#or the dagger is coming from him and stabbing her

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

“One less temptress. One less dagger to sharpen” makes me think she was just constantly on edge and questioning his actions and relationships with other women and feeling like she had something to point to in case she got hurt.

[7seas-of-ryy]

Hangover Cure

Author’s Note: This is an idea I've had for a while! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Summary: Rhys and Cassian know how to have fun...and distract you from your crush on Azriel :)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Platonic!Rhys x Reader, Platonic!Cassian x Reader

Warnings: drinking, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"I swear I will stab both of you with my dagger if you don't stop." You growled at Cassian and Rhys.

"You're not nearly as intimidating as you think." Rhys smirked.

"Actually, I'm kind of terrified of her." Cassian spoke up.

The three of you were walking around Velaris, enjoying an unusual day off. The Archeron girls were all having a 'sister night' and they had offered you to join them but you wanted them to have their time together after everything they went through.

Azriel was off checking up on certain Courts making sure they were all staying in line. Rhys told him he needed to relax and could have the day off but the Night Court Spymaster insisted on it.

Mor had quickly taken off this morning saying she had places to be, which we all knew meant she was off to have a fun time. And Amren was off with Varian.

You were stuck with Rhys and Cassian to keep you company. As you were enjoying the views and shops, the topic of your love life had come up. They wouldn't leave you alone, claiming they were the best wing men and could help you.

After you threatened them with your dagger you had hoped they would get the message that you did not want to talk. Unfortunately, they know you love them like brothers and wouldn't actually hurt them.

So, you asked if they wanted to go to Rita's for a drink because if you had to deal with those two idiots for the rest of the day, you wouldn't be sober.

A couple hours and many drinks later, the three of you were having a good time. Your stomach hurt from laughing so much. Eventually, Cass brought up your love life again and this time your tongue was much looser due to the alcohol.

"Listen, y/n, we just want you to be happy. We know you like someone, you deny every single males invitation to dinner. You wouldn't do that if you didn't already have somebody in your sights." Rhys said

"And whoever it is, is a lucky bastard. You're the best person I know, c'mon tell us" Cass added

"If I tell you, will you two idiots shut up?" You asked and they both nodded quickly, the head motion making Cassian nearly fall out of his chair

"It's... Azriel" you whispered and winced, you never planned on anyone ever knowing about your crush.

"YOU LIKE AZ?!" Cassian shouted and you quickly shushed him

"Shut up! No one can know, and especially not Az. Do you understand me? You are the only 2 that know so if he finds out, I'll know it was one of you and I know where you sleep." you threatened

Rhys was simply smirking at you this entire time, while Cassian's eyes got wide at the threat.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to admit you liked him" Rhys spoke.

Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen.

"You knew???" You frantically asked

"Of course I did. 'Azriel, you look so nice today' 'Azriel, you're so big and strong and sexy and I want you to-" Rhys mocked you and you smacked his arm, quickly shutting him up.

Cassian was nearly on the floor laughing so hard at Rhys' impression of you.

"I do not sound like that! And I have never said that either!" You defended yourself.

"Why don't you tell him?" Rhys asked

"Because he's my friend and he doesn't like me like that." you told him

"But what if-" Cassian started and you cut him off

"Stop. I see the way he looks at Elain. He feels for her like I do for him. And he deserves that happiness, she would be perfect for him. So I will never tell him and you are to never speak of this again. If not for me, at least for him. I cannot lose his friendship." you pleaded, the room starting to feel too hot

The males in front of you understood the fear of losing someone so close to you but they knew their brother liked you too. They couldn't be the ones to tell you. They would just have to get Azriel to confess to you himself.

For now, they would ensure you had fun with them.

"I have an idea, lets go back to the house and get really drunk all night long and have fun and that way, we won't think of any of this sad stuff." Cassian suggested

"I'm in" you and Rhys said at the same time.

Once you got back to the house, you all started with shots. You remember dancing and laughing and then the rest of the night was a blur.

You woke up with a painful throbbing in your head. You were laying on something firm and not comfortable. And there was a very heavy weight on top of you.

"Do you think they're dead?" you could hear Feyre speak

"No, but they're going to wish they were when they wake up with a nasty hangover." you heard Azriel respond

As you opened your eyes, you got used to the light while you looked around. You were on the floor in the living room. There were two large legs on you, one on your torso and one on your own legs. As you inspected further, they belonged to Cassian.

You slowly, so slowly sat up. Turning to look behind you, you saw that you had been using Rhys' back and right arm as a pillow. He was sprawled out, drooling on the ground.

Turning back around, you could see Feyre and Azriel standing watching the three of you with smirks on their faces.

"Good morning darling" Azriel spoke

"Shhhh, not so loud" you whispered

The pair chuckled and Cass and Rhys started to wake up.

"What were we thinking?" Cass asked

"Are you wearing my socks on your hands?" you asked, pointing at him

Cassian looked down at his hands and looked back at you.

"I think my hands were cold and I said I needed gloves so you offered your socks." he answered

"And who's leathers are you wearing?" Azriel asked you, his eyes darkening as he spoke.

You looked down at yourself and realized you were wearing leathers that were way too big on you.

"They're mine. Y/N had warded them so that if anything hit them, it would ricochet off and we wanted to test it out." Rhys began

"Did it work?" Feyre asked

The three of you on the ground turned your heads to look at the wall that had a hole in it. Then you turned to look at Cassian who was covered in drywall. The memories of Cassian running and jumping at you only to be thrown through the wall came back to you.

"Yes, it worked exceptionally well. Y/N is brilliant in her field." Rhys answered.

"It sent Cassian through the wall, didn't it?" Azriel deadpanned

"You know, I was going to say I feel like I got thrown through a wall so that makes sense." Cassian answered

"Alright I think you three need real rest. C'mon Rhys, lets go lay down. Nesta is coming to bring Cassian home. Az, can you help Y/N?" Feyre asked

"Of course" the shadowsinger responded

He walked over to you and picked you up. His shadows began immediately caressing your face and head. He flew you home and helped you get into bed where you quickly fell asleep.

A few hours later, you woke up. Looking over at your bedside table, you saw a water, a tonic, and a note.

"Y/N - please take the tonic and drink the water. It will help with the hangover -Azriel"

You smiled and did as he told you then you heard some shuffling in your living room. Getting up to inspect, you could hear Azriel talking to his shadows.

"Az?" you spoke

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked

"No, I was awake before I heard you. What're you still doing here?" you asked him. It's not that you didn't want him there, but you felt bad because he probably had work to do and you were holding him up.

"I wanted to make sure you were ok," he spoke, then with a teasing tone added, "I take it the three of you had a fun time last night?"

Your cheeks immediately felt hot.

"Yeah, something like that," you answered, "Were you talking to your shadows?"

"It seems they don't want to listen to me right now. Earlier, I was going to go grab you some food but they refused to leave you so I had to leave them here with you. And I was trying to get them to leave you alone so they wouldn't bother you but they are being stubborn." the shadowmaster explained

"They never bother me." you told him and the shadows shot out to you, as if you gave them all the permission they needed.

They swirled all over you and through your hair and you giggled.

"Traitors" he mumbled to them and went to grab the food from the table.

Right as he was about to ask if you wanted to eat any of it right now, there was a knock at your door. It was Nesta and Cassian.

They were holding up more food, Cassian looked as bad as you felt.

"Cassian told me that you outdrank him so I wanted to bring you this food." Nesta spoke, it was the kindest thing she had ever done for you.

"You outdrank him?!" Az sputtered

"Yeah yeah, lets just eat" Cassian said and you agreed

The four of you sat down to eat and Az continued asking you about your night.

"So how exactly did everything happen last night?" he said with a smile

"Well, we were having some drinks at Rita's and then..." you stopped to think of a lie, "they ran out of my favorite drink so we headed back to Rhys' and just continued the drinking there."

"Your memory must still be foggy, Cassian said you went back to Rhys' because you were sad and they wanted to cheer you up." Nesta stated

Your eyes narrowed on Cassian and he froze. His eyes went wide with terror.

"Why were you sad?" Az asked you with concern

"Cassian." you grit his name through your teeth, ignoring the spymaster

"Nesta its time to go." Cassian quickly said getting up from the table

"What-" Nesta started

Cassian practically yanked her from her chair and as they were about to fly away, you and Az could hear Cassian tell Nesta he was terrified of you and something along the lines of you knowing where he sleeps.

"What was all that about?" Az asked you

"Its nothing, I was a little sad so we drank and it was a fun night, that's all that matters." you said quickly

"No, if you are sad about anything at all then it is not nothing." The shadowsinger said firmly

You knew he wasn't going to let it go anytime soon and you needed to rest. So, you told him...most of it.

"Fine. I like someone and they don't like me back." you admitted

"What?" Az spoke and you could see the hurt flash in his eyes but he quickly shook his head as if to hide his emotions.

"Who wouldn't like you back, you're beautiful, kind, and extremely intelligent. Whoever it is, they're a fool." He told you

You let a breath out through your nose, you figured it was now or never. And if you guys were truly as close friends as you thought, then that wouldn't change no matter what.

"It's you." you mumbled

"Huh?" he breathed

"I'm in love with you," you blurted, "but I know you like Elain and I don't want things to be weird between us so I never told you."

"I don't like Elain. Not like that at least. Sure, she's my friend but I'm not in love with her... I love you, Y/N." he confessed

You couldn't believe what he was saying. Surely, he must be trying to save your feelings.

"Az, it's ok. You don't have to do this. I can handle rejection." You wanted him to know you would be ok.

Instead of responding, he stepped close to you and pulled you in by your hips. He moved one of his hands to your face and brought you impossibly closer. Your lips met and it was as if this was everything you had been missing in life.

After a few moments, it started to turn more passionate and he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth and he groaned at the noise.

Eventually you two pulled apart and you were left breathless.

"Do you believe me now?" He questioned

You nodded, not trusting your voice after that.

"Would you like to finish eating and then go lay down together? You still must not feel well after all that alcohol last night." he spoke

"Actually, I feel great right now. Let's just skip the food and go straight to laying down together." you suggested

"Hmm it seems like I might be the best hangover cure." Az joked

"I think you're right" You told him as you grabbed his hand, leading him to your bed.

Later That Night

"I think Rhys, Cass, and I stole a tree last night" you spoke, deep in thought

"You three are never allowed to hang out alone together again." Az stated

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

@darkbloodsly @xtreme-shipper @rcarbo1 @shamelessdonutkryptonite @anna-reader-blog

@favsrachz @julesvanslutta @kitsunetori @i-am-infinite @cat-or-kitten

@tele86 @popcornlauncher @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @anxious-cactus @amara-moonlight

@whosmys @vanserrasimp @whoevenfrickenknows @secondratecomplaint @fightmedraco

@watermelomsuger @lillilwil @kaitttttttt @andreperez11 @irelanrose

@myromanempiree @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @thestartitaness @macimads @shizukestar

@iluvyewman-blog @mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @secret-sheee @mariahoedt

@lilah-asteria @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @sinfully-yoursss @hellohauntedturnstudent @acourtofbatboydreams

@halo-mystic @tenshis-cake @vhjlucky13 @littlelunatica @blessthepizzaman

@miadialila

[courtofcrescent]

Your kingdom has lost the war. The Royal Family is dead, including your mistress, the Old King's beloved concubine. Following her last command, you are forced to bend your knees to the new ruler. You continue to live your life as a dutiful high servant, striving to maintain normalcy as best you can, until one moonlit night, you accidentally uncover a terrifying secret... and attract dangerous attention.

