Shan Yu X Reader Part 2 - "Victory; Between Then and Now"
Part 1 (Linked) Summary- The peasant dancer of Nanjing believed everything to be normal on a pleasant winter morning. But soon after she began cooking, a sudden roar erupted from outside her home-- upon inspection, it was clear invaders had come to raid and destroy anyone and everything. It was horrific- and then, an invader had collapsed off his horse, and laid unconscious with a head injury. Y/N knew it was wrong... But, she couldn't help but aid a wounded man, regardless of his identity.
Hey cuties! Upon many requests, part 2 is finally here!
As a big history nerd, I went down a rabbit hole to figure out who everyone would be in total historical accuracy, and it's actually pretty interesting. The Balled of Mulan comes from Northern Wei- a kingdom of "Huns" (steppe/proto-mongolian nomads named Xianbei) that larped as Chinese basically lol. Well, traditionalists who didn't want to take Chinese culture over their own split apart, forming the Rouran Khanate. So, in the OG Mulan, Mulan is not ethnically Chinese, and she fights against her "cousins" in a sense lol, aka the Rouran Khanate. They created the term Khan! And the term "Chanyu" was the name given for supreme leaders of their grandpa culture, called Xiongnu.
Shan Yu in this story is HEAVILY based off of the Rouran culture. Actually, you can pinpoint any part of this story, and I'll give you my sources for why Y/N or Shan Yu's people do this or that lolll
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His skin was as pale as snow in contrast to the specs of blood on his face, where a scar ran down his left eye. Beyond that was the thick wound bleeding heavily on his forehead. His breathing was light- reinforcing the goal of why she even ran over here into her head. “Ancestors, give me strength,” she prayed under her breath as she gripped the man’s fur lined clothing.
An invader, or a foreigner sent to fight the invaders? She silently hoped he was the latter as she summoned every ounce of strength within her much smaller body to move the man across the gravel and into her home- inch by inch. The rational choice was to abandon all and run, and she knew that. But something about dragging this man into her home felt natural; something in her blood told her to make this choice. Even as her knees buckled when lifting even half his weight and she’d cry from the arm strain, she was determined.
She moved quickly to get this injured man what he needed: a hot bowl of water, a clean cloth, and warm soup. She set the bowl beside the foreign man and grabbed a rag, dipping it into the water and proceeding to wipe down the man’s face and wounds, washing away the caked up blood over his injury. Blood soaked the rag as she delicately cleaned him- making her stomach churn at the sight of the water turning red.
Blood; the sign of a fighter. And it suited him.
“Mmm… definitely an invader,” she whispered in reply to her unspoken question from earlier. His face was fierce- sharp angles, paled, and marked with past battles. He looked like a warrior inside and out, yet prestigious in his barbaric, foreign appearance. She just wanted to analyze his face, placing the rag into the water bowl-- his features that all fell together so naturally. His strong chest rose steadily, making her wonder how he wasn’t burning up under the clothing. Perhaps he was.
Her eyes lowered to his exposed neck, slightly wet due to the rag, and her stomach felt like it had butterflies. His Adam's apple was visible, as well as the deep lines of his check that trailed down into his strong sternum, or what was exposed of it. It was a stupid idea, but she rationalized that it was better he didn't overheat. Her delicate fingers slowly pressed against his strong chest, his rough skin burning to the touch. Y/N bit her lip as she slowly pressed harder, an unmistakable blush filling her face as her fingers wanted nothing more but to explore.
Suddenly- he stirred.
The fearful peasant had stayed during a massacre, and dragged the wounded enemy into her home despite being twice her size. She touched and cared for this warrior despite her fear and the risk of death, then fed him first as she starved. Her survival through hardship and kindness to the hostile invader had solidified her place in his wicked heart, perhaps as a gift from destiny, and so he took her with him through the path of victory.
The sun was beginning to set by the time Y/N had left her home of Nanjing forever. Her shaky hands were tied to the harness of the large horse, head hung low as her final tears dripped onto its black fur. The men's foreign language was like nails on a chalkboard; how could anything but hate run through her in this moment? Her city had been burned down, neighbors and daily acquaintances shot and killed, and many children never had the chance to grow up. This was a massacre. An immoral act without reason; what had the kids done to the Huns to deserve this? The blood of the innocent victims stained the snow, snow that glowed orange as it reflected the light of the fire cremating the entire city.
These men were just as the civilized say. Ruthless, unintelligent barbarians.
Shan Yu finished discussing whatever it was with the other generals, waving his hand in dismissal as he approached his captured peasant. He gripped the harness, petting the head of his horse as a grin spread across his face. The sickening voice of the murderer filled the silence.
"You betrayed these people when you aided me, yet you cry. You act like you do not want me."
Y/N furrowed her brows and turned away from the monster, whose voice still put butterflies in her stomach. The long sleeve of her dancer’s Hanfu brushed across her cheeks, cold to the touch, wiping away the tears that had not stopped falling. Once, the garment had been a symbol of cultural pride, made of flowing layers adorned with delicate embroidery, carrying the grace and beauty of her identity. Now, she wore it as the remnant of a home that no longer existed.
It was all her fault. She had nothing to say.
A deep chuckle echoed from his throat as he moved to the side of the horse, mounting it within a second. His arms caged her in, strong hands gripping the reins as his chest pressed against her back which arched in an attempt to avoid his touch. Though it quickly proved futile as Shan Yu leaned in closer, either to further upset her or for better grip. A shiver ran down her spine; it was a cold winter, and his touch was like being enveloped in a thick blanket. A bitter sigh left Y/N’s lips; if his touch was both unavoidable and pleasurable, she might as well accept it.
How romantic it would be in any other circumstance.
...
The sun had nearly set, and the men seemingly have not grown tired nor cold during their march through the snowy mountains. Amazingly, a few were even bare-chested despite the biting wind, carrying banners with wolves and birds symbols, and mounted on horses. Speaking of birds, it was only a few minutes ago when this large hawk landed onto Shan Yu's shoulder, seemingly scouting the area for him like they were military partners. Hunger gnawed at Y/N's stomach as much as the cold gnawed her fingers, but she was far too exhausted– or depressed– to give it a second thought.
Perhaps losing fingers to frostbite was the ancestors' way of hinting at punishment. Perhaps the true punishment would come later, and be much more horrific.
The only thing occupying her mind was how to sleep without slumping too heavily against Shan Yu’s chest. Even through the layers of animal hide, she could feel the warmth of him, picturing his upper body as solid and unmovable as stone. It sure felt like that. It almost made her blush at the thought of it, but she shook it away. Now was not the time for perverted thoughts. Even if it pulled her away from cruel reality for just a moment.
She cracked a smile at the thought of two weeks ago, when the men selected for service strutted by in their military uniforms, and all the girls were flaunting themselves to snatch the manliest soldier. Y/N the dancer actually pulled one man into her performance, and he even asked her to marry on the spot before getting dragged away by his military officer. What was his name again? Ling, or was it Yao? Perhaps it didn’t matter, he was likely dead. Or will be.
