family. I’ll make sure of it!”

That night was the last night both you and Ben had with the family. Your mother had demanded that you would join boarding school instead of Ben, to prepare you for the life to come. Asking the principal, you could stay over on the weekends and vacations.

A class no matter how old you were, you had to take the course for 4 years. To rehabilitate. Ben had to work with the lower working class. Earning his father’s thrust back. Knowing very well he would never redeem Ben.

End of part one. In the next part Ben and Y/N meet again, her coming home was not how he expected.

Let me know what you think <3

Like – share – Comment or give me a follow!

Make sure you checkout my masterlist

#fanfic #fluff #the boys #x reader #soldier boy #the boys amazon #jensen fucking ackles #angst #the boys hughie #pinning #jensenedit #jensen ackles #the boys fanart #fanfiction #f reader #supernatural

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

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I'm so eager to see more from your amazing Otome AU. How about Riddle, Azul and Vil with a player that chooses to ignore the plot and choose them instead?

Otome au

I do not take any responsebility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, kidnapping, possessiveness, murder

Riddle Rosehearts/Azul Ashengrotto/Vil Schoenheit-Player ignores the plot and chooses them instead

FINALLY!!! THE DAY HAS COME!

With how excited he is he might as well just say that you two are egaged (we al know how much he values a married life)

Riddle’s thought process behind all of this is that he was born for loving you so… mhm you are not going to leave his side ever

But hey, maybe you can bring his tyranny to an end?

One day you were just playing the game, being dissatisfied with how cliche the thypical “good” and “bad” was being portrayed

And then you started a new chapter but… it looked different…

“Hidden route, chapter 1-Welcome to the villains world”

And suddenly you are thrown into a world full of betrayal, murder and obsessive villains that are all after your hand

Congrats! Now try to survive

But once you have reached the end of the now unlocked route of Riddle, the red “Queen”, the tyrant, you have experienced a long journey far more interesting than the normal route which is filled with the typical magical girl saviour complex

But damn was there a lot to unpack

But now everything is fine! The ending CG was so beautifull and… and… godness is it just me or are you getting sleepy?

If you thought that Riddles reign of terror would be ended just with that then I’m sorry but nope

He is determined to get you into his world, to play crocket with flamings and behead soliders who planted the wrong roses

Riddle won’t just turn into a good “Queen” who is a pacifist, no

He just wants you beside him now, and who is there to stop him? Defenitely not the Fairy of thorns

Say goodbye to everyone that matters because soon he will be the only one you will have real human contact with, believe me, silent servants aren’t a good thing for loneliness

I mean, it is already hard enough to even unloc the normal underwater routes but now you even want the hidden one?

Well congrats because you just did! Please enjoy “The merchant from the depths”

And look at that! It’s the two eels you shish kebabed in the normal route… thank goodness they can’t remember that… haha… ha… O_O

And that cave is also a lot more friendlier than shown before! Maybe you always just had a wrong image of the mersorcerer…

Azul is very kind as well. Before you know it you are one fourth done with his route because it is just so much fun

What you don’t know though is that behind the screen Azul is more than just happy that you finally found your way here

Finally he was able to break through the fate that was bestowed upon this world!

It is also such a sad and also beautifull route as well! Who would have thought he had such a connection to a certain ruler that was never mentioned before in the normal routes?

When you finally were able to bring to light that the supposedly royal family had in truth stolen their seat from Azuls family everything finally became better

The octopus was no longer shunned and hey, he looked geniunely happy! What else do you want?

Now back to that chapter with the hidden missions with which you could unlock the other hidden routes… why are you automatically back to his?

You really shouldn’t be that surprised. He finally got a taste of how true affection really tastes and you think he would just let go? Let you continue to the others?

I would recommend forgetting those cute CG in which he hugged you shyly. They are of the past

Now that you think about it… that trident would probably not something good in his hands…

But no need to worry! He will take good care of it. There is just one thing he will do with it for himself

I don’t know why you are suddenly getting sleepy. But maybe you should be more concerned about the… arms (?) closing around you…

Will say that he expected this to happen sooner or later (he didn’t)

Imagine, one day he was asking his most trusted reflecting surface what you were doing and the thing says you are right now nlocking his route

The poor thing expected for his king to do something damaging to it out of shock

And then suddenly Vil was thanking it with a singsong voice, dusting it’s frame free of nonexistent dust

Finally he finally had you! Almost… But still!

