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slutshamethesquirrels · 3 days

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Suguru Blue - Part 3

Pairing: cult leader!geto x reader

Word Count (Part 3): 4K

Warnings: dub-con, rough sex, mentions of violence, sexual trauma, murder, mind games

From then on, he was playing a new game. One he’d never before played, and one he wasn't very fond of. He’d always been a sore loser.

It was part of his problem with Satoru all those years ago. The white haired beauty had forever been two steps ahead of him in almost every facet, whether that be skill or strength or sheer willpower. Satoru was always just a bit better in every way. An inch or two taller, a smartass retort just a second quicker, the bravery to kiss another boy just seconds before he himself had built up the confidence to do so. It was only natural that the only person who could be even more prideful than himself was Gojo. He knew he had no chance of convincing him to join himself in his defection; to do so would be convincing him they were on the losing side of history.

When the time came, he couldn't even look at him, knowing the ultramarine eyes of someone who once trusted- once loved him were boring holes in the back of his skull. But in a way, he'd finally won. The victory wasn't sweet. Going back on that decision would be to admit defeat yet again, so he never had.

Victory tasted a lot like curses sometimes, he decided, but not as intense. Less of an assault on your tastebuds and more of a kind of bile and acid constantly lodged in the back of his throat. Perhaps it was his urge to finally taste something a little sweeter that had him bending over backwards for you.

It was uncomfortable at first, practicing your stupid therapy terms. Boundaries strangled him. Coping Mechanisms felt like a serrated knife to his jugular. Repairing and Rebuilding felt like getting tossed down the stairs of some abandoned hotel by a first-grade curse at sixteen years old, every step knocking the wind from his chest.

It was helping, though. Whether he liked it or not. His first real reality check had come not from you, but from Nanako, who’d casually pointed out over breakfast how happy he’d seemed recently. He didn’t know if that word had ever been used to describe him, and he wasn’t sure he’d use it himself.

And still. This had to be at least close, right?

Here, on the couch with you, some old band he didn’t know emanating from the television, the screen just bright enough to cast shadows on the walls of your living room. There’s a faint acknowledgement swirling in the back of his brain that there was midday sunlight streaming in through the windows when he’d settled here with you nestled against the plush of the sofa, but he can’t care, not when your giggles are flooding his ears, your shoulders shaking against him as you scroll through social media. In the past fifteen minutes or so, you’d found an account full of cat videos, and he’d found himself entranced by just how easily you were amused.

He was learning a lot about you. You didn’t have many friends, but the ones you did were incredibly good ones (“Quality over quantity”, you’d said.) , you preferred fruity sweets to chocolate ones, you had the most irritating habit of getting in bed with your socks on and then kicking them off in the night. Each new detail was a brush stroke, your quail feather pen dipping into indigo ink and broadening his horizons, somehow without the slightest hint of knowledge about his world.

He wanted to tell you, to kneel at your altar and confess his transgressions, but he couldn't even expect God to have mercy on him, much less a monkey- human girl.

In another world, another life, somewhere far away from reality it’s different. He decides as he twirls his fingers through a loc of your hair, watching the way the lapis glow from your phone screen makes it shine. It's just the three of you; You, Satoru and himself. The two of you fight over who gets to sleep in the middle damn near nightly, and he ends up taking the spot for himself. He swears it's to stop the bickering, but the truth is he loves the way your individual breaths caress either side of his neck. It is because he feels the best trapped underneath the weight of the both of you. It's because he knows you'll fall asleep first and he'll get the last kiss from Satoru, but not before he watches one half of his soul trace the other one's sleeping features with his fingers-

“Hello? So far away.” Your voice cuts through the fantasy, and he’s ripped back into reality, clearing his throat as if he'd just been caught doing something wrong before humming in acknowledgment. You had a habit of making him feel raw, but right. Like a callous cut from a heel. Tender, painful, exposed, refreshed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You prod again when he doesn’t elaborate, and he chuckles.

“Just a penny? I’ll have you know, these are expensive ideas-”.

“A nickel then.”.

“Quarter.”.

“Okay, listen dude. I know the economy’s bad but holy shit.”.

He smirks as you discard your phone on the table and crawl up his body until you’re straddling his abdomen, his hands gently cradling your waist. It's the closest you’ve allowed him to get in a while, and it makes his skin itch. Though if he's honest, he doesn't know what to do when you finally let him truly touch you again. These days you felt more fragile than you used to, or maybe that wasn't the word he was looking for.

Not fragile, but delicate.

You were healing just as much as he was. Every time he saw you it seemed he made a new mistake. When he would move too fast and you’d jump, only to grab his hand and assure him you were okay. When he'd get a little too quiet, furrow his brow in thought and catch you staring at him like a deer in headlights. When he rolled over to hold you in the middle of the night last week and you’d awoken in a complete panic, desperately crawling away from him and gasping your safe word before he’d reoriented you.

“Blue!”

He didn't want to be the cause of your nightmares. And yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Not even for your own good. He’d done that before. This time, he was determined to do it differently.

Your hand moves to brush his hair back away from his face, and his eyes flutter shut almost as if to spite him. Vulnerable, raw. Hurts.

He's unsure if he's annoyed by or thankful for the shrill and sudden ringing emanating from the pocket of his hoodie, and at this hour there was really only one option for who it could be. And no matter how much he enjoyed his time with you, they would always come first. He can't explain why it is that he grabs the front of your shirt to keep you there as he shifts and produces his phone from his pocket and presses it to his ear. There's something in him that craves the pain, it seems.

Nanako doesn't wait for him to greet her before she starts.

“Are you coming home or not?!”

Somewhere in the distance he hears her twin chastising her for being so rude, and he cracks a fond grin at the sound, his eyes watching his own hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt as he argues with her. Yes, he's aware he’d been away quite a bit in the past week. No, of course he didn't hate them or wish them a slow and painful death. Yes, he would be home when they awoke in the morning. Yes, they could go out for breakfast.

When his eyes meet yours again your brow is furrowed, confusion twisting your pretty features.

“Who was that?” You ask, and he notices your shoulders growing tense. You didn't fully trust him yet, like a dog that had been wounded by a hand that was supposed to lead.

He flips through his repertoire of rules. Communication, honesty, vulnerability. Did it count when it came to his home life? Of course, he could never be completely honest with you, or at least not anytime soon. There was a large part of him that hoped he'd meet his end before he was cornered into breaking your heart like that. You were the only one that could make him feel real guilt. It was the one thing you possessed that Satoru didn't. Regardless, he had to at least try, to give you what he could.

“My kids.” His grip on you tightens as he watches emotion swirl in your eyes, unwilling to let you mentally or physically run from him until he could explain.

“They're not my blood. Fate brought us together when I was around nineteen. They were in a bad place, so was I. At the time, I think all three of us needed someone who understood… we just kind of never left each other.”

You soften a bit and he mirrors you, melting back into the couch as you seem to relax some. He loves that feeling, he realizes. There's some sort of reward center in his body that seems to be triggered only by your approval. It feels like when he used to steal Satoru's expensive jackets in the winter. Warm. Heavy.

“Nineteen is really young to take on two kids.” You murmur.

He can't exactly wrap his head around the way you're looking at him, so he just pulls you down into the crook of his neck instead, wrapping his arms around your frame.

“You're correct. Of all the mistakes I’ve made, though, that's not one of them. I’d do it all over again for them.”

“You're sweet.”

He doesn't respond, too focused on the way your breath is fanning across his neck to argue with you.

***

He can't justify his actions.

None of them. He’d never made a single rational decision in his life, actually. Geto was a rollercoaster of contradictions and conundrums, but somehow things always worked out. He survived, preserved, weathered the storm time and time again. His foundation was solid, though the paint on his walls weathered and the windows of his soul were cracked and patched with trash bags and duct tape.

He’d always been strong. Resolute. Assured.

So why, then, was he here? Standing at the door of your apartment in the dead of night, trying to find the will in himself to knock? Like you might reject him? You had every right to reject him. You should reject him.

He needed you. Never in his life had he needed anyone, but he was certain the weight in his stomach would crush him if he couldn't see you. Quickly. You’d become a strange safe haven for his sensitivities, something he wasn't all that happy about. It was like being stranded on a sinking ship.

Alone, he'd be able to consign himself to his fate, nothing but indigo waves spanning for miles around him. He could find a sense of calm in the inevitable.

You were a lighthouse. A beacon of hope in the distance. You gave him the idea that there was a way out of his fate, and with it, all the anxiety of chasing that faith. You gave him a chance, choice, and raised the stakes to desperate levels. Without you, there would be none.

He isn't sure what's worse, but he knocks anyway.

It takes you a minute and a few more rounds of knocking, but just when he's about to turn on his heel the door swings open.

“Suguru?” The half question comes through a yawn as one of your hands moves to scrub at your eyes with a balled fist. He’d feel bad for waking you if you didn't look so angelic in your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt. Your knotted hair frames your face in a way that makes you look younger, softer, more vulnerable.

He immediately feels a little lighter.

“I-”

Right. Here he was, running to you for comfort, with no good excuse as to why. He didn't even understand it himself.

“I had a nightmare.” He can't look at you when he says it.

A small hum escapes you, along with a yawn, and then you’re stepping to the side, motioning him in. He hopes you're too tired to notice the tension in his gate, the way his skin bristles like he’s stepped past the barrier of a veil and directly into a domain, like there was a guaranteed hit barreling his way and he could do nothing but his best to protect himself. He’d walked the floor of your apartment so many times, slept in your bed, ate at your table– so why now did it feel foreign? Why did the click of your lock behind him sound like the cock of Toji Fushiguro’s revolver?

He shouldn’t have come here. Not in such a chaotic state. He should’ve waited until the sun was out, until the sky was painted a much lighter shade of blue; one that wasn’t so difficult to see through.

Your fingers find his wrist, tugging him lazily back to a bed he considered sacred.

He lets you.

He lets you get settled, guide him forward, pull him down to you with delicate fingers on his arms, his shoulders, his jaw– until you’re tucking him into the crook of your neck, undoing the hasty bun he’d made out of his hair on his way over, massaging his scalp with your fingers– soothing him.

“I’m too heavy for you, y/n.”

It was true in more ways than you could possibly conceive of, but you only pull more of his body weight over your frame until your drowning in his hair, his broad shoulders, his battle-sculpted arms. The large scars that form an ‘x’ on his chest brush against the fabric of his tshirt, and it feels like they might tear open once again.

“Don’t care.” You sigh out, dipping one hand below the fabric of his shirt you rake your nails lightly along his back. He shudders, watches the way the moonlight streaming in through the window dances across his forearm, illuminating the scars you’d blessed him with.

He didn’t know where all his scars had come from, to keep count would be pointless. He kept track of the important ones, though. The four on his arm, the two across his chest, the bite mark on the inside of his thigh from where Satoru had gotten just a little too rough back in the sweltering dark of his dorm room. Sex was always like that with Satoru, with himself. Less of an act of love, and more one of consumption, of control, of power– of revenge. Another game to win.

“You deserve better.” He argues, self assured in at least that.

“I don’t want better.” You’re just as resolute as he is.

He lifts his head to protest, but you silence him by pressing your lips to his. It’s a comfort and a curse, a gentle hand and a closed fist, a lullaby and a jolt of electricity that makes every neuron in his body fire off in quick succession.

