#like it. it implies they have the power of time travel.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

So... SKs...

I need to talk about my positioning on the Zenix/Vylad/Malik Death thing too because i may have changed that opinion a teeny bit with a tiny bit of speculation... but i digress. that'll be another post, i'm just warning you that the yap travelling circus is coming to your city

anyways

SKs!

tw, this is discussions about SKs, and so will be talking about themes involving death, torture, and manipulation.

Lore about Sks really becomes defined after Laur becomes one, because he's a major character and it really makes sense that way, but we do get a lot of lore even before he becomes a recurring character, really. Especially through Zenix and the storylines adjacent to him. I really do think that Sk lore was peaking when Zenix was one of the major antagonists for the series, because it was just very interesting to have to explore that he was experiencing it away from the main storyline, and Aphmau would have to make an active effort to understand and build that knowledge, and even as she is starting to know more she is still kind of in denial that he is capable of the things he is doing.

And this becomes especially interesting that she is learning this through other people, when we compare it to what Zenix himself says about being a Shadow knight.

SKs have been around since episode one, maybe not in the way they were later developed to be, but the idea of this little band of antagonists that follow 'The King' and want lords dead, and are stunting villages, and we don't really know why except for monarchism. And as we build upon our knowledge over the episodes we find out they don't live in an active monarchy, but that the King is some supernatural force, and that the little band of villains are too, and they're trying to bring him back.

And then we get, in episode 31/32, that not all SKs are guards, and they don't only kill lords. Of course, the baker is only a knight in training, but the idea remains. The following of the King is ideological, they don't only recruit guards off of some need for the bond between lords and guards, they will recruit whoever is willing to do what they want, kill who needs to be killed.

In fact, the first time we ever really get the guard/lord talk in regards to Shadowknights is in episode 35, by Zenix. Zenix seems to have this idea that Guards and Lords are intrinsically connected, that the life of one is dependant of the death of the other, and there is always this idea that guards are expendable and so they are the ones to die and the lords live. However, if the guards kill the lords instead, they become the King's loyal servants, blessed with power, with immortality.

He cannot be killed like when he was human.

This is the origin of the idea that Sks are not only immortal, but have to kill the one they love most to transform into that immortal state. And it's not exactly what he's saying. He's saying that guards are always expected to die for their lords, but then the King tells them 'hey you kill your lord, i'll let you live forever' and then they're like 'oh neat' and kill their lords to gain that immortality and power.

I understand how this little rant of his later turned into that lore, but i think the implications here are much more interesting. Again, he says 'No one can touch me! No one can kill me like when i was human' and whilst you can take that to mean that he is no longer mortal, it also kind of reads like he has been killed or at least severely harmed before before... which has been implied by Azura earlier on, and sort of himself in the same conversation, where he says 'Garroth told you... didn't he? How he found me?' 'I wasn't in such good shape then either.' What this all overall implies upon SK lore is that the King preys upon victims to find followers, he takes those who have been victimised before, and he offers them the chance to not have to suffer that way again, they just have to do as he tells them to.

It's not some urge they cannot shake off, it's not this feeling deep inside of them that they cannot remove. They have been hurt they have been offered to not have to never be hurt again. It's a choice, through and through, but in the same way it isn't. It's not this primal hunger for blood, so much as a scrabbling for survival, it's fear, and desperation, it's a needing to not suffer through that trauma again and so they say yes. They say yes, because they will do these awful things because it's better to do bad to others than them do bad to you.

Later lore has them do these things because Shad has taken their bodies, and brought them back, changed their memories and given them the urge and the want to kill. He preys on victims because he can only turn those in his clutches into Knights. Earlier lore has him turning people by ideology, he is preying on those who he knows are already vulnerable, he is not limited by scope of domain, but merely by how convincing he can be. And that is terrifying.

Guards aren't killing lords because they need to kill who matters most to them, because they can't stop themselves no matter how much they try.

they're doing it because he told them to.

[novelconcepts]

Genuinely, if there was going to be one nom, it had to be this one. The casting is off the charts. (Shout out to Lynskey and the show as a whole also being nominated, but like. This casting. I will never be over it.)

[inkskinned]

i think probably magic is real.

the thing is that i was a teacher for a long time and sometimes i come back to this moment in the classroom where a 7 year old asked me are mermaids real? and i stared at her and had no idea how to answer.

for a really long time i just assumed that glow-in-the-dark paint/etc was a result of something made in a lab. i just recently found out that a specific mine in new jersey that just has rocks that do that naturally and it sent me for a loop about stuff.

because first of all - let's be honest, all of us: if there was going to be a naturally-occurring location for uv-activated glow-in-the-dark rocks? it would have to be in New Jersey. that's just the place that makes the most sense for that to happen. probably 10 thousand years ago cavemen were like. "oh this place is gonna be new jersey one day. this has new jersey energy."

the rocks only glow in the presence of uv light and are otherwise just normal rocks. in lord of the rings, there's a special sword that glows in the presence of orcs. it is magic, except that's a real thing that exists (and exists, as we have discussed, in new jersey, of all places). i guess maybe this implies orcs give off uv light.

yeah, okay. magic is just science. i know all the stuff about how ghosts are probably just caused by vibrating pipes. i knew about how there's a reason-for-all-of-this. but what do you mean that there's rocks that give you poison damage if you touch them. what do you mean that we live on the same planet as electric eels. what do you mean that a battery just, like - stores power?

and i don't know. in 20 years maybe they will find a mermaid but they will say something like well she's technically not a mermaid she's this other species, she has whiskers and not hair. and i will have to travel back in time and tell a 7 year old not technically, but there's something that is like a mermaid.

and she will look at me and think that what i am saying is science means magic isn't real and what i am actually saying is science is our word for why magic works. and then i will teach her about uv rocks, and new jersey. i will tell her to be a scientist, which is the same thing as being a wizard. there is probably a reason why sci-fi and fantasy are often grouped together. it is very lucky to be here, i think. if you squint, the improbability of it all - it does kind of feel like spellwork.

[muninnhuginn]

wait i can steins;gate these time travel mechanics

[lennythereviewer]

My favorite Kingdom Hearts fact is that one of the biggest plot-holes that Nomura has never been able to meaningfully retcon or write his way out, a plot-hole so big that it fundamentally breaks the very rules the series is written on...

Is the existence of Steamboat Willie

Let me explain for the uninitiated:

In Kingdom Hearts 2, there’s a small detour in the story involving Maleficent trying to invade Disney Castle, the home of King Mickey. She can’t step foot in the castle due to an artefact of pure light that wards off darkness locked in the basement.

Pete, who is working for Maleficent, opens a door into the past (Before Disney Castle, this land was known as Timeless River) and decides to remove the artifact from it’s place in time so it won’t be there to stop them from getting in.

Sora, Donald, and Goofy chase Pete into the past thanks to another magic door provided by Merlin, and through some shenanigans involving old cartoons and teaming up with Pete’s past-self, they lock the door the villains are using, and return the artefact to it’s proper place so it can exist in the present.

You with me so far? Pretty straightforward-ish time-travel plot right?

Here’s where it goes off the rails.

Time travel would go on to become a staple of Kingdom Hearts going forward and would come with a very strict set of rules over how it operates:

1. You can only travel to a point in time where a version of yourself exists

2. You basically give up your body to do so, and travel as a disembodied soul unless you have a vessel to inhabit

3. You can’t alter the past in a meaningful way, what’s going to happen will happen

4. You lose your memories of said trip once you return, but your actions could leave a lingering instinct on your other self that could influence their decisions

“Wait” you may be thinking “Why should anyone go through all those hoops? Wasn’t time travel super simple that first time?”

And you’d be totally right, because the existence of Timeless River completely renders all of these rules and restrictions meaningless. 

There is no version of Sora that existed in Timeless River before he step foot there, everyone kept their bodies, the trio and Pete were able to mess with the timeline as freely as they pleased, and they all very much remember their trip. 

Nomura has never been able to meaningfully explain this super simple, easy way of time travel and the more convoluted method co-existing other than a cheap-throwaway line from one of the villains saying that Merlin “broke the rules” 

The hilarious part about this line is that it implies that PETE of all characters is actually more powerful than the actual villain of the series, because Pete opened a door into Timeless River through sheer willpower and nostalgia for “the good old days”

But the all-knowing chess-master of a villain who had an evil plan several decades in the making with countless moving parts and contingencies to account for had to use the roundabout, more complicated method of time travel where a lot could go wrong.

Pete though? Dude just casually broke all the rules of time travel because he felt like it. He's just built different.

TL;DR: Steamboat Willie breaks Kingdom Hearts lore in half, Pete is more powerful than Master Xehanort, and I fucking love this beautiful trainwreck of a series you guys it means so much to me

I love Kingdom hearts so much.

[pearlywritings]

Sometimes the name doesn't matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 2

pairings: Capitano, Kaveh, Tighnari, Zhongli x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort; hybrids, unwelcomed courting, kind of female objectification (all in Tighnari's part)

word count: 6.9k+ words

a/n: part 1 can be read here!

Capitano

Fast elegant fingers of a pianist run across the keys of black and white and the violins in the hands of other musicians are there to serve together with the chorus of beautiful voices, selected by Lady Columbina personally. The music infiltrates the souls of the nobles present, filling them with the sense of grandeur and glory, touching even their harsh unfeeling hearts.

The atmosphere of the gathering is gratifying, would’ve even been endearing if not for the stately figures of the Harbingers standing on both sides of the throne, where the Tsaritsa would've been seated had she not decided to refrain from attending it altogether. She has more important matters to take care of, and nine of her most loyal servants can definitely fill in her place on that yearly event.

Sure, this year it is more important since the two Harbingers are missing and the seats stay vacant - it's been the talk of the nation. Who is going to be nominated? Can it be influenced? Will they claim the names today?

Is the mysterious Commander, whose arrival became the topic of multiple speculations, be the one? A fierce warrior many heard of, but almost none saw face to face. The man was believed to be as powerful as the 11th Harbinger or maybe even the 10th! Having an army and an establishment of his own on the farthest line of the Snezhnayan border, he still is under the command of Lord Capitano, which makes it even harder to fish any more information than what is already known to the public.

"I only heard about him. He and his troops are protecting our borders from the monster's invasion in the North."

"Ew, who would've wanted to live in the North! It's much harsher than all the Snezhnaya."

"Shush, the Commander is wealthy and respectful, you can bear some cold."

"What do you imply?"

"The Commander is unmarried, there is no way he isn't, not with a life like this. But it can always be changed, and the woman he takes as wife would be one of the luckiest ones!"

"You are right… Maybe he is actually handsome. Maybe he'd be even willing to buy a whole mansion for his promised one and not take her with him to that awful place. Maybe…"

Maybe, maybe, maybe. It travels through the crowds like a storm in its wake, eventually reaching the Harbingers, who, for the first time after appearing and greeting the already arrived, stop resembling the statues. Eyes shift among the people and each other; some gazes hold interest, some - annoyance. Only Pantalone has an ever present smile on his face, fingers clasped in front of him and sapphire rings sparkle in the ballroom light.

"Looks like Capitano's estimated soldier caught everyone's attention. My, my, how curious and nosy the people can be…"

"I understand the curiosity though," admits Childe, arms crossed to prevent laying even a finger on his blade, that is resting on his hip. "This person sounds like an interesting specimen… I've heard of his talents in both strategy and tactics, and it seems like his strength is a legend. I'd love to spar with him."

"Oh you, thinking only about fights, young man," Pulcinella disapprovingly shakes his head and raises his cane to point in the gingerhead's direction. "I highly doubt our guest will have time to spare, considering the period of time concerning the stay that was mentioned in the letter we received."

"And I believe the majority of that time would be spent with Il Capitano, isn't it right?" Columbina's soft voice must be drowning in the music, but everyone hears her loud and clear.

"..." The Harbinger stays silent and nothing can be read from his body language since he is the only one remaining still in his place, his huge looming figure resembling one of the full-set armor nobles like putting in their halls as a part of interior. Except this one isn't empty.

"So much potential to become my test subject, to be perfected... Yet lost to the lands of Northern regions," Dottore huffs in disappointment, his sharp teeth peaking when he clicks his tongue. "Say, Pierro, can't things be rearranged? I'd happily have our dear border protector as my underling."

The silence between the nine suddenly becomes thick. There is something indescribably tense in the air and only Childe can't understand why some of his colleagues seem to be more interested in how the Captain would react and not the 1st of the Harbingers..

"You know why this can't be rearranged, Dottore," the stare of an icy blue eye would pin everyone to the ground, destroying their will and order to obey, though doing little to scare the Doctor. "And it was favored by the Tsaritsa herself."

The finality of the short statement makes the scientist back down from the proposition he's been bringing up every time the topic touches the Commander, yet ending up the same way as always - with an ultimate rejection.

Three heavy thuds make everyone in the room fall silent. Many heads turn to look at the ceremonial staff hitting the floor the last time and staying still in the hand of a tall, thoroughly dressed man.

"The protector of the Northern border, the glorified and esteemed warrior of Her Majesty Tsaritsa, The Commander has arrived," the master's of ceremonies voice carries like a thunderclap, cutting off the quite leisurely music the orchestra was playing for the dances and entertainment.

The rustle of note sheets is fleeting and not a moment later the musicians straighten in their seats, taking a deep breath. Trumpets boom in a spacious room and make nobles shiver in surprise, some especially susceptible women even lean on their partners for support. The choir and the violins join the triumphant song the brass instruments sing, signaling that the time has come.

Everyone holds their breath as the tall heavy doors leading to the ballroom are being pulled open. Everyone has their gaze glued to a slowly growing gap. Everyone keeps their eyes wide open, afraid that even one blink can cost them missing the legendary sight.

Everyone gasps.

The tall figure enters, posture straight and shoulders squared, confidence evident in every step. Black satin clothes are adorned with golden chains and intricate patterns. The white military coat stayed resting on the shoulders - showing off the position, the closeness to the Harbingers. And then there is the face - a scar crossing the left brow, calm bored eyes, not sparing anyone a glance, which do not fit the other female features of your face.

Yes, the Commander happens to be a woman.

Stopping by the steps leading to the throne, you bow - not kneel, bow, - holding your open palm by the heart and respectfully closing your eyes. Music stops.

“Greetings, my lords. Let Tsaritsa bless you and your mission.”

“Let Tsaritsa bless you and your service to her,” Pierro says, raising his hand. “Lift your head,” which you do, looking him right in the eyes, yet still holding your hand by the chest. “There is time for duties and there is time for entertainment. And tonight, given your rare visits to the capital, I suggest you enjoy the latter.”

“Much obliged, Lord Pierro.”

And with a wave of the older man’s hand, the orchestra starts a new composition, waking up the ones who were in a daze, reminding others they are here for drama.

And the first one to take action is the 11th Harbinger.

“Commander, Sir- I mean, Lady?” The gingerhead is the closest to you out of all his colleagues, having only to descend a few steps to be on your level. “I’ve heard a lot about you, many admirable things. How do you look at sparring?”

“Right in the middle of a ballroom? Quite positively, young man,” your lips twist in a half-smirk, baring a sharp pearly canine. “But I believe the nobles have already had enough shock to take and rumors to create. Maybe another time. Haven’t seen you before though. Are you new?”

“Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, Lady Commander.”

“Ma’am would be enough,” you click your tongue, glancing behind and noticing how slowly, but surely some of the aristocrats are inching towards you, clearly interested in conversation, Well, you are not. “On second thought, starting a duel right now and here doesn’t sound like a bad idea…”

“I’ve always known you are quite insane,” Arlechino butts her way in the conversation, giving you only a small nod as a greeting. You simply glance at her.

“For years I’ve been hearing of my insanity, think of something new,”

“How about, ‘the one who knows no limits’?” Pantalone’s smile is as dazzling as it’s fake and sometimes your hands are itching to strangle the man. Maybe even go all the way out and bite his head off. Literally.

