#like i saw it all coming and like rogue one it still hurts

[prplepeony]

In the Line of Duty

Kate Stewart x Reader

Summary: You and Kate confess your feelings for each other after she gets injured

Words: 1072

Working for UNIT, no two days were ever the same. There were alien threats, unexplained phenomena, and secrets that the general public could never know about. But beneath the surface of all that danger, something else was happening—something a little more personal. You’d been working with Kate Stewart for a while now, and over time, your admiration for her sharp mind and dedication had slowly transformed into something deeper. But she was your superior, and more importantly, a friend. It felt impossible to cross that line.

Still, the way Kate would catch your gaze across a room during meetings, the subtle touches of her hand on your shoulder when you were having a bad day, the warmth in her voice when she spoke to you—it all made you wonder. Did she feel the same?

Today had started like any other. The briefing room buzzed with activity as UNIT personnel prepared for an operation. A distress call had come in about a rogue alien entity in a small town not far from the city. You and Kate stood near the projector screen, going over the mission parameters.

Kate was as composed as ever, her hands clasped behind her back, a serious but calm look on her face. "We don't know what we're dealing with yet, but we can't risk letting it escape into a populated area," she said, her gaze drifting briefly to yours. "We'll be taking a small team in. Minimal force, maximum efficiency."

You nodded, trying not to let your admiration for her distract you from the task at hand. "Understood. I'll take care of the logistics."

"I'll be leading this one myself," Kate added.

That caught your attention. Normally, she preferred to coordinate from a distance, letting the field agents handle the danger. You frowned. "Are you sure? It could be dangerous out there."

Her lips quirked in a half-smile. "Dangerous is part of the job, isn't it?"

You sighed, not entirely convinced, but you knew better than to argue with her when her mind was made up.

The mission was supposed to be routine—analyze the threat, neutralize it, and contain any damage. But when you arrived at the scene, nothing went as planned. The alien entity, a shape-shifter of sorts, was far more volatile than anticipated. As you and the team moved in, it began wreaking havoc, shifting forms and attacking with unexpected force.

"Get everyone back!" Kate shouted, her voice rising above the chaos.

You stayed by her side, adrenaline surging as you worked to coordinate the retreat. In the distance, you saw the shape-shifter targeting Kate. Your heart jumped into your throat.

"Kate, look out!" you screamed, but it was too late.

The entity lunged, knocking her off her feet with a brutal force. You ran to her side, fear gripping you as you knelt beside her. She was hurt—her arm badly gashed, and she winced as she tried to sit up.

"Stay still," you urged, your hands trembling as you pressed down on the wound to stop the bleeding. "We need to get you out of here."

But Kate, stubborn as always, shook her head. "I’m fine," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Focus on the mission."

"Damn it, Kate!" you snapped, your heart pounding. "I'm not leaving you like this!"

Her eyes softened as they met yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fall away. The chaos, the danger, the alien threat—it all faded into the background. All that mattered was the way she was looking at you.

"You're always so stubborn," you whispered, your voice cracking as the fear and worry bled into your words. "I can't lose you."

Kate's gaze softened further, and for the first time, you saw something flicker in her eyes—something vulnerable, something real. "I’m not going anywhere," she said quietly, her hand reaching up to grasp yours. Her fingers were cold against your skin, and you clutched them tighter, as if you could will her to stay safe just by holding on.

"I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now," she murmured, her voice shaky but steady enough to cut through the chaos around you. "But I never found the right moment."

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew exactly what she meant, but you couldn’t quite believe it. "Kate…"

She nodded slightly, her hand still holding yours as if she couldn’t bear to let go. "I care about you—more than I should, more than I ever meant to. But this job… it’s complicated. There’s always something getting in the way. But I…"

The world around you felt still, even as the battle raged on in the distance. It was just the two of you, in this quiet, raw moment where everything else faded into insignificance. Your breath hitched as you stared down at her, the weight of her confession sinking in.

"I feel the same," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn’t know how. And now, here we are…"

Kate smiled weakly, her thumb brushing against the back of your hand. "Seems like a terrible place for confessions, doesn’t it?"

You let out a soft, nervous laugh, tears welling in your eyes despite yourself. "Yeah, not exactly how I pictured it."

Her eyes flickered with warmth, even as the pain from her injury clouded her features. "When we get out of here," she said softly, "we’ll talk properly. About everything."

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. "Yeah. We will."

The moment was broken by the sound of an explosion nearby. The rest of the team had managed to contain the threat, and reinforcements were moving in. You didn’t want to leave Kate’s side, but you had no choice.

"I’ll call for a medic," you said, your voice steadier now, though your hands still shook as you helped her up.

She winced but allowed you to support her as you moved toward safety. "You’ll stay with me?"

"Always."

Later, in the med bay, after the adrenaline had worn off and Kate’s injury had been treated, you sat by her bedside. The room was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of earlier.

Kate looked over at you, her eyes softer now, free of the usual guardedness she kept in place. "About what I said earlier…"

You smiled, leaning forward to take her hand again. "We’ll figure it out. We’ve faced worse together."

She chuckled lightly, a genuine smile lighting up her face. "I suppose we have."

The silence between you was warm, comfortable. For the first time in a long while, you felt like everything was going to be okay. And as you sat there, holding her hand, you knew that no matter what came next, you’d face it together.

[jedi-bird]

Episode 6 of Andor went about how I expected it to and I'm not okay. Nor do I want to wait another week for the next episode.

[lovelybucky1]

Dress Up (Logan x Reader)

warnings: AFAB!reader, mutant!reader, age gap, consumption of alcohol, mentions of sex, mentions of corruption kink, 18+ minors dni

masterlist

To call it a schoolgirl crush would be an insult. You're not a schoolgirl anymore; you aged out of Xavier's program a couple years ago. However, you are still young and to anyone else, you'd look like an innocent young woman. To Logan, the object of your desires and your teammate, you're naive little girl.

You've been trying to get his attention for weeks. He's gruff and grumpy, but you know he has a good heart. He cares, just from a distance. He's not one for small talk and you feel like it's impossible to break the ice with him. You get it, he doesn't want to talk to some kid he has nothing in common with, but it still frustrates you.

You enlisted the help of Rogue to learn more about him. He likes to drink and smoke and to sit in brooding silence by the fireplace. All things you already knew. You were driving yourself crazy, thinking of ways to get close to him, and in a last-ditch effort, you decided to get a little bold.

You dressed up to the point where you didn't even recognize yourself. You did your hair, put on some dark makeup, a low-cut top, and rehearsed your lines in the mirror. You looked grown up. This should do the trick.

You find Logan at the counter in the kitchen with a glass and a bottle of amber liquid sitting in front of him. Taking a deep breath, you walk up beside him.

"Mind if I join you?" you ask.

Logan tilts his head slightly to look at you before returning his gaze to the middle-distance.

"Knock yourself out."

Wordlessly, you sit on the stool next to him. You're not sure if he feels awkward too, but the tension is suffocating. You reassure yourself that you can do this, and maybe a little liquid courage would help.

The bottle of whiskey sits between the two of you and you eye it nervously. You're not much of a drinker; Charles is pretty strict about stuff like that. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab the bottle and take a too-big mouthful. The taste is awful, it burns going down your throat, and you have to prevent yourself from gagging. Smooth.

"Woah," Logan says, turning to look at you with furrowed brows. "What's with you, kid?"

You don't really know what to say to that. "I'm head-over-heels, stupid in love with you and you won't give me the time of day?' Yeah, no thanks. Instead, you focus on how that word grates on you.

"I'm not a kid," you say, looking back at him.

"What?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm a legal adult," you clarify. Just to make a point, you take another swig from the bottle and instantly regret it.

Logan huffs a laugh. "And that means your all grown up, right?"

He's teasing you and you're not sure how to handle that.

"I am grown up," you insist.

"Sure you are. Is that why you put on this little costume?" he asks, his eyes flicking down to your exposed chest for a split second before returning to meet yours.

"It's not a costume," you say, not able to keep the slight whine out of your voice.

“You're a good girl. You shouldn't be sittin' here with me, dressed like that."

You look down at your lap, feeling silly for putting on this act that he clearly saw right through.

“I just wanted your attention,” you mutter.

“Trust me, you don’t want that.”

You look up at him with a pout on your lips that he can’t stop himself from looking at. “I do want it.”

“Doll,” he starts, and that pet name gives you butterflies. “You think I don’t notice you? You’ve had my attention for weeks, but nothing good would come from gettin’ involved with me.”

Your eyes widen at his confession.

“I don’t care what happens. I want you,” you whisper.

“You’re so young…” he says, matching your volume.

“You’re just an old man.”

Logan cracks a small smile at that, but it quickly falls into a more serious expression. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t hurt me.”

“I’m sure I’d find a way,” he says.

You know he means it as a waring. A way to tell you to run the hell away from him as far as you can, but to your twisted brain, it makes you want him even more.

Feeling emboldened by his words, you slide off your stool and step close to him. Your chest is almost brushing against his as you stand between his spread thighs. He raises his eyebrows at you a bit.

"If we're gonna do this, no more of these little outfits," he says. "I like the good girl look on you better."

"Yes, sir," you mumble.

Logan makes a small growl in the back of his throat. "You're gonna be the death of me, ain't you, doll?"

"I hope not, old man," you giggle.

Logan possessively grabs ahold of your hips, his fingers gripping the soft flesh. "Can I kiss you?" he asks.

"Please, Logan."

He tugs you forward so your chest is leaned against his, and he kisses you hard and with passion, like he's held himself back from doing this for so long. It feels so good to kiss him, even better than you've imagined so many times before. It feels like the two of you kiss for hours, though it wasn't really more than a couple seconds.

When the kiss breaks, Logan is breathless. "Please tell me that wasn't your first kiss."

"It wasn't," you reassure, "but if this goes any further..." you look at him with a small smirk.

Logan growls again. "Of fuckin' course you're a virgin."

Despite being a mutant, Logan is still just a man. He only has so much self control, especially when being tested by a pretty young thing he can corrupt.

[justporo]

Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!

I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!

It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.

But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.

Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.

Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!

But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.

And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.

“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.

“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.

But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”

You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.

“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.

Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.

“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”

“You think I'm funny, my love.”

“It also isn't as full of itself.”

A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.

“My heart, you hurt me.”

“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”

The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”

“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”

A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.

“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.

But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.

After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-

“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”

You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.

There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.

“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”

“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”

“Ah, so you agree with that too.”

You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.

Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.

“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.

Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.

As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.

With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.

And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.

When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.

With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.

“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.

Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06

[lovebugism]

hi! i saw you were looking for some eddie requests for your summer fic fest and i have a wee lightbulb

friends to lovers pool day with eddie where a) he’s never seen the reader in a swimsuit before and his head is short circuiting and b) rhey apply each other’s sunscreen and they’re all blushy and UGH

thank you for the request angel :D — you and eddie have trouble pretending you aren't in love with each other while at a beach day with the gang (friends to lovers, grumpy!eddie, grumpy!reader-ish | 1.6k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The white sand is warm and heavy on Eddie’s feet. He buries them beneath the soft granules until his ankles are covered — until the fine grains, now heated by the merciless summer sun, start to burn his pale, delicate skin. It hurts less than how much he misses you, anyway. 

Ten minutes gone, and it feels like an entire lifetime has passed without you. Eddie’s left grieving about it, like a gloomy stormcloud beneath a very blue sky. His soft features are screwed into a very boyish pout that will likely stain his face the rest of the day. Or until you coddle him, whichever comes first.

“Jesus— Did you guys get lost on the way to the room or somethin’?” Steve Harrington chuckles from where he sits a few longue chairs down, dark eyes peeking over the tops of his darker sunglasses. 

Eddie’s head whips over his shoulder to follow his gaze. His heart swells into his throat at the sight of you.

You and Robin walk side by side, kicking up grains of white sand as you go, and looking like total opposites. The latter’s lean, freckled figure is adorned with a pair of jean shorts that go down to her knees and a plain black sports bra instead of a real bikini. 

Your sunkissed skin, meanwhile, clashes just perfectly with the pretty white two-piece you wear — patterned with an array of fruits and flowers. Peaches and oranges and strawberries. Daisies and hydrangeas and lavenders. The cups are a size too small for your breasts. The bottoms sit high up on your waist to display the expanse of your plush thighs.

Eddie forgets how to breathe.

“We got lost on the way to the gift shop, actually,” you quip when you’re in earshot again, squinting one eye to block the sun.

“Yeah,” Robin grouses. “’Cause you forgot to pack the sunscreen, Stevie.”

The boy’s scruffy face screws into a cartoonish look of offense. “You said you were bringing it!” he argues, gesturing to you with a wild hand.

“No— I said I was bringing everything else and that your one job was to remember the sunscreen.”

Steve settles back into his seat then — likely with the acknowledgment that he had, in fact,  forgotten the only thing he was supposed to do. “Oh…” he grimaces sheepishly. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” you sigh.

“You owe me seven dollars, though,” Robin monotones, then turns suddenly away. Her chopped locks swish around her shoulders as she squints at the water. “Here, Nance! Catch!” she shouts. The rest of you flinch at the volume of her voice.

The brunette girl looks over her shoulder from where she wades in the water with Jonathan (who’s still getting over his fear of open water, it seems, as he grips onto the girl’s hand for dear life.) Her sharp features pinch in a distant look of confusion. “What?!” she shouts back, tucking a rogue curl behind her ear when it billows in her face.

Robin opts to throw her the bottle of sunscreen, even though her eyesight’s almost as bad as her hand-eye coordination. The thing lands several feet away from its intended recipient — momentarily succumbed to the tides until Jonathan retrieves it from underwater.

In the split second of following silence, you turn to look at Eddie, who’s been uncharacteristically silent since you walked up. His face is all screwed like he’s pouting as his chocolate gaze darts up and down your form. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you ask him, laughing.

His eyes make one more pass over your body — savoring the sight of your bare thighs and tummy and chest — ‘cause he’s never seen so much of you before. “Did you walk all the way to the gift shop like that?” he deadpans.

You bounce a sunkissed shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Yeah?”