Thus begins your new life as the Royal Consort, navigating the intrigue of your old-yet-new Court, all while guarding The Secret with your life.

"May Luxen always shine upon you."

Play as a male or female bearing the title of Royal Consort.

Romance the Ruler with a questionable reputation who is your now lawful partner; the Knight with a piercing gaze who follows you like a devoted shadow; the scandalous nouveau riche who happens to be the Minister of Entertainment; the striking Cousin who prefers the company of books; or a secret... something?

Join the exquisite intrigue of the Court by planning lavish parties, attending charitable events, or simply lying in your pavilion all day in hope to avoid assassination attempts—or perhaps even plot some yourself.

Acquire an expensively crafted dagger... and stab a few people in the back—or you know, a charming smile works too!

Embrace your new royal life with all its privileges and responsibilities—or find yourself trapped in misery, contemplating your choices.

Secrets. Hidden Truths. Lies. You name it.

Here's the list of romantic options who may or may not desire the demise of the Royal Consort. Questionable information. Proceed with extreme caution.

MALLORY d'ASTRUM | THE RULER (M)

Formerly the enemy commander who slew the Old King, Mallory now become the new Ruler who reigns over the Court of Crescent—your beloved kingdom's new moniker. A member of the Imperial House Astrum, you were familiar with his rumors long before the Empire invaded your kingdom. Wolf of War, they said, so that's why you are quite... baffled when you find him as tame as a pampered royal dog, for lack of better words. Did you hear the right rumors? Were all the bard's tales lies? Is this sweets-loving gentleman truly the same vicious commander once called the Beast of Battle?

"My Moonshine, would you care for a dance with your partner?"

VIVIAN d'BENITO | THE KNIGHT (F)

Every royal family member always has a loyal personal Knight, and so do you. Vivian is the very epitome of a guard on duty, according to your etiquette book. Silent yet attentive, her gaze never strays far from you. Obedient yet firm, she grants any wishes of yours as long as they do not clash with Mallory. Vivian has sworn an oath to protect you from any external threats, however can you trust your life to a knight who serves the Imperial House that destroyed the former royal family? Can you trust any oath that passes the lips of a former member of the Knights of Raven?

"I'm yours to command, Your Serene Highness."

ELLIS EDSELLY | THE MINISTER (M)

Scandal, scandal, and more scandal. Ellis's life is never dull, if the rumors are true. Raised to power by the very incident that destroyed the former royal family, he has garnered quite a reputation. Some despise him, some commend him, some licking his boots—or licking much more. Ellis accepts them all with a grin and a wink. If life is a stage, surely the Minister of Entertainment has the center seat. A commoner turned merchant turned noble, he has certainly climbed the power ladder quite high. You wonder, will he continue to ascend even further?

"Let us raise our glass to the night of merriment!"

SORIN FLAVENY | THE COUSIN (F)

You don't know why your reclusive, anti-court great uncle grants his blessing to send your second cousin to the Court. The last time you met Sorin was when both of you were still nursing, thus your impression of her mostly comes from your other cousin's words. Citrine of Flaveny, or so you've been told, her beauty shines like gems under the sunlight, captivating countless suitors. A face of great asset, yet from her very first gathering, you hear that Sorin always curls herself up in the solitude of the palace library. Why does she even bother to come to the Court?

"Cousin! Ah, I mean, Your Majes—Serene Highness! You have a very nice home. So... yellow."

???? | T̵H̸E̸ ̶E̴N̵I̶G̵M̸A̷?̷

G̶o̶.̵ ̷S̴t̵a̴y̶.̷ ̷G̷o̵!̶ ̵S̴t̷a̴y̴!̴ ̵N̶o̸!̸ ̴D̸o̶n̴'̸t̴!̶ ̸Y̷E̷S̸!̸!̴!̴

"Y̶o̷u̴.̵ ̴A̸r̸e̶.̷ ̷M̸I̷N̵E̸!!!!"

Court of Crescent is rated 18+ for mature themes, death and near death experience, blood and violence, alcohol and drugs, sexual content, morally questionable behaviours, really morally questionable behaviours, and more.

[DEMO COMING SOON]

FALL 2024

[under construction]

[the20thangel]

The Shocking Prize for the Raven Knight.

Summary: While attacking a Green camp, Benjicot finds the missing Targaryen!reader princess that the Greens managed to kidnap and frees her. As they return to Kingslanding, Rhaenyra surprises everyone with the choice of gratitude she wishes to bestow on the lord for saving her daughter.

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist

Benjicot led his men through the Lannister camp, going through the men like they were training dummies. Red and gold fell to his men, red and black proudly waving Queen Rhaenyra’s flag. Pathetic, he thought, these Lannister men were like their lord, a loin with no claws or bite. 

As his men continued fighting through the Lannister, Benjicot focused on the second part of his mission. He was finding the lost princess. He received a raven about how Rhaenyra’s daughter was taken during the Battle of Gullet after Prince Jacaerys was killed. The princess's dragon died during the battle is killed, similar to Vermx, Prince Jacaerys’ mount. This forced the princess to be held captive and was going to be essentially sold as a prize to Prince Aemond. Luckily, the prince perished Under God’s Eye from Daemon. So the captive princess was held now as a war prisoner, trying to see how much they could get away before returning her to her mother, who grew more and more desperate to have her daughter back at her side. 

As he weaved through the camp and tents, he got worried, not finding any Targaryen princess and trying to remember the appearance he described. Black hair with violet eyes. It should have been hard to find since Lannisters were known for their golden blond hair, not black, but no princess was still in sight. As he grew increasingly stressed about not finding a princess, he saw one more tent in a lone corner towards the end of the camp. 

Quickly scanning his surroundings for any knight, Benjicot ran to the tent flap to see someone kneeing at the ground, their head covered by a veil. He knew from the structure that it was a woman kneeling. Walking towards the figure, he tried to be silent, not wanting to alert any knight outside. As he slowly reached her, he placed his hand on her shoulder. 

“Excuse me, my lady-” 

Benjicot was interrupted when suddenly the mysterious woman turned, reaching for his dagger. She tripped him as he tried to block her, making him fall to the ground. He felt a weight on his chest as he looked up. Seeing a beautiful maiden with black hair and violet hardened eyes glaring at him as she held his dagger to his throat. His breath was physically and metaphorically taken away from him. Queen Rhaenyra’s daughter was a force to be reckoned with. 

Once the princess heard footsteps coming to her tent, she feared it was that awful Lannister lord or Aemond. She decided she would rather die trying to kill them and freeing herself than being taken by those dreadful men. As she attacked the knight and went to stab him, she was blocked, forcing herself to notice the red and black colors. Recognizing them as House Blackwood, the princess quickly stood up from his chest, allowing Benjicot to sit up as he stared at her with wonder. 

“My apologies, my lord. I have wrongly mistaken you for a Lannister or Aemond.” She apologized, moving a hand to him and helping him stand off the ground. 

Not releasing her hand, Benjicot assessed her for any damage to her body; seeing she looked healthy enough, he sighed. Queen Rhaenyra would be glad to hear her daughter was safe and sound. 

Benjicot smiled, bowing and kissing her hand, “No, my princess. It should be I apologizing. Knowing that enemies are around this camp, I should not have sneaked behind you.” 

The ebony-haired princess smiled at the lord, “Then, as long as we both accept our apologies, there should be no bad blood around us.” 

As Benji was about to speak, they both heard a shout from the entrance, seeing Lord Jason staring at them red-faced. Huffing in anger, the Lannister lord yelled as he charged towards the young duo. Benjicot braced for him, raising his sword as the two began to duel with the dragon princess stalking around them. Benjicot grinned widely; this lord was clumsy in his sword fighting, quickly finding the upper hand as he slashed Jason Lanninser on his legs, causing the golden loin to yell in pain and sink to the floor. As Jason glared at Benjioct, he spat, claiming how his brother in Kingslanding would make House Blackwood pay for treason—going further in saying how he will have two beauties, Aly Blackwood and the princess. Making Benjicot stiffen in anger, but before the Lord of Casterly Rock could continue in his word rampage, he was cut off by a dagger slashing his throat. This caused the lord to choke on his blood, flopping down on the ground with a thud. 

In shock and wonder, Benji raised his sight again as the princess sneered at the dead lord. 

“He disgustedly talks too much; I have grown tired of his moronic speaking. The realm will be relieved to be rid of him.” stated the princess, using her trousers to wipe off the blood from the dagger as she returned it to Benji. The Raven lord grinned, shaking his head. 

“Keep it, princess, you have a talent with the dagger; let it keep you safe on your journey home.” explained the lord, smiling at seeing the princess grin back at him. 

As the lord and princess sneaked out of the tent, they saw that the Blackwood men were joined by the Stark men, leading to victory over the greens. Smiling, the princess greeted Cregan Stark, who clapped Benjicot for finding the princess and exclaimed that he was glad the princess was safe and sound. Aly Blackwood introduced herself to the princess, asking her to join her in her tent to refresh before they made their way to Kingslanding. 

The princess furrowed her brows, “Kingslanding, why not Dragonstone?” 

The trio paused, forgetting that the princess could not know how the war was transpiring. 

Benjicot stared at the group before sighing as he turned to the princess, “Your mother, Queen Rhaenyra, has been able to take hold of Kingslanding from the greens. That is why Jason Lannister seemed desperate. He clings that his brother Tyland could lead a rebellion against your mother from the dark cells. He is wrong.” snorted Benjicot in the hilarious thought of the Lanniesters. 

The Princess nodded, relieved her mother was well and finally able to reclaim her throne from Aegon and his green harpies. Grinning, she expressed her desire to travel as fast as possible to Kingslanding; she wanted to reunite with her mother quickly. As they planned, it was decided that Benjicot and the princess would ride together, seeing how battles still needed to be fought closer to the storm lands and crownlands. Traveling with a vast army would only cause a larger target on the princess. 

The Princess changed her clothes to House Blackwood to try and become unrecognizable to any allies of Aegon. As she exited the tent, she greeted Benji, who once again had his breath taken away from her beauty, especially when she saw her in his house's colors. 

“How do I look, my Lord?” questioned the princess teasingly as she spun around for him. 

Gulping, Benji smiled at the princess, his cheeks heating up, “A true beauty, my princess, but may I ask for you to call me Ben.” 

Laughing at his cheeks, the princess replied, “Very well, Ben, please call me by my name rather than my princess.” 

The two leave in the cover of night, hoping to reach the red keep in a few days. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Queen Rhaenyra walked with Aegon and Joffrey, a servant quickly came and handed her a raven. Pausing, she quickly opened it once she saw the House Blackwood sigil on it. Rhaenyra gasped in delight. Her daughter was found safely and was in due time to arrive in her arms. Her darling jewel, she raged for days after hearing that Jason Lannister had her captive. She would finally be back to her side, grinning. Rhaenyra shared the news with her boys, laughing as the two young princes rejoiced at being reunited with their beloved sister. 

The day after, Rhaenyra was waiting by the steps of the Iron Throne; the court was buzzing in, seeing the Queen glowing with joy as they eagerly awaited the princess's arrival. As the throne room doors opened, people gasped, seeing the dragon princess walk in proudly wearing House Blackwood clothes with the lord of Raventree Hall grasping her arms and leading her to the Queen. 

As the duo paused before the queen, Benjioct released his princess, moving back a step as he bowed to his queen. Rhaenyra grinned in gratitude at him as she embraced her daughter, whispering how much she missed her. The Princess nearly returned her mother’s embrace, finally letting herself relax. She was safe, and she was home, all thanks to Ben.  As they separated, Rhaenyra called for the court's dismissal. She invited Benjicot for a luncheon but did not allow him to decline, so she walked away, dragging her daughter out. The princess rolled her eyes as she turned back to him. 