Whilst Vil is celebrating you are more in a “What the heck!!!” mood

Who would have thought that the man ruling this place had been an outcast shunned by the other Nobles who only looked at his brother, only his father looking after him

And what happened in the normal route made so much more sense now! Neige had always been pampered, skill and talent coming to him wiithout any effort

No wonder Vil had such a vandetta against him

It was also such a relief for Vil when he didn’t end like he was supposed to in the normal route, remembering how he felt the burn and how the world slowly turned black

Not only that, it was also nice for him to know that he wasn’t seen by you as some powerfull person but rather the ordinary person that he was deep down

And his after story was also one that was so heartwarming! Him talking to his raven about you, saying that he was happier than ever…

This is where I end the fluff and start to recommend tossing the game out of the window

You see, him talking to his raven was one of the red flags that wouldn’t be red flags in a normal relationship but are in the one you have

Did he just look at you instead at your avatar in the game??! Why was he so pricky? He was softer in his route…

Just at least try to stay away from the Shaftlands. There has been talk about their king looking into arts that are able to influence other worlds…

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gemsofgreece · 8 months

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What was women's position in the Byzantine Empire? I haven't searched that much, but it seems like her position wasn't any different from Ancient Greece, where they were expected to be modest, silent and it was generally preferable not to be heard (at least, women from aristocratic families).

Well you won’t find easily a medieval state which did not want women to be modest and quiet.

In spite of that, no that’s not true. The place of the woman in the society improved considerably in Byzantine times compared to the Classical era. As a sidenote, perhaps we should not generalize about Classical Greece either, especially when we apply the reality of Athens to all the Greek world without enough evidence that this is historically accurate, at a time when Athens was extremely obsessed with ¨male perfection¨.

Based on our view of things nowadays, it might seem counterintuitive, however Christianity played a huge role in this improvement. You see, the Bible through its scriptures and also the very example of Virgin Mary, whom the Byzantines (and later the Modern Greeks too) worshipped almost equally to Christ, as well as the church’s acknowledgement and veneration of women martyrs indiscriminately from men martyrs, made it clear that women were spiritually equally capable of achieving “théosis”, meaning resemble the image of God, in other words; sainthood. It was thus deemed important that women would be able to read and study the scriptures. As a result the Byzantine empire had the highest literacy rate of women in the Middle Ages.

Intercepting for those who might wonder: "But the Ancient Greek religion had gods and goddesses alike, so why wouldn't that improve the social status of women?". The answer is because in the Ancient Greek religion there was no concept of théosis, meaning any human's strive to achieve a moral perfection to resemble the image of God. The dynamics of gods and godesses were separate from those of the people, where women were left to be evaluated by and versus men alone.

Women were nowhere as confined as the women of classical Greece. Of course they should be good wives and mothers catering to their household first and foremost but they could participate in social events, festivals, go shopping, lather in the baths and have fun like men did. As wives, their status was also better, as according to Christianity all god-fearing men were supposed to be loyal to their wives and have no concubines. So, if a man really had no intention to be faithful at all, neither to his wife nor to the Christian teachings, he at least did it discreetly, and if he did not do even that, then he did not escape the judgement of the society. Divorce was hard for either spouse to ask, of course waaay more for women, but for example Justinian enforced an iconic law that if a couple wanted to take a divorce then BOTH spouses should go to monasteries and be celibate for life lol So you know, be cruel, but at least be indiscriminately cruel! 😂

Financially, dowries and inheritance remained a woman’s property after marriage unlike in classical times. If the husband died, it was the widow’s choice whether she would marry again or not and she was in charge of her children on her own whereas in classical times women had to marry their husband’s closest relative (to “protect” them and the property that had now passed on their own family). So, really no contest there. Women owned and ran businesses and signed contracts. They were employed in a wide range of professions.