“…You didn’t break any necks on the way back, did you?” he teases, peering at you beneath his long lashes in a playfully solemn look.

Your chest warms with something more sparkling than a burn from the sun. You roll your eyes and avert your gaze to the bottle of sunblock in your fist. “Shut up and turn around,” you grumble.

Eddie watches you squeeze a dollop of lotion onto your palm and protests, “I’ll put some on my tattoos, but that’s it.”

“Putting sunscreen just on your tattoos doesn’t count,” you monotone.

“I hate the feeling of it, though…” he complains.

“Don’t care,” you lilt with a sweet smile. “Now turn around.”

Eddie concedes with less arguing than you’d expect. 

He huffs and turns his back to you, pretending to be annoyed to cover up how giddy he truly is. He knows there’s something deeper in your badgering — people don’t get so concerned about something as silly as sunscreen for people they don’t give a shit about. The thought makes his heart beat a little faster.

You warm the lotion between your palms before spreading it over his shoulders. His pale skin, glowing softly red already, is spotted with sparse freckles you could count if you wanted to.

Eddie tenses under your touch. “It’s cold,” he whines.

“Stop being a baby and move your hair outta the way.”

He grumbles like a storm cloud and parts his curls over his shoulders for you. Your hands trace the expanse of his back in a softer touch than he thought anyone was capable of. His skin buzzes accordingly.

You slap him hard on the arm a second alter. “There. All done.”

“Your turn,” Eddie insists, perhaps a hair too quickly to be casual, as he rises from the creaking longue chair. He manhandles you in front of him with gentle hands. Your feet shuffle in the sand as you let him.

“Fine— But don’t be annoying about it,” you scold with a stern look over your shoulder, passing the plastic bottle behind you.

Eddie scoffs. “Never once crossed my mind,” he promises, very playfully sincere, as he squirts a heavy glob of sunblock onto his palm. 

The cream is cold and heavy as he presses into your skin. You grimace, “Eddie!”

“What?” he exclaims in a similar tone, then smiles wickedly to himself. “It’s just sunscreen— don’t be such a baby.”

“That’s gonna take forever to rub in. You know that, right?”

“More fun for me,” he shrugs.

“Perv.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

He pokes you hard in the shoulder. You flash him a glare. “Don’t be such a freak.”

Eddie laughs as he rubs the sunscreen into your skin — warm and sunkissed and supple under his guitar-string-calloused fingers. His thumbs dip at your lower back, and he has to remind himself to breathe. It’s hard to, though, with his heart in his throat and all. 

When the lotion’s sufficiently melted into your skin, he pats you twice on the waist. “There. See? Easy peasy,” he teases. “I’d put some on your legs, too, but I don’t wanna be too forward.”

You scoff and sit in the beach chair beside him, feet in the sand as you stay facing him. “I think I got it from here, Eds. Thanks, though.”

“Figured,” he sighs and settles into his own seat. 

He tilts his chin to his shoulder, squeezing one eye shut from the sun. He watches you smooth sunblock over your thighs and tries to find something to say in the meantime. He struggles to make the words out, though, so he ends up just staring at you for several long moments.

“That’s, uh— That is a real cute bathing suit, though,” he ends up stammering. “Just, you know, by the way.”

You smear lotion over your calf with careful hands and peer at him beneath your lashes. “I figured that from your ogling,” you tease with a knowing smirk.

Eddie squirms. “Well… What about me, huh? I don’t get a compliment?”

You sit up straight again, trying not to smile too wide. “Well, you look very cute today, Eddie Spaghetti,” you lilt in a mocking tone, ‘cause sincerity’s never been your strong suit.

“Just today?” he murmurs, flashing you a doe-eyed look of expectancy.

“Maybe a little extra today,” you squint.

Eddie huffs and looks away, crossing his bare arms over his chest. His boyish dramatics are obviously meant to make a point, but really, it just gives you a chance to ogle at his happy trail without him noticing.

“Well, I think you’re pretty all the time,” he pouts.

“Shut up,” you laugh, cheeks warming.

“I’m serious!” he insists, then grows playfully sheepish. “But obviously, you don’t feel the same way—”

“Eds.”

“—Obviously, I think you’re unconditionally perfect, and you think I’m only perfect with conditions. It’s fine.”

You blink at him for several long moments, glare unwavering. Eddie maintains his pout in spite. “You’re just fishing for a compliment now, aren’t you?” you deadpan.

Eddie thinks for a moment, then nods. “A little bit. Yeah,” he confesses.

You rise from your seat with a huff, shaking your head and rubbing excess sunblock between your palms. Your body looms beside him. He can smell the coconut-strawberry concoction on your sunkissed skin from here. The summer sun shines in rays behind your head like a halo. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Munson,” you sigh in a honeyed voice before bending at the waist to kiss his cheek. 

Your lips just barely brush his glowing skin. He’s left buzzing about it anyway when you walk away from him, hardly apologetic for the state you’ve left him in.

He tries to come up with some stupid rebuttal to shout at you, but nothing comes to mind quick enough. His brain is full of nothing but static. He’s got a frog in his throat, too. He couldn’t say anything if he tried.

So, instead, Eddie watches silently as you saunter towards the tide with his wild head tilted to his shoulder, admiring the pretty view. (He’s not talking about the water.)

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I dont know if you done this already, but what about you logan x fem reader fic, where reader is the little sister of Charles xavier or Eric, and they keep their relationship secret, but then everyone finds out and readers brother gets really protective of her and has a talk with logan trying to scare him off but it doesn't work

.⋆｡Worst Possible Decision｡⋆.

Logan x plus size reader

How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

Warnings: angst, gunshots, burns/fire, fluff, protective!erik, descriptions of pain, reader is german but there’s no further description than vague references WC: 2.7k

A/N: This went a little off of the request but I hope you still like it and I’m sorry for how long it took!

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

She was too much like her brother in a lot of ways, but at the same time, they couldn’t be more different. Where Erik could command any room he walked into, she blended, finding a home in the shadows where she could be hidden. He exuded confidence and a suave attitude that could charm anyone. She was meek, shy but with a power bubbling under the surface that felt like an even bigger threat than any her brother could come up with.

Erik shot first and asked questions later, Y/N wouldn’t ask, she would get all the answers she needed with a single look and then dispose of the trash without so much as a flick of her wrist. While Erik controlled metal, Y/N controlled pain.

Logan met the brother and sister duo long before the mutants were fractured. He noted how beautiful she was, even when he only glanced at her through his peripheral vision. She was curvy, with a belly and plump thighs. He told them to go fuck themselves.

The next time she saw him, she was alone. She seemed lopsided without her brother beside her, incomplete. Logan saw the way her hackles raised when Charles screamed at him to leave, calling him a liar. He saw how she flinched when Erik was mentioned. 

Wolverine knew what happened between them, the rift that hadn’t ever been healed, even after her death in the far future. He was stunned by her beauty then, finally seeing her in the flesh after so many years, alive and well. Logan pulled her to the side as soon as they were alone, embracing her. Y/N tried to push him off but when she felt his pain, the raw burning like his nerves were on fire, she wrapped her soft arms around him, easing him.

“Stay alive.” He told her. “Do whatever you have to, you have to live.” He pleaded before he was pulled back to the future but not without kissing her like it was the last time. He stole her breath away as he poured every ounce of love as he could into her lips. 

When Logan strolled into the Manor many years after that kiss, Y/N stayed away from him. He was so much younger, so much more whole. She could see now the pieces of him that would break away over the years and it hurt her. She knew what was going to happen to him, what had happened to him. But he cornered her eventually.

“You seem to already know who I am.” She shivered when she heard his voice call out to her from the infirmary door. 

“You made a very big impression on the school.” Her accent had long since disappeared, snuffed out by the need to be hidden, to be safe. She didn’t look at him, instead concentrating on cataloguing the new medical supplies that had been delivered the day before.

The mutant huffed, clearly not content with her answer. “You avoid me like the plague while everyone else is indifferent.” Her eyes flicked up to him briefly.

“Maybe I have decided that I already don’t like you. You did threaten to abandon a young mutant on the side of the road.” He scoffed at the mention of Rogue.

“She had it comin’.” He shrugged. “So what is it exactly that you do?” His large body lounged against the one hospital bed in the room. She couldn’t help but glance up at him. He was physically older, slight grey in his sideburns, more lines on his face but his eyes weren’t as sad, the deep brown swirling with emotions he was trying desperately to tamp down but hadn’t learned how yet. 

He was still incredibly handsome though. He walked with a confidence that came from youth, that blind faith in himself and his strength that made him cocky and untouchable. Y/N turned away. “I’m the school’s nurse, I thought that was pretty obvious, given I’m in the infirmary.”

Logan grunted, crossing his thick arms over his chest, holding a beer bottle between two of his fingers. “I was talkin about yer power, bub.” That made her smile, the corner of her lips turning up. She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she missed his attitude. 

“I control pain. It’s useful.” She shrugs off the question with a half answer. She picked up the last of the supplies on the infirmary bed, making a note on her clipboard before putting them away. 

She heard him huff and a silence settled over the room but it was not awkward or uncomfortable, it was just… silence. The beer in his bottle swished as he gulped down the last of the brew. The supply closet’s door swung shut with a creak and she chanced another look at the man.

She couldn’t ignore the way his muscles bulged so she forced herself to turn away. It would do her no good to get involved with him in any capacity, even if her heart screamed for him. Logan took the hint, leaving the infirmary with a grumble and a glance back at her.

It was impossible to completely avoid someone like Logan, even in a school as large as the academy. He seemed to appear in moments when her guard was down, lurking in the corner of her vision like a ghost. His blue eyes locked onto her whenever they would be in the same room, both undressing her and observing her with some morbid fascination.

But no matter how hard she tried, her lips still ached from that kiss all those years ago and her heart burned to know what would become of them in the future.

——————

“You seem awfully close with the professor.” The manor was silent, a much needed reprieve after the long day of classes in Logan’s case and lots of skinned knees in Y/N’s. An ancient record player crooned in the corner of the huge sitting room, bathing its two occupants in pleasant song which was quickly becoming more of a lullaby. The older mutant sat on one end of the couch with his companion lying across the rest, a thick book propped up on her chest and her sock-clad feet dangerously close to his lap.

She let the statement sink in for a moment as Logan took another sip from his glass of bourbon he had pilfered from Charles’s not-so-well hidden stash. “Are you asking me something or just talking out loud?” He rolled his eyes.

“What do you think darlin’?” He snapped but his usual condescending tone was replaced with a sarcastic tilt to his voice. Her lips quirked up and she shut her book, letting it rest on her sternum as she met his gaze.

“Yes, Charles and I are very close. I’m the same way with Hank and Alex, we’ve all been here since the beginning.” She knew her answer was one that was far more simple than he would’ve liked but she wouldn’t give him the full story unless he asked. 

Logan dropped his left hand from where it had been resting upon his chest onto his meaty thigh, the edge of his palm now just grazing the tip of her fuzzy socks. “Are you fucking him?” The question was so unexpected that Y/N choked on her own spit. She shot up as she coughed, tucking her legs beneath her. Too caught up in catching her breath, she missed the way his eyes dulled at the loss of her closeness.

“Scheiße.” The German naturally slipped from her lips and she thumped her chest with a closed fist. “God no! Having a telepath as a friend is bad enough, I could never imagine dating one.” He smirked, letting out a pleased chuff. 

“So…” He prompted. Y/N leaned back into the couch. They now sat side-by-side and Logan was able to study her profile as she eased the drink from his hand, finishing it off in one gulp.

Her face was solemn, haunted by something he couldn’t quite place, even in his many decades of life. She looked as if she were in mourning. “I traded one overprotective brother for another.” 

——————

Logan’s legs ached as he ran, the smoke from the fires that raged around him singed his senses. Flames licked up the sides of the manor as gunshots still echoed across the fields, even if the fighting had already stopped. They had come in the dead of night, guns and torches lighting their way. 

The school had always been a risk, especially being so close to town. But young mutants needed a place to go. It was inevitable that those who hated them would try to run them out, they all thought they had more time.

It was her voice that pulled Logan from his retreat. Laced with tears, she was comforting one of the older students as he nursed a severe burn to his arm. They were laid out in the grass which was still damp from the early morning dew. Y/N cupped his face with glowing hands and Logan could clearly see the pain that rippled through her.

More students gathered around them, each with an injury of their own, each begging for some kind of relief. Exhaustion painted her face as her body wound tight with agony. The ground shook as Logan dropped to his knees next to her. 

“Give me their pain.” She was withering away right before his eyes, driven only by a need to protect, to give the children comfort in the only way she knew how. She shook her head and instead moved to a girl who was no older than 13. A flesh wound cut across her leg, the edges of the wound burned with residual gunpowder. 

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips as she took the girl’s pain and Logan watched as the woman began to wither away. She was killing herself. 

“Give me their fucking pain.” He yanked her hands away from the girl and laid them on his broad chest. She thrashed in his hold in an attempt to pull away but he wouldn’t budge.

Her eyes met his and she froze. This was the moment that he had warned her about so many years before, a premonition that he would never remember. But to give her pain, her gift, to someone else, she couldn’t even fathom it. “Please.” He begged, squeezing her hands in his own. She was weakening, she doubted she could stop him even if she tried.

Logan felt like he was burning alive as gunshots ripped through his arms and legs. And yet he smiled at her and in that moment, something shifted between them. “That’s it doll face.” Heat rushed to her cheeks and it wasn’t because of the fire that still blazed behind them. 

——————

The sounds of power tools and hammers were almost constant nowadays as the mutants worked together to rebuild the crumbling school. Y/N strolled happily through the halls, the walls still blackened from the fire. The students were gone, taken home by their families or sent to safe houses around the country, leaving only a few teachers who wanted to lend a hand. 

“They’re working quite quickly.” Charles noted from his place where the greenhouse used to sit. A handful of people, including Logan, Hank, Alex and Rogue among others were steadily building a large room across the way- a brand new library.

Y/N chuckled as she handed him a cup of lemonade. “They have a goal to achieve. This school is important to all of us.” He grinned slyly at his long time friend. 