“Come on, Ben, join us, please,” pleaded the princess, grinning as she saw him following. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I wanted to thank you again, Lord Blackwood, for bringing my daughter back to me safe and sound,” the queen praised, grinning as she saw him flush red.

Benjicot could feel his cheeks heat up again, not used to being praised by a queen and princess. 

“I would gladly do it again, my queen; it is my honor to serve you.” he shyly spoke, blushing more as both mother and daughter giggled at his shyness. 

“Isn’t he the sweetest mother? Instead of puffing his chest in pride, he is humble in his actions, becoming nervous from praises.” teased the princess, laughing when Ben turned to her with mock betrayal, playfully glaring at her. 

Rhaenyra smiled at the sight; it seemed her daughter and the raven lord had grown close to each other. As the Luncheon continued, she grew more intrigued seeing how easily they spoke, jested with each other, leaving to each other's company. Not only that, but she also saw how he treated her sons. Aegon and Joffrey took a liking to the lord, asking him questions about battles and his sword skills, which the lord happily indulged the young princes every time. 

As the luncheon finished, the Queen stated she needed to think about specific events and that she would see everyone later at court. Bowing, the princess saw her mother leaving with her brothers. Turning to Ben, she grinned, enjoying that she would spend more time with him alone. 

As the two walked around, joking and teasing each other, they did not notice a dragon queen staring. Seeing their ease in each other’s company, she grew confident in her decision, turning away from the window. Rhaneyra allowed herself to become excited about the news she would share later. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, the court was gathered in the throne room. Rhaenyra noticed her daughter finally switched from Blackwood clothes to her Targaryen gowns. She grinned, seeing how Benjioct stared at her daughter with a particular look in his eyes. Facing back to her people, she greeted them. 

“My good people, it is with great pleasure that we celebrate the return of my daughter, your crown princess, home safely.” 

The crowd cheered and clapped joyfully as the princess bowed to her mother. 

Rhaenyra raised her hand, asking for quietness as she continued to speak, “But if it were not for the hard works of Houses Stark and House Blackwood, our princess would have been still lost in the hands of the greens and their allies. Lord Blackwood, please step forward.” 

The crowd again cheered as the young lord stood infront of his queen, kneeling respectfully. 

“Lord Benjicot Blackwood, thank you for bringing my daughter home safely. House Targaryen will always be grateful to House Blackwood… to show my gratitude, I have decided to honor you in a great alliance.” 

The crowd quietly gasped, wondering what alliance and prize would the queen bestow the young lord. 

Smiling, she turned to her daughter for a second before returning her gaze to Benji, “I am proposing, my lord, to create a strong alliance between our two houses in the form of marriage. It is my greatest pleasure to propose my daughter’s hand in marriage to you and you to be her future prince consort.” 

Both princess and lord snapped their eyes to the queen, widening in shock as the crowd gasped—marriage…. a marriage between the raven lord and the beautiful dragon princess. 

Slowly, the princess smiled bashfully, turning her head to Ben, who turned to her, staring and smiling at each other… marriage, they wouldn’t mind marrying.

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

When Gods Listen

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x female!Durge/reader

Summary: Astarion is hit by a memory spell mid-combat. You fear what will happen to him, but Astarion only knows he woke with the answer to his prayers looking down at him.

Word Count: 6,162 words

Warnings: post Astarion's first romance scene, descriptions of battle, Astarion's past, typical Durge thoughts, temporary memory loss, temporary amnesia, Gale being helpful, vampire feeding, a cliche 'oh. oh.' moment, kissing, unspoken confession

Note: Reader is based on my drow half-ef Durge, Nixu, but remains from the second-person perspective with only brief & vague mention of her appearance. My first time writing Durge (resisting), so let me know what you think!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

How long had you been fighting? Ten minutes? An hour? Gods, you didn't know. You couldn't focus on anything other than the weapon in your hand, the number of arrows in your quiver, and the spells you had prepared. Letting your focus stray to your companions had already cost you, proven by the blood running down your arm and the claws that had torn your pants to shreds.

Need new armor, you thought as you slammed a dagger into a goblin's throat. The creature gurgled and clawed at your hands, leaving behind red scratches, until you yanked out the blade. The goblin fell to the blood-soaked ground with a wet thud.

Shadowheart screamed behind you. You heard the snarl of a wolf and turned to find one lunging for her, the cleric frozen in fear. You reached for your bow; Gale was faster, sending a Fire Bolt at the wolf. It snarled and turned on Gale.

You strung an arrow to your bow. You had four left, including this one. Your shot would have to be incredibly precise if you didn't want to get any closer to the wolf; you didn't have enough arrows for do-overs.

Taking aim, you drew back your string, taking a deep breath. Easy does it, you told yourself.

The wolf's body tensed. It sat back on its haunches, ready to lunge for Gale. He was in the middle of preparing a spell; it wouldn't be ready by the time the wolf's jaws were around his throat.

An arrow flew directly into the wolf's jugular. You blinked. Had you loosed your arrow? No. It remained in your fingers, notched to your bowstring.

Your eyes sought out the arrow's source and landed on a pair of red eyes creeping out of the shadows. Astarion slipped out of hiding, his face stony. He held his own bow. He stared down the wolf until it collapsed with a pitiful whine.

Both Gale and Shadowheart turned to other enemies, knives flashing and spells meeting their targets.

There was a horrid howl from somewhere on the battlefield. You whirled toward the sound and found an irate human hurrying down the rocky hill. You guessed the howl had been the wolf's name, then, and this was its owner.

"Astarion!" you shouted. "Behind you!" You pointed in the direction of the approaching human—a wizard, by the looks of her.

Astarion turned and dropped into a crouch. She began summoning a spell; you recognized it as a memory spell. Temporary, but all-encompassing. Before Astarion could hide, the spell hit him square in the chest.

Dread coiled in your stomach. Astarion stumbled backwards, a hand coming to touch his chest. Then his body went rigid. You weren't close enough to see it, but you knew his eyes had glazed over.

Astarion glanced around, clearly confused as to how he had ended up in a battle.

"Shit," you muttered.

He'd be easy to kill in this state, you thought. All too easy to stab in the brain and watch the blood run into his eyes. Ugly desire curled through your stomach, a desperate need to gut him from the inside out settling in your chest.

You blinked and the urge was gone. You glanced around you, expecting your butler, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Gods, why can't the urges be something simple, like wanting him whimpering beneath me again?

You started toward Astarion. Goblins swarmed you. You cast a poison spray across them and cut them down as quickly as you could. You looked up to find the wizard whispering in Astarion's ear. He turned toward Gale and Shadowheart, expressed pulled into confusion.

A goblin clawed at you, trying to climb your legs. You shook it off and slammed your knee into its face. You looked up again and found Astarion with an arrow pointed at Shadowheart's back. You shouted a warning.

"What the hells is he doing?!" she shouted.

Gale frowned at Astarion. "Amnesia," he said. "She messed with his memory."

All eyes widened in horror as the woman gave Astarion an order: "Kill." He loosed his arrow and Shadowheart just narrowly dodged it. Astarion readied another.

"He's under her command," Gale said.

You jumped to a higher vantage point. "Can we stop the spell?"

"Not the memory spell, that will take time to fade," he reasoned, "but if we kill her, she can't command him to kill us."

"Great," you said. "Now I have a plan."

The wizard shrieked with laughter. She turned around, her hands spread, a sneer on her face. "You'll never kill me," she snarled. "I'm far more powerful than—"

She fell with a thud, your arrow buried in her heart. You jumped to the ground and looked down at her where she lay, gurgling and glaring at you. You cocked your head. "You should know better than to expose yourself to attack, wizard. Now I will make your head a statement piece."

Without thinking, you drew your knife. Yet you froze when you heard Gale give a shout. You looked up and found an arrow—one of Astarion's—in his shoulder. The wizard could make no more orders, but her last command was still standing. He was still attacking the others.

"No time for that now," you said to the corpse. You left it where it lay and ran toward Astarion. As you got closer, you realized he looked incredibly confused about having shot Gale.

Gravel crunched under your feet, sliding out from underneath you. You slipped to a halt in front of him. "Astarion? You okay?"

He flinched as your hand came to rest on his shoulder. He shrugged off your touch. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"I'm..." The words died on your lips. What were the two of you? Gods knew there wasn't really a label for whatever it was the two of you had. Would he even believe it if you tried to explain it, while the memory spell lasted? "I'm your friend. We met on the road. We stuck together with Gale and Shadowheart here and the others back at camp to get rid of the tadpoles."

Astarion looked at you, studying you with a gaze as guarded as it had been when you'd first met him. "I don't..."

"You've been hit by a memory spell, a very powerful one," you told him, resisting the urge to grab his hand. "It's given you temporary amnesia."

"Why are we fighting?" he rasped. "I... I don't know who to... She told me to fight you." He glanced back at the body. He seemed to be panicking a little now. "But then you killed her and now I... I don't want to kill you anymore."

"You don't have to," you promised. "You don't have kill us, Astarion, we're your friends."

"No, not them," he said. "Just you."

He raised his bow, an arrow already prepared and aimed for Gale's heart. You grabbed the bow, wrenching it from his hands and throwing it to the ground. He growled, deep and animalistic. His eyes flashed a brighter red and his lip pulled back from his fangs. They dripped with saliva.

Such a pretty monster, you thought. It will be a shame to rip out his heart.

But you didn't follow your urge. Instead, you slammed the pommel of your dagger into the side of his head. His eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground.

Gale shouted at you, utterly horrified. "What was that for?"

"He was going to kill you," you said. "I don't think there's anything we could have said that would stop him." You glared across the battlefield. "Let's deal with the rest of this and get him back to camp."

Shadowheart yanked the arrow out of Gale's shoulder and healed him quickly. You watched his skin knit back together with a strange fascination that tingled beneath your own skin, like you'd felt it before...

The rest of the goblins and wolves felt like they took no time at all. You were aware, of course, that your sense of time was disrupted by your worry; every so often, you cast a look toward Astarion's crumpled body, passed out but corpse-like for his lack of breathing. A discomforting desire shuddered through you at the sight.

He is my friend, you told the need in your gut that told you to kill him twice over. He trusts me. I will not hurt him.

Yet you weren't so sure you could trust yourself to keep that promise.

When enemies finally stopped swarming, you went back to the wizard's corpse. You dug through her pockets for anything useful. You found several amulets imbued with powerful magic and plenty of scrolls. You took her weapons without much thought; you could inspect them later, but you had more important matters to begin with.

"Is he alright?" Gale asked as you knelt beside Astarion.

"He should be," you said. "I didn't hit him that hard."

"Something tells me he won't be too pleased about that when he wakes up," Shadowheart said.

"If he remembers it, that is," Gale said. The wizard sounded the most worried you'd ever heard him. "That was a powerful memory adjustment spell."

You frowned. "It is temporary, isn't it?"

"I certainly hope so. For his sake and for ours," Gale replied. "Here. Let's get him back to camp. It's too dangerous to continue on with him like this."

Gale cast a levitation spell and Astarion's body rose. His face was obscenely peaceful and it dawned on you just how tortured he usually looked when he tranced. You cocked your head, wondering just how deep that memory spell was going.

A hand fell on your arm. "Is everything alright?" Shadowheart asked.