Suddenly the hawk took flight through the mountain air, its sharp caw disturbing the unpleasant silence. After a moment, the bird had returned; and with that, the horse’s movements slowed to a stop. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, quickly looking around the snowy field within the mountains they were in. It was sort of a nice spot, all things considered; they were low enough in the mountain valley that wind hardly passed through, and the surrounding boulders and ledges served as coverage. Shan Yu turned his horse to the side, muttering something to the other Huns, who nodded their heads and passed the word.
Suddenly, the warm breath of Shan Yu touched her exposed neck. “Are you hungry?”
Y/N frowned as she turned to see his stern expression, and the eyes of a warlord stared back. She had not wanted to answer, but stomach growled again, answering for her. “I will not eat your food, murderer,” she turned her head, voice so brittle that Shan Yu hardly understood. A low chuckle vibrated from his chest to her back, and in the next moment, he had unmounted the horse.
“Uh– wh-what are you doing?” Y/N asked, tightly gripping the reins as he led the horse over near a stone wall.
“I will return shortly. Observe the ways of my people, so that soon you will assist as they do.” Simple and practical reply, but the hidden meanings irked her. He knew what he was saying. He tied the rein to a rock that conveniently stuck out just enough. Then his fingers crept into the lining of the fur coat, taking it off in an instant– revealing a sculpted chest that made Y/N yelp and turn away upon sight. Her hands sprung up to cover her eyes as redness spread across her face. How indecent!
“I-I am no man,” Y/N replied as if she was hardly thinking before speaking, “why would I assist in– in war efforts?”
Am I going insane, she thought to herself. This man clearly had an incredible diet to have muscles like that. Perhaps his ancestors and whatever evil gods found favor in him especially.
A heavy weight roughly sat onto her shoulders, pulling her mind into reality immediately. The fur coat fit massively, and the smell of it was… human, whatever that meant. It smelt of him– or, any man that could comfort her the most if she imagined him hard enough. But there was another scent she couldn’t quite name. She pulled the coat around herself further, finally having a true escape from the stinging cold.
Y/N felt shy when she turned her head towards him– his face, obviously, not the exposed chest– and frowned. The kinder side of her worried if he’d be cold. Then she remembered that’s what monsters who kill children deserve. To freeze as their body is left to be desecrated and never to be properly buried, ensuring generations of family misfortune. May the gods send him through each chamber of hell.
Shan Yu gave a momentary look, satisfied, before turning and walking off.
And in less than an hour, multiple mini-camps with small tents sprung up surrounding fires and lightweight cookery. Men walked around carrying saddles, supplies, and weapons while others cooked and conversed. It was as incredible as it was disheartening to see how well these barbarians were at concealing themselves; most of these were survival tactics learned thousands of years ago, and are the main reason why the army had so successfully destroyed great cities.
Perhaps the true grief hadn’t quite hit her head. Her head hung low, legs like deadweight hanging off the side of the horse, and she softly cried a few tears of humility. But on the inside, it was numb. “Ancestors, is my brother alive?”
Yet it seemed the dead never answered back anymore. Or perhaps her mind was so good at distracting itself from them, ever since they led her to this fate. On a horse, wrapped in the ultimate enemy’s coat, comforted by it, while being stared at by men who murdered her friends. Who murdered the old couples and their grandchildren, then burned every valuable they had with it. She saw it with her own eyes, but how can it be real?
Clearly these men viewed her as equally disgraceful, and would’ve likely killed her if their leader did not want her. At this point, Y/N no longer felt that twinge of Han superiority.
And her eyes wouldn’t stray away from the Hun women.
Y/N could hardly tell they were women at first. They wore the same heavy wool and furs of the men, with long braids and warrior eyes. Nor did they walk in gentle submission like Han women, but each step served purpose beyond simply living to be married and bare sons. But the true bewilderment came from the sight of a Hun woman somewhere to the left who openly snapped at a man twice her size. The warrior didn't strike her. He merely grunted and hauled a heavier stack of hides to the shelter. Anywhere in China, such insolence would be punished severely; here, it was respect and hierarchy.
Perhaps that is what Shan Yu meant when he said she would assist. These Hun women were as valuable as men it seemed, if not more. Could the luxury of liberation outweigh the comforts of Han submission and governance? Or would a free body and a free voice be worth harsh climates and manuel labor? Or was life better as a slave to men but the comfort of Great China?
“I am going mad. I would rather die than be married into Hun culture.”
In the corner of her eye, a bulky figure came into view, drawing her attention away from her thoughts. Shan Yu rolled his shoulders, the muscles flexing as if it were an art form, as he exited the largest of the tents. A woman walked beside him carrying two bowls with steamy contents.
Disgusting. Was she his wife, perhaps? One of them, anyway. She carried herself like one, with the authority of a noblewoman, presenting openly her wealth in the form of colored beads and ribbon-like fabric braided into her hair. She was beautiful; though, not like what is praised in Nanjing, but equally as admirable. Her head met Shan Yu’s as she spoke, as if she were his equal. And no one rebuked her voice nor spared a judgemental glance.
Why would Shan Yu choose to marry a submissive Han over a beautiful noblewoman with a voice?
Into the darker areas where the fires’ warmth hardly reached, they closed distance on Y/N, who watched with caution. But the woman merely held a soft smile as she handed a bowl to Shan Yu then began to walk away.
A woman serving her husband; at least barbarians understood that much, she hollowly thought.
But instead of eating, he held the bowl up to her.
“Eat.”
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, looking into his dark eyes for a sign of trickery. But Huns are not known for torture nor tricks. “I would sooner starve before I eat from your hands,” she replied grimly, narrowing her eyes at the bowl of cooked mutton fat- greasy, without ginger, seasoning, or steamed rice. Barbarian food. She wanted to throw it in his face. She wanted to starve out of spite.
Then her stomach growled louder, causing her to wince at the pain.
A guttural laugh came from Shan Yu, “your body says otherwise. I cannot have a wife that is too thin to bear children.” His free hand grabbed the knot of her restraints, brushing her skin to untie the restraints. Within a moment, she was freed.
Immediately, Y/N pulled her arms away, hiding under his coat, “I will sooner die than bare your children!--” she moved a little too quickly as she tried to lean away, quickly falling back instead, “--haaa!-”
Shan Yu quickly gripped her waist, pulling her forcibly towards him so that instead of falling back and breaking her neck, he pulled her to his exposed chest– and yes, it was hard as stone, just as she imagined. His arm wrapped around her lower back as she settled onto the ground, her hands gripping his shoulders as his coat fell onto the ground. The horse made a displeased sound from behind, but Y/N was too flustered to notice.
“If you die, it will clearly be an accident instead of suicide.”
“Ugh!” Y/N scowled as she pushed off of him, stumbling back through the thick snow as she hugged herself. The sudden intrusion of coldness was bad enough, but the hours spent on the horse made her legs wobbly now that she was standing. “Or, you will kill me instead! I do not want to marry you, Shan Yu– you–”
Burning flesh and burning wood and burning paper and burning bodies and burning hair. That’s the smell that she couldn’t quite recognize on the coat– the scent now latched onto her own clothing. The smell of burning.