How long has it been since you kissed him? Did it always feel like this?

“Please.” The pathetic word escapes him before he can stop it. Would humans always be his weakness? You brought new meaning to the idea.

Another kiss, and then two, and then three. Chaste, gentle motions that burned worse than any fire he’d ever faced. His whimpers sing a song of mercy, knuckles ice white as he grips the bedsheets behind your head, head diving forward for more, more, more–

He wanted to consume you, swallow you down like one of his curses, pull you out when it benefited him, telepathically know where you are at all times, trap you in his web of darkness and chaos and never ever let you leave him. He licks into your mouth and you release a gasp that makes his stomach clench.

“Suguru.”

It sounds like a warning. His lips tremble when he parts from you, and he just can't move back as much as he knows you’d probably prefer. He rests his forehead against yours, keeps his eyes shut, breathes in deep drawls of your breath, whispers an apology.

Your hands card through his hair.

“You're really pretty, you know that?”

He peeks at you through heavy lids “So I've been told.”.

You roll your eyes and he grins, sly but genuine.

“I’m trying to be nice to you, dickhead.”.

This time, he giggles childishly as your hands push at his shoulders, guiding him flat on his back so you can straddle is waist. It's almost ridiculous, the way the heat of your body turns his insides to a blended mess of organs and raw emotions. His heart swells, his lungs tighten, his stomach flips, his cock twitches.

Your hands slip under his shirt, palms stroking against his skin as you slide it up over his head and toss it to the side. His abdomen flexes under the soft skin of your hands. Your fingers dance along the scars, trace his rigid form.

Your mouth replaces your hands, wet warm silk gliding down his chest, swirling methodically, flicking over his nipples. He gasps for air, fists your hair, trembles against the urge to fight you, begs himself to take your worship. He had no problem accepting it from anyone else, after all.

“You’re shaking” You note, but don't stop your assault on his senses, licking one long stripe from his naval to his neck, the way his back arches is mortifying.

It feels like forever you stay there, exchanging spit, moans, blotting each other purple with no teeth. All suction, pressure, aching.

When he finally dips his fingers past the band of your sweatpants he's met with an obscene amount of slick. He circles your clit a few times, swiping your whines out of your mouth with his tongue, panting when you get impatient all too quickly, reaching down to guide his fingers into your body.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, but he already knows the answer.

“More.”

Who was he to deny you?

It isn't long before you become insatiable, finding yourself sinking down on his cock with his sweats still gripping his thighs and your shirt still clinging to your frame, damp with sweat.

He loves the way you look when he splits you apart, lips quivering and brow furrowed as you struggle to accommodate him. He loves hollowing you out, carving a place for just him to nestle deep inside your pretty little body. He loves the way your pussy clenches, sucks him in, holds tight like he was meant to be slotted inside you, jerking against your cervix, painting you from the inside out with his precum.

He helps you, guides your hips as you bounce desperately against him, chasing your high shamelessly, melting his brain with every moan. Electricity strikes his body with each stroke, his muscles jerk in tandem.

You struggle when you get close, your thighs jerking against your own desire, pace stuttering. He thinks it's precious, the way you're edging yourself to tears with your sheer inability to keep up with yourself.

Eventually, though, he does find a bit of mercy within himself, flipping you over on your back, fucking into you steadily, toying with your clit.

You dig red stripes into his back as you come unglued, sink your teeth into his already bruised shoulder. He hopes the burn never fades.

When he cums, he doesn't pull out, stuffs you full of him, hopes you can feel it in your soul. Your legs lock around his waist, hips rut animalistically against him, making sure nothing goes to waste.

He can't win this game, he tells himself as he watches you sleep, traces your features with his fingers. There was no world in which you were safe. Not in this timeline, but maybe the next.

Which game was more childish? Thinking he could change anything for Satoru? Or thinking he could change anything for you?

He falls asleep with you nestled in his grip, sometime after the sky turns a bright baby blue.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #geto suguru #jjk x reader #ao3 fanfic #geto x reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto smut #cc!geto #minor stsg

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varpusvaras · 1 day

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Dick had many soulmarks.

Not as many as someone would've thought, probably, with the amount of friends that he had, but still many. They adorned his forearm like jewelry, circling around his skin in intricate patterns. Every single one of them just as beautiful as the other, just like the people they belonged to. Dick thought every single one of them as a blessing.

He had done so especially after the first two had faded away.

They were still there, of course. Nothing could ever truly erase a mark on someone's soul, after all. Not even death. Dick would've been even more devastated if the marks would've disappeared with his parents, even if sometimes looking at the now liveless marks hurt.

They had hurt, physically, when it had happened. When the bodies had hit the ground and Dick's heart had been ripped into pieces, the marks had burned, searing hot white pain latching onto him, pulling at his skin the same as his heart.

Not that Dick had really noticed it, then. He had been hurting too much otherwise to really care about it in the moment.

He had latched onto every new mark with all of his heart afterwards. It had hurt, when Bruce's had appeared, as it made the white, faded color of his parents' marks stand out even more, but the joy had been enough to chase the hurt away. Alfred's had not hurt nearly as much, and with his friends, he had simply been happy.

Dick would've never said it out loud, but he did have favorites. His parents', even faded. He didn't think anyone would blame him for that one. Bruce's, in a sense, as it had been the first live one he had gained.

His absolute favorite, though?

Jason's.

Jason was...different. He wasn't his parents, nor was he his caretaker. He had no obligations to Dick, even if obligations did not really affect the formation of the marks. He wasn't Dick's friend, either, not the same way anyone in the team was.

He was Dick's little brother.

And Dick would've given him the world.

Jason had been ecstatic when the marks had appeared, and, to be perfectly honest, so had Dick. They were such beautiful marks too, the lines twisting around themselves to form images of wings in flight, shining when light hit them just right, every new angle bringing out a new detail.

"Birds of a feather, right?" Dick had said, grinning wildly. "That's what we are, Little Wing, and the marks know it."

He had ruffled Jason's hair, and Jason had grinned back at him, and for that moment, Dick had been able to forget everything else. No argument or hurt had mattered even in the slightest.

It had just been Dick and Jason, in their own world, one that was only for them.

---

Dick was exhausted.

In a good way, for once. If there was a good way to be exhausted. Maybe saying that he was exhausted in a better way was more correct. No one was hurt too badly, and the day had been more or less a success. All things considered, at the very least.

He missed home. It was maybe a stupid thing to say, Dick knew that so many people back home would've given everything to go to space, but Dick was tired. He was tired of being the leader, tired of seeing his friends get hurt, tired of failing in some way every single day.

He missed home. Even if things with Bruce were not perfect, everything was still much simpler back at the Manor, at least compared to this. Alfred would be there, with his gentle yet firm words and reassurances, and Bruce, even when Dick wanted to mostly scream at him, was still a familiar presence in a familiar space.

Jason would be there, too, talking Dick's ear off, making the house lived in, making it feel like an actual home.

Dick just wanted this whole thing to be over already, if he was being completely honest. Today had been a good day, all things considered, and all Dick wanted to do was to faceplant on his bed and sleep without too many worried for once. Sleep and hope that it would bring him closer to getting back home.

Of course, he couldn't do that, not just yet. Even if no one was hurt too badly, he needed to make sure that everything was in order, make sure that they had all they needed, make sure-

One moment he was thinking about all the things he needed to still do, and the next he was on the ground on his hands and knees, being torn to pieces and burned alive.

There were voices around him. Someone was touching him, hands warm on his skin, tilting his face up, but Dick couldn't see who it was. His heart was beating erratically, like it was trying to tear itself to shreds and out of its place. It burned, searing hot, white pain, that had turned him into a human torch.

Distantly, Dick knew that he already knew this pain.

He got a breath in to his burning lungs. Then another one. He was still on fire, but he could see again.

Kory was right in front of him, holding his head. Dick was mostly on the ground, now, laying on his side, only barely holding himself on his elbows.

He had no idea when he had gotten there.

Kory seemed to notice that he had come back to himself. Her face relaxed ever so slightly as his eyes met hers.

"Dick?" She asked. Her voice was low, and she was clearly trying to keep it soft, but it was still pinched with worry, just like her eyes. "Are you alright?"

Dick didn't know what to say to her.

He knew he wasn't injured, not badly at least. He knew that, but he didn't feel alright, not in the slightest.

The pain was still there, curling around the edges of him, his skin feeling like embers that were still smoldering, even though the fire had gone away. He couldn't feel his arm properly, and Dick wondered if something had-

Suddenly he felt cold.

He pushed himself up, ignoring how shaky he felt. He almost fell down again, and Kory tried to put her hands on him, maybe to push him back down or to help him up. Dick didn't know, and he didn't have the time to stop and figure it out.

His suit was on the way. Dick tugged at it, then dug his teeth on the sleeve and ripped the seam open with force he hadn't known he possessed in his jaws, and he dug his fingers in it again and continued ripping the sleeve off of his skin.

There were voices around him again, someone's hands on his shoulders, but Dick didn't pay any attention to any of it. He needed to get it off, he needed to get it off, so he could see, he needed to get it off so he could see-

Jason's mark was gone.

It had been between Bruce's and Alfred's, golden and warm and brilliant, wings in flight, and it was gone.

Dick tilted his arm, tried to catch it in light, like he had done before, to make it shine like it always had, and-

It was there.

It was still there.

Faded.

White.

Dead.

Just like his parents.

The fire burned again where his heart should've been, freezing cold, hollowing him out from the inside.

The world disappeared from around him as Dick screamed.

#hey so I haven't written anything in a long time so why not come back with a banger eh #I've been reading a lot of soulmark au's for some reason and a lot of them focus on when jason's mark would come back suddenly #and I had a thought of hm. dick was in space when jason died. how terrible would it be if dick just suddenly lost the mark when up there #without knowing what had happened other than that jason was gone #while he was far away from home #how terrible that would be indeed :)#dc #my writing #my fics #DC writing #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Nightwing #Jaybin #batman #batfam #dc fics

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dungeons-and-dragon-age · 1 day

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ok sorry i'm just. ????

rant and spoilers ahead because i gotta yell into the void a little

first of and most of all. WHY does it sound like Solas front and center of everthing now??? Including both Inky's and Rook's stories/motivations???? Like okay i understand that Solas will inevitably be important in Rook's story and that's chill! We knew he was gonna play a part in this story! But why do they make it sound like half or Rook's purpose is just there to further Solas's story/character

and it quickly becomes clear that Rook will have their own unique relationship with Solas, as the Inquisitor did before them. I think what's been fun for us, too, is trying to build Rook as kind of almost a mirror of Solas.

Epler also acknowledges that the Inquisitor “obviously has a very personal relationship with Solas,” one that will need to be reckoned with in The Veilguard.

“And I'd say the Inquisitor, to some degree, feels guilty or responsible for what Solas is doing to the world. So while we're not going to get too far into details about what role they may play, they absolutely are somebody who is going to be interested and invested in the outcome of Rook's journey in The Veilguard.”

Why. are you telling us how our Inquisitor is supposed to feel about this?? When you play DAI you agree to play The Inquisitor, yes, but you don't agree to play someone who Cares About Solas. Like. Yes. I get that he is important. That much has been clear since Trespasser. And i'm ok with that! But how come you say "this is a game about Thedas and a world in conflict" and then also talk like this story is About Solas, Actually.