"I'm fine," you said. "Just thinking." You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from Astarion's slack face. "Come on. We've got a lot of ground to cover, and not a lot of daylight left."

~❊~

Astarion felt like he was...swimming? Maybe. Everything was fuzzy. His mind felt bizarrely empty and way too full at the same time. He saw nothing through his heavy, closed eyelids. Try as he might, he couldn't get them to open.

A sense of urgency was sitting in his chest. He had something to do, didn't he? He'd been...

The feeling of whatever it was, of holding something light and curved, of pulling his arm back and letting go, disappeared back into the murk.

Frustration bloomed in Astarion's mind. What was going on? Was this a trick of Cazador's?

Oh, there! That was...something. A person? Yes, an unpleasant person. Someone he was rather upset to have remembered, even if it meant at least there was something in this useless head of his.

A vile taste filled Astarion's mouth, like rat's blood and salty bodily fluids. Somehow, Astarion knew it was because of the person he despised so completely. Yet how?

Sudden hunger curled through Astarion's stomach. He groaned, clutching at his stomach. I have to hunt, he thought, but he still couldn't get his eyes open. Trying only pushed him further into the thick, liquid blackness that surrounded him.

Help, Astarion tried to say. His mouth remained closed. Someone help, someone get me out of here. Gods, please, get me out!

The silence of his mind answered him.

Astarion whimpered, curling into a ball. I'm so hungry, Master, he whined, but only one rough word came out, nearly lost in his throat. Once again, he was dragged back into darkness.

~❊~

"Astarion's not doing so hot."

Karlach's voice roused you from the thoughts swimming in your head. You sat back on your haunches, somewhat surprised to see the weapons you'd been sorting through from today's battles still in front of you in a heap. Had you gotten so lost in your thoughts you'd stopped working?

Never mind that, tend to the pretty corpse, you told yourself. You stood up, ignoring the saliva gathering on your tongue. "How so?"

"He's tossing and turning, groaning in his sleep," she said, chewing on her nails, glancing in the direction of the trancing elf.

"I'll check on him," you said.

You walked across camp toward Astarion's tent. When you'd gotten back to camp, Shadowheart had thought it wisest to keep him in view of everyone, just in case something went wrong, so Astarion currently lay on your own bedroll in front of his tent.

You could see Astarion's sleep had become fitful. He had tossed and turned so much that he'd thrown off the blanket he took everywhere that you'd put over him. His hair was beyond messy. His eyebrows were pinched together and he was panting unnecessarily.

A soft groan slipped past his lips as he rolled to one side, desperately hugging his arms to his stomach. You cocked your head. Was his hunger causing him to stir?

"At least we know I didn't kill him knocking him out," you said.

Karlach opened her mouth but was interrupted by Astarion's whimper. The two of you both looked at him again, concerned. "Master," he rasped.

Your body stiffened. You had a sudden need to keep Karlach away, sure these babblings were not something Astarion would want anyone to hear.

Why are you not also leaving him be? you asked yourself. You decided against answering that question.

"I'll keep an eye on him," you promised her.

Karlach gave you a curious look, then nodded. She turned away and headed back across camp.

You sat down beside Astarion. You peered down at him, his face fixed into an expression of pain.

Poor creature, you thought.

Astarion gave another whine of hunger, curling into the fetal position. Your own face pinched into an expression of sympathy. You took your dagger from its sheath and pricked your finger on it. With your free hand, you held open Astarion's mouth, then hovered your bleeding finger over it.

Achingly slowly, the blood dripped into Astarion's mouth.

~❊~

Food.

A sharp, iron tang filled his senses. He could smell it, so close he was sure if he could just convince his body to move through the sluggish black around him that he would be able to taste it—

Blood hit his tongue, the taste of a single droplet bringing saliva that coated his jaws. Another drop followed. One after the other, droplets of blood collected on his tongue. Somehow, he found it within himself to swallow.

Astarion knew this blood. The taste was oddly familiar, though it wasn't part of his regular diet. No, this was not the blood of bugs and rats—this was the blood of a thinking creature. One he'd feasted from before.

Master will torture me for this, he thought. Master will write more poetry on my skin.

But Astarion no longer found it in him to care. As more blood dripped into his mouth, he swallowed it down with enthusiasm.

Strength returned to his limbs. The hunger that plagued him constantly began to subside, easing into something bearable. Old aches and pains disappeared.

There you go, Astarion, a female voice said. She sounded close—and worried. Just drink. It will help.

Astarion obeyed on instinct. He knew this voice. It was uncannily familiar, the kind of voice he'd listen to for hours just to keep hearing it. Yet...where had he heard it? Was this a victim, coming back to haunt his memories? It certainly wasn't one of his sisters...

With a full belly, restlessness took over. Astarion quickly grew bored of the dark surrounding him. He shifted, the movement slowly bringing him back into his body. He huffed impatiently.

Are you coming back to me? the voice asked, accompanied by a soft touch on his cheek. A brief moment of silence followed, then— You're scaring the others, Little Star.

Astarion tensed. That name. No one called him that. His siblings knew better and his victims never got close enough, so...

A hand slipped into his hair. Panic took over. Astarion's scalp tingled. He anticipated pain to follow.

Something within him snapped—

~❊~

Astarion's eyes opened the same time the thread within him grew too taut. He lurched upward, a snarl on his lips. He bared his teeth, prepared to rip out the throat of whomever had touched him—

"Easy!" It was the same voice. The hand left his hair and pushed him back to the ground. A figure appeared over him. "It's just me!"

The voice stopped him. Astarion let himself be pushed back down—surprisingly gently, with only one hand on his shoulder. He focused on the figure above him and slowly your features come into focus.

You're...beautiful. Your hair has been pulled out of the way, leaving the concern and worry on your face clear to his eyes. Your eyes were wide, but you didn't seem to be afraid of him. In fact, the look on your face suggested you know his dangers all too well.

You were the answer to every prayer he'd always been too scared to voice.

Slowly, Astarion relaxed. You looked instantly relieved.

"It's me," you said again, calmer now. "Do you remember me yet?"

You lifted your hand to his cheek. Astarion could smell the blood on it—the same blood he'd just tasted. He turned toward it and saw the small slice in your finger.

"You fed me?" he asked.

You nodded. "Of course I did, Astarion."

Astarion flinched. "How do you know my name?"

Disappointment flickered in your eyes. "I'll take that as a no," you sighed. Only then did Astarion realize you'd asked him a question. "We travel together, Star. With our friends. So that we can get the tadpoles out of our heads?" You spoke slowly, trying to give him time to catch up.

But Astarion didn't recognize anything—except for the smell of your blood, which seemed so innate to him, beyond the taste of it on his tongue.

"I— I'm sorry, I don't know," he whispered.

"Nothing sounds familiar?" you asked. When he shook his head again, your disappointment showed on your face for a moment. You hid it quickly with your next breath, but Astarion saw it. "That's alright. It'll come back to you."

Fear suddenly wrapped its claws around his heart. "Will it?"

"Yes," you said firmly. "It will. I promise, Star." You took his hand in yours and squeezed gently. "And I'll be with you until you do remember."

A thousand questions swirled in his mind. Who were you? What had he done to deserve your kindness? How could you be so certain that he would recover?

Deep in his heart, he wondered if he even wanted to recover. The bits and pieces floating around inside his head... They were not pleasant. And yet, all he could think to ask was, "Why?"

You smiled softly at him, almost regretfully. You were silent for a long time, avoiding his gaze. Your hair just barely covered your eyes; Astarion could not make out your expression. At last, you raised your head toward him. "If you were in your right mind, you'd know." The muscle in your jaw feathered. In a hushed voice, you added, "Honestly, that scares me more than this."

Astarion's eyes narrowed. He felt like he was missing something, something obvious. You were hiding something, but he couldn't fathom what or why...

You turned away from his intense, questioning gaze. "Rest. I'll be here when you wake up." You pulled a knife from its sheath on your boot and a rag from your pocket. You began polishing it.

Astarion watched you for some time, entranced by the methodic way you cleaned your weapons, pausing to inspect the shine of the blade. It did not take long for the drowsy blackness to seep into the edges of his consciousness, taking over with every blink. Soon, there was nothing left but...

~❊~

You weren't entirely certain when Astarion had dozed off, just that you had suddenly felt the loss of his gaze. You glanced at him, his body still on your bedroll.

A few moments passed while you watched him. Once you were certain he was deep in his trance, you left his side to collect a handful of herbs and a water flask.

You measured out the herbs and tied them off in a mesh pouch. You steeped them in the cold water and watched the color change achingly slowly. Only when it had reached a greenish-yellow color did you gently reopen the bloody spot on your finger, hissing as the skin split again, and let your blood drip into the mixture.

You stared down at it, watching the blood sink to the bottom of the bowl. The herbs, meant to help improve memory, ought to do something for his memory loss... Or so you hoped.

With Astarion still trancing, you left the herbs to steep. You returned to your own tent briefly to retrieve a book to read while you waited for him to wake.

The evening passed surprisingly slowly. You got through several chapters before you were interrupted by a gentle tap on your shoulder. You looked up to find Gale offering you a plate of food.

"Thank you, Gale," you said, accepting it after you'd put your book down. "How's the arm?"

"You're welcome. All healed up, thanks to Shadowheart," he said. He glanced at your mixture. "Is that for Astarion?"

You nodded. "It's a bunch of herbs to help improve memory. I was thinking it might speed up the 'temporary' part of the wizard's spell."

He thought for a moment. "I have a few spells that might help," he said. "Pass me the bowl."

You did so and watched curiously as Gale muttered a few quiet incantations over the mixture. When he passed the bowl back to you, the water faintly glowed lavender.

"That should help," he said.

"What did you do?" you asked, frowning. You hadn't recognized any of his mutterings.

Gale bit back a smile. "Those spells should increase the herbs' potency. It will strengthen the potion, and our elf's ability to retain his memory."

For a moment, you just stared at him. Then you said, "You have to teach me those spells."

Gale smiled. "Anytime," he promised. He nodded to the plate he'd given you. "Eat. You need your strength, too."

You nodded and ate quickly. Astarion shifted in his trance, mumbling quietly. You glanced at him and heaved a sigh when you realized he was, once again, clutching his stomach.

"You are a pain to feed when you can't bite me," you said to him before once again opening your finger and letting your blood drip into his mouth. Yet you weren't nearly as annoyed as you sounded; you honestly didn't mind caring for the elf. Gods knew he deserved it.

You returned to your book until night fell. The others came to check on you and Astarion before they retired. Wyll put out the campfire and you looked at the vampire still knocked out on your bedroll.

"Guess we're sharing again," you murmured to him and wriggled into your bedroll. You got cozy, comforted by his presence, despite everything. You rolled to put your back to him, but whispered over your shoulder, "Good night, Astarion."

~❊~

Astarion woke up very suddenly, a scream in his throat. He covered his mouth with a hand before it could come out. He lay that way for several moments, trying to calm the sense of panic in him from yet another nightmare of his master, before he realized he was not in his tent. Or any tent.

His head rolled to the right, toward the heat next to him and the scent of you. You had curled up beside him, your back to him, some distance between the two of you. For some reason, his heart sank. Why hadn't you cuddled up close to him?

Bits and pieces of memory hit him with a pounding headache: something slamming into his chest, loosing an arrow from his bow into Gale's shoulder, waking up and lunging for you, watching you sharpen your knives...

Gods, what had happened over the past few days. When had they left that battlefield?

Astarion glanced at your sleeping form again. A deep ache sat in his chest; he wanted... Gods, did he really? He wanted to hold you. He wanted you in his arms.