“The only ones who know no limits are the wind and the stupidity. I’m neither. Who I am though,” your gaze travels higher, to the steps closest to the Tsaritsa’s throne, to there Pierro and the first three Harbingers are standing, “is a wife. And I’d like to have a dance with my husband.”

Not many heard your words, but the ones who did, gasp loudly, staring at you with wide eyes. Which get even wider when Il Capitano, a seemingly motionless statue before, turns in his place and, without a pause, steadily descends to you. Now, as you are standing so closely it becomes evident how obviously your outfits match. The chains, the patterns, even the precious stones - everything. Perhaps it is terrifyingly cute. Perhaps it's cutely terrifying.

“Husband,” your smile again, offering him your hand, which he immediately envelopes in his big clawed one.

“Wife,” is the first word the big figure rumbles for the evening, the void of its helmet staring at you. And that’s all you speak to each other, hearing the beginning of another melody and turning to join the dancing pairs.

“...What was that?” Childe voices what’s been plaguing the minds of the attendees. “First the Commander appears to be a woman, and now she is married to the Lord Il Capitano?” He glances at Pulcinella, who joins his side and decides to watch the pair that caused a commotion have their fun. “Do they not use their names?”

“They find no sense in them,” the Rooster answers just the last question. “And,” he lowers his voice and the ginger has to bend down to hear the next words, “I didn’t tell you that, but the Captain really loves calling her his wife. So be quite cautious while seeking a fight with her. You might end up impaled. By either of them.”

Kaveh

With a soft smile you watch a group of children merrily leaving their classroom, interrupting each other in attempts to tell everyone how exciting the lesson was. They do not forget to grin and wave at you, passing by, and you return the sentiment, contently observing their happy faces and sparkly eyes.

Every time this happens, a strange sense of fulfillment overtakes you - supporting and sponsoring Kaveh was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. The greatest architect of nowadays is offering his guidance to the young generation, teaching them everything about beauty and practicality, helping them to develop their own creative vision, and at the same time boosting the confidence of kids of all ages. And you couldn’t be prouder of him.

Him, who meticulously prepares for every single lesson. Him, who is oh-so-gentle with his words and precise in his speech. Him, who teaches both Sumeru citizens and people coming from abroad. Him, who is as passionate about it, as he is about his designing job, telling you every single detail of how the lessons went on your way home or over the dinner. Him, who is happy and who makes you happy too with that fact alone.

When the last kid leaves, marking the ending of the final class for today, you glance at the clock. Now Mister Meticulousness will need half an hour to tidy up the classroom and put all the tools away. Tomorrow is free from classes at his (he always corrects your as in the both of you) school, so you can collect your stuff as well - after all, being the manager of this establishment and Kaveh specifically requires your presence. You can be strict and unyielding whenever he can’t and this partnership proves to be successful every day.

Just as you are writing down some financial staff, there is a soft knock on the doorframe. Immediately lifting your eyes you hum, observing a very good-looking woman and a boy, shyly holding onto her hand.

“Hello, how can I help you?” With a quill laid on top of your accounting book, you stand and round the table, offering the two to step closer.

“Ah, hello, miss…” eyes with long, pretty lashes flit to the name tag attached to your clothes, “...Y/n. This is master Kaveh’s artistic school, am I correct?”

“Yes, you are. Are you here to sign your boy up for a class?” You offer her son a sweet smile and he answers you with a small lift of his lips.

“Mhm. You see, he is a big fan of master Kaveh and his works - can study the pictures of his designs taken by Kamera day and night.”

At that, the boy lowers his gaze and blushes a little, digging a hole in the ground with the tip of his shoe.

“Oh, really?” A gasp that escapes your chest is one of excitement. “That’s marvelous! I am sure your hopefully soon-to-be-teacher will be very interested in hearing your opinion of his works, young connoisseur,” he giggles, lifting his eyes at you again, and there you see undisguised delight. “Oh, but my bad, I didn’t ask your names…”

The woman’s lips bare two rows of perfectly white teeth as she smiles at you, introducing herself and her son.

“We are from Fontaine actually. But my parents wanted to spend some indefinite period of time in Sumeru for their health and we decided to join them. So while we are here, I thought I’d make my son’s dream come true.”

“That’s so nice of you,” you can’t help but admire her a little for that. “I can tell you first a little about our school, you’ll ask all the questions you need to, and then I’ll show you around. Kaveh should be done with cleaning by then, so there’s a big chance you’ll even talk to him personally.”

“Really!?” That’s the first time throughout your entire interaction when the boy opens his mouth and actually makes a sound. “Master Kaveh is here right now?”

“He is. But can’t promise a long conversation - there are still blueprints waiting for him back at home.

“Ah, right… He is the great architect after all,” the woman hums, staring to the side as if in thought. “Between the commissions he takes and this school he must be making good money. Not to mention so handsome…”

Oh… What a familiar tone, what a familiar look in those eyes. Suddenly that ounce of respect you felt for her disappears.

“Money is irrelevant to him as long as he reaches his goal,” is your restrained response. 

“Ah, of course! Handsome, sweet, kind, good with kids and is not a snob. Sweety, you ought to charm him for me!” She pinches her son’s cheek. “Imagine Master Kaveh as your daddy!”

Oh Archons, again?

There is absolutely no doubt that the light of Kshahrewar is not only well-known and popular among kids, but is thirsted after by women. In a half of a year your school has been existing, there were numerous times when moms of little students made comments alike or some single females trying to schedule private sessions with the architect. What a sagacious decision it was to make group studying only, it saves you some drama, once the legal document is shown. Though there are exceptionally persistent examples…

But this time you pity the kid a little, because he genuinely seems to admire Kaveh. And his next words make you internally cheer for the little guy.

“Master Kaveh as my dad? But mom, I have a dad already,” the boy pouts, rubbing at the pinched cheek. You notice a red mark and two little crescent moons that her nails left on a tender skin. “I love him and don’t need another one.”

“Sweety, you just don’t understand how great it would be to have such a dad! Just trust my word-”

“Ahem, Madame, I kindly ask you to deal with your family affairs once you are out of here. As for the school - I am open for discussion.”

The displeased way she glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed, but you do not show it anyhow, calmly staring back at her, while your hand reaches up to your chest. As if finally remembering her initial reason for coming here with her son, the woman sighs and puts a palm on the boy’s shoulder.

“Of course, miss- I’m sorry I forgot your name…” And her eyes flit to the name tag again.

Momentarily the woman squints from the light reflecting on the metal, and when she blinks the bright spots away, there is a beautiful golden ring on your hand. The hand that is holding the flipped tiny plate with just two words engraved in it.

"Kaveh's wife"

With widened eyes she stares back at your sweetly polite smile. Not saying a word as if letting the notion sink in, you walk to the wall. Grabbing the backs of two chairs you drag them to your table so they could sit, and take your rightful place in front of them. 

“If you are here for something aside from or instead of signing your son up for classes, I believe my name should be irrelevant to you. My status though,” you knock a nail twice on the badge, “must. So… what are you here for, Madame?”

The boy climbs onto his chair right away, while his mother tarries a little, still shocked by the revealed fact and your suddenly changed demeanor. She needs a couple more seconds to compose herself, but eventually she too sits down.

Despite what happened earlier, your conversation proves to be fruitful and fifteen minutes later you are showing around the school, sharing some additional information and answering every single of the kid’s questions. 

When in the last room you find your husband, closing Mehrak and looking ready to leave, the boy lets out a gasp. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and he turns to the three of you with a soft smile.

“Oh, hello there, little guy!” The blond waves at him, breaking the blissful stupor of a child that immediately turns red and hides behind his mother. Surprised, Kaveh looks at you for explanation but, instead, takes notice of your name’s replacement. Oh wow, this again. What was the last time you did that? Two weeks ago?

“Ah, Master Kaveh!” The woman charmingly smiles, batting her lashes at him, which would’ve made you cringe had it never happened before. “You see, my son-”

“Pardon me, Madame, give me a moment,” the male softly interrupts her and reaches for a similar metal plate on his chest with his own name to flip it. It’s almost comical how sour the temptress’s face got in a second.

And there is what for. Now two words are proudly matching yours, engraved in an equally beautiful cursive to remind the world who the two of you become once stripped of your names.

Just his ”Y/n’s husband” to your “Kaveh’s wife”.

And like that one more kid takes part in your lovely school and one suitor less is after one of its founders.

Tighnari

With each passing day of your team’s research in the desert you found it harder and harder to control yourself. Some days you were even on the verge of clawing and biting, tail and ears twitching in annoyance and pupils turning into wild slits, making your hybrid nature more obvious.

Was it because of the research? No, it couldn’t be farther - your colleagues have been making so much progress, heeding your advice and following your lead. Was it the location perhaps? A little, but you learnt how to deal with heat and dryness. Was the process taking too much time? On the contrary, you are on your way home already, having finished the job 4 days earlier than you estimated in the beginning.

Then what on earth could possibly trigger you like this?

Well…

“Hey, forest foxy, want me to catch the Consecrated Flying Serpent for you?”

Ah yes, him.

Never again will you trust the higher ups at the Akademiya to sponsor your team with the bodyguards. Out of every possible candidate, your Herbad-titled colleague concluded that hiring five descendants of Valuka Shuna would be a marvelous idea. 

“They are the desert kind - they’ll be good guides.” “Look how much stronger they are, they’ll definitely protect all of you.” “They are of the same kind as you, Y/n. Don’t you think it’ll be easier for you, as the leader, to have someone akin with you?”

No, it absolutely would not!

Desert fennec hybrids are different from the forest ones - and it’s not even the case of your green and their sandy brown fur or their more brutal physique against your more delicate one. It’s their character and world perception. You’ll never call them barbarians, but they really developed more of the animal nature than your kind did.

And from day one it was a pain in the butt. 

One of your five new bodyguards was clearly the leader - he was bigger and broodier, with more scars littering his body, and his whole stance was screaming of a higher position. When you were introduced for the first time, something lit up in his grayish eyes, which were looking you over appreciatively. You ignored that, more focused on the discussion of the upcoming expedition and making sure the five were aware of what was required of them.

Luckily they were, and, admittedly, they did fulfill their task meticulously, proving to be great help. If only one of them wasn’t so diligent.

You lost count of how many times the leader tried to get into your personal space and you had to move away. Of the numerous invitations to hunt together. Of the endless displays of his strength and abilities. Of the many conversations you didn’t even try to eavesdrop on (they talked pretty loudly) around the topic of when will your shell be cracked and you’d accept the male’s courting attempts.

The answer was obvious, but he just never got it. Even when you called him for a serious conversation on the turning-into-an-issue matter.

“With all respect I must ask you to stop with whatever you’ve been doing to woo me. I have a husband.”

You still remember how he blinked at you dumbly, clear lack of understanding written on the sun-kissed face.

“...and?”

“The heck do you mean ‘and’?”

“Well, you don’t have a mate?”

It was your turn to stare at him speechless, ear twitching and tail curling closer to your legs. It was getting worse than just ridiculous.

“If we are speaking in such terms, then my husband is my mate. So, please-”

You nearly gasped when the male immediately leant closely, violating your personal space and practically stuffing his nose against your neck. Shocked by such lack of shame, you lost the ability to talk or move for a moment, gaping at him sniffing around and humming upon the discovery.

“You don’t wear anyone’s smell on you.”

You were not proud of yourself at that moment, but you absolutely lost it. Sharpened claws dug into his chest and with an angry snarl you pushed him back.

“Get away from me!”

You must’ve been a sight - canines bared and fingers twitching, ready to attack; fur standing on both your ears and tail, signaling your distress and eyes slitted in pure rage while directed at the man in front of you. The worst part? The idiot seemed to like it even more.

“What me and my partner do must be of no concern to you. I told you ‘no’ and I mean it.”

But bold of you was to assume he’d stop. Oh no, it’s gotten worse. Now he was actively calling you a ‘forest foxy’, absolutely abandoning your name and even trying to scent you. It was suffocating - the desert aridity was lighter in comparison to the male hybrid’s pheromones. 

Never in all your academic practice have you wanted to return home so badly.

Fortunately, your colleagues quickly caught on to what was going on and always helped you to escape the unwanted interactions. Plus they were equally as mad as you were, because his individual scent irritated their human noses - and that was the main reason why you and Tighnari, both spending a lot of time around other people, did not practice it. Partly, you are sure, this whole situation was the reason for your earlier return - and you were grateful for their understanding.

However, your stubborn suitor did not dream of giving up. Killed desert animals were still offered to you, stories of his legendary battles with monsters were told for the hundredth time (even though no one was interested in listening at that point) and attempts to lure you with the musky smell once again made. Archons, and the green-furred fennec girls from your teens used to dream of that.

Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would be merciful and you’ll meet your husband somewhere on your way?

“Herbad Y/n!”

…wow, that was quick. Not Tighnari, but incredibly welcome too.

“Collei!” For the first time in days there is a reason for your soft smile. Which the young girl mirrors, waving at you from not so far away. You notice a couple more of the Forest Rangers at her side, and that sight alone makes you finally exhale in relief. You are so close to being home.

“Master is here too! Want me to get him?”

Oh, Dendro Archon, thank you.

“I’d really appreciate it, dear!” With a quick nod the green-haired apprentice disappears in the bushes, and you turn back to the scholars of your group. It’s time to abuse your power a little. “We are almost at the Devadaha Pool. Since all of you live in Sumeru City I hope you’ll excuse me for staying behind. As for you five,” your gaze moves to the bodyguards and it’s so hard not to rejoice - soon they’ll be just a memory, “I ask you to accompany the rest of my team to the Akademiya. Then you can consider your job done and be free. Keep the payment for the last three days that didn’t happen - think of it as a bonus for a good job.”

All but one eagerly nod and bid you farewell with wishes of getting home safely. And frankly speaking? You couldn’t care less for that one when you spot familiar and oh so dear big pointy ears with an intricate golden earring adorning one of them.

“Tighnari!” You didn’t want to sound so desperate, you really didn’t. But when those forest-like lovely eyes look in your direction, it becomes clear to you - the yearning has gotten unbearable.

“Y/n…” His smile is dazzling and the way his body immediately pushes to walk to you almost makes the memories of the last weeks’ events go away.

The key word - almost.

Someone grabs your elbow when you want to meet him halfway. Oh right, you already forgot about him.

“Let me go, you, imbecile!” And again you have to snarl and be rude, ripping your arm out of the strong hold and quickly darting into your husband’s embrace. The natural smell of the leaves, the flowers, the sweet and bitter concoctions he makes in his home laboratory, comfort you and your whole body goes nearly limp in his hold. It’s been weeks and you are tired of fighting with the brick wall - this time you want your lover to handle it for you.

“Y/n, my lotus, are you alright?” Gentle fingers comb through your hair and scratch at the base of your ears - a whole ass adult, that you are, wants to tear up. But you can only shake your head a no. “Has this man been bothering you?” This time it’s a yes. “I got you, dear.”

“So,” the browny green eyes sharpen upon staring at the cause of your current state, when it starts speaking, “you are that ‘husband’ the foxy has been talking about? I thought you’d be stronger. Or at least taller. Now I see that I was right and you really can’t be her mate.”

“Oh but I am. Not that we have to prove anything to a stranger. Y/n,” he carefully pries your face from his shoulder, caressing your cheek with a beanie pad, “let’s go home. You must be so-so tired.”

“I am, ‘nari. I am exhaus-”

“There’s no smell of you on her and vice versa,” the desert descendent of the Valuka Shuna seems to not be planning to stop. “Her neck is not marked. You let her wander by herself for weeks? And you keep calling her by the name. Her name should've stopped mattering once she became your mate!”

The hand around your waist tenses and you can feel the claws threatening to tear through the gloves he always wears. You don’t need to look at the face of your lover to know how pissed he is. And if Tighnari decides to attack him and tear his tongue out? You will not stop him.

“I am going to say it once and only once. She is not just a mate, she is my wife, by the Sumeru law and by the blessing of the Dendro Archon. And this fact must matter to you more than the case of her name. So fuck off and leave my wife alone. And if you don’t get it in a civil way - this woman is taken. And this territory is mine.”