The flesh of those she knew burnt. How many were still alive during it? How many thought they could escape but were shot down? How many mothers and fathers couldn’t save their children, or how many children didn’t understand how to save themselves? Where did her brother go? Her brother abandoning her in what was likely his final moments. Watching people get shot and killed before their very eyes. The sight of the Hun warrior falling, wounded, and the voices that told her to rescue him. Those voices were evil. They clearly knew they were making her save the worst Hun of all.
Shan Yu’s shadow enveloped her as he approached, forcing her attention back to reality. Y/N sniffled as tears froze against her cheeks, and her body felt too sickly to wipe them away.
Next, his arm wrapped around her waist, pushing her forward. The poor girl stumbled, instinctively gripping onto his arm for balance as they made their way over to the nearest fire tunnel. Suddenly, a harsh shove pushed against her back, and she fell to her knees in front of the fire, frowning in humiliation.
A few other Hun men lingered near the fire tunnel, arms crossed, exchanging looks between each other before ultimately continuing their conversation. Y/N did not look. Instead, she focused on the warm tears that dried upon the delicate heat of the fire, which burned hot but smokeless in the tunnel.
Shan Yu knelt beside her, holding the bowl of food out. “Don’t make me repeat myself again. Eat.”
With shaky hands, Y/N took the bowl this time, its heat warming her fingers. The seriousness in his voice drained the color from her face-- reminding her of who she was dealing with. Shan Yu was not a kind man. The food smelt sharp and like dead animal, but her survival instincts kicked in as soon as she took the first greasy bite. She felt like a dog under Shan Yu’s gaze, who stood up but hadn’t turned away once until he seemed satisfied. Within minutes, the bowl was empty and dropped onto the snowy ground.
Surely, the Imperial army would be on their way soon and rescue her.
...
Half the tents and equipment were packed up, by the hands of the women alone, who were so few in number but worked with great speed (yes, yurts are a woman’s job lol). The men had already been remounting their horses, fed and abundantly prepared for war. And Shan Yu was no exception.
He had his coat back on and his sword tucked onto his side, as before. He had headed off a few times here and there, conversing with the other generals, and it seemed the war through China would finally be resumed. Y/N only hoped the Imperial army would win.
“You will stay here until the battle is over. Try to run, and you will pay dearly.”
Y/N hadn’t looked up at him when he spoke, but understood well. There was nothing to lose nor gain by trying to escape, even if she did make it to China. Either the Huns will win and take over, or she would be shunned for not dying with her people. A Hun woman crouched next to her, not exactly welcoming nor threateningly, and gazed up at Shan Yu. It was the woman from earlier. Y/N still wondered if she was his other wife or not.
Other wife… Like Y/N would ever marry him.
A loud caw broke through the silence, causing the Hun men to stiffen in their spots. It was like a cloud of cation had consumed the atmosphere, and immediately the men turned to the sky or surrounding mountains, or brandished their swords and bows without command.
Did instinct towards brutality run through all of them that deeply, that a bird made them flinch?
The hawk cried again, more urgent this time.
Shan Yu’s gaze narrowed toward the high mountains to their right. Y/N followed his stare; here was nothing there but snow- enough to cause such an avalanche to wipe out a whole army, a fear mongeror would say. An annoyed sigh escaped her lips, mentally comparing their harsh reaction of nothingness to a turkey's behavior.
Barbarians are truly uneducated. Lazily, her eyes drifted left instead, trailing upward along the cliffs until--
A gasp escaped her lips– deep and guttural as she rose to her feet.
Lines of armored men (and a disguised woman) moved carefully across the mountainside above and behind them. The imperial army… had caught up! Had they not realized they were seen? Had they not understood the dangers of walking around so openly?
Shan Yu reacted instantly, head snapping towards the cliffs, dark eyes locking onto the hidden soldiers. A deep, almost animalistic yell thundered from his chest as his crooked sword tore free from its sheath. One of the thinner warriors nearby pointed upward immediately, directing the others to the enemies. To her people.
The Chinese soldiers were too far away to realize they had been discovered. They continued onward in careful silence, believing themselves to be hidden. Ancestors, protect their souls and bless their good willed attempts.
Y/N’s hand flew over her mouth, as if she could somehow unalert the now alerted Huns. A sickening wave of guilt crashed into her so suddenly it nearly stole her breath, tears instantly blurring her vision. "No! No, no--"
If she had not gasped–
Shan Yu turned back toward her then, his free hand wrapping around to grip her brittle wrist that remained over her mouth, pulling her in close. She jolted, crashing into him as he peered downwards with that sinful grin.
"I knew you were a blessing," he murmured lowly, cruel amusement plain in his voice. A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest afterward, the vibrations making her want to vomit. How could she handle the guilt of saving the Hun leader, then the Hun army? Y/N’s heart pounded violently. She had done this-- perhaps not intentionally, or caused only by an unsettled mind. But the damage was done.
“Take the high ground,” Shan Yu ordered sharply in his language, lifting his sword toward the cliffs. “Remain hidden.”
He turned towards some of the women who remained at the little camp, narrowing his eyes towards them. Then with a harsh shove, he threw Y/N onto the snow before them.
“Please, Shan Yu,” Y/N lifted herself up by her arms, begging the warlord with helpless eyes. There was nothing she could do nor say to change anything, that much she knew. Oh, to have the courage to take the place of a man in war and just kill Shan Yu herself.
The warlord hardly spared a glance.
We know how the battle on the mountains goes. A little soldier is carrying a cannon that goes off, revealing the Imperial army’s position. Then the Hun army appears from a distance mountain top, and the great Shan Yu charges first.
At once, the riders moved in loyal unison, like taking orders from a personal ally rather than a legal general. Horses turned sharply through the snow as the warriors climbed higher along the mountainside, escaping the foothills to have equal ground with the approaching enemies. The imperial soldiers would be forced to travel mostly by foot, and tire themselves out. The steppe people of Shan Yu's culture were notorious archers and horsemen, easily more capable of fighting at this angle.
Perhaps, in another life, the imperial army might have succeeded. Maybe a single cannon fire would have knocked into the distant mountain, causing an avalanche that would kill most of the Huns. Maybe if Y/N had killed Shan Yu when he was injured... or at least never aided him, perhaps he'd be too dazed to see the Chinese army. Maybe if she could just shut her mouth whenever she sees her heroes approaching.
One could only imagine how young some of these men are. She had a feeling they would be novices; after all, they must've only had two weeks of training to prepare for war with men who come from generations of bloodshed. They never stood a chance. The quantity of these men could not withstand the quality of the Huns.
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I hope this chapter doesn't make Y/N come across as racist lol. I'm trying to give the most historically accurate perspective of a Han woman in distress with a steppe culture shock. You can actually read about these intermarriages in history, and it never is fully positive. Marriages were almost always political, and everyday people intermarrying was frowned upon heavily (steppe side considered abandoning his culture, Chinese side considered marrying a lowly barbarian). The Chinese were plenty hateful of the steppe groups, usually with some justification such as war, and I'm trying to have Y/N deal with that societal idea of them.