For her heat, he told himself as he rolled onto his side and closer to you, draping his arm over your middle. He ignored the fact that his explanation did not cover the little kiss he pressed to the nape of your neck.

You stirred in your sleep. "Little Star?" you murmured, pushing back against his chest.

"Don't wake up," he murmured. "I'm here."

He watched a sweet, sleepy smile cross your face. "It worked," you mumbled. You hand came up to slide into his and squeeze gently.

Astarion frowned. "What worked?"

You rolled to face him, even though your eyes remained closed. "I'll tell you in the morning," you said. You yawned and nuzzled your face in his chest, apparently happy to hide in the fabric of his shirt and his scent. You hummed. "My pretty little death."

There you were with your strange little sayings. Astarion raised his eyebrow, assuming you'd caught a whiff of his (albeit faint) odor of death. "Do I need more perfume?"

"No," you said, quite adamantly. "Smells good."

Astarion bit back a giddy, boyish smile. "If you say so." He put his hand into your hair, fingers scratching your scalp gently. You hummed contentedly and, within seconds, fell back asleep against him.

He wrapped his other arm around you as well, pressing you close to him. A twinge of hunger passed through him, but he ignored it; while you had told him plenty of times he could feed while you slept, he'd rather wait until the morning than risk waking you again.

Too alert to fall back to sleep, Astarion looked down at you. He brushed a few strands of your hair from your face, reveling in the softness of your hair and skin. He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone, content to admire you until his eyes got tired of you. Truthfully, he wasn't sure that day would ever come.

"Oh, you," he murmured. He kissed the top of your head and you lifted your head toward him while you slept, turning your face toward him. Like a sunflower seeking the sun, he thought, a very old distant memory surfacing—his tiny hand in a bigger one, belonging to someone telling him to look at the big yellow flowers in front of him...

He was your sun. And you were...his.

Something in his chest stirred. It wasn't quite a heartbeat, but it was very close: a fluttering in his heart, truly awakening for the first time. A shuddering breath escaped Astarion's lips.

Oh.

Through the fuzz of the past few hours, Astarion dimly remembered you smiling at him, soft and sad and unsure, sorrow in your voice as you said, If you were in your right mind, you'd know. Honestly, that scares me more than this.

And Astarion did know. He did.

Oh.

"My darling," Astarion murmured, shifting to curl his body around yours. You responded in your sleep, clinging tightly to him. He kissed your cheek and then rested his head against yours, watching the sky and patiently waiting for the sun to rise.

For the first time in two hundred years, the gods had finally listened.

~❊~

Your body registered the warmth of the sun before you fully woke. It spread through you, spreading a lazy comfort through you. You slipped between peaceful sleep and fuzzy wakefulness for some time before lips roused you completely.

Tiny kisses covered your cheeks and nose. A hand cupped your cheek. "Wake up, my love," a soft voice said. Your heart warmed and your eyes flickered open. Astarion!

His crimson eyes crinkled with a smile when you looked at him. "There she is," he whispered, fonder than you had ever heard him.

"You're back," you murmured, overjoyed to be his love again but desperately tamping the feeling down. He would certainly see it now if you were not careful to hide your heart.

"What happened?" he asked. "I remember fighting goblins, but nothing else until I woke up to you avoiding me in your sleep." His tone was teasing, but there was something else there—some little bit of vulnerability. Your heart began to beat faster in your chest.

You propped your head up on your hand. "It's a long story, Star."

"Tell it to me while I feed," he suggested, already shifting to perform your morning ritual.

You rolled onto your opposite side and exposed your neck to him, sweeping your hair out of the way. "Alright," you said, barely suppressing a shudder as his lips brushed your skin, leaving a soft, yearning kiss.

What has gotten into him today? you wondered.

Astarion finally sunk his teeth into your neck. You let him take one, two, three swallows of your blood before you began talking. You spared no details, telling him what had happened since he'd been hit with a memory spell as steadily as you could with him sucking at your neck.

When he was finished, Astarion licked over the holes in your neck until they stopped bleeding.

"Thank you," he said, uncharacteristically quiet. "For the meal and for staying with me. I can't imagine it was easy work."

You looked up at him, entranced by the flush on his cheeks. You reached up to cup his face, admiring him for a moment before snapping out of your daze. "No, it...it was fine. It was..." You.

A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. Your heart sank into your stomach. He knows. Gods, he knows how I feel.

Astarion took your chin in his hand and lifted your head. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. He looked at you with that sweet, fond look in his eyes for a moment. Then they fluttered shut as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.

Your surprise melted quickly into content as his thumb stroked your jaw instead. He tasted vaguely of iron; arousal fluttered through you, your urge only growing more powerful at the taste of your lifeblood on his tongue. Yet it slipped away as Astarion cuddled closer to you, sheltering within your arms, his lips never leaving yours. His soft, barely audible moans, were like an epic poem, his kiss a balm to the worry that had been building in your chest.

He feels it, too.

You broke away for a moment of air. "Astarion," you whispered and he let out a feral growl, chasing your lips eagerly. But for all his eagerness, it was not the kisses he gave you before he ravaged you. He was softer, slower. You felt the promise he was making you in that moment.

The kiss went on. The dynamic changed slowly; his fangs scraped across your lips—his tongue slipped into your mouth—your tongue into his—he suckled on your lower lip—you gently held his lip between your teeth—your fingers curled in his hair—his hand on your neck.

You let Astarion decide when he was done, happy to kiss him slowly. Your hand fell to his chest and rested above his unbeating heart. He hummed into your mouth.

When he did finally pull away, his cheeks were delightfully red, the tips of his ears pink. His eyes fluttered. A slow, content smile formed on his lips.

You kissed his forehead. He turned a deeper shade of red. "Thank you, my Star."

Astarion nuzzled into you. "Darling..." He dropped his mouth to your neck, once again kissing his feeding place. "I don't want to stop."

You smiled. "So don't."

Astarion was kissing you again in an instant, his hands cupping your face, cradling you close. You melted into him, giving control over to your pretty corpse.

You were interrupted by a throat clearing above you just as a shadow fell over the two you. Your lips parted from Astarion's as you both looked up, somewhat guiltily.

Lae'zel stood above you, already ready to move on. "Unstick your maws," she ordered with a snort. "We must go." She left as quickly as she had arrived, but watching after her made it clear the rest of camp had also been watching the two of you.

"Maws," Astarion mused.

"She's right," you said, sitting up. "We should get ready."

Astarion caught your hand and pressed a tender kiss to your fingers. "Alright, my love."

The two of you slipped out of the bedroll. You helped Astarion fix his hair, mussed by sleep and your hands, and then the two of you packed up your belongings quickly to catch up with the others. You hadn't realized just how much time had passed while you got lost with him.

"Good morning!" Gale said cheerily, striding over, a twinkle in his eye. "I see Astarion's regained his memory!"

You glanced up in time to see Astarion blush and give Gale the universal look that meant 'shut up' and realized Gale had known all along. When had the two of them gotten close enough for that? Or was Gale just very good at reading people?

"I have," Astarion said coolly, recovering. "Our lovely leader here has filled me in on what happened while I was...indisposed." He looked awkward for a moment, then continued, "I apologize for shooting you, wizard."

"Apology accepted," Gale said matter-of-factly. He lifted his arm to prove it had healed. "No harm done!"

You finished up with your packing. "Where are we off to today?" you asked Gale. "Have the others decided?"

He pulled a face. "Everyone's got their own ideas," he said tactfully. "I think it'd be best if you decided what we handled first."

You sighed. "You mean that Shadowheart and Lae'zel are trying to kill each other, and I have to stop them and take the heat from whoever I piss off more."

Gale winced. "Yes, something like that."

"Alright. I'll be right there."

Gale nodded and started back toward where the others were gathered. You watched him go with a sigh.

"Is that why Lae'zel interrupted us?" Astarion asked. "Because if she thinks that's a way to gain favor, she's most certainly wrong."

You giggled at him. "Did someone want to keep kissing?"

He tried to hold your gaze, but looked away as his ears turned pink again. "Maybe," he muttered.

You kissed his cheek. "Later," you promised. You offered him your hand. "Come on. Let's get this sorted."

"Alright, my love," he said—a new phrase of his, it seemed—and took your hand. For a moment, he just looked at you, like there was something he wanted to say. You paused.

"What is it?" you asked.

He shook his head, a tiny smile on his lips now. "Nothing." You raised your eyebrow. "We'll talk about it later."

You nodded. "Alright."

You walked toward your bickering companions. Lae'zel was muttering about the creche, Shadowheart adamantly refusing not to go, with Wyll and Karlach trying to placate them both. At least those two weren't still at each other's throats.

The minute Shadowheart saw you, she darted over. "We have to get to the Temple of Shar," she started. "We made so much progress before we reached the goblins—"

"Chk! Our top priority should be the creche—"

Shadowheart glared at the githyanki. "We are not going to the creche!"

"We are going to neither place just yet, and you are both staying here in camp until you learn to get along," you said sharply. You saw Astarion smirk out of the corner of your eye. "Gale, Karlach, you'll come with me and Astarion. We'll see how far we can get and make a decision from there."

Karlach pulled a face. "Are you two going to kiss all day?" she complained.

You rolled your eyes. "That depends on how much you annoy me. Now, come on. I'd like to get going. And for the love of all, can we please avoid memory spells?"

Gale bit back a smile. "Are you certain? It seems to me you've gotten something rather good out of it." He glanced down at your fingers, still twined with Astarion's.

You glanced at Astarion. "Yes," you agreed. "And he is enough for me." You kissed his cheek again. For only his ears, you whispered, "I mean that, you know."

He smiled at you. "I know."

"Good," you said. You kissed him quickly.

You waited for Gale and Karlach to get what they needed with your head resting on Astarion's shoulder. You knew as well as any that you were far from steady; you still had much to talk about. You looked up at Astarion and found a far-off look in his eyes, one that looked a little too much like sorrow for your liking.

Astarion's "nothing" was looking an awful lot like "something."

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel@cheeslyy@ofmyth-andmagicart@neetheslayer@whispering-depths@freesidexjunkie@lightsinmycity@the0ldmann@gobbodoggo@oooof-ifellforyou@beeblisss@fangboner@aquaarietes@fiercest-eigengrau-skies@niqhtfell@call-me-nyxx@lueji-m@ceres-xiv@tricksy-trinity@graynstairs@rosa-rubus@ynisthatyou@thegoodwitchs-blog@catching-fire-in-the-wind @kiyastrf94 @vincemachina @silverfangmarks @ravenswritingroom @hinata7346 @hellethil @makepastanotwar13 @caramel-hufflepuff @beemiilk @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @starwatch77 @julianmarie @sadexistentialism @supernaturallover15 @writinghound @frankie-mercury @kindadolly @infernalrusalka

[thatfreshi]

Hi! Can I request a story about Tav having trouble fighting cause Astarion just fed on her and so he gets worried and protective ofc. Maybe they were ambushed at camp or something? Thank you so much for your work! I really like how you write Astarion

Tw - animal attack, lots of gore, themes of death

Recommended Song: Seek and Destroy - SZA

Against better judgment, you let Astarion feed on you almost every night. It's just one of those things, a sacrifice you make, an act of love. After decades of disrespect, scavenging for next to nothing, you thought it'd be nice for him to have something better than animals. While he always insists it isn't necessary, he never passes you up on the offer. A ritual before bed every night, like a lover's embrace, you've come to adore the feeling of his teeth.