As for the aristocrats, they had it much better than classical aristocrats. They did not work like lower class women, obviously, so they filled all that extra time by being pampered by their servants (female and male, sometimes eunuchs), who were usually exclusive to them. Depending on the lady’s interests, the servants would keep her entertained by playing music, reading to her, gossiping, grooming her etc Some women hired teachers to improve on their education on their own accord. Wives of important men were usually involved in political and diplomatic affairs and they were very interested in such matters. Educated women could be doctors (for women).

Nuns, who did not have the burden of taking care of the children and a husband, often became studious and pretty educated, with artistic concerns, like Kassiani. And to go back to the ask, there are accounts of Byzantine princesses being perceived in West Europe as “too talkative” and “too concerned with themselves”, so apparently Byzantium gave its aristocratic women a lot more liberty than, say, Classical Athens and also more than Western Europe did.

And then of course the Byzantine Empire was the only medieval state to have ever been reigned by four women on their own, and some of them were very consciously and ambitiously pursuing the throne. But even the empresses consorts, meaning the wives of the emperors, were also expected to be well acquainted with all the matters of the empire in case something happened to the emperor because they had to stand in his place temporarily or even serve as regents. From the 22 pages in Wikipedia about Byzantine regents, the 7 are about women, so one third, at least from the well known ones.

Women were also interested in their appearances and really took matters in their hands. Rich women would have special gardens cultivating flowers and spices to create their own perfumes. Michael Psellos writes about how Empress Zoe had essentially turned herself into a chemist, making the basements of the imperial palace a lab for perfumes and elixirs to maintain her youthful appearance.

And let’s end this with some quotes from Anna Komnene’s Alexiad (inspired by the Iliad she so loved), the chronicles of her father’s Emperor Alexius exploits in war.

12th-century manuscript of the Alexiad

The Alexiad is invaluable because it remains one of the richest sources of information historians possess about the military, social and imperial history of the Byzantine Empire.

Ah I had written before about that stuff and I meant to write something short this time but I just can’t do it when it’s about Byzantium my love adefefajdhhajhf

#history #byzantine empire #eastern roman empire #women #byzantine history #byzantine culture #east roman empire #byzantine greek culture #greek history #greek culture #middle ages #women in history #anna komnene #anna komnene porphyrogennite #anna comnena #attichoney4u #ask #long post #tw long

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itsclydebitches · 9 months

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I've seen a couple Good Omens/Ted Lasso crossovers lately, some in Tedependent circles, and though I love them (seriously, you have no idea how much) my brain is now itching to reverse the expected dynamic. Yeah, yeah, Trent is probably the demon because of his "whole vibe" and Ted is the angel because he's all but literally angelic already, HOWEVER

Please consider:

Ted - "I'm a creative, free-thinking kinda being who took to curiosity like a duck to water—neither of which exists yet, mind—which led to me asking a few too many questions over the millennium. I didn't fall, exactly, so much as saunter vaguely downwards and now I'm definitely the nicest demon you're ever going to meet, but we CAN'T acknowledge that, okay? 'Led Tasso' is the persona I put on when I need to convince Hell I'm doing the real dirty work, and he's definitely scary according to my fellow demon Beard, but otherwise I prefer to just enjoy what you crazy humans have to offer!" Trent - "I'm a straight-laced, by-the-book kinda being who has been denying my true nature for millennium now but HUSH we don't talk about that, okay? I'm not even aware that there's anything to not talk about because why would there be? Why would I change? As far as anyone is concerned I am the perfect angel, someone who climbed the ranks and now helps keep everyone else in line with a cutting tongue and a perfect recollection of every one of God's rules. I have a perfect angel partner who assists me in my work. We share responsibility for assisting a younger angel as they come into their own. Everything is as it should be because I am not just a servant of Heaven, but THE servant of Heaven. Sin wouldn't dare touch Trent of the Eastern Gate."

[Ted is sent to sow discord among Richmond because professional sports are rife with potential sin, don't you know. Trent is sent to put a stop to Hell's plans and does a stupid amount of research on human football in the process. Because he's thorough, of course, not because he's interested]

Ted, dressed in the dorkiest human clothes that other demons wouldn't be caught dead in, smiling a megawatt smile that has more than a hint of dark mischief attached: "Hi there, angel! I like your glasses."