Beautiful artwork by Janny Zuu on twitter! ITS SO CUTE I LOVE IT
I picture this as them human shaped, with horns/wings as their pony version would have! I still call them ponies bc likeee they're clearly not human but still XD
Omg i think this is my first non-reader insert fic since 2023
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"Fluttershy, would you make me the happiest Draconequus alive... and marry me?"
Every head in Canterlot turned to them. Gasps filled the room, and the music came to an abrupt stop. Even the Princesses on their thrones turned their attention to the center of the room. Someone in the back must've dropped their drink.
The God of Chaos, who mocks every rule, laughs at authority, and bowed to no one.
He sat on his knee, looking up at the little lady he had long fallen in love with. An open ring box was in his shaky hands, displaying a simple yet beautiful ring that matched her perfectly. The way in glimmered in the light matched the twinkle of Fluttershy's widening eyes.
"Discord..."
His toothy grin widened at her sweet voice whispering his name. Sweat dripped profusely as the seconds passed. Was it hot in here, or was this the most scary moment of his life?
How many creatures can say they've seen Discord afraid?
Her heart beat against her chest. "Discord, I... W-We..."
Everyone was looking. Everyone. She just wanted to run away; her heart beat painfully against her chest. Why here? Why now? Why in front of everyone? Her body was shaking. Her mind was racing.
"I... I can't marry you, Discord!" The words bursted out before she could stop them. "It- It would never work! Can't you see? Discord, you-- I'm--"
She covered her mouth instantly, as she could unspeak her words. But the damage was already done. Her pupils shrunk as the moment set in. "Th-That's not wh-what..."
But the ring box was already snapped shut, and he was already off his knee, towering over the silent ballroom. His grin was gone. The audience couldn't look away; Pinkie began to cry somewhere in the back, and Applejack was too stunned to quiet her down.
But Fluttershy couldn't care less about them in this moment, let alone see them through the tears. All she could see what the man's color drained from his face. Panic clawed up her throat as she opened her mouth to speak, but--
"I see." He spoke matter-of-factly, without a single hint of playfulness. His low voice was stripped of any simulance of warmth. "I must have misunderstood our relationship. Rest assured, I shan't make that mistake again."
She had never seen him so calm, even at his calmest. Cold politeness would be a better description. Somehow, that hurt her more than if he yelled instead.
Fluttershy shook her head rapidly, reaching out her arms, "n-no, no, D-Discord, I panicked, its not-- Wait!"
A flintch- or a scowl- replaced his calm features a second before the air around them warped and the lights flickered, then
Poof.
He was gone like he had never been there.
Fluttershy collapsed onto the marble floor, a sob tearing out of her chest violently. Her hands covered her face like it would shield her from the stares she was recieving. But she must've deserved it; she humilated him in front everyone. Everyone they knew were there.
She had spoken the wrong words, words that would damage him.
"I... I love you," the whisper hardly existed at all. And Discord would never be able to hear it.
"Oh, for Celestia's sake, can't ya'll quit starin'? Mind your own business!" Applejack's voice boomed, causing noble to flinch.
Within a few moments, the ballroom returned to life. Elites returned to their conversations that had clearly died minutes ago, waiting for Applejack to walk away before gossiping amount the event they had witnessed. Even the Princesses exchanged sympathetic looks before continuing their conversation with forced composure.
"Fluttershy!" Rainbow Dash appeared from above with a gust of wind, panic across her face, "what in Equestria was that??" Twilight floated besides her, a sympathy softening her expression.
"R-Rainbow Dash," Fluttershy choked out between sobs, "how can he ma-marry me when I'm gonna die? H-He-He's immortal!"
"Oh, darling..." Rarity got onto her knees, placing her fur coat across Fluttershy's bare shoulders. "There, there... when you explain to him what you meant, I'm sure everything will be alright," her gentle words betrayed the uncertainty in her eyes.
"Yeah, maybe it'd be okay if this didn't just happen in front of, like, 200 people and- I dont know- THE PRINCESSES!" Rainbow Dash's voice squeaked, throwing her arms up. "Not exactly a private misunderstanding!"
"Will you hush, Rainbow?" Applejack warned sternly, putting her hands on her hips. "Ya think she needs to hear your fear mongerin' right now?"
But Fluttershy hardly heard them. She was hardly even present- stuck in her mind, replaying that look on his face. The face of the man she loved- the way it changed into something unrecognizable just before he disappeared. Did he flinch? Or was it a look of utter disgust?
It was haunting her-- gosh, she just wanted to leave and never return. She wished this night didn't happen. That wasn't the look of love or anger- no, it must've been hate. He must hate her now.
Her breathing picked up as she looked among her friends, hands soaked in tears.
"H-He won't e... ever talk to me again. Not ever..." she whispered between sobs. Her heart broke into another million pieces just at the thought. Life before Discord was hardly worth remembering. It was peaceful, sure, but there wasn't peaceful like hearing the teasing remarks and tea time with the God of Chaos.
Even if they never explicitly dated, let alone kissed, their relationship was more than friendship. It was love. More than enough love for a "yes, I do" instead of a "I can't, this would never work."
“Well, maybe if we go to your cottage right now, he’ll be there!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, grabbing Fluttershy’s hands and pulling her to her feet, making Rarity's coat fall right off.
Rarity furrowed her eyebrows as she stood up, brushing any dirt off the coat, "we beg your pardon?"
“Duh! Discord can teleport! Maybe he’s back at your house being all sad and dramatic, reminiscing the memories of being Fluttershy's boyfriend, before deciding never to speak to anyone ever again."
Several glares were shot in Pinkie's way, but she brushed it off. "What, I'm not wrong!"
Fluttershy's breath hitched at the idea. If Pinkie's correct in her idea, what would she even say? Could she even speak without sobbing instead? And if Discord isn't there...
Oh Celestia, she couldn't imagine never seeing Discord again. Fluttershy turned to her most trusted friend, Twilight, with panic in her eyes.
“T-Twilight… do you think he’d really be there…?”
The Princess of Friendship slowly descended to the floor, biting her lower lip as she thought it over. "I suppose... I can imagine that possibility. He wouldn't expect you to appear so suddenly."
Rainbow Dash and Applejack exchanged looks, finding no room for disagreement.
Twilight sighed heavily, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean… after something like this, I doubt he’d want to stay here.” Her ears lowered sympathetically. “And you probably don’t either.”
Fluttershy’s fingers tightened against the floral lace of her dress, creating wrinkles that made Rarity tense up at the sight of. She sniffed, wiping away some fresh tears.
“We’ll miss you at the Gala,” Twilight continued, giving her friend a light hug. Fluttershy returned the hug as the rest of their friends joined in for a moment, before pulling away. Twilight lit her horn, closing her eyes. "We'll see you soon, Fluttershy."
...
With a flash, Fluttershy stumbled into her cottage home, unaccustomed to the dark environment. Angel hopped away, startled by the sudden intrusion.
"Discord!" She shouted before she even came to her senses, rushing over the open window and looking outside. "Discord, please, if y-you hear me! I-I wanna talk, p-please! I'm sorry!" Tears streamed down her face as she spoke; each following second of silence was even more dreadful than the last. Utter desperation clawed at her throat, straining her vocal chords.