“I’m sure one of them has another motivation for working so hard.” His blue eyes flicked to the love bite that peaked from her collar. 

“Shut up.” She muttered with a kick to his wheelchair, Charles laughed under his breath as she walked away to the man responsible for her tender steps and slight limp. As much as Charles loved to tease, he loved even more that she was smiling again and the pain that always seemed to radiate from her mind was now a dull ache that was easily chased away by the touch of her lover. 

As soon as she was near enough, Logan abandoned his work, his full attention turned to her. Her laugh carried through the summer breeze like a bird song as he wrapped her up in his arms, lathering her face in kisses. The others rolled their eyes and continued their work as the couple embraced.

“I see my absence was not missed.” Erik’s cool tone froze Charles’s blood. 

Rage rolled off the mutant in waves as he glared at the man who was all over his precious sister. His knuckles turned pale and Charles could almost hear the way his muscles tensed. “Erik, what a surprise. I thought you were still on the run.” He looked up at his old friend though he almost didn’t recognise him. His eyes were so much older, his soul so much darker but yet, it was still him. 

Y/N had yet to notice her brother, too wrapped up in the arms of her lover but as she pressed another kiss to his cheek, Erik’s anger mounted. He knew what Logan was, knew exactly what pain he was capable of inflicting. “How long?” He growled.

“A couple months though I suspect that Logan had been pining for her since the moment he met her.” Perhaps it was optimistic of Charles to divulge details of their relationship to Erik, but he was a romantic at heart. “Logan saved her life, Erik.” 

Her laughter did nothing to ease the furrow in his brow but the way that Logan grabbed at her ample backside absolutely did something. 

“Logan?” Y/N asked curiously as the man in her arms suddenly froze and his eyes widened almost comically. “Are you ok?” She cupped his cheek and pain unlike anything she had ever imagined rocketed through her veins. Her bones felt like they were twisting in upon themselves, severing nerves and destroying her body from the inside out. She could feel Logan’s flesh move unnaturally as she pulled him closer to her.

“Logan!” Her hands pressed harder into his jaw in an attempt to steal the violent sensation from him but still, his chest echoed with his suffering.

“Erik enough!” Her head whipped around, as did the attentions of all the other mutants gathered around. The fury in his eyes was like nothing she had seen before, as if he was looking at a roach he had crushed under his boot. His knuckles paled with the force of his power. 

A howl of pain escaped Logan’s lips, finally breaking Y/N from her trance. “Release him or I’ll fucking break you.” She snarled and for just a moment, Erik faltered. 

His hold wavered briefly but it was enough for Charles to grab his wrist and completely break his focus. “This is beyond childish.” He scolded as Y/N pulled her partner behind her but her deadly glare remained firmly on her brother. Erik didn’t bother to respond, instead his shoulders dropped in surrender and Logan collapsed, the pain finally dissipating.

There was a flurry of movement as she fell to her knees and the others rushed to make sure they were alright. “She’s happy, she’s safe. Leave it alone.” But Erik ignored his friend. His Y/N was gone and perhaps she had been for years. This woman that threatened him when he hurt a boy, as he had done dozens of times in the past with no fight from her, was not the girl he grew up with.

She stood up straight all on her own. She didn’t need Erik to balance her nor Logan to push her up, perhaps that’s why her brother slipped out in the dead of night, leaving behind the one thing that kept him tethered to his humanity. Y/N would awaken the next morning in the protective hold of the man she loved and find a single coin, rusted with age and stained with dried blood on her nightstand. She knew that she would not hear from him again, Erik was dead, only Magneto remained.

The worst decision indeed.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @cakesandtom @elizabethmidnight2017 @beautyb1ade @bitchy-bi-trash @mewlingoizys @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce @hc-geralt-23 @wisteriia222 @certifiedhunter @annhells @cruelladejill

[uglypastels]

Logan idea- reader has very similar traumas I.e trained as a weapon, memories wiped, has bad nightmares, slower aging, modified healing.

They find healing with the X-men and get close with Logan because of their similarities the reader is more sunshine to Logan’s I don’t know if pessimism is the right word. They go on a mission, goes missing for a period, and when they show back up they’ve been brain washed and are fighting the X-men but Logan recognizes them instantly. And does the whole this isn’t you sweetheart while taking a beating cause they can both kick ass and that’s one of the things Logan loves about them. He gets the mask off of them cause he realizes that’s part of the issue for them not recognizing everyone and then it’s hurt/comfort them feeling horrible for getting caught and Logan feeling horrible for letting them get caught. And even though they hadn’t been together before just very close friends/testing the waters this brings them together cause they realize they want to be with each other after some healing and Logan be soft with the reader while they heal from the brainwashing fiasco.

I dunno I love the idea of Logan feeling horrible about not being able to rescue the reader and then recognizing them fighting his allies and helps bring them back from the void. I’m a sucker for two people relating to eachother having a friendship that a hard time brings out their true feelings with lots of fluff and healing cause Logan understands that.

this made me think of some of my favourite wolverine scenes from different media so it's all inspired by that i guess. hope you like it :3

warnings: angst. mind control. reader presumed dead. swearing. violence. hospital-setting. guilt.

Masterlist ~ X-Men Requests are Open

‘What the hell are you doing? We have to go back!’ Logan started yelling as soon as he realised you hadn’t made it back to the jet. 

‘It’s too late,’ Scott shouted back at him from the pilot seat. ‘We won’t make it.’ 

‘She won’t make it,’ Logan retorted, already lunging at the cockpit, claws itching to come out. And they would have if it wasn’t for the cold hand touching his skin. He looked up to meet Rogue’s eyes. They were filled with sadness–pity– as she held his hand. He tried to pull out of her hold, but the longer it went on, the more frail he felt. Everything around him began to spin, his vision blurred until it all turned black, and his head hit the steel flooring of the plane.

⮿

Rogue had held on for too long. That much she had realised as soon as Logan had passed out.

It took a whole day for him to come by, but not even her powerful narcosis had suppressed his rage. As soon as Logan had woken up and his senses had felt Scott’s presence, he was on his feet, grabbing the team leader by the collar of his shirt, pushing him against 

‘You proud of yourself, punk?’ he spat in Scott’s face. ‘Got your sorry ass out all safe and sound, huh?’

‘There was no other way. We would have all died if we had stayed, Logan,’ Storm clawed at his shoulders to pull him back, but none of her methods sufficed. ‘This was the only way.’

‘No the fuck, it wasn’t!’ He saw red with anger. ‘We could have saved her.’ He had pulled out of saying that one word at the last minute. I could have saved her. That was the only thing on his mind for weeks. How you still would have been there if it wasn’t for him. 

The plan had been simple; that much had been clear in your face as you suggested it the last time he saw you. But he never should have gone along with it. He never should have let you go on your own. If he had just stayed— ran after you— maybe…

A pitiful portion of him still kept up hope. That one day, the heavy doors to the mansion would open, and you would stand in the middle. Perhaps a bit bruised up and tired, but all there. And he would pull you into his arms like he had wanted to all those times before.

But you never did show up. Days turned into weeks turned into months, and there had been no news, no sightings. Even the Professor had stopped seeking Cerebro’s help as nothing turned up anyway, no matter how hard he looked.

⮿

His heart was in his chest as he raced through the dark corridors of the bunker complex. Logan looked around him for the way out with the least henchmen as chances of there being none were slim. He had already left a trail of bodies behind him and was ready for the next wave of men to beat into a pulp.

He turned the corner, but what he saw was the last thing he had expected.

For a second, he thought he was dreaming; perhaps it was a hallucination brought on by some chemicals they pumped into the air to get to him. It wasn’t possible. His mouth had already fallen open, ready to call out your name, but as you got into a stance of attack, eyes blank except for a fury deep inside them, Logan realised it wasn’t a dream at all. It was a bloody terror. 

It was the hardest fight he had ever been in, trying to block all of your attacks while pulling himself back. He couldn’t het himself to hurt you. All he found himself doing was calling your name, but it was useless. It was you, but it wasn’t. Nothing he said seemed to matter, seemed to take any effect on you. You lunged at him, punching and kicking. 

It was futile to try and argue with you, and so, against every muscle and nerve in his body screaming against it, Logan started to place his movements harder, fighting against you until you went limp in his arms. He cursed himself out as he looked down at your unconscious body, pushing some of your loose hair out of your face. But as he looked at you, he also saw that it really was you still in there. And so he didn’t waste a second thinking about it as he picked you up in his arms and ran as fast as his body could take him. Out of the tortuous underground maze and back to that godforsaken jet that had been the scene of the dreams that had plagued his mind for the past months.

⮿

Everyone had practically stopped in their tracks at the sight of you in Logan’s arms. He stumbled into the jet, nearly falling over, having had, as predicted, to deal with a number more nameless jackasses, but with you in his arms, it made beating them up a bit more challenging.

‘What—’ Storm’s eyes were nearly as pale of shock as they would have been of her powers. 

‘She’s been brainwashed,’ Logan explained before anything else, ‘or controlled. I don’t know, but he’s hostile. We need to keep her down.’ He laid you down on the ground, sitting right beside you, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a deep heave, and only then he noticed the looks of everyone around him. ‘What?’

No one said a thing, but he knew what they were all thinking. For he was thinking it, too. Was it safe to bring you back home? Could whatever they had done to you be reversed, or was he just putting everyone at the school in danger by taking you back? 

‘Is everyone back?’ He just said after no one had dared to say another word.

⮿

Logan didn’t know what had possessed him. Why he had suddenly grown so protective over you, but he could not stand the idea of you being alone in the hospital wing. It took nearly half a week just for Jean and the Professor to understand what had happened to you, and the treatment itself took far longer than Logan would have liked. 

He didn’t know why he came to visit you every night, far outside the regular visiting hours, past when anyone would be awake to see him sneak in and sit by your side, holding your hand, hoping you could feel and hear him as the apologies spilt out of him.

‘I’m so sorry, bub.’ He kissed your knuckles. ‘I should have gone back for you. I should have–’ He stilled as you stirred in your bed. 

‘Logan?’ You croaked out, throat dry and hoarse. In slight shock, Logan said nothing. You blinked and tried to find him in the darkness of the room. ‘Logan? Is that you?’

‘Yeah, it’s me.’ He chuckled softly to himself, squeezing your hand.

‘What happened?’ You tried to sit up, orientating yourself to where exactly it was that you were, but he quickly pushed at your shoulder to stay put. 

‘It’s a long story, kid.’ Never before was Logan happy to be sitting in the dark as the tears he had subdued for months finally fell down his cheeks in extreme relief. ‘You uh– you’d been gone for a while.’ 

‘I was?’ you tried to remember, ‘I can’t recall anything. It’s all—’

‘I know.’ He kept your hand in his, rubbing your skin with his thumb. Logan knew to call for someone as soon as he saw you stir awake, but he needed this moment alone with you. Make sure you are doing alright himself. Besides, the professor was probably already on his way. 

‘It’s okay. You’re alright now.’ He continued, happy you had finally come back home.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Can I see Furina, Navia, Lynette, and Yae Miko dealing with their S/O who wears a mask all the time and never seen your face before? S/O got hurt badly protecting them and they took S/O mask off and see what S/O looks like and help them.

(Genshin Impact) Furina, Navia, and Lynette with a S/O who wears a mask

This is the way. I'd do Yae but my brain is at maximum capacity writing for the three, so remind me to write Yae later!

POTENTIAL POST-ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS FOR THE FONTAINE CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT!

Furina had become very used to the sight of her S/O's mask.

It was reminiscent of a theatre mask, fittingly enough. The holes for the eyes were completely black, and there was no expression for the mouth.

No one could identify what S/O was feeling, other than determining it by voice alone.

Many people found it suspicious, but she wasn't one to judge.

Especially since Furina herself wore a metaphorical mask for the past few centuries.

And besides, there were far more suspicious people in Tevyat than the one person just covering their face.

Furina had grown to love S/O since they did the same for her. They cared for the person underneath the facade, and Furina did the same.

During their travels, they had come under attack by rogue Meka and were caught off guard.

Although Furina cannot not die, S/O very much could, and had gotten terribly injured during the skirmish.

===

(Furina) "S/O!"

Furina quickly dispatched the last Meka with her vision, a burst of Hydro sending it tumbling into the waters below in pieces.

S/O had finished off their attackers with a sword bisecting the machine. However, they were breathing heavily and leaning against a nearby rock, sliding down.

The mask betrayed nothing of what they felt, but she could tell they were hurt.

Panic began to set in Furina's head, quickly scrambling to help. Her eyes glowed a bright blue before a familiar appeared next to S/O, healing the worst of their injuries.

(Furina) "S/O, are you okay?!"

Her usual bravado was absent though it was slowly starting to come back when she saw their breathing begin to steady itself.

(S/O) "Could....be worse, thanks."

Furina's hand placed itself onto her chest, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

(Furina) "Thank goodness! Come now, we shall get ourselves some rest and-"

A red stream trickled down S/O's face, coming from underneath the mask and catching her attention.

(Furina) "Your head! Allow me to-"

Furina's hand stopped itself as it quickly reached for their mask. She had never seen S/O without it, and she wasn't sure if they wanted to be seen with it off.

Silently answering her, S/O's hand gently reached up to her arm, and nodding.

(S/O) "Not a word of this to anyone."

Furina gave them a weary smile.

(Furina) "It depends on how handsome/pretty you are, S/O."

Hearing their pained chuckle, Furina slowly took off the mask and saw their face for the first time. She couldn't help but stare for a few seconds before moving to clean the blood from their head.

It scared her so much to see them hurt, but it was also comforting to see them give her a reassuring smile back, and to see those eyes staring back into hers for the first time.

(S/O) "...D-Don't just stare at me like that, Furina."

(Furina) "How could I not? You look incredible, simply marvelous!"

(S/O) "Even with blood gushing out of me?"

(Furina) "Hah, especially so. It makes you look rather dashing."

S/O could tell she was joking, as her hands were still gripping tightly onto theirs from worry.

(S/O) "Once I actually look presentable and not beat up, you can stare all you like."