This evening in particular, he took quite a bit. You don't mind, considering you go to bed almost right after. Light-headed, woozy, you're wrapped up in his arms.

"Thank you darling."

His embrace almost feels warm when you're this drained. You almost drift off, but he keeps you awake.

"Tav, you need to eat something first."

You groan, absolutely exhausted, trying to keep him in the bedroll.

"Nooo, I'll just do it tomorrow."

He smiles, moving your hair out of your eyes.

"That's not how it works my sweet. Now, let me get up so I can-"

Goblin war drums. The sound of the percussive rhythms bouncing off all the trees, they're not far off, and Astarion knows they're on the way. Karlach starts making her way to every tent, telling your companions to get their asses in gear.

"Tav, Astarion, let's go!"

"Shit."

Astarion whispers to himself. You're still not fully there, in and out of sleep.

"What's going on?"

Double vision, you see two of your vampire lover get up and start rummaging around for his daggers.

"Just- just stay here Tav. It's alright."

You try to rub at your eyes, desperately wanting to figure out what's going on. Before you can ask again, he's gone, and you hear more war drums outside. You quickly realize it's goblins. They must've found where you've been hiding, but your head is still spinning. Trying to get up and grab your blade, you almost fall back to the ground. Steadying yourself for a moment, you try your best to listen to what's going on outside. It sounds deadly, metal, screams. You hear Shadowheart casting left and right.

When you manage to stumble out of the tent, you're tackled by one of their dogs, or whatever wretched things they are. A scream rips out of your throat, trying to hold the thing off. It bites rabidly at your arm, leaving numerous gashes, until it's thrown off of you and stabbed to death, relentlessly.

"Gods damnit, I told you to stay in the tent Tav!"

You're too worried about your arm throbbing in pain to care about the validity of his argument. He's angry, and perhaps both of you aren't entirely certain why. It's your dominant arm, you can barely move it. Astarion goes to wrap your arm, but is quickly overpowered by the numbers again. They must've sent a large party after the lot of you. Halsin and Shadowheart are running out of magic, already drained. It's bad, but it'll end soon. With a couple more fights and a thunderwave from Gale, the rest of the goblins scurry off, knowing they're fighting a losing battle. Astarion doesn't even stop to loot their corpses, running to your side.

"You're a fucking idiot Tav, you know that?"

Gods, he could sound so mean when he wanted to. You know he says those things out of fear, but they still hurt. Despite how angry he is, he starts ripping pieces of cloth from his shirt, wrapping your arm, which is bleeding far too fast. Shadowheart and Halsin come over to supervise, both out of arcana until they get some rest.

"Yes, the two of you standing over my shoulder is quite helpful. Might as well cheer me on while you're at it!"

His movements are ragged, furious, only making your arm hurt more than it does. He's lost though, somewhere in his head, unable to hear the cries of pain as he's wrapping your arm. You're even more lost than before, your blood leaving rapidly.

"Aster, I-"

"Hush."

He then realizes you were going to tell him you were about to pass out, because you almost immediately fall over.

"Damnit!"

He holds you in his arms, your limb still not fully wrapped.

"If the two of you want to be helpful, get me some actual bandages instead of gawking at me!"

Sure, Astarion hates doing things that require hard work, but he knows how. How many times did he have to do something like this to himself, when no one was there to help wrap his wounds? Shadowheart quickly returns with all of the bandage wraps she has.

"We have to clean it or it'll get infected."

"Well, Shadowheart, I don't know how you think you're going to clean it if Tav bleeds to death."

The two healers decide it's best if he handles this himself. While he obsessively wraps your arm, the rest of the camp watches on, knowing he's too possessive to let them help. He doesn't trust them like he trusts you.

And I trusted you to stay put.

There's no way to give you more blood, not in a way that would work for you. For a moment, he simply thinks that he'll feed you some of his blood, and then he remembers. All he can do is hope you retained enough, that he didn't preemptively kill you by feeding on you tonight. Your pulse is still going, but it's slow, and you're paler than usual.

Astarion begins to think to himself, asking why he ever fell in love, why he ever let himself think twice about you. It's easy to play the game when you have nothing to lose. Second thoughts, always, he's always thinking for two people now. It's been his survival, for as long as he can remember, and now you're lodged in his brain.

"Damn you Tav, I can't do this. I can't lose you like this."

He begins to sob as he holds you, still unconscious. This beckons Gale to come over, often a voice of reason for the vampire.

"You've done all you can. Perhaps we should get Tav back inside? Away from the elements?"

Astarion is too distraught to argue, helping Gale carry you back into the tent.

"The second Shadowheart is awake, she'll be back to check on Tav."

"Yeah, if they don't die from blood loss in the middle of the night."

Gale simply sighs, knowing there's no point in fighting with him. He leaves your pale lover to wallow in his misery. Hours pass, you're still clinging on, and Astarion watches over you, panicking every time he can't see your chest rise and fall, constantly checking your pulse. You're cold, your heartbeat dangerously slow, and he keeps wracking his brain about what else he could possibly do. But there's nothing, only fate, only the gods. He sadly chuckles to himself at the thought of even trying to pray, knowing there's no higher power out there, at least one that cares about him.

"W... what are you... laughing at?"

You ask weakly, oblivious to the horrific stress he's been through. Astarion whips around quickly, wondering if perhaps he's imagining your voice. When he sees your eyes fluttering, lost somewhere between dreams and reality, he rushes to your side.

"Oh gods Tav... you- you really scared me there."

He tries to hold back tears, failing miserably. You try to speak again, but groan in pain as the feeling in your arm starts to come back.

"I know, I know it hurts. It's okay my darling, you'll be alright."

He begins fully sobbing, and you have no idea why, without being awake enough to comprehend the situation. Astarion always tries to be strong when you're weak, but watching you teeter on the line between life and death, it was simply too much to bear.

"You can't pull that shit, ever again my love, I'm so serious. I know I'm normally quite serious, but ever more so right now."

Then, a joyful, tiny laugh. Happiness. Happy that you're alive. The memories of the fight slowly start coming back, the beast that ripped up your arm, Astarion yelling.

"Aster...?"

"Yes my dear?"

You start to tear up a little, still a tad delirious.

"I'm sorry."

And then remembers as well, the things he said, the tone he spoke to you in.

"No, no my love I'm sorry. You weren't yourself, I was being entirely unreasonable. I just..."

He almost can't finish his sentence.

"I'm just happy you're okay. That's enough for me."

Your lover slowly and carefully lays down beside you, pulling you into him, being sure not to let your wounded arm drag on the ground. He holds you for a long time, until Shadowheart wakes at dawn, fully rested and ready to fix your wounds. Astarion vows silently that he'll never let it come that close, ever again.

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Girl dad Astarion who is mourning the times when his biggest problem was coming up with more or less child-friendly excuses to not read yet another bedtime story. Or to fix the dress of a shabby old doll that gave him the creeps. Or to kiss some scratches better, even though the minuscule wounds usually troubled him more than they did the damn child. 

Nobody ever told him that children grow up this fucking fast, okay?

But now he has to watch his darling little girl grow into a beautiful young woman, and he is—quite frankly—terrified for her. 

Because wherever he looks, he can see that strangers are watching her, too. 

It doesn’t even bother him that they notice his daughter’s beauty, no, you would have to be blind not to see it. She’s stunning—obviously. She's his child after all…and Tav’s, of course, but that’s not the point. 

It’s the way they're looking at the girl that disgusts Astarion to his very core. Leering eyes following her every move. Ulterior motives buried under layers of false niceties. Seemingly innocent little touches stolen as if those filthy hands were entitled to her body in any way. 

And for all their obnoxious gawking, they don’t even see her. They seldom care for his daughter’s talents, her sense of humour, or her intelligence. Her heart.

Those heads are only turning for a pretty face, and for all the small privileges that might afford her, they always come with a price—a price Astarion has paid once upon a time; a price he doesn’t ever want his daughter to even consider accepting.

But the world is not kind. It’s already leaving scratches on his child that neither he nor Tav can kiss better any longer. 

And Astarion hates it because the last time he felt this helpless was when his own pretty face was all that kept him, well, as alive as he could be. A thing to be used for other people's gain. Selling himself out for crumbs.

And then, one day, he notices a new bracelet on his daughter’s wrist. 

She happily hands it over to him so he can take a look. Then she tells him some stranger gifted it to her. Just like that! 

All they wanted for it was a little smile—isn’t that so great, father? 

It’s not. Far from it. Astarion is fuming inside. 

How dare some random nitwit think that ugly trinket worthy of his daughter’s wonderful smile? The audacity. The nerve. Unbelievable! 

“Darling, it’s not a gift if they’re expecting something in return,” a forced smile tugs at his lips, trying to soften his scolding tone.

It doesn’t work.

“But it’s so pretty, I had to have it!” 

The girl sulks, her little nose scrunched up as if he just sent her to bed without her fairy tales. Astarion supposes, in a way, he has.

“And what do we do when we see something we want, dear?” 

She rolls her eyes at him in a way that always has Tav cackling up. Maybe it's because, in moments like this, she looks a little too much like her father. 

“We just pocket it.”

“Exactly, my darling child, we just pocket it,” Astarion nods approvingly. “And if they ask for a smile next time?”

“We stab them,” she sighs.

“Absolutely, we do. Now, off with you, lest your daggers get all rusty, you lazy duck.” 

Ending the discussion with a gentle smile, Astarion watches the girl go before he produces the offending bracelet from his sleeve. 

It’s always out of sight, out of mind with pretty things, isn't it?

He takes another look at the bracelet, scrunching up his nose as if it gave off a particularly vile smell. In a way, it does.

In fact, it’s giving Astarion the creeps. And it's not even made from real gold, by the way.

Astarion scoffs at the cheap trinket. This child still has so much to learn.  

[delaber]

Firestarter (Loki x Reader)

Summary: After having been granted safe passage to the Avengers’ head quarters, Loki’s delighted to learn that he can pass the time by toying with the hate of the newest recruit.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers.

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: smut, mentions of battle injuries

Find part 2 here

They would all be fools to trust him. They know it. Loki knows it. Hell, even the specs of dust floating around know it!

The only one that seems eager to patch up the growing rift between the opposite sides of the room is the meathead of his brother who is blabbering away, trying hard to ignore the cold air coming from the other Avengers.

He's persistent, you'd have to give him that. They must really love Thor to grant Loki safe passage in their home like this.

- The stab of a thought hits Loki straight in the chest. Sticks to his ribs as he contemplates the sharp hate radiating off of the cotton-clad team opposite him. They don't look the least bit threatening in their oversized casual wear, but they've still granted his brother the upper hand so graciously, and for the first time in a while, he feels the balancing scales tip. It was easier when it was just the three idiots Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg who were fawning over his brother - Sif on occasion too, though Loki had had her in multiple ways Thor could never even wrap his pea-sized brain around.

The thought alone makes the tar on his ribs slowly drip away.

He must've drifted off, lost in thought of Sif with her bare ass in the air because the next thing he registers is Thor's meaty hand between his shoulder blades. "You all know my brother..." he chuckles awkwardly and pushes Loki forwards. Adds his name for clarification when nobody answers. Idiot.

The room's almost dead-silent. Stark scoffs theatrically loud and that Barton fellow turns a lovely shade of plum as he immediately races out of the room without uttering a single word - not that Loki can really blame him; he's killed for less.

Even the newbies on the team are staring daggers at him, though Loki doubts he's ever met any of them before; Captain Rogers' brooding siamese twin, the beefed up action figure beside him and that... woman - the pretty one - her eyes ablaze with a certain kind of hatred that he can physically feel down his spine as she scowls in his direction.