With that, the Forest Watcher effortlessly lifts you in his arms and, holding you as if a precious bride, turns around to leave. You haven’t looked back once.

“You can’t imagine how much I missed being called your wife,” you quietly confess, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Especially after he didn’t listen when I said that I am.”

Tighnari hums sympathetically, leaning close to rub his nose against yours.

“Will it be okay then if today I address you as my wife only? When we join the other rangers, I mean.” 

”...if you think I will be embarrassed - make it a whole week.”

With a soft chuckle your husband plants a kiss on your lips, sealing the deal and promising you tranquil days at last.

“As you wish, wife.”

Zhongli

"...and so Rex Lapis takes the form of a dragon, a majestic creature he was born as - the one of whom the fair maiden would never be scared of. Lady Guizhong's robes flutter in the tender wind traveling among the mountain peaks and caressing the earthly scales of the God's enormous body. His eyes, shiny as gold, gaze at her with an unfamiliar softness as she holds a gentle flower - a delicate gift from her lover, the one that proves that under all that armor is a stone heart capable of love. Heart that is beating for her."

To loud applause the Iron Tongue Tian bows his head, drawing the legend of the gods in love to its end. You cannot bring yourself to clap even politely, both hands on your lap, hidden under the table, twitching when a man beside you lets his gloved palms meet each other a couple of times.

It’s the second time you had to sit and endure the baloney from the very beginning to the very end, not to count all those times you overheard it in passing. From the moment you settled in the Liyue Harbor together with your husband, to live the rest of your incredibly long lives together among the humans, you've been painfully aware of their interpretation of Rex Lapis and his relationship with other immortal beings. Before that you rarely accompanied him during the walks, busy with helping Yakshas and other adepti protect the said humans to grant them a peaceful life - as immortal guardians grew fewer, every single one counted.

Never have you ever imagined that knowing so little of the citizens’ folklore would backfire so hard. It seems that people got somewhat bored listening to the stories of Liyue and Rex Lapis, no matter how many interpretations existed. Literature became more diverse in genres and romantic novels were on top of the list, so street narrators started losing their audience little by little. Before it could grow into something more drastic the new side of history was presented to the public - stories about love among immortals appeared and its freshness and uniqueness caught people’s attention immediately.

In their searches for new material, speakers dug through hundreds of volumes. The main interest was the Lord of Geo, of course. If you have a story of a presumably stone-hearted creature ever having fallen in love with someone - that’s pure gold! But who could you present as a love interest of the Archon? It must be someone very close to him and, obviously, no one is more well-known for that than the deceased Archon of Dust.

You sigh, reaching for your cup and declining Madam Ping’s offer to pour you some more tea - for an unclear reason the fellow adeptus joined you two tonight. You have thousands of years of life behind your existence, a soul hardened by constant battles, and mannerism as polished as a jade statue, yet for a moment you feel concerned that the woman would notice a pang of hurt in the smallest of your features.

Zhongli definitely noticed the first time. It was meant to be a date night - simple, but sweet, with the evening lights, delightful aroma of the finest tea and the tales pouring from skilled tongues reflecting the atmosphere of what your nation really is. However, the luck of the land of trades wasn’t on your side, as someone requested the “Guili legend” as they called it. At first you were confused. Then in disbelief, almost turning to look at your mate, with whom you were bonded long before he became allies with the ash-haired woman. In the end you felt something you thought was beyond you - bitterness.

When you left the restaurant, slowly walking back to your house, Zhongli’s fingers gently touched your elbow, asking for your attention.

“Does it bother you that much, my love?”

Bother you? Well… It does feel insulting when someone speaks of your husband having been in love with someone else, but mortals can’t possibly know the truth for many reasons.

“I can’t say it doesn’t,” you admitted calmly, stopping and turning fully to him. He did the same, gazing at you with a hint of worry in those golden eyes you loved so much. The ones, you knew, always looked only at you. “But it can’t be helped, right? There was a reason and mutual agreement why you, as Rex Lapis, made our union unknown to your people, and now, since you are “dead”? There is no one to tell our story. Don’t worry though,” you put a hand on top of his and smiled, when his other one was laid on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. “I can deal with it. I know you love going to the storyteller’s performances. I’ll just try to ignore what they say about you and Lady Guizhong.”

Sometimes Zhongli thinks he does not deserve you. Ever so patient and understanding, you always had your husband's best interest at heart. Marriage, however, in its basis is a form of a contract, and a good contract is all about both sides being equal in everything. And if you must know one thing about Rex Lapis - he never makes bad contracts.

When the audience calms down, the man decides to make his presence and intentions clear by raising a hand. From the corner of his eye he notices you slightly turning your head to glance at him, and he catches a glimpse of puzzlement in your gaze. He can't help but think how adorable you are, even if you deny it again and again, claiming that nothing can be adorable about a several millennia-old warrior. Maybe not, but his wife definitely is, and he thinks with a primordial pride igniting in his chest, that mating with you was the best decision his past self had ever made.

Reaching under the table he rests his free hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it in reassurance, offering you the warmth of himself, seeping through his glove. Just as your shoulders relax to his delight, the raised hand adorned with rings is finally noticed.

"Ah, Mr Zhongli! Such an honor to see a regular, especially someone as wise as yourself!" Iron Tongue Tian beams with a wide smile, closing his fan and focusing his full attention on the history connoisseur. "I doubt you have questions, given your vast knowledge, and I can't wait to hear what else you can add to this already heart-felt story."

You force your lips not to twitch, hiding behind the tea cup again. Suddenly it tastes bitter. But another squeeze your husband gives your hand doesn't let you dwell on it too much.

"You are correct, I do have some knowledge to offer. However, it might disappoint you, as it will completely destroy the story of the Geo Archon and the Archon of Dust."

The whispers ran through the crowd like a powerful wave, and you can see confusion written over every single face. But also, there is intrigue.

"I took it upon myself,” Zhongli however continues, “to invite Madame Ping to back up my story, as she was the witness to it," the elder woman - a well-known Adeptus that doesn't hide her existence among mortals - nods with a soft smile.

"I read this in legends a long time ago, but remembered only when the 'Guili legend' became popular. Rex Lapis indeed had a lover, however it was not Lady Guizhong," the gasps are almost deafening. Just as your quickened heartbeat.

And for the next hour the man by your side and the elderly-looking woman that joined you tonight proceed to tell the story of the adeptus, who was the first and only to ever bring the Geo Archon to his knees, to be worshiped like a goddess by his eyes, by his words, by his very heart. Of a warrior, whose fierce eyes and valiant nature made a dragon in Rex Lapis roar in delight. Of the woman, who entranced him with her beauty, caring soul and motherly attention directed to other adepti - Madame Ping adds with a laugh of how the two created a parent-like dynamic even before they became official (at that you find it so hard not to turn bashful).

They tell the legend of the silk flowers - the ones you might see everywhere in the vast lands of Liyue. How the Geo Archon personally asked the Dendro Archon for guidance to cultivate the tenderest of flowers, how he taught his people to make the delicate fabric out of it, but even then it couldn’t compare to the skin of his immortal mate.

They tell stories of how annoyed she was when the god turned into a dragon to fall asleep somewhere in the depths of the earth for years without telling her prior, and how he returned with the purest stones and metals and with his own hands forged the pair of matrimonial rings (yes, the ones wrapped around your fingers to this day).

Madame Ping fondly speaks of all those thousands of years of protection the said adeptus spent to make sure that her godly spouse’s people were safe and maybe just a tiny sliver of pride rushes through your heart at the public acknowledgement.

“But she wished not to be known,” the woman sighs and you know she glances at you reproachfully. Well-deserved, given the circumstances you are in right now. “Thus it’s not much of a surprise people made a mistake like that. Besides, you won’t find much information in written sources about her either way.”

 “But she must have a name at least!” Someone from the fairly grown crowd exclaims.

“That she does,” Zhongli nods, lacing his fingers with yours under the table, lips tugging in a calm smile, when you squeeze his hand in return. “Though I am afraid it would be pointless to try and find out now - we wouldn’t want to disturb her mourning the departure of her husband, would we? After all, they must’ve loved each other so much.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“Because,” golden eyes are on you, catching yours, pulling you in, whispering for your soul and heart to get lost in them, “I can understand how this love was born and got to bloom. My wife showed me that.”

[flokali]

Hi!! I am brainrotting and cannot get it out of my mind, so I thought to share. A very simple thought.

Accolyte Zhongli. Very willing to please et cetera. But biting him? Like come on, biting a Dragon? Is it ownership? Is it playful bite? You know, the sudden urge to bite someone (or is it just me?). So biting a very willing Zhongli.

Sobbing. This will haunt me for a while.

Slight NSF_W

Thinking so many thoughts... happy belated valentines day every1 ><

Warnings: NB! Reader, yandere!Zhongli, SAGAU, implied Dom!Reader/Sub!Zhongli, unhealthy relationship dynamics, biting, soft-violence (?), possessive behavior, jealousy, ask to tag!

Dragons in Liyue are known to be loyal, fierce, and elegant; the stories always describe them as powerful beasts who are to be respected, with sincere hearts and wisdom beyond a mere mortal’s understanding.

In a way, such behaviors did translate to your acolyte, Zhongli. He was one of your oldest followers, not just in age but time serving you, over six millenia he has existed and can proudly state he’s worshiped you for most of it. You would think that the years would have mellowed him out, polished up the edges of his devotion, soothe the tempest in his heart into a much milder dribble, and yet – you knew very few of your acolytes who could rival the passion he seemed to hold towards you.

The relationship between you and all of your followers was strange, at least to you — going from a normal person to being worshiped as a God was not an easy process, much less in a world as different from your own as Teyvat was to Earth — however none were perhaps as strange as the relationship between you and Zhongli.

He is always at your side, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. At first, his insistence on being your attendant had been met with heavy resistance from the others but his stubbornness greatly overpowered their annoyance; no matter what rotation you were in, Zhongli was always by your side.

You knew of his vessel, Morax, the large dragon that he’d used to fake his death, and you knew that “Zhongli” wasn’t his true form – you just hadn’t guessed some traits would have seeped into the other form or maybe it was simply part of his personality.

He was possessive and overprotective over you, it was like an internal struggle between submission and the need to monopolize you was constantly going on in his head, yet he refused to outwardly admit it.

“I am simply concerned for you, Your Grace.” He’d say whenever you’d bring up his overbearing nature, considering that he and the rest viewed you as an all-powerful being, you’d think he’d have more trust in your ability to protect yourself. And yet, whenever he’s allowed, he’ll always attempt to deter you from leaving his side. At some point you realized it was probably for his sake rather than your own, but by then you had grown endeared to the man and decided to allow it anyway.

Even as your most loyal follower who you spent most of your days with, Zhongli had his quirks and habits about him that simply baffled you – no matter how many days you’d spent with the former Archon, there were just things he’d do and say that’d leave you questioning all you knew about him prior.

All you really knew about him before was reduced to what had been revealed in game, from the Traveler’s perspective and the NPC’s who’d speak about him. Meeting him and interacting with him quickly let you know that his personality, at least when directed towards you, was quite different from what you had assumed from your previous observations.

An example of such discrepancies was his obsessive need to please you.

The traditional Liyue clothes you once complimented him on? Most of his wardrobe has changed to include such attires more frequently. The hair accessory you bought him once when you traveled to Fontaine? You don’t think you’ve seen him without it since. That one time you complimented him when he wore warmer tones? It seems his closet has been rid of any other color.

It was unsettling if not a bit cute, who wouldn’t be a little bit flattered to know their opinion held such weight to a man such as Morax; but it was only a matter of time before it all escalated

Somewhere, at some point, your relationship with Zhongli changed – morphing into something more complex than you would have expected. You would soon wonder if he was classified more so as a lover or some sort of concubinus than a mere helper, his role as an attendant seeming more like a guise so he could spend his time with you each day.

Fleeting touches now lasted longer, the feeling of his hot gaze on you burned stronger with every passing moment, it was a natural escalation; kisses now were no longer restrained to the hand, they now landed on your lips, your cheeks, your neck, wandering hands found their home in your waist and the small of your back.

When he told you he loved you, you knew not if he spoke as a devotee or a lover.

It was during a heated make out session that you found out his weakness to being marked and claimed, much to your surprise. He’d been quite insistent on not leaving a single mark on your person, not a hickey or bite, you guessed it must have been a preference but never asked about it either. You decided that, for the time being, you would avoid the topic until it naturally came up - and up did it come.

You had been on top of him, sitting on his lap and caressing his hair as your lips danced with one another’s, his golden eyes were shut tight in pleasure as he let you use his lips and body as you wished. His hands rested on your waist, tightly gripping at your robes and skin as he desperately clung onto your body. Soft whines left his lips periodically, his breathing was quick and you could feel his heart beating where your chests met.

You playfully decided to trail kisses across his face, at first he whined when he felt the loss of your lips on his but he soon fell quiet – other than a few moans and whimpers – as you left open mouthed kisses into his skin and down his neck.

It’s there that, in the heat of the moment, you decide to bite his neck, leaving a small hickey on his flushed skin. His reaction is immediate; his head falls backwards, his whole body heats up and you feel something stiffen below you, his face burns a bright red as a loud moan escapes his lips. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin to a point you are certain it’ll leave a mark, and his heartbeat quickens; pleasure basically radiates off of his body the minute your teeth nib at his neck.

You stop, teeth sunken into his skin and hand tangled in his hair, his reaction so lewd and surprising you become flustered and stop dead in your tracks.

Zhongli, however, only pulls you tighter into his body, using a hand to press your face deeper into his neck, as if urging you to use more force in your bite – timidly you give in and nibble into his flesh, further deepening the imprint of your teeth in his skin. His whole body feels hot to the touch, his mind feels hazy, your soft bites into his skin send shockwaves through him.

You had no idea what you were doing to him, did you? Or else you wouldn’t have been so careless when picking the spot, but it doesn’t matter, in this moment of intense pleasure, the former Archon decides to give into delusion and believe you knew the meaning behind biting a draconic being such as himself — and in the neck of all places as well.

Old traditions dictate that a bite mark, especially in the jugular or neck, was a sign of ownership. It was often that mates would mark each other in the neck with enough force to leave scars, sinking sharp teeth into one another with ironic tenderness. It showed trust and care for the other, both to be marked and leave a mark, as it required vulnerability and care from both parties. It was a deeply intimate act, one that would be reserved to life-long partners and mates, it was a gesture of possessiveness and devotion tinted with love.

If he were to be honest, Zhongli would have thought himself to be the one to mark you instead of the other way around, it’d been something he’d often fantasized at night before your arrival, and yet, as he felt your — significantly duller teeth — bite into him he could feel his admiration and love for you grow as he became yours; even if you may not have known.

He’d always imagined himself on top of you, your naked form beneath him, as he sunk his canines into your flesh until he tasted your holy blood. He’d imagined himself cradling your pleasure stricken body while you moaned his name, a sinful sound coming from a divine being. Instead, it is himself that lays within your grasp, panting in ecstasy as he holds himself back from coming completely undone and showing a depraved side of himself even he did not know of.

If he was honest, he almost wishes you’d draw blood, sink your teeth so deep into his skin it breaks layers of flesh and leaves a deep scar that could never heal – a sign of your favoritism and ownership, one that he could proudly say was unique to him. If only you weren’t so careful with him, so scared of hurting him; he means no offense, but your current form is significantly weaker than his and he’s survived wars most have not heard of; even if you wanted to sink your nails into his skin and carve your name into his body, he thinks his strength and shear devotion to you alone would prove the pain to be nonexistent.

A gasp of your name leaves his parted lips, it’s erotic - the way his pink lips let a symphony of pleasured sounds - a wave of hormones rushing through his body, sending his brain into overdrive.

