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vividescapist · 2 years

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Might as well throw myself further into The Scars I Live With @thescarsilivewith-if and toss my MC Information into a single, contained post.

Here is my main simp Monarch, Zaire. (picrew)

General information:

He is 1.68m/5′5ft tall on more on the slender side after his captivity. He used to have more muscle mass but that mostly disappeared due to neglect and malnutrition. Struggles with large portions these days so he’s found it difficult to gain weight and muscle mass again.

Aged 28 at the beginning of the game/after his captivity, he used to be a genuinely good and kind person who was more on the shy and cautious side. He used to have grand ambitions of peace and tranquility for the nation he ruled over and in that way, he was naive and didn’t see any betrayal coming at all.

Treated Naja with much care upon their engagement and eventual marriage and tried to accomodate their needs to the best of his abilities, squeezing in lessons so he could at least do some basic communication via sign language.

Initially, upon being rescued by Naja, he is all but mute and extremely cautious, often wondering if his rescue is a dream. Very jumpy and needs coaxing to let people into his defenses (though Naja has a much easier time than anyone else.) As he gets more and more settled into his role once more, he grows less cautious and silent and far more blunt. Listening to honeyed words and trying to accomodate everyone and their nonsensical wishes didn’t work last time and the nobels would often argue their case to a point where Zaire promised to consider it just to get some peace. These days, they will get shut down by a blunt ‘No.’

Despite the hurt inflicted upon him in the last four years, Zaire hasn’t lost his compassion, however, especially in regards to the harem and his spouses. He will always find time to listen to his siblings and his mother’s consorts, trying to make them feel secure and comfortable in the home which has always been shared between them. Sahyra especially will be able to knock on Zaire’s door at all hours of the day as they’ve both shared the burdens and pressures of the crown.

As for the ROs... Poly route go. Zaire was perfectly happy to just have Naja as his spouse (his dumb heart did funny flip flops when they arrived for the wedding and he cherished every moment between them) but then Valaahr shows up, assured and confident and smooth. Their words make Zaire relax, get rid of the lingering trembling and aches and ghosts living in his heart that not even Naja’s sweet touches could banish fully. Val’s simple faith is a soothing balm upon his hurting soul. Though his favorite activity is probably watching Naja and Valaahr grow closer. They’re playing chess? Zaire is going to watch from a distance as to not disturb them. Reading books together? Don’t mind Zaire, he’ll make sure a servant will drop by with some tea. He catches wind of his spouses looking for a particular item? It’s going to be on their desks asap. His cute spouses are relaxing together in the gardens, holding hands? Zaire is gonna lean against the doorframe with the most smitten look upon his face and let that image give him the strength to carry on with his duties.

And when Kaela joins the harem and he gets to witness the love grow between all of his spouses? Even better. He now has three people to make soulful eyes at and spoil the hell out of. That’s an absolute win.

(He is going to flounder so hard when they notice his presence and draw him into their circle because he feels like he is intruding. You don’t enter a museum and just touch the artwork, right? Genuinely struggles with the concept of being loved after all the betrayal he’s lived through and half expects his spouses to leave him at the drop of a hat. Wouldn’t even blame them if they did. Kind of views himself as an outsider to his own marriages early on, which causes some friction, I imagine, as he tries to drown his spouses in adoration and spoiling them with gifts while also keeping them at arm’s length.

Once he’s comfortable to share his spouses’ beds, he finds it easier when someone tells him what to do, sexually and sensually, whether that is by taking someone or being taken aka he prefers to sub but it’s not a must. If he’s not looking for sex at the time, kissing the thoughts out of his head followed by a long cuddle session will also make him a happy camper.)

#the scars i live with #the scars i live with if #tsilw #mc talk #the monarch

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thescarsilivewith-if · 11 months

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Naja simps Monarchs with Naja:

Naja simps Monarchs with anyone else:

Naja simps on their way to make a vindicative Monarch soft only for very few, maybe just for Naja

#vividescapist #tsilw memes #ro: naja

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shibieswrites · 1 year

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Naja and Nephele

Naja rot hours

@thescarsilivewith-if

#naja #tsilw fanwork

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generalpuppeh · 1 year

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Naja Post - Continuation

Aight. In the name of Naja worshippers, I shall help spread the goodness of @thescarsilivewith-if with my small blog and tagz.