Loki cocks an eyebrow, amused that his reputation precedes him so much that her hate is tangible, and she huffs and pushes through the crowd while the one with the metal arm - the siamese twin - grabs her shoulder to prevent her from stepping too close. It only angers her even more and she shakes off the vibranium hand but stands her ground with her head lifted in cool arrogance, her eyes never wavering from Loki's.

Oh, she really hates him!

The look on her face reminds him of the tales he's heard of Muspelheim. Of Surtur and flames shining brighter than the sun; all of Asgard burning while the glass of the shattered rainbow bridge glistens in the flames and sticks to his skin, covers his hair. With her, there's fire in the air. He feels it immediately and it draws him in.

***

He spends his days in the shadows, observes the dynamics of the Avengers, gathers information in case he has to do something... drastic. He's not exactly planning on betraying the trust his brother's placed in him, but it's never unwise to have a plan to overthrow the Avengers - just in case. So he learns what he can from afar; their likes, their dislikes, their routines. But mostly, Loki just observes her.

She really loathes him which only makes it all the more fun. She storms off whenever he comes close. Flares her nostrils, squares her jaw, stamps away like a petulant child - and he must admit that he does love it! He enjoys having her wrapped around his little finger, that his mere presence can pull such a sincere reaction out of her. It makes the seidr in his veins feel electric; like pure voltage in the palm of his hand as it begs him to show off - show her - what he can do with it. He wonders if this is what Thor feels like when his eyes turn bone-white and arctic blue with lightening.

"I wish you would stop with that."

Loki glances towards his brother, tries to look as bored as possible as if he really doesn't know what he's talking about. "Stop with what?"

Thor gives out a long sigh and Loki is reminded of the first time Thor was disappointed with him; even though it's almost a thousand years ago, he can still smell the sweetness of the stolen tarts he'd hidden underneath his pillowcase and the empty hole in his chest where he knew he should be feeling shame but didn't.

"You know what I mean... It's not nice."

"In case you haven't noticed; I don't care about being nice."

"You're taunting her."

"She's an easy target," Loki hums with remnants of a chuckle, places his hands on the back of his head as he looks over at her. Even as she does something as mundane as drinking her morning coffee, she keeps a wary eye on him. It's entertaining. "You really can't blame me."

"It's not as if she's dangling bait, brother. You hurt her."

"I hurt her?!" Loki snaps, offended, "- when?"

"You really haven't realised?"

"Realised what?"

Another sigh. "Can't you tell she's from New York?"

Loki stops replying after that. Settles on picking an imaginary crumb from off his chest; thin crusted and rhubarb filling. He avoids Thor's gaze. He doesn't feel empty now and they both know it.

***

He'd come running through the compound with the rest of them as soon as the strangled war cry had met his ears.

Half-hiding behind one of the huge stone columns, he takes her in; she's covered in blood from head to toe, panting harshly as she stands in the middle of the hall, daggers still clutched tightly in both hands as her friends surround her. She looks fiery, evil, war ready - like the Valkyries from back home with their spears and their feminine hands skilfully wringing death out of anyone who crosses Asgard.

There had been a time where Loki had been afraid of them, and then, as he grew a little older, completely mesmerised by their raw beauty and the smell of battle as they rode towards the Royal Palace to report back to Odin and his ravens. He remembers standing in the hallowed halls of Valaskjalf with Huginn and Muninn circling above him as the Valkyries take off their helmets and look towards his brother. What he wouldn't have given to have one of them stab him, let alone notice him. Five hundred years later and it still hurts...

Steve Rogers is standing right by her side, not covered in as much blood as she is but still looking relieved to be back home. He sends a nod in Stark's direction and throws an electronic device across the room with a defeated sigh. It doesn't take a genius to see that even though the mission went well, they'd been ambushed.

Rogers takes a step closer to her, puts his arm around her shoulders as to hug her, and for the first time since they appeared in the entrance hall, she howls in pain, collapses on the floor and wrings her face in the most horrible way.

Loki notices the hole in her suit first. Sees how the red comes in pulses and flows down over her shoulder and chest. She's been stabbed, and by the looks of the dark red tissue in the gap, it's deep.

Steve Rogers yelps in shock, throws himself down on the ground beside her and instantly starts pressurising the wound with his bruised hands while his two companions are by her side immediately, ready to scoop her up in their arms and carry her to safety.

Loki takes in the scene unfolding before him; the three frantic men, the spurting blood, her panicked face as she cries. Swears he can hear Hel whisper her name.

"Leave her," he suddenly hears his own voice booming through the echoing hall and it drowns out the whisper.

They all stop dead in their tracks. Look around for him.

He's not sure exactly where all of this is coming from; he really couldn't care less if she died, but he finds himself stepping around the column, and he comes out with his arms raised as if surrendering. "She's gonna bleed out before you reach a doctor."

Action figure-man is on his feet almost immediately: "And what do you suggest?," he hisses angrily, "that we leave her be? Let her die here on the floor without even trying?"

Loki raises his arms a little higher and takes another careful step towards them. "I can help."

"You can help? And why should we trust you?"

"First of all, you shouldn't," he states as he simply cannot help himself. "- But it's your only chance of saving your friend."

"You're not serious!" Tin-man hisses and looks towards Loki while helping Steve Rogers putting pressure on the gaping wound, "as if we're supposed to believe you suddenly care."

Loki wants to bite back but a painful sound from her makes him hold his tongue.

"- We're not gambling with her life!"

"Are you sure?" Loki retorts and it finally makes Captain Rogers look up. "- Because it looks to me as if you are."

Loki cannot see Thor who's standing behind him, but he imagines the slow nod of approval he gives the Steve Rogers trio, because suddenly the Captain gives out a heavy sigh, his eyes downcast. "Alright then," he says in defeat and waves Loki closer while clutching her tight.

"Steve!" Tin-man appeals but his best friend has made up his mind.

All eyes turn to Loki.

He's surprised to learn that he doesn't enjoy it as much as he'd imagined he would. He supposes it's because the main difference between him and his brother has once again been underlined so cruelly.

"If you try anything," action figure man warns and Loki bites back: "What? You'll kill me? As if I haven't heard that before. Now get out of my way, mortal."

He steps forwards, squats down beside her and summons the green sparks in the palm of his hand, looks her in the eye for the first time since the day they'd been introduced. There's fire behind her colourful irises; mistrust, chaos and fear. She leans towards him and with all her strength grabs his wrist. "What - are - you - doing?" she pants and wrings him tightly.

"Saving you," he mumbles and turns his palm around, directs the sparks at her gashing wound.

She gives out a small painful hiss as the wound closes up immediately but her eyes never leave his face. They transgress from pain to panic to relief. He's there with her for the whole ride and it does absolutely nothing to drown the embers inside of him.

"Oh my god," Captain Rogers mumbles and runs his fingers over the newly-formed scar on her front as he stares in disbelief.

Her doubting eyes are still carefully watching Loki, her small fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist. Her mouth goes slack and she finally lets go of him, looks towards the closed up wound, then back at him. "Thank you," she whispers apprehensively.

It makes his seidr glow fluorescently green in his veins and he gets the sudden urge to fall to his knees and lick her clean.

Had Huginn and Muninn only still been alive, he would've made them watch this up close so they could report it back in detail to all of Asgard.

***

The Avengers are not as cold after that. Still wary of him - as they should be - but the hatred and constant fear is gone. And when she comes back from her bed rest, it tickles him that the first thing she does is to seek him out.

"Thank you," she says slowly, almost controlled, and extends her hand as a peace offering, "- for saving my life."

"You already said that."

"Well, I meant it."

He looks up at her. Her mouth is formed to a pout, her body poised in vigilance, her eyes carefully watching his every movement while her hand extends into dangerous grounds. She's still not sure what his motives are and it gives him the opportunity to toy with her a bit. "...I'm honoured?"

A short-lived flame of annoyance flashes across her features as she retracts her hand back to safety with a huff.

"Did I say something wrong?" he quips in the hopes that he can keep her attention.

"You're trying to rile me up."

"How dare you!" He says in mock offence. "I would never!"

She crosses her arms underneath her chest, "I'm trying to offer you an olive branch and all you do is ridicule me. Are you really that desperate for attention?"

It amuses him. He loves when she shows him bits of the real her. "Are you calling me desperate for attention because I don't care I saved your life?"

“Then why did you do it?”

“It was merely strategic,” he shrugs and hopes she doesn’t detect the lie that tastes bitter on his tongue. Why did he save her? The question’s been nagging him for days now. “- it’s never unwise to have an Avenger owe you their life.”

“Wow,” she blinks and shakes her head in disbelief. "I don't know why we all listened to Thor - he said you'd changed but you're clearly still a conniving snake.”

"A snake?” he smiles, relieved that his lie has her convinced, "is that supposed to hurt me? Trust me, darling, I've been called worse."

"Just a gentle reminder that you'll never be anything but a villain."

"I suppose every villain is a hero in their own mind."

She takes the bait and narrows her eyes. "You absolutely destroyed my hometown. All the places I loved. And you have the nerve to call yourself a hero?!"

"Would you prefer a god?"

She flares her nostrils in frustration, "is everything a joke to you?"

"...Mainly?" he smirks "in case you haven't noticed, I'm the God of Mischief - it's in the job description."

She takes a few angry breaths. "Life is always a performance for you, isn't it? Whether it's an endless need for attention, a humorous quip, or the unfolding of another of your great plans, it's always just for show!"

He's excited to feel that the full-blown anger's back and she's seeing red. And to think he was almost disappointed in her?!

She grinds her teeth. "Just so we're clear, I'm not doing this to imply we're even or to make you feel just the slightest bit better about yourself for what you did. Trust me, I'd still rather see you rotting away in a prison cell. You-"

"I must admit," he drawls, gives himself some time to enjoy her undivided, flaming attention as he so impolitely interrupts her, "I like you much more when you're honest with me. When you admit you want to watch me burn! This front of niceties you just put up? This so-called olive branch while you so uncharacteristically give up control? It doesn't suit you."

She wrings her arms in frustration, narrows her eyes into slits. "You're goddamn insufferable!"

***

She's not more intoxicated than the rest of the Avengers, but she is drunk. Agent Romanoff keeps handing her clear liquor in small glasses that they down in a single second, followed by strings of laughs when the alcohol burns in their throats.

He remembers being drunk like that; fresh, sweet-smelling mead from oak barrels in the hundreds, wine in golden carafes on every table. He used to love the parties him and Thor threw; the chaos, the abundance! A heavy flow of alcohol was always a neat little excuse for his erratic behaviour, but the best part was always when the mead was extra good and strong and he could get Thor to follow his lead. Oh, how they used to cause rampage! They would've been unstoppable, had they only been on the same side.

Loki turns around the brown glass bottle in his hand so he can read the blue label; five percent...

He misses the lightheadedness, the parties, him and Thor being on the same side, Asgard. He's never longed for a taste of home this much before. He looks back at her.

"You're being unusually quiet this evening," Thor says from layers away, "should I be worried?"

"Hmm?" Loki snaps out of it, turns his head towards his brother who's sitting with an annoyingly smug expression plastered on his face. "No, I'm just contemplating this piss they call beer. How can they drink it?" He gives the bottle a sniff and winces. "I never thought I'd hear myself say it but I miss Asgard."

"Is that sentiment I sense in you, brother?"

"Absolutely not," he scoffs and looks back at her and Romanoff as they give out a loud laugh. "I'm glad it burned."

