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astonmartinii · 4 months

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careful what you wish for | alex albon social media au

pairing: alex albon x fem norris!reader

be careful what you wish for because sometimes childhood dreams come true (not the way you think though)

MASTERLIST | BROTHER'S BFF MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 453,096 others

yourusername: it's sweet treat hour in the paddock

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user1: oh to be a person in the f1 paddock getting a sweet treat

user2: ummm actually i think i deserve one more than any of the guys on the grid

yourusername: probably true lol

georgerussell63: BLASPHEMY

landonorris: blood is CLEARLY not thicker than water 🤨

maxverstappen1: i can't believe this betrayal

charles_leclerc: puppy play date is OFF

yourusername: not you people proving them right within 0.5 seconds.

user3: y/n really is god's strongest soldier these fools must be so annoying

alexalbon: not me tho

landonorris: nuh uh 😐

alexalbon: sorry to burst your bubble lando but on the scale of least annoying (me) to most annoying (carlos) ... well marketing love carlando for a reason

landonorris: Y/N TELL HIM TO STOP BEING MEAN TO ME

yourusername: i'm not your mum, defend yourself

landonorris: ???

carlossainz55: THERE IS NO WAY I'M THE MOST ANNOYING ON THE GRID? Y/N TELL HIM THAT

yourusername: keep your car away from oscar and maybe

oscarpiastri: thank you grid mum 🫶🏻

carlossainz55: grid mum clearly showing favourites 🤨 does my sleepovers at the norris household mean anything?

yourusername: your old ass does not need a grid mum be fucking for real

carlossainz55: GASP!

alexalbon: nevermind what ever the fuck that was... the sweet treats slapped, thank you very much

yourusername: see this is why you're my favourite

oscarpiastri: i am right here

logansargent: :(((((

yourusername: NOOO MY LITTLE DUCKLINGS I LOVE YOU

user4: the way y/n has taken to oscar and logan makes my heart so warm

user5: her missing a lot of the start of the 2023 season and logan saying he started to feel less lonely when she was back coming to races as she went out of her way to support him

user6: her and alex going to miami a week early and acting more like parents than logan's actual parents

user7: it's like the older drivers are her grid kids but she only goes full mama bear for oscar and logan

user8: i'm gonna need this friends to lovers arc for alex and y/n

landonorris: do you people ever shut up

yourusername: LANDO ???

landonorris: sorry you have to die single sorry i don't make the rules

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 1,405,788 others

tagged: alexalbon, landonorris & georgerussell63

f1: ALBON P5!!! now that's why lando had a poster of him in his childhood bedroom

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user9: i know lando forever regrets bringing that up all those years ago

user10: since we know how close alex and y/n are... i'd bet a lot of money y/n brings it up at any opportunity

yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

alexalbon: always knew you were my biggest fan

yourusername: it must be a norris thing

landonorris: alex the literal f1 account is making fun of me and you're SAYING SHE IS YOUR BIGGEST FAN

alexalbon: okay buddy lets calm it down

landonorris: don't put me in time out you're not my grid dad

alexalbon: am i not?

this comment has been deleted

alexalbon: i wouldn't claim you dummy

landonorris: i saw that ............. interesting

user11: the way this is the biggest hint for y/n x alex we've ever gotten but lando is not putting 2 and 2 together

yourusername: i've never had to try to keep a secret from lando i've always had to spell it out for him we're safe

landonorris: who is we?

user11: i see what you mean

georgerussell63: good lord, will i ever get out of the alex DRS train?

alexalbon: NEVER MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA

georgerussell63: have you already started drinking?

alexalbon: maybe, you know y/n can't mix drinks for shit

yourusername: P5 in a williams calls for a throwback college tequila punch

maxverstappen1: college tequila punch without me THE FAVOURITISM HAS GOTTEN OUT OF HAND

yourusername: you AND I QUOTE said "never talk to me again, i don't want to see you with any kind of receptacle that a person could drink out of, i never want to see a bottle of tequila ever again i feel like this is a hangover that will be passed on as some kind of generational curse"

maxverstappen1: now you say that i do recall saying something similar

user12: the way oscar and logan were so happy for alex, that's a grid dad for real

logansargent: we knew all of our drinks would been on his tab 🤞🏻

oscarpiastri: and he brought our kebabs!!

user13: how do i get this kind of treatment on my nights out?

logansargent: you have to third wheel alex and y/n when they're insufferably cute 👍🏻

this comment was deleted

user14: i'm on to yall

alexalbon

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tagged: yourusername, logansargent & oscarpiastri

alexalbon: post night out munch with my favourites

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user15: oh i can smell the arguments coming

yourusername: no one die i'm putting my phone on do not disturb

user16: so real

georgerussell63: HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT THE SANCTITY OF OUR FRIENDSHIPS I THOUGHT WE WERE PLATONIC SOULMATES OUR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER SEWN INTO THE VERY FABRIC OF OUR BEING

alexalbon: well damn

georgerussell63: well damn? WELL DAMN? THAT'S IT YOU ARE NOT INVITED ON MY ANNUAL EASTER SUNDAY WALK AND BOUTIQUE EASTER EGG HUNT

landonorris: wow that'll really show him george

georgerussell63: LANDO WHAT THE FUCK WE NEED A UNITED FRONT

yourusername: babe this isn't trench warfare

georgerussell63: i thought you weren't getting involved this is a GALEX DISCUSSION

charles_leclerc: i thought this was a twitch quartet dicussion?

georgerussell63: maybe if you people MADE YOURSELF USEFUL IT WOULD BE

charles_leclerc: you know what i don't like your tone. i am very secure in my friendship with alex and am happy he has other thriving friendships especially with those who have recently joined the team and need the extra comfort

alexalbon: finally a normal person

user17: what is happening

user18: i think this is what the kids call losing your shit

user19: kinda feels like it's ended prematurely

alexalbon: he's at my door

user20: oh? should we like maybe be afraid?

yourusername: WHY AM I LIVING IN THE SHINING RIGHT NOW DOES HE HAVE AN AXE?

landonorris: hold on .... why are you there?

yourusername: george russell is at the door screaming for justice potentially wielding a weapon and that's what you took from that?

landonorris: ummm yes? there's something weird going on here

oscarpiastri: i'm also here

logansargent: me too (PLEASE SEND HELP)

user21: well wasn't that just ... delightful

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 903,788 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & yourusername

landonorris: this whole grid kid thins has gotten out of control why is this kid being treated better than ME in my OWN HOME

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user24: how could lando be angry look how pookie oscar is

oscarpiastri: this is what i'm sayingggggg

yourusername: so fuck me i guess

user24: babe that's alex's job

yourusername: you right

user25: HOLD ON PEOPLE IS THAT Y/N/ALEX CRUMBS ???

user26: quick add it to the spreadsheet

alexalbon: there's a spreadsheet?

user26: we don't fuck around about your hypothetical relationship with y/n

alexalbon: that much is clear (send it my way asap)

yourusername: talking about favouritism in the norris household as if i have not lived with this for MY ENTIRE LIFE

landonorris: booooooo let me complain (did you or did you not get your weird kids from my career favouritism in the family)

yourusername: don't weaponise my children against me

landonorris: but they're so annoying oscar is eating all of the ROAST POTATOES THIS IS THE NORRIS FAMILY DINNER EVERYONE KNOWS THE ROASTIES ARE MINE

oscarpiastri: not anymore :P

landonorris: choke

oscarpiastri: don't make me call my dad

landonorris: call him up i'll beat his ass at this point I CAN SEE YOU TAKING ANOTHER POTATO

oscarpiastri: @alexalbon :(

alexalbon: keep my kid's name out your fucking mouth

landonorris: excuse me?

yourusername: ugh that's so hot

landonorris: EXCUSE ME?

user27: well .... add it to the spreadsheet?

landonorris: i'm so close to blocking all of you

yourusername: i thought you loved alex :(

landonorris: not that much

alexalbon: i see....

landonorris: NO I'M SORRY I TAKE IT BACK I LOVE YOU ALEX (YOU BETTER NOT BE SHAGGING MY SISTER HYPOTHETICAL OR NOT)

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 528,095 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: silverstone babyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i hope my home treats my boys right

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user28: i would give a kidney to be there for real

user29: you might have to the prices at that race are INSANE

landonorris: finally the home race which means you actually have to root for me

yourusername: ehhhhhhh

landonorris: girl i did not get much sleep last night wtf do you mean EHHHHH

yourusername: alex is a london boy

georgerussell63: once again fuck george i guess

yourusername: you didn't give me time !!!!

georgerussell63: were you actually going to say it?

yourusername: no ❤️

landonorris: right george i think it's time to unionise against y/n and alex

yourusername: the fuck do you (do we?) know about unionisation babe our family are the capitalist machine

user30: so like when are we getting the full albon pets meetup with sausage?

alexalbon: you always treat me right

yourusername: only the bestest for you

alexalbon: oh wow i'm blushing

yourusername: i can make you do a lot more than that

landonorris: do you mind?

yourusername: LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE GOD I CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING

alexalbon: yeah let y/n flirt with me in peace

logansargent: he's giggling and swinging his feet - we might even get a skip away

alexalbon: sue me

user31: alex and y/n being so tired of lando is so true

oscarpiastri: they match each other's freak and they really need to let that freak flag fly

logansargent: as they should i need to post some of the cute pictures of them my phone storage is suffering

landonorris: i'm throwing my phone out of the window

user32: confirmation? CONFIRMATION?

alexalbon

liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 1,359,086 others

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alexalbon: bro my nurse is hot as fuck

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user32: bro nearly died and THIS IS WHAT HE POSTS

user33: is it insensitive for me to celebrate that they're together on a post just hours after he was in a massive crash

yourusername: probably but we'll take the compliment regardless

georgerussell63: let it be known i'm annoyed that this is how i found out about this relationship but i'm so glad you're okay and that you had your person with you as support

alexalbon: my person awwwww georgie you're such as softie, but thank you i'm all good

yourusername: i knew you loved me really georgie

georgerussell63: i'll come round to this i guess

yourusername: so no more morning visits with weapons

georgerussell63: THERE WERE NO WEAPONS

alexalbon: you called me many mean words and sometimes words are our biggest weapons

georgerussell63: shut the fuck up

yourusername: that's not very peace, love and kindness he nearly died russell change up your tone

user34: YESSSSSSSSS WE CAN FINALLY SEE THE TRUE POWER OF THE ALEX/Y/N SASS

user34: also obviously very happy alex is okay

user35: i fear we as a fandom do not have our priorities in check

landonorris: i wouldn't leave the hospital if i were you

alexalbon: is that a threat?

landonorris: very much so

maxverstappen1: he's serious i'm literally holding him back (it's not hard he's like a gremlin)

landonorris: A GREMLIN WHO HAS BEEN GIVEN WATER

yourusername: but i thought you loved alex? surely this is the least offensive option on the grid?

alexalbon: awwwwww babe

maxverstappen1: i'm really not sure thats the compliment you think...

landonorris: NO I DO LOVE ALEX BUT NOT LIKE THIS

yourusername: it could be worse, you're besties with alex - i could've gotten with carlos or pierre!

carlossainz55: excuse me?

pierregasly: what did i ever do to you?

yourusername: whores ❤️

landonorris: true they are whores

alexalbon: and i'm a big ol family man

landonorris: you keep that to yourself

oscarpiastri: get well soon dad

logansargent: we love you !!!

yourusername: don't think we've forgotten about you exposing our relationship....

alexalbon: but we love you anyway

yourusername

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tagged: alexalbon

yourusername: f1 cars are too dangerous actuallyyyyyyyyyyy you're all BANNED

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user36: finally some good fucking food

user37: i feel like we've been waiting for this relationship for so long i expect a wedding invitation at this point

alexalbon: yeah soz only the girl with the spreadsheet is getting an invite

user26: SCORE

alexalbon: well aren't we just the cutest couple in the world

yourusername: i fear we are

yourusername: and if any of you hoes try and comment any dumb shit like "us erasure" i'll break your toes

georgerussell63: oh! okay...

maxverstappen1: sure i guess so...

charles_leclerc: i'll let you have your moment for now

landonorris: i'm single but i want to be involved

user38: the lipstick print... i'm weak

user39: they already made me feel lonely before we got confirmation i think i might need to redownload hinge

landonorris: ugh i guess you guys are kind of cute

yourusername: of course we are one of us is a norris

landonorris: TRUE 💅🏻

alexalbon: ??? so you don't want to kill me anymore?

landonorris: no i guess not

landonorris: also max put a bell on my chain and my fingers are too fat to open the clasp so i can't sneak out to kick your ass

maxverstappen1: he really is an overgrown toddler

alexalbon: also your 5'2 ass is not beating mine

landonorris: i am NOT 5'2 i am 5'10 at the least

yourusername: girl you're maybe 5'5 and i WILL be getting my lick in if you fight alex - revenge for all those hair pulls all those years ago

landonorris: i'd say stop defending alex but you've always done that... i should've known

user40: so y/n really wasn't lying when she said she didn't have to hide anything from lando cause he doesn't pick up on anything 😭

landonorris: sorry i'm not actively looking for clues about my sister's sex life

alexalbon: bro i am in love with your sister lets frame this better

yourusername: hehehheheeehehhehe

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargent and 1,874,036 others

tagged: alexalbon & yourusername

landonorris: i guess i always did say that i wanted alex as a bigger brother, be careful for what you wish for kids

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user41: FINALLLLY

logansargent: you're telling me we've BEEN waiting

oscarpiastri: i kinda miss having a secret like what do i hold over lando now?

landonorris: DON'T THINK I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS YOU WILL BE DEALT WITH PIASTRI

oscapiastri: okay babe

landonorris: you really take after your mum and it scares me

yourusername: you shouldn't have such good friends that i just can't help falling in love with so really this is your fault

landonorris: sure.... but you have a good point, i'm very happy it's alex of all people

yourusername: you've really come round fast since you realised that we'll pay for your stuff whenever we go out

landonorris: what can i say stuff tastes better when it's free

alexalbon: you literally make double what y/n and i make

landonorris: and i'm the younger sibling so you should TREAT ME BETTER

user42: yeah we all knew lando was the younger sibling but he's giving massive annoying baby brother vibes

alexalbon: and he wonders why we prefer oscar and logan

landonorris: i'm just going to pretend i didn't see that

alexalbon: but for real lando, thanks for being the most annoying norris and having such a lovely and cool (and smoking hot) sister - i appreciate it!

yourusername: i love you too babe

alexalbon: don't worry you'll get to drop the last name soon

yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yourusername: i can't wait to be mrs. albon

landonorris: blocked.

user43: i can't believe we got the conclusion to the lando alex poster storyline

landonorris: it wasn't exactly the conclusion i thought it would be but i'll take it

yourusername: you love us really

alexalbon: really you were just manifesting this for like ten years

fin.

note: here's a wee post from brother's bff before the race because i need somehtign to distract me from my horrible NERVES - ENJOY!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #alex albon instagram au #alex albon x reader #alex albon imagine #alex albon fluff #alex albon

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 3 months

Text

Imagine having a spa day with Shanks

You: [trying to sneak to the spa and resort on the island without the crew noticing]

Shanks: [notices and follows in secret]

You: [makes it to the resort doors and does a happy dance because you were successful at eluding the crew ]

Shanks: so this is where you were sneaking off to.

You: eek! How long were you following me?

Shanks: since you left the Red Force. Why did you feel the need to sneak off to come here, no one would be mad at you for coming here. In fact, most of the boys would also enjoy it.

You: That's the problem, they'd want to come with.

Shanks: [cocks an eyebrow at you] and why is that a problem?

You: because they'd get too rambunctious and inevitably get me kicked out with the rest of them.

Shanks: that's not true.

You: Do you remember the resort on Flower Island? Or the Hot springs at Ash Island?? Oh, they set fire to the Butterfly Haven resort on Flutterwind Island.

Shanks: .... okay they do usually get us kicked out of places, and that fire was an accident

You: That's beside the point.

Shanks: well, what is your point?

You: if they come along, I won't be able to enjoy my spa day. All I want is one day without dealing with over a dozen loud men and getting spoiled by resort workers.

Shanks: they can't go one day without causing trouble, that's true... Fine, I won't tell them, but on one condition.

You: oh lord, what?

Shanks: I get to come with you.

You: counter condition, if the crew does find us, you send them away.

Shanks: deal

An hour later

Shanks: [a few mojitos deep and has cucumbers over his eyes] This is great, we should do this more often.

You: it won't do much good if you're drunk the entire time.

Shanks: Drunk? I haven't had a drop of liquor since last night.

You: You're literally drinking right now.

Shanks: I am?

Spa worker: [nods]

Shanks: really? I couldn't tell, I couldn't taste it at all. Y'all must use the good shit.

You: he usually drinks what's basically paint thinner.

Shanks: [mumbles] Paint thinner doesn't usually have that much water in it. [Turns to the spa worker] Can I get a pitcher of this stuff?

Spa worker: [sighs, but nods]

You: and can I get another slice of cake?

Shanks: you want more cake? [gets up and twerks at you] I've got plenty of cake for you right here, love.

You: [smacks his ass with the menu] Sit down you drunk fool.

Spa worker: would you like the strawberry shortcake or chocolate dreams cake?

You: ...[looks at shanks] both?

Shanks: [nods his head]

You: both [hands her the menu]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #red hair shanks #red hair shanks x reader #akagami no shanks x reader #shanks #shanks x reader #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #6/25/24 #no beta we die like men

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murdockparker · 6 months

Text

Roses and Regrets - Part 1

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!

A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?

next part

She was perfectly happy.

Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t.

Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one.

In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing.

No matter.

A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either.

“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.

“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season.

“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”

“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”

“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”

“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”

“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”

“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”

“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”

(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”

“My lady!”

“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”

“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”

“Dreadful.”

“It is expected,” Meg repeated.

“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”

—

Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned.

Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey.

It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.

“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out.

“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”

“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”

“You are out of mourning.”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.

“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”

“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”

“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”

“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”

“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”

“Like a drunkard?”

“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”

“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”

“I am not Lady Danbury.”

“You are not.”

“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”

“Are you insinuating you are not?”

“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.

Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”

“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”

“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled.

—

Dearest Gentle Reader,

The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be.

Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening.

His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up.

While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand.

Good show, Lady Barlow.

Lady Whistledown Society Papers

—

“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular.

“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”

“Er, yes, however—”

“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned.

“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked.

“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising.