The other thing i absolutely do not get and do not like. At All

Those decisions are: who your Inquisitor romanced (with the options gender- and lineage-locked in the same way that they were in Inquisition), whether or not you disbanded the Inquisition, and whether you vowed to stop Solas or save him.

?????

No "who drank from the WoS"? No "who is Divine"? No "does OGB Kieran exist"? No "is Hawke alive" (Varric is there. SURELY he cares about this a lot)? No "what happened to the Mages & Templars"? No "were Wardens banned from the south"? Arent't those uh. Really Relevant Decisions???? WHY is one of the whole grand three (3) decisions that carry over if Inky wants to save Solas or not. I mean ok i guess i get it cus that was The Big Decision TM at the end of Trespasser but again. Why is that the big thing that matters. out of all the things that SHOULD matter.

There's not as many decisions you have made up to this point that have an impact on what's happening in Northern Thedas.

But it’s also part of the advantage of moving the setting up to Northern Thedas, Epler says, with the prior games in the series taking place in Southern Thedas, a significantly different region both geographically and sociopolitically.

Uh. Yeah they do. See above points and also some that i forgot probably. Northern and Southern Thedas don't operate independently from one another that's not how this works. Especially again with things like the WoS or the Divine decision. Also half our companions from the other games are from the north?? Like yes ok i know get what you mean kinda and it's true to an extent but not like this

for one, the team focused on choices that they felt they could react to meaningfully – not just a cameo or one-liner.

“There's never a sense of, ‘Oh, that decision doesn't exist.’ But maybe we don't touch on it in this particular title,”

The. Cameos and one-liners are what make it special though?? You can't say "We want those stories to be personal." and then say you're not making any of those small decisions matter. And i don't mean matter as in having A Big Impact TM but i know that a lot of us LIVE for those small tiny nods to previous decisions that make the world feel actually alive and connected. I understand that we can't have full on-screen cameos or questlines or whatever for every little tidbit but not even. idk. Background convos about what's going on in Orzammar? Gossip about Ferelden's monarch? A line from Varric about Bartrand? Dunno man. Again not to mention the Big Things like Kieran. or the Well of Sorrows consequences. Or the Divine (which. yknow. is directly relevant everywhere except maybe Tevinter??). Those were always the things that made importing a worldstate so charming! because you could see the small little impacts that you have on the world. The tiny things like the line about the pigeons in Ferelden in DA2 or a wartable mission with Wade and Herren in DAI are so so special to me

#da4 #dav #dav spoilers #dav critical #da4 spoilers #da4 critical #lay rambles #really really hoping that the article makes it sound worse than it is but. man.#not a fan of these news

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lithepetal · 2 days

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Second Chance Chapter 18

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

Summary: Aurora and Bucky navigate the pitfalls of their trauma.

Warnings: joint therapy session, mother-daughter moment

Series Masterlist

“You will bring her back?”

Tony followed the two women out of the Compound, to where the unmarked vehicle was parked. Her mother’s chauffeur opened the back passenger door, letting in Aurora. They were going to Fifth Avenue to do last-minute Christmas shopping.

Aphrodite waved dismissively. “Yes, Tony, you don’t have to worry.”

“Aurora, honey, if she tries to kidnap you, call me.”

His poor choice of words notwithstanding, Aurora smiled. “I will, Dad.”

“Mortals are… strangely possessive creatures,” her mother noted, sliding into the backseat with Aurora. “I suppose given their short lifespans, it makes sense. Your father means well, I’ll give him that.”

Little by little, Aurora pieced things together, like why her mother waited almost twenty years to return—to Aphrodite, the time probably passed in the blink of an eye. And why not Tony Stark? He was a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. If any mortal man could woo the goddess of love, it’d be him. He was this millennia’s Adonis.

“Will I live longer than…” Aurora’s brow wrinkled. Humans? She still considered herself one.

“Oh, yes.”

She didn’t press for details; the anxiety of imagining how many people would come and go in her lifetime already started to take root. “Why did you leave? Is it like Percy Jackson, or Hercules? Half-mortal children stay with the mortal parent?”

“Would you be disappointed if I said ‘yes’?” her mother asked. “It is simply the way things are. Mythology does get some things correct.”

Realizing the dismal turn of the conversation, Aurora, single-mindedly determined to enjoy the rest of their outing, altered course. “Do I really have powers?”

“Need I remind you of the impossible feats you’ve accomplished? Remember what I said: once you believe in yourself, they will emerge.”

With that, Christmas came and went, as did Aphrodite, whose lingering presence eventually faded. The seasonal bleakness returned. By the second week, Aurora could no longer ignore the impact Bucky’s absence had on her, cementing her own worst thoughts about herself.

~ * ~

The morning before New Year’s Eve, Aurora awoke to a text message from her therapist. Rescheduled for an hour earlier, Bucky’s usual time, she assumed that meant he cancelled. At breakfast, she expressed her concern to Natasha.

“You’re a demigoddess, babushka, and the daughter of a billionaire,” Natasha intoned. “You could have anyone. Why are you so hung up on Barnes?”

“I love him.” And for the daughter of Aphrodite, it was a simple enough explanation that gave even Black Widow pause.

Bundled in layers of fleece and a woolen jacket, Aurora crossed the grounds. Entering the building, she didn’t bother knocking before walking inside her therapist’s office. She stopped suddenly upon seeing Bucky. “Oh, sorry, I—”

“Aurora, you’re right on time,” Dr. Stahl greeted. “Please, have a seat.” So, this is why her appointment was rescheduled, and by the dour expression on Bucky’s face, he didn’t know it was going to be a joint session, either. Begrudgingly, she shut the door and sat down in the chair next to his. “I want to preface this by saying I am not a relationship counselor, but this comes at the behest of your loved ones who want to see the two of you happy. Now, what happened?”

“He ran.”

“I was just taking a page outta your playbook.”

Aurora narrowed her eyes. “That was different. I was trying to protect you.”

“So am I!” Bucky shot back.

“You know, it isn’t a good sign that we’re already seeing a counselor.”

Bucky couldn’t help the grin that tugged on his lips; Aurora’s sass on full display for him to witness first-hand.

“Why don’t we begin there?” Dr. Stahl suggested. “Aurora, you told me that you avoided Bucky for an entire week—”

“He’s been avoiding me for two!” Aurora exclaimed.

“Let me finish,” Dr. Stahl said calmly. “You claim you wanted to protect Bucky, but, Aurora, the Winter Soldier didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he comforted you after Rumlow’s assault. What did you want to protect Bucky from—himself, or the truth? You do know that what Rumlow did to you wasn’t your fault, right?”

Discomfort squeezed her stomach and chest, pooling tears in her eyes. She didn’t want to discuss it in front of Bucky, even though she knew Dr. Stahl was right. “We aren’t here to talk about him.”

“It’s been two years, Aurora. Won’t you say his name?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You give him power over you by not saying his name.”

“Quoting Hermione Granger, now?” Scoffing, Aurora got up and headed toward the door.

“Doll, wait…”

Aurora closed her eyes, his husky-soft timbre smoothing over the jagged pangs in her heart. Bucky gently pried her hand from the doorknob, rubbing his thumb over knuckles. Pacified by the gesture, she looked up at him.

“Rumlow can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him. You’re…” he nearly choked on the words, realization dawning on him, dispersing all fear to the contrary, “safe.” While Aurora’s deepest fear was Rumlow, Bucky’s was himself. “I will keep you safe.”

“Y-You can’t make that promise, Bucky.” Shaking her head, Aurora slipped her hand free and walked out.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Tony Stark #Winter Soldier

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regretsofaghost · 1 day

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Let Me Break Your Heart

Prev- Survival May Be the Hardest Part

AO3 link- here

Prev-

They didn’t know where he went.

They searched the area after Scarecrow was secured, but like every other time they thought they had him, he vanished.

The only thing they still had was the mask he put on Bruce.

It was a decent gas mask, adjustable for multiple people with a good seal on it. It had an odd smell, that of ozone and petrichor. Other than that, no DNA, no fingerprints, nothing to tie the mask anywhere, not even a manufacturer.

Bruce really didn’t like this, especially because a kid was involved.

The only lead they had was Amity Park.

Danny crashed in a random alley.

He hadn’t meant to, he just, ran out of energy to keep going.

That sounded bad, maybe it was bad.

Danny let his transformation happen, gasping as the nerve endings in his side sent a painful reminder of their existence.

He wasn’t dead yet.

Danny let out a little laugh, feeling his burnt side, fingers sinking into the burnt flesh as he gasped, using the pain to ground him.

It didn’t matter if it was real or not, if it was the fear gas or if the Guys in White actually showed up, Danny needed to focus.

He stood up, eyes darting around the alley he fell into, shadows licking at him, the lightning seemingly in the distance now. Danny was taking too many chances, there was no way the Guys in White weren’t on his tail now, especially after that little confrontation with Scarecrow.

But, if it meant saving people, he would continue to take those chances.

The best lead they had was Amity Park.

It wasn’t the most fruitful of searches, at first.

There were multiple articles detailing the rise in paranormal activity that plagued the town, starting only a year ago despite the town’s slogan being “most haunted town in America.” The “ghost” of the week often making it into the paper after Phantom resolved the issue.

Concerts, circuses, the local high school, nothing was safe from the ghosts, and yet, a familiar figure in a HAZMAT suit was able to stop them all.

Bruce could only hope that the small town had neglected to contact the Justice League with such threats, rather than the very real chance that they were being blocked from them.

Very little was publicly known about Phantom, even less privately. That would have been a dead end to their search, if Barbara hadn’t noticed a strange article about an endangered species, a purple back gorilla.

Daniel Fenton wasn’t a complete match to Bruce’s memory, Daniel’s cheeks softer, Phantom’s eyes were wider, if you ignored those small differences, those small things that made it seem like he was a good match if moved slightly to the left, it could be their ghost boy. They had no photos to compare Daniel to Phantom, all video corrupted beyond repair, so Barbara dug deeper, searching for Daniel’s whereabouts.

They found the accident report soon after.

Then, everything made a lot more sense.

Danny decided to take a page out of the Bats’ books and sit on top of a roof, eyes not on the city below but on the sky above. Lady Gotham had been so kind as to let him have a peek of stars every night. Maybe it was just her way of knowing he wouldn’t be brooding all the time.

Danny didn’t mind though; he missed the stars.

He was back in his HATMAT suit, back as Phantom.

His mask was back, firmly on his face.

Danny was just happy that he tended to fry digital cameras, there were already many articles about the Scarecrow developing phasmophobia after their last encounter.

Something seemed to be keeping the Guys in White out of Gotham.

Lady Gotham insisted it wasn’t her.

Danny just hoped it wouldn’t fail anytime soon.

He pressed his fingers against the ecto burn, safely hidden under his suit. Something had managed to hit him during the attack.

Nothing was guaranteed after all.

Scrodinger’s cat, dead and alive.

But living? Having a life?

Not till the box was opened.

Amity was the closest he got to looking at his face, since he left, he hadn’t even thought of it.

Until Batman needed his mask.

Maybe the Bats were due for a haunting.