(Furina) "I will hold you to that. Now, let's get you cleaned up!"

Furina not so subtly stared at S/O on the way back, smiling back when S/O noticed her and broke off eye contact. How cute!

Navia did raise an eyebrow at S/O upon first meeting, but she quickly became accustomed to it.

It's not like she dressed all that subtly herself after all.

And besides, what matters the most about a person is what's on the inside!

And to Navia, S/O was one of the most trustworthy people you could meet, weird mask aside.

She did not pry on their reason for wearing it, only wanting to ask when the time seemed right.

But that time came quicker than she thought after a dangerous encounter with bandits.

===

(Navia) "Feeling lucky?!-"

Her umbrella gun's blast blew away the ground the bandits were standing on, sending them flying back.

After seeing them retreat after dealing with the remaining ruffians, she smirked in satisfaction.

(Navia) "Serves you punks right, now get out of here! Hah! S/O, did you-"

Turning back to brag about her skills to S/O, she suddenly noticed that they weren't responding, and worst of all, they were on the ground with red on their hands.

Navia stopped breathing for a split second before nearly sprinting over to them, quickly lifting them up.

(Navia) "No! No no no, please, no!"

(S/O) "...N-Navia-"

(Navia) "Please, stay with me! I can't lose you too!"

Navia's hand brushed against the side of their head, her eyes welling up with tears as her heart raced.

S/O's hands wiped away the tears from her face before speaking up.

(S/O) "I'll live. They just grazed me. Promise."

(Navia) "Y-You...You better...!"

S/O slowly reached for their mask and took it off to look Navia in the eye. A small amount of blood came from their lips, but they thankfully displayed no signs of bleeding out.

Navia stared wide eyed at the sight of their face, taking it in. This was the first time she had ever seen them with it off, and this was not the time she was expecting to.

(S/O) "S-See? Heh, perfectly fine...OW!"

Navia suddenly grabbed their face, squishing it repeatedly with one hand as she rubbed off the blood with her thumb.

(Navia) "Why...Why in the world did you not take that off sooner?! You're simply breathtaking!"

(S/O) "Becushyewd'dewdis!" (Because you'd do this!)

They could not form the sentence correctly with how Navia's hands were squishing their cheeks together, as if she were squeezing a ball.

S/O gently grabbed Navia's wrist and lifted it off their face, chuckling lightly.

(S/O) "Not that I don't mind your hand on me, but can you at least do so without feeling me up like a toy?"

(Navia) "A-Ah, my apologies! You're hurt as well, so we need to get you to a doctor!"

Throughout the trip, S/O caught Navia taking several glances to examine their face.

Lynette had kept her eye on S/O the moment she heard rumors about a masked individual going around Fontaine.

She had learned to watch out for any signs of danger in a person, especially if it concerned herself or Lyney.

What had shocked her the most was that S/O had displayed no reason to distrust them, other than the mask.

In fact, they were one of the most trusting people she had met, looking into any information about them, nothing about their past was particularly alarming.

So that meant their reasons for wearing the mask was less to conceal an identity and more personal.

The two had gotten to know each other after S/O was found taking care of a few stray cats around the city, both of them quietly enjoying their time.

After that, it became a lunch or two, and a few conversations here and there.

Eventually, it blossomed into something more as the two spent time, neither of them fully revealing everything about their past.

S/O didn't pry, so Lynette didn't either. At least not after she got to know the person behind the mask.

But after S/O had saved her from rather vicious wildlife...

===

S/O and Lynette took a moment to breathe, escaping to higher ground from the creatures attacking them.

(Lynette) "That was too close. S/O, thanks for-"

Her ears turned sideways as she realized there was blood falling from S/O's head.

(Lynette) "You're bleeding! Sit down!"

(S/O) "O-Ow...No need to tell me twice."

S/O almost collapsed before Lynette caught them, slowly making them lean against a nearby rock as she grabbed their mask.

She took it off without thinking and was stunned by seeing their face for the first time.

Her ears immediately straightened up as the words got caught in her throat. Lynette almost forgot what she was doing until seeing the blood trickle down.

S/O made no motion to stop her, only giving her a small smile that made her heart race even faster. After cleaning the injury on their head, she averted her gaze.

(Lynette) "...Sorry. I should have asked first."

(S/O) "You were worried, so you acted. If anything, I'm flattered."

Hearing their voice so clearly was messing with her head. To finally connect their soothing voice to a face was almost unnatural to her. Part of her was convinced that she'd never actually see it, at least not this soon.

(S/O) "You told me quite a bit about yourself and Lyney already, I think it's about time I returned the favor, anyway."

Lynette returned their smile, albeit hers was not as big.

(Lynette) "I suppose that's a fair trade."

She was finally able to look them in the eye for a few seconds before putting the mask back into their hands.

(Lynette) "...You should have that mask off more often."

(S/O) "I'll do that if you promise me you'll do the same...As long as it's only the two of us."

Her ears twitched for a brief moment, processing what they were asking.

She sincerely doubted at this point they were the type to blabber about anything they were told, something she was thankful for.

And if she got to see the true them, maybe that wasn't the most outrageous demand they could make.

Lynette had seen worse deals, anyway.

(Lynette) "Only for the two of us."

S/O responded by holding her hand tightly, and she responded in kind.

(Lynette) "First, we need to get back to the city. I've had enough outdoors for today."

(S/O) "Heh, agreed."

On the way back, Lynette could not keep her eyes off their face and felt a tad disappointed watching them put it back on as they reached civilization again.

[warning-heckboop]

A little something based on a sort of spin-off of @bunnieswithknives's Nature au that my partner and I came up with while chatting. The premise is under the cut because it's kinda of long :')

Conversation taken directly from Discord for efficiency's sake. Regular text is my own, bolded is @adhdemizel

The animal they witness the shooting as is a deer. The last animal Dale sees them as before they reveal their true form is a wolf

I have this concept based on the Nature au in my head of an actual changeling witnessing Dale shoot Dev, and because fae are all about rules and stuff, the changeling travels across the land as various animals until it finds Dale again, only to then reveal its true, monstrous form in the process of ripping Dale's own leg off. Because an eye for an eye and all that jazz

Using magic to blend in or to cover more ground, and finally finding them and SERVING JUSTICE--

After they rip Dale's leg off, Peri comes to investigate all the screaming because he's worried for Dev's safety, and he and the now-a-wolf-again fae, who's soaked in blood, lock eyes, and Peri sees the familar glint of magic, and he knows

Just an actual random changeling who lived in the forest. They aren't a god parent, but rather an independent fae

They have no tie to Dev, other than witnessing his injury, and then feeling the urge to restore the balance that Dale disturbed

They're acting on their own, but do you think they see Peri, another magic creature, and feel like he failed? Disappointed that they had to step up and make things right for another fae's human?

Mmmm not necessarily! I feel like an independent fae would still know the basics about god parents, and how strict the rules they're bound by are. I think they'd be more so angry at the god parent system overall

Peri, also angry at the god parent system

Secretly grateful for this other fae doing what he couldn't

Maybe he's supposed to report to Jorgen about this rogue fae, to keep them from hurting anyone else. But he doesn't

Turning away to let something huge slide because it was in defense of a kid he couldn't protect

I like to think that even Jorgen would have let it slide, if he'd known. Dale deserved it

He'd tell Peri he dealt with it as needed, but literally all he did was go "nice" and shred the report

The other fae goes back home and let's others in the area know to watch out for a one-legged fae hunter with sharp red hair, just in case he tries again

He probably would try again. Now that he knows they're real, he's determined to catch one

That might have been one benefit of Peri actually telling Jorgen--Jorgen would have wiped Dale's memory and made it seem like a normal animal attack

Do you think he'd drag Dev along again?

Oh, certainly. He needs bait, and he can't risk anymore of his own limbs. It was Dev's fault he messed up as bait the first time. He needs to make up for that failure

He plates his prosthetic with iron for extra protection

Not permanently, because it's unsightly, but also not for Dev. He doesn't want anything to ward fae away from Dev.

Surely any changelings who saw Dev would know he's much too young to be the hunter they were told about.... Right?

Fae have impossibly long lifespans, he might look like a child, but all humans seem too young to them

You're right. And he matches the description so perfectly...

I guess it will have to be up to Peri to protect him, when he comes down to it. Lord knows Dale has better things to do

Dale, not-so-secretly hoping Dev gets into a confrontation so he can swoop in- not to play the hero in any way, but so Dev doesn't get in the way again

[queers-gambit]

The Battle Above the God’s Eye

part one: Sands of Time

prompt: decades after the Stepstones, it's his turn to be rescued.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

warnings: reader isn't explicitly a Targaryen but we had to make this work and i'm burnt the fuck out. so fuck it, dragon rider reader. cursing, books spoilers, violence, imagination required, maybe Red Priestess reader, mention of more Little Birds (let author live), toxic family (duh), heavily encouraged imagination, depictions of death, angst, some hurt and comfort i think ? missing warnings 'cause wonky brain goin' wonky.

"There's rumor, Mistress, of a dragon the color of night," the hooded figure informed. "It nests in the Ruins of Ancient Valyria, seen by farmers and countryfolk; they say his wings beat like thunder. It's a colossal shadow they fear to engage, but after hearing your ransom, they reported it."

You hummed as you took a sip of scalding tea, finding comfort in the heat, musing, "I've been to the Ruins myself on two seperate excursions, I promise you, friend, there is no dragon that nests there."

"It's come from the East, a new beast in the sky."

"I require proof if I am to pay the ransom."

The man with a hood over his head reached for his rucksack and rummaged, a moment later, placing two items on the polished mahogany table between you both. One was unmistakably a dragon's tooth, and when you examined it, there was still clotted blood on the root - assuring it was a fresh pull. The second was a large black scale that weighed at least a dagger's worth.

You smirked, "This is promising. Where in the Ruins has it been seen? Who procured these artifacts?"

You discussed specifics with the man for an hour, offering him a hefty finder's fee after getting the name of the village the man had gathered his own information from. It was a messy journey from there; leaving the home you had made in the decades since the Stepstones to head for what was probably another dead end in Ancient Valyria. You were something akin to a magistrate, the people saw you as a figurehead, a leader; their person of authority who they were all too happy to follow.

Your village flourished, growing in size, number, popularity, and strength by the passing day. The people seemed happy, wealth flowing from exports and trade, and apparently, a few cartographers have begun the process of updating a few maps to add your village's name to history.

Much had changed in your time away from your Rogue Dragon Prince, but you knew that was all coming to an end soon. Your Lord of Light had shown you much in your flames, one of which was a repeating image of you, mounted atop a dragon all your own, soaring over the Narrow Sea with distinct purpose. You weren't a Targaryen, but your religious devotion seemingly gave you the ability to walk amongst beasts and their flames.

Exploring Ancient Valyria took over a year on foot.

You had plenty of encounters with the Stone Men, but all met their merciful demise - those left after that steered clear of you and your Valyrian Steel sword. Around the ruins of the ancient volcano that hadn't erupted since The Doom, you found a graveyard of goat, sheep, and cattle bones. There were bigger skeletons of aquatic creatures, something you found incredibly fascinating - what fully grown dragon went deep diving?

Soon, you found scat. For those who don't spend time in the wilderness or who are simply unfamiliar with the term, "scat" refers to waste produced by wild animals. Yeah, you're reading correctly, after you found the plethora of skeletons, you found dragon shit.

So, you knew you were closer than before. But the fucker still alluded you to the point you felt insane circling the Ruins.

You located about three different potential caverns, investigating them all with caution, but finding them all empty. Feeling exhausted from the months of searching, you claimed one of the caves as your own; hunting for a meal after gathering adequate fire wood. You listened to the untamed wilds of Valyria as you ate whatever you roasted, trying to distinguish familiar sounds of an approaching dragon.

Or perhaps even a distant one!

You'd take any sign!

It'd been weeks since you found the dragon droppings, no other signs appearing. You would search new areas for days, then return to your cave for rest; feeling disconnected from reality the longer you lingered in the ruined empire. You wondering what your village was doing, you were curious if the young woman, Ferona, had a baby boy or girl, if they had erected the new buildings you left blueprints for in an effort to create opportunist housing and houses of worship - as your people had requested.

How did the krill and shrimp season fair? What weddings happened this past spring? How was the irrigation system holding up?

Weeks drug by slowly. Weeks turned to longer months. Two years, you spent in that Gods forsaken ruin of a city - but couldn't find it in you to abandon your search.

Your Lord of Light had yet to send word, yet set your heart ablaze every time you "decided" to go home. You stared into the flames every night, desperate for any indication you were on the right path, but nothing was seen - nothing was said - nothing was shown to you. Until one night, during a torrential downpour and thunderous storm, you were shivering, drenched to your core, fighting the wind to let you keep your flames alive.

And there, in the dying, flickering warmth, you saw it. With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared into the flames harder; unsure how long you remained in the tranquil state before a particularly strong gust of wind nearly pushed you face-first into the embers. You gasped, looking around as the smoke nearly choked you as it filled the cave; stumbling out into the rain as you coughed and patted your chest. Stumbling slightly from malnourishment and delirium, you leaned on the outer shell of your "home", panting with relief before there came a screech so fearsome, you were then cowering into the wall with fear.

You dropped to your knees, huddled into the rock formation; the ground trembling as something enormous touched down. You gasped when through the haze of sideways rain, two nostrils flared and heaved thick plumes of smoke; reddened from the ignited flames deep within an invisible chest. You flattened against the wall, four taloned paws striking the ground and causing it to crack, quake, and tremble. With the fleeting clouds, you used the moon's light to distinguish the beast that loomed closer to you; over you; and then, in your face.

A long, blackened snout nearly pressed into your chest; fabric of your tunic caught in the razor sharp teeth. You had faced death, you had faced beasts, you had faced hacking axes and swinging swords. You had faced the wrath of the Queen Alysanne's court, the rumors of the common folk, and judgment from both man and God. But nothing was like this moment: a wild dragon staring you down, sniffing your chest and stomach, debating if it should just open it's mouth and eat you whole yet or not.