You look up at him, not having expected such a lewd reaction, but the sight of his half-lidded eyes as they burn into your own sends a hot-buzz down your spine. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bloodied as he bites them, his bare chest is heaving up and down; the expression on his face is orgasmic. His loose hair sticks to his forehead as sweat runs down his temples, clearly your gesture had taken quite an effect on him.

You slowly remove your lips from their spot, about to question his reaction - wondering if you’d perhaps crossed a line, but he stops you with a crooked smile and warm hands against the back of your head.

“It is okay, Your Grace,” he whispers, tongue darting to wet his drying lips, he guides your head back into his neck, “bite me all you want, my neck is yours for the taking.”

You giggle a bit at his eagerness, feeling his hard-on press against your ass. You playfully adjust yourself in his lap, softly nipping at his neck before biting down in a new spot.

“Ha-ah,” he moans once more, you feel him startle beneath you, “don’t be afraid to draw out blood, either… in fact, please, feel free to do so.”

He can only hope you take on the challenge, eager to flaunt your lovely bites to Neuvillette and any poor soul that even so much as thinks of questioning his position in your life.

[akunya]

“a humans touch.”

pairings: malleus draconia x m!reader

summary: you’re curious about malleus’s horns, so he lets you touch them.

tw: frottage (?), dubious consent, touching, implied age diff., size diff, etc. sfw.

notes: some food after a year.. thank you so much for all of the messages you’ve left me in the meantime. i can’t express how happy they’ve made me.

this is sfw, but i promise next fic will be filthy. enjoy!

“can i.. touch them?”

malleus’s head cocks to the side a little, a bit puzzled over your request. you and him were just lounging around the diasomnia dorm until you spoke up, breaking him out of his reading session.

“touch.. what exactly?” the fae questioned as he watched you moved closer to him, until you were staring at the top of his head. “oh, my horns? is that what you want to touch, child of man?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, closing his book and putting it on the coffee table. you nodded silently. sometimes, you were too adorable (in his eyes) for your own good.

“sorry if it’s a weird thing to ask! they just look so.. intriguing?” your voice trailed, trying to find the right words to describe his horns without offending the prince. “we don’t have many fae or dragons where im from.” malleus smiled fondly. he nodded before leaning down. he was much taller than you, with your little form barely reaching his torso — and he adored it that way. it added onto your undeniable cuteness.

“i don’t mind. i trust that you’ll be gentle with them. touch as much as you like, y/n.” his deep voice made you feel warm, nodding as you sat up straight, a tad guilty that he was straining his neck to appease you.

and so, you started your little examination. your fingers lightly grazed upon the tips of his horns, slowly rubbing up and down. malleus gulped. his brow furrowed for a split second. not wanting to comment on your actions, his fangs digging into his lips to keep quiet. his horns weren’t extremely sensitive, but they did have feeling, and every time you touched — it sent a shiver down his spine.

however, you were too engrossed in his strange anatomy to care. mumbling to yourself, you let your hands travel further down his horns, paying attention to the little crevices and ridges on the sides. “amazing. it almost feels like scales, in a way. it’s a bit.. leathery..?” nails delightfully scraped the faes horns.

he hummed happily, almost purring at the special attention from the boy he liked. other than you shuffling on the couch to reach higher, the room was quiet — except for malleus’s little huffs every now and then. your fingers kept traveling lower, until you gently caressed the skin where his horns had grown from. careful hands followed the scales, eyes widening at the plethora of little ridges that adorned his forehead. “these were here all along..?”

“are you surprised, little human?” the fae chuckled, looking up at you. his cat-like pupils bore into your own, bright green irises making him all the more enticing. it was amazing how other worldly he was: you couldn’t believe that this wasn’t a dream. even with hair slightly disheveled, malleus still carried a powerful yet dreamlike aura to him. the dorm leader looked as if he stepped right out of a fairy tale.

“a little. i wasnt expecting them to be on your forehead, too.” malleus felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile, and before you knew it, he pulled you onto his lap. you gasped in surprise, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and moving you as if you were a feather, until you straddled him properly and looked down towards him. your face was red as the older man chuckled.

“you got to touch wherever you wanted, so surely you’d let me do the same to you, hm?” he laughed at your stuttering, speechless as his hands went lower. claws dug into the thick of your thighs before traveling back up, a careful index finger lightly traced around your crotch. he was teasing you on purpose. malleus would give you everything, but that didn’t mean he disliked being mischevious every once in a while, especially when your reactions were priceless.

“m-malleus—“ you tried to speak up, eyes scrunching shut when sharp nails circled around your crotch again. you were a toy in his hands, and that idea seemed to only spur you on even more. shaky breaths left your lips as he continued to rake and touch your frail frame.

soft lips grazed the shell of your ear before parting to speak. “sshhh, little human. you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you? some diasomnia students might still be around..” malleus chuckled, leaving a small kiss before nuzzling into your neck.

his body hunched over yours, as if he was caging you in his arms as much as he could. a hefty sigh made the fae relax, you scent letting him unwind.

on the contrary, the close proximity only made you feel even more antsy. never have you been this close to the dorm leader. what started as innocent curiosity led to something much more interesting, with you having no choice but to stay still and let him explore your own human body.

“i don’t want to waste any time, so behave, okay? let me really see how a human reacts to touch.”

[allurilove]

Yan! Prince x Siren you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Gore, murder, death, cannibalism?, physical violence, non-consensual touching, implied sexual exploitation, fem reader, and decapitation.

*This is just a fun short story I wrote for the class I am taking, and I just decided to upload it here! Some parts are influenced by the yandere fic I already made lol! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: All you have known is peace, all until you get captured by a group of men that unlocks a different side to you. You then meet a prince, a prince driven with a bloodlust for power, and he gives you a proposition.

Men. All they do is bother you.

Your heart beats fast.

Your vision blurs as the familiar blues turn into browns, and your eyes fixate on the woodwork and rustic charm of what is considered to be a ship. The rope burns onto your skin, and your body contorts into an unnatural state as she is hoisted onto the boat.

Your tail thrashes and you try to bite your way out of the trap—teeth gnashing and chewing—and you cry out as youre is hit with a paddle. Your head starts to ring, and your eyes widen as you see the group of men in front of you.

Their garments are quite different from yours; in fact, they are fully dressed from head to toe. Their clothes are all dark, and their blouses have ruffles at the top. They wear boots, have swords at their sides, trench coats, and carry a heavy musk of sweat and battle.

With a sharp and intimidating blade, one of the men cuts through the net. Multiple hands grab for you, and your world comes to a pause as you panic. You feel like you can't breathe and your lungs are about to collapse. You scratch and attempt to plead with your captors, your nails digging into their forearms, drawing long red streaks.

But they do not listen.

“Mighty thang we got ‘ere!” one of the men says, his hair darkened by the rain peltering their bodies. He has a rough scar running down his face– a deep incision that caused his skin to never heal.

You can see a prominent and yellow snaggletooth whenever he speaks. He has an air of authority surrounding him, and his hat has gold embellishments compared to the regular silver everyone else has. That one particular man holds a predatory gaze, his eyes set ablaze with a whirlwind of mischief. “Tie her up, we could use a beaut like her on top of the mantle.” 

Laughter fills your ears as the group of men start to agree, and you feel a chill run down your spine as they touch your smooth cheek, their fingers trailing down to your jawline, and moving lower to your collarbones.

Each touch feels intrusive as they pet your silk-like hair condescendingly. “We could send her to the owner at The Pearl of the Eye; I know they are lookin’ for new girls to show off,” another says, his arms crossed as he leaned against the post.

“Aye, tha’ a popular place.” The man with the highest regard starts to pet his scruffy beard in thought. He then catches your withering glare, and a flash of amusement crosses his face. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I know men who would pay a pretty coin for that temperament.”

“Keep it up, trollop.” he snickers, his finger moving to boop your nose. “You’ll make me thousands of gold in no time.”

Your pupils turn to slits as you bite down onto the man's finger, a metallic taste bursting into your mouth, satisfaction lingering on your tongue. His blood becomes sweet nectar, and with renewed strength and clarity, you unhinge your jaw and attempt to swallow the human whole.

Your hunger becomes endless, and a gnawing angry feeling grows into an insatiable appetite for flesh. For skin to be peeled off meat. For meat to be taken from bone, and their vocal chords to be a part of yours. Your body adjusts to the change, your throat expanding to the men’s silhouette as they traveled down your gullet. Their screams were words of encouragement, egging you to continue.

Humans, and men in particular, tasted different from the fish you were used to. They were heavier, harrier, bloodier, and infested with nasty ambition of lust and pride. You revel in the taste of their guilt, their fear, and the past memories of their wickedness. 

No matter how hard the group of men tried to band up and defeat the siren, their swords were no match for your unwavering hatred. You waste zero time to snap multiple necks, your teeth digging into any area that you could rip into shreds, and your stomach becomes full off of their disgustingly filthy urine soaked bodies.

One last man is standing, his eyes wide as saucers and his tears roll down his pale cheeks. He looks young and his uniform doesn't fit him properly. Your nails help your body to crawl towards the shaking figure, he can't even defend himself, and the weapon in his hand shakes. The wind continues to whip around them, the clouds darken as a loud cry comes from the sky, and an array of purple and dark blue strikes down on the earth. The boy yelps when you have an iron grip on his ankle. 

Unbeknownst to the siren, a smaller vessel has pulled up to the larger ship.

“I wouldn't touch him, if I were you.” The voice is cutthroat, a harsh demand that sends chills down the spine of the scariest and deadliest creature. You wince as you feel a sharp pain on your scalp, and your hair is now wrapped around a stranger's hand as they yank you back. You crash into a barrel filled with treasures as you are thrown across the ship, and a bunch of diamonds and pearls spill onto the floor. 

A tall and proud man stands in front of you, he has pitch black hair that flows in the wind, and his blue eyes shine like bright lights. The unknown man's presence is regal-like, his back straight like an arrow, and his face is trained with unusual niceties. Then the little boy ran into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around him tightly… all before the man pulls out a dagger from his sheath.

Without a single thought, a clean cut to the throat separated the head from the body, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide eerie smile. He isn't phased by the limp body falling to his feet and the blood spilling onto his perfect shoes.

“You… you are exactly what I need.” The man’s eyes are glued to yours and he stares down at you. “My name is Prince....” 

The prince that stands before you is practically last in line for the throne. That is what you could surmise from his little rant. He is sadly and disappointingly the second youngest, and he isn't close to the crown and title, at all.

He paced around, one hand on his heart, and the other continued to grip onto the hair of the decapitated head. “I need to be king. I am the only one fit to rule the land. It is like the gods have forsaken me, and they decided to punish me for no apparent reason.”  

The man huffs, his eyes narrowing. The waves crash against the sides of the boat, but he stands his ground. “Six siblings ahead of me, and one measly brother behind me– does that seem fair to you? That this kingdom will fall into the hands of dumb and dumber, and eventually to the offspring of the said dumb and dumber?!” His voice is so loud it even rivals the onslaught of thunder, and you can hear a hint of distraught on his otherwise clear and steady tone.

“This is where you come in.” He stops right in front of you. “I can keep you fed, and I can give you all the riches you could ever want. Marry me, carry my children and lineage, and get rid of all of my siblings.” The prince throws the head at your tail, and with a tilt of the ship, it slowly rolls towards you.

The boy's jaw is slack, a tooth chipped from the impact of the fall, and his blue eyes are wide open in fear. He has similar tiny freckles around his nose like the prince, the same facial structure with the high cheekbones, and a tall nose.  

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

[tjodity]

Scrapped lore bits from the Dream SMP I'm still mad we never got:

-Whatever lore Nihachu had planned for the day Doomsday happened

-The Egg finale scheduled for immediately after the Red Banquet

-Jschlatt's Las Nevadas resurrection (heavily implied by Quackity trying to get the Revival Book after gambling with Glatt and cc!Schlatt saying he'd be coming back to the SMP)

-Any further development of Puffychu

-Ranboo getting resurrected (cc!Ran saying he was meant to be revived two weeks after the prison break)

-Hitting on 16 in livestream format. Like I know we still got the lore but cc!Wilbur simply could not fit what the format brings into written form. The long periods of characters just talking to each other, body language, random impromptu moments, etc.

-The Manhunt Arc (slight speculation but the streams where Tommy reinforced Tubbo's old house and convinced Eryn, Sam Nook, and Phil to help him track and kill Dream after the prison break felt like it was setting up something)

-Cyberknife lore (cc!Techno planned on having his character leave and acting as an antagonist for the syndicate)

-Ranboo's ARG (never properly finished)

-Ranboo and Slime in the multiverse (I have no context but I swear cc!Ranboo said something about this and if I had to guess tftsmp!Ran and O!Ranboo could've had something to do with it)

-whatever Connor had going on (I know his SMPLive stuff I'm referring to him knowing Karl could time travel)

-Tubbo's ending of growing old and raising Michael (planned but cut for the nuclear ending)

-Tommy's soft ending which would apparently resemble Jesse Pinkman from Breaking Bad. (this is secondhand information but I've seen people talk about it. I assume this to mean he would escape the SMP and we wouldn't see what happened to him. Cut for the nuclear ending)

-Captain Puffy being the main antagonist of Season 2 (as seen by her being the vessel for the fully powered Egg in the finale and having a skin ready for season 2)

Feel free to add your own!

[unearthly-doting]

the wind will guide you home

a/n: idk idk i just really like the anemo characters soso much. kept it pretty vague i think so you can decide if the reader is willing or unwilling. no faruzan or lynette bc i couldn't think of anything for them :(

includes: aether, lumine, venti, jean, xiao, kazuha, sucrose, heizou, and wanderer.

premise: you wandered a little too far away from your partner for their liking. maybe you were trying to escape, maybe not. but don't worry, they'll find you.

warnings: mdni, yandere content, gn reader, implied/referenced kidnapping, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, implied drugging, stalking, unhealthy relationships, vague mentions of dependency, uh whatever the fuck is happening in wanderer's section.

AETHER — is immediately panicked the moment he realizes you aren't by his side anymore. he never lets you travel with him, it was dangerous and you were safer tucked away in the little area he kept you in, safe from the dangers of this mysterious world. it was his fault, really. he had forgotten to lock the door the last time he visited, having been in such a hurry for one reason or another. you, for some reason, had decided to leave even though he had told you time and time again that it was dangerous. he wouldn't waste any time looking for you, hurrying outside, and using everything he had to his advantage to search for you. if you have a vision, he's definitely using his elemental sight to track you down. and when he does find you, he's immediately latching himself onto you, clinging to you and breathing a sigh of relief. he was completely oblivious to the horrified look on your face, just glad to have you in his arms again. "let's get you home. it's not safe for you out here."

LUMINE — would more than likely notice immediately when you vanish. she keeps you at her side at all times to ensure that she can protect you, so you're rarely ever away from her. the moment she sees that you're gone, she's abandoning whatever it was she was doing to find you. it doesn't matter if it was a commission or some important task that will help her get a better understanding of this world. you were more important than that right now. you needed to be back by her side. her tracking skills were incredibly good, so you wouldn't get far before she had you in her sights again. it doesn't matter if you were trying to escape or if you were just distracted and wandered off, the grip she had on your wrist was tight once she caught up to you, and she refused to let you go until the two of you were back at whatever inn or camp you two were staying at. she'll bind your hands together and tie the end of the rope to her wrist if you try arguing with her. "i can't keep you safe if you refuse to stay by my side."

VENTI — is honestly the only one here that will find you like almost immediately. even if he isn't paying attention to you and instead wowing a crowd with his amazing bard skills, the wind will tell him the moment you're gone. he'll stop midstory at the news, politely excusing himself and promising to be back later with an even better story. he'll let the wind guide him, listening to the whispers as he hurries down the streets of mondstadt, picking up pace when the wind tells him you were heading for the main gate of the city. if he uses his powers as the anemo archon to cause a harsh gust of wind to knock everyone away from the gates of the city just so he can catch up with you, then... well... it's not like anyone will know it was him. other than you, of course. and the moment you recovered from hitting the ground, venti was at your side and helping you up. he let you keep your freedom, most of it at least, but he didn't want you to leave the city if he wasn't at your side. he doesn't let go of your hand as he drags you back, an upbeat smile on his face as he playfully spoke, "you're missing my performance! you know i can't perform without my biggest fan watching me." you miss the tightly concealed desperation in his eyes as he stared at you. you can't leave him. he won't let you.