“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”

“No.”

“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.

“Oh, according to Whistledown—”

“Sister—”

“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”

“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”

“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten.

“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked.

“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”

“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”

“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”

Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was.

Apparently he was going to the park.

It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.

“Unbelievable.”

He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.

“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”

“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”

“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”

“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”

“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”

“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”

“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”

“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.

“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”

“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”

She scowled. “You are not amusing.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”

A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell.

“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.

“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”

“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”

While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on.

Stubborn. Both of them.

“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—”

“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”

“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”

“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.

“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”

She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”

“Neither am I.”

“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.

“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”

“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”

“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."

“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”

“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”

“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”

“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”

“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”

“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang.

“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”

Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”

(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.

“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Why you little…!”

She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.

“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.

Perhaps he would burn it.

Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.

In the pocket it went. For now.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #enemies to lovers #multi-part fic #reader insert #whoops i didn't expect this request to turn into a multiple part thing but here we are #unsure of how many parts but probably no more than 4-5?#idk

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girls--complex · 5 months

Text

BOOK ov SHAME

Handbound book made of found materials, cardboard, craft paper, collage elements and such, including an amulet tied into the binding which contains 2 bones, a crystal, some stainless steel charms, a D ring, a button, etc...

This is a confession of my sins before God (SERIOUS REACTS ONLY!!!) made as an observance of my first saturn return (SATURNIAN REACTS ONLY!!!!!!!!!) and as homework for my special class!!!

I'm going to reproduce the text of the book below:.

HAVING FUN IS A MORAL IMPERATIVE

THE ONLY HOPE

with great chagrin I confess before the LORD my Maker that I have attained to the first complete revolution of Saturn since my bloody birth into this Realm laboring Harshly under the Misapprehension that Additional Karmic Merit would be imputed those who scrupulously avoided having ANY FUN

In the intensive care unit -The bullet's out. And the kid could make it. -But he's given up. He has no will to live. That's terrible!

Only to discover that in my field of study, (namely, the Making of little Pictures,) when FUN is absent in the process,

SUCK reveals itself in the product.

Sometimes the best medicine isn't medicine at all.

standing on the brink of divinity, a poignant combination of vulnerability and toughness. the tremendous potential of this revolution could be overshadowed by fear.

A BRIGHTER HALO electric and never-ending biomass morphing into a protuberance

the same is true of sex, btw

in light of this reproach i have no choice but to admit that my DERELICTION of FUN is a sin against BEAUTY...

I AM A MESSENGER FROM THE DAMNED!

THE FATHER OF LIES HAS NOT ONLY WEAPONIZED MY CONSCIENCE AGAINST THE RESPONSIBLE CULTIVATION OF A GOOD TIME BUT THE FOLLOWING UNWORTHY-OF-RUINING-THE-FUN DESIRES:

THE DESIRE FOR SOCIAL APPROVAL THE DESIRE FOR INTELLECTUAL SUPERIORITY THE DESIRE TO BE SUPERSPECIAL TO PERFECT THE CRAFT TO DO NO WRONG AND THE WILL TO AVOID PUNISHMENT!!

-I've got a new best friend. -But what about ME? Her heart is broken... by the very ones who love her.

I praise THE LORD CHRIST for having already BEGUN To demote these diminishing desires

Making Monsters HUNGRY, THIRSTY,FRANTIC Not exactly conscious of real identity: pure soul, merged with the body sometimes understanding

What is my medicine?

I HEAR BYE REPENT OF MY LAUGHABLE HUMORLESSNESS

-Hi! Can I go with you? -Check him out! That's cute. -You're wearing a great costume! -Thanks! -Back off, Stinky. This is holy ground!

DANGER

I SEE NOW THAT HAVING FUN IS A MORAL IMPERATIVE

THE FOOL! But it's your endless passion for discovery that leads you there.

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burntb4bydoll · 1 year

Note

It's my first time requesting something on here, I am CRAVING for any Tokio Hotel member with a kind/sweet/obedient reader, I usually can't find stories/headcanons with them where the reader is a sweet and obedient girl, feel free to ignore this request if you want to.

Bae this is so me fr (for the most part😇)

Tokio Hotel with a sweet and obedient gf (slightly NSFW)

Bill Kaulitz

•hes completely infatuated with you. you could do anything you wanted to him and he would let you.

•he thinks that you are an absolute angel. He loves how sweet you are, it makes him so proud to be your bf

•would NEVER let people take advantage of you or your kindness. You don’t like disappointing people by saying ‘no’ but he has absolutely no problem doing it for you

• “sweetheart, you can’t do everything people ask you to. You are too sweet for your own good sometimes I swear.”

•he means that in a endearing way dw! He wouldn’t change a single thing about you

•he tries to test your obedience tbh. He’ll tell you to do something small then slowly start telling you to do more, but you never disobey him. And he makes sure to praise you very well for it

• “oh my, what a good girl. You listen so well, angel. Im so proud of you.”

•definitely is more of a soft dom with you, he can’t imagine being mean to his sweet girl🤭

Tom Kaulitz

•oh boy…

•you two are opposites. He’ll try to get you to do and say bad/mean things just to see if youll actually do it

•your hesitant because you dont wanna be mean, but you obey him and he immediately cant help but smirk to himself

•Bill always scolds him for it tho, you can’t escape mama Bill.

“Tom, Leave her alone! Y/n don’t listen to him, hes an idiot.” 😭

•he thinks its so cute watching you interact with his family. You’re just so sweet and they all love you so much. Hes so happy that they love you just as much as he does

•HIS MOM LOVES YOU. SHE TAKES SO MANY PICTURES OF YOU AND TOM AND SHOWS THEM TO EVERYONE. SHE CALLS YOU HER DAUGHTER TOO😭💗

•not to be a whore….but CORRUPTION KINK?? HELLO???

•LOVES pet names. He calls you princess, sweetheart, my love🤭🤭

Georg Listing

•LORD he is obsessed with you omfg

•you are absolutely everything to him. You’re his precious girl who could never EVER do anything wrong in his eyes

•literally refers to you as his ‘lovely girlfriend’ to people 😭

•his heart almost explodes whenever you do anything for him. Whether that be cooking him food, drawing/coloring a picture for him, or just giving him a small compliment, he’ll always be so so appreciative of it

•HES SO SOFT WITH YOU. He kisses youholds your face so gently while stroking your cheeks with his thumbs:(((

• “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

Gustav Schäfer

•hes also such a sweetheart, but he likes to pretend like hes all mean and unapproachable😭

•like babe, you are probably the cutest person here you’re not fooling anyone.

•you two are known for being the super lovey couple. He loves to show you off and you’re just happy to be there😇

•although you’re both sweet, you’re the only obedient one in the relationship. He such a brat and LOVES to push peoples buttons just to see how far he can go before someone actually gets mad😭

•BLUSHES SO SO HARD WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT HIM

•you guys are the embodiment of a praise kink. Neither of you can go 5 minutes without being and all nice and lovey dovey to each other

•dare i say….pleasure Dom Gustav…. GUYS IK I SAY IT ALL THE TIME BUT PLS YOU KNOW ITS TRUE

• “such a good girl for me, arent you?”

“Aww, you’re so cute, my baby.” Yes. HIS baby.😇

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potatoplace · 1 month

Text

Control

Azriel x Reader

Part 2

Story Summary: On your 145th birthday, your mate Azriel has a very special day planned for you. His only requirement of you is that you give up control and follow your instincts.

Warnings: mentions of abuse and domestic violence, killing your husband, ddlg, allusions to sex, egregious usage of pet names

Words: ~7.4k (~8.9k total)

Author's Note: okay so it's finally here! I know, I know, it took me a lot longer than I'd planned to get it out, but it's also 3x the length I had thought it would be... so there's that lol. Think of this as my apology for loml + my tears ricochet, some cute sweet fluffy goodness with Az to make up for the heartbreak. Also, I'm not sure how much I like this piece, the concept was really fun it was just a bit difficult starting and getting the words to flow. I just know that I appreciate all of the pet names... I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for reading! Oh and there's a second part, since there's a text block limit on here, that will be up in a few minutes.

p.s. there may be a true second part to this, basically a smutty epilogue, if I feel like writing it later

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel had always tried and succeeded in making your birthdays special. He knew the way you were raised had ruined them for you, nothing but a count down to the day you would be sold off like cattle to a male, likely crueler than your parents.

And he had been. You had been married to a vile excuse for a fae, Marcus at the age of twenty. He beat you for every misstep you made, and in his view nearly everything you had done while together was one.

The food was never delicious enough, you weren’t beautiful enough for a male like him, you talk to other fae too often.

The final straw came when, five years into your arranged marriage, Marcus beat you half to death for not having given him an heir yet. That night, you vowed to yourself that the next day would be the last your husband drew breath.

You prepared him breakfast, even with the broken arm he had given you. Using the small packet of poisonous herbs you had bought when you were feeling brave a few months ago, you slipped some into the middle of his omelette.

And the rest was history.

You were free to live you life, though you had to put your minor healing powers to work to afford the basic necessities. But, you still had the home Marcus had owned, given that he had no living relatives, and it was enough for you.

You had lived your life for another hundred years, as peacefully as one could in the Court of Nightmares.

The first time you saw Azriel had been at a revel, one held for the High Lord’s birthday. Attendance had been mandatory, and as you rarely attended revels you dressed your very best, a black silk floor-length gown with a slit running all the way up your left leg and ending at the top of your thigh. It had thin straps to hold it on both shoulders, and you had never felt more beautiful. It was one of the few things you had saved up to buy, nearly working yourself ragged to do so, but it was worth it.

The way his eyes met your across the room once he entered was electric, and he had made your way over to you almost in an instant.

Your heels had made you four inches taller, but the moment you stood next to the Shadowsinger you felt as if you weren’t wearing them at all. His wings added extra height to him, and you felt so small in comparison. But he didn’t lean over you, attempting to use his height to intimidate you. Instead, he introduced himself.

“My name is Azriel. What is your name, please?”

“I know who you are, Shadowsinger.”

“If you know who I am, would it not be fair for me to know who you are?” Azriel countered. “I merely wish to know the name of my mate.”

Mate. The word struck through you, the bond snapping with such intensity you stumbled slightly in your heels. Azriel steadied you with a calm hand, and you internally scolded yourself.

One conversation and you’re acting like a fool.

“Y/N," you finally respond.

“Y/N,” Azriel said, testing your name out on his tongue. The sound sent instant butterflies into your stomach. “Would you care to join me somewhere more private?” You gave him a look of disdain, having hoped he would be different from the rest. “No no, nothing like that. I figure that the prying eyes and ears turned to hear our every word are something both of us would like to avoid.”

You thought about it for a moment. Truly, the male could have swept you away in an instant, whisking you away to Mother knows where. If he had ill intent, he most likely would have acted upon it already.

“I suppose another location could be nice,” you reply, holding a hand out for him to take. He took it in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Your heart fluttered, tugging lightly on the bond accidentally.

He winnowed the two of you away, and reappeared in a sitting room a moment later.

“I know that this is a shock to you, honestly it’s a shock to me as well,” Azriel started. “I never- I have not once believed that I deserve to be blessed with a mate, but I know that if you choose to pursue the bond, I will take care of you for as long as you allow. Even if you choose to reject the bond, if you would like I will provide you with a home of your own, anywhere you would like in the Night Court.”

Choose to reject- “What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. A male- your mate- was offering to take care of you even if you reject the bond. That was… unheard of here.

“I want to take care of you, even if you have no part in my life. I would enjoy getting to know you if you are open to it, though.”

“I…” You hesitated. A mate was something out of your control. Already, you were acting on instinct instead of carefully planning each action. But… The Mother had judged you as equals, and if he was being truthful… “Make a bargain with me. Promise that you will allow me to leave you permanently and alive if I choose to.”

Azriel blinked at you twice before his face broke into a grin larger than you though possible for such a stoic male. “It’s a bargain, Y/N.”

A burning sensation sparked on your sternum, just below where your dress started. You pulled it back slightly, and saw a delicate moonflower wrapped in shadows. Pretty.

“Tell me about yourself?” Azriel asked lightly.

And you had.

The two of you had gone on a few dates before you even let him inside of your house, and another three months after that you let him stay the night for the first time.

You were slow to trust, even if Azriel had shown no signs of abusive behavior or anything similar. But over time he made his way into your heart, residing around the very middle of it. He was your world now, the one you would do anything for. Even if that made you weak, or soft, and he was the one person you allowed yourself to let your guard down around.

Over a year in, on your birthday, Azriel had spent the entire day with you, a rarity with his job and you occasionally being called away for healing duties. He had cooked you dinner while you watched, flitting around him and wanting to help, but Azriel wouldn’t let you.

The dinner had been wonderful, Azriel was truly gifted in the kitchen. After, Azriel had asked if you would live with him.

You said yes.

The two of you bought a house together in Velaris, a city that made the spark of hope that had ignited in your chest after meeting Azriel turn into a blazing fire. Here, the people were free. They could do whatever they wanted, be whoever they wanted, follow their dreams until the end.

Your dream, your wish that you kept so deeply buried inside of your heart, was to reclaim the softness that had been stolen from you, beaten from your bones.

Azriel had helped with that already, his love and affection melting away the hard exterior you had while in private with him. Five years after meeting, you had accepted the bond on his birthday with his favorite meal, and the frenzy that followed was absolute bliss.

This year was a bit different, Azriel’s sole mission on your birthday was to make your dream for yourself come true, twenty years into your mateship.

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your hair on the eve of your 145th birthday when Azriel called you into your shared bedroom.

“Yes, my love?” You asked as you entered, and then you saw it.

Azriel was holding a baby pink silk nightgown with lace along the hem and a bow on the middle of the collar, far cuter than anything you normally wore. And… you had seen it before. When you went shopping for a set of lingerie to surprise your mate, you had lingered in front of it, testing out the soft feeling of the fabric against your fingers, wishing you were brave enough to purchase something so cute, let alone wear it.

“I… How did you know?”

Redness spread onto Azriel’s cheeks as he confessed, “I might have had a few reports from my shadows about the things you seem to want, but do not buy for yourself. The one that sleeps on the back of your neck all day was particularly vocal about it. I wanted to surprise you, sweetheart, with a wonderful day tomorrow. But that starts tonight, with you wearing this to bed.” His smile was so sweet, your knees went weak. It was always so hard to resist him.

“What is tomorrow?”

“If you allow it, and place full trust in me, I have planned out a day for you to have to make no decisions, just following your instincts.” You wrinkled your nose, the idea of giving up all control was one you had rarely entertained in the dead of night, though it had always been to Azriel… “I know it sounds a bit daunting, but you know that I will never make you do anything that you do not want to, right?”

You nodded your head, that had always been the truth in your relationship. Everything was a mutual agreement, the both of you having issues with trust due to your childhoods.

“And we can drop at any time, and just have a nice day all to ourselves if you don’t enjoy it. All that I ask is that you give it a chance. Will you?”

Having that last piece of knowing it could end at any moment, that small bit of control to put your mind at ease.

“Yes,” you breathed, walking over to where he was standing, nightgown still in his hands.

“Thank you, babydoll. I promise, tomorrow will be wonderful. Now, let me undress you,” he said, setting the nightgown down on the bed and raising the hem of your shirt.

You let him, raising your arms to help. Next came your bra, gently undone with kisses placed on your neck as he did so. Then he unbuttoned your pants, shimmying them down your hips and tossing them away after you lifted your feet.

“Arms up, princess.” You blushed at the nickname, one reserved for tender moments in between the sheets, and did as he said. The nightgown slipped over your head, the fabric running down your body like water. The lace at the edges was soft, no hints of scratchiness to be found.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. So cute and sweet, and all for me,” Azriel whispered into your ear as he pulled you into a hug, your body softening against his after a few moments. A sigh slipped out of your lips, and Azriel kissed the crown of your head before pulling away slowly. “Did you need to do anything else before we go to bed?”

“No, I did everything already Az.”

“Let’s go to sleep then, lovely,” he said, and the two of you slipped beneath the sheets, your back to his chest and his arm wrapped tightly around your chest, one wing cocooning the two of you.

You fell into a peaceful sleep, the scent and feeling of your mate all you could ever think to wish for.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The next morning you were awoken to soft kisses trailing down your neck, and the sensation of wet hair tickling you.

Az’s arm was still around you, and you wiggled in his hold, pressing your hips back against his.

“Now, now,” Az tutted, slight disapproval in his voice, and you stilled. “None of that right now, my sweet birthday princess. It’s time for your bath.”

“Mm I don’t want to get out of bed yet though, Az,” you whined. The sheets were far too comfortable, and the nightgown you were wearing was heaven against your skin, plus the hard press of your mate against your rear… no, you wanted to stay in bed.

“I promise the bath with be worth it, babydoll. Come on,” he said, getting out of the bed and taking you with him, carrying you into the bathroom and setting you on your feet.

The bath had already been drawn, a thick layer of bubbles covering the surface and a soothing lavender and chamomile scent wafting from it. Candles were set up along the edge, and a cup of coffee made just how you like was sitting on the counter.

You went to remove your new nightgown before Azriel’s hands stopped you.

“Let me do that, sweetheart.” He lifted the gown of your head and put it in the laundry basket. “Go ahead and get in, I’ll bring you your coffee.”

You did as he said, and the water was at the perfect temperature. Azriel handed you your coffee, and you took a large sip before looking at him.

“You aren’t going to join me?”

Azriel smiled and shook his head. “No, princess, this bath is all about you. I took one just before I woke you up. Drink your coffee, sweetness,” he said, tilting the cup toward your mouth again.

You do as he says again, even though your mind is fighting against it. He had asked that you try, so you would try as hard as you could to enjoy it.

And really, with your body warmed inside by coffee and outside by the luxurious bath Az had drawn for you, it wasn’t too hard to like it so far. Especially once Azriel started to wash your body with a soft cloth, taking is time to massage out any knots in your shoulders and arms. You always were tense with your healing work.

But all of that stress melted away with your mate’s gentle hands cleaning your skin.

When he finally pulled you out of the bath, he dried you off with a fluffy towel, pressing soft kisses all over you. You were feeling sleepy all over again, and just wanted to crawl back into bed with your mate.

“Alright, baby, we just need to get you dressed and then I’ll start breakfast.” Azriel went to the closet and pulled out a lavender wrap dress with short sleeves, another item that you had admired while shopping before. It was buttery soft as Azriel pulled it over your head, and it fell to right above your knees. You felt beautiful.