Thankfully, it chose an alternative route.

You're not fully sure how it happened, but you dedicated two years to finding this terrible beasty, and yet, it only took about 6 weeks to bond with the (obviously) young thing. Time with your Dragon Prince proved most useful, creating a bond so secure, you were beginning to wonder if someone deep in your bloodline had mated with a Targaryen. It was natural, the way you both became accustomed to one another; living together on a carbon-dated land long doomed.

The lessons from Daemon came flying back to you. You practiced your High Valyrian, laughing when you obviously got a word or two wrong because the dragon would snort at you. In the light, she was still the color of the night, but her scales were dusted the same gold as her eyes. She was impressive, she was huge in size but nowhere near Vhagar. In fact, you'd wager she had outgrew Caraxes - the only dragon you had true experience with.

Speaking of Caraxes, you were on the shores of Old Valyria, debating how you were going to convince your new companion to join you back "home" in the village, when suddenly, your beast gave a defensive growl.

Looking to the skyline, you spotted the distant dragon and frowned. This dragon wasn't the color of flames like Caraxes was, no, instead, it was a murky blob in the sky with two wings. You offered calming words to your dragon in her native language, not sensing danger, but your beast was unhappy leaving you in the open. Her tail curled around you to corral you back into her body as the muddy brown dragon landed with a thunderous shake a respectable distance away.

Your name was begged by the rider descending from who you recognized as a wild dragon by the name of Sheepstealer.

"Nettles? That you, love?" You asked in skepticism, managing out of your dragon's grasp. "What're you doing here? You all right?"

"I needed to find you," she panted. "I-I need you help - it's all - it's all gone wrong! Please!"

"What's wrong? The fuck's happened?"

"Do you know nothing, Auntie!? Do you know nothing of the war!?"

Your eyes rolled, "Watch that tone with me, girl. The Dance of Dragons is of no concern of mine, it had barely started when I came here."

"Well - it's your concern now," she insisted. "You took me under your wing - you helped raise me in a village you built from the ground, despite not ever needing to - "

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine," you cut her off sharply. "She was kind to me when I came back to Essos, let me stay with her and your father. When I set out on my own, she was always a friendly face, and when my settlement was established..."

"She came to you for help after getting pregnant with me," Nettles nodded. "You've told me this before."

"Then you should know better by now that I owed your mother more than my life, so, raising you was the least I could've done. A life for a life."

"And as such, you let me go into the world with stories filling my head of a handsome Dragon Prince that saved you from the Crabfeeder!" You scoffed at her words, ready to argue, but she rushed, "He's in trouble, Auntie."

You paused, finding no lie in the girl's eye. Slowly, you asked, "Come again?"

"I found him, Mistress," she nodded. "After I got back to Westeros, I found your Prince Daemon - the ones from the stories! He's... He's brutish and harsh, they call him Rogue, but he was kind to me when I told him I knew you. When he heard your name, Lady, he just - he insisted on keeping me close. He protected me, even against his wife - Princess Rhaenyra."

Your head cocked, "Hmm... He usually did have a taste for younger flesh. I'm not surprised he took to you - "

"No, no, no, Mistress, not like that," she insisted desperately. "He was kind, educational - similar to a mentor."

"I see."

"He needs your help."

"Prince Daemon does not need rescuing, he is no damsel."

"He searches for Prince Aemond," she informed, making you lift your chin slightly. Though lost in the wild of Valyria the past two years, you were still well versed in the affairs of King's Landing; staying updated, curtesy of your Lord, the Lord of Light: R'hllor. In your village, you were known to pay for any accurate information - eventually hiring your own spies to relay trustworthy information from around surrounding cities and villages. Nettles was one of your Little Birds.

You sighed, "And? What of it - Aemond killed Lucerys, did he not? Since he married his niece, her children are now his step-children, right? Daemon is within his rights to want some form of vengeance - it's war, Nettie, it's never fair to anybody.

"He will not survive this, you don't understand! It's horrible, Mistress, please, he-he-he's deranged. Mad with grief, lost to his wife's useless fucking war. It'll be the death of him, Auntie, please!" She paused, seeing you just stare back at her; so she begged again, "Please!"

You nodded, "What do you want me to do, Nettie? Hmm?"

"You've told me those stories! I remember them well! You always said he came back for you, saved you from The Crabfeeder," she reminded, making you stiffen. "Does he not deserve the same? Or at least a chance? Rhaenyra will not help, she'll kill him herself I fear, but you can - you can help!"

You nodded, "I will consult the flames - "

"I am telling you - "

"I have heard you, girl!" You snapped, glaring at your Little Bird. "But there are greater forces at work than what you know, I cannot just so willfully trust the word of a child before flying off across the Narrow Sea. Allow me my time with my Lord, I will have an answer for you." Turning from her, you gathered whatever materials you could; setting it up in a small teepee before stepping back.

In High Valyrian, you gave your command. From over your shoulder, your beasty opened her mouth and shot a single flame at the structure.

On your knees, you muttered repeatedly; chanting, summoning your Lord of Light to come to you now in a great hour of need. And He did. Through the flames, you saw what R'hllor wanted to show you: the two Princes engaged in a brutally epic fight that would claim them both in the end...

Unless you left right that moment, as your Lord commanded.

"Make yourself safe, Nettles, go back home," you told her in a rush, catching the pouch of Gold Dragons she tossed you when you sprung into action - and for the first time, mounted your dragon. Like your minds were connected, the Great Shadow took to the sky - leaving Nettles and Sheepstealer behind, and you'd never see either again.

You remained high in the sky, being a blob to the naked eye should any dare to stare at the sun.

You only paused to let the Great Shadow dive into the Narrow Sea for a meal; surfacing with creatures in her jaws as you swam an exhausting broad stroke. Was it terrifying to swim in the open water? Absolutely, but your dragon seemingly kept any threats at bay. When she was satisfied with her meal, the Great Shadow scooped you onto her back and relaunched into the air again to continue your flight for Westeros. You both dried in the air.

The trip was draining.

It was grueling on you both.

Yet when you saw the distant shore, you couldn't help the spike of relief in your heart and veins.

Once in Westeros, you were forced to ground yourselves in the open area of the Stormlands because you needed to know where to go since Nettles hadn't been sure where to send you specifically. Using the usual thunderstorm as cover, you had to separate from the Great Shadow; leaving her in the dark as you ventured to the closest village.

With the pouch of Gold Dragons Nettles gave you, you paid for information that you needed. You were told all the nitty gritty details about the Dance of the Dragons that you've missed, understanding what (Nettles and) the Lord of Light had been trying to tell you for years: the Black Queen would be Prince Daemon's death.

The time had come for you to return his favor from the Stepstones. If this worked the way you wanted it to, you wouldn't be his first, second, nor third wife, but his fourth and final. You knew what you had to do.

"What do you know of their whereabouts?" You asked the innkeeper who wiped down the bar you leaned on.

"The Princes?" She asked, tisking right after. "The One Eyed Prince has been burning the Riverlands for almost two weeks now. The Rogue Prince was in Maidenpool but he's called his nephew to meet him at, uh, oh... Oh, bullocks, what's that haunted castle? The one that was torched?"

"Harrenhal?"

She snapped her fingers at you, "That's the one!"

"Fuckin' Hell," you muttered, wiping your eyes. "What's your thinking, love? 'Bout this war?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stupidest thing I've endured so far. How silly, the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it, or so says our liege lord. So we must all pay their price in Fire and Blood."

You nodded slowly, "Who do you think holds the better claim t'the Throne?"

"Depends on your views," she muttered, "but in truth, it doesn't matter to me - so long as this all comes to an end. But between us?" She leaned in, glancing around before muttering, "The Bitch Queen would burn us all. Can't say if King Aegon would be much better, but at least we'd know what we were dealing with."

"And if he was another Maegor?"

"Can't be worse than the Black Queen. Hear they call her Maegor with Tits."

You smirked, chuckling lightly, "Thank you, ma'am, for your words." You offered her a few Gold Dragons, repeating, "Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal," she nodded, accepting the payment. "I do not know if the One Eyed Prince will answer the Rogue Prince's challenge, but that is where he lures Prince Aemond - Harrenhal. Now, how's about a nice bowl of stew? You look drenched, love, and a bit skinny - you been eatin'?"

"Your kindness is refreshing in this shit-for-a-kingdom."

You winked at her and tapped the bar in parting before turning for the door, and into the rain you ventured once more. You didn't notice the cold, your Lord kept you warm and moving; finding the Great Shadow, mounting, and shooting off into the unknown sky again.

It wasn't easy directing a dragon without a saddle nor any stabilizing reins, yet your beast was something of a decently smooth fly. You minimally directed her as you went, but in truth, her instincts directed you both more than anything. When the storm broke, you were soon flying over charred scores of land; homes smoldering and burning, the wind spreading the embers and never letting the fire fully die out.

"The fuck..." You muttered, sitting up straight as you flew through the carnage. "Seven Hells, he burnt it all, didn't he?" You whispered, needing to hold onto the spinal ridges of your dragon to keep balanced. "Gods be good," you gaped at the damage beneath you.

The sun moved into position, getting ready to set when you heard the horrible screams of feuding dragons. You couldn't see Harrenhal yet, but you heard the fight, and then, as the sun began to set, there came flashes of bright firelight that lit the sky to a new level.

It was nearly the shade of daylight with the way the flames danced against the setting sun. You were desperate to get closer, and after directing the Great Shadow over a set of charred rolling hills, you finally had Harrenhal in sight. "Go! Go, please! That's them - we need t'get there!" You begged through a small sob of panic, and if possible, your dragon flew all the faster.

You were so close, yet felt so far.

The air trembled when the pair of dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, collided in the sky once more. They grappled and snarled and shrieked and blew flames and gnashed their teeth and slashed their talons. You paid no mind to the pregnant woman standing on the shoreline of the lake they fought over, and instead, focused on your task; feeling as if you were moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.

The Great Shadow dove low to the lake's surface as Caraxes and Vhagar came barreling to the ground. It all happened too fast. As the two dragons fell, you saw one man - in black armor - leap from his crimson beast with his Valyrian sword winking in the dying light. Just as his arm extended to pierce Dark Sister into Aemond's blind eye, the dragons were tussling enough to turn over and forced Daemon off their hide.

You gasped as you reacted - no fucking thought to your actions.

As the Great Shadow glided over the surface of the Gods Eye lake, you were leaping off her back to launch into the air; tackling the Rogue Prince hard enough to disrupt his impact on the water's surface. You hit the water all the same, but instead of it being like hitting fresh pavement, it was a softer landing due to the Great Shadow's expert and quick maneuvering.

Two dragons hit the water, three human bodies; sending a wave of water higher than the towers of Harrenhal's fortress. It was a shock to land in something so wet and cold, but your adrenaline was stronger than any feeling of freezing water. Your arms kept an iron-clad lock around Daemon's unconscious waist, surfacing as the lake rippled and churned from impact; turning a seeping red from the open wounds on the dragon sinking into the depths.

Prince Aemond never surfaced, and years from now, he'd be found still chained to Vhagar's saddle with Dark Sister still stabbed through his skull. His Red Witch standing on shore couldn't save him, it appearing that your Lord preferred the Rogue Prince to the One Eyed.

Keeping Daemon afloat was difficult, but to your shock, you were being gently propelled forward to the shore by a fatally injured Caraxes. You encouraged him best you could, trying not to choke on the water splashing around your frantic forms. When you were able, you started heaving and dragging Daemon up the lake's embankment; the crimson dragon crawling out of the lake behind you, slowly, heading towards Harrenhal. You wanted to offer the loyal beast aid or comfort, but you were much too preoccupied with his master that was dead weight in the water's surf.

You trembled as you swiftly hoisted his dragon winged helmet off to leave bobbing in the surf; unhooked his armor, shucking it off him and compressing his chest rapidly - just like a fisherman taught you to do.

"C'mon," you grunted. "C'mon, Daemon, breathe - fucking breathe, damnit! Please, come back to me - don't do this. I just found you again, c'mon, my Prince, breathe. Breathe, Daemon, don't give up - not now, not on us! Don't give up on us, c'mon, my Prince, breathe, w-we finally have our time." Sobs wracked your form. "Breathe, Daemon, please! Please! I'm back - I finally found you, please, my love, breathe!"

You shoved harder into his breast bone with increased ferocity until water came suddenly spewing from his lungs. You heard the Great Shadow land in the near distance, turning Daemon on his side to help him breathe better; choking the water out. You spoke in relief, "There, there you go, c'mon, love, breathe! Thank fucking Gods, you're all right, you're okay, get it out - you're okay, just breathe, my love."

Daemon choked your name in pure disbelief, holding one of your wrists in a vice grip that only briefly concerned you. He panted and relaxed into the embankment, loosening his grip as he turned over to look up at you in shock and wonder. "How is this possible?" He wheezed.

"It's a bit of a long story," you teased softly, caressing his cheek. "Bit of a boring tale, 'M afraid."

"How? How is - how can this be?"

"You needed me," you explained, "thought I'd return the favor since you saved me all those years ago, huh? You got me out of the sea, I got you out of the lake - we're even, yeah?"

He still panted, only staring at you as if he couldn't believe himself. "You've not aged a day," he whispered.

You smiled, petting his cheekbone with your thumb daintly. "You need rest, reprieve, aid," you whispered.

"No, no," he gulped, "not when I just got you back. T-Tell me 's done. Tell me we're done being apart."

"You have a wife still, Daemon. She won't let you go, she wouldn't let us be together."

"Tell me what your flames say."

"Now you trust my flames?"

"When they bring you back to me, yes - oh, fuck yes, I'll believe whatever those fucking flames say. Please, love, for us - consult your flames, tell me what they've said."

You frowned, petting a soaking wet lock of hair from his forehead. Quietly, you whispered, "My Lord showed me what was to pass if I did not come for you... This war, this Dance of Dragons, would claim your life, Daemon. Your wife, your niece... She'll be the end of you, my Prince. You will not survive if you go back to her. Neither of you will survive this... My Lord has shown me that Rhaenyra will meet her end in flames, but following her will cost you your life in water," you glanced at the lake. "Not a death befitting of a Targaryen Prince."