JEAN — is so busy with work that she rarely has the time to keep track of every little move you make. honestly, she probably won't realize you're gone until kaeya or amber drop by and tell her that they saw you wandering outside the city, seemingly heading in the direction of liyue. she's immediately abandoning whatever paperwork she had been looking through, hurrying out of her office and rushing past the citizens in the city to get to you. her mind was running wild trying to figure out why you would even think about leaving the city, let alone leaving without telling her. she's almost out of breath by the time she finds you, the sun starting to set as she crashes into you in a tight hug while rapid-fire questioning you on why you were leaving mondstadt and if she did something wrong and what she could do to make it better. it isn't hard to calm her down, cutting off her questions and explaining that you were simply going to visit some family in liyue and that you had left a note for her at home because you didn't want to bother her when she was so busy. whether or not that was the truth, she didn't care. she was pulling you back in the direction of the city, shaking her head. "no, i can't focus on anything when you aren't here. i need you."

XIAO — felt a little hurt, finding you gone. he was one of the hardest to get away from, always at your side unless the traveler called him away or something happened that required his attention. he thought you had gotten used to him by now, seeing as you never shied away from him when he was around anymore. so yeah, he was real fucking hurt when he returned to the inn and found your room empty. not even verr knew where you had gone. he isn't the type to immediately panic, but he is tense and will gradually get more agitated the longer it takes to find you. if he finds you quickly, the most you'll get is a cold glare as he drags you back to the inn. if he finds you after searching for hours upon hours, he will cling to you as if you would disappear if he let go. his breathing would be heavy, his face buried in your neck as he grounds himself. you were back in his arms, and either way, he wasn't going to let you leave his sight until he was sure you weren't going to pull a stunt like this again. if you want to wander around, then just ask and he'll go with you. "don't ever do that again. don't... don't ever leave me like that."

KAZUHA — would feel torn. while he understands the need and desire to roam the world and take in all that one can process, he also felt uncomfortable when you weren't around. a sick feeling budding in his chest, wondering if maybe you weren't wandering off but instead trying to leave him. he wants to trust you, and most of the time he does, but... you've tried leaving him before. many times, actually, that he's lost count. so, as much as he would love to leave you to your own devices, he just didn't trust you enough. he would ask other travelers if they'd seen you by chance, and some would point him in your direction while others would shake their heads. no matter, he took any and all help given to him until he finally spotted you. his approach was quiet, and you were startled when you had finally noticed him. he didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at you. there was something about his gaze that felt more intense than normal. it was like he was studying you, deciphering your actions. it didn't last long, because the look was replaced with a soft smile as he held his hand out, beckoning you to take it. "let's walk together."

SUCROSE — also didn't immediately notice. similar to jean, she can get pretty busy with work and gets so invested that she'll often times forget her surroundings. it's only when albedo or noelle make a comment on you not being by her side that she snaps to attention, looking around with a puzzled expression. when had you left? how long had you been gone? when she had last spoken to you, the sun was high in the sky. it was dark now. she would stutter out a quick departure to whichever friend had told her you were gone before scurrying away to try and find you. she would have the hardest time finding you, nervously approaching strangers on the street and asking if they had seen you or not. one person mentioned seeing you at the barbatos statue, and she immediately darted off in that direction without sparing the informant a second glance. and she was damn near tears when she found you. she wouldn't understand why you had left without telling her first, wondering if maybe she had done something to upset you. she'd be apologizing, telling you she was sorry if she made you mad, and begging you to come home. given how you two were in public, you felt a bit out of place so you agreed just to stop having people look at you. she would hug your arm the entire time, refusing to let go until the two of you were back at her home. and then she'd offer you something to drink! as an apology! and, well... if she puts a little something in it to tire you out, then that's too bad. "o-oh, you feel sick? maybe you should try to rest... don't worry, i'll be here to take care of you."

HEIZOU — would be the second one to find you quickly. he's a detective, so obviously he'll be able to track you down with ease! your attempts at trying to cover were tracks were adorable but futile. he had found you probably a mere hour after you had gone off, though he didn't immediately make his presence known. he was curious as to why you had left so abruptly without telling him, wondering if maybe something had happened or if you were, perhaps, trying to leave him. but you wouldn't do that! right? either way, he's following you in secret. some may call this stalking, but he calls it... lovingly admiring from afar. this'll go on for hours, more than likely. he's not in any rush to drag you home, and he gets to partake in his favorite pastime! so, by all means, continue walking. he'll probably do a few things here and there to startle you, making noises by shaking bushes and branches or throwing rocks. he likes seeing you on edge; he thinks you're cute when you're constantly looking around, searching for him. of course, once you get too close to ritou for his liking, he'll bring the fun to an end and finally make his presence known by hugging you from behind, a cheeky smile on his expression as you tense up. "caught you!" he hums, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as if to prove to you that he was actually there. maybe he'll lock you up at home for a few days just to keep you all to himself. y'know, as his prize for catching you.

WANDERER — thinks it's amusing, honestly, that you think you can sneak off without him noticing. he'll let you go off on your own and let you think you have the freedom of doing so, but only because he has other pressing matters to attend to. he'll take is time too, going about his tasks at a languid pace, not at all worried about where you may be or where you might go. some people may ask about your whereabouts since you're usually almost always with him, and he'll just offer them a smile that... well. it puts them on edge, to be honest, and it makes them drop the topic. he'll even occasionally take breaks, enjoying a drawn-out lunch with nahida and even deciding to indulge the traveler a bit and walk with them through the city. but the moment he finishes all of his tasks for the day, he's going after you. you've had enough freedom today, and he wants you back at his side. it's where you belong, after all. he won't lie, it's exciting, searching for you like this. he wonders if you know whether or not he's after you. maybe you've been looking over your shoulder the entire day, wondering if he'll be right behind you. the thought alone fills him with an almost gleeful joy. and when he does find you, he's not wasting a single second before grabbing you, lips twitching upwards slightly at the startled shout you let out. "did you have fun?" he'll ask, though it would be hard to tell if he wanted a serious answer or not. he doesn't really care, in all honesty. you're back in his arms, right where you belong. his prized possession.

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Soldier/General x Fem!Reader

'His little bride.'

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, power dynamics, mentions of sa, p-in-v sex, mentions of war and military, implied violence, threats, possible dub-con as reader does not know the full story behind our yan's goals, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names.

(AN: Not me coming back from the grave to drop a horny fic and this disappear again. Gonna go eat some pumpkin roll.)

Part 2 here

The sound of papers shuffling and a heavy sigh pierces the usual quiet of General Fritz's office, which is only occasionally broken by you dusting or rearranging one of the many books on the various shelves that lined the room. It's been 3 weeks since the invasion of your small town of Cyril, and the few civilian homes not destroyed in the invasion have been turned into functioning barracks and homesteads for the troops that now occupy your town. While not ideal, the army Fritz serves aligns with the beliefs of your villages people much more than the opposition, and while they are still invaders, many believe them to be the lesser of two evils. You remain as quiet as you can as Fritz attends to his work with a furrowed brow.

General Fritz, while known for his excellence in military strategics and his translation skills, seems to be struggling with the morning's crossword puzzle. A man of 42, he has served in his countries army since he was just 15, leaving his family's small farm and quickly rising through the ranks. He's a scarred man, with many gashes, stubble, and hair that when not in public is rather unkempt. Despite the things he's seen, a kindness remains in his bespectacled eyes. He gives up on the crossword puzzle, allowing the paper to fall to his desk with a 'plop!'. You glance over at him, and approach.

"Sir, is there anything you need, you seem a bit, well, stressed." You say, trying not to impose but express concern. When the troops arrived, many men were recruited, and many girls had to seek jobs. Some had to turn to unsavory means to get by, but you were lucky, you supposed. You were scouted out to serve as a guide and servant for the general, to both give information and serve his needs. While the thought of serving a strange man, one much older than you at that had frightened you, he was nothing like the other soldiers you had seen. He was polite, careful not to scare you off, provided you with good quarters, and never laid hands on you. All in all, the situation would have been perfect, had you not missed your family's bakery from which you were taken. For reasons you didn't fully understand, he never wanted you to travel far beyond his estate and into town.

He sighs. "I am fine, my dear girl. Just dealing with some disputes at the border of the county. Nothing you should concern yourself with." He says. He looks up at you, his glasses reflecting the light of his desk lamp. "Would you mind drawing me a bath, my dear? It has been... quite the day, and I think I need some time to relax." You quickly nod, and scurry off to the master bedroom, entering the attached bathroom and beginning to fill the tub with hot water. After some time, Fritz enters, looking as though he is fighting the urge to ask a question. "I... I hate to ask this of you, and say no if at any point in my asking you are uncomfortable or find me uncouth, but-" He hesitates. "I am very tired, and am currently dealing with some rather serious pain in my legs. Past wounds, you know. Would you be offended if I asked for your assistance in bathing?" You blush a little, but a part of you knows he won't try anything. You have noticed he seems to be limping a little more than usual, his mobility decreasing. Plus, you can tell he's only asking because he must, as the look of utter shame on his face suggests this is the last thing he wished to ask of you. "Of course, sir." His breath hitches, but he nods. As he begins to remove his more civilian garb, as he did not wear his uniform on this day, you try to avert your gaze. Still, you catch a glimpse of his pronounced muscles, littered with the occasional scar or blemish. You swallow heavily.

He slides down into the tub, his tensed muscles visibly relaxing as he lets out a groan. "Hmm..." He glances at you. "It's okay to look now, my dear. Sorry to have upset you." You shake your head, as if to assure him that you aren't bothered. He looks at you softly as you go to grab a sponge, a small part of him disappointed that you won't be using your bare hands to lather soap onto him. He shakes this thought off quickly. 'Shame on you!' He scolds himself 'Thinking such thoughts about your sweet servant girl. God, I'm acting like a recruit visiting his first whorehouse'. He is disappointed in himself, but tries to rationalize it by being innocent. Perhaps he just wanted to feel your hands on him, for comfort, for something different. One of the things he likes most about you is your hands. He noticed them when you first were sent to his mansion, much more timid then. You shook his hand, and his large, calloused and veiny hands, rough from years of labor and fighting, practically trembled at the feeling of your soft ones. As he grew to know you better, he would watch as you worked, your delicate hands dusting a vase or folding a sheet. He quickly decided any hard labor around his home be delegated to cadets and privates, when they would make the occasional visit, and sometimes as a disciplinary action. He wanted to keep your hands like you, soft and warm.

"Sir?" Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "Uh- Yes?" He stammers, readjusting his glasses (which oddly enough he always kept on for bath time.). "I was wondering... if I may take a bath sometime soon?" You ask timidly, causing him to frown. "Have you not been able to take one?" He asks. He doesn't remember ever giving such a command, and he would never deny your basic needs. "Well, one of the privates told me that the recruits shower schedule is twice a week, and that I should probably adhere to that at your house." You explain. Fritz grimaces. Of course some recruit would find it funny to torment the General's beloved servant. The soldiers where allowed two showers a week, but you were no soldier. You were a servant. His Servant. His.

"No, my dear, you may bathe whenever you see fit, that rule only applies to my soldiers of low rank. I imagine that young recruit may have been trying to have a laugh at your expense." He huffs. "Please, if you ever see him at the estate again, alert me to him, alright?" You nod, a little put off. You've never seen Fritz truly mad at one of his soldiers, he doesn't even get grumpy often, but now... he's scowling, as if that cadet had come right up to him, spit on his boots, and insulted his mother.

His eyes suddenly flash with a different emotion, as a thought crosses his mind. He bites his lips, trying to keep away the thought, but it's too tempting. "Perhaps..." His hand grips the porcelain edge of the tub. "Perhaps it would be easier for you to bathe me properly, if you were closer." He mumbles, avoiding eye contact. You tilt your head. "What do you mean, sir?" You ask naively. "Well, I just think, you could get a better position to clean me if you were to join me, i-in this bath, I mean." You blush wildly, and he begins to stammer, coming up with reasons it's a good idea. "For one, it would help you to apply the pain balm to my leg, and-" He's out of breath. "And taking a bath now, together, would ensure you are free later if I should need you." He risks a glance up at your face, feeling his turn red to match your own. You swallow. "I... I suppose that would be okay, sir." You mumble. You can't imagine he would hurt you, or try to take advantage of you. If that were the case, you imagine he would have had his way with you already. Besides, you can't deny how you failed to avoid looking at him when his disrobed before his bath. "Just, look away while I undress, please." You say, beginning to undo the corset of your servants attire. "Of course, anything to protect a ladies modesty." He says, quickly using his free hand to shield his eyes.

You slip into the bath water, and he looks up as he hears the water splash upon your entrance. You both remain silent, and you bathe him gently. He holds back sighs of pleasure, as you have forgone the sponge, and now use your bare hands as he had dreamed of moments ago. "Sir?" you break the silence. He lets out a "Hmm?" In response, eyes still closed in satisfaction. "May I ask, why do you never let me go into town? I wish to see my family, and the bakery." You ask. He seems to tense a little, the veins in his arm more prominent. "Because I simply don't have the time to venture there with you right now." He explains. "Yes, but I grew up there! I'm fine to go by my own." You say, a little annoyed he seems to think you're some helpless maid. He lets out a long exhale, before sitting up a little. Even like this in the bath, he towers over you. "It's not you I'm worried about, little one. I'm sure in town, before me and my men arrived, you could hold your own. But you couldn't against my soldiers, and-" He hesitates to tell you this, a part of him not wanting to scare you. "I don't trust half of them around a sweet thing like you." He sighs. You furrow your brows, your face upset. "You mean, like?" You can't bring yourself to say it. He nods. "I prevent it in every way I can, for all women. I do not allow it, but I cannot be everywhere, and the leaders above me do not permit me to dismiss a single man for a transgression like that. We need all the men you can get for the war." He makes a bold move, to cup your cheek. "But, rest assured, I won't let a single one of them lay hands on you. I just fear something could happen outside of my estate, that I could not control." You gulp at the notion, and nod. He sees the sorrow on your face, and strokes your cheek once more. "I will try to take a small holiday, a day or two perhaps, and I will take you to see them, alright?" He feels his heart speed up when he sees the light return to your eyes.

"Oh! Thank you, sir!" You look as if you could cry. He smiles and nods. "I, I must confess, I hope to go sooner rather than alter, I had wished to speak to your father." He says. "About what?" You feel a little fear knaw at you, and you gasp. "Wait, sir, no! He's much to old to fight, and-" Fritz cuts you off with both hands on your shoulder. "No, my dear, no. I'm not going to draft your poor father, do not worry. I would not want to do anything that would worry you so much." He coos, then avoids eye contact again. "I had wished to speak to him. The last time we spoke, we made a deal that you were to work for me as a servant girl, but..." You nod for him to continue. "I have found that house chores and labor do not suit you." You frown at his words. Had you not been doing a good enough job. "I'm sorry, sir, if I've not been performing well, please don't fire me. My family needs the money." He seems shocked once again, and laughs awkwardly. "God, I do seem to be bad at saying what I mean, don't I?" He shakes his head. "I mean that I think such things are below you. I... I should like to take you as my bride, if you and he should permit it." Your eyes widen. You hadn't expected that. What would he have you do as his bride? He senses your nervousness, and continues. "I assure you, it can have as much or as little intimacy as you wish. You needn't even act as a proper wife to me, I just-" He seems to be struggling to explain. "I just want you to be safe, and comfortable, a-as you have made me feel since you began to serve me." You feel your heart flutter at his words. "Since you arrived, you've been so sweet. Doting on me, caring for me, helping me with the daily crosswords." You laugh a little, and he smiles. "I want nothing more than to ensure that I get to enjoy that everday, and more importantly," a slightly darker tone ebbs its way into his voice. "I want to ensure that no other man does." You're a bit put off by the shift, but only nod.