Azriel brought your slippers over to you, helping secure them on your feet.

“You look even better in this than I thought you would, sweetheart, though I don’t know how that’s possible.” You blush at his words, holding your arms out for a hug. He wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you tight against his chest. He’s so warm, and smells so good. His night chilled mist and cedar scent lulled you into a daze, your eyes glazed over when you met his after he pulled away from you slightly.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hi,” you say back, your voice quiet.

“You doing good?” He asked as his hand caressed your face gently. You could only nod, so at peace and in the moment with your mate. A smile breaks across his face, and he tightened his arms around you once more before he disentangled himself from you.

“Come on babydoll, you can watch me make breakfast,” he said, leading you into the kitchen. He picked you up and set you on the island counter across from the stove.

He pulled out two wrapped packages, a carton of blueberries, and a bowl covered with a lid, then grabs three frying pans out of a cupboard.

"What's for breakfast?" You ask, resisting the urge to kick your feet as they hang in the air from your place on the island counter.

"Pancakes, sausages, bacon and some fruit, my love," Azriel replies, placing a kiss on your forehead when he turned to look at you.

"Do you need any help?" You ask out of habit.

While Azriel does take care of you as much as you allow, it has been hard kicking your old habits of always offering to help, any way to make your eventual suffering easier on you.

"No, sweetheart, I just need you to sit there and look adorable. Can you do that for me?" Azriel requests as he unwraps the sausages and puts them in a pan, then does the same with the bacon.

You sigh. Doing nothing? That's difficult. "I can try, Az."

"Good girl." Now that sent a thrill through you, and put a smile on your face. In the past couple of years you had noticed how much praise had begun effecting you, especially from the lips of your mate.

Azriel began making breakfast, pouring some of the batter he had made before waking you up into one of the pans. He places some blueberries onto it, being more careful with them than usual.

Az could feel your eyes on him, and turned to look at you. "Yes, love?"

"You're being careful with the blueberries," you state.

"Yes I am. I'm making smiley faces in the pancakes, sweetness."

You smile widened, the idea of it was so cute. "Smiley faces?"

"Mhm. I figured I would even make your breakfast cute, Y/N. After all, you're so cute you deserve to eat cute things too." His words sent blood to your cheeks, and your legs started kicking gently in the air.

Azriel returns to the stove, dutifully cooking until he hears you make to get off the counter. He whips around and holds your hips in place. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I... I wanted to help."

He kisses your lips, cheeks, then forehead. "You are too sweet, mate. I have everything under control, I promise. Just stay here and eat some blueberries, okay?" He hands the carton to you, and you pout slightly as you toss one in your mouth.

Azriel turns back to the stove, ready to get the food finished so he can pay more attention to you again.

In a few minutes, he's plated everything and brought it to the table, including a bowl of fruit from the fridge, before returning to you. He picked you up, carrying you over to the table as you giggle in his arms. Azriel gently sets you in your chair, then takes the seat next to you, scooting his chair over so that he's right next to you.

You go to pour some syrup on your pancakes- the smiley faces are pretty adorable- before a hand stops you, taking the bottle from your grasp. "Hey-"

"I told you, sweetheart, that you don't have to do anything today. That includes pouring your syrup and cutting your food." Az pours a generous amount on your pancakes, just the way you like them. He cuts a bite for you, and brings the fork to your mouth.

You look between the bite of food and Azriel, raising a brow.

"Open up, babygirl." His gentle tone coaxes you to give it a try, and you let him feed you the bit of pancake.

The blueberries are just the right amount of sweetness, the pancake itself thick and fluffy. Your eyes close for a moment as you chew, and when you open them Azriel has a soft smile on his face.

“Is it good?”

You nod your head. Azriel’s pancakes are one of your favorite foods he makes, always so delicious and fluffy.

“Good. Open wide,” he said as he brought another forkful to your mouth.

The pattern continued, Azriel taking bites off his own plate while you chewed yours. Before long you were full, turning your head away from the last bite of sausage Azriel was offering you.

“You full, babygirl?”

“Mhm, it was a lot of food, Azzie.” The nickname slipped out of your mouth without you even thinking, a sure sign you were relaxed and happy. “This is nice, so far,” you admitted.

Azriel’s face split into a grin, a rarity on his face, though it was becoming more and more common in your presence. “I knew you would like it, Y/N.” He kissed your forehead, then stood up from the table and offered you a hand. You take it and let him pull you into the bedroom. “Now, we are going to go shopping. But, with the weather, you need to wear a little more than you are now, cutie.”

He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of white woolen tights, and turned back to you. “Sit down on the bed for me.” You do, and he goes to his knees in front of you. He takes off your slippers, then shimmies the tights up your legs until they’re all the way on your hips. “Perfect, sweetheart, you look so adorable in these. Do they feel warm enough to go out into the snow?”

“Yes, I think I will be warm enough. But I’m not sure I have a coat that will be good enough, though…”

Azriel chuckled. “I got one for you specifically for today, but I hope you will wear thicker coats more often. I hate to think of you walking in the cold in just a light jacket when I’m not here, sweetheart.” He pulled you up from the bed, leading you to the entryway closet that he opened, grabbing a puffy white coat that looked like it would go down to your mid-thigh.

You extended your arms without him prompting you, which made him smile again. He slipped the coat onto your arms, buttoning it up methodically. He then grabbed a pair of fluffy white snow boots which you slid your feet into, letting him lace them up for you. He pulled on his own coat, which he let you button up when you gave him a pouty look, then put on his own boots.

“Just a few more things, baby.” He wrapped a light pink knit scarf around your neck, making sure to cover as much skin as he could with it, leaving it loose in the front in case you felt like pulling it over the bottom of your face. Then he slipped matching mittens onto your hands, pressing a kiss to the top of each one beforehand. And the last was a matching hat with a pink puffball on the top. He fit it snuggly onto your head.

“You should wear a hat too, Azzie,” you point out. Especially if it was snowing, you didn’t want your mate to catch a cold. He merely smiled and shook his head at you, grabbing his own black hat and gloves from the closet.

“You worry about me so much, sweetie. I was always going to wear a hat, it’s been snowing since I woke up, after all.” He tapped your nose with his pointer finger, then leaned in for a kiss. It was so gentle and sweet, a perfect kiss if there ever was one. Then again, that was all of their kisses.

The two of you left your home, Azriel locking the door behind you. There was a thick layer of snow on the ground, most likely four of five inches deep.

Azriel grabbed your hand and began leading you down the street that would take the two of you to the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

The snow made the trek take longer than usual, but with your mate’s warm hand encasing yours, you didn’t mind at all. The two of you passed a few shops before you made it to your first destination, a bedding store that the two of you had come to in the past.

He brushed the snow off of your hat and shoulders, the pulled you into the shop.

“Now, sweetheart, I want you to remember to follow your instincts, pick out whatever you feel drawn to, okay?” You nodded your head; After all, the day so far had been amazingly comforting, the caring presence of your mate doing so much to relax you.

He let you wander around the shop, following closely behind you with his shadows swirling around your feet. You paused in front of a shelf of throw blankets, your eyes catching on a blush colored one.

Reaching a hand out, you went to brush your fingers on it before realizing they were still clad in mittens.

“Here, sweetness, let me take that for you,” Azriel said as he removed the mitten from your hand, leaving it free to brush against the blanket.

“It’s so soft,” you breathed. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at Azriel. “Can I get it?” Your voice was shy, still nervous about choosing cute things for yourself.

“Of course, princess. You can get anything you want, today and every day.” He picked the blanket up and held it in his arms. “Keep looking, there’s a lot more you haven’t seen yet.”

You followed his suggestion, walking further into the shop. Your eyes lock onto a sapphire blue pillow, fur all along the top side of it. Your ran your fingers through it- so silky smooth, you just needed to have it. “This too, please,” you whispered to Az, and he licked that up as well. The two of you looked through the rest of the shop, but nothing else caught your interest strongly enough to linger near it. Azriel gently led you with a hand on your back to the counter, placing both items on it.

“Did you find everything you needed?” The clerk asked as he wrote out the total on a receipt, crediting the purchase to your joint account.

“Yes we did, thank you,” Azriel replied, squeezing your hand in his.

“Were you needing a bag at all today?”

“No, thank you, we’ll be fine without one,” Azriel said, grabbing the pillow and blanket off the counter and leading you back to the entrance. Before you stepped outside, he handed the items off to his shadows, letting them carry the goods back to your home. He also pulled your mitten out of his pocket and slipped it back onto your hand.

You left the shop, heading further into the Palace. A few doors down, Azriel opened the door to a clothing store, ushering you inside.

Without prompting, you began to explore the store. This was one you had only looked into from the windows on the street, deeming the clothes, as lovely as they are, too feminine and cutesy for your daily life.

But once inside, you couldn’t help but pick out a decent number of outfits, taking them to into the dressing room to try on, Azriel waiting outside.

“Show me each one that you like, sweetie,” he requested, taking a seat in the chair meant specifically for this purpose.

You do, showing him a halter top and skirt set in a gorgeous blue that matched his siphons near perfectly. “This is perfect, love,” he praises you, pulling you by your hips to him. “It’s so sweet when you match me.”

You giggle softly, placing a kiss on his lips. “I definitely want this one.” You spin your hips, the skirt flaring out attractively from where it had rested at your mid-thigh. “It’s fun to move in,” you say, happiness in your voice.

“Good. Go try on some more, babygirl.”

A few outfits later, and you only found one other piece of clothing you wanted at the moment. It was a shade of pale pink with long, flowing sleeves that came down to the tops of your fingers. The hem reached yours knees, the skirt of the dress separated from the bodice by a matching ribbon at the waistline. The ribbon tied into a bow at the back, something that you would normally never wear out, let alone pick out to try on. But, Azriel had wanted you to try, and it was honestly easier than you had thought it would be to follow your instinctual taste.

You opened the curtain, and Azriel’s jaw dropped open- the only other time that had happened in public was your wedding and mateship ceremony.

“You look…” he paused, and your doubts started creeping in. “You look so, amazingly beautiful sweetheart, like a true angel brought to this earth to bless my life.” He stood up from his chair, scooping you into his arms and twirling you around, causing you to loose a giggle.

“I love this one, it’s so perfect. I feel like a princess,” you say after he sets you down, a wide smile on your face.

“I would have bought it anyways, just for the slightest chance you ever even thought of putting it on again.”

You change back into your clothes, letting Azriel redress you in your outerwear. He brings your two outfits to the front counter, once again handling the interaction for you as you leaned into his side. It was nice, not having to worry about any of the minutiae that went with shopping.

He pulls you out of the shop, a large bag in his hands which he keeps in his hand instead of sending off with his shadows. The two of you make your way over to the Rainbow slowly, enjoying the slow snowfall.

“In here, sweetheart,” Azriel says, guiding you into an art supply shop. “I have something specific in mind for you.”

“Oh? What is it Az?”

“Right here,” he says, extending a hand towards a set of ink pots, neatly packaged together in a wooden box with a glass lid.

“Inks?”

“Yes, I thought you could use something that’s easy, a bit mindless to do when you have free time. I asked Feyre what she thought about an ink set with a few books of drawings to fill in with color, and she thought it was the perfect idea for when you want to do something with your hands, but you don’t want to focus or think. It also comes with quills that are enchanted to return the ink to its pot when you hold it over the correct pot again, that way you won’t have a problem switching between colors… What do you think?”

You thought about it. While it did feel a bit… childish to color in pictures, the idea of having something simple to do when you’re tired but restless would be nice.

“That sounds nice, Az. Do they have books I can pick out here?”

“Yes, they do. They’re over in the back right corner, I’ll meet you over there in a second sweetheart.”

You wandered off into the direction he guided you, finding the selection of coloring books fairly quickly.

One instantly caught your eye, a collection of different creatures found in the Night Court, drawn in a cuter way than they appeared in person. You grabbed that one, and another of plants found in the solar courts.

Azriel came up behind you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, through your hat. You turn around to look at him and held the two books out for him to take, which he did.

“Did you want any others right now?”

“No, I think two will be enough for now. We can always come back again if I want more,” you said, and Azriel’s face softened before he kissed you.

“Alright, I’ll get this paid for and then we have one more stop before we’ll get some tea.”

In a few minutes, the two of you were leaving the shop, another bag in Azriel’s hands. The next shop he led you two was just two doors down from the art supply one, and it was a store you had considered going into every single time you had come to the Rainbow.

The windows were filled with various stuffed animals, plants, and fae. There was a whole half of a window dedicated to Illyrians, all fitted with differently colored siphons, though three you could tell were based off of your mate and his brothers.

That was one of the reasons you had always wanted to enter the shop, having a small miniature Azriel to keep you company while he’s away on long missions and the bond is quieted by the distance.

Azriel drags you inside, taking you over to the display holding the Illyrian plushies.

“Did you want one of me, babygirl?”

Color flushed your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest before nodding.

“Did you want this small one? Or did you want a bigger one, one that’ll be enough to snuggle while I’m gone?”

“…Both?”

A chuckle vibrates through Azriel’s chest. “Both it is, baby. Go ahead and grab the small one, and look at the other options while I get the larger one ordered, okay?”

You grab the small miniature of your mate, then walk slowly towards the counter in the back of the store that Azriel was standing at. You pick up another plush, this one is your favorite flower, and join him at the counter.

“That will be ready in a week or so, Shadowsinger. We will send a note to your home, informing you when it is ready to be pick up. Ah, are these the other purchases?” The clerk asked, taking the plushies from your arms after you nod in confirmation. “Perfect, I will just grab you a bag, and you two are all set. Have a lovely rest of your day,” she says kindly, giving you a warm smile as she hands the bag to you.

Azriel guides you out of the store with a gentle hand on your lower back, and takes the bag from your hand once you’re back in the winter weather.

“How does tea sound to you, love?” Azriel asked, still leading you with that comforting hand.

“Something warm would be nice.”

He leads you to a tea shop that is decorated in soft pastels and smells heavenly, most likely because of the large case of baked goods that instantly drew your eyes. The two of you approach the counter, your eyes passing over every dessert in the case, lingering on a slice of strawberry cake and an adorable cookie, decorated with pink frosting and in the shape of a fox, it’s features drawn on in black frosting.

Azriel talks with the fae at the counter, but you aren’t listening, only looking between the slice of cake and the cookie, trying to decide between the two.

“Anything catching your eye, love?” Azriel asks softly into your ear, startling you from your thoughts.

“Oh, um…” you try to make a decision between the two, but your brain isn’t working fast enough.

“We can share a few, if you want more than one,” Az suggests gently, and when you point out the two items you want, he knows he found your dilemma.

“We’ll have a slice of strawberry cake and one of those pink fox cookies, please,” Azriel says, ordering for you and pressing a kiss to your head.

“But what about the tea-?”

“I already ordered some, love. Come on, let’s go take a seat.” Azriel pulls you to the side of store with a large fireplace, something you hadn’t even noticed when you walked in. He removes your coat, setting it on the back of a chair, then gently pushes you down onto it.

At this point, you feel like all you can do is follow his lead, so relaxed and in the moment that you don’t even want to make decisions.

Azriel sits in the seat next to yours, scooting as close as he can to you like he did with breakfast. He takes each mitten off of your hands, then removes your hat, smoothing out your hair after he sets it down.

Between the fire roaring in front of you and his wing covering your back, you were so warm and cozy you thought you might even be able to take a nap here.

“How are you doing, baby?” He asks lowly in your ear, wrapping an arm around you as well.

You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, something you usually would never do in public. But Azriel is so warm, and smells so wonderful. And he’s here, keeping you safe. Even from prying eyes, with his massive wing blocking you from the windows leading to back to the streets of the Rainbow.

“Perfect,” you sigh, melting further into his shoulder.

The fae who took your order comes over with a tray, a teapot, two teacups, and two plates with the desserts you picked out on top of it. You keep your head where it is, too comfortable to move, even if it means showing that to someone you don’t know. She sets all of the items on the table, pouring out tea for the both of you. “Enjoy,” she says with a smile as she walks away.

The two of you sip your tea, a sweet floral blend that you can’t quite name, but you suppose that doesn’t matter too much. Azriel feeds you bites of cake and the cookie slowly, taking his own every now and then.

You nearly fall asleep on him once the desserts are finished, so content in this moment you don’t want to move.

“Alright, princess, let’s get home for a little bit before dinner.” You groan, pushing further into his shoulder. “We can snuggle when we get home, princess.” That gets you to move, the thought of being snuggled together under your new blanket on the couch at home. You turn to look at Azriel, who has a fond look on his face.

“What?”

“You’re so cute, love.” He kisses you, then stands up and grabs your coat off the back of your chair. Your face scrunches as you stand, not wanting to leave the warmth of the fireplace behind either, but you let Azriel redress you in your winter clothes, smiling when he kisses you again. He picks up your shopping bags, the guides you out of the tea room, thanking the fae before closing the door.

The two of you make your way back home slowly, the snow even thicker on the ground now that you had spent another hour indoors.

Near your home, along the Sidra, you spot an untouched patch of snow, and pause in your tracks.

“What is it, love?” Azriel asks you, stopping and looking at you, then glancing to where your eyes were locked on to. “Oh, did you want to make a snow Illyrian, princess?”

You bite your lip, then nod your head. Azriel merely secures your hat further down your head, and checks to make sure that your mittens are still covering your hands. “Go for it. By tomorrow, all of the snow will have been trampled, sweetheart.”

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about what other would think of you being so childish-

No. You were going with your instincts today. Besides, hardly anyone was out no about today, and there was no one on this side of the Sidra to stare at you. And Azriel was here, he would keep you safe. So you got down on the ground, repeatedly moving your arms and legs in their full range of motion.

You had always wanted to do this as a child, but even on the times you were let out of the mountain during the winter, you had been kept on a tight leash.

But now, with your mate? You were free to do whatever you wanted, as he had proved time and again throughout your relationship, and so many times today alone.

You stop once you feel you’ve made enough of an impression on the snow, and Azriel reaches a hand down to pull you up. You take it, then step back into what you believe to be the road and glance back at your creation.

It’s cute, though it looks nothing like Illyrian wings, but you suppose that doesn’t matter much.

“So cute Y/N. But let’s go now, I don’t want my sweet little mate to catch a cold.”

The two of you make your way back to your front door, and Azriel unlocks it before ushering you inside.

He strips you of your outerwear before taking his off, and you beeline for the couch in the living room, where your new blanket and pillow are already waiting for you.