Trent, dressed in a style he spent days cultivating in a display of narcissism that thoroughness, unnecessary glasses included, staring at this demon trying to tempt the players into... having a pillow fight?: "Is this a fucking joke?"

#Ted Lasso #Good Omens #Tedependent #Trend Crimm

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svartalfhild · 1 year

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Poetic Names in Dunmer Culture

I have a notion about Dunmer naming conventions that my little linguist brain keeps coming back to, ever since I learned that Vehk, Seht, and Ayem are the "poetic" forms of Vivec, Sotha Sil, and Almalexia's names. It got me thinking: what if regular Dunmer have poetic name forms as well?

I think it would be interesting if they had them as a version of a nickname, but with more specific and honored meaning, something that indicates not just familiarity but a bond worthy of poetry, something that you have to earn the right to call someone.

The House Dunmer of course can call their gods by these names because the Tribunal love to brand themselves as servants of the people, who all have a closeness with and reverence for their gods. Basically, it's acceptable because religion things. Also love how this makes saying "B'Vehk" roughly the same as saying "sweet Jesus" lol.

But like with normal people, I imagine it functions similar to getting to call someone by a nickname, except way more intense. Like you're either close family members, ultra bffs, lovers, or people who went through some shit together (e.g. soldiers who fought together, rivals who destroyed each other's lives, etc.). That's right folks! It doesn't have to be a bond based on love! It can be hate! Because it's the Dunmer, so of course. It just has to be Significant. Like Victorians calling each other by their first names but kicked up a notch. Or like going "bestie!!!!" (affectionate) or "worstie!!!" in the most deadpan way possible.

Anyway, so here's where we get to the linguistic part of this sociolinguistic headcanon. There are clearly conventions to how a poetic name is formed, based on the data given to us by the gods' names. The process is (usually) this:

Keep the initial letter of the original name. If the initial letter is a consonant followed by another consonant, the second consonant is considered part of the initial cluster and doesn't count towards #3. If the initial letter is a vowel other than a, the first consonant or consonant cluster remains as part of the first letter and doesn't count towards #3.

Add a vowel/diphthong by taking the final vowel/diphthong of the name and alter it according to specific patterns.

Add the second consonant. If the second consonant is the same as the first letter, use the final consonant instead. Y never counts as a consonant for this. Certain consonants must be altered according to specific patterns.

Vowel/Diphthong Changes:

a -> e, eh aa -> a, ah e -> e, eh i -> e, eh ii -> i o -> a, ah u -> u y -> e, eh ia -> ye ea -> ya ie -> ye iu -> yu ay -> ae ey -> ae ae -> a, ah ue -> u

h follows a vowel when the final consonant is k, m, n, or t

Consonant Changes:

b -> v c -> k d -> t th -> t

Poetic Name Examples:

Drelyth -> Drel Vavran -> Vehn Indrasi -> Indres Alarue -> Aur Tremona -> Trehm Ervynu -> Ervun Naryu -> Nur Aymillo -> Aymal Thathas -> Thes Llaals -> Llas Nethis -> Neht

That should give you an idea of how it goes. There are probably exceptions to these rules, and of course a lot of the poetic names are going to be the same, but there are lots of real world names that share nicknames, so I'm not bothered about it.

Also! I think this is exclusive to House Dunmer, and it's not something the Ashlanders do, because I think it started with the Tribunal.

I think Dunmer do have more conventional nicknames sometimes, but they're usually used by non-Dunmer or family members in a super casual way. I almost think of it like using -kun in Japanese when it's between Dunmer.

#Elder Scrolls #The Elder Scrolls #Dunmer #tesblr #conlang #linguistics

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

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༊*·˚ GUEST IS GOD CUSTOMER SERVICE お客様は神様カスタマーサービス ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

☎️ . . . HELLO HELLO! You have reached the Guest is God’s customer service line. How may I help you, dearest guest? ♡

Oh, you’re new ? My my, why don’t I introduce you to our establishment first, shall we ?

line status: unedited

The Guest is God Host Club is home to many of our fantastic hosts here to make your day, afternoon, or evening a little more interesting. Our employees cover a vast amount of needs our visitors might want from a regular old friend to talk to or maybe a dominant sexual deviant to spend the night with !