"I should like to, sir." His head snaps up, his mouth hanging open slightly. "I'll admit, I always wanted to live in a fancy house like this, and the company isn't half bad either." You admit, shyly looking up at him. He is elated, his form almost trembling. "Do you mean it? Truly? You wish to accept my proposal?" He gasps. You nod. He lunges forward to hug you, causing the water to surge forward, but stops just short of you, remembering your nude form rests below the soapy water, as does his. "Ah, um." He coughs awkwardly. "I must ask, if we are to marry, and you do enjoy my company, would you be okay with the typically romantic things? I know people usually court first, but seeing as we've spent all this time together already." He says. You think. "Like kissing, and holding each other?" You ask. "Yes, like that sort of thing." He affirms. You nod. "I'm fine with trying it, but I need to tell you something." He nods for you to go on.

"I'm sure you know, we are a little reserved and conservative in our town. As a traveling man, and a general, I'm sure you have had your share of, um, intimate encounters. I was always told to wait, however, and I may not be what you are used to." You look at the water, trying to fight the insecurity gnawing at your heart. He only shakes his head quickly. "No, no, my darling girl! How could you ever be anything but perfect to me?" He asks, caressing your shoulder blade with his thumb. "I would be honored, if you would have me, to teach you about the more, intimate affairs of marriage and courting." He says. "I must admit, I'm afraid that I wouldn't be enough to satisfy you as a man, or a husband." He confesses. You gasp, and cup his face. "Why, sir?" You implore him to confide in you. "My dear, you are a mere twenty-three years of age, and I am forty-two. I'm practically twice your age. Besides being an old man, you had to help me with this blasted leg into the tub. I'm practically a cripple..." His insecurities begin to flow out as he confesses. You gently tuck your head against his shoulder. "No, sir. You are enough for me. You are a general, and a kind man. You have always treated me with respect. If I didn't think you were enough, I wouldn't have said yes to marrying you, would I?" He nods reluctantly. "No, you wouldn't have. You've always been a smart girl." He admits. "I'm willing to learn, as long as you show me, sir." You whisper.

He blushes, but takes this as a sign. "Well, seeing as we are due to wed, I don't see the harm in teaching you a few things now..." He says, pushing forward a little so your smaller frame is up against the slanted back wall of the tub. "Are you alright with this, you may tell me at any time if you want to stop." He says. You nod. "Words, my dear, please. I want to hear that you understand." He pushes. "I understand, sir." You say. He shakes his head as he plans a kiss on your forehead. "Call me Fritz, my little bride." He coos. "And since you are to be my bride, I hope you won't mind showing me what's been hiding under that uniform I gave you?" He asks. You blush, but slide a little further up the tub, parting your thighs just a touch, so he can see the bush of hair between them. "I haven't shaved, sorry." You say, a little embarrassed. He only chuckles, and shakes his head. "My dear, I've gone months without a shower, and shared a restroom and barrack with 27 other men. A little hair won't scare me off." He looks longingly. "Besides, it's what's under it I'm interested in." His hand suddenly comes to your inner thigh, the sensitive touch making you gasp. You've never been touched up there, much less by a man so strong. One of his large, calloused fingers comes to part your lips, exposing to your future husband your dripping, virgin holes. He lets out a wanton sigh at the sight.

"So beautiful, and untouched?" He asks. You gulp, and nod. "It is my honor to be the first and last man to pleasure your sweet little sex." He says. He traces that finger up and down you're folds, making sure you are properly teased, and getting a feel for you. "So wet, and not just from the bathwater, it seems." He whispers. "Is this how you planned to lose your purity? To a man twice your age, and an invading military officer, no less?" You blush in shame. "I didn't think of the specifics, just... just wanted you to have it, sir..." You whine. His grins grows, and he lets out a groan as he latches his lips to your neck. He licks and kisses up and down your neck, until he finds a spot that makes you let out a beautiful whine, causing him to nip at it. "Do you think your father would be less likely to accept my proposal if he noticed you covered in marks of love from me?" Fritz asks, and you only giggle a little. He finger wanders up to touch the pearl of your sex, making you gasp. "Oh, Fritz... what are you doing?" You ask. "Just finding your pearl, my dear. I want you to cum at least once before I take your virginity. I want to please you, my darling girl." He kisses your cheek, before he presses another finger against your pearl. He rubs in soft, slow circles, trying a few different angles before he finds one that pleases you, which he discerns from the moans you let out. "Fritz, mm-" You moan. You can feel a slow heat spreading, as something in you builds. "Please, a little faster?" You ask. He tuts, and looks at you. "Can't you be patient?" He teases. "No, wanna finish..." You mumble. "Want you in me, I-I wanna be your little wife." He almost chokes at your pleas, the words going straight to his cock. He didn't think you could arouse him even further, but you always did exceed his expectations. He quickens the pace, and you can feel your orgasm approaching. "Yes, Fritz, Yes. Please, make me cum." You beg. "You want to cum, cum so I'll put my manhood into you? Want me to make you a proper little wife for me?" He edges you, and as you nod and agree profusely, you feel that wave wash over you. Your pussy convulses around nothing, as you let out a whine that sounds like music to him. This beats his visits to the royal opera a hundred times over.

As you pant, coming down from your high, Fritz holds you in your place, rising a little out of the water himself. You blush, as his erect manhood becomes visible. He's well groomed, and while the tip isn't pronounced, there's a curve to it that makes your mouth water. "Well, do I seem up to your standards, my love?" He asks. "More than that, Fritz. You're so pretty..." While it seems like nothing to you, these words strike him hard. He's never been called pretty before, and hearing it from your soft lips wipes the lewd grin off his face, replacing it with momentary shock. He pulls himself to you, his chapped lips colliding with your soft ones. You squeak, but melt into it. He tastes like earl grey tea and the occasional cigars he would smoke, but only when stressed. You both gasp as he pulls away, needing air. He places many small kisses on your face, making you smile as you look up at him. "My sweet, sweet girl. Always so kind to this old man..." He murmurs. As he does, he rolls his hips forward a little, allowing the underside of his manhood to rub against the length of your sex. "I'm going to be gentle, alright? It might hurt a little, especially with me being quite a bit larger than you. But I promise to take it at your pace, alright?" He asks, his hands resting gently on your waist. You nod, and feel his hard tip prod a few times at your aroused pearl, before moving down to line up with your entrance. He warns you a little, before gently pushing the tip in. You wince, and he continues to soothingly rub your waist with his thumbs. He moves himself out, then rolls his hips back in, a little deeper with each thrust. It hurts, but the relaxing warm water helps, and it's not as bad as you thought it would be. "Feels okay, darling?" He asks. "Yes..." You respond, focusing on the feeling of him inside you. As he continues, the pain subsides, and he begins to quicken the pace when he tells you this.

"God, Fritz. You're big, s-so big..." You moan, his hips causing your ass to bounce back and forth off the wall of the tub. "I' feel 'mazing." He huffs. "So tight, and warm. My girl, letting me take you like this, getting you ready for our wedding night." He feels himself harden even further at the thought. "Y'know, I think it'd be a shame not to share how sweet you are, how caring." He says, his hips now pounding at your cervix. "W-what?" You ask. He had made it clear earlier he didn't want to share, so despite the pleasure you are confused. "Saying you'll make a good wife, but I think you'd make a better mother." He moans. You gasp at the thought. "All swollen with my baby, my child. Letting me care for you for once, instead of helping me walk cause of my leg, I'd get to help you around..." He thrusts grow more erratic at the idea, and you feel yourself about to climax once more. "Let me, my love, please. Let me fill you with my seed, my children. Let your fiance make you a mommy..." He begs. Just as you shout an agreement, you feel yourself convulse around him, causing his breath to hitch. He groans. "God, gonna finish to now, going to give you my babies..." He shouts. You feel a warmth flood you, as he sprays hot, white ropes of cum into your womb. You both pant, taking quite some time to recover.

Being the strong man he is, he bounces back quite quickly, while you are so tired you can barely move. "I'm sorry, my love." He coos. "Perhaps I was a bit rough for your first time..." You shake your head. "Mmm, no. I-I felt good, just, I'm just tired." You yawn. He chuckles. He cleans himself, and you, before draining the tub. He grabs both of your clothes as he carries you past your servants quarters, and into his room. Helping you to redress in your undergarments, he lays you down. You sigh as your body melts into the luxury sheets. He sits beside you, gently stroking your face. "Get some rest, my little bride." He whispers, before departing back to his office. He heads to the front door, and picks up a letter dropped off from the courier. Inside the envelope is your father's response, from a proposal sent several days ago by Fritz. Once again, though this was his third and final time asking, your father once again denied your hand in marriage to Fritz, saying he would never marry his precious girl to an invader. Fritz grimaces, as he had not wanted it to come to this. Sighing, he writes two more letters in response. One to your father, stating his intent to take your hand either way, and another to his second-in-command, ordering a man to be jailed for treason and defying military orders. The first letter reads as follows.

Dear sir,

As you are well aware, this is the third time you have rejected to allow me to take your daughters hand in marriage. While i understand your hesitation, I do what I do only to provide her a safe, comfortable life, which I do not believe you could have provided her, in your town which my men overtook in merely three hours. I could not imagine if a man worse than I had set his sights on her instead. Rest assured, that in light of your soon-to-be imprisonment, I will care for her. She has developed a reciprocation of my feelings, and despite your refusal to wed her to me, as I write this she lays in my bed, beginning to bear my child. I wish that you had been understanding, and done what was best for your daughter. Now, she will marry happily, but have no father, and the blame lies only on you.

-Fritz, General of the Northern King's forces.

[hazelfoureyes]

Besties Get Banged (part2)

⟢Angel Dust x PornstarReader - Besties get Banged smut💦

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader ✧ FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აMaleReader ✧ FemaleReader໒꒱

Val leaves set and Angel offers the sofa of his dressing room to continue what you started.

「warnings/promises: Angel x FemaleReader , vaginal creampie, quick fuck, kisses, cuddles」

same story as male reader; just different bits and bobbles

minors dni 🧯

Angel’s hand slipped into yours as soon as Val was called off set. You two had been corrected for your behavior by the overlord, but luckily his square headed prince needed him.

“Ya know, I have a private dressin’ room.” Angel’s fingers tugged your hand, “With a sofa.”

The benefit of so many arms was how easily he could close the door, lock it, and pull open both of your robes all while you struggled to shake off your slippers.

His mouth left yours as he gently pushed you back toward the purple chaise lounge near the balcony door, “You whole?” 

A common question amongst Val’s employees, especially those who found comfort in each other after his abusive power trips. Not are you hurt, that implies just physical harm. Not are you okay, you can be okay and not be okay. You understood very well what he was asking, are you mentally and physically comfortable to continue?

You nodded, “Yeah, you?”

“He doesn’t get to me as badly anymore,” two hands on your face, two on your hips. Ah, you wish you could touch him more, with as many hands as he had soft places to caress. Angel lowered you, lithe body coming to rest on yours as his hips began moving against your naked core. Soft cock slowly growing against your skin, lube and slick being rubbed into your folds by his ministrations.

As soon as he was hard enough to enter you, he did. The sigh he made, the weakness that came over his face as he sunk into your tight but welcoming cunt made you shudder. A streak of electricity traveling from your spine down and forward to your clit.

Angel wasted no time in finishing the fucking he had been dreaming of just an hour earlier. His arms came down, fingers exploring your valleys and your peaks. Hungry for your affection, for the tenderness he so desperately needed, his mouth crashed into your cheek. Sloppy, happily unprofessional, he kissed and licked his way to your mouth, already open and waiting to receive him. 

He tasted like candy on your tongue, sweet and melting. Every gasp and moan he gave you he then greedily swallowed. 

“Shit, close,” he whined, “Already”. He found your hands with his, pulling them and you up as he leaned back. Two hands cupped your ass and lifted you onto his now seated lap. Your legs came around his waist, your measly two arms wrapped around his neck as you held tightly. Small but strong, he pistoned himself up into your heat while those hands did the work of you riding his swelling cock. 

He pulled you in for another kiss, lips pressing into yours with no rhythm or goal as he tried to bring you over the climax together. While he spent most of his time with dicks, literally and figuratively, he understood the focused wind up a female orgasm could need.

Your hand came between your bodies, trying to meet him at the edge. Eyes shut, you focused on the place where he was in you, the heat and the stiffness of his arousal for you. As he whispered, “so close” and whined, “baby” into your ear with gasped breaths, you thought about your pussy wringing Angel Dust dry and quickly reached your orgasm. 

“Me too,” was all you could manage as your teeth clenched and head came down onto his shoulder.

Angel continued to move you on and off his dick as he rode out his climax. Your walls contracting around him, milking him like your body had been designed to do it. A feeling he wasn’t wholly used to, definitely not for free and off camera, he pulled you down and held you there to linger in the sensation.

“Too deep,” you wiggled, slightly painful pressure as his still engorged head was now threatening to slip past your cervix. 

“Sorry” he smiled, “not used to, ya know, some of this stuff.”

Valid. There was a lot more stuff than he was used to thinking about. Especially at work.

He eased up his grip, letting you lift enough to relax. 

Slippery and hot, you stayed stuck together for an unknown amount of time. His mouth kept finding its way back to you, lazy but content kisses peppered across pink cheeks and flush lips. 

Rarely he could be held so gently while sober, so he took his time in enjoying your tenderness. Four arms wrapped around you and pulled your head into that fluff on his chest, “Val’s not gonna let us work together again.” He said it matter of factly.

You sucked in through your teeth, “Yeeeeeah… I’ll probably get canned.”

Angel pursed his lips, “Well, I know a solution to both problems.” He pulled back, beaming down at you, “A place with free rent where yous can easily see me anytime we want. How do ya feel about group activities?”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

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@jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling

[homunculus-argument]

Come to think of it, I really like doing worldbuilding in common misconceptions caused by survivor/sample bias. I got too gleefully into infodumping about worlds I made up, so I'm going to be merciful and throw a cut-off right here:

(damn, you're still reading? Well, that's on you. Here we go.)

In The Book I Am Not Writing, the fisher folk have very strict concepts of ritual purity, being strict about seemingly arbitrary rules of cleanliness, and they simply don't do extramarital relationships. They are, however, polygamous both ways, so consulting the other spouses about introducing another wife or husband into the marriage is always an option. They also seem to have absurdly large flocks of children. Being both an unusual ethnicity who are commonly considered pretty, and also essentially completely off-limits for casual sex, they are often fetishised, and there's a myth that fisher men are so insanely good in bed that their wives simply cannot resist the temptation of their four sexy husbands even if they're otherwise absolutely done getting pregnant all the time.

The truth is a lot more complicated than that. First of all, in the multiple-spouse marriages, all children are raised between all parents and many clans consider it inappropriate to inquire which kids are biologically whose, so if one or two of the partners has fertility issues, nobody from the outside would know. And the seemingly arbitrary purity rules aren't all that random either - many of them actually ensure a higher standard of hygiene than what other cultures around them have. This, and restrictions about marrying within one's own clan to avoid inbreeding, ensure healthier children. They aren't fucking and getting pregnant more than any other peoples, they have more children because of lower infant mortality.

The Travellers are also "outsiders" living in diaspora, who are - as their name implies - itinerant and never stay in one place for long. Not by choice, though many of them will say they'd rather live this way than to ever settle down, but because almost all towns and cities have discriminatory laws explicitly prohibiting Travellers in particular from staying in the city for too long, or limiting how many of them can be allowed within the city walls at the same time. They don't call themselves Travellers, but refuse to tell outsiders what their own language's name is for their own people, out of fear that the name would be appropriated and turned into a slur. Secrecy is the only privacy that they are allowed to have.