“Before we snuggle, princess, you should change out of your dress,” Azriel suggests, and you groan in protest.

“But I want to snuggle right now,” you say impatiently.

“I know, love, but it will only take a moment to change you into something different sot that your dress doesn’t get too wrinkled before dinner.”

You sigh then follow him into the bedroom. He deposits the shopping bags onto the bed, pulling something out of the bag from the clothing store, one that you didn’t recognize.

It was a sleepwear set, a tank top with a bow resting in the middle of the neckline, a pair of shorts, and a set of knee high socks, all in a pale blue.

“When did you pick that out?”

“While you were trying on all of those clothes. I thought I would pick out some to give you as a surprise princess, after all, it is your birthday.”

You approach the bed and peek into the bag, and see that it is mostly full, pastel sets of underthings on every shade of the rainbow.

“Do you want to wear one of the sets now?”

You pull one out, a bralette and pair of panties in a pastel pink. “This one,” you say, presenting it to him.

He sets the clothes down on the bed, then strips you of the clothes you’re wearing. You let him redress you in the new clothes, loving how soft all of the fabrics are, Azriel having shopped for your comfort as well as a softer look than your usual attire.

“You look so adorable in those, baby,” Azriel says, his voice soft and sweet as he puts the socks on you, then your slippers.

“Thank you, Azzie. I really like these, they’re so cozy,” you say, running your hands along the tank top. “Can we cuddle now?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I do have a couple of reports I need to write first, it shouldn’t take more than an hour, but I’ll have you rest your head in my lap, if you would like.”

Your lip slides into a pout, you wanted to cuddle with him now.

“I know, sweetheart, but I’ll be quick about it, okay? And you can hug one of your new plushies while you wait for me to finish.”

“Fine…” you agree, fishing the plush that resembles Azriel out of the bag and clutch it to your chest while you follow Azriel back into the living room.

He sits down on the couch, patting his lap in invitation. You follow him, curling up on the couch and resting your head on his lap, sighing when he settles the soft, blush pink blanket over your body.

Papers rustle as Azriel’s shadows bring him what he needs to complete his work, but your eyes are already closed. One of Az’s hands begins to card through your hair slowly, and you let out a quiet purr at the sensation.

Within a few minutes, you had drifted off to Azriel’s soft touches, quiet breathing, and the gentle scratch of a quill on paper.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

You were woken by Azriel shifting beneath you, attempting to move to lay down underneath you without waking you. You open your eyes, turning your head to look at him.

“Hello, beautiful. I’m all done with my reports, now it’s time for us to snuggle together,” He says gently, moving your body so he’s now laying on his back, you pulled over him, your head resting on his chest. You kick your legs against the edge of the blanket, managing to get it over Azriel’s feet with a bit of work. You let out a deep breath once you have, sinking down into Azriel’s warm body.

You fall asleep again in a few minutes, now soothed by the sound of his heartbeat steadily thumping in your ear.

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Part 2

(tumblr's stupid 250 text block limit cut it off like a page and a half before it was done)

#control #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader fluff #daddy!azriel #soft!azriel #daddy!az #soft!az #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #tato writes

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sylverstorms · 9 months

Text

Demon Slayer Women ~How they Fall in Love~

Characters: Mitsuri Kanroji | Shinobu Kocho | Daki/Ume | Lady Tamayo.

Warnings: None, SFW.

Mitsuri Kanroji - Love At First Sight

It all began the fateful day Mitsuri's lively presence collided with yours. Quite literally collided, because the girl was dashing through the Ubuyashiki Estate, late to the Hashiras meeting, only to smack into a crash that was entirely her fault. To her credit, she had the split-second reaction time to grasp your biceps with her hands, pull you closer before you fell sideways and hit the wall. You still ended up in a tangle of limbs on the ground, though.

Flustered at her own carelessness, she immediately looked up to apologize, “Oh, gosh, I’m so s–” but her breath caught in her throat halfway through the sentence.

Her green eyes flew open wide, the blush on her cheeks only deepening. Your beauty radiated like the first light of dawn. She completely missed the first thing you said –that it was all good, or something– because, that sweet smile you gave her? It could melt the iciest of hearts. It certainly did a number on hers.

Without thinking, she reached up to brush the lock of hair that had fallen over your right eye. “I’m… really sorry.” came out in a breathy whisper. “Let me make it up to you?”

Ice-cream after the Hashiras’ meeting, her treat, Mitsuri insisted.

Little did you know, half the things said in that room flew right over her head, with how occupied it was with thoughts of you.

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

Shinobu Kocho - Admiration To Love

It was often that the demon slayers praised and idolized their most elite warriors, the Hashiras. Not as often that one of the Hashiras came to greatly admire someone from the lower ranks.

Kinoto or not, you made a lasting impression on Shinobu. Your drive to protect humans that seemed to render you immune to the pain of your injuries, that laser-focused look in your eye as you stared a Lower Moon down and trusted her to deliver the killing blow in time, before the monster decapitated you first. When the battle was over and adrenaline started to die down, your wounds caught up with you. You collapsed forward, but she was there to catch you, gently lowering you to the ground.

“You could have retreated as soon as I arrived.” she stated, staring deep into your eyes, perplexed.

“Hey, I’m fine. S’all good.” you drawled, dizzy from the blood loss. “Please, don’t be angry. We won. Won’t you give me a smile?”

“I am.” she answered.

“A real one?”

Right then and there, you stunned her. Shocked her. You, who met her that night for the very first time, saw through her carefully constructed mask that fooled even her closest associates. But for that one moment, gazing upon your relaxed face, she almost forgot her constant, burning anger.

And she smiled down at you for real.

—------------------------------------

Daki/Ume - Rivals to Lovers

In the shadowed realm of demons under Lord Muzan, Daki reigned with a cruel elegance for decades. Not as the most powerful, but surely the most beautiful. Until. Until you came along.

You and your accursed, gorgeous face and your deep, magnetizing eyes. How dare you show up just like that -out of nowhere!- and flash her that thousand-gigawatt smile. How dare you wink at her and so casually, so confidently say:

“Hello~ It’ll be a pleasure working with you, prettygirl.”

Instantly, she knew that she hated you. She was quick to show it, too. Daki's first interactions with you were filled with disdain and antagonism. And yet neither of you could deny the spark that those homing, sharp-witted comments ignited within you.

In equal parts, you infuriated and exhilarated her. She masked her true feelings beneath layers of scorn, unwilling to admit the vulnerability that lay beneath her pride. Until the evening you walked up to her, pushed a jewelry box into her hands and told her to take it and like it. Within lay a priceless necklace you knew had caught her eye years ago.

“Happy Demon Birthday, sexy.”

She tried. She really did try to bite the fuck out of her growing smile down. In the end, though, it still managed to overpower her. And that kind of marked the point of no return.

—-----------------------------------

Lady Tamayo - Slow Burn Love

In a world where demons and humans clashed ceaselessly, Tamayo stood as an anomaly. A cursed existence with a gentle soul, a demon devoted to helping humans in pursuit of atonement. It was by chance she came across you, the injured slayer in dire need of medical help.

Tamayo took you in, cared for your wounds and remained by your side for nights on end. Even unconscious, you seemed agitated at her presence at first, as if you could sense what she was. Gradually, however, you stopped flinching at the touch of her hand on your forehead. Eventually, you leaned into it.

She couldn't explain why the serene smile you gave in your sleep tugged at her heartstrings so powerfully. Then a twisting worry began to take root inside her, that the moment you woke up your liking to her would disappear, replaced by malice.

When you opened your eyes, she drew a meter back from you.

“You. You're the one who saved my life…?” you spoke in a voice hoarse from unuse. “I should thank you for that.”

“No need. It's clear you recognize what I am.” was her reply. Your eyes met. Ancient lavender orbs held your gaze kindly, awaiting your judgment with the patience of a saint.

A demon, you thought to accuse. The words were perched right on the tip of your tongue. Yet the more you stared at her, the harder they got to voice. Thus…

“A doctor?” you offered, instead.

The soft, slow smile she gave in response could light up the whole town.

A/N: Tysm for reading and if you’re interested in ASMR-type stories written and voiced by me featuring Demon Slayer women and other anime hotties: My YouTube <3

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #fanfiction #mitsuri x reader #shinobu x reader #daki x reader #tamayo x reader #creative writing #demon slayer x reader

383 notes · View notes

anemoxlys · 1 year

Text

Runaway

“They say a Stark keeps their vows, do they speak true?” “And if I asked you to make a vow to me, would you?” “Without hesitation.”

Cregan Stark x reader fic (mostly finished)

Word Count: 4480+

“Sister.” You heard the most unwanted voice of your eldest brother slur from behind you as he stumbled down the corridor, clearly drunk. “Aegon, I believe you should retire to your chambers.” You muttered, turning to walk away and continue on your way towards the library. “I do not think you should marry.” Aegon continued, clearly not taking note of your keenness to leave. “I couldn’t bear the thought of another man touching you, dear sister.” He finished before he tripped over his own feet and hurtled towards the ground. You left shortly afterwards.

“I do not know why I must be present.” Aegon muttered, clearly unhappy at having to sit through the many men trying to win your titles, money and future children. “I do not know either brother, why don’t you just leave if this angers you so.” You retorted with a snarl before turning to face the next man.

“Oh seven hells.” You cursed, staring down at the boy who stood before you, him being no older than two and ten. “You dare mock the princess with an infant?” Aegon laughed, eyes narrowing as the boy’s father stepped forwards. “I am aware that my son is young-” He began before he was cut off once more by Aegon, “What could he possibly offer to the princess except for wooden horses and games?” He jeered, causing the other suitors to snicker as well. “I have a good name, my grace, I could also offer my protection.” The child replied. “Your protection!” A man you could not remember the name of snorted, “Let us see how well you protect yourself before you claim to protect her highness.” The boisterous man continued, drawing his sword at the boy. “Aegon.” You said, standing as the man drew closer to the now trembling child. “Fear not sister, I doubt the child will harm Ser Horton.” He replied, a sick grin spreading across his lips. Your eyes scanned the sea of suitors, desperately trying to find someone who would stop this cruel mockery.

You watched, mortified, as Horton brought his sword past his head and began to bring it back down on the child who’s own sword was stuck in the scabbard he clearly received a few days prior. “Pick on someone your own age.” A gruff voice spat as the sound of steel against steel sounded. A man with the most gorgeous brown hair stood with his back turned to you, blocking Horton’s sword from reaching the now snivelling child. With no hesitation, you ran down the steps in the throne room and fell to your knees before the child. “Are you alright?” You asked, taking the small boy’s hands on your own. “I apologise my lady.” He sobbed, head turned to the floor, “I am a fool to think myself worthy of you.” “Nonsense, you will grow to be a fine knight, you are simply not of the right age yet.” You replied, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead before turning to his father with a glare. “He is far too young to be courting someone of my age, you have placed his life in danger by doing so. You disgust me.” You hissed, eyes blazing with fury as you turned to face the rest of the suitors, “Cowards, each and every one of you. You stood and watched as this poor child was about to be murdered before your very eyes, and yet none of you did anything. You are less worthy than the boy you failed to consider.” You finished your rant by turning to face the only man in the room you could stand to look at, “Thank you Ser…” You began before trailing off at the realisation that you neither knew his name nor noticed the striking grey eyes that stared at you as if you were the only woman alive. “Ser Cregan Stark, princess.” He replied, taking your hand in his as he pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Well then, thank you my lord. You have proved yourself an honourable and just man. Would you care to accompany me to the gardens for a walk? I wish to clear my mind.” You offered, extending your hand for Cregan to take, which he did momentarily.

“Is the north pleasant, my lord?” You asked, breaking the peaceful silence the two of you had fallen into. “Very my lady, the views I believe would be much to your liking.” He replied with a fond smile. “Tell me my lord, are all men of the North as handsome as you, or did you just get lucky?” You grinned, leaning slightly closer to the man as he looked down at you. “I consider myself to be better looking than average, but I’ll leave that judgement up to you, your highness.” He replied with a smile. The two of you fell back into an easy going rhythm of silence before you once again broke it, “Do you have many direwolves Lord Stark?” “I do indeed princess, our lady just had a litter of pups a few moons ago.” He elaborated further. “I do so love Direwolves, I find them very beautiful.” You smiled, thinking back to your previous trip up north. “You have been North princess?” He asked, mildly surprised. “Yes, never as far as Winterfell though, and not for many years now.” You replied sadly. “I shall extend an invitation the moment I return home, if you are not with me that is.” He returned, a smile spreading across his lips as he finished speaking. “How very forward Lord Stark, whatever would my brother’s think?” You teased, a slight blush forming over your cheeks at the pleasant thought. “They would think that-” He began before he was interrupted, “Sister, Aegon has been searching all over for you.” Aemond muttered, pushing himself away from the tree he’d been leaning against. “Of course brother.” You replied, turning to face Cregan Stark and wishing him a brief farewell before pressing a kiss to his cheek and whispering something into his ear, “I would very much like to take you up on your offer Lord Stark.” You finished, pulling away with a soft smile before following an awaiting Aemond out of the gardens.

“You smell like wet dog.” Aemond muttered as you caught up to him. “Don’t be mean Aemond.” You replied, giving your brother a quick glare before continuing, “I rather like him.” You both fell into a silence shortly after and soon enough you were once more in the throne room. “Sister!” Aegon grinned as the room fell silent again. “Brother.” You replied, standing in the doorway, “What is it you needed me for?” You asked, refusing to step further into the room. “We must continue, my dear, there are many more suitors.” He grinned, inviting you to sit beside him as you reluctantly walked forwards.

Suitor after suitor came and went before Cregan Stark was officially presented as a suitor himself. “Lord Stark, Warden of the North, your highnesses.” The herald announced as you immediately sat up straighter and a smile appeared on your lips. “Lord Stark, how good it is to see you again.” You smiled as the Lord bowed his head at your brother. “The sentiment is shared princess.” He replied with a smaller smile dusting his cheeks. “Have you seen a dragon before, my lord?” You asked. “I’m afraid to say I haven’t princess.” He answered. “Well then, you must allow me to show you mine, it is only fair that should I meet your direwolves you should meet my dragon, is it not?” You smiled before leaning back against your chair. “I believe so, your highness.” He grinned before turning to your brother to say the usual proposal.

“So Lord Stark, are you ready?” You smiled, taking his hand as you pulled him down the corridor towards the dragon pit. He only laughed in response, a smile spreading across his features as you enthusiastically danced down the hallways. “Rhaegon Iksan kesīr! (I am here!)” You called out as you entered the pit. “Qilōni's iā sȳz valītsos? (Who’s a good boy)” You whispered as you approached your dragon, followed by Cregan Stark. “Bisa iksis cregan Stārke, issa iā raqiros, sagon sȳz (This is Cregan Stark, he is a friend, be good.)” You murmured, reaching your hand out to pet the dragon before turning to Cregan and speaking, “This is Rhaegon, he is nice, do not worry.” You smiled, reaching your hand out for Cregan to take. When he did, you slowly brought it up to Rhaegon’s nose before releasing your hold. “sȳz valītsos (good boy)” You whispered, walking along the side of your dragon before speaking again, “ilagon (down)” You spoke before Rhaegon lowered himself to the ground. “Come, lord Stark.” You grinned, once again offered your hand for Cregan to take. “You are very unexpected princess.” He chuckled, taking your hand. “What did you expect my lord?” You laughed, climbing on top of Rhaegon as Cregan followed after, more slowly. “Call me Cregan and maybe I will enlighten you princess.” He returned, hands wrapping around your waist as Rhaegon began to move. “Only if you stop calling me princess Cregan.” You replied, gripping onto the reigns as you felt Rhaegon about to take flight. “It would be my pleasure, Y/N.” He muttered, now fully pressed against you as Rhaegon took off.

“Is it not freeing?” You laughed, turning to face Cregan who looked pale as a ghost. He silently nodded but the grip he held on your waist spoke otherwise. “You have to trust me for a moment.” You chuckled as he froze and stared up at you in horror as you handed him the reins, “You just have to hold them for a few minutes, Rhaegar knows what to do.” You finished, standing up as you spoke much to the horror of the Stark Lord. “gīda rhaegon, ao gīmigon skoros naejot gaomagon (calm Rhaegon, you know what to do).” You called before jumping off of your dragon. “Princess!” You heard Cregan call in horror after you. With a large smile you opened your arms and grabbed a hold of the pieces of fabric. “I told you to trust me my lord.” You said as you flew alongside your dragon. “Where are we going Princess?” He asked, his eyes now filled with amazed horror. “Where would you like to go Cregan?” You countered, a softer smile now spreading across your face at the sight of Cregan Stark atop your dragon, his cheeks pink and his eyes so beautifully alive. “You are very pretty my lord Stark.” You murmured, landing back on your dragon. “Many people have called me many things, no one has dared to call me pretty before my princess.” He chuckled as you sat down facing him. “No one has seen you like this before.” You returned, lying down on your dragon's back. “Well thank you princess, you too are pretty.” He chuckled, tentatively lying down beside you. “You never said where you would like to go, I hear Dorne has very pretty views.” You suggested, turning to face Cregan. “My lady, you are by far the prettiest view a man could ask for.” He replied, making your cheeks flush red as a flattered grin spread across your face. “If the fierce and scary wolf of the north thinks I’m pretty I must be doing something right, but do not flatter me too much else I will become insatiable.” You countered, attempting to cool your cheeks down. “Maybe that was my goal princess.” He replied, moving slightly closer to you. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” You returned, also moving slightly closer and then before you could continue your speech you felt lips press against your own.

“I do believe that is the most forward you have been my lord.” You chuckled before pressing your lips to his after the first kiss ended. “Is that such a bad thing?” He chuckled as you began to kiss along his jawline, “I do believe it was rather attractive.” You replied, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Glad to hear it princess.” He smirked before chasing your lips.

“Brother, where is our sister?” Aegon asked, storming through the doorway. “Riding.” Aemond replied nonchalantly, eyes not leaving the book he was reading. “And where is the Stark boy?” Aegon continued, Aemond immediately lifting his eye to stare in horror at his brother. “She would not…” Aemond muttered before realising that you very much would.

“Sȳz Rhaegon (Nice Rhaegon).” You whispered, climbing down from your dragon before assisting Cregan to do the same. “He is most impressive, my lady.” He smiled before taking your hand in his and walking you out of the dragon pit.