Daniel Fenton was the son of Jack and Madeline Fenton, two of the world’s top ecto-biology and paranormal experts. They both had a number of papers published under their doctorates, most of which it seemed they now denounced. It was not often that you find a scientist willing to denounce all their prior research, so of course Bruce had to look deeper.

Madeline seemed to focus on the fact that they had found solid proof of sentience in the ghosts around their town, and Jack on the unethical nature of most, if not all, the weapons they had created prior. They were unanimous about the bias in their prior work, and their desire to do better.

In none of the papers did they say what experience, or experiment, had prompted such a change. It a spit in the face of all their prior experiments and research, a change that made little sense with what was given.

It just got worse from there.

Bruce put GIW aside, intent on figuring out more about these ghost hunters, after he found the mysterious child.

Jack and Madeline had begun to denounce their prior research three months ago, first updating their business website to announce their bias as well as their inability to see what was right in front of them.

Something had to have happened three months ago to prompt such a change.

Phantom was first sighted in Gotham about two and a half months ago.

Phantom had to have something to do with their change, it was no secret that they were hyperfocused on the hazmat suit ghost, often ignoring other ghosts in favour of their white whale.

The first mention of Phantom was on a social media post from a high schooler named Star, with a blurred picture of Phantom fighting, what looked like, a giant mound of ground beef.

The pictures never improved in quality, always grainy and barely clear enough to make out, more often than not with Phantom fighting some strange creature. His mask was on for every fight, nothing to prove or disprove Bruce’s memory.

Daniel had been absent from school for three months, for two weeks no one seemed to know where he was. After those two weeks the Fentons began to excuse his absences before pulling him from school with the reasoning being a severe injury. One look at the doctor’s note indicated it was from the accident a year prior, curiously more detailed than before.

Notes of bradycardia, his resting heart rate was 45-55 bpm, asthma, he couldn’t breathe sometimes, burns, and an impressive Lichenberg scar that started from his palm and went up towards his heart.

It was painting a picture Bruce hated.

Daniel’s accident a year prior was not considered severe, the only abnormality documented was the bradycardia that he developed, averaging 55 bpm. This new report indicated either his injuries got worse with time, or the first report downplayed the severity.

Somehow, if they were right, Daniel had become Phantom, and the Fentons had an involvement that Bruce couldn’t decipher.

Danny breathed slowly, in and out. He didn’t have to follow them back to their base, maybe if he revealed himself they would take him to a safe house to talk. He had to hope.

He nearly killed Robin,

The Bats weren’t the most forgiving bunch.

They wouldn’t (couldn’t?) kill him, but there were fates worse than death.

Danny scratched his palm.

It had to work.

It had to.

The Bats tended to favour certain building to brood from, ones that were high and had good vantage points, ones where you could see everything, and most can’t see you. He just had to wait and see if they approached.

Bingo.

“B, Phantom has been spotted near Crime Alley.’

Bruce paused after he landed, grappling hook in hand as he took a look around. He was about 5 minutes from Crime Alley.

“Is he moving?’

“No, it looks like he’s just, waiting. He’s on Park Row Theatre.” Oracle’s typing could be heard in the background, “You’re closest tonight, and maybe he won’t run from you like he has everyone else.”

Bruce’s thoughts were racing as he grappled towards Park Row Theatre, hoping against hope that Phantom would still be there when he arrived.

How do you help a ghost?

The Fentons denounced their research, Phantom appeared shortly after Daniel’s initial accident, Daniel and Phantom were missing for two weeks before Phantom was spotted in Gotham, and Daniel stayed missing.

The Fentons denounced their research.

Why?

Phantom stood near the roof’s edge, facing away from both Bruce and the ground, instead, appearing to look up at the sky above.

It’ll be the second time Bruce would notice this behaviour.

“Phantom?” His gravelly voice rang out over the city noise below, “You are a hard one to catch. Did you want to talk?”

The ghost turned around, a muffled voice coming from in front of Bruce, while he barely suppressed a flinch at the static filled one coming from his com link.

“Batman,” the boy said, “I think you want answers than I want to talk,” the figure in front of him was not so different from the one all those weeks ago, but at the same time, so similar. Black HAZMAT suit, gas mask, a feeling of fear slowly crawling up Bruce’s spine. It was hard to remember there was a boy in that oversized suit.

There were two paths Bruce could see, one of questions that were hard, ones that revolved around a trauma Bruce couldn’t see and one that the questions were painful, one that were likely to get the boy to run again.

“But,” Phantom stepped closer to Bruce, static getting worse, “I gave you my mask. Were you scared of what was underneath?”

Maybe there was a third path. One less traveled by, and that made all the difference.

“No,” Bruce didn’t hesitate, keeping his hands within view. He was about to continue before Phantom interrupted.

“I’ve never checked what’s underneath,” he said it almost conversationally, voice barely wavering, but the shake was there, “Schrodinger’s cat-“

“Both dead and alive until you open the box.” Bruce finished, “Do you know the answer, to that paradox, Phantom?”

Phantom stood in front of him, and suddenly, once again, Bruce wondered how he could believe this figure frightening, how he could believe him to be older than 18, he was definitely younger.

“I’m scared to,” the static got worse, “I haven’t checked myself. Both dead and alive, but it has to be one, right? Either or. Dead or alive. Not both. Not neither. Answers can be a lot,” his breathing was getting louder, quicker, “scarier.”

Bruce reached out, placing a hand on Phantom’s arm, and the boy’s gas mask tilted up to look at him.

“I haven’t lived in a long time. Survived, yes. I’m really good at that.”

Phantom was shaking, coldness seeping through Bruce’s gloved hand.

“Dead and alive. The question isn’t about living.”

Bruce brought one hand up, slow and careful, noting when Phantom noticed the destination.

“I want to though. Live, again. It’s-“

Bruce lifted the gas mask off Phantom’s face.

Phantom looked back at him.

Danny was frozen, he couldn’t move.

Or maybe he wouldn’t.

He looked up at Batman.

And made an instinctive decision.

There was a bright flash of light, one that had Bruce closing his eyes. Once the impression on his eyes faded, he opened them.

Daniel Fenton stood in front of him. He was short, his hair was a dark shaggy mess, dark bruises were painted under his bright, blue eyes. At a glance, Daniel matched his boys.

Why did the Fentons to denounce their research?

#danny phantom #full hazmat at #Danny Fenton #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover

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ravensvirginity · 1 day

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Titans #15 Review

Oh my god. Where do I even begin.

To start with my one and only positive: the art is gorgeous. Lucas Meyer is the best artist the Titans have had in ages, and his new Raven design really delivered. I'm so sad that it appears that the artist who'll be taking over for him in #16 is undoing his design changes, I think it's a massive shame. I did appreciate the detail of Raven's white cloak design having rings on her index fingers, but it feels a little pointless without the lore of Azar's rings to back it up.

Now, the negatives: literally everything else about this comic. This comic fails to deliver on an eight issue arc in any kind of satisfying way, has a bizarre and out of character tone, and severely misunderstands the lore of its main villain. They literally defeated Trigon with the power of friendship. Maybe that could work in Teen Titans Go, but in a main timeline DC comic? What?

First, the demon Raven stuff. Gar saying that demon Raven and regular Raven aren't two different people--yeah, obviously. The severe degree of separation between demon Raven and regular Raven has been one of the big issues of this arc, and this conclusion is as unsatisfying as the rest of it. Raven and her demon side being able to talk face to face isn't new, but them being two separate people with separate physical bodies who can operate completely independently of each other--while there is some precident for this, to me it's a very strange writing choice and misses the point of a demon Raven arc.

The original idea of Raven and her demon side was that her demon side is her. It's all the worst instincts she inherited from Trigon locked up and carefully controlled. When Trigon takes control of her and turns her into her demon form, everything she's repressed, both good and bad, is released. Raven still having a soft spot for the Titans in her demon form makes sense; she's still Raven, just corrupted by Trigon into something she isn't. Raven deciding to stop being evil (not that she even really was) and going back to normal from one brief conversation with her teammate does not, and is really anticlimactic.

It's just such a waste of the story's potential. If you don't want to commit to Raven being the villain of the story, don't do a demon Raven arc! It's possible to do a Trigon story without Raven being evil, I don't get why they didn't just do that. None of the drama with Raven being evil was particularly well executed, and all it seemed to do was drag the comic on longer and longer with nothing actually happening, because they were unwilling to make Raven actually do anything villanous.

All that pales in comparison to how they defeated Trigon. I don't think I've ever seen such blatant disregard for previous canon. As Raven, powered up by the other Titans, fights Trigon, Gar narrates as follows:

"I doubt Trigon has ever been in a fight. An actual fight. With someone his own size and power level. Never had to face someone like Nightwing one-on-one. Never tried to stand while being pinned by the power of Donna Troy's will. Never been blasted... with a giant-sized Apokoliptian blast from Cyborg. And never, ever... felt the full force of a Tamaranean hit powered by the stars."

WHAT?

This comic canonically takes place in the same timeline as the New Teen Titans. There are many homages to the New Teen Titans. It has been made very clear that the team started as the New Teen Titans, and then after many, many years of crazy comic book history the team reformed as the Titans of this run.

The first ever Trigon arc that introduces him and Raven as characters takes place in the first six issues of the New Teen Titans, and culminates in Trigon being defeated by the Titans and thrown into an interdimensional prison. I can't stress this enough: literally every single one of the things Gar said have never happened to Trigon happen in that fight. Donna uses her lasso to dampen Trigon's will, in combination with Raven and Arella's empathic abilities. Wally rips a hole through the fabric of reality to throw Trigon into, and Kory and Vic connect their powers to amplify their blasts to throw Trigon into the interdimensional rift. The whole thing is coordinated and managed by Dick Grayson (who was still Robin at the time).

Gar was there when all this happened. There is no reason for him to not know that this happened. The only explanation is Tom Taylor doesn't know, or he doesn't care. This would be disappointing for any comic book run, but it leaves an especially sour taste in my mouth for this to happen in a run that's so built on NTT homages. It's clear that the writing could not care less about the comic it was inspired by.

And then Garth causes Trigon to have a heart attack. Okay, that was just stupid. Admittedly, I did think the page of Raven stabbing Trigon was cool (again, the art is really the only saving grace here), but her saying "Fuck you, Dad"? Seriously? An ongoing problem in this run has been the dialog feeling janky and too much like lines from a generic superhero movie, and this line embodies that very well. I'm not opposed to swearing in comic books, but to me, this is not the right time for it. It doesn't fit the moment, and I think it's quite out of character for Raven, even if the sentiment behind it isn't.

And then Trigon isn't even dead? What does "Demons don't die. They just fade away." even mean?? Is he dead or not? Will he come back tomorrow or in a thousand years? It's such a strange, confusing letdown of an ending.

I didn't have high hopes for this issue, but it was somehow worse than I could ever have imagined. I'm so glad that this run is getting a new writer. Here's hoping that the coming issues will actually feel like a team book, and that the decades of lore and characterization of these beloved characters will actually be considered during writing.

#raven #trigon #teen titans #titans 2023 #dc comics #wednesday spoilers #raven dc

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nanamincreampie · 21 hours

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Quiet choso

Choso Kamo x Black plus size reader

Warning: 18+ mdni, Choso expriencing puppy love

( part 2 )

Quiet Choso who’s always been on the sidelines, keeping to himself but never missing a single detail when it comes to you.