Hi >.<

Here's the last Naja post (maybe. Who knows) as a continuation of this ask.

It... kinda did turn out rather explicit due to kissing (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) that aside, can't wait to write another Kaela post for later!

Warning: Excessive kissing. NSFW...ish

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

The Monarch readily engulfs Naja in a slow, deep kiss the second their spouse gives consent. Their hand, entwining Naja’s hair to pull them closer, painfully craving to lock them right there, leaving no room to escape from the scorching air between them.

The Monarch chuckles as they dart around Naja’s tongue, pulling back with every fleeting touch, only to return with a fierce hunger for more. Their passion spiraling in a delicious combination of pleasure and pain between nibbles and tender kisses.

Finally, the sweet treat that has been binding their tongues together melts under the warming gasps.

A deep growl escapes the Monarch's throat, their eyes dark as the honeyed essence drips from their stained lips.

Their hands gently lay Naja onto the sofa bed like a delicate treasure. Yet their tongue, fierce and impatient, obsessively lap and devour the tantalizing dessert like fine wine from every inch of Naja's mouth, leaving no corners untouched with unwavering reverence.

Soft gasps and rustling clothes fill the air, the outside world a blur as desire almost engulfs reason.

The Monarch’s hand crawls deep beneath Naja’s clothes, fingertips tracing the soft, damp skin of the stomach, as their lips brush against Naja’s earlobe and kiss it softly.

“No one will disturb us,” The Monarch murmurs, “But I want you to tell me if you’re comfortable going further or not.”

“I want you to feel safe.”

#thescarsilivewith-if #...does this still count as an ask or a fan work #Naja worshippers!#here's my offering #excessive kiss Monarch X Naja #fanwork-thescarsilivewith #writing #tsilw fanwork

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vividescapist · 2 years

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Second Monarch

I have no self control so I present to you: Ashyereh the (almost) Mad Monarch

Below the cut, you’ll find some general information about their personality and tidbits. Their story comes with a trigger warning (rape, loss of bodily autonomy, forced prostitution, threats/discussion of forced impregnation) which I will warn for again before we get to that part. The information above that will be free of the previously mentioned triggering content. In general though, keep in mind that Ashyereh is not a kind and sweet Monarch. They are heavily traumatized by what happened and their behavior reflects that.

The discussions of these topics is also why I will not be tagging the blog directly but if you do not know the premise and are curious to learn more, the blog for this Interactive Fiction is @/thescarsilivewith-if, just remove the /.

- AFAB Nonbinary, they/them pronouns. Had top surgery.

- Undecided between full poly or Naja/Kaela route.

- Used to be called Yereh by the siblings closer to them in age and Yeye by the younger ones.

- Their Father used to affectinately call them ‘little ashtree’ or ‘sapling’. This used to make Ashyereh pout but they secretly loved it.

- An avid reader.

- Married Naja out of a sense of obligation and was too busy to spend much time with them early on. A few weeks into their marriage, Ashyereh began to seek Naja out in an attempt to build a foundation of mutual trust and respect. There may have been the first flutterings of feelings when the coup to overthrow Ashyereh began and things went to hell.

- They used to be more expressive with their face giving most of not all of their emotions away, and had 0 control over it, especially with their family. To their siblings and the consort Ashyereh was an open book. Out in public, they learned to restrain themself and they were often praised for their poise and grace as well as their serenity.

- Post-slavery, there is very little which shows on their face. Naja coming to save them? Only a nod of acknowledgement. Ordering Dehjyr’s public execution? Not even a twitch. Having Sahyra placed under house arrest after having to watch his father’s execution? Naja throwing Ashyereh worried glances? Valaahr growing more and more cautious? The servants and employees growing fearful? Rumors about their cruelty? Actually making heartless decisions which will end up making people suffer? Nothing. They don’t even seem to have a conscience anymore, no warmth in their heart, no care. No emotions.

- Which they would confirm, whatever they feel is hidden behind a thick fog. Occasionally, some anger slips through or they experience a muted spark of satisfaction. But it’s always fleeting, always weak, it slips through their fingers like sand.