“Thank you Lord Stark, I shall discuss matters with my mother. I do hope to see your direwolves soon.” You smiled as Cregan pressed a kiss to your hand, the appearance of a gentleman returned to his face. “I shall make my proposal in the morning princess.” He smiled before bidding you goodnight.

That night sleep entirely evaded you and, after much deliberation, you crept down the corridor, notebook in hand. When you reached the gardens, a sigh of relief at not being caught left your lips before you sat yourself down on the grass and began to draw the flowers surrounding you.

“Princess.” You heard Cregan speak from behind you. “Lord Stark.” You replied with a smile, glancing at him before returning to your drawing. “Sleep evades you too I see.” He muttered, sitting beside you. “That it does my lord.” You agreed, closing your book as you grew content with the sketch. “I am very much looking forward to seeing Winterfell my lord.” You murmured, briefly closing your eyes to imagine the future you were looking forward to. “There are a few things I may be looking forward to more.” He hummed, his hand coming to rest atop of yours.

“No.” Your mother said after you enquired about your betrothal to Cregan Stark. “Why, mother, he is a fine candidate.” You pleaded with her only for a slap to arrive on your cheek. “You will not argue with me about this. You are to marry Ser Horton.” Alicent hissed before nodding to Ser Criston Cole who dragged you to your rooms. “Let me out!” You screamed, banging on the now locked door. “You are to remain here until your wedding day princess.” Ser Cole spoke through the now locked door before you heard the sounds of fading footsteps.

That was all three days ago. You had refused to eat, drink and most importantly refused to comply with any wedding arrangements. When the seamstress arrived you refused to rise from your bed until you were dragged form it by Ser Cole, then you refused to stand still or upright, and when that failed once again thanks to your mother’s lapdog, you resorted to hitting the seamstress, not before slipping her some money as she worked alongside a whispered apology before you did so. Until your mother cancelled your wedding, you were determined to stop her from being able to wed you.

“My lady, I have a letter.” Your servant, and probable only friend, Elayne spoke as she walked into the room holding your breakfast. “If it is from my mother I would rather you burn it.” You groaned, refusing to rise from your bed. “It is from Lord Stark, my lady.” She spoke, causing you to sit up straight and quickly move to take the letter from her. “What does it say, my lady?” Elayne asked after a few moments in which you read the contents. “He wishes to meet me tonight.” You said happily, glancing up at your friend who nodded, “I shall do as you wish, my lady. Just be safe.” She agreed, curtseying slightly as she left your food on the table in your chambers.

That night, you waited until Elayne arrived to prepare you for bed before quickly handing her your clothes and slipping yourself into one of your more light dresses. “Thank you.” You whispered before sneaking out through one of the many passages within the red keep. You quickly made your way out of the castle before moving in the direction of the town, only to realise probably too late, that you had very little clue as to where you were headed. It was mid way through your wondering when you felt an arm wrap around your waist causing you to attempt to let out a scream only for your mouth to be covered. “Easy, princess.” You heard the voice of Cregan Stark speak, turning his back to the street as golden cloaks patrolled past. “I thought you were a drunk.” You hissed, pressing your forehead to his chest. “I have missed you.” You murmured, a smile creeping onto your lips as you spoke. “And I you, princess. Now shall we?” He returned before offering you his arm which you happily accepted and together you entered the tavern.

He led you over to a table full of several other men, who you assumed to be Northerners as well, and three women who worked at the tavern. “Who’s this, Cregan?” One of the men spoke up as the two of you neared the table. “That’s the princess, Laroy. You fool!” Another one of the men answered for you. “By the gods, are you lost or something?” Laroy chuckled as you and Cregan sat down at the table. “Hardly, she looks utterly at home beside Lord Stark here.” A third man spoke up, causing the three of them to chuckle. “What can we do for you?” The second man asked, turning to you. “Wine, please. I’ll pay. Just put it on the royal tab.” You replied. “That alright?” Cregan asked, his arm moving around your waist. “The least I could do was make my mother pay extortionate amounts of money for alcohol she’s not drinking.” You replied with a smile. “Alright then, a wine for the lady and…” The man continued, now turning to Cregan. “Ale, as usual.” He answered before turning to you. “I heard of your sudden betrothal. I am sorry.” He spoke, his voice solemn. “My mother sprung it on me as well. I truly wish it were you.” You replied before an idea sprung to your head, “They say Stark’s keep their vows. Do they speak true?” You questioned, a grin coming across your mouth. “That they do.” Came your reply. “What if we were to say vows to each other, would you keep them then?” You continued, moving closer to Cregan. “Without a second thought, princess.” He replied, reciprocating your movements. “What would you vow?” You asked, lips nearly touching. “I would vow to ensure that you were never for hunger or thirst.” He replied, his voice deep. “And if I told you I was starved?” You replied, causing him to smirk in response. “Are you?” He murmured as a reply. “Of a sort.” You let your hand crawl up his leather clad thigh, the muscles rippling under your touch as the lord shuddered slightly as your fingers carried on up his chest. “Then, I would have to fix that.” He growled before pressing his lips to your own as his hand moved around the back of your neck.

There was a sudden bang that interrupted the two of you as the doors to the tavern flew open to reveal your furious brother, Elayne in tow. “Fuck.” You hissed, fear spreading across your body as Cregan moved to cover you. “It’ll be fine, princess.” You heard him whisper in response, his hand resting on your thigh as he began to move it in an attempt to soothe you. You watched in terror as your brother scanned the room, searching for you. As his eyes fell on Cregan’s table, you watched as his jaw clenched in rage before he stormed over towards you. “Sister.” He snarled, looming over your shaking form, Cregan’s hand still on your leg. “Brother.” You replied nervously. “Mother has been looking for you. She went in only to find this whore asleep in your bed.” He continued, eye narrowing as he saw Cregan’s hand, “Or maybe you, sister, are the whore.” He spat before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you away from the table. “Ser Cole!” He called as Criston walked in. “Yes, my prince?” He replied, “Ser Criston, have these men escorted to the edge of the city, I want them gone by morning. I fear there has been treason this evening.” He commanded. Ser Cole nodded and he and his men stepped forward. You quickly looked at Cregan, wide eyed before he mouthed something to you that calmed your terror slightly.

As Aemond dragged you out of the tavern, you dug your feet into the ground, trying to pull away from him, ignoring the slight twinge in your ankles as you did so. However he was too strong, his bruising grip growing tighter the further he dragged you away from the man you loved. “Aemond let me go!” You screamed, trying to yank your hand from his grasp as he pulled you into the keep.

“What were you thinking!” Your mother screeched at you, sounding all too like a banshee for your own comfort. “Whoring yourself out to every man you saw?” She continued, eyes blazing with a fury you’ve never seen before. “If you would just let me wed Lord Sta-” You began before another slap landed on your cheek. Tears welled in your eyes at the sting before your mother sighed and knelt down, cradling your face, “I just want what’s best for you, my love.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead as she nodded to Aemond who dragged you towards your room.

You waited there, furious, until the first signs of daybreak when you, yet again, ran from the keep. You ran until you reached the edge of the city where Cregan and his men were waiting. “Cregan.” You breathed, running up to him. “Princess.” He replied, his arms pulling you against him. “Let us leave before they realise I’m gone.” You muttered hastily. You watched as he nodded and climbed onto his horse before offering you his hand, pulling you up in front of him. “Your dragon?” He questioned. “It’ll be too cold for him up north.” You replied sadly before smiling at him, “You are all I need. Do not worry.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw as the horses began to depart. The trip was harsh, the bad weather initially slowing the horses, but the further you got from King’s Landing the easier the roads were to travel, meaning the journey only took just over two months opposed to the expected three and potential four depending on the weather. As you rode up to Winterfell you felt relief like you’d never experienced. A wave of sudden, unexpected, happiness came over you. As you left the saddle of your horse, you turned to Cregan and pressed your lips to his. “Thank you.” You murmured against his lips before kissing him again in the middle of the courtyard. “Brother, must you surprise me every time you return?” An unfamiliar voice asked. “Sara.” You watched Cregan grin, wrapping his arms around the woman. “Princess, this is my sister Sara.” He introduced. “It is a pleasure to meet you Sara.” You smiled as she brought you in for a hug. “What’s a princess doing all the way up north?” She asked after releasing you. “It’s a long story, but she is to be Lady Stark soon enough.” Cregan replied, noticing your hesitancy to speak of your running away. “Then, I am pleased to meet you, sister.” Sara spoke, her smile growing wider as she took your arm and spoke of a tour of the keep whilst the men unpacked.

You and Cregan were wed the following moon under the Weirwood tree and before the old gods, and since you left King’s Landing you had not been happier.

“We do not have to attend my love, it is a long trip, and I worry that something may go wrong.” Cregan murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek before moving them down your jaw. “I know, but my aunt is fighting for her family, I feel it is only right we show our support for her as well.” You replied, bringing one hand into his hair and the other to rest on your stomach. “It won’t be long now, my love.” He smiled, kneeling down and pressing a kiss to the bump. “I know. I still believe it’s a boy.” You sigh, leaning against the bed frame. “I know, however, I have always wanted a girl.” He muttered, leaning against your stomach as he spoke, one hand rubbing gently along your skin.

The journey down south was not as horrible as it could have been, but due to your current physical state it was significantly harder than the journey to Winterfell. Upon your arrival, you were greeted by Rhaeyra and her three children, alongside your uncle. “Princess.” You greeted, dismounting from your horse. “Niece.” She replied before the two of you broke into a grin. “I am happy for you.” She spoke, pulling you carefully into a hug. “And I for you, Rhaenyra.” You replied, happily embracing your eldest sister. “Lord Stark.” You heard Daemon greet your husband as he emerged from tying up your horses. “Prince Daemon.” He replied, smiling as you walked over to him. “Hello my love.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he spoke. “Be nice.” You grinned up at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before the two of you moved to greet Rhaenyra’s children. “They are beautiful Rhae.” You smiled up at your sister. “Thank you, how far along are you?” She asked, wrapping her arm around her eldest child. ��Six months now.” You answered, leaning your head against your husband. “I hope you will be as blessed with your children as I have been with mine.” She smiled before you all fell silent upon the arrival of your family.

“Sister.” Aemond was the first to speak, his voice cold and his eyes full of anger. “Aemond.” You replied, moving closer to your husband as your hand came to rest on his chest. “Daughter.” Alicent greeted, seemingly happy but as you watched you saw the same hatred in her eyes the night you left. “Your majesty.” You replied coldly. “It appears we have been too late to greet either of you immediately, our apologies.” She spoke, turning to face Rhaenyra and Daemon who both looked highly unimpressed. “I imagine plotting does take some time.” Daemon replied, the faintest smirk gracing his lips as you smiled softly at his words.

I have a Harwin Strong version (similar not exact) if anyone is intrested in that either?

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moonlightazriel · 1 year

Text

Do you love me? /// Aemond X F!Reader

Summary: Ever since the accident, Aemond has been insecure about his appearance, but things get even worse when he hears those nasty words reach the ears of his future wife.

Warnings: Nothing much, just angst

Word Count: 2,2K

Notes: Okay, I was rewatching HOTD and became obsessed with Aemond again, but the difference is that this time I’m a writer and decided to give it a try on writing for him cuz why not? And yes, it’s based on that lovely scene from Queen Charlotte, who cares?

Main Masterlist

“Perhaps you should not get too close, my lady.” The man behind her warned, but she couldn’t help, her feet carried her closer to the giant animal. Its leathery nose sniffed her scent before the large dragon rested its head on the floor.

“They are fascinating creatures.” The beast’s golden eyes watched her closely as she extended her arm, letting her fingers brush slowly over the dragon’s nose. Vaghar huffed, the warm breath fanning all over her body, and she smiled as the dragon allowed her to continue.

“You think so?” Another voice, deeper and serious, sounded but she didn't bother to turn around, a hushed whisper was shared and the sound of boots sounded against the stones.

“Of course they are. And those afraid of them are fools.” She replied, and a low chuckle sounded, she liked that sound. “My father told me tales about King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, when they did us the honour to visit our family, how those beautiful creatures flew over our home.” She kept rambling. “I have been dreaming with them ever since, being so close to the stars, feeling the breeze in my face, perhaps I might ask my dear husband-to-be for a special ride, if he bothers talking to me, ever.” She turned around, regretting every word that left her lips as Prince Aemond stood before her.

“I am sure he will consider such a request from his future wife.” She felt the heat in her cheeks, slightly embarrassed for what she had said.

“Your Grace.” She bowed to her betrothed, and the Prince gave her a small smile, watching in delight as she rushed out of the dragon’s pit.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

His soon to be wife, was a true beauty, her hair was always falling in curls behind her back, she was always wearing dresses in various shades of blue to honour her house, a true born Tyrell. She had left HighGarden when the Hand suggested that the King should marry her to his second son, to strengthen their alliances, Aemond would do everything to fulfil his duties to the crown. A marriage for allies, never for love.

But as he spotted her walking quietly by her Lord Father’s side as they entered the throne room, he knew it wouldn’t be hard for him to fall in love with her, a kind, well educated and beautiful lady.

She never looked at him with disgust, always seemed rather interested in what he spoke and how he carried himself, he had caught her gaze fixed on him as the two sat by the library to read, more times than he could remember. He knew she didn’t deserve a scarred, one-eyed prince as a husband, and she was too gentle to say so, he knew deep down that she would never love him. And he accepted that, as long as he could call her his wife.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“What is it like, Lidia?” He stopped in his tracks as he heard her sweet, melodic voice coming from the garden.

“What, my lady?” The servant replied and the other woman sighed, if he closed his eye, he could see her blushing, the red tainting her face, until it reached the roots of her beautiful hair.

“The first night after the wedding!” She lowered her voice, and he heard the servant giggle. “You’re married, are you not?”

“I am, my lady. I can assure you that it’s going to be fine, Prince Aemond will take good care of you.” The reply came and he smirked with that.

“But, my lady..” A third feminine voice sounded, one he did not recognize. “Do not forget to ask for him to keep the eyepatch, you will not want to be looking at that deformed face on your wedding night.” The comment was followed by a few women laughing. His heart twisted in his chest as she didn’t say anything.

He was used to the looks, the whispers, the frowns and the ladies in court running away from him, but the idea of her being one of those people, it hurt him deeply. He left without waiting for her reply.

“You should watch your tongue.” Y/N pointed to the lady. “Or else, Vaghar might want something different for dinner, and I heard that the meat from the Stormlands’ is quite good.” She turned her back to the group, marching towards the Keep.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She stood by the door, the fancy nightgown hugged her frame as she shivered in the cold night air. Aemond looked at her, his lilac eye glowing in the dim candle light.

“We do not have to do anything.” He simply stated. Y/N looked at him confused, with her eyebrows knit together in a lovely frown.

“We have to, it is what’s expected from us, Lord husband.” She said, walking closer to where he stood, next to the big bed.

“Duty, right.” It was all that left his mouth for the rest of the night as he laid bare with her, only the eyepatch covering his insecurities, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he touched her with adoration and worshipped her body as he made love to her. But the way she didn’t look at him, how her face would contort in something he didn’t know what it meant, this told him everything he needed to know.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How was it, my lady?” Lidia asked as she brushed through Y/N’s locks.

“I was so scared that I could not even look at him, and Gods help me, I am still not able to walk properly, it was really painful.” She said, looking at the woman.

“It is normal, when you do it again, it will be less and less painful, until all you can feel is the pleasure growing in your belly.” Her toes curled in excitement as she thought of going to bed again with her husband.

But it died as soon as a servant handed her a note, in his fancy handwriting, he stated that the two fulfilled their duties graciously, and now she should go back to her chambers. She felt the tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, what she might’ve done to offend the prince?

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N wandered alone through the halls, it’s been months since she had a proper talk with her husband, he was always too busy to be near her, so she would spend her days alone, reading, embroidering, sometimes alongside her dear sister Helaena, or having tea with the Queen.

It was in one of those afternoons that she felt something was wrong, the warmth in the Keep was too much to handle as she sipped her tea, the Queen was speaking with Helaena about the twins.

“Excuse me, Your Grace…” she said, suddenly feeling everything spin around her.

“Are you okay, sister?” The princess asked, noticing how much paler she looked, and the sweat coating her forehead.

Y/N couldn’t muster a response as the ring in her ears got too much and her body collapsed. She blinked, feeling the fresh air coming from the windows in the Queen’s room. She felt embarrassed as she noticed the Queen, some servants and a Meistre, all of them looking at her with worried eyes.

“Are you feeling well darling?” Queen Alicent asked, squeezing her hand.

“Yes, your Grace, perhaps it was the heat?” She inquired, her eyes landing on the man in front of her.

“I am afraid you are wrong, my Lady. You are with child.” The older woman smiled at her, leaning to hug her. She felt her whole body shaking, a child was a blessing, but how would she tell her husband, who doesn’t even acknowledge her, that he was going to be a father?

“This is great news, I am sure Aemond will be just as happy.” Alicent spoke, getting up and urging everyone to leave the room.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Come in!” The Prince answered, and Y/N pushed his chambers doors open. She gasped a little when he turned to her, she barely got to see him for months, and he was just as handsome as she remembered, this time, the eyepatch was discarded and his scars and the sapphire eye were on full display, he was beautiful. “What are you doing here?” He asked, starting to turn his back to her.

“I am with child.” She blurted and he stopped, his lilac eye looking at her, she walked closer, until she was right in front of him, she grabbed his hand, placing it on her belly. “You are going to be a father.”

“That is great, I am sure the King is very happy.” He said, walking backwards and removing his hand, the smile that tugged at her lips quickly vanished at his reaction.

“What about you? Are you happy, Lord Husband?” She inquired.

“I am thankful that we were able to do our parts in this court.” It was all he said. “I am busy, you should go back to your chambers.” It broke her heart hearing that, when his own was almost bursting out of his chest with happiness. She looked at him incredulously, tears sliding down her pretty face.

“Did I do something to offend you, Your Grace?” The pain was evident in her voice.

“Not at all.” His tone was dismissive.

“Do you love me?” She inquired, stepping closer to him once again.

“What?”

“Do you love me?” She repeated, louder and firmer this time.

“I am trying to protect you.” She looked hurt, and angry.

“Do you love me?”

“I cannot….. This conversation is leading no..” She interrupted him.

“Do you love me?” The question hit him hard, of course he loved her, more than anything, but all he did was out of love for her.