"And now?"

"Now, she will fight her own battles for the first time," you whispered, "and I will return home, and you will make a choice."

He smirked, "We've gone lifetimes apart, like you said before."

"We have."

"I would not go another day," he coughed, wincing in pain. "I do not think I can fight anymore anyways, love. Please... Please."

Daemon never begged. You swallowed harshly, asking him, "No? No more fighting?"

"No," he agreed. "'M so tired, my sweet. I-I can't do this forever," he half-slurred, making you perk up slightly in attention. "Retirement sounds all too appealing now. Rumor will spread that neither Aemond or I lived, it'll be the perfect escape."

You nodded in agreement, flinching when a new voice screeched, "YOU BITCH!"

The pregnant woman you saw on shore stormed towards you, making you chuckle dryly as you had already foreseen this Alys Rivers - pregnant concubine of the One Eyed Prince Aemond and fellow Follower of R'hllor. Alys was unique in the sense that her training was decent enough to ensnare Aemond (it seemed), but not so decent that the Lord yet favored her.

She wasn't more than ten feet from you when the Great Shadow opened her mouth and showered the Red Witch in holy flames; an end she surely did not see coming - not that R'hllor would've showed her. This all caught Daemon's attention, who flinched slightly when he had to turn and look; not expecting the flames nor the beast.

Then his eyes drifted over the land, breathing hitching, and he sat up with a painful groan. "Daemon," you worried, but instead of trying to get him down, you helped him up.

You knew what he saw.

When at Caraxes' side, you helped Daemon lower to his knees at his dragon's head. He whimpered and moaned, belly slashed open, wing torn apart; bleeding out into the cold soil he rested on. The Great Shadow moaned gently in sympathy, lowering herself around you three to let you grieve in peaceful, protective privacy and ease Caraxes to his next life.

The moon was fully in the sky when the crimson bloodwyrm took his final breath with the ebony giant's flames to warm you all. You weren't sure what could be done, but Daemon was pressing a tender kiss to his dragon's head before turning to face you - a lost, confused, vulnerable look coating his features. "Come on, love," you eased gently, helping him to his feet; knowing a few ribs were shattered and probably his clavicle, too.

"Where will we go now?"

"Well, I have somewhere safe for us t'live," you grunted in assurance, wobbling a little under his weight. "But we need rest for tonight. Any ideas?"

"I doubt anyone will venture to Harrenhal this night, should be safe..."

You agreed, and together, you and Daemon settled in the empty castle with the Great Shadow resting on the outskirts of the Keep. She was too big for the interior of the courtyard, so, she was left outside with Caraxes' corpse as you and Daemon settled in the room he had commandeered.

"How is this possible? How can you be here?" He asked, holding your hips as you worked between his spread legs. Daemon had minimal supplies at the ready; hopping up on a work bench to let you care for his injuries and wounds. He watched your every move with a softening look. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that I'd be cursed to only remember you in my dreams. Rhaenyra said I say your name a lot at night, when I sleep."

"I'm really here, Daemon, ease yourself," you offered an assuring grin, tending to the head wounds he obtained from the fight.

"How?"

"Nettles."

"What?"

"Nettles," you repeated with a smirk. "She's one of my Little Birds, Daemon. It was not entirely coincidence she found you..."

"So she said," he frowned. "But how - "

"She told me you needed me," you smiled softly. "And when I consulted the flames, I was shown what could be. I made a decision, I just wanted you safe, no matter what that meant."

"I just want you. Fuck," he seethed, squeezing your hips, "'s been fucking decades since I've even touched you."

"You're delirious," you teased. "Sleep deprived, maybe concussed."

"Perhaps all at once, but I finally have all I've dreamt of. Please," he whispered, "do not deny us longer. I've endured lifetimes - "

"Daemon, being here and now, you know I can't walk away. But we've time t'talk it all out, I need you to let me help your wounds - so sit still."

He nodded, "One thing I do not understand, though - the dragon? How did you...?"

"Spent two years in Valyria, looking for her."

"Why were you there?"

"Searching for a dragon, of course," you smirked. "She's impressive, isn't she? And from her size, I wager she can easily support us both back across the Narrow Sea."

He grit his teeth when you cleaned his open cuts and wounds, wrapping whatever clean cloth you had around the larger wounds; easing him out of his tunic to have better access to the blackened ribs he sported. "Would you tell me?" Daemon whispered some time later.

"Of what?"

"Your life since the Stepstones?"

"Oh," you chuckled, "sweet love, you know it was dreadfully boring without you."

"Doesn't seem it, you being in Valyria two years? That's not heard of, what was it like? How'd you survive? Why go looking for a dragon?"

This lead to you both laying in bed, hands held together, resting, but not sleeping. You just spoke quietly, fingertips tracing idly over each other's faces; sharing in each others lives that the other missed, reminiscing together in fond memories.

When morning broke, you had to move swiftly. Caraxes was left where he laid and after a final parting to the loyal beast and commandeering his saddle, together, you and Daemon mounted the Great Shadow. She wasn't a fan of the restraints, but once you and Daemon were mounted, she did not fuss as it was evident you humans had an easier time with the leather contraption.

"I must confess," Daemon whispered in your ear, using you as an anchor and leaning into your back, "I fear I might feel something akin to guilt for fleeing home."

"That's natural," you assured, "you're leaving family behind, 's never easy."

"There was no winning this war," he admitted, sighing. "I lead so many to their death... Destroyed my family - "

"From what I have heard, this is not your doing," you argued sharply. "That night, when Aemond attacked Lucerys, what were you to do? Leave that kind of atrocity without consequence? No, that is not in the Targaryen's nature. You did not start this war, Daemon."

"But I knew..."

"You knew what?"

"I knew Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were Harwin Strong's, not Laenor Velaryon's. We thought if we married her sons to my daughters, nobody would care much else about lineage - but we were wrong."

"It's okay to be wrong," you promised, leaning your head back to let your forehead rest against his temple. "It's okay to make mistakes or have regret. Tell me, do you wish to return to your wife? I will take you now, no quest - "

"No. No, I do not wish to leave you. This is... This is Rhaenyra's war, I've done my part. I'm free and finally with whom I belong."

"Now it's time to heal," you told him.

"Time to rest," he agreed, squeezing your waist and placing a few kisses to your neck. "This is where I should've been all this time... After the Stepstones, I should've stayed with you, none of this would've come to pass. I regret leaving you everyday - "

"I told you, for us to get here, to this point, now, we had to separate. But look where we are," you smiled back at him, the Great Shadow soaring higher in the sky to keep Westeros at a distance, "we will not be apart again. 'S you and me, love... Until our end, which we will greet together."

Daemon's lips found yours at long last, whispering, "Together," against them before sweeping his tongue against yours.

The port was lovely this time of day, sun high in the sky to give light to the fishermen and vendors hard at work. Sailors made port, calms were being shucked, different Aristocats trying to barter and trade on their journeys abroad. You smiled at the people you passed, grateful to be home after a prolonged absence; arm looped tight with Daemon's as you both strolled the pier.

"It's hard to imagine you've done all this in a lifetime or less," he mused, a hand folded over yours, dressed in the best clothes you could find. "It's s marvel, my sweet," his compliment was sincere.

"Thank you," you whispered, hugging his arm as your skirts swished around your ankles, just tickling your bare feet. "This season's expected to be bountiful," you told him, pointing to the various teams bringing crustaceans, fish, and other sea life in different crates and traps. "I expect there won't be much of an off-season."

He glanced around, "And you don't collect taxes?"

"Why would I?" You scoffed. "We're more dynamic than that. Everyone works for their place, if you wanted to think of it that way. They are not expected to contribute, but the village seems happier that way. Being close knit, helping one another, sharing wealth. No one person has complained, so, I figure it's working so far. Even if it didn't work, I still wouldn't charge them taxes - it'd be like charging them to live. Always seemed silly t'me."

"Morning, Mistress!"

"Morning, Don," you beamed, leading Daemon towards the dock. "How are you, kind sir? Looks as if you've been working all day already."

"Aye, up before the sun," he nodded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Wanted t'thank yah, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, yeah, with that dragon? We're hauling in more ships," he chuckled, and just overhead, the Great Shadow glided over them all to head out to sea to fetch another round of ships. "Gets us out there quick, brings us back when done, 's like a wee bit of an assembly line, ain't it?"

You chuckled, "Sounds like it, friend. Uh, Don, have I introduced you to my husband?"

"Husband?" Don grinned, cocking his head, "No, Mistress, I wasn't aware you even had a suitor. Mariam don't tell me much gossip these days," he snickered, referring to his wife. "It's nice t'meet you," he told Daemon, "name's Don, just Don - no, it ain't short for nothin'."

Daemon smirked some, shaking the man's fishy hand boldly, "A pleasure, Don, Just Don."

"Oh, this one's got a bit uh humor, don't he?" Don laughed lightly. "What's your name, lad?"

"Daemon?" A voice answered for you all, and just above you, a little further on the pier, stood an aged Laenor Velaryon.

"Excuse us, Don," you spoke swiftly, confusion marring your features. He understood or sensed the slight tension, backing off to let you approach the "dead" knight.

"Oh, my - Y/N," Laenor breathed, another aged man at his side with what you assume to be his children. No question could be asked yet as your old friend launched himself into your arms, laughing merrily, giving you a tight squeeze with his still-toned arms. "Oh, the Gods are good for this!" He laughed, rocking you slightly, "Oh, how the Seven bless us."

"You're so dramatic," you laughed back, patting him happily until he pulled back. "But I must confess, I am so fucking confused - what is this? How are you here? I thought you died, Laenor, that's what ever spy reported."

"They should've," he nodded, glancing at Daemon, "but perhaps, the explanation will be better received after some wine?" He caressed your cheek in affection before looking at your husband, nodding, "It's good to see you again, my Prince. Or is it King Consort?"

"Neither, just Daemon," he corrected, your heart soaring a little at the idea that he would abandon his title so easily. Yet you knew, there was nothing to go back to for him.

"Well, how about I introduce my family?"

"Family?" You grinned, seeing him present the others.

"My husband," he gestured, giving his name. "And our kids," he introduced the other three.

"How?" You asked simply.

"We found a Red Priest who was willing to officiate the ceremony," Laenor explained, "and the kids were sired by different mothers, too."

"Whores," the husband smiled.

"Huh," you nodded in impression. "Well, perhaps wine is best to hear that tale, as well?"

"Perhaps," Laenor grinned. "Uh, but first, we should find accommodations - "

"Oh, come off it, you're staying with us," you waved. "Your belongings?"

"This is it," he half-shrugged, you eyeing the few rucksacks around their feet, neck, shoulders... "We heard of the prosperity here, thought it was worth the move."

"How right you are," Daemon answered. "Come, old friend." He picked up a few sacks for the kids and you looped your arm with Laenor's to lead the way. How good it was to have your friend back, your husband at your side, and a functioning, happy village with your placement amongst them most important... Everything you could've wished for, it seemed, came true.

And in your womb, a Dragon Seed was planted; soon to make its announcement known. Truly, a happier ending than you thought deserved - but R'hollr worked mysteriously, blessing those deemed worthy to spread his flames.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Will Pay (Harwin x Reader)

I wanted to write something a little more angry, as you guys know by now I love creating mad women and just portraying the emotions as borderline psychotic, so I hope you guys love this as much. Also please leave a comment it really helps me

The books and the maesters had very descriptive stories about the war of dragons, sisters, and brothers who went to war and detailed tales of the members and which side they resided with.

One particular story that a lot seemed to gloss over so carelessly was one of the most complicated ones, (y/n) Velaryon, the older sister of Laenor and Laena Velaryon, a comely girl and a fierce dragon rider as her egg hatched while she was in her cradle.

The maesters and fools describe her as a vicious woman, a power-hungry lady that cared for nothing but herself, but when had the maesters ever taken the time to look past their nose?

Aegon had bestowed her the title of the king's hand which caused a riot amongst the council, to force your grandsire to step down from his post, and for a woman at that, it was more than something Lord Otto could stomach, still (y/n) thrived as she meticulously plotted her vengeance against Rhaenyra.

“She took everything from me, my dignity, my love, my life, it is time for Rhaenyra to pay her debt to me”

She had confessed to Dowager Queen Alicent and her father whilst she sat next to Vaemond, urging her uncle to petition against Lucerys, some even wholeheartedly believe the Lady had gone rogue after she saw her uncle's head cut off, though she had to admit that being witness to her uncle calling Lucerys a bastard and breathing life to the shameful past (y/n)s late husband had forced her to a darker path.

How convenient would that have been? To blame the unquenchable thirst for revenge on that, no, her sulking ran deeper than that, like a venom slowly releasing droplets on (y/n) 's heart.

Despite it all (y/n) had proved to be more detail-oriented than any man, she had foreseen a plethora of moves from the blacks' side, (y/n) knew her father's mind and her mother's heart like the back of her hand, hiding in the shadows and observing for most of her adolescence was now (y/n)s strongest trait.

Seastar and (y/n) flew to the skies in numerous battles, (y/n) had been forced to face her mother, to go against her in battle whilst Seastar burned countless of Corlys’s ships, (y/n) watched her mother fall from the sky and inevitably to her death, she had wrapped her mother's body in cloth and send it back to her father in dragonstone, it was then that Corlys decided to join the green side, (y/n) was the only family he had left, he could not bare to lose her.

There was a time that (y/n) was not bitter, she was perceived to be as sweet as the fruit from the lands, back at a time when she wore a wonderful dress and was wed to Harwin strong, a glowing bride who smiled from ear to ear at her beloved lord husband, the couple danced the night away after the ceremony and the maids would gushed over their marriage.

(Y/n) gave birth to 5 children, 3 girls, and 2 boys, all of them inherited a wild mixture of their mother's and father's hair, albeit the common trait amongst them was their mother's eyes, a deep violet color that pierced through souls, the children were given devoted love and attention by both parents, Harwin had been an excellent example of a father figure to all of them, he never shied away from bouncing his youngest while the others ran around like a tornado.