- Unless they are around the ROs. Then there is this weird… spark of elation. Of joy. It’s still muffled but it rings so clear, passes through the fog. And it is oh so addicting. So addicting, in fact, that Ashyereh wants to hide the ROs away. Wants to see them protected and only for the Monarch’s eyes. Whatever emotions Ashyereh might have felt, they were snuffed out by what they experienced as a slave. (And they lived through some of humanity's worst depravities. And that’s what they took away from it all: The strong survive. Hurt others before they can hurt you and you control the game. Divest them of their dignity and you hold all the strings. Fear is your greatest ally. No one will ever hurt you again. You needn’t feel anything.)

But being able to feel something, anything at all? It’s intoxicating. Exhilarating. They would do anything to keep this.

For the ROs, they would bring other countries to their knees. To see them fed, Ashyereh would see others starve. To have them dressed in the finest clothes, to have them turn to Ashyereh and smile at them? They would set the world on fire. Morals are for philosophers.

- At which point, I assume, the ROs would stage the intervention. One last ditch effort to make Ashyereh see reason. To get to the root of it all, to try and see if there is a festering wound in need of care and attention. Or if all is lost.

It wouldn’t be. On the precipice of no return, yes. Impossible to piece back together the way it was before? Yes.

But still salvageable.

This is where the potentially triggering content begins. Please be mindful of this.

- Sold as pleasure slave and was regularly beaten and raped by their owner until they stopped resisting. Sometimes, the owner would rent Ashyereh out to business partners if it meant securing contracts or deals. And if the business partners wanted to drug Ashyereh or try some not so safe sex practises on top of that? As long as Ashyereh was returned in one piece and without permanent marks, it was fine. The owner didn’t particularly care about keeping things confined to the bedroom so Ashyereh was expected to serve anywhere and anytime. It really was not uncommon for servants and other slaves to stumble upon the owner raping Ashyereh in a hallway.

- Their owner strictly controlled their appearance, especially their weight. This meant both starvation and overfeeding to make Ashyereh’s body adjust to whatever their owner preferred at the moment. As a result, their body weight fluctuated by the month and Ashyereh’s current relationship with food is strained. Rather than overindulging, they prefer to eat less but also get highly aggressive when someone tries to take their plate from them.

- The stress and the fluctuating weight prevented Ashyereh’s period, which was both a blessing and a curse as their owner started renting them out to whoever was willing to pay the most, offering to have Ashyereh potentially bear them a child with magical powers (and the mark of the heir) aka grant them the opportunity to gain much influence over a kingdom. When, eventually, Ashyereh’s period kicked in again, the owner stopped renting them out and tried to impregnate Ashyereh themself but it never took and about two months after the period began again, Naja arrives with the rescue team.

#TSILW #tsilw-if #tsilw monarch #tw: abuse #tw: rape #tw: discussion of forced pregnancy #tw: loss of physical autonomy #tw: forced prostitution

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thescarsilivewith-if · 1 year

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:')

Damn right

#yes memes!#the monarch deserves happiness #tsilw memes #vividescapist #(hii <3 love you!)

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thescarsilivewith-if · 1 year

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Would love to write more Naja stuff but still working out how to keep things not too explicit.

For now, hope you have fun with my Monarch's take on Kaela. It's quite challenging since I'm not well acquainted with them and more of a Naja supporter~~

—----------------------------------------------

The Monarch twirls a wooden pen between their fingertips while a small, delicious treat rests on the other hand. Their eyes wander across the ridiculously, large table, watching Kaela sift through the documents. Warm light streams through the glass windows, underlining Kaela’s soft curvature, wrapped in colored robes and the ever-present gloves that adorn their hands.

Serious, quiet.

While the Monarch has yet to catch a glimpse of Kaela’s eyes, they could imagine the politician’s sharp gaze scrutinizing every line, every number, every word on the sheet with the same scrutiny reserved for their interlocutors. Not letting the slightest, potentially detrimental detail slip through while carrying themselves with unwavering grace.

Still, the Monarch couldn’t help but wonder if Kaela has ever glanced their way since entering this room. Let alone notice the past stolen glances the Monarch has been casting in their direction since they first met.