He’s seen you in class so many times, always effortlessly put together. Your soft 4c hair, styled in a neat bun today, draws his eyes whenever you walk in, and your rich, deep skin glows, accentuating every curve of your plus-sized frame. It’s not that he’s staring, at least not in an obvious way, but his gaze always seems to find its way back to you, the way your dress hugs your hips, the soft outline of your waist, and the fullness of your thighs that press against the seat when you sit. He notices everything about you without trying.

He never says much, but he’s always listening, especially when you speak in study groups. The soft, calm tone of your voice commands his attention in ways that the professors never could. Even when you greet him in passing with a gentle "Hey," he only responds with a quiet nod or a brief “Hi,” his voice barely above a whisper. He’s not used to talking, especially not to someone who stirs him up like this.

Today, though, it feels different. You’re sitting in the library, the same place he often studies, and your presence is impossible to ignore. The fitted dress you’re wearing perfectly hugs your curves, and from his spot across the room, he admires how effortlessly beautiful you are. Every time you shift in your seat or tuck a curl behind your ear, his eyes linger just a second too long.

As he flips through his notes, his mind isn’t on the pages in front of him it’s on you. He tries to focus, but when he glances up, you’re smiling at him, soft and shy. His heart skips a beat.

You catch him watching, and with a soft laugh, you tease, "Choso, are you even studying, or are you just people-watching?"

His throat tightens, and he clears it, turning his eyes back to his notes. “I’m studying,” he mutters, though even he knows it’s a lie.

You stand up and start to make your way toward the stacks of books nearby, and his gaze follows you, admiring how gracefully you move. There’s an ease in the way you walk, your dress moving fluidly over your curves, every bit of your figure making his mind race. And when you bend slightly to grab a book from a lower shelf, he can’t help the way his breath hitches, eyes drawn to the way the fabric clings to your hips and thighs.

It’s then that another guy walks up to you, trying to make conversation. Choso clenches his fist under the table, feeling a sudden rush of jealousy as the guy leans in too close, his eyes wandering over your figure. He watches the interaction from a distance, his jaw tight.

"Come on, don’t you want to grab a coffee or something?" the guy presses, a little too eager.

You smile politely but shake your head, clearly uninterested. "No, I’m good. I’ve got a lot of studying to do."

Choso feels the tension in his chest ease a bit as you turn the guy down, and when you return to your seat, your eyes meet his again. There’s a playful glint in your gaze, as if you know he’s been watching.

"You alright, Choso?" you ask, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nods stiffly, trying to keep his cool. "Yeah, I’m fine," he says, though his tone betrays him.

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing slightly as if you’re figuring him out. "You sure? You seem… distracted."

Choso doesn’t answer immediately, unsure how to respond without giving too much away. Instead, he lowers his eyes to his book, biting the inside of his cheek.

You laugh softly and shake your head. "Well, don’t let me distract you too much. We’ve got exams coming up." You give him a teasing smile before returning to your notes.

And Quiet Choso, who sits there, unable to shake the feeling growing inside him, is left wondering just how much longer he can stay quiet about how he feels. Because every time you walk by with your curves, your soft voice, and that smile, it gets harder and harder to keep his thoughts to himself.

#jujutsu kaisen #x black plus size reader #x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #x black fem reader #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x black!reader #choso x black y/n #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x black reader

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felondese · 21 hours

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here are my guesses for how they're doing this:

morrigan has been taken over by mythal to the point where her personal development and history pre-mythal don't matter all that much, so no references to her potential child or partner. we're going to see mythal in morrigan shape which I'm okay with for elgar'nan-whooping-purposes

we're just going to pretend that well of sorrows thing didn't happen shhh. i think they'd rather just sweep that one under the rug considering there wasn't even real solas reaction dialogue with him in your party (he mildly disagrees with you drinking but he also doesn't want morrigan to), just his seemingly random ass outrage back at skyhold after the fact. they really fumbled this one already, i think, so probably for the best to just ignore it, even if that's a shame because it's so chewy. plus the well is essentially morrigan's now anyway whether she drank or not

the inquisition is a handful of people at this point regardless of disbandment or not, and we won't really hear from anyone we know that's still working with them. they can't really reference any of the advisors or companions other than varric and harding. as little as our previous choices matter, i have a hard time imagining a significant difference in game states based on, for example, having forces and resources to contribute

the inquisitor is going to make an appearance but get kidnapped/hurt/go MIA for most of the game early on so their presence in the story is the only thing that's significant, not any personal details, anything that might showcase personality or reference their choices in inquisition. probably gonna die to tie up loose ends

solas will be a lil extra sad if lavellan romanced him but I'm not expecting much in terms of solavellan nods. i am betting the difference will be minimal, like friendly vs romanced in trespasser. best case scenario a kiss and he'll throw in a vhenan at the end maybe when he breaks her heart again. definitely not banking on murals or anything significant.

that said, i am thinking the only one of the three choices that will actually have much of an impact is if you romanced solas. i highly doubt any of the other dai romances will get mentioned since past char choices related to them aren't and there are too many variables

whether your inky wanted to redeem or stop solas won't really matter. we need his help either way and with the gods released the veil is probably coming down whether he does it or not

the rest of the world is on fucking fire early enough in the game that it doesn't matter who's on what thrones. it's all irrelevant when the evanuris bust out. no chantry, no kingdoms left standing, just chaos and death

the chars i was really looking forward to seeing again and kind of expected based on location/factions (dorian, isabela, zevran, sten, fenris) might get a passing reference in text but i hear it's a real pain in the ass to get the voice actors and art departments involved for cameos, plus all the possible contingencies, so I'm dropping those hopes. should count my blessings that they aren't horrifically killed on screen because that would be the only other option i guess

basically i'm going to bring my expectations back down to earth and then a little lower for safety. can't be disappointed if i don't expect much going in.

still looking forward to the game? absolutely.

#dragon age spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age

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fossette-promenade · 1 day

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I don't often talk about Taobao brands on here, despite it being very popular. Chinese lolita brands are a great option if you're on a budget, want to buy something brand new, and usually have a wider size range than Japanese lolita.

Chinese lolita fashion is a little different from Japanese style. I notice that Chinese style is a bot more extravagant, with lots of details, frilly collars, extra laces, bows, and embroidery sewn into the dress. While Japanese style often has a structured JSK, with lace just on the hem and a bow at the waist. One style isn't better than the other, and there's always a variety! It's just something I don't often see talked about.

see how the chinese style has the corset ribbons, larger necklace+bow, extra lace on the blouse, very full skirt? Both so beautiful! Chinese lolita is like a princess meeting her prince for the first time, Japanese style is like a princess strolling around town~

It can be hard to navigate through quality lolita pieces vs. mass produced, fast fashion lolita when shopping on Taobao. It is important to check the shop for details like: is the general brand aesthetic cohesive? Do they have a brand name at all? Is it a "too good to be true" price? (<$25) Try reverse image searching the product and seeing if it's sold on Aliexpress or Amazon.

Here are some Taobao brands I recommend if you like classic/sweet lolita:

Akane & Alois

Forest Wardrobe

Sheep Puff (shoes)

NyaNya

Mademoiselle Pearl

Raschel Gallery

Miss Point

huayegeye (jewelry)

There are many others as well!

I highly recommend buying shoes and purses from taobao especially. There are very many cute designs, will last longer, are more affordable, and have more size options.

You can use a shopping service like Superbuy (I have used and like it!) or many people in my comm recommend 42lolita or ChineseLolitaUpdates on Facebook. (Haven't used personally)

What do you think? Do you like Chinese lolita style? Have you shopped on Taobao before? Recommend any other brands? Let me know!

#egl community #egl fashion #lolita fashion #jfashion #journal #sweet lolita #classic lolita #lolita blog #taobao

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commander-rahrah · 2 days

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Talking to the Moon: Part IX

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2570 Warnings: some borrowed in game dialogue, no use of y/n, canonical warnings apply!

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here part III: here part IV: here part V: here part VI: here VII: here VIII: here

Summary: Set in the end stages of Act III. The party faces it's biggest threat, yet Astarion can't help but worry about his future with you.

Notes: Hi folks ♡ What a hiatus! But I'm now officially married and loving life with my partner and doggos! This chapter is a bit shorter, but I didn't want to get too nitty gritty with details of the last fights leading up to the netherbrain (cause there is too many scenarios/decisions about who you bring and side with etc. etc.) and also because that's not really what this fic is about so... lol. I just wanted to add in little Astarion POVs and twists here and there for wrapping up the main game/known content so then I can get into the custom/headcannony stuff for the end! I would say there is probably 2 chapters of this left where I can wrap up this little story and give these two little heroes a happily ever after!

Thank you so much for reading! As always, kudos and comments are very very appreciated ♡♡♡

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Astarion’s red eyes couldn’t help but always go to you — visions dancing in them as he envisioned his future life with you.

Like when the group was in Lady Jannith’s house a week ago — ghosts and possessed furniture aside — all he could do was imagine the grand home was both of yours. Lounging on the settee with his head on your lap. Reading a book on one of the high backed chairs in the study. Ravishing you on the large, luxurious four poster bed. In the tub. On the balcony.

He thought his desire for you would be a slow build, a steady incline like the last few months had been. As you had slowly re-wired his mind and soul with your patient, gentle touches. As you showed him what it was supposed to feel like. At first it had been casual touches, then slightly more intimate gentle caresses. Then you kissed him again — gods, he still thought about that kiss on those crumpling ramparts. Then it was more than just his lips you put your mouth on, spreading kisses over parts of him that he had never thought of in that way. And it was like his body was set on fire in a whole different way.

But when you both reached that precipice and jumped off that cliff — when he finally got to have you, again, he was ruined.

You had ruined him. He felt like he could never have enough. Gods, he loved you. And you loved him. You repeated it, continuously to him — the words uttered so often to him that they were beginning to sound like a prayer. You loved him. You said you would love him for the rest of your life.

Your whole life… Just a fraction of his.

You would love him for the rest of your life.

And then he would miss you for all of his.

Save of him suddenly finding a cure for vampirism or you being turned immortal he would lose you one day. A thought that rattled the vampire to the core. Astarion had tried to broach the topic, but you kept brushing it off. To be fair, the entire group was constantly dealing with the looming threat of total annihilation thanks to the Netherbrain — but he couldn’t help but worry. You had finally given him something to hope for, a future to look forward to. Pardon him for being concerned it would be cut prematurely short.

Such worries were flooding through him now, his pale fingers trembling as he looked around the ominous cave. It was dank and dark. It smelled absolutely disgusting, and his boots were wet from having to swim to shore. Yet his red eyes could not stray from you for long, not even as you checked on your friends, grabbing their shoulders and giving them determined nods. He had to force the lump in his throat down into nothing just to keep it together.

He needed to be strong. You needed him to be strong. The vampire needed to put his fears of what the expiration date of "forever" would be for him and his mortal love — if only for long enough to stop the chaos of the Absolute once and for all. No instead he would focus on what he will do once you all won. The celebrations and adventures still to be had. The touches to share, expensive wine to drink and stories to whisper.