"I-I was wrong, D-Discord... I love you so much, please!" she cried out as she checked the bedroom, where they had slept together most nights. He was much taller, so he'd spoon her since the bed was too small for long legs.
"You don't need to f-forgive me! I was s-so stupid..." she checked the garden, where they spent most of their time together. The strange, talking flowers he made in the garden were gone.
"Y-You don't even need to show yourself to me... just know I..." she whispered as she checked the last place she could imagine him being next. The lakeside. "I-I was... I-I... I'm so stupid."
The only company she had was the large, full moon reflecting on the gentle ripples of the water. In any other circumstance, the view would have been serene. Now, its lonely.
And it never became less lonely.
By now, her friends had long since returned to Ponyville with little good to say about the Grand Galloping Gala- which, admittedly, was nothing new. They talked, laughed, complained, moved on.
But Fluttershy couldn’t. No matter how often they visited, no matter how gently they spoke, nothing reached her anymore. Not Applejack’s encouragement. Not Rarity’s comfort. Not even Pinkie Pie’s desperate attempts to make her smile. It wasn't the same without him. Life isn't the same without him.
How do you grieve when its your own fault he's gone? Rainbow Dash can say he never should've proposed in public, but regardless, what she said was wrong.
It grew lonely without her daily items coming to life with a snap of his fingers. It was too quiet without his sarcastic comments muttered said from nowhere just to hear her giggle. And worst of all, the bed was always too cold without him. Always.
And the memory of the look on his face played in her mind, again and again. Every night for the past month, she had replayed it. Discord kneeling awkwardly, with that toothy grin, holding out a ring with trembling claws while pretending he was totally calm.
And her panicking.
Fluttershy slept with the only photo she had of him each night. It was from whenever they first met, and he took the photo by surprise as he tore the world up in the background. She liked that photo a lot because it showed his nature better than anything. He was the chaos that was Yang, and she was calm Yin that needed him to function.
"...I didn't say I didn't love you... I was scared..."
Another sleepless night dragged on. She hugged the photo onto her chest as she stared up at the ceiling in bed, her legs pulled up close. The tears on her face had long since dried, but the grief within her ribcage was heavier than ever. "Please come back," her voice cracked, "...let me explain, Discord..."
"Explain? What exactly is there to explain?"
Fluttershy's gentle breathing went to a complete stop. She didn't have the courage to look at the foot of her bed, let alone speak. As a silent moment passed, she simply sighed, closing her eyes. The loneliness must be driving her crazy. She'd hear his voice a few times, but it was always just her imagination.
"... Just as I thought. You can't even bare to look at me."
A gasp sharp erupted as she sat forward onto her knees, eyes widened. Her fists gripped the bedsheets as she took in his appearance, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
"Discord! You're really here!"
The man stood tall by the foot of her bed, his expression unreadable. He looked tired, even if he didn't need sleep. His mismatched eyes stared blankly into hers.
As much as she wanted to smile, tears pricked her eyes within a moment- and then a wail escaped her lips.
"I'm sorry! I-I'm so-- I swear I didn't mean to- I--" within a moment, her babbling dissolved into pathetic sobs as she dipped her head into her hands.
“I love you so much,” she choked out. “I-I don’t want to die and leave you alone… I don’t want you to have to watch me disappear someday… I was scared!”
His expression completely faltered. She didn't even notice him approach her side until his arms wrapped around her head and pulled her into his chest. He breathed out unevenly as Fluttershy wrapped her arms around him desperately, hugging him like he'd disappear the moment she let go.
"...Oh, Fluttershy." His claws pet her head softly, already feeling his shirt soak from all the tears. "Shhh... Oh, you ponies are terribly emotional creatures," he murmured weakly, though no real mockery in it now.
His deep voice rumbled soothingly in his chest, calming her slightly as she pulled away just enough to look up at his face through tear-blurred eyes. His hand stroked her hair, brushing out a few tangles, with an expression almost as unreadable as before.
But, it looked relieved.
"Don't you think I had already considered your mortality?" He spoke as his thumb wiped away her tear.
His mismatched eyes looked even more beautiful from this angle.
"Fluttershy... I would rather spend one day as your husband than a million without ever knowing you."
"Now, don't beat yourself up over it. This month without you... has been the worst month of my life."
Plis plis plissss do a yandere shan yu x hun!reader plis plis plis plissss!
I love this man 😔 (I have several photos of him if you want-)
Of course!! I love me some Shan Yu 🥰
I’m gonna be so honest… I didn’t notice the “HUN!” part of your request until halfway through editing the story… IM SO SORRY!!! I’ll still post the story as is, but I’ll have to make a new one and tag you in it!
Shan Yu X Reader - “Victory”
Summary: The cities was conquered in no time. Everything was burnt to the ground... aside from a simple, poor village woman.
Art by Joudoodles on Tumblr!! Very talented! (Account is deactivated, but they post on Instagram)
The afternoon sun hung lower with every passing hour over the high walls of the great city. Nanjing was not shy of people, riches, work or entertainment; some may even silently prefer it over the Imperial Court. The sun’s golden rays casted a warm glow onto the red-tiled rooftops and paper lanterns that drifted with the soft breeze. A pleasant aroma filled the streets as the bakers baked, and children laughed and ran as they stole a piece of bread or two. Merchants shouted over one another to get the attention of potential buyers, bartering silk, jewelry, teas, charms and more. Sweet buns and sesame oil lingered in the air, as well as the pleasant sounds of flutes, pipas, erhus and more. Then, there was the dancer near the temple of Changlu.
Her movements were just heavenly. Her sun kissed skin radiated as she moved across the court, and her angelic face stopping the hearts of those who saw it. Her sleeves swung like a koi in a stream, her movements telling stories as old as time; tales of rain spirits, warriors, and star-crossed lovers. Her heal clicked onto the pavement as she danced with perfect rhythm, and the bells she wore on her waist jingled softly. Her clothing looked to be made by Yang Ash– the very Goddess of Beauty herself. Little did the people know that every cent an onlooker gave her went to these clothes, and they were easily the most valuable thing she had ever had. Hand made, each intricate detail and little gem had been selected carefully to create her vision of the perfect attire.
However, her body had grown tired over the hours. Although she loved the faces of the people-- the generous old ladies reminiscing their past youthful beauty, the farmers and soldiers in awe by such a woman, and the begger children aspiring to be talented-- she was ready to leave. The sun would be setting soon, and the decorated clay bowl besides her had been filled to the brim with tossed coins. With a final sway of her body, she reached her finale; her limbs were shaky as she took her bow and collected her things.
“Y/N,” the people murmured. “Mei ren-- a beautiful one.” It made Y/N smile softly to hear the last praises of the day.
She departed. Through the back allies and towards the mostly invisible slums of the city was the place her and her older brother called home. The laughter, music and sweet smells had long since faded away, and the reality of her position in life had came back. The dances she loved was her escape from this reality- and the bells of the city clanging to mark the hour had reminded her of her poverty. The bell that rang the end of break time for the poor workers and jianmin, the lowest ranks of society.