An unusually large number of Travellers also have unusual physical traits, dysmorphic structural features, and congenital disabilities. This is used as xenophobic cannon fodder by citizens of the Empire, treated as proof that the Travellers are so morally crooked that it even deforms their bodies. This, of course, is bullshit. In truth, Travellers do not have any more disabled or deformed babies than anyone else - what they do have is a strong culture of NEVER abandoning one of their own. No matter what. So while people of the Empire associate health and beauty with moral goodness, and consider having "imperfect" babies shameful, Travellers simply don't practice the common peoples' common habit of abandoning or discreetly 'disposing' of children who aren't likely to survive into adulthood, or who will need support their entire lives. "What can be done to one of us, they will do to all of us" is how they live, so nobody gets left behind.

On the opposite end of society there are the Baronesses, the Empire's all-female army of trained magic-wielders. A military class, whose inherent magical powers do not even manifest in every child or even every generation, but when it does, it's always on girls. Daughters are trained for combat, they are the ones to carry on the family name. Since a woman does not need to be married in order to be sure that all her children are hers, sons are not particularly valued even as political tokens for arranged marriages. It is considered common knowledge that there's something in "wielder blood" that makes the male carriers of it weak just as it makes the female ones strong, and that is considered the reason why the male members of wielder families tend to be so dysfunctional, emotionally frail, rampant with substance abuse and more likely to die in the womb or in early infancy.

It is politely never questioned how downright convenient it is that it just happens to be the less wanted sex who are far, far more likely to simply perish away for no apparent reason, especially when it comes to the most harsh, highest-ranking, and most competitive wielder families.

Far across the great ocean, on the opposite corner of the map of the world that the Empire knows of, are the Northlands. Almost mythical mystical lands, that are the source of the various types of thick white pelts and some other exotic goods, commonly supposed to be populated by completely wild, savage people. Northmen are all lumped together, as most people of the Empire would find it hard to believe that the Northmen have even one civilised culture, not to speak of consisting of several cultures and creeds with their own languages and customs. The only few Northmen that the Empire has seen have been foreign sailors in port towns, or perhaps someone's unit of rare exotic bodyguards, undoubtedly a weird flex.

Northmen are considered feral, and the "civilised" ones a strange exception to a supposed rule. It is said that they are exclusively carnivores, eating only meat like tigers and drinking only alcohol. That they are nocturnal, with eyes like cats and wolves that gleam in the dark, and that sunlight hurts them. The sun never rises in their lands, so naturally the people are as pale as cave olms, just like the pelts of their animals are all white. And just like cats and wolves, their infants are all born with blind blue eyes, which either stay blue or turn yellow once they grow.

This, too, is a mishmash of myth and half-truth. Northfolk who venture this far south are more likely to eat meat than any fruit or vegetable they are offered, since they are more familiar with what goat or chicken taste like than any fruit of this strange climate. Northland alcohols are generally bitter ales and dry wines, and the sweet liquors and strong wines of Southlands are a treasured luxury for the ones who are familiar with them, and a very fast way to get shitfaced if one isn't. They aren't nocturnal at home, but having no other protection from the relentless sun, they do prefer to move at dusk to avoid getting sunburn. And The Long Night only lasts a few weeks or months, but that's difficult to explain to people whose common language doesn't have words for "snow" or "winter."

There are no Nothfolk with yellow eyes, but blue eyes are very common, and to Southland people to whom both eye colours are unnatural and associated exclusively with beasts and carnivores, they rarely notice that they've never seen a yellow-eyed one. And being born with blue eyes like wolf pups and kittens isn't a myth, that really is a thing that happens to white people.

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird and The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 4 ✿:+ Candle Flames

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, -, 5

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: SMUT, MINORS DNI, afab reader, thigh fucking, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, alcohol consumption, mention of death, mention of arranged marriage, LOTS OF VIOLENCE, blood, implied threat of non-con, 

Word Count: 4738

After you’d spoken to Loras, you’d felt even more alone than before. The talk offered no comfort other than the fact he didn’t want you dead. Sansa was fine company but she was something you felt the strong urge to protect. You put yourself in harm's way constantly just to prevent her from facing any pain.

Specifically one incident when you and her were walking with the Royal Party after watching the Princess sail away to Dorne to be wed off. It was hard to watch the crying girl sail away, especially when you’d been in her very place. 

It was easy to keep your eyes averted to such a sight when The Hound was there to accompany Joffrey. You kept your head low but your eyes stayed on him. You’d still had so many questions about the night you both shared, but now was not the time to ask. 

Later making your way back through the capital city you were sickened by the sights you saw. The Lannisters and Baretheons were supposed to be the wealthiest and most powerful houses. And yet the people of their cities sit in filth and starve. Starving over a war they did not want nor started. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to be even the least bit angry when the crowd began to shout vile things. However you found yourself slightly confused once you heard the words ‘bastard’, ‘incest monster’, and ‘brother-fucker’ being sworn towards the royal party.

However your confusion only occupied your mind for a brief moment before someone within the crowd hurled cow manure at the King's face. You felt a brief sense of enjoyment when you saw it hit his face, but it was soon replaced by fear when the King ordered for the execution of the entire crowd,

“Find the man who did that and bring him to me! Kill them, Kill them all!” The King shouted.

Foolish it was, he’d only a few gold cloaks, some kingsguard, and even less knights. Outnumbered by the hundreds of rioting starving people.

Sandor grabbed hold of Joffrey protecting him.

“What are you doing? I want these people executed!” Joffrey whined loudly

“And they want the same for you!” He shouted back

The city watch was quickly overpowered. And the High Septon that you and the royal party was traveling with was pulled into the crowd. You were horrified to witness him being pulled limb from limb, never seen such a thing in your life.

“Move, Move!” Tyrion shouted at you

As the Kingsgaurd were able to eventually carve somewhat of a path towards the entrance of the Red Keep, Joffrey, Cersei, and Tyrion were all rushed inside quickly. 

Before you could make your way inside you noticed your cousin Sansa being derailed and separated from the rest. 

You grabbed ahold of her quickly and pushed her into a Kingsguard who brought her inside. However once she was in, without seeing you they closed the doors. 

Alone.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆

Inside the keep 

“You blind bloody fool!” Tyrion scolded Joffrey’s moronic behavior by hitting and cursing at him. “We’ve had vicious kings, we’ve had idiot kings, but I don’t know if we’ve ever had an idiot king!”

“You’re talking to a King!” Joffrey shouted back like an embarrassed child.

Tyrion raised his hand and slapped him “And now I’ve struck a King, did my hand fall from my wrist?” He shouted back, he turned around and noticed you were not there, “Where is the Arryn girl?” He shouted at the men. 

“Let them have her!” Joffrey retorted 

“If she dies her relatives in the North won't forget it! She’s cared for in the vale and might I remind you she shares blood with the Starks! You need her alive!” He shouted back before frantically calling upon all the king's men to return to save you. 

“Gather your men and find her!” He shouted to Ser Meryn 

“I only take orders from my king, imp.” Meryn responded coldy. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ 

Meanwhile as you attempted to hide in a dark hall, winding up in some kind of stable. You thought for a moment you’d made it there unnoticed and alone. However four men soon walked in behind you as you backed yourself against a wall. Your hand found his way around the handle of a small sharp shovel of some kind. The blade of it was sharp and flat. 

You’d not said a word, you knew if you shouted for them to get back or to fuck off it would be of no use. 

“Look at this little bird's eyes, she’s furious.” One of the men with short hair was mocked. 

“I’ve no gold, no silver, no bread.” You said in a low tone, firm voice. 

“Aye, but you’ve got something.” The taller man said with a crooked grin.

As that man began to take a step towards you, you grasped the handle of the shovel firmly and stabbed it into him. Between his neck and his collarbone. 

As the other men began to shuffle towards you, you pulled the shovel back out and pointed it at them as their friend fell to the ground holding his bleeding wound. 

The man with short hair managed to grab ahold of you whilst his other friend grabbed ahold of your wrist, yanking the shovel out of your hand. The man with short hair placed his hand over your mouth, in response you bit down onto his fingers so hard you were afraid your teeth would shatter. You could taste the blood rush into your mouth. 

In response to your bite, with his other hand he hit you creating a cut over your eyebrow. It threw you off just enough to make you fall back and into the other man's arms. 

The three men began to pin you down shouting vulgar remarks, as they did you kicking at them and scratching at them. Just as the one with short hair began to undo his pants, he was stopped. 

Picked up by the back of his neck like a puppy, practically lifted off of the ground. His guts were cut out of him. As his body fell to the ground you saw him, it wasn’t Sandor, it was The Hound. This is what everyone spoke of. 

The men who held your wrists were next. He cut with precision. His swords swung and took off the man's head. The next he grabbed before he could escape. Slamming his fist into his head, and shoving his blade deep into his stomach. Once he was done he put away his sword. He turned back towards you, and it was him again, Sandor. 

He bent his knee to you and spoke softly “You’re alright now, little bird, you're alright.” He said as he picked you up in both arms and carried you back to safety. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧

As the two of you entered the keep Tyrion was shocked. 

Once Sandor placed you down gently, a few ladies including Sansa rushed to your side pawing at your bloody face. 

“My Lady are you hurt?” Tyrion asked as he tried to assess whether the blood on your mouth and hands were yours or not. 

“Little birds hurt, get her back to her cage. See that cut on her head.” Sandor commanded the women as he walked away, 

as he did Tyrion shouted back to him. “Well done, Clegane.”

To which Sandor responded, 

“I didn’t do it for you.” 

Tyrion, confused by his words, went back to your side and asked again before your ladies could take you away. “My lady, are you hurt? There’s blood- your hands and-“ he said reaching his to touch your chin where the blood from your mouth dropped. 

“I bit one.” You said plainly, exhaustion in your eyes, unwilling to attempt that you’d murdered a man. 

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

As you laid in your bed that night, you looked at the one candle you had burning beside your bed. Contemplating whether or not to blow it out. Watching the flame kept your mind away from the memories you’d made today. You’d never seen such horrid things before, and much less partook in them. You’d killed a man. And yet, felt no remorse, which made you feel terrible, but maybe that alone counted for something. But soon even that left as your memories shifted to the feeling of being in Sandor's arms. 

Before you could blow it out, 

you began to hear the sounds of metal clanking up the hall. Sandor thought you’d never notice, but he often walked up and down your halls more than he was meant to. Simply to make sure you were alright. 

Every time you heard the metal clanking pass you’d smile to yourself. Only this time it stopped, in front of your door. You sat up slightly on your elbows and peered towards the door. Without knocking, he came inside your chamber. 

“What’re you doing here?” You asked in a whisper. 

He didn’t respond, but made his way to that same golden pitcher in the corner of your room. 

“It’s water, remember?” You said. He huffed and put it back down without taking a swig of it. 

“What are you-” You began before he spoke in a low deep husky voice. 

“You could’ve been killed.” He said without looking at you. 

“But I wasn’t.” You said in a sweet whisper.

He began to walk towards your bed. “The fucking cunts would ‘ave taken you bloody every which way, that pretty throat would’ve been slit open. You’d been left for the fucking rats.” 

You took his hand and pulled him onto the bed, his metal scrapping the delicate sheets as he sat on it. 

“You saved me, you’re the bravest man I’ve ever seen.” You said with a strange kind of adornment, one he’d never heard before. 

“Brave?” He dryly scoffed, “Dogs don't need courage to chase rats.” 

“You’re no dog.” You say with that same sweet whisper, it’s as if you’d realized you’d began to fall deeper into whatever emotional trap you two had created here. 

“You killed that man?” He asked in a low whisper. 

“I did.”

“How’d that feel.” 

“Necessary.” 

He stared at you for a moment, not in judgment or disgust but in understanding and some other emotion you couldn’t quite understand just yet. 

“You can’t do that again.” 

“Kill?” 

“No.” His eyebrows furrowed, he couldn’t give less of a shit who you killed or why, “You risked your life for that Stark girl.” 

“You saw that?” 

“She kept yapping about it.” His tone husky 

“I needed her safe first.”

“Too bad.” He said not giving you any room to argue as his thumb ran over the cut on your eyebrow, you winced slightly. “I’d kill those cock sucking rats a million times again if I could. Died too quickly. I should have cut their arms off, their hands, taken their eyes for even looking at you.” 

Your hand came to his jaw, pulling yourself to his lips but he pulled away. with a sigh he came close again. He rested his forehead on yours. 

“I don’t know how to- do this- gently.” He let out a small rumble, “fuck” he hissed “i want to do this gently. I want to be gentle with you.”

He was like a dog given a bone that he so badly wanted to preserve. 

His hand came to your lap, and fisted the fabric of your nightgown. You placed your hands on top of his, you smoothed out his hand to lay flat on your lap. 

“Like this..” you whispered as you guided his hand up, making the fabric ride up. As your thighs became more and more visible he stopped and backed away, 

“No, no this isn’t right.” He grumbled as he walked over towards a large chair in the corner of your room. His face was illuminated by that single candle light. You could see his frustration and desperation in a battle with one another. 

You stood, and walked towards him. He slumped forwards. Resting his forearms against his strong thighs. 

“I can’t be what you wan- what you need.” He corrected. His voice was low and deep. 

You pushed him back by his shoulders, making him lean against the back of the chair. His deep scowl was ever present but it didn’t stop you from running your fingers through his coarse hair. 

“I shouldn’t have come back here. Should’ve stayed the fuck away. Left you be,” 

“I don’t think either of us have much a choice.” You said as you moved yourself between his large thighs. Standing in front of him still running your hands through his hair. “Do you think of that night?” You asked in a whisper. 

“Fuck do you think-“ He barked back before you stopped him, 

“Gentle.” You corrected him 

“Aye.” He conceded painfully, his hands coming to your sides holding you by your waist. His large hands engulfed your ribs. 

“What part of it do you think of?” You whispered sweetly as you began to move on top of him. Your thighs spread across his as you straddled him. His eyes never leave yours. 

He grumbled something low, you couldn’t make it out, but it sounded like “Your eyes.” 

You didn’t want to push him, to make him repeat it. 

Your hand cupped his chin, as you slowly pressed your lips against his. You pecked at his lips for a moment. Then pulling away, looking into his eyes waiting for his response. His eyes filled with shame, he looked away. 

You pressed a kiss into the scarred tissue on his cheek, he flinched at the feelings and his eyes darted back to you, 

“My face, why did you-“ He rasped suddenly 

“Don’t you want me?” 

“Course’ I do but I-“ he cut himself off as his lips hit yours once again, he sucked on your lips as hardly audible groans escaped his throat. 

You pressed your thinly clothed cunt against his hardening bulge. However as soon as he felt it he grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up. You whined, and his forehead slumped forward and rested on your chest. “Fuck-“ he said breathlessly, “Can’t do that shit to me.” he panted. 

“Why?” you whined a little too loudly, his grip on you tightened. 

“Told you, stubborn fucking girl.” He finally caught his breathe, “Ye poke at me too much and i’ll fuck you bloody.” His eyes leaving yours in what looked like guilt.

“That’s what I want-“ 

“Don’t matter.” He snipped back quickly, his eyes snapping back to yours. “Once you're wed that imp will stick his cock in ya’ and know you’re not his.” He said, his words harsh, sharp and cold 

“I’m not.” you said, his eyes went a little wide, with what? adornment? 

You slowly lowered your hips onto his once again. Waiting for his push back but were met with none. You let out a small gasp as the bulge separated your lips through the thin fabric that covered your cunt. Another moan left your lips once you felt the hardened mound poke at your entrance. You grinded against it, your cunt began to clench around nothing. 

“At’s it” He groaned into your neck, “Grin’ yerself on my cock.” He grumbled low and deep. 

His face contorted, his muscles tensed, and his groans became more and more primal. His grip on your hips began to sting a little how tightly he held you. Your cheeks began to heat up, and that knot in your stomach tightened. 

He picked you up abruptly, kissing your neck. 

“On your back, now.” He commanded as he placed you onto the fur rug on your bed chambers floor. 