It’s important to know that despite our guests position as gods and goddesses of our club, to touch and perform any type of activities must with our hosts must first ask for consent. The best way would be to use our in-house formats such as “May this god . . . ? “ or “Could you service this god by . . . ?” as our staff are trained to respond immediately to this call.

If you break any of the rules, especially the one above, you are to be eliminated escorted outside the premises and blacklisted from entering.

So, dearest Guest. Please make sure to read our rulebook thoroughly !

Now that you know what The Guest is God is, how about I introduce you to our hosts and hostesses?

Now I may be a bit biased, but [L/N] [Y/N] has got to be my favorite ♡ You’ll find them to be the best match for you if you’re interested in the maid types . [Y/N] may act like a bit of a brat at times however, as such it’s your job as our guest to put them in their place ! We can’t have a disobedient servant after all . Oh oh, and I heard, if you pay extra you can bring them home to do your chores and what not. Aren’t you just excited by the thought of —

[ You hear an awfully loud cough from the other side and a couple of smacks. ]

Thanks but th-that hurt, y’know!

Fine ! Fine ! Moving on. Geez.

Now, Hazu Kashi is our latest addition so there may be times he . . . gets out of character but rest assured he’ll get to an acceptable level . . . one day. He’s supposed to represent the Dominant Daddy type but he’s a bit too shy. I honestly don’t know what boss was thinking trying to —

[ Another smack, this time much, much louder ]

He does pack a hit however! [ groan ] Making him the perfect sadist to entertain any of your masochistic needs!

Unto our next host, shall we?

If you’re looking for a more experienced worker. Ms. Hilda Mcguire might be more up your speed. She has worked here for close to a decade now and used to be the top of the ranks before [Y/N]. If you’re into the classic femme fatale who’ll sweep you right off your feet then I suggest scheduling a meeting with her.

Mmm . . . who next . . .

Oh Oh! If you’re up for even more spice in your life, might I direct you to our very own Orochi Kimura! The Yandere Lover. Signing up for them is a little tricky though. Buncha waivers regarding privacy and the lack thereof moving forward with his contract, possible missing peers and family members, bloody letters and what not.

Ah, you want something a little more tame?

Keisuke Abe is pretty rough around the edges. If you like a little excitement but not - well risk your life and all that. Keisuke is pretty fun to hang out with. Though the smell of alcohol in his dedicated room is quite nauseating. He’s great at bringing people out of their shells !

For guests with more expensive tastes, I recommend Junichiro and Nao. Jun is the perfect sugar baby for those whose time is little and wallets big. Give him a gift or two and he’ll be yours to use however you’d like. Nao on the other hand is for guests who love to be on the receiving end.

Tired of demure partners? Why don’t you try Masashi? Personally I wouldn’t hang out more than I have to with the grump, but surprisingly he’s quite popular with the folks here. Some people really do like getting insulted 24/7 huh?

On the other hand, if you like the definition of bland . . . er - shy. Well Haku, Hazu’s twin, should be right up your alley! He’s more of a listener than a talker, so he’s usually partnered with chatty clients.

Let’s get some estrogen back in for our last few introductions . . .

Hinata has to be my second favorite next to [Y/N]. She used to work as a regular old nurse both in and out of the club until Boss was looking for a potential replacement for the latter. Fortunately I heard that [Y/N]’s graduation was cancelled so they’re both available at the moment. As a host she’s pretty similar but with less of the formal speech and more of the motherly vibes, y’know?

Emi Ishii is a jack of all trades when it comes to the sibling-con types. May it be the clingy little sister or the big boobie- [cough] nice older sister, Emi’s got ya covered! A little warning though, that girl can talk for hours if you pick the little sister option. Even I got winded.

And last but not least, we have our general staff members. You might encounter us once in a while during your stays inside the club.

Our boss Mr. Melchior is basically as old as time at this point. I heard from Ms. Hilda that he’s been here since she started working ten years ago and he has not age a bit! He can be really, really scary when people break the rules . .

Ursa or what we usually call her, Bear, is in charge of security. Nothing gets past her sight. If you ever see a big bear mask and claws. Make sure you’re in your best possible behavior.

If you’re having scheduling problems or issues with how your host is acting, please contact either Akihiko Sugimoto or Mei Lan. They’re in-charge of human resources and management respectively.