He had even insisted on being there for all of their births, and as the first cry of each of them would be heard, Harwin would brush away the strands of hair from (y/n) 's sweaty face, plant a loving kiss on her forehead and then on her hand, smiling sheepishly she would nod at him basking the feeling of accomplishment and euphoria that a newborn would bring as it would curl on her arms.

One would think 5 children would be enough of a proof that there was at the very least attraction between the couple, though life has never been proven to go by a book.

“Laenor”

(Y/n) breathed out as she fell in her brother's arms in desperation, the death of their sister hit them hard and the macabre nature of her ceremony was similar to adding salt to an open wound, Laenor held her tight as he too suffered the pain of his twin being ripped out of life far too soon.

“Let us go for a walk, I wish to speak with you”

“Of course, I too yearn to get away from all the false empathy”

She hissed from between her teeth as the siblings held on to one another and step by step the ever-exhausting role of whatever title they carried washed away from the sounds of the ocean.

“As the eldest, I worry about you, brother”

“As the youngest, I worry for you, you remember her first breath, and now you are here as she took her last”

“It is not how nature intended, I was the one that had to cross over first, I guess Laena always had a Niche for sudden disappearances”

Laenor only scoffed, (y/n) was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve for most of her life, still Laenor could detect that the burdens she carried were heavy, it was forcing her to bend her ever-defiant backbone and suffer in silence as the priding eyes of the court stood by her side, judging any beat of sweat or a wrong bat of an eyelash.

“Laena never cared for what nature intended nor any of the ton thought, she was a young maiden when she rode her dragon with him”

“I wanted to kill her, she was never dim-witted, quite the contrary I like to believe, why did she force herself to even breathe behind the shadow of… her?”

“I would venture to ask the same from you?”

“Of me?”

She was taken aback by the question, quite frankly she could not fathom what could Laenor possibly have intended by it. Puzzled she tilted her head to the side as her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes never leaving his as Laenor somewhat hunched, he looked uncomfortable and defeated.

“Come on (y/n) it is just me”

“I do not follow”

“You cannot point your finger at Laena when you suffer the same fate”

“Suffer? Have you been drinking your grief away?”

(Y/n) was evidently annoyed by Laenors riddles, naturally her mind went to just drunken sentences, Laenor shifted on his feet as he scoffed at her, his arrogance slowly burned out as he detected that (y/n) kept sturdy with her act.

“You… do not know?”

“Know what?”

“About Harwin”

“For the love of everything holy spit it out”

“Harwin is fucking Rhaenyra!”

Laenor exclaimed as fast as his tongue allowed, (y/n) 's blood ran cold at a drop of a hat, her eyes widened as her breath halted right at her lungs, and all of a sudden the wind felt like pricks piercing her skin, then as Laenor waited for the curses and any type of reaction he was shocked to see (y/n) start from a soft giggle to a full-on belly laugh.

“(Y/n), sister”

Laenor went to wrap his arms around her but (y/n) dodged it away, continuing to laugh when her hands went to her knees, her body shook from the snickering and tears started to look in her eyes, escaping fast making her eyesight blurry and the draws of breath harder by the second.

“Please (y/n) say something”

“This is… perfect”

She managed to spit out in between her shrieks of laughter, Laenor took a step back out of fear as (y/n) hiccuped, the only way to describe this was that (y/n) was walking on a tight tightrope in between sadness and insanity, the anger began to coil on her insides as the sudden sensation of pain clawed on her heart. (Y/n) fell to her knees whilst tears made her eyesight blurry, Laenor felt helpless against her, as guilt was written on his face he worried if he had made the right choice, he had let her in the bliss of ignorance for far too long.

“I must, I must go”

“Where will you go?”

“To hell, most likely, but for now I will go to my lord husband, if you can call him that”

She mumbled mostly to herself as she struggled to get up, stumbling from time to time as she walked back to their chamber, some that happened upon her described the sight as a drunken pale ghost, a demeanor that was highest unexpected of her, she could never recall how she had mastered to walk back, she had guessed that the force of habit or the desperate urge for privacy forced her legs to move one after the other and to the door that with the last ounce of power she managed to push.

Her legs had given up as the door closed by itself and (y/n) fell on the floor, she merely switched sides so she could face the ceiling and waited for Harwin, she could have been waiting for hours but to her, the thoughts had wrapped their cloak around the aspect of time, tears had ran dry and her mouth was as dry as sand yet she refused to move.

Harwin had almost stumbled over her when he walked in, it took him a second to register what was happening, his lady wife laying on the floor consciously yet the air felt like something had happened, the obvious guess was the grief overcame her.

“My dear, do you need help?”

“Don’t touch me”

“(Y/n)-“

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How… long?”

Her voice was low yet a hint of poison dripped out of her dry lips, as her throat begged for water all she was concerned about was how the ceiling felt like it would clash on her, the part that scared her was that she secretly hoped it did but only if that meant Harwin would go down with her.

“What has happened?”

“That is supposed to be my question, what happened that made you weak in Rhaenyras arms?”

Harwin only blinked, his mouth slightly agape as he was caught off guard by the question and confrontation, he had played cat and mouse with her for years and now the cat had seemed to just give up after she figured out that a mouse was hiding from her.

“(Y/n)-“

Harwin made the mistake of taking a step closer to her, out of impulse (y/n) used her foot to trip him resulting in him falling next to her, Harwin could not react as fast as (y/n) 's blood thrust and he had only a mere second to stop her from landing the dagger that she had so comically gifted him from stabbing him, the loud grunt was heard all around the room when she mounted him and attempted to land the dagger on his chest.

“I will fucking kill you”

“Stop!”

“I will watch as you tucking die you filthy excuse of a man! Let me do this”

Her eyes were wide and unfocused, she spat all over him as she threatened him with her teeth gritting against each other, Harwin had to put actual pressure on her hand and hurt her as she yelled out of pain and let the dagger off her tight grip, however (y/n) was not ready to give up the fight, her hands found his neck and tighten around him as much as he could.

“I will do it to you, to her, to your bastards, I gave you everything! This is how you choose to repay me? You are a demon!”

Harwin's airway was severely restricted, it was the first time that he feared his lady wife, not only was he scared of her taking his life, but the scariest part was as Harwin withered away (y/n) seemed to have a ghost of a smile and a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

“You’re killing me” he managed to get out

“Good”

It sounded almost like a moan the way she spoke, (y/n) couldn’t even have the decency of hiding how much joy this brought her.

Harwin years of training went into defense and he pushed her off with so much might that (y/n) fell back on the floor with her back. Coughs escaped her and so did Harwin as they gasped for air, (y/n)/ back was on fire but nothing could match the shame and anger that shimmered in her heart

“You sick bastard”

She yelled frantically as she dragged herself with her elbows a few inches away before her arms gave out on her and collapsed back on the floor with coughs shaking her.

Such a tragic scene, a couple that had burned bright for all of the seven kingdoms to watch was now inflicting torture on one another, emotional, physical, one could argue generational given the fact that (y/n) could not stand the idea of her children being eclipsed by Rhaenyras bastards.

Both of them gasping for air on the floor as (y/n) supported herself with her arms to gain some distance from the wooden floor, all one could hear was their panting and the groans in between out of agony and pain, the sight of them would bring pity on both of them, as a couple that once found comfort in each other now brought them a breath away from death.

“This is not the way to discuss this”

“I had given you my life, I tore myself to give you children, a wife anyone would envy, a life full of whatever you wished and what did you do?”

“You know I love you”

The only response (y/n) considered to be right was a swift kick at his leg causing him to flinch and hiss in pain, Harwin had remained motionless on the floor as (y/n) struggled to raise herself and stand up, she had made it about halfway and was up on her knees when a pain as sharp Valyrian steel sliced her across her stomach.

“I will never forgive you for this”

“(Y/n)”

he called for her as sweet as he always did, a few hours ago she would have melted with a happy smile at the sound of him calling her name.

“Get out! OUT!”

She was crying a screaming at him, spit escaping her mouth, Harwin gazed at her with guilt written all over him, (y/n) had endured the worst, scenarios that would make anyone break and yet she had managed to stand strong, all for him to blow it down like a withering deck of cardamom

Harwin got up and shamefully walked away from her, leaving her to cry, what he did not know was that (y/n) was not just grieving their marriage, she was grieving a child, blood was trickling down her leg and the pain only worsened by the moment, she was so excited to call the babe Laena, after her late sister and now she lost that chance as well.

She did not want to tell him yet, maybe inside her, she knew it would not last, but how could Mother be so cruel to her? Take away the last offspring of her love that now was sniffed out like a candle in the wind, the very last memory of the blissful marriage she thought she had.

(Y/n) placed her hands on her stomach as she wept, images of them together kept on clouding her mind and judgment, one that persisted was the day they welcomed their first child.

(Y/n) had suffered at the hands of the maesters, men that could not fathom the idea of a woman knowing better than them even though it was her that split into two pieces to bring a son into the world.

Harwin hastily had burst through the doors at the first sound of that marvelous cry the babe had managed to spit out and fill the room with sighs of relief.

“Praise the Gods, you have a son”

“Out of my way”

Harwin had mumbled before he shoved away the maester making his heavy metal chain click against its charms before he kneeled before (y/n). She was sweaty though her skin was cold, her eyes could not seem to focus and moved at glacial speed, she had managed to make her thighs touch as she had probably collapsed after the labor, and her calves were one in the east and the other in the west.

“My beautiful, sweet (y/n)”

“Harwin, stay”

“Of course, you did so well”

“I’m tired”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and her heavy breathing made it harder for him to listen to her words, as a sign of comfort Harwin placed his hand on the top of her head and started to pet her ever so softly, a sheepish smile appeared on her lips, after such intense act his caress brought her such security that the pain seemed to leave her body.

“Is he alright?”

“Healthy and kicking my lady, would you like to hold him?”

“No, I can’t, Harwin”

She begged, (y/n) could not even get out of bed for days, her body was wounded severely and all she seemed to want to do was sleep, Harwin would often jest that (y/n) only did it to make up for the nights her belly kept her awake, he had stayed by her side, holding their son, making sure she sees him and even helped her to hold him once she had regained her strength.

Now look at them, Harwin kneeling behind the door of the bed chamber as she yelled and cried, (y/n) was pushed into madness, she plunged herself deeper in the sea of chaos and salt of unfairness ached the scratches on her heart, a babe ripped away from her too soon and her lord husband stripped from the shinning armor of honor.

“You will pay! All of you will pay!”

Requests are open!

[timbit-robin-art]

i loooove your band au it's so cute!! do they have a band name? why did the O5 have a falling out and what did jean, bobby, and warren play? i'm imagining they get their first gig at harry's hideaway because he graciously allows them to set up in the corner and play as long as they don't bother anyone lol. rogue and gambit both go (rogue drives them and helps them set up, gambit goes to cheer on storm) and that's how they meet

I’m glad people enjoy my silly band idea. I unfortunately have no idea what they would call themselves, but I’m sure some ridiculous ideas were proposed from each member. I’d love to hear ideas.

Ah, the O5… I think they split up because of a combination of reasons. 1.) Worthington Senior urging Warren to return home as Worthington Industries’ heir. 2.) Jean going to a prep school so she can graduate early be the professor’s intern in mutant politics. 3.) Hank’s plans to intern at Stark Industries, which he ultimately doesn’t go through with after he transforms. Of course, there would be petty drama on the side that would further strain things, but those three would probably be the main reasons.

I think Hank looking into Stark Industries would be a big contributor because Bobby would feel betrayed. They promised to stay together, and after Bobby learned about Warren and Jean’s situations, he at least thought that he would have Hank. So, to catch Hank researching about a full time internship would really hurt.

I also think that Warren would initially do everything in his power not to return home until he learns about Jean’s plans. He thinks she’s only doing this because it’s what the professor wants, but then he learns Jean is actually really looking forward to this. I also think he’s bitter about Scott’s encouragement of Jean’s plans, because it’s splitting their group apart. And then when Bobby and Hank finally have their confrontation, he feels like trying to ignore his fate is childish and he should just give in to his father’s plans.

They all used to live at the institute together, but then Warren returned home and Jean is abroad at her prep school. It’s very tense between Scott, Hank, and Bobby, but Scott and Hank eventually making up again probably makes Bobby get over his hurt. He didn’t really take the band as seriously as the others; he just wanted to hang out with his friends. Bobby would later show up to the band’s gigs as support, and who knows… maybe Warren and Jean would, as well.

Scott played the drums, Jean was the pianist, Hank was guitar, Warren was vocals (and maybe another guitar player), and Bobby was bass.

Back to the current band set up, Gambit 100% comes to their performances, which eventually leads him to meet Rogue;

Gambit is already the band’s uncle, so it makes sense that he hits it off with the band’s new aunt. Mr. Logan found Gambit suspicious at first (and to be fair, Mr. Logan is at least 80% sure he saw Gambit pickpocket someone from across the room), but when he sees how much Gambit cares for Storm, he begrudgingly lets go of his suspicions. He still keeps a watchful eye over Gambit and Rogue’s interactions, though. Rogue’s still his child.

Bahhh, so many fun ideas with this. I think it would be really cute if other X-Men are thrown into the mix. They may not be a part of the band, but they still contribute to the chaos of the private school (I think it would be funny if Piotr was an art club member who does art for the band, and Sean was one of their sound crew guys. Any ideas for other X-Men?).

[luxaofhesperides]

Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?” 

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well. 

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

[fangsandfeels]

I think about protective Astarion a lot:

I strongly support the idea that he is Tav's protector as much as Tav is his. He is more closed about discussing his concerns with others - even on happily concluding the romance, he maintains his coy behavior and rebuffs all attempts at prying. But as always, there is a lot going on under the layers.

- I believe he stops seeing Tav as his protector/meatshield even a bit prior to the confession. He has always been more comfortable with “I’ll watch your back if you watch mine” arrangement, but he only fully embraces it after either Tav takes his side in his argument with Araj or helps him murder the orthon and learn more about his scars. Before that, he still subconsciously relies on Tav for safety to the point of rationalizing the necessity to do what he doesn’t want to do just because Tav told him to.