He untied his breeches that clearly had a wet spot on it, unclear if it was your doing or his. He was still fully covered in his armor, as he pulled out his cock. Harder than you’d seen it before. 

You rode up your night gown to your hips and slipped out of the thin underclothes you’d had on. 

He was on his knees before you, you on your back, legs bent and spread, ready and inviting. 

He stared at you, admiring you. 

He placed his heavy aching member between your folds. Rubbing up and down, his tip hitting your clit in the most perfect way. 

He pressed your thighs together, and he let out a long drawn out groan. 

“Fuck!” He hissed as he began to buck himself against your cunt. “So fuckin’ wet” He growled as his bucking continued in a more erratic pace. 

You arched your back and squeezed your thighs together as his fat tip kept hitting your clit

“Don’t- Don’t stop.” You whimpered looking up at his hair falling into his face, his eyes trailing all over you, from your wet thighs to your breasts that bounced with every thrust to your pouting lips all the way back to your eyes. 

“Not fuckin’ stopping.” He said through gritted teeth. “But,” He was stopped by a deep guttural moan, “Don’t look at me like that.” He said panting, “You’ll make me finish too quickly.” He said once more through gritted teeth. 

You took it as a challenge, stubborn as you were. You gave him a smile, and a giggle. 

“Fuckin' stubborn girl.” He said through gritted teeth, then picking you up and turning you around. Your back flesh with his armored chest. 

He pressed your thighs together again, and pushed his cock back in between them, but slightly missing and catching your entrance. Even though he graced it only slightly you moaned so beautifully it almost made him cum right then. That's when you realized how truly lovely it would feel to have him inside of you. 

“I want it inside” You moaned as one of your arms reached over and behind you to wrap around his broad shoulders. While your other hand held his large forearm that draped over your stomach holding you in place. 

“Can’t do that to you.” He said breathlessly, as his other hand removed the straps of your gown. As it fell to your waist, he cupped your breasts, his large hand completely engulfing it. 

You whined again. You didn’t care if you were ruined, you wanted to be. But you couldn’t force him. 

His tongue and teeth danced along your neck, you begged in your mind that he’d bite down or suck on your skin but no, never. Never to burden you with evidence that this ever happened. 

You felt that heat rise and the knot in your belly begin to snap. He could feel you clenching and it produced a vulgar moan from him, 

“That’s alright, you can cum,” He grunted, as he said that you moved your head back and faced him. “MH-” He gave you a sloppy and passionate kiss to mute your moan as you came over his cock. As your high was ridden out, he continued to thrust, he separated the kiss and looked deeply into your now exhausted and satisfied eyes, “Sandor” You whispered, sweetly, “Sandor,” 

He didn’t break your eye contact, his teeth gritted as he tried to hold back his moans as he began to spill out and over your thighs, “(Y/N)” He growled with a final deep and long thrust. 

As you laid there, on the fur rug of your room catching your breath. He laid with you. 

You peered over to him, “I meant what I said.” He peered over to you, raising one eyebrow. “I’m not his.” You said softly. 

“Aye.” He looked away, “But for your sake he’d better think you are.” He said in a low husky voice. 

You raised your hand to his scarred cheek, you began to run your fingers over it when he pulled away. 

“I don’t mind it, really,” You whispered. 

“Every one fucking minds it.” He hissed 

“I don’t.” You said back defiantly 

He huffed, and laid there in silence, he looked over at you, feelings somewhat bad he’d snapped at you. ‘Gentle’ he remembered. 

“When I was a boy, my brother caught me with one of his toys. Thought I stole it. I didn’t, just playing with it. Pressed my head to the fire. All like Baelish told you.” He let out another sigh, “But the worst part was that it was my brother who did it. And my father who protected him. Told everyone my bedding caught fire.” 

You moved closer to him and rested your head on his chest. You tried to listen to his heart beating through the armor, only making out a few muffled thumps. Your eyes heavy, closed soon enough. 

When you woke in the middle of the night you were in your alone bed, your legs were cleaned and you were dressed. 

And 

Your candle was out.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

Every Morning since the riots you were awoken by a handmaiden, sometimes two. They’d dress you in red or gold. Braiding your hair, being sure to put lots of intricate, and no doubt expensive hair pins in it. You were beginning to feel more like the ornate decor that was scattered around kings landing than you felt like an actual woman anymore. 

As you walked the halls your handmaidens were like guards, guards of a prisoner. 

You passed a mirror as you walked and caught a glimpse of yourself, hardly recognizable. “As high as honour” what a joke you thought. Look at you now, looking more and more like a Lannister with each passing day. The red and gold you were forced to wear was a stark contrast from the blues and silvers you’d grown to love. But now you’d really had no home. You didn’t align yourself with the rest of your house anymore either. Lysa and Robin felt like intruders in your home, and they treated you the same. And now, Baelish was a true intruder in it. Being allowed in by your stepmother who’d no right to allow him entrance. Entrance to your home and now your titles. Rightfully yours. 

To gain your titles the Lannister's were your only hope now, so for now you’d be Cersei’s doll and Tyrion's wife. For now, you’d play along. 

But where did that leave Sandor?

You knew that first night he was angry, not at you. He was angry you were the one thing he couldn’t protect. You were his master's thing and couldn’t stop them from toying with you. He was angry you were the only thing he’d ever wanted, and just like everything he couldn’t have. He was angry he couldn’t tell you how much he wanted you. 

And the second night, he was scared, and vulnerable. 

You’d stopped eating since the riot. Normally, that would have gone unnoticed. However your now doting husband has made sure to keep eyes on you at all times. Your handmaidens are unwilling to engage in an argument with you knowing you aren’t the person to pick a fight with, told Tyrion. 

As your ladies ceaselessly brought you trays of food whilst you attempted to lounge on your balcony while you read you simply waved your hand at each tray, now not even bothering with a “No, thank you.” As it didn’t seem to stop them. 

Tyrion stepped onto the balcony, your eyes went towards him but snapped back onto your book as soon as you knew who was joining your handmaidens in disturbing your peace. 

“Lord Tyrion.” You said in greeting, hardly exerting any energy into it. You would have felt badly about discarding your virtue once more for another man if he’d hadn’t made you feel even more like a prisoner. 

“Lady (Y/N)” He said back, sitting across from you, “What are you reading?”

“Something of little consequence,” You said, closing the book and looking over your shoulder at the women who surrounded you “May we be left alone?” You asked, the women didn’t budge but looked to Tyrion who nodded at them, once at his command they left. 

“They don’t listen to me.” You said with harsh eyes. 

“I told them not to.” He said with a huff as he repositioned himself in his seat and putting on a half hearted smile. 

“Did you tell them to dress me like this too?” You said tossing the closed book to the side table next to you. 

“I asked them to help you fit in,” He said, leaning closer to you, his eyes filled with some kind of concern. “Joffrey has a tendency to single you out I wanted to see if I could correct that... Aesthetically.. Cersei had some dresses made for you and-”

“If you wish for me to continue to view you favorably, you are failing.” You said stoically, "Was I inadequate before?"

"No- no I-" He stopped himself, “I just want to do all I can to ensure your safety.” He conceded. You did appreciate it, but your need for freedom overweighed that appreciation heavily.

You sighed and looked away, off towards the near distant ocean of blue. You fidgeted with your new golden rings on your fingers. “And, you’re not eating.” He said in a lower tone, 

“And, you’re spying on me?” You said now focusing back on him. 

“Your ladies told me-” 

“Your ladies.” You corrected. 

“I am concerned. Ever since the riots you’ve not eaten a meal.” He huffed, “You need to eat. Name any food you want and I wish to have it made.” 

“I don’t want to eat.” You responded bluntly.  

“I am your husband to be, It is my duty-”

“Your duty? Your duty to imprison me in this place, in this engagement?” Your angry scowl dropped soon as you realized how cutting your words were. To him he was keeping you from further harm, and you knew that. You sighed and looked back to the sea, “It is hard for me to eat, it is hard for me to sleep.”

“Tell me how to help and I will.” He said almost pleading as he leaned forward and held his hands out palms up. "I’d do anything for my lady wife.” The words ‘lady wife’ made you want to vomit, especially after the previous night. 

“I want to go home. I want to claim my titles.” 

“You and I both.” He said with a dry chuckle. “I have wanted to claim my own birthrights long enough to know the feeling.”

“Were they stolen from under your grieving feet by Petyr Baelish?” 

“No-”

“Mine were. And I am powerless to stop it, because I sit here in this castle in these red gowns and Lannister gold. I am presenting myself as indifferent to my own birthright being stolen from me.” You sighed, “I understand what you are trying to do. I do, I may be angry but I do understand. But you need to understand this, in doing what you feel is protecting me, whether it is or is not, you have taken whatever independence I had left.”

“I understand.” He said sitting back into his seat, “And I will do all I can to help you proclaim your titles. But, it would seem Stannis aims to attack this city.” 

“Stannis Baretheon?” You asked in some confusion, no one ever told you anything.

“It seems we are not the only ones who wish to claim titles.” He said in an attempt to jest, “So we're not the men to fight for you yet, however we aim to win this war. Once it is, I will see to it that your titles are restored.” 

You smiled, “Thank you, Tyrion.” Although not in the slightest comforted by the idea of war approaching your doorstep

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆

As you walked down the halls of the castle you were hit with a brick wall, Sandor. 

“you’re not eating.” Sandor said in a hushed but deep and husky tone

“How’d you-” You began before he interrupted you. 

“All those fucking handmaidens tell the royals.” He said in annoyance

“I eat when I'm hungry. haven’t been in a while.” 

“you don’t eat, you’ll starve.” His voice was like he was warning you.

“unlikely. That takes time. Stannis aims to attack the city. I'm sure I'll be dead then.” You responded stoically.

“You won’t die.” He said as if it were fact,

“How can you be certain?” You retorted defiantly 

“Cause I fucking said so.” He said stomping off, his cape flowing behind him.

NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens I hope you like this one!!! The next two are going to be a wittle cwazy just a warning... ALSO yall I wrote the smut part during jury duty LMAO... anyways

Also the last few chapters have gotten so much love and I am so very grateful thank you!!! <3

[sunflowerwizard]

I've seen enough people mischaracterizing Early Access Wyll, so here's the best breakdown of his original character I can give.

I'll start this off by plainly summarizing Wyll's EA backstory, some of his core personality traits, then do a bit of analysis.

BACKSTORY

EA Wyll mentions being "born and bred in the upper city" into nobility. It's unspecified what exact level of influence his family occupied.

In datamined voice lines from EA (take with a grain of salt) Wyll refers to being from House Eltan specifically. Eltan was the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate in the first Baldur's Gate Game, and the founder of the Flaming Fist. Forgotten Realms lore states that the Eltans are no longer in charge of the Fist and have somewhat diminished in power, but again. We don't know to exactly what level.

This also means that this iteration of Wyll was not Ulder Ravengard's son. While he still spoke about his father in EA, the descriptions and characterizations do not line up with Ulder at all. Additionally, he comments about "knowing of" Ravengard during the burning inn sequence, but otherwise makes no connection.

The most damning evidence of all that Wyll being a Ravengard was not originally intended, is Wyll wanting to be like his father and thus "going thieving in the wrong shadows".

Wyll gets caught stealing, presumably as a teenager, and his father uses latent connections within the Flaming Fist to get Wyll sent there. Effectively the fantasy equivalent of sending your unruly kid to boot camp.

Wyll mentions that he didn't adjust well to life as part of the Flaming Fist, was not a very good fighter, and was generally not well liked. The goblin at the windmill calling Wyll "Captain Failure" implies he might have been given higher status despite not earning it.

The way Wyll feels about goblins is a big change between EA and full release, and is explained as part of his backstory.

We didn't get the finer details, but we can assume Wyll in his time with the Fist bore witness to a group of goblins razing a village. Horrified and enraged, he tried fighting a goblin, was overwhelmed, and had his eye torn out.

This is when Mizora showed up and offered him a pact. Considering he was left for dead and probably going to bleed out, it's pretty understandable why he took the deal.

Mizora is not nearly as present in Early Access as she is in the current game. Karlach was not involved in Wyll's story at all, there's no devil transformation.

It's also more heavily insinuated there's a sexually coercive element of Wyll and Mizora's relationship, with him speaking to how every time he wanted to leave her, she found some way to pull him back.

Additionally, Wyll wants out of that contract. Unlike full release where Mizora is randomly captured in Act 2, she starts off kidnapped, and insists she'll let Wyll go if he frees her

It kind of ended up being a plot cul de sac, but Torturer Spike was the goblin that took Wyll's eye--which was a quest item you could pickpocket/loot off his body. Wyll had commentary on it and everything.

TL;DR: -Born to a noble family with Flaming Fist connections -Caught Stealing and sent to work for the Fist as punishment -Tried to fight back during a goblin attack and was gravely injured -Mizora offers a pact -Uses his pact to become a traveling monster hunter, presumably to make up for his past failure to protect people. Antagonistic towards goblins in particular -Ultimately wants out of the pact, but Mizora won't let him go -Wyll and Mizora get abducted by Mind Flayers -Mizora agrees to let Wyll go if he frees her from the cultists

PERSONALITY

This is a bit less concrete than changed story beats, but I can say this: a lot of Wyll's core traits stayed intact between EA and full release. He's still willing to put his life on the line for the Tiefling refugees, with a whole cut line about how the kids he's training deserve to have a carefree childhood. He wants to do good in the world, probably because he spent so much time in his youth feeling like a fuck up.

There's also a much clearer divide between "Wyll" and "The Blade of Frontiers". Notably, in EA he didn't introduce himself by name. Not even a "my friends call me Wyll" quip at Shadowheart like he has currently. During his old romance scene, he has a line about being used to being the hero, and not used to needing one. He's a symbol. An emblem of something bigger than himself. The fact he's so self-aggrandizing as The Blade makes it apparent he's not confident in himself as "just Wyll"

He's also decidedly more forward and flirty in EA, with no reservations about courtship. In fact, the main obstacle to your budding relationship is Mizora herself. Wyll's trauma from her treatment interrupts your first night together. Whether you have sex or just snuggle, Wyll has a line about how he doesn't want to start a relationship until he can "give himself completely" after being freed from his pact.

THOUGHTS & COMPARISONS

I'm also not entirely sure if I'd say EA Wyll is substantially angrier than current Wyll, so much as he had more opportunities to be angry during Early Access. I can understand why the goblin stuff was cut, because it did dip into "Let's make the one black guy fantasy racist" trope. However, it did very much feel like the narrative was pointing in bright, flashing colors that this is a trait Wyll would have to grapple with, learn, and grow from. The fact EA Wyll's most glaring character flaw was scrapped and didn't get much of a replacement in full release makes his story feel less realized.

While I appreciate the overtly sexual element of Wyll and Mizora's relationship was removed, I feel like the final version is somehow even more creepy. During Early Access she existed in the background as a vague villain you only experience via Wyll. And if you do his romance scene and see the way he panics at the mere memory of her, you get the impression of oh shit. This broad is bad news and I've gotta get my boy out of there. The same principle behind not showing the big scary monster too early in the horror movie. Once you've seen it, you can't let your mind fill in the blanks. Mizora went from this intimidating figure whose motives you couldn't fully ascertain, to a mean girl that thinks she's smarter than everyone else but is really just the bumbling lackey of a bigger fish. Who pulls Wyll around with an actual metaphysical leash like a dog. And you're meant to find this sexy.

My final point, and I've said this before: current Wyll's personality seemed more suited to being a scion of house Eltan, while EA Wyll seemed more suited to being Ulder Ravengard's dissapointment son. Current Wyll speaks and carries him like someone raised in nobility despite only being elevated to such status as a teenager. Perhaps this is cynical and maybe even a bit of a conspiracy theory, but I genuinely think he's only Ravengard's son to save on time and assets. Why give Wyll a whole unique family with its own story when we can just tie him in to the "rescue the grand duke" plot, regardless of how much sense it makes!