A quick ring of a bell will alert Kin, our cleaner of any messes you’d like to have gone. He doesn’t exactly talk so don’t expect a conversation if you ever pass by him down the halls.

And last but not least, little old me! I man the desk 24/7. No rest for the wicked they say h a h a! You can call me Youko. I’ll be handling your documents, log in times, and what-not in addition to any questions you may have about The Guest is God.

You still need a bit more time to choose?

Once you’ve made a decision just give this number another ring. I’ll be right here to guide you along the sign-up process.

Hope to see you here soon, Mr. Eden Whitlock!

GUEST IS GOD REGULARS: [reply to be added to the taglist]

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witheredoffherwitch · 7 months

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Why do you find Alysmond compelling at all? After he's with Alys, he seems to lose all motivation. He betrays his family, and without thinking rushes after Daemon - ultimately resulting in his demise. It's strange for fans of Aemond to ship them together as it appears that Alys is the cause of Aemond's downfall.

Hi nonnie, thanks for being polite in the asks.

First of all, Aemond was spiralling long before he met Alys. He was famously declared a kinslayer - and therefore 'cursed in the eyes of both men and gods'. Aemond's actions not only jumpstarted the civil war, but also resulted in his own king to lose their heir --- AND left his queen on the brink of madness, ultimately costing their faction a skilled dragonrider. We see Aemond making it to Harrenhal only after he becomes Prince Regent... and by then much has passed - and in many ways, the claims of his role being his brother's greatest asset was somehow looking more and more dubious.

Many fans consider one of the Alysmond characters to be a 'victim,' and that may or may not be true. However, based on our observations of the show, it's unlikely that Aemond would take her by force. We can assume that Aemond is someone who has little to no interest in taking bedmates or lovers, and on top of that, we also learn that he was a victim of unwanted sexual advances when his brother took him to a brothel for his thirteenth nameday. This "we men have no taste for depravities" Aemond doesn't scream as someone who would rape or even coerce any woman into an unwanted sexual relationship. Moreover, his distaste for Aegon's proclivities further demonstrates why he initially sees his brother to be inferior or, in his own words, 'a drunken wastrel who's never taken half a interest in his birthright'. Instead, he is the only male in the Targaryen family to show any kindness and understanding towards women in his life - namely, Alicent and Helaena. Contrary to what many accuse him on this platform, Aemond's character has not once uttered any derogatory term against his half-sister. Instead, we have only seen two men using the word 'cunt' - and those two are Daemon and Criston!

Now coming to the subject of Alys - she is introduced as a bastard of House Strong. Many fans mistakenly think that all bastards are treated the same way as Jon Snow or Strong bastards. But there is little evidence to believe that Alys was 1) treated right by other members of House Strong, or 2) even considered a kin by her own blood. Bastards were considered shameful to any great house, and they served as reminders of the lords/ladies who had broken their marital vows by pursuing intimate relationships outside their marriage. It's a massive taint on their honor. In addition to that, Alys was a wet-nurse after having stillborns - and there is no evidence to suggest that she was anything more than a servant serving under House Strong. Furthermore, she was believed by many to be a witch which will not yield many positive engagements for her in this world of Westeros.

Thirdly, coming to the question of why I find them compelling - well, LOOK AT THEM! A kinslayer and his witch queen coming together to make a bloody mess in their way. These two are every gothic fan's wet dream. A bastard witch who is reviled by her own kin AND the kinslayer with a conqueror's dragon who is feared by many around him! Most Alysmond fans see these two people - who are an unlikely couple in every other sense - come together (for even a brief period) to relieve the loneliness that has plagued them both in their lives! And if we go by Aemond's characterisation in the show, the couple could be shown as two misunderstood characters who might seek solace in each other's company.. and can find a common ground as social outcasts. (This is obviously a speculation and should not be considered as a gospel truth)

Now the world of asoiaf is riddled with many problematic ships, however I would argue that Alysmond is definitely one of the tamer ones. Alys is older while Aemond is the prince, and although some say she groomed him, it should not be forgotten that in this very patriarchal world, he holds absolute power over her. Unlike his first sexual encounter, he is not only a willing partner but is believed to be the one who had initiated it. On the other hand, I have already reiterated why I believe Aemond may not be the kind to rape her; moreover, Alys is not shown as some hapless damsel without any choice -- she becomes his closest confidante, to the point that Team Black holds her accountable for leading him to his death!