“Y/N, please. Stop!” He begged, she paced around the room, breathing heavily.

“Is it because you do not believe that I could love you?” She fixed her gaze on him once again, tears falling free from her eyes. “I do.” He almost repeated the words to himself, she loved him.

He looked at her without saying a word, not knowing what to even say, but she continued.

“I love you Aemond, in fact, I love you so much that I will do as you wish.” He looked at her confused. “If you do not love me, all you have to say is you do not love me, and I will go. I will go back to my chambers now, I will stop bothering you, I will go back to my life and we can have our separate lives and I will have this baby alone. But first, you have to say that you do not love me!”

She was sobbing, while she hugged her own body, shaking, all the sadness pouring from her soul.

“You have to tell me that I’m utterly alone in this world.”

He looked at her astonished, his heart ripping in half at her confession, how alone and isolated she must’ve felt all these months, he always thought he was doing the right thing, sparing her from having to be seen by his side, his lips parted and the words left his mouth before he could stop himself.

“I am a monster, everyone knows that, I don’t deserve you, you deserve better than this.” He pointed to the scar.

“Do you love me?” She asked again, tired.

“You do not wish a life with me for yourself.” He felt the tears in his own eye. “No one wishes that.”

“Aemond!” She protested. “I will stand with you between the heavens and earth, I will tell you every day that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, that your scar doesn’t scare me, and that I love you just like you are. “Her words were so pure, honest, that his heart jumped in his chest. “Do you love me?” She asked for the last time.

“I love you.” He shouted, so loud that his throat burned. “From the moment I saw you with Vaghar, I have loved you desperately, I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, Y/N. My heart calls your name.”

He couldn’t hold himself anymore, closing the distance between the two, he held her face in his hands, pulling her closer as he kissed her, her lips tasted like salt and cinnamon, and they were so soft against him, she held him too, afraid that he would disappear, that they would go back to that torment.

“I am so sorry for everything, I wanted to be with you, hold you in my arms everyday. But I could not, what they spoke, how they looked at us.” Y/N looked at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying.

“I do not care for any of them. All I care about is you, about us, and the family we have now.” He rested his hand on her belly.

“I heard them talking, the day before our wedding, I thought you agreed with them.” He confessed.

“You what?” She raised an eyebrow. “In fact, my love, after those nasty words about you, I threatened to feed her to Vaghar.” He looked at her, smiling as she traced the scar on his face.

“Perhaps I should take you flying to compensate for the time apart. As I remember how badly you wanted that.” He offered and she smiled brightly at him.

“It will be an honour, my Prince.”

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writingsbychlo · 2 years

Text

HOW TO SAVE A LIFE | rhysand

summary; trapped under the mountain, starfall has always been your favourite holiday and you miss it. tonight, this time, you have one opportunity to share it with someone.

word count; 5577

notes; starfall day 3!! but also, go easy on me, I didn't proofread this. it's like midnight here, I am exhausted, let's not judge obvious mistakes 😅 also, please note, this takes place UTM, and references to rhys' SA are alluded to, so read with caution!!

‘how to save a life’ moodboard

The corridors were utterly silent as you paced up and down. Back and forth, back and forth. Your eyes flickered to the shadows across the floor moving through the open windows, your only way of measuring how much time passed was with the moon’s manipulations. As the shadows encroached closer and closer to the small scuff you’d marked as your limit on the floor, you gave a heavy sigh.

Your thumb was in your mouth, chewing the nail anxiously, and as that thought came into focus, you removed it, scoffing idly at yourself. You weren’t in trouble. Yet. In fact, you could leave right now, and nobody would have even known it was you, you’d fly right under the radar, as you’d always done, and bring no attention to yourself.

Who were you kidding? You weren’t going anywhere. Not even as the ceaseless pounding of your heart threatened to crack your ribs, not even as the lingering fear in the back of your mind about what you’d already done to get here made you dizzy. You were waiting it out.

Your gaze flickered back to the silvery streaks pouring in through the window.

Time’s almost up.

You finally paused your pacing, staring down at it as darkness crept out of silver, marking your timer. You waited for a second longer, lifting the edge of your dress and poking at it with a scuffed shoe.

This is it.

You weren’t sure whether it was crushing relief or crushing disappointment weighing you down, that sank your shoulders into a slump that made you feel as though you were holding up the whole world. Shaking out a sigh and loosening your shoulders, that relaxation lasted for only a second, before a dark chuckle emanate from the shadows, and you were whipping around to peer into them.

You didn’t see him at first, gaping at the darkness until he stepped out, looking every bit like a devil dressed in finery. Purple eyes glowing in the moonlight, the sharp lines of his face like jagged peaks in the dark of the hall, tall and intimidating, with a sinister smirk sat on his lips.

“You, Little Mouse, are the one who called me here?” Like magic - well, with magic - the letter you’d scrawled in a hurry and slipped under his door mere hours ago appeared between his fingers. Scratchy, torn brown parchment, with other notes and lists and words scribbled out and crossed, reused over and over because it was all you had.

You steeled your nerves, rolling your shoulders back and tipping your chin up to look at him as he stepped close, close enough to smell the luxurious soap that had your head spinning once again. “I did.”

Your voice only trembled a little as you spoke, and you were proud to get the words out at all. You’d never been afraid of Rhysand, but at this moment, as all that big half-Illyrian warrior and High Lord stood before you, you’d be a fool not to be at least a little intimidated. “For what?”

He all but purred the words, smirk widening a little more, brows rising at you and his head cocked to the side.

“A bargain… a fuck… a good look at true power? What could you,” He cast a scornful and slow stare over your body, the torn rags you called a dress, the scuffed and scratched shoes, the messy hair and dirt under your fingernails that made you hide your hands behind your back. “Possibly want from me?”

Your mouth dropped open, words silenced as you tried to work out what to say to him, but his sneer made you second-guess yourself. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe everything you thought was wrong, maybe-

You didn’t get a chance to think any further, before the sound of pounding footsteps and angry voices bouncing off of the stone walls made every decision for you. If you were caught here, lowly and unworthy up in the higher courtrooms of the mountain palace, you’d be flogged for sure. Worse, they’d be sure to get the truth out of you, sure to get the truth of everything you’d done just to get here tonight.

For that, they’d kill you.

In a spur of boldness that you’d most likely come to regret, your arm shot out, saving him as well as yourself as your nimble fingers wrapped around his muscle-corded forearm. Even through heavy layers of expensive black silk shirts and embroidered blazers, you could feel him tense at the abrupt contact. Dragging him along behind you, you didn’t hesitate, weaving through corridors and pathways, past floor-to-ceiling windows and being sure to remain out of sight.

He spluttered behind you for the first few seconds, almost enough to pull a smile at your lips with the image of the terrifying Lord of Night spluttering, but your panic was far too high to even entertain that kind of thought right now. He yanked his arm free, a growl on his lips as your fingernails scratched at the soft fabric of his blazer, surely messing up some of the threads, but right now, your adrenaline was too high to be concerned with such trivial fears.

Everywhere you turned, voices could be hurried; hurried and panicked and frantic. Boots marched, people corralled out of their way, heels tapping and weapons scraping along the floor as they were dragged. A busy, busy night indeed.

All your fault, a voice taunted in your head, a tendril of regret finally making itself known as you fled. Despite it all, curiosity seemed to have gotten the best of Rhysand, because he was following you, despite your grip no longer being on him. He could have stopped you, even with all that dark power suppressed he would possess enough to freeze every cell in your body to his command with nothing but a wink, and yet, he didn’t.

His long legs carried him at more of a fast walk to your hurried run behind you, and you jerked with shock when you felt the sharp scratch of an icy talon, then two, then three, scratched down your thick mental barriers. You could feel a ripple of twisted fascination burst from him at encountering any walls at all, at someone who knew how to track and resist a daemati.

The tall doors at the end of your final corridor beckoned you forward, with intricate designs etched into the front, and thick wood that would hide you both on the other side. You’d already picked the locks, your feet finally slowing down as relief enough to make you almost collapse as you came to a halt before them. Twisting the knob with a prayer that nobody had somehow discovered your plan, locked them again to keep you out, a shaky laugh left you as the door creaked open with just a little pressure.

Nothing but inky darkness spilt out from inside, and you stepped into it, welcoming its cold embrace and its camouflage, its protection. He followed you in, stepping through with one graceful stride, and your back collapsed onto it to push it closed, a heavy sigh leaving you as your heart rate began to even back out at last. Now, you could barely make out the silhouette of him before you, but you could feel his presence all around, like a weighted blanket closing in.

His stare was even heavier, you didn’t need to see those violet eyes to feel the depth of them on you.

You smiled anyway, wondering if he could see you through the dark, another gift those lucky High Fae perhaps had that your lowly kind did not. Your steps were rehearsed, pacing across the room, acutely aware of where he was as he followed, just from the buzz of his leaking power on the air, all the way to the window at the far side of the room. Scraping back heavy curtains on either side of clear glass doors, you’d already picked those locks too in preparation.

Swinging the doors open and stepping out into milky moonlight on the terrace, you took your first real breath of fresh air in weeks, sighing happily at the cold breeze of the early-Spring night.

The curse trapping you both here shimmered before you, barely an inch from the edge of the stone, and you reached out, never touching it, never risking letting it tell of your true location, but hovering your hand before it, feeling the cruel zap in warning of Amarantha’s boundaries. Never to escape, never to leave, trapped here Under The Mountain.

Your peace was shattered by the rough, animal growl of the man behind you, patience audibly fraying.

“Alright, Little Mouse, I’ve played your game. But, you know how it ends when the cat catches the prey, so what do you want?”

Finally, you turned to face him, hands clenching once again behind your back, hoping this time it would hide the tremor as your intentions were finally to be revealed. “I want nothing.”

“Everyone wants something from me. So, what is it?” He stepped a fraction closer, a snarl curling on his lips, ugly power taking over a handsome face.

“Alright, fine.” You mused, stepping a footstep closer to him as well. “What I wanted… was for you to see the sky.”

He visibly faltered, for all the roles he played and the masks he wore, this one slipped for just a second, his eyes widening as though it was a riddle, brows furrowing even deeper, and scowl twisting to a frown of confusion. “Why?”

“Because it is Starfall tonight.”

This time, his mask didn’t just falter, it crumbled entirely, the façade coming crashing down around his feet as his jaw dropped. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, gaze flicking over you in an entirely new light now, eyes narrowing to assess you but no malice behind those pretty iris’ now. “You know of Starfall?”

“Of course. It is my favourite holiday.”

An unsteady breath rushed from him, like he’d taken a hit to the lungs, eyes widening as he stared. His shoulders slumped, rigid posture melting away until he looked positively world-weary, arms hanging by his sides. It was then that he wiped a hand over his face, realising a tired laugh, and you wrapped your arms loosely around yourself.

He didn’t recognise you, of course he didn’t you’d been counting on it for this plan to work. You just didn’t realise how cold and lonely actually having that fact acknowledged would make you feel. Rolling up one tatty sleeve of your dress to reveal swirls of blank ink beginning to climb up your forearm from your wrist, his eyes somehow seemed to widen further.

He took your wrist in his hand, your fingers tightening to a fist as a shocked gasp sounded, his touch like fire and warmth and comfort all in one as he gripped you firmly, but cautiously. Turning your arm over in his hold, he pushed your sleeve all the way up to your bicep, tracing the patterns with one fingertip, touch so light it made you shiver. Your bargain marks, messy and rough and ugly, just like the deals you’d had to strike which resulted in them.

“These… these are bargain marks. These are Night Court marks.” He traced again, thumb swiping over the pulse point on your wrist, feeling the race of it under the pad, before lowering the fabric back down to cover them again, and releasing your arm. “The marks of my court.”

His voice cracked, something within you shattering at the sound of it, and you choked down a well of thick emotion as you thought of home, for the first time in a very long while. One a whisper as broken as his voice had been, you uttered; “Yes.”

Too much weight in his stare, too many memories of a place you missed like a lost lover, too many bargains made here just to survive.

It was all so horrible.

“I didn’t know. I had no idea anyone from my court was here.”

There were questions loaded in that sentence. How did you get here? Why are you trapped? Who brought you? What was your reason? You wanted to answer them all, but at first, a single shrug was all that came to mind. It was so overwhelming, not only to be standing here, finally talking to the one person who could understand your longing for home, but to be standing here with your High Lord, someone you’d spent centuries admiring, decades pitying, and months plotting for.

This time, it was he who attempted a smile in comfort. It helped.

“I was travelling at the time. Seeing all of Prythian, and finding work wherever I could to find my adventure.” A horrible feeling you’d spent so long crying over worming its way back in.

You’d spent so long dreaming of getting away from the Night Court, to explore and see the rest of the continent, of the world, and now it was all you wanted to go back. To stay forever, curled up on the windowsill of a cosy apartment that overlooked the glowing lights of Velaris, close enough to hear the music from the Rainbow and hear the happy voices, watch the snow fall or bluebells sprout. You wanted it so badly it ached.

“At the time of…” You waved a hand, throat stinging as you wrestled with emotion, unable to even say the words of this foul curse aloud, even after centuries, “I was working for the Vanserra’s. No one important, as it had always been for me, but they always bring their own staff to the parties. In case you hadn't noticed, Beron is quite high-maintenance, and Eris is terribly paranoid and suspicious.”

A laugh burst from him, rough and grating and unsteady, like he hadn't used it in so long, but it blossomed something in your chest that you thought had died long ago.

“I was one of the lowly serving staff they brought with them that fateful night, to keep Lady Autumn’s glass filled with wine, so she’d never have to lift a single finger. Unfortunately, that meant that when they were trapped, I was too. All that wish for adventure. I got a little more excitement than I bargained for, I suppose.”

Silence settled, the story hanging between you like mist on the morning air, your head turning and gaze shifting to the twinkling stars overhead. Several minutes seemed to pass as he processed it all, and decided what to say next, a hand skimming your shoulder lightly, as though hesitant to dare touch you at all. “Why did you never come to me, before tonight?”

The laugh that tumbled from your lips was self-pitying and sad. Running your hands over the tatty skirt you wore, it felt obvious.

He was, arguably, beside Amarantha, the most important person here. You were nobody. He wore a new suit embellished with gold and silver, you wore a dirty dress that had more patches and sewing than the original fabric. He smelled of fresh soap and aftershave, you smelled of bleach from scrubbing the floors and cinders from the fireplaces. He slept in silk sheets on a big bed, all to himself, you’d been sharing a dormitory for ten years with scratchy bedding and broken mattresses.

And yet, you wouldn't trade with him for all the riches in the world. Your anonymity was all that protected you.

You were nobody. You meant nothing. But tonight, just tonight, you had the chance to be something.

“To what end? We’re both trapped, you have your role to play, and I have mine.”

His smile was as weak and empty as your laugh was. “It’s been ten years. I could have… I could have don’t something to help, made life easier for you, so that you weren’t so alone.”

There was a pain in his voice, a kind of ongoing struggle you’d come to terms with years ago, but it was like a fresh slice across sensitive skin for him. You reached out, hand hovering lightly over his arm, unsure whether or not it was your place. Then again, it was a barrier you’d already crossed in an adrenaline-fuelled panic. Settling your hand lightly onto his forearm, you squeezed gently, hoping it was as reassuring for him as you intended.

“I don’t know how-”

“It’s okay, truly.” Your throat bobbed, the informality of this whole situation was surreal, only the chill in the air, wind whistling through rips in threadbare fabric keeping you grounded. “I was never alone, it’s hard ever to be alone around here. It was just lonely.”

He hummed, a non-committal response, and his mind seemed elsewhere. A heavy sigh, and then his head tipped back, eyes moving to watch the motionless stars twinkle in the sky. It wasn’t until the third shaky breath and slight sniff, hands clenching by his side, that you realised he was choking back powerful emotions. For you.

“Please, don’t worry for me, my Lord.” Your hand swept comfortingly, twice, up and down his arms, that fist of that hand smoothed out when your fingers brushed his the pulse on his wrist. Words, hanging on the tip of your tongue, dangerous and risky and presumptive, but it felt like the two of you had far surpassed those kinds of barriers by now. “It looks far lonelier and far more hurtful at the Queen’s side than where I am.”

His head snapped back down, all that anguish temporarily banished from swirling violet eyes as he studied you once again. It was like a thousand thoughts flashing through his mind too fast for you to read in his eyes. Your lungs were frozen, burning for air but unable to take any oxygen in, eyes wide and body locked as you waited. He was putting something together, he knew, his lips pressing into a thin line and you didn’t know whether this would flip it all over wrongly.

His head cocked to the side, licking over one lip, before the edges of his lips were flickering at the edges, just slightly.

“It was you.”

“What was me?” You’d always been a bad liar, gaze flicking away from his and it was your turn now to let the stars distract you. A talon, scraping at your mental shields again, a warning that he could if he wanted to, break through and you’d never even know. Instead, a single finger hooked under your chin, turning your face back to him.

“It was you. You, who suddenly unearthed this mysterious prophecy about the human girl breaking the curse. You, who has Amarantha on such a wild goose chase that she has no time for… me. At least, not for a while.” He looked awed now, a reassured expression, and his hand slipped from your chin up, to cup your face. Your throat was tight, painfully so, the simple bit of affection making your eyes water and the truth poured from you in a nod. “You were so scared in the halls, pacing and fretting before I even got there. Your fear was heavy in the air. When you heard the voices and the footfalls, you fled. It was you.”

“It was me.” His breath raced from him, lips parted, and you raised your own hand. Holding his to your face, you stole a few selfish seconds, head tipping further into his palm as his thumb swept over your cheekbone; a few sacred moments of comfort. “Buying you a few hours to yourself on this night was the least I could do, my Lord. You may not have known I was here, but some of your actions, the small mercies you disguise as cruelties, have done more for me than you could ever know.”

“Call me Rhysand. Please.” He was fighting tears, much the same as you were, and his other hand joined the first, holding your face up to his own as he stepped a little closer. The warmth from his body was like a magnet you, swayed toward him, the moonlight glowing on his skin like it was made to decorate him and him alone. “At least… at least, when we’re alone. I don’t want to be anything but myself with you. You see me. You’re the only person down here who does..”

You didn’t have to force a smile anymore. It was the first one that felt honestly genuine in years. His thumbs swept a couple more times, before his arms were shaking with restraint, and he pulled them away. Silence settled around you both. With one more glance at the stars, your arms wrapped around yourself, and you turned back to him. “Enjoy the stars, Rhysand.”