A single, nearly collapsed room held as firm as possible under the weight of its own roof, wedged between the little homes of other impoverished citizens. This was what she and their neighbors called home, a thin walled, long stretch of broken homes. Her beautiful attire and porcelain bowl of coins clashed heavily with the aesthetic; her tired face was in a pout as her heel clicked onto the floor. As quietly as possible, she removed her shoes by the front door- wincing at the pain of her heel.
“You are late,” the familiar, degrading voice called. Her older brother sat on the floor, legs crossed, sipping cheap wine like he was the emperor. It almost made her laugh at the irony.
“Like a beautiful fox, you dance so well; yet, you are unable to use said beauty for honor or livelihood. All these men gaze upon you for hours, yet you still have no husband to bring honor to the family.”
Y/N frowned with her head hung low as she gazed up at his bitter expression. The anxiety building up in her stomach made her wanna gag, and the coins rattled in the bowl from her trembling hands. She was always so scared to see him, and her eyes casted down into the bowl as she held it out for him. “Yes, Hao,” she whispered pathetically, “but, look... We can afford to fix the roof! My dancing does... had paid off.”
Hao, her brother, scanned the bowl with slight interest, but annoyance none the less. With a sigh, he stubbled over and snatched it out of her hands. He removed half of the coins, counting them in his hands, before tsking. “This just will not do, Y/N. Clearly another week of dancing is required before the roof is fixed."
She knew he was half lying. Half, because what he says is only true when you factor in how much he spends on alcohol. Otherwise, another week is indeed in order. He continued, "now, I provided you with ingredients; make something of it.”
Y/N said nothing as she softly moved passed him, chills running down her spine. She hated being around him because, beyond his sour attitude, the tension of his anger lingered in the rooms like smoke. Something as simple as walking passed him too quickly could result in her being hit. It was sort of strange, given how much he prayed to his Confucian gods and filled the house with his religious props, he failed being the head of the household starting with his first act of abuse.
She knelt down to light the stove, her muscles sore from hours of movement. Her brother returned to the bamboo matt, lighting the bowl of ash, for they were too poor to afford a proper incense burner. He groaned as he knelt back down, seething as his hands clasped in prayer. Y/N shot him a sympathetic look.
His back was crooked from the years of intense labor in the fields. He was only a few years older than her, about 24 by now, with no wife, heir, job, or true reason to live on. It was dishonorable to be in this state at such a young age, but when his back was too injured to continue working all the extra shifts their late parents couldn't work, he gave up. They lost their farm, ancestorial relicts, animals, and whatever else gave them value a few years ago, and they haven't been in a better state ever since. The last thing he could provide was this ugly shack they called home, for which she was grateful. The loss of their parents was devastating for them both, of course, but being an orphaned, young man in this society was a pressure most couldn't handle.
That is why Y/N didn't find a husband, little did he know. Because if she did, she would no longer be able to care for her bitter brother-- and without her, he would have nothing left.
She sliced turnip and boiled millet, and her stomach beginning to growl. A sigh escaped her lips- it was just another day. Half her funds will go towards Hao’s drinking, and the other half to food. The money will never be used on other matters. And frankly, a little rain didn't hurt her movements when she danced, but a broken arm did.
Besides, Y/N was a rather delicate woman. The fight in her was equivalent to trying to light a wet match-- it takes a long time for her to get worked up. She lived life by gritting her teeth and pushing forward, hoping one day that a better one will find her. But for now, living under the threat of her brother Hao was certainly livable. Food was done now anyway, and she gently grabbed two bowls.
Then, the screaming broke the uncomfortable silence of the room.
First it was faint. Then, it grew louder. The two siblings looked around to see what direction it was coming from, then looked at each other in shock and confusion.
KRSHH-- the snapping of wood outside made Y/N drop the bowls in a gasp, and Hao struggled to raise onto his feet. She turned to him, rushing over to help him up-- his arm wrapped around her rather protectively, holding her close as they approached the door in haste.
Finally, the crackling of fire grew louder with the sounds of horses galloping. The paper door slid upon roughly, getting caught on the grooves of the floor, and revealing the scene in front of them. Crowds running for their lives as arrows flew through the air, cutting through the skin of the unfortunate people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Neighbors opened their doors to see the scene, then running for their lives as another round of fire arrows flew without missing. Just minutes ago there was nothing- and now all this, like a sudden tsunami of fire.
Smoke and ash began to filter in through the cracks, and the neighbors just across the pathway had been set ablaze. Bodies and horses littered the streets, and blood mixed with the muddy holes in the path. Y/N covered in her mouth in horror, an unexpected cry leaving her trembling lips. Tears poured from her eyes like a waterfall as she gaged her brother's reaction.
“Hao! What do we do?” Y/N cried out, nearly collapsing from the utter terror. “Hao!”
“Enough!” He screamed back, his voice full of fear. He turned his head towards her and stopped for a moment. His face was in a scowl-- but as Y/N stared back with blurry, tear filled eyes, she saw his face soften. Sympathy or regret leaked through his hardened facade.
Then… Then he ran.
“What— Hao! Hao, no, don’t leave me!” Y/N screamed out loud, sucking in smoke as she did so, causing her to cough and lean on the doorway. She stuck her head out, but he was nowhere to be seen beyond the chaos. The smoke was pouring into the streets, blinding crowds of people and soldiers on horse back. The tensity in her leg muscles meant her mind was screaming at her to run, her heart pumping with adrenaline, but her legs just wouldn't move.
Her brother loved her enough to give her a home. Surely he wouldn’t leave her- maybe he was just trying to get help from within the city walls. Surely, right?
And suddenly, an arrow came in through the doorway and stuck into the unfinished floor board. Her head slowly turned to face it. It wasn't on fire, but the potential of death lingered from it. “Oh my gods,” she prayed, looking up as she closed her eyes and clasped her hands, tears slipping past her chin. “Oh my gods! Gods, please, save me! Ancestors, guide me! Please!” Y/N screamed loudly as her legs gave out, her pretty outfit hitting the mud as she ignored the burning sensation in her throat.
Although the sound of invading soldiers and screams were drowning out, as perhaps enough people were dead or swarming into the city, she heard the quiet grunt that followed the scream of a horse. Her breathing suddenly halted as she slowly looked up, leaning forward with one hand on her knee and the other wiping tears out of her eyes.
A bulky man fell from his horse, his sword clinking onto the ground as his body collapsed, making dust jump into the air around him. However, he didn't look right among the bodies of her dead neighbors. His fur coat was not of Chinese origin for sure, and neither was his horse's armor. The horse ran off before she could get too good of a look, following the last remaining crowds to wherever they were going.
But her eyes never left his unmoving form, aside from his chest subtly heaving. He was clearly alive and injured. Sympathy ran through her body as the idea hit that, perhaps, she could heal him.
"He's... an invader," she reasoned with herself in a soft whisper. Help him, a voice called back from deep within. Help him.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she quietly groaned, wishing this invader could just stand up and help himself. He's clearly a big enough man to withstand whatever injured him for now. He's clearly a bad man for causing harm to her neighbors, and probably more.