At last, although you may think Aemond lost his entire purpose after meeting Alys and ended up 'betraying' his family, a lot of fans however believe that his purpose changed from beating Rhaenyra to protecting his family - which he did by standing up to Daemon. Although Aemond's death was a great setback for the Green faction, Daemon's death likewise eliminated the biggest obstacle for his family, Alys and their unborn child.

#aemond targaryen #alys rivers #alysmond #anon asks

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receival · 1 month

Text

castlevania, season 3 starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from the netflix original, castlevania.

oh, my god. i am losing my mind.

it’s only been a month. i think.

i think it might actually be a nice night, for once.

do you think we’ll make the next town before we lose the last of the light?

do we need to make more noise?

they need to hurry up. i’m hungry.

let them get in close and get confident.

oh, god, not this again.

i am certainly doomed. doomed, i say! i am defenseless and frozen to my seat with fear!

laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, (name)?

this will all be over in a minute.

what if i said i was sorry?

i’ve been promoted from “brain - damaged servant”, then.

it’s absolutely bloody chaos out there!

i want to get in a bath, for at least a day.

the plan couldn’t have gone more wrong.

you’ll be wanting a drink, then.

you do still love me!

it’s us against the world, (name).

has there been some apocalyptic development that i somehow slept through in the meantime?

time absolutely does move on, and, sadly, none of us is master or mistress of it.

they are somewhat, uh, broken.

did you kill it?

how do you know this?

they said they felt his death.

does that offend you?

it’s time for you and yours to move along now, (name).

what the hell was that?

oh, dear. what a shame.

not until i feel a little safer here.

you killed that bastard thing. you get one free.

that is better than sex.

i do hope you sleep well tonight, with my tiny, icy foot shoved all the way up your —

and you know the smell of hell?

are you breathing, betrayer?

i was spoiled by a single act of kindness in this city. and so i attempted to be reasonable, honest, and peaceful. this was against my better nature.

it was stupid to expect anything other than hate from you.

i keep making the same mistake. i should know better.

then why are still talking to me?

do you know what annoys me about it the most? it’s a really good idea.

maybe we could just torture him until he does what he’s told.

i suppose i’m awake now.

good boy.

what a formidable beast you are.

uh … who the hell are you?

you are practically the jesus of murder.

i have no idea what’s happening right now.

and … what do you want in return?

what interests you so much about hell?

i will not be hunted.

if i wanted him dead, i would have aimed higher.

i am not “the” anything.

you’re better than i thought.

you will have to unlearn much of what you know about the world and take on more than you ever imagined.

i think my mother would approve.

now we are not alone.

i suppose we could take a break.

ah, you’ve gone insane.

you could have told me that yesterday.

well, now i want to know how you’re even alive.

the place is apparently full of lunatics.

what do you need to know?

they just looked … well. broken.

i’m not looking at you, (name).

you like looking at me.

do you partake of alcohol?

it’s not pain as you understand it.

i’m too angry. i cannot find myself.

i cannot pray. i cannot see god.

he was confused. he was grieving.

it is a skill, learned over many years.

through my hand, god lifts the damned from hell in his mercy to enact their penance on the earth as my soldiers.

well after you’ve had your blood, what will you do then?

i’ve been cruel. it’s a cruel world. maybe we do all deserve to die — but maybe we could be better, too.

revenge is good. bastards need punishing.

vampires. you like to play with your food.

sorry. it must look like blood, mustn’t it?

i seem to have some roasted chicken in here. i’m afraid there are no maggots on it — i can call the guard and ask him to get you some sprinkles.

we enjoy all the good things of life. it’d be silly not to, wouldn’t it? otherwise, well, why live forever, if you’re not going to live well?

why live forever, if you’re not going to live well?

it’s alright. i’m not here to cause you any more harm.

let’s just have something to eat, and talk.

well! wasn’t that fun!

i’m a diplomat, (name). i make peace. and because of that, people think i’m soft. people think i’m weak. you won’t make that mistake again, will you?