The Monarch did offer to help with work, claiming the need to relearn their responsibilities after years of enslavement. But they didn’t spent hours carefully choosing this outfit- fit enough to accentuate their physique, modest yet exuding allure- only to burn the midnight oil (or rather, afternoon light) without grabbing a sliver of Kaela’s ironclad attention.

It feels almost childish, beneath their station. They’re the Monarch. The yarls and nobles alike view for their favor.

But with Kaela, it feels natural for the Monarch to cater to the politician, one way or another.

With a plan brewing in their mind, the Monarch nonchalantly loosens their robe, letting it slide down their shoulder to show more skin. Slowly, they tilt forward, eyes pointedly engrossed on their own paper, scribbling on the paper as needed, as they take the time brush the sweet treat on their red lips before taking it for themselves.

Hopefully, they can finally catch something from Kaela- a body language, a sound, a response different from their usual mask of professionalism.

First of all, that was adorable of the Monarch. So needy... cute. Kaela is very professional, but sometimes it helps that their veil can hide their expression...

I think the Monarch is truly pushing it with the skin and making use of those lips

#kaela is professional but perhaps a small glance...#fanfiction #tsilw fanwork #kaela #loved it anon💗#also feel free to send in naja content!

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thescarsilivewith-if · 1 year

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Based off of an ask you received a while back about a fan story, I created a very short lyrical poetry describing the birth of twin princes in the kingdom of Sakhaav

"Birthing Storms"

Amidst the lightning's frenzied dance, A consort lay writhing in her trance, As winds howled through the tower's halls, And raindrops drummed on window walls.

From womb to world, the princes came, Like lightning bolts, they split the same, As thunder shook the earth and sky, And storm clouds rumbled, passing by.

I adore this. It's so evocative, so visceral. It gives me the shivers just thinking about it

#love it.❤#poetry #tsilw fanwork #i am so intrugued by this au

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thescarsilivewith-if · 1 year

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I originally meant to write a fic Naja’s and Zaire’s first night together but I got kind of stuck so I hope my somewhat incoherent and inconsistent outline will do instead. I’ll probably jump tenses a lot coughs. As always, the scenes were a lot sweeter in my head and it’s extremely unpolished. I hope you’ll still enjoy this.

Let’s set the scene. The day filled with celebration, one of many, is finally over and it’s time for Naja and Zaire to commit to the marriage in a more physical sense. It was draining for both of them, full of nerves and they didn’t manage to share more than two brief interactions together before someone interrupted them. Throughout the day, Naja had watched as Zaire has been dragged back and forth, from one group to the next, has watched him smile and converse, sometimes hesitate and grow more cautious. Has watched him pause and consider, his face an open book. Not exactly a good trait for a ruler to have, they think, but they find themself oddly charmed in spite of that. All their life, Naja has experienced blunt, callous honesty. People sneer and call them stupid, call them a pretty face hiding an empty head. The only thing Naja needs to know is how to keep their mouth shut and their legs spread for this marriage to work out, according to those very same people.

There was always an ulterior motive. Always something people tried to gain by using Naja in whichever way they pleased.

It has made them wary and the first time they met Zaire, they searched his face for any hidden intentions. He’d been smiling back then, eyes crinkling slightly. His shoulders had been tense, straining slightly beneath the dark cloth covering them. His hand, when he had gripped Naja’s fingers and brought them to his lips in a very chaste and formal kiss, had been clammy. But what Naja truly remembers from that moment is this: Zaire looking at them from beneath his lashes, concern and warmth in his gaze. A quiet care Naja hadn’t seen in anyone in… They don’t think anyone has looked at them like that in years.

If Zaire was concealing an agenda, poorly, it consisted of wanting Naja to feel welcome.

Which in itself was a novelty and Naja spent some hours examining this from all angles, trying to find loopholes, trying to find reasons. Zaire must want something, too.

If the way he’d quietly lit up, his entire expression brightening, when Naja smiled at him, was anything to go by, it was that he truly wanted Naja to feel comfortable and accepted.

An odd realization.

And it makes their heart flutter, a weirdly heated experience.