“Gods, protect me...”
Within seconds, she reached the man- stumbling over a rock as she did her best to avoid blood and dead bodies. He looked so much bigger up close-- like, freakishly large in comparison.
His skin as pale as snow in contrast to the specs of blood on his face, where a scar ran down his left eye. Beyond that was the thick wound bleeding heavily on his forehead. His breathing was light- reinforcing the goal of why she even ran over here into her head. “Ancestors, give me strength,” she prayed under her breath as she gripped the man’s fur lined clothing.
An invader, or a foreigner sent to fight the invaders? She silently hoped he was the latter as she summoned every ounce of strength within her much smaller body to move the man across the gravel and into her home- inch by inch. The rational choice was the abandon all and run, and she knew that. But something about dragging this man into her home felt natural; something in her blood told her to make this choice. Even as her knees buckled when lifting even half his weight and she’d cry from the arm strain, she was determined. And when she finally shut the paper door after getting him into the home, she let out a painful cry. That cry wasn’t just out of desperation; but out of thanks. “Thank you ancestors! Thank you gods! Thank you!” she cried out.
She moved quickly to get this injured man what he needed: a hot bowl of water, a clean cloth, and warm soup. She set the bowl besides the foreign man and grabbed a rag, dipping it into the water and proceeding to wipe down the man’s face and wounds, washing away the caked up blood over his injury. Blood soaked the rag as she delicately cleaned him- making her stomach churn at the sight of the water turning red.
Blood; the sign of a fighter. And it suited him.
“Mmm… definitely an invader,” she whispered in reply to her unspoken question from earlier. His face was fierce- sharp angles, paled, and marked with past battles. He looked like a warrior inside and out, yet prestigious in his barbaric appearance. She just wanted to analyze his face, placing the rag into the water bowl-- his features that all fell together so naturally. His strong chest rose steadily, making her wonder how he wasn’t burning up under the clothing. Perhaps he was.
Her eyes lowered to his exposed neck, slightly wet due to the rag, and her stomach felt like it had butterflies. His adams apple was visible, as well as the deep lines of his check that trailed down into his strong sternum, or what was exposed of it. It was a stupid idea, but she rationalized that it was better he didn't overheat. Her delicate fingers slowly pressed against his strong chest, his rough skin burning to the touch. Y/N bit her lip as she slowly pressed harder, an unmistakable blush filling her face as her fingers wanted nothing more but to explore.
Suddenly- he stirred.
His eyes open like a bolt of lightning- piercing yellow and wide as he sat up in a hurry. Y/N jumped back with a loud gasp, covering her face with her hands. The man looked around frantically, then at her, then where his sword was supposed to be in on his side. He glanced at her robes made for only the finest of society, then at the wreck of a home they resided in.
“Y-You are safe!” She blurted out frantically, placing her hands in front of her to show she was no threat. “You,” she stuttered, unsure if he even understood her language, “you fell off your horse and- and there was chaos outside. I-I…”
He stared at her silently, his expression unreadable. Her lips quivered as she paused, then slowly getting into an upright position. “I… thought you would die,” she added, her voice softening, “I could not leave a warrior to die.”
He turned his head, glancing across the room once more, calmly. No tricks were being played- he was certain of it. He stood up as if nothing ever happened. Y/N bit her lip, quickly grabbing the bowl of soup beside she and rising. “I know it is not much… but I thought you might need the energy if… once you awoke,” she explained shamefully as she held out the bowl of soup meant for only the lowest of the poor. I’d be more honorable to give him dirt, she thought. The man looked down at her- his staggering height nearly touching the roof. Yet, humbly, he took the bowl into his much larger hands and drank from it like it was the only food he’s had in days.
Y/N trembled as she watched for his reaction to the dinner, neatly folding her hands behind her and hanging her head low. Within moments, he had finished eating and placed the bowl on the ancestorial shrine. The act was a disrespectful, but it confirmed again in her mind that he was not a friend, but a foe. The staggering silence was almost unbearable- but he hardly seemed to notice as he wasted no time heading towards the door.
"You... are one of the invaders, aren't you?"
He stopped in his tracks, turning his head towards her slowly. Her voice came out weakly as tears trinkled down her cheeks. His voice was low and gravelly as he replied.
“Yes.”
A pause came as her throat dried up, before her thoughts came out rapidly. “P…Please, take what you’d like- anything! I will tell no one. But… p—“
“Collect what you need,” the man cut her off with a flat but demanding voice. Her heart stopped as she repeated his demand in her head. The invader's expression darkened when he smiled- solidifying the indirect threat in his demand. His towering figure loomed over her, the weak candlelight giving him an ominous look. With a quick nod, she scurried to grab a little bag and collect all the coins she had earned earlier that day. She quickly reached under her bed to pull out a small necklace- then as she spun around in haste, she impacted with a solid force that made her stumble backwards.
Strong arms grabbed her before she fell, making her gasp at his harshness. "Wha- Hey!—"
She yelped as she was suddenly slung over his shoulder, swinging her weak arms against his back in protest. With his other hand, he stuffed her bag of gold and necklace into his satchel.
“No!” she cried heavily, pushing hard against him. “Please— please— Ancestors, please! I am not married— I am a no one, a husbandless woman! I am only a dancer!” She talked down to herself, hoping to make this man grow uninterested as he stepped outside the home. She cried as she struggled against him, turning her head to the street and gasping.
Bodies were being looted by men who looked just like this warrior, some cloaked in blood and others appearing as if nothing ever happened. Flames raged on the destroyed city beyond the walls, and some of the neighboring homes were slowly burning away. The message was clear to the emperor: the Huns can and will destroy whatever they must if the emperor does not accept defeat.
“You saved my life, thus harboring a fugitive and betraying China,” he replied coldly, a sly smirk growing onto his face. As if her actions were like signing a contract. “Now you belong to me. I shall repay you in many ways.”
Y/N's eyes widened at the realization. She was too busy playing savior to think of the consequences of it.
As the Great City of Yansheng burned to the ground, the invading men laughed and celebrated their victory. Water and food to last weeks were now in their possession. The Chinese Army had yet to even come close according to the scouts, giving plenty of time to escape the city. Or, what was a city- now all that remained by piling ash with buildings claimed by flames.
She stood by his side the whole time, ropes typing her wrists to the horse's harness. It was humiliating, but it was clear the man she saved was more than a warrior. He was Shan Yu. The notorious leader of the Huns, and worst enemy of her homeland. And she would be his.
She thought of her brother. The begger children. The elderly ladies and soldier men at the temple of Changlu.
The dancer no longer had the temple in the center of the city to dance by. No music played- just roars of fire. No sweet bread smells- only smoke and cremation. And soon, only the peaceful silence of death will remain of it.
…
…
…
Guilt really is a weak word. It means nothing in cases like this.
The entire country— Family, friends. Culture and language. Communities, farmers and workers. All of it either changed or died.