fetch!

don’t look at those.

how long have you been here on your own?

tell me i’m wrong.

i admit it, alright? it’s been amazing. but i also remember how hard it was to get here.

i wish you’d stop talking to me like i’m insane, (name).

we wear the mark of hell?

i confess i had doubts about you.

enough. move away.

quietly confident people are competent and careful. nervous people make mistakes.

i’d rather they were nervous than happy in their work.

stop pretending that this is anything other than what it is.

it’s not poisoned.

let’s talk about what you would like.

i — i don’t understand the question.

i wasn’t necessarily looking for a reward.

so, you would have died with your boots on.

but what if you’re lying to me?

oh, i don’t have to lie to you. i have no interest in faith. faith makes for terrible diplomacy.

i like the sound of your voice.

i mean, look at you. beaten down a dozen different ways, and you don’t give up on yourself.

what a monster i have become.

i cannot believe this is happening again.

why do i keep doing the same thing and expecting a different result?

am i mad?

what the hell are you doing with your life?

what the actual hell are you thinking?

you weren’t following me, were you?

somebody always needs something.

places have a strange way of catching back up with you.

and you know it wasn’t there yesterday?

oh. that’s worrying,

i want to see how good you are when it comes down to a blade.

i’m developing a taste for the rougher things in life.

i do not trust people, generally.

who did you lose?

a bird might think your penis was a twig and fly off with it.

good boy.

the thing is, (name), humans forget things. vampires don’t.

you have a lot to learn.

so dramatic. relax and enjoy the night.

alright, i admit it. that’s fantastic.

is this a trick? am i dreaming?

i had a feeling you might find it interesting.

can i see you tomorrow night?

that’s a depressing thought.

i hope i love long enough to find out how it ends.

we — we shouldn’t be … here.

take my hand! please!

i’m sure there must have been a time when i had nice dreams.

do you remember who you were?

i think it was a long time ago.

i gave up others so that i may live.

thank you for my second life.

it will take a very long time, and there are more important things to do.

i’m not going anywhere, (name).

it’s a little more complicated than that.

not an obvious thing to find in a church.

i don’t see why this would excite you so.

i fail to see why this should interest me.

you’re alone here?

i smell you.

i see you.

i’m just not as strong as i was.

there are worse things than betrayal.

i’m a simple man with simple pleasures.

oh, i do like meeting a professional killer.

keep a civil fucking tongue in your head when you’re addressing me, (name).

you can’t keep me here.

i can’t believe i tried to be nice to you.

why are you still awake?

can you not keep it down?

well, now i definitely need a drink.

he’s holding things back from us.

can it be after i’ve had a nap?

i’m not lazy. i conserve my resources for important

efforts.

i feel as if i’ve been led here.

we’re doomed.

i don’t have enough information yet.

i seem to have missed that epic part of your plan.

you’re being … kind.

alright, alright. no need to make a production out of it.

i’m simply not used to people being kind to me for no reason.

there’s not something you’re not telling me?

has night fallen already?

you didn’t hear me enter.

i’m presuming there’s some disturbing reason for that and i will regret asking.

so now we’re not all monsters?

diplomacy is compromise.

i get something, you get something.

i have all the power, and you’re a pretty man in a box.

i’m — i’m pretty?

i’ve been awake all day thinking about it.

i want to be let out.

that would be a direct betrayal.

you’d survive less than a day on your own.

i would die almost immediately.

uh, that wasn’t what i was expecting to hear.

i think we’ve made a terrible mistake.

god is no longer in that house.

sleep, you idiot.

maybe i should get a coffin to sleep in.

tell me you’re mine.

i’m yours.

tell me you belong to me.

i belong to you.

what the fuck is that?

i may have been on my own for too long.

another hopeful idea that died in its sleep.

(name), do you have my back?

you’re already dead.

why? why would you tell me this?

all this death and horror for that leech?

show me what i want to see, you fucking bastard!

i gave you everything.

the world is not against you.

i am not against you.

i never lied to you.

i just want to know what’s behind that door.

this could not have gone more wrong.

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp ask meme #rp prompts #ask memes #ask prompt #sentence starter meme #sentence starters #inbox memes #roleplay memes

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