His thoughts steadied as you approached, though the smallest line in between your brows caused him worry. "You always pick the most romantic spots." He teased, grabbing onto your waist as you sidled up next to him.

You raised a brow, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips, "Says the man who brought me to a cemetery."

He barked out a laugh, "Touché."

Your laugh didn't quite reach your eyes, which were instead darting around the cavern nervously.

"Darling," Astarion grabbed onto your chin tenderly, forcing you to look at him. His red eyes flickered back and forth over your features before he finally spoke, "There is no limit to what I would do for you. For us." Your bottom lip trembled at his declaration, silver lining the bottom of your eyes for a moment. "I waited centuries for you. Nothing will stop me from being yours. Not time, or vampire master, or a monstrosity of a brain." His pale thumb brushed the tears away from your eyes, and his lashes blinked his own away, "I love you, my moon."

"I love you, Astarion." You whispered shakily.

He placed his cold lips on yours, more softly than he had ever done before. So soft and tender that he didn’t even realize he was capable of it. Both of his hands cupped the sides of your face, using the momentum to pull your chest flush against his as he deepened his kiss. Before you could react, he pulled away though, letting out a husky breath. "We better survive this. Because I never want to stop doing that."

You blinked yourself out of the stupor he had put you in, looking up at him with shining eyes. "We will."

"Get a room lovebirds!" Karlach's teasing voice echoed from behind. "We gotta brain to kill."

The rest of the group had soft smiles on their face as they looked over you both, before stepping forward with determined nods.

You straightened your shoulders, standing at full height as you looked over your shoulder to the ominous path ahead, though your fingers still stayed twined in Astarion's. "Shall we then?"

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Gods, were you strong.

Stronger than him undoubtedly — even with his spawn nature and physique.

The concentration in your brow and lip as you held the golden sphere around the group, your hands never faltering as mind flayers and spells and a dragon were hurled at you. Yet your powerful magic kept them all safe, shielded and protected by your will.

The unwavering focus in your eyes as you faced the monstrosity of the Netherbrain. Astarion’s knees had trembled and his dagger would have fallen through the sky if it wasn’t for the enchantment tying it to his palm. But you didn’t falter — though he wasn’t sure if you took a breath the entire time.

Your quick nerve as you and Gale formulated a plan together— the group falling head over heels through the air as you all hurled from the falling Netherbrain and nearing the water below. Your hands steady as they mimicked the wizard’s, casting the spell that defied gravity at the perfect moment.

The conviction in your voice as you said goodbye to some friends — but convinced others to save themselves. Sending Karlach and Wyll off together, bidding Lae’zel farewell for now. Convincing Gale that he himself, as he was, is good and pure and right.

The strength of your mind as you yet again concentrated on a spell — covering you both in magical darkness as Astarion had to flee the sun. The strength of your arms wrapped around his torso as he cried into your chest — already grieving the feeling of the warm light and the new life he had found in it. The strength of your love for him — whispering to him that he would be alright, that it was okay — huddled together in the forgotten alley until with your spell and your soothing voice you were able to coax him from his hiding spot.

Your strength to be vulnerable — to let the mask fall once you, Astarion and Gale were alone. Looking at the empty chairs at the tavern table that once held your friends — now all spread across to different planes of existence in a matter of moments. Your tired, sad smile as you and Gale gave each other comforting hugs, whispering your pride to the other after all of the anguish and turmoil had settled.

How easily your fingers laced through Astarion’s cool, pale fingers as he dragged you away upstairs to finally be alone. Behind the wooden door, both your masks fully dropped as you embraced each other tightly, faces pressed into each other's necks. “It’s… over. Truly over.” You muttered into his skin, your warm lips eliciting goosebumps on the sensitive skin.

"Ha," A half-hearted chuckle escaped him, shaking you both slightly. In this moment, it truly sunk in. You were here, you were both here. No tadpoles or mindflayers. No vampire masters or ascendancy to haunt you. You were both yourselves, safe and whole. "It is."

You pulled away to look at him, your eyebrows knitted together, "I thought I would feel more-"

"Relieved?" He finished for you.

"Yes. I am but... I almost feel more unsettled now than ever before. I can't stop thinking about our friends, our city, the children..."

He grabbed your shoulders tenderly, giving them a squeeze, "No one expects you to have an answer for those things. You've done so much already."

You flushed, looking down between the two of you. "We have. All of us."

But he lifted your chin with a curled finger, raising your gaze to look back up at him, "Don't sell yourself short. No one would have made it this far without you, my moon. I know I wouldn't have."

You only sniffled as you blinked away the silver tears that were trying to fall from your eyes.

"Now, I think the bare minimum the hero of Baldur's Gate deserves is a good night's sleep. Don't you think?"

"Ugh, I feel like I could sleep for a century actually."

"While I don't think I want to part with you for that long, I surely understand the sentiment." He winked, before leading you over to the soft bed in the center of the room. "Sit."

You silently obeyed him, watching him as he kneeled to gracefully untie the laces of your boots before sliding them off. As he worked on helping you change, he could practically see the gears whirling in your head. So he shook his head softly as you finally opened your mouth to speak, "Rest, my love. We can talk about the rest later."

You nodded in agreement, before reaching across to the other side of the soft mattress and patting it, "Will you lay with me?"

"As long as you will have me."

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You had hoped for a dreamless night — you had even done a half hearted prayer to Selûne as your head hit the pillow that your mind would find peace after the insanity of the day.

And by her grace or pure luck — or perhaps it truly was from the exhaustion of these past few weeks — you slept. Your mind was clear, and quiet for the first time in months. No dreams, nightmares or visions had come to plague you either.

As you slowly woke up, you lavished in the sensation of the mattress enveloping you, the soft blankets covering your body. The sensation of Astarion's weight and presence next to you made your heart flutter and stomach warm. When you finally cracked an eyelid open, you found that the vampire's red eyes were already trained on you. He was laying on his side, his head perched on his hand braced on the pillow. His lips quirked up as he realized he had been caught staring.

“Hello, darling.” He whispered affectionately, reaching out to move a stray hair from your face.

You smiled at the tender touch, before looking around the room quickly. You couldn't tell what time it was — courtesy of both of you 'sunproofing' the room before heading to bed. You suddenly realized the hours you would keep would become very different — not that it bothered you. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Hmm, barely. I thought after everything I would and yet… too much on my mind I suppose.”

"I seem to remember someone giving very specific instructions to get a good night's sleep. Did that not apply to you, starry?" You said with a smirk, stretching your limbs above your head lazily.

His eyes followed your movements, his lips parting slightly before he spoke again. “I was just thinking of freedom.” He shuffled slightly closer on the bed, “How we're free of the parasite. I'm free of Cazador. How I’ll never be in someone’s power again. And all it cost… was my life in the sun. Now I belong to the shadows. And I can't help but think... now what?"

Your lips pulled into a sad smile, shifting closer to him as well, “If it’s what you desire, I will help you find a way to walk in the sun again.”

His red eyes went round, “I— do you think it’s possible?”

“I think the last few months have proven that anything is possible.”

A chuckle bubbled out of him, “I guess you’re right. And even if there’s a small chance… plus, it would mean we setting off on another adventure together." He said fondly, before looking back over at you. "Is that what you want? Is this what you want? I would understand if you wanted to go your own way…”

You pressed your fingers to his pink lips, halting his thoughts spiralling down. “This is my own way. With you. Have I not made that clear before Astarion Ancunin?"

He kissed the pads of your fingertips, before drawing them down to hold to his bare chest. “Good. Because as selfless as I am, I really didn’t want to let you go." He said cheekily, nuzzling closer into you. "We are rather excellent together you know."

"And united there is nothing we can’t do." You said confidently.

He arched a white brow, "Even making a vampire walk in the sun?"

"Even that. Though it may not be an exciting adventure at first, it may take some hours in a library completing research first."

"Ugh, I was hoping you wouldn't say that." He said dramatically, rolling out of your arms to sprawl across the soft mattress.

You chuckled at him until the sound of a heavy thud outside your door made you both whip your heads forward. With a furrowed brow, you slipped out of the bed and cautiously approached the door.

It opened with a creak, though no one greeted you on the other side. Looking down, you found several tomes and volumes of books in a neat pile on the floor. Bending low you scooped them up and carried the large stack into the room.

"What in the heavens are those?" Astarion questioned, flopping onto his stomach on the bed as he watched you cross the room.

You placed them down on the little wooden table next to the bed, before running a finger down the spines with a smile. A Book of Light & Darkness, Curse with Vigor: Casting & Undoing, The Magic of Freedom...

A folded piece of parchment was placed in between the first two books. Grabbing it, you opened it and instantly recognized the curling cursive inside. 'I hoped you slept better then me. But I had an idea in the middle of the night and made a visit to a friendly wizard's tower. We best get to work.'

You laughed as you handed the note over to the curious Astarion, "It seems Gale had the same idea as us."

"Well, I guess that means we aren't getting rid of the wizard anytime soon." He said with a fanged grin. "Good, I was just starting to get used to him."

#bg3 fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfic #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav

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thetravelerwrites · 3 days

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What is Expected, What is Understood (The Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts) Part 1

Rating: Explicit Fandoms: Niehime to Kemono no Ou | Sacrificial Princess & the King of Beasts Relationships: Sariphi & Leonhart, Amit & Jormungand Additional Tags: Loss of Virginity, Blood Mention, Discussion of Conception, Discussion of Pregnancy, Discussions of Oral Sex, Detailed Descriptions of Sex, Discussion of Menstruation, Breeding, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Extension of Canon Words: 4929

It's been four years since their wedding and, for one reason or another, Sariphi and Leonhart still have not consummated their union. Under the constant pressure to produce an heir, and after a disastrous first attempt, they realize they are unprepared and decide to hire a midwife.

This one has been up on my Ao3 for a while, but I decided to bring it to tumblr. Please reblog and leave feedback!

Four years had passed so quickly since the wedding that it felt to Sariphi like it had been no time at all. Even still, she often struggled to believe it was real and not some fanciful fever dream she had conjured up as a coping mechanism as she waited in passive acceptance for the day of sacrifice to arrive.

Now nineteen, Sariphi was a little less impulsive than she had been when she first came to the kingdom, making a conscious effort to conduct herself with more dignity and grace now that she was queen, but she was no less enthusiastic and eager. Her influence was felt in every corner of the palace, like a breath of fresh air. Staff who had been working in the palace since the time of the previous king could feel a dramatic difference in the atmosphere: the palace had been tense and darkly oppressive during the reign of the former king, while it was silently somber and cold after His Majesty had ascended the throne. Sariphi’s presence had made the palace warmer, lighter, and more brilliantly bright in comparison.

After many, many intensive lessons, Sariphi had finally taken on some of the administrative work from Anubis within the last few months, with Amit as her assistant. The work was hard but rewarding, and Sariphi was simply happy to be helpful. Even so, it was still two months before Anubis would let her do any of the work on her own without hovering over her shoulder, watching for mistakes.

“Should this document be filed under regional, capitol, or national?” Sariphi asked Amit one afternoon while working. “It’s an assistance request for the outer ring of the capital city, but that falls on the border with the nearby province of Reiza.”

“Hmm,” Amit said, looking over it. “Who sent the request?”