Shan Yu would have been dead if she hadn’t taken him. After all, Huns did suffer losses in the attack against Yansheng, though it wasn't enough. All it took was one citizen to kill the injured Hun before Y/N could save him. And really, she didn't know why she did it. She wondered every night as she laid alone in bed- “what would have been if I ran away? Would pitiful death be better than living a life of guilt?”
A sudden crack in the bedroom door made light pour in, landing directly onto her sleepless eyes. Though she was more than familiar with polygamy, sadly, she couldn't help but feel betrayed when her husband spent time with his other wives and concubines. She had a twinge of love for him, as he did repay her in many ways since the day they met. But she did not love, or like, his other women.
The bed dipped to her side as her husband got under the covers, his strong arm engulfing her as he pulled her close so that he was spooning her. Her back made contact with his strong chest, making goosebumps appear on her flesh. The proximity to danger had as much as a thrill as it did danger, and nowadays, she no longer had fear. By now, she knew not to bring up her brother and past village.
“You chose this life!” he would yell at her, threatening her until she cried and apologized. She was only truly fearful of death, but he loved her too much to follow through on his threats.
A sudden kiss planted onto her cheek made her shiver, his hand gently planting on her hips and trailing up to her side. But still, she said nothing as her little hands reached up to grab his strong bicep that wrapped around her like a cage. He was so warm against her, she didn't realize she was cold until now.
"I love you," he said, more like a general statement than affirmation.
And he did. He did love her. She was his main wife, after all, and the others were secondary and political. Only she had political power, she told herself, unlike any other woman in Hun-occupied China.
She pressed against him softly, purring lowly as she repeated the same sentiment.
For those who just want a simple headcannon, here's something for ya'll: a prompt list! (idk what to call it)
Just give me your character, gender of the reader, and the number. :)
Also, please suggest any scenario you want. I mean, ANYTHING. I need more things to write about.
What I write for.
If you see an option you like, but you want the S/O and Reader to swap positions, then tell me please. (Ex. 17 is S/O learning Reader's native language, but feel free to ask for Reader learning S/O's language.)
How they met
First date
Proposal
Wedding
Learning you'll be parents
Having/raising kids
Parting ways with your full-grown child
Dying together
S/O reacting to the death of the reader
Marriage life
Getting a unique pet
S/O helping reader through dealing with their phobias
I know I have a mountain of requests to do, but I need more for the summer. This semester is making me feel like im dyingggg, so small little requests can be great for writers' block and my sanity lolll
Its so weird seeing fanfic nowadays with AI in it... like... hey guys yk we can tell when you use it 😭 then when you get called out for it, ppl are like "ur just hatin"
"its wasn't __. not ___. It was ___." Yeah, writing like that is common, but not every fucking paragraph. Thats what AI does.
"His jaw tightened" everytime AI has to describe someone being tense, in every paragraph including them being tense. "His jaw tightened as she finished. Her eyes gazed up at him, making his jaw tightened even more"
And dont get me STARTED on these "—". Yes, I've always used them. Yes, its proper English grammar, and probably part of other languages too. But ykw else it is? USED EVERY SENTENCE BY AIII
Which sucks bc my earlier, pre-AI age fanfics used them a lot (yall can fact check that too lol). I love em-dashes. Nowadays, I have to replace them with commas in college essays so im not flagged for AI.
So, what are some clear signs of AI use in fanfic? Constant "—" is a beige flag, especially if its always the longest one and it connects the words: "he did it—he actually...." for example. "-" and "–" are pretty much unused by AI I think. People constantly having the tightest fucking jaws in existence are also a red flag, especially when its CONSTANTLY SAID. Lastly, AI constantly uses "its not this, its this" format.
Keep on mind, ChatGPT, and probably other AI, does copy off how people write. So yes, some authors naturally write using these things a lot. I PERSONALLY didn't see it that often back then, so whenever I see a sudden flow of fanfics using these writing styles combined with a weak plot, its easy to write it off as AI.
Please everybody, even those who only use AI to help make paragraphs sound a little "better", let's stick to our roots. The best authors of fanfic and actual books never used AI ❤️
No fr lets say when we die, our heaven is being the god of our own world. Yk what id be doing?
Me, as my oc. Center of attention. All the fictional men I crush on in separate dimensions. Somehow not considered a hoe. They're put in dif dimensions so they dont know im a hoe, anyway
Whenever I feel like it, I go to one of them, and basically become the Y/N in these x reader fics. Oh im tired of Michael beating me? Ok well I want jeff the killer to now. Aww I kinda miss Aizawa protecting me. Masky I love you! Shang Tsung please dont steal my soul 😏
Can you do the MK imagines of Tomas Vrbada x Muscular !Fem Reader?
Imagine Tomas sees his girlfriend flexing her big, toned, strong, buff, and thick muscular-physique. This make him blushing red
Hello!! Sorry for the longggg wait, I've been very busy. I lost my writing spirit for a while, and was sort of "stock piling" requests for whenever I was ready to start writing again. So, here we are!
The request is really cute and unique!! Tbh, my fanfics tend to have a sort of "damsel in distress" feel to it, so this was kind of interesting to write.
Smoke/Tomas Vrbada x Muscular! Reader
Smoke of the Lin Kuai.
An Enenra- a creature of smoke and vapor.
A deadly assassin.
Yet, even a notorious and skilled fighter such as himself was no match for her...
His fiance.
(Lol the description made me think of Sakura)
He loved her dearly, and the two were a match made in heaven. Y/N matched him in every way, from her skilled assassin abilities, to her humor, and to her physique.
Of course, the Lin Kuei were only the most skilled of fighters, so she needed to maintain her body constantly. Which was no hard task, of course, considering her body was naturally fit to handle muscle.
While she still had her feminine curves and attributes, Y/N had a particular body type that Smoke adored.
And he wasn't afraid to hide it
Y/N stood there in her room, arms flexed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her muscles were akin to Greek Gods- properly built and bulky, yet adorable in its own way.
Smoke gulped as he leaned against the doorway, eyes locked onto her arm muscles. His face felt warm- partly from feeling it was wrong to admire too closely before they are married, and partly from the desires that entered his mind.
"Tomas, baby," her voice rang like music, "you think they'll let me train with the men now? Clearly, I'm a bit stronger than last year."
Her pretty eyes turned to him- and he quickly turned away, hiding his face in the process.
"I am unsure, dear. I can ask the Grand Master."
Y/N smirked, resting her arms on her hips and walking over to her fiance. "I bet if I can beat you, he'd let me. But, no smoke this time!"
Smoke was thankful for his mask, and he released a shuttered sigh from between his lips. "In a fair combat, you'd have to best these," Smoke raised his arm, flexing his own muscles- pretty veins and scars visible.
If gymrat-sexual was a thing, it could be these guys.
Y/N giggled, flexing her own arm again. "Yeah, well I'm not far behind. Size doesn't matter, anyway."
"Hmm, I hope I don't hear those words after we marry," Smoke mumbled jokingly, his eyes glancing at her abs before looking her in the face.
Y/N rolled her eyes, a small giggle escaping her lips. She leaned forward and pressed her lips on the part of his mask where his lips would be- pulling away gently.
"Well, the sooner, the better. Let them see I can defeat you!"