Was this what it was like to be wanted? They didn’t want to let their guard down, they couldn’t, they had to learn about their new reality first and yet…

Knowing they’d spend the night with Zaire fills them with prickly anticipation.

Fast forward a little, to them being alone together for the first time, period. All servants have gone after helping the couple undress, incense and candles have been lit and the bedding checked one last time.

And Zaire runs his hand over the long hair spilling over his shoulders, finally free from the braid, sighs and turns to Naja. There’s grim determination on his face, or is it resignation? In the darkness of the room, it’s difficult for Naja to discern. He’s enunciating carefully and his hands are moving along with his words, signing, and it would make Naja smile if not for the words coming out of his mouth: “I do not wish to sleep with you.”

Ice drops like a brick in Naja’s stomach and they freeze and questions begin to swirl. Why? Why does Zaire not want to sleep with them? Are they unappealing, unattractive? Did they do something? Did they offend someone important? Does Zaire think that he married a dimwitted fool after all?

Is this where the other shoe drops?

Is this where Zaire comes to the realization and finds Naja lacking, inadequate? Is this where the fairytale sweetness ends?

Naja’s hands shake as they grip one another, clench and unclench before they are able to still them.

Zaire is watching Naja, golden eyes searching them for who knows what. His gaze falls to their hands and his expression drops. He swallows thickly, lips parting as his eyes dart to the left, then to the right, before he reaches out.

“May I?”

May he what, Naja thinks with some exhausted acceptance. Begin to treat Naja like a pretty doll to be placed on a shelf? They don’t respond, just tilt their head like they’ve done so many times and blink at their husband.

Zaire waits a little longer before his hands fall to his sides. He seems frustrated and he sits down heavily on the bed. Their bed. Their marriage bed.

“I think I’m going about this all wrong,” he whispers and drags a hand over his face. Suddenly, he seems as exhausted and lost as Naja feels. The elaborate golden mask Zaire's worn through most of the day had hidden it before and the flickering shadows cast by the candles don’t seem to be helping matters because there are deep, dark circles under Zaire’s eyes.

Here they are, two lost fools.

“I’m sorry. I think I’ve offended you and I didn’t mean to. I’ve thought about how to break this to you all day but I couldn’t come up with a less straightforward but kinder way to say it to you. I think you are very, very beautiful and I consider myself lucky to call myself your spouse.”

Whiplash. Zaire is giving Naja whiplash. He doesn’t want to sleep with them and yet here he is, complimenting them and– Is he… blushing? He is. His tone is exhausted and his shoulders are drooping and his face is red. He’s trying to meet Naja’s eyes but is failing.

“But we don’t know each other very well. I think you were strong-armed into this marriage and I don’t want to do anything either of us is uncomfortable with.” There’s a pause before Zaire’s gaze finally meets Naja’s. What they find there is warmth, openness and vulnerability. A sweet consideration.

And they come to the unsettling realization that the nobles have been attempting to eat this softhearted man ever since the crown was placed on his head and a scepter pressed into his hand.

“Our circumstances aren’t ideal. Before anything happens between us, I’d like for us to get to know each other. I’d like to show you who you’ve married. What kind of person I am. And I’d like to learn more about you, too. About what you like and dislike. About how I can help you make a home here, in the palace. And then I’d like for us to decide together what our future is going to look like. I…”

Zaire flounders before reaching out again and holding his hands out to Naja. Patient. Kind. Nervous. His fingertips are trembling. His eyes are wide and he's breathing a little bit too fast.

“I know it’s a selfish request. And I am truly, deeply sorry. But please. Please, can you tell me what you want?”

And Naja–

Naja reaches out and takes his hands.

This... this was insanely good. Naja's just perfect and Zaire is a gift to this world. That "I do not wish to sleep with you" was my absolute favourite moment.

This is exactly what I meant when I said that Naja doesn't have boundaries. When overwhelmed, they won't ever express their discomfort, preferences or hurt. But with a nurturing Monarch, this is what could happen.

#vividescapist #copied it for future reads #when I need naja and zaire fluff #ahh thank you for sending this in #i obviously always love content related to the game #if anyone else wants to join feel free to do so even with a scenario #ro: naja #fanfiction #tsilw fanwork

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