“Both the governor of Reiza and the alderman of that district of the city. It’s a joint request.”

“Ah. Perhaps make copies of it and file it under all three. That way, there would be a record of the request for every category. For reference.”

“I see.”

Before being sent as a bridal candidate and eventually becoming Sariphi’s official companion and lady-in-waiting, Amit had been thoroughly educated in administration, so her help was invaluable to Sariphi, who’d had none of that training before ascending the throne. Although it would have been expected of her to take on the administration work immediately after becoming queen if she had been a beast princess, she had been far too busy learning history, etiquette, language, and politics in the first year to even begin administration.

“We’ve been at this for hours,” Amit said, sighing. “Why don’t we take a break? I have tea and snacks I made myself. Everything was checked before I used it.”

“Who checked it?” Sariphi asked suspiciously.

“It wasn’t me!” Amit insisted. “The ingredients were tested by the imperial alchemist, I swear!”

“Hmm,” Sariphi said, taking a biscuit. “If you say so.”

Sariphi had nearly fallen victim to a couple of assassination attempts in recent years perpetrated by anti-human militants that had infiltrated the palace staff, those who still resented the king for his lineage and her for her mere existence. As a result, every bit of food and drink that was placed before her for the last year had to be tested and monitored closely from kitchen to table. Amit had tried to appoint herself Sariphi’s poison tester, but Sariphi had quashed that idea immediately. As had Jormungand.

Sariphi yawned as she accepted a cup of tea.

“Are you tired today?” Amit asked.

“Yeah,” Sariphi admitted. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Well… I heard the maids talking. They seem to feel like an heir should have been conceived by now.”

“Are you bothered by that?”

“A little.”

“You shouldn’t take it to heart, Sari,” Amit said, patting her shoulder. “They’re just worried about you.”

“It’s not just them. The royal council has been putting pressure on His Majesty about it since the wedding. Anubis has been dropping suggestions in that roundabout way he does, too. His Majesty is sick of hearing about it.”

Amit laughed. “You don’t need to worry too much about it,” She said. “You and His Majesty love each other so much that I’m sure you’ll hear good news very soon.”

Sariphi blushed and looked away. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Why not?”

“Well… we’d have to… He’d need to… we haven’t…” Sariphi stuttered to a stop and hid behind her hair, embarrassed.

Amit gasped. “You haven’t…” She squeaked and blushed as well. “Consummated your nuptials yet? Anyone against your union could use that as ammunition to force you to annul the marriage if they found out! They could use that to make His Majesty take a concubine! It’s been four years!”

“I know!” Sariphi exclaimed, and then lowered her voice. She was glad Cy and Clops weren’t there in her office at the time and that Bennu was fast asleep in his gilded cage. “But he’s never touched me and I’ve been too nervous to make a move on him. I know he’s worried about hurting me, but… I’ve also wondered… if he wasn’t interested in me like that.”

“But he loves you!” Amit said.

“I know he loves me, I’ve never doubted that he loves me, but romantic love and sexual love don’t always go hand-in-hand.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“I’ve only brought it up once recently. He told me that I’m still young and we have lots of time and not to worry about it. I’m nervous that if I bring it up too much, he’ll shut me out. He has a bad habit of keeping his worries to himself.”

“He’s not alone in that,” Amit said shrewdly, and then covered her mouth with her hands at her own boldness.

Sariphi sighed. “I know. It’s not just about having heirs. I… I want to be more intimate with him. I want to be his wife in every possible way.”

“Have you told him that?”

“No. I guess my mistake was assuming he would already know that. I forgot that he can be hesitant when it comes to personal relationships, even when he really cares for someone. After hiding his true self for so long and only existing for the sake of the kingdom, he’s still learning to voice his desires. He doesn’t know how to be selfish or ask for things he wants for himself.”

“You should talk to him again and tell him how you feel. I really envy that you and His Majesty can talk to each other so openly. I hope Captain Jormungand and I can have that kind of relationship once we marry.”

Jormungand and Amit had been engaged for nearly half a year and their wedding was planned for spring. Sariphi was so excited to be the Matron of Honor for her, since none of Amit’s family would be attending to stand with her. Though Jormungand may have the Captain of the Imperial Guard and a talented man with many accomplishments and accolades, the royals of Murga were still affronted by the fact that Amit would be marrying a commoner. According to Amit, being shunned by her family was nothing new, since she had no value to them as the fifth princess, and although she tried to behave unperturbed, Sariphi knew she was sad about it.

Amit was acutely aware that it was a serious breach of etiquette to even ask the queen to participate in the wedding of a commoner, and though she knew Sariphi would be overjoyed to accept, she couldn’t bring herself to ask. It was Jormungand, not Amit, who asked Sariphi to be Amit’s Matron of Honor in her stead. Jormungand, who had no family, was quite unhappy that Amit’s family had snubbed her due to her marriage to him, though he knew their relationship had always been strained. He decided there was no higher honor, nor greater satisfaction, than having the queen of the realm standing in their place, especially considering the king himself would be standing for Jormungand. Sariphi agreed wholeheartedly and accepted with delight.

“You’re right,” Sariphi said. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”

Sariphi was nervous all through the dinner banquet and avoided His Majesty’s eye out of embarrassment. She could feel him staring at her, though he said nothing to her and the evening passed without fuss.

That night, after they retired for the evening, had their baths, and returned to their chambers, he caught her by the waist and easily lifted her onto his shoulder, which he was still prone to doing when they were alone. After climbing into the bed, he sat her atop his lap and caged her in his embrace.

“Out with it,” He said without preamble. “Why have you been avoiding my gaze all evening?”

“Why do you have to be so inconveniently perceptive?” Sariphi sighed exasperatedly.

“Anyone with eyes could have observed your odd behavior,” He retorted. “My queen is many things, but subtle she is not.”

“Something Anubis will probably scold me for later, I’m sure,” Sariphi agreed. “As he always says, ‘Tact and decorum is the benchmark of every great queen’.”

“Do not change the subject,” Leonhart said, squishing her face in his claws. “What troubles you?”

Sariphi sighed. “I was thinking about the heirs thing again.”

Leonhart sighed in turn. “We have discussed this. There is an abundance of time to worry about that. It is not something that requires your concern at present.”

“When should I be concerned?”

“Never. It is not worth your energy.”

“Amit said that if anyone finds out that we haven’t consummated our marriage, they could lawfully force you to take a concubine or make us get an annulment.”

“Which is why it shall not be discovered.”

“Leo… It’s not just that,” Sariphi replied. “Talking to Amit today made me realize… the reason why it bothers me isn’t just the need for an heir.”

“What is the reason, then?”

Sariphi flushed and picked at a single strand of his mane rather than looking him in the face.

“I… We… We’ve been married for four years now… and we haven’t… been intimate… and I wondered if you weren’t interested in such things.”

Leonhart was silent and Sariphi, feeling anxious, began rambling very fast.

“I know we had discussed having kids before and I know you don’t want to hurt me, but you had mentioned that you wanted to have at least two, but we need to be intimate for that to happen, but you’ve never made a move, so I thought you didn’t want to, but I–”

“Sariphi, stop,” Leonhart said, taking her chin and making her look at him. “You do not need to explain yourself, I understand what you are saying. To tell the truth… you are correct. I have been hesitant to attempt intimacy with you because I do not wish to hurt you. The difference in our size obviously means that the act would cause you immense discomfort. You did not seem to show much interest in it, either, so I assumed until now that you were satisfied to wait.”

“So… you do want to? Be intimate with me, I mean?”

“I do wish for that, yes,” Leonhart said. “Of course I do. Truthfully… I have thought of it quite often as of late, especially now that you have grown taller and gained weight. It is hard not to notice how… lovely you look, and your warm body lying next to me every night is often difficult to ignore. But as I said… I worry about hurting you.”

“Perhaps it won’t hurt,” Sariphi said optimistically. “We’ll never know until we try, right?”

“I suppose you have a point,” Leonhart agreed, though he looked skeptical. “You also truly wish to be intimate with me?”

“Yes, I do,” She said earnestly. “I’m your wife and I love you. I want to do all the things husbands and wives do.”

“I see,” He said slowly. “Do you… wish to try tonight?”

Sariphi gulped but nodded. “No time like the present. Honestly, I’ve been ready for a long time, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“I see.” Leonhart took a deep breath. “I fear I have no experience with this. I am unsure how to begin.”

Sariphi moved off of Leonhart’s lap. Kneeling next to him and plucking up her courage, she carefully drew her nightgown over her head and off of her body, then removed her undergarments, fully exposing herself to him for the very first time. His eyes widened and his breathing sped up slightly. Rolling onto his knees as well, he reached out to touch her but stopped short, seeming unsure, looking at his large claws in dismay.

“It’s okay, Leo,” Sariphi said, moving forward to press her breast to his palm. “You can touch me. You won’t hurt me. It’s okay.”

As much as she tried to reassure him, he was still intensely cognizant that his claws could wrap around her entire body with room to spare, claws that were strong enough to rend solid stone, and his need to be careful was obvious. Instead, he turned his hand and caressed one of her nipples with the back of the claw on his first finger. She inhaled sharply and made a slight sound, biting her lip. She looked anxious, but she gazed at his face with open trust.

Leonhart leaned forward and pressed his nose to the hollow of her neck, breathing in deeply. She reached up and raked her fingers through the fur of his neck. His arms encircled her, and he pulled her bare body against his own clothed chest. He felt himself stir below, and shrugged his arms out of their sleeves. He pulled her toward him and lay her down on the bed under him, stripping off the drape around his waist and letting it fall heavily to the floor. Her beautiful body lay open to him, her silver-white hair spread out around her head like a glowing halo, and she reached for him.

Carefully lowering his body over hers, he kissed her. She moaned softly and moved underneath him, stroking his chest. He pressed his hardness to her entrance, pausing for a moment to observe her face before attempting to enter her slowly. She seemed fine at first, but as he pushed harder, her brow furrowed and her breath stuttered.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

She didn’t speak, but nodded. He continued, but stopped when she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, holding her breath.

“Are you sure I should carry on?”

“Yes,” She said, her voice strained. “It’s okay.”

He had barely moved an inch when he noticed tears gathering in her eyes, and the moment he caught the scent of blood, he removed himself and climbed off of her. Sure enough, there was blood on the sheets under her. It wasn’t a lot, but it was more than enough to ruin his mood.

“Why did you stop?” Sariphi asked, wiping her eyes.

“I have hurt you, just as I feared I would,” He said, putting his clothing back on and stooping to gather up her clothes as well.

“I’ve heard it’s normal to bleed the first time,” She insisted. “Many women do.”

“It is not just that,” He said. “I could see on your face that you were in pain.”

“It wasn’t that bad, I swear!” She said, holding her nightgown to her chest. “I can do it! Even if it’s painful, I can handle it! I still have to bear your successor regardless! Everyone expects it of us!”

“As loath as I am to hurt you for my own satisfaction, I am even less inclined to do so to suit the wishes of others,” Leonhart said. “We will try again another day, when you have healed. I refuse to injure you further.”

“But–”

“No,” He said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Not tonight. It is not as though I am suggesting we never consummate, but it seems we are not ready for this yet.”

“Leo, it’s been four years.”