There would be nothing to see, no falling stars and souls finding their way. But, just knowing that it was happening out there, watching these ones stay still and twinkle gently, it was enough to feel connected to home, just for a little while. Stepping away from him, the loneliness creeping back up already felt suffocating, like ice water ready to drag you into the darkness and the depths.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your own, firm but gentle, insistent but pleading. “Please- please, don’t go. Stay with me. Spend Starfall with me?”

It was an offer like you could only dream of, to spend Starfall with someone else once again, someone who knew. You had no idea how to say yes, mouth hanging open, but he seemed to get the gist, lips curling into a real smile now. Not the cruel grin he wore every day, not the cocky smirk. This was real, this was beauty and emotions and trust.

“Yes?”

“Yes. I would like that.” This opportunity could never happen again, and so you weren’t going to let it just fly past like a misguided star. He tugged you back a little closer, letting your hand go when you fell into place by his side, and his body dropped any remaining tension. He rested his hands on the railing, cautious not to touch that barrier of the curse, and tapping the space beside him for you to join.

You did, the two of you staring out quietly at the vast lands, the bright skies, the empty space; nobody ever dared near the centre of the horrid curse killing the lands.

“I miss the grass.”

“I have a friend… a brother, who has terrible allergies. Even a speck of pollen, and he’s sneezing and eyes running.” A wistful look took over his features, amusement and nostalgia crackling under the surface. “It’s quite the sight to see a warlord sneeze and curse at a flower.”

Your mind followed, reeling a little as the puzzle pieces clicked into place. “General Cassian… has hay fever?”

“Don’t tell him I told you, he’d string me up by my boxers from the pillars of the moonstone palace.” The sounds of your laughter bounced off of the stony sides of the mountain, echoes disappearing into the tonight, mixed with his deep chuckles. A kind of harmony formed, peace, a small bubble of a happy memory like a light amongst so much darkness. You’d look back on this moment for years, possibly decades to come, relishing in the way it felt to smile again, to have companionship and real happiness, even if it didn’t last long. “I miss the smell of the Sidra just after it rains.”

“I miss watching the snow fall at Solstice.”

“I miss the way it would feel after the snow melted, that first truly warm day.”

It somehow became a game, swapping back and forth, each thing you missed. Some were funny, others nostalgic, some were his royal experiences that made his cheeks heat and sweet chuckles leave his lips when you teased him, others had the same experience on you.

The conversation shifted, he asked you all about your travels, told you of his favourite places he’d seen in different courts, and asked you if you’d ever been there. He told you stories about all of his adventures, as you did for him, watching the moon slowly inching its way across the dark sky as you confided in one another, all your deepest pain and joy and excitement. He told you about his friends, the shadow singer, the general, the terrifying creature from another world. He was so passionate, he loved so deeply, that by the time he’d finished, you felt as though you knew them too, like you loved them too.

Then, when your cheeks ached and your stomach was sore from all the laughing, when every happy memory had been shared, reality set back in once again.

“I miss home.”

“Me too.” With your simple response, his gaze fixed once again above your heads, so far away and yet you longed to be there.

“It's- it’s just so godsdamned nice, that just one person knows I’m not a villain.” His words startled you, a fresh batch of pain, something deep and primal exposed like an open wound right to the heart. When you turned to face him, he was staring at the stars, but soft trails of moonlight trickled in fat tears down his cheeks. “Sometimes, so many days pass by where I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, where I can’t even bear the sound of my own name, knowing the way it’ll go down in history. This, this night, your company and your kindness, it makes it feel worth it. That just one person will not hate me, for the rest of my life, makes it feel like it's enough.”

When he finally faced you, wet cheeks and red eyes and exposed vulnerability, you gave him the same comfort he’d given you. With hands on his cheeks to wipe away those tears, you gave your best smile, letting his head hang heavily in your palms for a while. “You’ll never be the villain in my story, Rhysand.”

His lip wobbled, and he twisted his head, lips brushing your palm as he pressed a series of fragile, trembling kisses there. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your shiver wasn’t from the cold, but from his blatant affection. At the act, however, his pained look became dismayed, glancing over your thin attire with disappointment. He stood, reluctantly peeling your hands from his face long enough to slide down the large blazer he wore, and slipping it over your shoulders. When he pulled the lapels tightly around your body, the plush lining, still filled with his body heat, was like wrapping up in front of the fireplace, on the very rare occasions you could steal a minute to do so.

With a roll of his shoulders, those magnificent wings you’d only ever seen from afar were visible, appearing before your very eyes as though from thin air, as though they’d always been there, only veiled, and you stared unabashedly in amazement.

Stepping closer, until you were so close your breath bounced off of his chest and you could pick out the threads in his shirt, he wrapped them around you, sealing out cold wind and the rest of the world.

“Better?”

“Better.” You whispered, and his resulting look of pride warmed you as much from the inside as he did from the outside. After only a brief moment of consideration, you freed one arm, looping it slowly around his waist. When he only tugged you closer, your other arm joined it. Settling your cheek against his shoulder, he moulded his body to your arm, thick arms wrapping around your body in return, sealing you to him in a hug neither of you intended to let go from any time soon.

His lips traced the top of your head as he turned, a few kisses dotted affectionately along your hairline, drawing happy sighs from you each time. When his head dipped a little further, lips near your temple, it was to quietly murmur, “Would you like to see the stars falling?”

You pulled back, barely a fraction as he refused to let you go at all, but enough to stare up at him. “How?”

“I still have a little of my powers, such as hiding these magnificent wings.” His smirk was positively feline, the nosey Lord having pulled that tidbit from your mind, and warmth raced to your cheeks. “I can show you some of my memories from previous years, if you trust me?”

Another tap of claws on your walls, a soft stroke like a finger over your skin, and you lowered your shields slowly to allow him inside. As soon as you did, you could feel him everywhere. Swarming in your thoughts, filling your head like you were both in there, and giving as much of his feelings away as it did yours. You could feel the relief at knowing someone else’s touch, that lingering guilt for not having known you but the borderline bliss at being here right now. The elation, at being trusted. The joy of having someone to share home with.

Your eyes fluttered closed on his command, as he began to play the memories over.

Glimpses of parties, of stars and fireworks and sequins and fancy dresses. Twirling and dancing, intoxicated fun, and when you saw Azriel or Cassian or Mor, you felt his love for them like you’d feel your own. It was like seeing it through your own eyes. In this memory, he was making his way through the palace, the House of Wind atop the mountain.

You’d seen drawings and pictures, of course, glimpsed it from afar on clear days, but nothing had ever compared to these real images of seeing the palace home. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Tall pillars and columns made of marble and moonstone, carved and designed with intricate swirls and stories. Open balconies, large rooms, enough space that it would take you days to learn your way around, and that was just the small glimpses of it you could see now.

Eventually, he made it to the balcony, one hand braced on the stone as he stared out across Velaris down below, so far and tiny and beautiful, a vibrant ache in your heart as you longed to be back there, one that matched in his own through the connection you’d forged.

You watched on, as his attention turned to the sky, to the falling stars, glittery and soaring and so close. So colourful up close, you’d never seen such a sight, like being immersed within the colour, becoming a part of nature temporarily, leaving you breathless and high on the feeling.

You watched and watched, as he once had, what felt like hours slipping by until it came to an end, and your cheeks felt wet when you finally felt him pull back from your mind. Not entirely, no, a piece of him was still lingering there behind your consciousness, a comforting weight, but your senses were all back, like your spirit had sunk back into your body.

“Thank you for showing me that.”

“Incredible, isn’t it?”

“That stars,” you breathed, “I’ve never seen it so clearly. They were so close, like you could just reach out and touch them.”

He wiped away your tears with one arm, the other still sealed tightly around you, soon to be rejoined. “You can, and when we get out of here someday, I’ll show it to you. I’ll show you so much, give you so much.”

There was nothing else to say, no more words that could fathom this feeling. But, you didn’t need them. You knew that he knew, his presence in your mind was sure to trace it. So, instead, you just snuggled in closer, cheek on his shoulder once again, and eyes sliding closed as you let yourself sink fully into his embrace.

He needed this as much as you did, a two-way street now opened between your minds, and a selfish part of you hoped he never took it away, that even when you were alone, you’d never be lonely again. That fraction of darkness in your mind flickered, as if making a promise.

“Why? Why did you do this for me?” He eventually asked, the question that had been hovering all night. “When I have done nothing for you?”

“Because, Rhysand, I have seen you from afar. You’ve seemed so empty, lately. I wanted to give you something to remind you to hold on.”

He’s breathless, you could feel it under your own thudding heart as his pulse raced and he panted softly into your hairline, trying to settle. “Someday, I’ll take you home. Back to Velaris, where we belong. I’ll make up for everything you’ve had to go through. You’ll never want for anything, you’ll never be alone again. But, while we’re still here, I’ll make up for these ten years I’ve missed already. What can I do, what do you want first?”

“Those are beautiful promises, Rhysand, and I appreciate them, but I don’t need them. All I want, all I need, is a friend. To not be so alone.”

“Never again, darling. Never again, will I let you be alone. It’s me and you, now.” He squeezed you in, another kiss to the top of your head, and you pressed into it, leaving a single kiss to his jaw in return. “Happy Starfall, darling.”

“Happy Starfall, Rhysand.”

#rhysand x reader #rhysand/reader #rhysand x you #rhysand/you #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar/reader #acotar/you #rhysand #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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dancing-with-draegons · 2 months

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Poison From the Same Vine

pt. 1

pairing: Larys Strong x reader/OC (she/her pronouns, no names, no descriptions)

summary: Larys has found his match in a shrewd and ruthless widow with a taste for spying, intrigue and poison. A battle of wits and worse ensues. Sexual tension.

warnings: talk of murder, poison play, intrigue, hints of NSFW, dark

word count: 2.4k

There was no man who could stand up to Larys Clubfoot, sneaky and treacherous as he was. But there was a woman who could. She was thrice widowed, with a dangerous sort of beauty that should warn men of the dangers that lay in her alluring eyes, her blood red lips, underneath her silken skin.

But men were fools and she liked to draw them in, and ruin them.

For the longest time, she had played her own game: a dead husband here and there, an obedient lover, an obsessed knight. But when she had come to the Red Keep, the stakes had grown, and she with them.

Men liked to tattle, women liked to share the gossip they had picked up on during the day, and the widow of Blackcrown shares her bed with them, her wine or friendship, whatever was required to hear what she needed to hear.

In time, she had drawn the eye of a prince, and his desire protected her better than any armour.

Larys Clubfoot wanted her gone, but a prince’s whore could be as powerful as a queen and she had long made her throne in Aegon's bed, and Tyland’s, and a dozen others.

Did Larys loathe her for the power she held? Did he lie awake at night and dream of besting her, like she did?

He was the one person at court whom she could not win over, the one man who proved invincible to her charms.

Sometimes, he would come to haunt her in her chambers, always giving some threadbare excuse to threaten her, or goad her. And so he had come today, to speak of soldiers and whores.

“You are a shrewd man, Lord Larys,” she said, without any regard for his threats, “though few will ever see that. But you pay your spies in silver or gold – and I have a purse you cannot match.”

She traced his cheekbone with one long finger.

He followed her with his eyes, grey like cruel midwinter frost.

“It seems an…affliction has befallen many of those who have frequented the street of silk of late,” he said, and although his face was a mask of pity and his voice carefully inflected to suggest the same, she realised that this was his great moment of triumph and the true reason he had come here today.

“An affliction.”

“A disease caught from some concubine, no doubt. Many of those women hail from the Free Cities and the uncivil lands beyond.”

“It does give one occasion to pause and contemplate our construct of civility, does it not?”

“Indeed.” He inclined his head. “For now, my prayers are with the afflicted. Such a terrible pox befalls them. Many are disfigured afterwards, if they survive the disease, that is.”

“I understand why you must empathise with those poor souls. But let their fate not burden you overmuch, my lord.”

“I shall heed your counsel, my lady. Only the most depraved fall victim to it, or so word has it.”

“So it begins. Yet, if it should befall those of gentler birth, of the gentlest birth – why, I am certain the origin of this disease will be found and uprooted.”

Larys Strong only smiled. He was not fool enough to spread the disease to Aegon's brothels. And yet…was there a way to limit the spreading? If so, she needed to find it, and quickly, or else her business would soon run dry. Larys seemed to believe that she opened her legs to any man she asked for a favour, and good for her he did.

But it was the promise of her cunt that moved many a man to do as she pleased. With a pox as terrible and dangerous as that, not only would she herself be at risk, no, the promise of coin would lure more men than her smile.

“I do pity the whores,” Larys said, and there was little of his usual softness remaining, “how will they earn their keep when their purses…run dry?”

“A dry whore is as useful as wet firewood,” she agreed amiably.

Larys Strong had no taste for the whores on the street of silk. He preferred his bed warmer crowned and reluctant. And when the queen was indisposed, rumour had it his tastes were perverse and strange, and those women that had to satisfy him never talked to anyone again.

She knew what he liked.

As she leant against the table and stretched out her legs, the hem of her gown rode up to reveal her slippered feet.

It was a dare.

Larys looked down on cue, and for a moment, his eyes rested on what she had bared to him.

No stockings. That alone was scandalous.

Her slippers were velvet, soft and clinging like a lovers’ embrace, and left much of her feet bare.

Her ankles were just visible underneath the hem of her gown.

When he looked up at her again, he was smiling.

“Those women are never out of tricks, though,” she said.

“Cheap tricks.”

Larys did not look down again but she sensed that he wanted to. And he wanted to do more.

Her obvious seduction attempt had shifted something between them.

And now, when he wanted to subdue her, he would think about ways that would be gratifying for him.

~o~

“Lord Larys.” She welcomed him into her chambers. “You bring happy tidings, I trust.”

“Indeed. It seems the Silk Street pox has vanished as quickly as it came.“

It had indeed, and turned out not have been a pox at all but a concoction made by some northern witch. A few drops had been enough to make boils appear and hearts slow, and soon enough, the panic that had followed had ferried some more poor souls to the Stranger.

She had caught wind of at all not in the city, but here, when a vial had been attached to a scroll for Lord Larys. He had taken great pains to hide it, her little lover had said, and had succeeded in doing so even from the maester, yet not from him. She had bedded him in return, but by morning, the boy had fallen down the serpentine steps and broken his neck. She considered herself innocent on that front. Larys was thorough, and it had been folly to observe him so obviously. She loathed to lose faithful informers, but he had tasted the sweet nectar of her cunt and oftentimes men became less loyal after that particular promise was fulfilled, so all in all it was no loss she couldn't cope with. There were two score where the page had come from, and there was a never ending supply of foolish, cuntstruck men.

The only exception stood before her.

“How wonderful,” she said and gave Larys' her most seductive smile. “We must drink to that.”

She led him to the table in the centre of the room, then slowly poured a fine Arbor vintage into two cups.

Larys had followed her to the table without a hint of suspicion in his eyes. Did he desire her already? Had he come not only to bring her these tidings and find out what she knew but to see her, smell her, maybe taste her?

He plunged his hand into the folds of his doublet but not to open the clasps, she realised with some disappointment, when he produced a ring.

It was an ugly thing, with a thick band made of yellow gold and set with a large, square onyx. She knew it well: her first husband had once given it to her as a nameday gift.

“Have you by any chance seen this ring before?”

She took it carefully and examined it, saw where the stone had been filed down to hide the carving it had once borne, the ill-fitting seams of the heavy gold band where it had been widened.

That had been done at Oldtown ten years ago. She doubted the jeweller was still in business, it had been a small, dinghy little shop far away from the cobbled main street. Not even Larys could know.

“I cannot say I have. Is it yours?”

Larys smiled. “It was found in the pocket of a soldier.”

“No doubt he stole it.”

“He sings a different song.” Larys' pale grey eyes were trained on her.

“A bawdy one, no doubt.”

“Not so much, no. And won't ever again, I'm afraid.”

“Poor creature.”

She seized the cups to offer him one, but froze as her fingers wrapped around the brass.

Had the right one not been closer to the edge of the table? And the other one had been further away from the pitcher.

She turned to look at Larys, whose eyes still rested on her. He looked calm, very pleased.

Had he switched the cups?

It made no matter. The antidote was in her pocket, and smeared over her lips.

If he thought he could trick her this easily, he would soon have to reconsider.

She gave him the right cup, then raised the left.

“To justice.”

He replied in kind, and drank deeply. She did the same.

The wine was sweet and heavy. She drank again, to prove a point.

“A good vintage,” she said and licked her lips until the antidote coated her tongue bitter and waxy, with an odd sort of aftertaste.

He nodded and took a measured sip.

“I have come to request your aid,” he said, slowly.

“You flatter me, my lord. How could I, a lonely widow, possibly help the Lord of Harrenhal?”

There was no man who looked at her like Larys Strong. His eyes were soulless and cold, his gaze unwavering, never lustful or heated, always intense, always calculating.

“Maester Mellos was quite troubled. He had found that his study had been broken into.”

Ice flooded her veins.

“The door is rarely locked, I heard.”

“Indeed. Are you not curious how he knew someone had entered without his leave?”

Her heart beat furiously in her chest.

“I had thought you would enlighten me momentarily, my lord.”

“Something was stolen.”

“How terrible.”

She blinked. The light of the candles was strangely blinding.

“A rare poison.” His voice was a seductive whisper.

“Not deadly, I hope.”

Her voice sounded breathless.

“Very, I fear. It heightens the senses at first, quickens the heartbeat. It is most…stimulating for a while as the blood flow is increased. And then, after a few hours, the heart gives out.”

“How gruesome.”

A treacherous throbbing began to spread between her legs.

“In the Free Cities, they call it Widowmaker. Many a wife has found her husband dead after coupling. Did not your first husband's heart give out one night?”

“A horrible tragedy. I still remember how the light went out of his eyes that night, as we made love. But he was an old man, and liked ale and venison overmuch.”

“Mh.”

Larys considered her for a moment. “The poison was not all that was stolen, however.”

“No? A greedy thief.”

“There was another vial Maester Mellos found missing. It had been erroneously labelled as an antidote to the Widowmaker poison.”

“That is a curious mistake to make.”

“Do you not wish to know what that second vial contained instead?”

“Of course.”

“Mainly beeswax,” he replied, “mixed with something quite revolting, if you catch my meaning.”

She took a swallow of wine as the first wave of lust took hold of her body.

Larys smiled.

“I remember you saying you came to ask for my help.”