- His best and usual protective side is that he is always there to catch Tav when they fall. To drag them to safety, help them get up, and keep them going. He is there to talk and hear them out when something is weighing down on them. He drops all this flamboyant flirtatiousness he wears when discussing his relationship with others the very instant Tav needs him. He is calm, firm, and attentive because Tav needs him. Being strong for someone else is a very new feeling for him, but it also comes naturally. He doesn't like seeing his partner in pain, but finding himself as someone's source of strength and support is life-changing for him. He likes to realize that he is capable of caring about someone. That part of him is still alive. Like no other, Astarion knows that sometimes you can’t slay all the monsters and terrors that haunt your loved one, but you can be there for them when they fight their own battles. And that’s what he does. His approach is similar to Karlach’s in that regard: if you can’t walk, I’ll carry you, if you need a hand, you have mine, you you need to talk, my ears are all yours.

- After he stops seeing Tav as a protector, he is much more aware of Tav’s vulnerability. Tav isn’t invincible. Tav gets hurt. Tav can be in danger. It becomes particularly glaring when it’s revealed that they all haven’t turned yet because a rogue illithid holds their lives in its webbed hands. A rogue illithid who was lying about a cure all this time. Who never had any intention of removing the tadpole. Who saw ceremorphosis as something good. The Emperor has almost the same hold on Tav and all of them as Cazador on his spawns. It would have puppeteered them into doing its bidding hadn’t it been spending its energy on resisting the brain. This is why Astarion calls Tav a “mindflayer thrall” during their argument. Because this is what they are as long as their safety depends on the Emperor’s good mood. It’s not their fault, really. But Astarion clearly has been thinking about it and worried about it. He probably wished not to be stuck between a rock and a hard place for once, not having to choose between two evils, to be strong enough to get them both out of it. So, he doesn’t exactly lie or try to manipulate Tav when he says he wants to keep them both safe. He wants it. He hates to be helpless, but what he hates even more is to watch Tav trying to keep their spirits up and looking for a way out of their predicament while thing just invades Tav's dreams or invites itself into their skull whenever it wishes. He hates wondering what will happen if the Emperor stops playing nice one day. Oh, if only he could be stronger.

- In general, it seems that he is most riled up and protective of Tav when there is a particular type of threat. Tav can handle themselves in a fight. They take a beating sometimes, but they bounce back (what can’t be said about the other guy) and if they don’t find a fight, the fight finds them. Astarion knows it and he doesn’t really mind. He loves the thrill: his spawn endings made it clear that the man embraces the chaos of making decisions and choosing paths with a smile. Danger is part of the fun. It makes his heart beat.

- He generally does his best to be strong for Tav, just like they stay strong for him. But there are also moments when Tav is in danger, and Astarion sees red. And I imagine it’s not only when Tav ends up at the death’s door. It’s also when something directly challenges Tav’s autonomy. A crazy drow wants to run experiments on Tav? Absolutely not, what the fuck? Even if Tav agrees, Astarion is still uncomfortable with the thought and doesn't hide it. Had Araj tried to force her experimentation on the unwilling Tav or trick them into participating, she would have been turned into a dagger cushion very quickly. Cazador calls Tav cattle (another lover to follow Astarion and lose everything, even their right to their soul and body, because of him)? The mere thought of it, the association, the hint at him being a failure dragging his lover down with him makes Astarion lose his composure and just go for the jugular. The idea of Tav enduring the same abuse or being forcibly changed terrifies him. When Tav does it to themselves, it hurts already. However, if someone does it to Tav without letting Tav have any say, then Astarion would go absolutely feral. If that someone can be stabbed, they will be stabbed. If they can’t be stabbed, Astarion WILL find a way to stab them and eviscerate them. Then, regardless of whether Tav is alright or not, Astarion will experience an emotional breakdown that he will then refuse to discuss with anyone else. He has come a long way, but certain negative emotions are still too much to handle.

[kayesfanfics]

Being in Love With Rogue (Unrequited) (Fem! Reader)

A/N: Sorry yall but she’s my girlfriend, I fought Magneto and Gambit and won and now I kiss her every night

Warnings: Unrequited love, ANGST

Oh, it was so obvious to everyone in the Mansion how much you looked up to and adored the feisty southern Belle. She was absolutely beautiful, so strong and independent, never took any shit from anyone, and very headstrong and opinionated, what was there not to like about her? She was perfect, except…she was with Gambit, her soulmate. You couldn’t help but hate the swamp rat, wanting to be in his place so badly. Everyone could sense your feelings about the two of them, everyone except for Rogue herself. When you saw them kiss, you had the leave the room because of the anger boiling in you, and the sharp sting to your heart knowing he could touch her but you’d never be able to

Luckily almost everyone in the Mansion knew exactly what it was like seeing the one you were in love with love somebody else. Well, except Jean and Scott, but everyone else. Morph would sometimes make jokes about it, Wolverine would tell him to shut up and leave you be, Storm would rest a hand on your shoulder in silent comfort, Beast would say some intelligent quote you didn’t quite care about. You’d never fully quite come out to the team as sapphic, but it was painfully obvious and they accepted you without question. Jubilee and Roberto would often ask why you never told her your feelings for her before she had gotten with Gambit, but you never could answer them. Maybe you were too shy, too afraid of what she’d say, you didn’t know. But you knew she wouldn’t truly want to be with you if she couldn’t touch you, no matter how badly you wanted her

“Don’t worry kid, you’ll get over her soon enough.” Wolverine would say

“Maybe Gambit will turn her gay soon, who knows! He has awful guy habits.” Morph would quip

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring ourselves.” Beast would quote

“Perhaps you should talk to her, get some of it off of your chest.” Storm would agree

None of it helped, you couldn’t bring yourself to make her love life more complicated after all that Magneto and Gambit drama she had dealt with a few months ago. You didn’t need her to know, you didn’t see any point in it, nothing would change for you. You’d excuse yourself from your friends and go to your room to wallow, still feeling hopelessly heartbroken after watching Gambit dip and kiss her in the middle of the basketball court

Gambit was fully aware you had a crush on his girlfriend. He wasn’t upset about it, he knew exactly how you felt, but you refused to talk to him about it or let him help you in any way. You were bitter and jealous of him, even if he was nothing but chill and nice to you. He did make an effort not to flaunt his relationship too much in your face, but he couldn’t help it if Rogue wanted a kiss from him while you happened to be there, it’s not like he’s deny her and you understood that

One day during a mission, things went south and Rogue got hurt badly. You couldn’t stop yourself from running to her to help, only to be beat by Gambit rushing over to help his girlfriend. You forced yourself to refocus back on the attacking Sentinels, feeling your feelings finally boil over and you raged against the robots, blasting them to bits and punching them far after they were down. You finally stopped when your knuckles bled profusely and tears overflowed your eyes, making you sob into your hands in a pile of broken machinery. You heard Morph and Jean trying to get your attention and ask you what was wrong, but you had been bottling up your feelings for so long you couldn’t hold them back anymore

“Y/N? What’s wrong, sugah?”

You looked behind you to see Rogue standing with some of the others, concern warping her face as she held her injured arm. You stared at her pretty face for a moment before quickly wiping your face and standing up, feeling like an immature child in front of them all. You whispered a quick “nothing” before attempting to leave, only to be stopped by Rogue grabbing your shoulder

“Y/N, we used ta be best friends! You can tell me! I don’t know what changed, but I want ta help ya!” She pleased with you, the other X-Men taking the hint and shuffling over to another area to let the two of you talk. Gambit made eye contact with you and gave you a nod, before joining the others out of earshot

“R-Rogue, I…I can’t tell you!” You cried out, dissolving into tears yet again right in front of her

“Of course ya can! You could tell me ya loved my boyfriend and I’d still listen!” She sat down with you in the rubble of the fight, tucking some of your messy hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched at the comment, knowing she was very close to being correct

“That’s uh…sorta the problem.” You finally admitted, looking down at your lap on shame. “Except…cept it’s not him I love…”

Rogue stared at you in confusion for a moment, before everything clicked in her head. Oh. That explains why you distanced yourself from her, stopped sharing everything with her, stopped coming to her when you needed someone, didn’t want to be friends with her anymore…

“Oh, Y/N.” She sighed, raising a hand to hold your chin to make you look at her. “Honey, I had no idea. I just thought…I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry. If I had known I wouldn’t’a been so…I’m so sorry!” She tugged you into a hug, her own eyes tearing up

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just…I didn’t want to complicate things for you even more. I didn’t want to be a burden on you.” You shyly hugged back, your first hug in what felt like forever. You buried your face in her fluffy hair, breathing in her scent and holding onto her tightly

“You could never be a burden on me, sweetie! I should’ve seen it, now that you say that it was so obvious! I didn’t mean to ignore you or make you feel like I didn’t care about ya! I do! I love ya! Just…not in the way ya want me to.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to! I shouldn’t have been such a baby and just told you, woulda saved me a lot of heartache. Storm was right about that.”

“Aw man, did everybody know but me?” She laughed, pulling away and wiping her eyes of tears

“Kind of.” You giggled, wiping your own tears and smiling up at her

After that mission, your friendship was mended and you went back to telling her everything and going to her if you needed her. She was more mindful of PDA around you and didn’t talk to you about Remy unless you were okay with it (you were especially okay with it when they were fighting and he did some stupid shit). Your other friends were glad to see the two of you finally talking and being the duo you had always been, but you still drank with Wolverine and cried about her to him, who wasn’t fully paying attention to you and probably thinking of a certain red head he loved…

[lanitalay]

In the cover of night, star-crossed lovers meet.

a/n: I'm back from the dead!!! this time with Covid. Enjoy this lil Cassian x autumn court princess drabble.

Pairing: Cassian x y/n (autumn court princess)

word count: 1k

warnings: mentions of scars and implied violence

“I’m not worth fighting a war over.” Your eyes cloud as the plea falls on deaf ears. 

“Yes you are.”

You brush the rogue strands that frame his face behind his ears, placing both your hands firmly on his cheeks. “No, Cassian, I’m not.” His thumbs are drawing circles on your hips, feeling the heat rise. 

“You’d do the same for me.” 

“I’d think twice about it.” Your hands were on his chest now, firm. 

“What alternative do I have?” 

Here you were, back to the same place you always ended up. Your hand was promised to a lord from the Continent. Your father found it advantageous to match his only daughter with a wealthy male across the sea. Prythian was becoming too tumultuous for his liking, the tides were turning in favor of Night and he would rather have you shipped away. Securing funding for the battles that were sure to be waged soon. He did not account for your resistance and utter refusal to marry. 

The gods gave you a kindness, the male refused to take you without consent. 

But the betrothal still stood. 

Mikaiel would visit once every few months. Beron was furious at the delay. His torments have become more violent, intent on making you succumb. 

“I-” there was no alternative. If you joined him in Velaris on your own accord or if he knocked you unconscious and dragged you there it would all end the same. “You could always find some-”

His grip on you tightened, a warning to not finish the sentiment. “There is no one for me but you.” It was supposed to come out rougher than it did. But the general was tired of making his case for your love. “We’ve been through this a million times-”

“And my point stands, Cassian. If only one person gets hurt because of this… it would be too much. The Night Court is strong, and loyal and I’d argue bloodthirsty-” Cassian opens his mouth to object but you go on “-but Autumn is not. My father, yes. Our people, no and they would be the ones who take the brunt of battle.” 

He lowers his forehead to yours. “I can’t keep meeting in secret like this, y/n.” 

“The alternative is not worth it.” His grip changes to your wrist and he lifts the long sleeve of your gown up to your elbow. “This is not worth it either, you are not saving anyone by letting him burn you piece by piece.” 

You step back and yank the sleeve back down. “It’s only until I wed and it isn’t anything I haven’t handled before.” He’s ridiculous if he thinks that you’d send your people, most of whom are farmers, to war over a few burn marks. 

“If your people saw your skin they’d riot too, you know. They’d fight for you if given the chance.”

Your eyes roll before you can stop them. “My people will never fight for me, they will follow the commands of the High Lord and general, even if it leads to no good end.” 

“And marrying a lord in the continent will save them from what exactly? You father isn’t trying to secure funds for Court Peace you know.” 

He closes the gap between you again, breath ragged. “Y/n, my love, war will come no matter what. I’d rather you be by my side when it does. Not in some palace where I’d never see you again. We have wards, powerful wards that will keep you safe-”

“It’s like you’re not listening to me!” You swat his hands away. “It matters naught to me if I am safe! It's my people, my brothers, my mother who will suffer while I lay behind wards.”

“Do you want me to kill Beron?”

“Watch what you say.”

“I’m serious, I’ll rip his throat out if that’s what it takes, I’ll raise my army against him right now if it means you’ll be happy and safe and mine.” 

“Cassian… he’s High Lord-”

“Say the word and he’s dead, y/n. I’m your sword and your shield. I’m yours entirely-” 

“Stop talking.” You run your hands through your hair… not a war but an assassination. Eris is ready, you’re sure of it. Mother would be free. The Court would be free. You’d be free. 

“I have- I’d have to talk to Eris.”

Cassian’s brows shoot up to his hairline. “You can’t tell anyone about this conversation, y/n.”

“He’s heir, if you want me to agree he must vow to not wage war against Night.”

“My love-”

You hold your hand up “that’s my condition.”

“Don’t you think he’d be warning Beron before we get the chance to-”

You cross your arms on your chest. “If you think my arms are bad you should see his back, Cassian. He won’t warn him, but he deserves the heads up.”

He sighs and rubs his eyes. Mentally arranging the pieces so this plan might work. He needs you home, desperate to see you free from the confines of the Forest House and the cold chambers of the Hewn City. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine what?” 

He cups your face “How you escape your current situation is up to you. I’ll do as you wish.” 

You soften under him. “I love you, you know that?” Half his mouth quirks to a lazy smile. 

“You make me crazy, and if it were up to me I’d demolish Prythian entirely just to kiss these lips.” 

“And?” 

He chuckles. “I love you.”