“I am well aware of that, Sariphi. Neither of us know much about this subject. We need… help. Advice.”

“Advice from whom?”

“I am unsure,” Leonhart admitted.

"Are there books we could read?"

"Oh, I am certain there are, but I do not even know where to begin looking, nor do I wish to ask. All I am certain of is that I do not wish to cause you further pain. There must be something we can do to make this… process… easier.” He took her nightgown out of her hands and pulled it back over her head. “I’m far more concerned with the well-being of the woman I love than I am for any amorphous children who are yet to exist. Whatever our responsibilities may be, you are my wife before you are the queen.”

“Shouldn’t it be the other way ‘round?” Sariphi asked, reluctantly pulling on her undergarments. “The queen exists for the country, so her discomfort is not important if it’s for the good of the people, right?”

“Perhaps,” He said. “But I care not. If it would cause you harm, it is not worth doing.”

“Do you not want to be intimate anymore?”

“No, I still wish for that,” He replied. “But only if it is good for us to do so. For both of us.” He pulled her back into his lap and embraced her once more. “Do not misunderstand, Sariphi. I love and desire you. That has not changed, nor will it ever. Be assured of that fact and do not fret.”

“Okay,” She said, cuddling into his chest. Though he was not one for words, he seemed to always know what she needed to hear. They lay down together and tried to sleep, but neither found much rest that night.

The next morning, His Majesty insisted that Sariphi stay in their chambers and rest for the day, calling Amit to keep her company. Sariphi had to admit, she was a little bit sore, and gratefully accepted.

“How did it go?” Amit asked once they were alone. “I heard the maids say there was blood on the sheets.”

Sariphi shook her head. “We tried, but he stopped almost immediately when I started bleeding. He says he won’t try again until we get some sort of help.”

“What sort of help?”

“I don’t know,” Sariphi admitted. “I don’t know who we could possibly ask about this.”

Amit sat quietly in deep thought. “What about a midwife?”

“Midwife?”

“Certainly,” Amit said. “A midwife could solve this problem, wouldn’t you think? Conception, pregnancy, and childbirth are the sole scope of their expertise, is it not?”

“Well, sure,” Sariphi agreed. “But is there one in the palace?”

“Oh,” Amit said contemplatively. “I’m not sure. Anubis would know. Hiring staff who work directly with the royal family is one of his many duties.”

Sariphi blushed. “I couldn’t possibly ask Anubis about this.”

“Then mention it to His Majesty and have him pass on the message to Anubis. If the palace doesn’t have a midwife, then they can find one.”

The next day, after Sariphi told His Majesty about it the night before, His Majesty sat in his office, pouring over paperwork, when he finally broached the subject with Anubis.

“Anubis.”

Anubis looked up from his own work. “Yes, Sire?”

“Does the palace have an imperial midwife at present?”

“A midwife?” Anubis echoed in surprise. “Could Her Majesty be…?”

“No,” His Majesty replied, looking into the far distance out of the closest window in an effort to appear magnanimous rather than embarrassed. “Not as of yet. It is for that reason we require such a person to seek their advice on the matter. It seems Her Majesty has been quite worried about the constant prattling on the subject of an heir, despite the fact that the queen is still quite young and we have only been married a short time.”

“Four years is plenty of time to conceive an heir, Sire,” Anubis pointed out.

His Majesty glared at him.

“I-I see,” Anubis replied hastily. “The palace has not had an imperial midwife since the passing of the previous queen. By rights, a new imperial midwife should have been appointed upon the queen’s ascension, but in the aftermath of the attempted insurrection prior to the sovereign marriage rites, and then the peace talks with Yoana directly after, it appears that the appointment was overlooked.”

“Very well. Hire one immediately.”

“Of course, sire,” Anubis said, but he paused. “Although… I am concerned that there may not be any midwife in Ozmargo willing to take the position.”

“Because the queen is human?”

“Well, yes,” Anubis said delicately.

His Majesty sighed. “I had believed this sort of discrimination would have been much reduced by now, though I suppose it is to be expected.”

“I didn’t mean necessarily in terms of discrimination. More to the point, I doubt that there are any of beastkind in the kingdom who would know how to treat a human.”

“Ah,” His Majesty said. Anubis was correct, of course. “Could we not call one from Yoana?”

“I suppose we could,” Anubis said. “But what woman in her right mind would make that journey? The way between the kingdoms is still treacherous and full of peril. Even with guaranteed security, there may not be any who would agree to such a dangerous undertaking.”

“Post a job notice regardless, in both Ozmargo and Yoana. If even one person were to answer, that would be enough to begin moving forward.”

“As you wish, Sire,” Anubis said. He bowed and excused himself.

It took more than two months to finally get a response to the job posting. An old, bent woman of the pangolin tribe, leaning on a walking stick, ambled up to the palace after sending a notice that she would take on the position. The scales of her tail rasped across the marble floor as she walked, making something like a soft rattlesnake sound. Her eyes were bleary and brown in color with blue along the edges of the iris. She looked around the palace as if unimpressed.

Anubis, having been notified of her arrival, met her at the large double doors of the throne room.

“I understand you are the one who responded to the request for an imperial midwife?” Anubis asked without pleasantries.

“Yessir,” The old woman said, her voice cracking with age.

“Your name, so I may announce you to His Majesty?”

“Coral will do.”

“I see. Follow me.”

Anubis turned at the guardsmen manning the doors and nodded. The doors swung open, and sitting there were both His and Her Majesties. His Majesty’s throne sat center stage on the raised dais with Her Majesty’s smaller throne to his immediate right, turned slightly to face him. Sariphi wasn’t used to receiving guests while sitting on her throne yet, so she often stayed silent unless directly spoken to. His Majesty had told her she didn’t need to receive the guests if she didn’t want to, but Sariphi had insisted she wanted to take her role as queen seriously, and that included being a welcoming host.

“Your Majesties,” Anubis said, coming up and bowing. “I present Coral, the woman who has answered the request for an imperial midwife.”

“Very well,” His Majesty said, waving his hand. Anubis bowed again and stepped to the side, allowing the old woman to stagger toward the dais. “We welcome you, Coral. Before your official appointment, you must prove yourself capable of the duties you will be assigned. We have the documentation and testimonials you sent us beforehand, but that will be useless to us if you are deemed unfit for the position.”

“Seems fine,” Coral said amiably. “Although it seems like you’ve not got much choice, elseways, as I'm the only one who showed up.”

“Mind your tongue!” Anubis hissed. “You are in the presence of Their Majesties, if you’ve forgotten! Be respectful!”

“Hush up, pup,” She said, flapping her hand at him dismissively. Anubis seethed, but His Majesty waved him down “I’m as old as dirt and twice as bitter, so I ain’t all that keen on niceties. If you want to get all bent out of shape ‘cause I’m not standin’ on ceremony, you go right ahead, but I reckon I was called here for a reason, and that ain’t it.”

Sariphi hid a giggle. Coral reminded her of Bennu and she instantly felt affection for the old woman.

“Indeed,” His Majesty said, nonplussed. “Are you confident you can treat a human?”

“Sure, sure,” Coral said with a shrug. “I’ve been a midwife for nearly a century now, and I’ve helped all manner of child into the world. Humans are mammals, as I understand, and the basics of mammals are reasonably similar; the bits are usually in the same place and work just the same. Usually. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“We understand,” His Majesty said, standing. “What do you need to begin?”

“Well, to start, I need to examine the girlie here,” Coral said, nodding at Sariphi. “She’s the one I’ll be lookin’ after, I figure.”

His Majesty glanced at Sariphi, who nodded and stood up.

“You are permitted to conduct an examination,” He said. “Though you will not do so alone. Princess Amit will be present for the examination, and Captain Lantevelt will stand guard outside of the door.”

His Majesty motioned for the edge of the dais, where Amit and Jormungand stood. Amit stepped forward while Jormungand stepped back. He also motioned near the other side of the dais, where Lantevelt was standing. He joined Amit and waited for Sariphi to step down.

“There is a dedicated room for you in which you may work,” Anubis told Coral. “And your sleeping accommodations are also located there. Princess Amit knows where it is and will lead you there. If you pass the trial period and are hired, you will report directly to Their Majesties or to myself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, you’re very important, I get it.”

Anubis growled in agitation.

“You will relay your findings to us when you have finished,” His Majesty said. “Afterward, we wish to speak to you privately.”

“You got it, boss,” Coral said, not waiting to be dismissed and waving her stick at Amit. “Lead on, missy.”

“Yes,” Amit said, bowing. “Follow me, please.”

Sariphi patted His Majesty’s hand briefly before following Amit, Lantevelt, and Coral. His Majesty watched the group walk out of the throne room and sat back on his throne.

“You seem worried, Sire,” Jormungand told him. “Her Majesty is well, I trust?”

“She is as robust as she has ever been, yes,” His Majesty replied. “It is not out of fear for her health that I do this.”

“I do not presume to know what troubles you, Sire,” Jormungand said. “But as a soon-to-be husband myself, I can imagine I may face similar tribulations in the future. You have my sympathies.”

“Hmm,” His Majesty said, standing. “Your concern is appreciated, Captain.”

Anubis sniffed in discomfort. “As I have nothing to contribute to this conversation, I will carry on with my duties. If you will excuse me.” He bowed and left.

Jormungand laughed. “As cold as ever, Abi.” He turned back to His Majesty. “I shall also take my leave, Sire.”

“You may do so,” His Majesty said. As Jormungand bowed and made to depart, His Majesty called suddenly. “Jormungand.”

Jormungand halted and turned on his heel. “Yes, Sire?”

“We must imagine Anubis would find discussing domestic troubles quite… distasteful,” He began slowly. “Would we be correct in assuming you would be… more receptive to such things?”

Jormungand tilted his head. “That may be. Certainly more so than Abi.”

“In the future…” His Majesty said, but then stopped himself.

Jormungand realized what His Majesty was trying to ask and chuckled.

“If ever you need an ear, Your Majesty, I’m more than willing to lend you both of mine. Feel free to call me Jor when we are alone. If it suits you, of course.”

His Majesty showed a hint of a smile, since no one else besides himself and Jormungand was there to see it. “We are… I am grateful. Jor. Thank you.”

Jormungand gave him a good-natured laugh.

“What are friends for, Your Majesty?”

With that, Jormungand bowed again and excused himself.

Friends. For many years, His Majesty had debated whether it was appropriate or even possible for a king to have friends. His father… well, his uncle, the previous king, certainly had no one that could be considered a friend. The closest would have been the previous Anubis, the current Anubis’s father, though the previous king barely batted an eyelash when his most loyal vassal had died right in front of him.

When he first became king, His Majesty had emulated the previous king in behavior, since he had no other example to follow. Now, after having met Sariphi, he had come to realize that the previous king’s life was rather… empty. Hollow. As such, His Majesty decided that he didn’t wish to live the same way. Granted, having friends would require him to be more open, which he still found difficult, but he believed it would be worth it in the end.

He’d had only one friend since he was a boy. Now... he had two. His Majesty smiled to himself and went back to his office.

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#niehime to kemono no ou #The sacrificial princess and the king of beasts #Sariphi #Sariphie #Saliphi #Saliphie #Princess Amit #Captain Jormungand #Ou-Sama #Leonheart #Fanfiction #Fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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