“Yes,” his voice was soft, almost a caress, and it stroked something inside her. She needed this man between her legs, she needed his hands, his tongue, his cock.

Her laboured breath filled the silence for a moment, as he took in the effect of his workings with unhidden delight.

“To justice, you toasted. I have come to ask which punishment you consider fit for this thief.”

“Have you found him then?”

Larys took a step towards her, then rested his hands on his cane. “I am drawing closer.”

“Good.”

“It is customary for a thief to lose their hand, and for a liar to lose their tongue.”

“Mayhaps they could put both to good use, though.”

She opened the first clasp of her overgown. The chemise underneath was thin, almost translucent. Larys’ eyes dropped to the neckline but there was little interest in his gaze.

She raised the hem of the gown.

“Mayhaps,” Larys agreed. “Though there must be some form of punishment.”

“I suppose the Lord Confessor has other ways of punishment? Less….bloody?”

His grip tightened on his cane, the only indicator that he was not as calm as he pretended to be.

“Certainly. To break a man's spirit – or a woman's – can be just as…righteous as to break her bones.”

His voice…cruel, hard, and yet so soft. She rubbed her thighs together to calm the pulsing desire between her legs but to no avail. Larys watched eagle-eyed, his lips slightly parted in a smile, the wet tip of his pink tongue softly caressing his lower lip.

“Some do not break easy though, I trust.” Though she no longer felt invincible. She would die within a few hours, poisoned by what she had given her first husband the night he'd chosen to bed a chambermaid instead of her.

There was some justice in that, she supposed, and the sort of bitter irony she could appreciate.

What she could not appreciate was the way the poison began to cloud her judgement and take over her body. She had long wanted him to want her, wanted to drive him mad with desire, and now he had turned the tables on her with alarming ease.

“All break eventually,” he said, gazing at her curiously, “Though of course, should the thief have accidentally sampled the poison, thinking the antidote is at hand, the thief will not give me a lot of time to get a confession.”

“The antidote. I trust Maester Mellos still holds on to it?”

“He thought it best that I store it safely, just in case the thief makes another attempt.”

“And you keep it in a secret hideaway, I suppose.”

“No.” Larys raised the other cup, the clean cup, to his lips and took a measured sip as he made her wait for the answer she needed. “I have it on me.”

It took her a moment to understand his meaning. Then her hands went to the second clasp of her gown.

#larys strong x oc #larys strong x reader #fanfiction #hotd fanfic

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eris-eveningstar · 2 months

Text

Chapter 17 fic excerpt

I'm literally too impatient. The day after posting day is my writing break damn it, but NOOOO I just have to feel so motivated to write the ball that I accidentally end up writing 2k. 'Accidentally.'

Ok so you guys are gonna get super lucky today. I'm being so generous with you all. Here is an excerpt!

─── • ⋄ ⋅⚡️⋅ ⋄ • ───

Tom's heart froze in his chest.

His darling omega was a vision.

He'd seen him from behind, and he did a double take. His hair was a bit longer, curled and styled, yet it was the same shade as a raven's wing, and no amount of pomade could ever take away the wildness of those locks. He recognized him immediately. After all, how could he not recognize the slope of curves he'd touched and held so many times? The shade of that sun-kissed skin? Or the figure he'd felt against his so often?

And then, Harry turned, and Tom's breath was stolen away.

Good lord, he thought. He'd never known true beauty before today. The concept of it simply untrue without the vision of Harry's beauty to cement it.

If he thought Harry was alluring during their dalliance in Diagon Alley—a time he often recalled fondly, and perhaps a little too closely with a pensieve and his hand near a very pleasurable place—then, well, he was a fool.

This outshined it all.

Harry grinned brilliantly, and Tom's eyes narrowed in on his mouth. The colour of his lips was deep red, a shade akin to blood, and Tom couldn't help but wonder what sounds his dearest would make if he leaned down now and stole those tempting lips, plundering the caverns of Harry's mouth with his tongue and pulling him closer by his waist.

But it wasn't simply his mouth. Tom basked in the loveliness of his omega's nymph-like form, and dark eyes narrowed in on his makeup. It accentuated his allure and brought out the emerald gleam of his eyes, and without his glasses, he looked simply, well, enchanting.

And the glitter, oh Merlin. The glitter. What Tom wouldn't do to figure out how far it went.

Golden flecks glittered against Harry's skin like a divine temptation—on his cheeks, eyes, neck, and collarbones. Tom wished to lave his tongue against the sinful stretch of Harry's shimmering, petite collarbones and make his lover shiver and twist.

And then he noticed his dear Harry's neck. Truly, he was a gift presented before him. A black ribbon was tied in a bow on Harry's neck, and Tom wanted to undo it slowly, teasingly, while Harry turned into goo in his hands. Or perhaps he would grab it and watch as Harry's head was forced back as Tom took his pleasure?

Instead, he settled for this.

He held out his hand, palm first as was tradition, and in a half-bow, he greeted his dearest in a way far more formal than their relationship dictated. Tom smirked, the masses would surely eat this up. The Chosen One and Lord Slytherin, seen getting along? Well, Tom wasn't unaware of what that would do for his currently stellar image, but it didn't matter as much as finally seeing his omega in the flesh.

"Greeting, Heir Potter-Black. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I am Lord Thomas Slytherin."

Softly, Harry's hand curled against his, and Tom gave a secretive wink. Tradition dictated that he would kiss the omega on the back of the hand, but instead.... Tom turned Harry's hand around, and, slowly, his plush lips landed sinfully on the flesh of Harry's wrist.

#tomarry #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarrymort #harrymort #voldemort #fanfiction #fanfic #as you fall to the depths of desire #fandom #fic excerpt #chapter 17 is gonna be GREAT

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thegrimalldis · 4 months

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Maximilian: The Wedding - Part Three

𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠| 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬| 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 |

Transcript under the cut

[Xavier]: You look like you can use this more than me.

[Eleanor]: I think I made a mistake.

[Xavier]: Honestly, you're not the first royal bride to say that.

[Eleanor]: What have I married into?

[Xavier]: A circus. A very extravagant circus.

[Maximilian]: Were you ever going to tell me?

[Luna]: Tell you what, Your Highness?

[Maximilian]: Don't Luna. Don't do that. Is it...is it mine?

[Luna]: No, Alexander is the father.

[Maximilian]:...

[Luna]:...

[Maximilian]: You're lying.

[Luna]: You don't know that.

[Maximilian]: I know you. You can't lie to me.

[Luna]: What good would the truth be anyway? We both made our choices and we didn't choose each other.

[Maximilian]: I have a right to know! You shouldn't have kept this from me. My own child!

[Luna]: What would you have done? Huh? Call off the wedding? Announce to the entire world that we had an affair and the baby is yours?

[Luna]: That would scandalize not just your family but mine and the Stenhams.

[Maximilian]: I...

[Luna]: Nothing would have changed for us, Max. You know in your heart that's true. We are just their puppets.

[Luna]: No one can ever know. It's for the best.

[Maximilian]: For them?

[Luna]: For your son.

[Maximilian]: I wish...you would have gotten on that plane.

[Luna]: I told you, no one in the Lapré family ever marries for love.

[Maximilian]: What happens now?

[Luna]: Nothing.

[Stacy]: Your Majesty, it seems we are missing both the Crown Prince and Princess.

[Morana]: Which Princess?

[Stacy]: The bride, Ma'am.

[Morana]: Yes, the bride. Proceed with the fireworks. That will distract our guests.

[Maximilian]: We are missing the fireworks.

[Eleanor]: I don't care.

[Maximilian]: What's wrong, Eleanor?

[Eleanor]: Today was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives and yet...you barely smiled once.

[Maximilian]:...

[Eleanor]: All those times you left for Melide...you were visiting the Duchess of Valencia. Weren't you?

[Maximilian]: Where did you get that from?

[Eleanor]: Just answer the question, Max. Please.

[Maximilian]: I swear to you, it's over.

[Eleanor]: I'm such a fool.

[Maximilian]: Please, I want this to work between us. I...I need this to work.

[Eleanor]: All of it was a lie. Every moment between us.

[Maximilian]: No, I care for you so much. You have to believe me.

[Maximilian]: I never wanted to hurt you.

[Eleanor]: Is the baby yours?

[Maximilian]:...

[Eleanor]: I think I'm going to be sick.

[Maximilian]: I'm so sorry.

[Eleanor]: Do you...do you even love me?

[Maximilian]: Please, don't ask me that.

[Eleanor]: I hate you!

[Morana]: They told me you are planning to delay your coronation.

[Helena]: I am. At least until we handle this...situation with Lord Montgomery.

[Morana]: You are your grandfather's heir.

[Morana]: With your father's indiscretions coming to light, it's best that we push the coronation sooner. The people need a distraction.

[Helena]: Did you know about the affair?

[Morana]: Of course not. Your mother came to me shortly after the wedding.

[Helena]: And what did you tell her?

[Morana]: I told her, as one day you will have to tell someone you love...

[Morana]: Divorce in this family can never be an option.

#ts4 story #ts4 screenshots #ts4 bts #ts4 legacy #ts4 storytelling #the sims 4 story #the sims 4 screenshots #the sims 4 bts #the sims 4 legacy #the sims 4 storytelling #ts4 roleplay #ts4 edit #ts4 simblr #sims 4 #the sims 4 #ts4 screenies #sims 4 screenies #ts4 family #maximilian

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twistedbloodstain · 1 year

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vincent de gramont x assistant!reader: if my wishes came true it would've been you | a glimpse of the marquis.

plot: the one where the marquis isn’t so sure about you.

warnings: stalking, slight mention of violence, more stalking, staring, soft ooc marquis, invasion of privacy

masterlist

vincent de gramont. the marquis. unforgiving. determined. capable.

he is a man that exudes power by simply waving his hand or by the snap of his fingers. he does not need anyone. not when he has all the power and influence of an entire country. all he needs is himself, no one else. people are a liability, because of what we can feel for them. the moment you let them in. you start to do things that you shouldn’t, but you do it anyway for the mercurial high of their company. but in fact they don’t bring you up, they bring you down. of course, the marquis doesn’t do such practices, he can’t risk such vulnerability, if he is vulnerable then he is weak and the world be fucking damned before he let’s what he feel for someone tear him down.

a pessimist mindset. yes but why does it matter? he can’t even name someone who cares for him, at least someone who isn’t paid to do it. they don’t want his company, they want his money and power that he exercises over this world. the men want his coin and the women want the same or a night of pleasure, he might welcome that invitation if he isn’t busy enough.

there are three kinds of people in the world. those who have something to live for, those who have something to die for, and those who have something to kill for.

“oh, oh…poor vincent de gramont. who would search for him if he went missing? who would mourn his rotting corpse as it’s buried six feet underground?”

a mockery and threat of a rising drug lord when he had refused the terms of a deal. it annoyed him, as much as he didn’t expect it to get into his head. because why would he need to have that? soon he had the fool’s tongue pulled out by one of his men, he doesn’t let such insignificant things occupy his mind. but to answer his question there is one who would.

his assistant. that’s who, mildly amused with that thought. if i paid her more than enough my procession would be like the queen of fucking england. ironically, because his assistant falls into the three kinds of people and wants his money. at least she actually works for it. for once, the wages he’d given were actually worth her value, they weigh the same in a scale and he doesn’t feel forced to pay her that much because she gets the job done with exquisiteness.

when he’d first hired her, he thought she might be too good to be true. either she was a bragging and incompetent woman or a vying fusspot whose words are truthful. he doesn’t mind a perfectionist as long as she gets the job done. however good she might portray her character to him, he was still cautious around her.

this could be a calculated spy sent out take everything from me. if so, she might as well bloody think again. no one can rob me of what’s mine.

possible threats imagined or real must be carefully and quickly dealt with. so the first two months she works for him, he keeps his eyes on her. he has her followed to her home, which isn’t so bad but not really to his taste. but since she rarely gets home to manage personal matters with the endless pile of work he’s tasked her with there’s not much to be reported to him. just the mundane life of his assistant and her cat. he also has her background checked and it’s nothing malicious, truly just someone whose motives are sincere and harmless.

but it’s not enough. there has to be something. when she isn’t in her home, she’s in his mansion. the lavish and spacious place that always seems to awe her.

2:00 AM

a pair of guards open the large decorated chunky door for him, he struts through. quite exhausted from his previous affair that took several hours, something about an assassin getting out of the fold. he checks his watch and a slight scowl appears on his face, annoyed that meeting has taken too long for a good night’s sleep. he had a big day tomorrow, hordes of meetings and an opera in the afternoon. he’ll have to get up early if he wants to witness the entire spectacle.

“bring the car tomorrow around 6 AM and move the meeting with Allaire around-” vincent orders but pauses when he realizes the click of your heels were no longer heard in his ears.

he turns around and sees you motionless. you were occupied with gazing at the new painting that had arrived earlier that morning. he could sense the gears in your head turning, taking in the artistic beauty of the masterpiece. he wonders if just like him you appreciate historic works of art that preside in The Louvre or perhaps you like a more architect approach-

christ. what is he thinking, he’s not even sure of who they are and he’s interested in a pastime she might have? he swallows that thought down and buries it behind his mind.

by the sudden snap of his fingers, he snaps you out of your gaze. you face him rattled and a slight worry occupies your face when you realize you’ve been caught slacking.

“i’m so sorry sir. that won’t happen again, what time did you want the car brought?” you immediately apologize, saving your excuses from him. still bashful from the ogling you’ve done, you don’t meet his stare.

he knows you’re just as tired as him, you’ve been stuck with him for the entire day, organizing his schedule and arranging appointments. he decides to not chastise her for the momentary indolence and let it pass. although he is partly pleased you still try to keep your wits sharp and alert. christ, what in the world is he saying? it must be the lack of sleep, yes that’s it.

“bring the car tomorrow around 6 AM and move the meeting with Allaire around 7:30 AM. lastly, get up early. i have an important matter for you to attend to.” vincent says again, much more firmly this time with a harsh tone, a slightly futile attempt since his voice partly falls flat from fatigue.

“yes sir.” you answer straight away, jotting down what he just said into that little purple notebook.

he turns away from you and walks away to his room.

he has her spied in the mansion. every movement she makes in his home is reported by the guards and staff. rather unfortunate with the latter, since you’ve grown close with some of the staff and half of them inform you of your activities. what they’d reported was not what he was looking for. just filled with casual personal stuff and ventures he’d ordered you to do.

with all that extensive efforts settled, he feels somewhat assured that she won’t turn against him. now he just needs to keep her on his side, and to sense any form of betrayal that might cook while she’s in his employ. he instructs his men to halt from following her home but still let’s the staff inform him of her bustle from time to time. how does he keep her on his side? pressure and observation.

he gives her labors that are sometimes beyond her pay grade and leaves her alone to do it. it confounds her, very much. they both know this is not what they’d agreed to but surprise, surprise. she delivers as ordered, little to no flaws. he observes her reactions, to see if a recipe of hatred was cooking in the cauldron.

he keeps his eyes on you. the both of you just got out from a meeting with a drug lord that had rather difficult terms and conditions he wouldn’t agree to but he entertained them nonetheless for the sake of testing you. since the job fell on you to deliver those terms and conditions.

you keep writing down notes on that journal, he reads some of what you’ve written which are familiar to him.

“huh. still not faltering are you? i wonder when you might raise this matter.” he thought.

your posture is not as perfect as it had been when you greeted him earlier in the morning. the late night seems enough explanation for that. the inside of the car is quiet except for the engine of the car and the rustling of your pencil on paper.

ever since he started giving them to you he hadn’t heard a word of complaint. he’s not really sure what he expected. a bitch fit about how you can’t do it? a conversation about raising your salary? a rant about how he’s being unfair? he’s dubious about the result he was searching for but he should know. he is the marquis. everything must have a reason, had he expected all three so he might have a reason to fire you? maybe. but why would he fire you? you’ve proven yourself capable and competitive. there is almost no one to your like, only a fool would do that. why does he want to get rid of you for no reason?

perhaps it’s because of what you do for him. he knows you’re in it for the money but…but that unwavering loyalty you’ve offered up to him. does it mean more? or is it just something he’s paying for? an even exchange for the both of you. god, prostitutes seemed easier to handle than this, at least with them he knew their motives but with you…he can’t. you’re background is as pristine as water and everything you’ve done is to further his power. what had he done to deserve it? maybe it is true, maybe. there is no amount of money that can give that level of loyalty, even his highest paid employees and previous assistants weren’t even that good. oh, why? why,why,why,why-

why do you look at him as if he’s the rarest thing on earth? why do you follow him blindly with no hesitation? why do you listen to his words clinging to them as if it’s good as gospel?

he snaps out of his inner turmoil and notices that you’ve looked up at him. you’ve caught him staring, he’s slightly abashed because he’d been vulnerable with himself for a moment, and it’s because of you. for a minute he thought you might’ve been genuine to him, that everything you do is because you want to, not for any materialistic gain. he doesn’t show his disappointment. he keeps his face plain and cold and turns away from you, facing the window. he can see the glass pyramid from The Louvre, his mind begins to drift.

you gullible fool, there is no one in this world that can give you that. you know this-you know this. why do you still yearn for that? there are three kinds of people in the world. those who have something to live for, those who have something to die for, and those who have something to kill for and you are not one of them. no matter how much you want it you cannot be one of them. you are the marquis. you are the marquis. you must be untouchable. what you feel cannot be weaponized against you. do you understand? she does not feel anything for you. there is nothing but you and yourself. in the long run, she won’t matter. when you’ve grown more powerful than today what she’s given to you will be nothing but specks of dust.

that’s how he viewed you. after those two months, he treats you the same with no efforts that may seem arbitrary an attempt to veil what he’s felt for you. keeping it professional you might say, he screws it through his head, that he doesn’t matter to you, that it doesn’t mean more.

one day it changes.

almost two years after that car ride to The Louvre.

you take a bullet for him.

but you take much more than that.

author’s note: welp, that’s part three! i found it difficult to choose which pov for part two, idk if I should keep the marquis’ thoughts ambiguous or just throw this in. I had this dilemma in class and decided to go for reader’s pov, it turned out nice anyways feel free to share your thoughts!

taglist: @dcgoddess @1mawh0re @davvydobrik

part one part two part four part five

#vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #one shot #john wick #john wick 4 #keanu reeves #fanfic #obsessive #yandere #bill skarsgard gif #bill skarsgard imagine

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