Her eyes scan the room, land on Loki's for a split second too long to pretend they didn't register him. For some reason, it satisfies him. She's aware of his presence.

"You like her," he hears Thor's chuckle from beside him.

"Bite your tongue!"

"I notice you stare at her a lot," he chuckles again.

Loki wants to say something. Wants to make Thor pay for what he's implying, but he doesn't really have a great comeback to that.

***

It's later that same evening when she finally approaches him. Toned legs walking towards him, wide hips swaying up the small set of stairs, shoulders pushed arrogantly back as she determinedly stares him down. She only has eyes for him. Finally.

He can't help but meet her halfway; he leans forwards, balances his elbows on his knees, impatiently waits for her to spit on him.

"Loki," she hums with fire in her eyes when the syllables hit her tongue.

"Yes, little dove?" he quips, excited to see her riled up and finally talking to him again.

"I want to talk to you," she scans the room for unwanted attention before her sharp eyes find his again and he feels the bone-white and arctic blue. "This little game you're playing?" She says harshly, "It ends now."

He almost gives in. Almost. "What game?"

"Don't play stupid," she huffs. "I can't do anything without you keeping an eye on me. Tell me what it is you want."

He cannot help the smirk that appears on his lips and he leans a little closer, spreads his knees apart.

"Answer me," she demands, her chest heaving.

"You haven't asked a question," he says calmly as if he truly didn't notice the way her eyes lingered on his crotch.

"You want me to be sincere," she states and takes another step towards him. "-I want the same thing from you."

She's so close he can smell her; sweet, salty, tang on the back of his tongue. She's ripe like a fucking goddess!

He absentmindedly rubs his thighs. "Darling, I assure you; this is me being sincere."

Her chest is heaving in heavy pants. She's annoyed. "Then tell me exactly what you want from me."

She holds his gaze in an insane power play while he ponders for a second. Should he tell her his intentions? String her along for a little while longer and make her second-guess everything? He is the God of Mischief, he supposes, but she looks so sweet, so damn fuckable as she angrily stares down at him. So he gives in and tells her what he wants. After all, why shouldn't he? What's he got to lose?

***

A decent man would've probably kept her at an arms length, tucked her into bed and told her she was way too drunk to make decisions like this, but Loki's not a decent man. He'll take what he can get and leave the decency to team Cap.

With a flick of his wrist, they're back in his bedroom. She's naked in his lap, pushing her lovely tits up against him as she pulls him closer. "You like me," she whispers and licks the shell of his ear. Moves her pelvis against his leather clothing, "you like watching me."

"Shut up," he groans and pulls her flush against his chest, pushes his tongue past her teeth as he grinds her bottom against his crotch.

Her hand comes down between them, slides down over the trail of hair underneath his navel before her fingers find their way to the buttons of his leather pants, unleashes him without a single touch. She eyes him hungrily but keeps her hands to herself, nonverbally insists she has the power to control him. The way she looks at him: he's so hard, it's verging on torture.

"Tell me you like me," she pulls harshly down on his hair, bites him; draws blood from his lower lip.

"Ah!" he hisses though he likes it! "Careful!"

She yanks his hair again with an evil smile and Loki swears, he almost comes.

"You're a devil, aren't you?" he hears himself say as he smacks her ass and bites her nipple, takes advantage of her little jump to push two fingers inside her pulsing heat. She's gushing already, soaks him all the way down to his knuckles as she rides his hand, pinches her own nipples.

"Say my name," he pulls on her earlobe with his teeth. "Spit on me!"

She finds his eye, gives him the same evil smile as before and whispers a short "no," as she arches her back and pushes her nipple back into his mouth. Cheeky little thing.

He curls his fingers and strokes her g-spot, enjoys the sounds she's making for him. Only for him, he reminds himself and feels his chest expanding with something unfamiliar that makes him want to melt into her. He pushes it away; concentrates on the tangible pleasure and not how it makes his head dizzy.

As if on cue, her hands finally find his aching cock and she starts stroking him slowly. He's harder than ever and leaking already.

He looks down between them; small feminine hands caressing him so sweetly is a fantastic contrast to all the biting and pulling. He feels his chest expanding again. "Fuck!" he hisses and pushes himself into her hand to feel something else. Focus on the pleasure, he tells himself and stutters his hips upwards again and again.

Her fingers are running through his hair and she's sucking on his tongue while her hand sets the pace, runs over his stained head. "You want this?" She whispers, bites the thin skin below his jaw.

Fuck yes he wants this! Wants her! He groans.

"You want to save my life?," she bites him again, pulls on his hair. "You want me to spit on you? Are you so desperate to fuck an avenger?"

He hisses at that, grabs her jaw tightly. "I hate the Avengers!"

"Are you sure?" she smiles devilishly and points at the scar on her shoulder. "Are you sure you really hate us?”

He groans in defeat and releases her pretty face with a hiss and positions himself at her entrance, finally pushes himself inside with the same pace as she lowers herself down towards his hips. “Ah! Fuck!”

It's an immediate collision of universes, Loki is seeing stars and needs a second to come down to earth, to savour the feeling, but he hardly has time to get used to the warm wetness squeezing him tight before she starts moving in long, warm pulses.

He's captivated, enchanted! He bites her neck, holds her down, desperate to keep her bouncing in a speed that makes him flex his toes without making him explode. He wants this to last. He wants this memory of her hatefucking him into oblivion. This beautiful, vengeful woman who's mounting him like a stallion and riding him like a valkyrie riding to battle. "Goddess!" he hisses against her neck and she finally finds his mouth and without the use of teeth, presses silky lips against his, makes everything inside of him glow green with desire. It’s desire, he tells himself though it feels like something else.

"Loki," she finally moans in his ear and he's never heard anything sweeter.

He pulls her closer, fucks into her and smells her skin. Kisses the scar below her shoulder.

He saved her.

His seidr runs crazy, tingles throughout every limb, makes him see everything clear: he wants her to want him and only him!

That’s why he saved her.

His last thought before he completely lets go is of the disaster he knows this will bring upon him; his own, personal Ragnarok visible on the horizon. She has the power to make him crumble, to make him burn brighter than the sun and turn to ash. He feels it already and there's no stopping it.

He thinks of Valaskjalf. Of molten gold and flames licking his father’s throne.

She speeds up, moans his name, fills his chest with fire.

Valhalla, I'm coming home.

Find part 2 here

[priyajoyyy]

Tangled

Clarisse la rue x repunzel!pesephone!fem!reader

Reader spent their entire life hidden away in a tower to protect her from the outside world wanting her for her powers, its only when a certain daughter of ares finds her scared and confused, that she finally gets to see the outside world like she always longed to.

Warnings:

Toxic parents, yandere!parents, oblivious!, Clarisse being stubborn, overprotectiveness, cannon typical violence, readers not got the best survival instincts 😭, reader is blonde, more to come maybe

Gods had a weird way of protecting people. And while you could confidently say they your parents were never intending to harm you or your siblings. They definitely went about it in weird ways.

Of course you never realised this, being locked away in a tower your entire life was all you even knew. You didn’t understand that your life wasn’t normal.

You didn’t realise you weren’t the only child your parents had hidden off in magical locations to protect them from Zeus and the dangers of the world in their own twisted ways.

And so you stayed where you were, waiting in your tower for the days that your parents would come and visit or the few creatures of the forest you had befriended came to your window.

With not much else to do but paint or read everyday in the same walls. Your hair growing and failing to ever stop, getting to the point of it being constantly in the way.

🍊☀️🪷

Clarisse was beyond confused.

She was 150% sure they had come the same way they had 100 times before. She was convinced. And yet there had never been a giant tower int he middle of the path all the other times they had taken this route.

Her brother suggested that maybe they took a wrong turning, surely they were just lost.

But Clarisse refused to acknowledge the idea she could even being wrong, no she was curtain they came the right way.

Besides they needed somewhere to camp out for the night anyway, so she took off towards the tower.

“Clarisse what are you doing?” Her brother shouted after her, the girl from the Hermes cabin turning to give him a look of annoyance.

The two followed after the girl, watching for a while as she searches around for some sort of entrance before giving up and turning back to them.

“Come on, we need to find a way up” Clarisse tells the two, not being able to find any sort of entrance other than the window near the top of the tower.

“Why?” The blonde girl asked in annoyance, “can’t we just go find somewhere to settle for the night?”

“Yeah clarisse it’s getting late, we can find our bearings in the morning” her brother added.

“This is somewhere to settle for the night” Clarisse stated plainly, rolling her eyes when the two stared at her in confusion, “it’s a giant tower in the middle of nowhere with no doors…no one’s living up there”

“I don’t know Clarisse…I mean this is meant to be a satyr trail, surely someone’s up there” the boy tried to reason.

“Aren’t you curious?” Clarisse asked, “I know we came the right way, this part of the route is blocked off, there is literally no way we got lost”

She was right, this small section of the trail was hidden away, you could only get in and out through two small entrance/exits, covered by plant life to hide it off.

They had been through the secret path a million times and never once was the tower there.

“Well how do you expect we get up?” The girl asked in defeat.

Clarisse looks around for a moment, before grabbing the bag off of her back and pulling out two daggers and holding them up to the two.

“No” the elder boy stated, to which Clarisse turned and made her way towards the walls of the tower, grabbing onto the vines to test their strength, “no no no Clarisse stop it right now”

The girl ignored him, stabbing the dagger into the wall inbetween the cracks and using both of them and the vines to begin to pull herself up the wall.

“I swear to god Clarisse get down right now!”

“I’ll see if there’s another way to get up once I’m up there” Clarisse calls down to them as they stare at her dumbstruck.

“I’m gonna kill you when you get down!” he called up to her.

“I hate your sister” the blonde said to the boy nonchalantly, collapsing to sit on the floor and wait for the ares daughter to be done you her adventure so they could get to bed.

“Tell me about it” the boy replied glaring up at her as she made her way to the top.

Clarisse made her way up, using the, surprisingly strong vines and plants growing off of the tower as her main support on the way up.

Once she made it to the window she pulled herself up on to the ledge, looking down to see her quest mates sat on the ground talking, rolling her eyes at the sight.

She quietly forced the shutters of the large window open, stepping on the flower bed as she climbed through into the room.

🍊☀️🪷

You hadn’t heard anything while Clarisse had been climbing up the walls, busy in your room painting as she entered into the main room of the tower.

Your hair was laid around the different rooms, leading through doors and hanging from ceilings in an attempt to keep it out of your way, something Clarisse stared at in confusion as she quietly wondered around the room.

She was clearly wrong about no one living in the tower, there were candles and lights lit across the room, and a fire lit int he fireplace.

The kitchen was full of food and everything was relatively clean. And not to mention the yards and yards of hair laid across the place.

That’s what confused Clarisse the most, surely no human had this much hair.

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she stepped backwards, tripped on some of said hair and fell onto the floor, alerting you in the other room.

You heard the noise and turned around quickly, your hair curling round you slightly causing it to tug, getting caught underneath Clarisse and yank on your head slightly. Making you squeak in shock.

Clarisse heard this from the other room, her eyes widening as she looking towards the doors that someone clearly resided in.

Both of you grabbed your weapons, Clarisse clutching one of her daggers, and you running to grab a vase off of a cabinet. Inching your way towards the door that separated the two of you as Clarisse stood up.

Clarisse started to walk up the stairs towards the door as you walked down the hallway, both of you stopping at the door before Clarisse decided to push through it suddenly.

You screamed as the mystery girl collapsed on top of her, hair covering your face as you flailed about, trying to get her off of you as she try’s to find the dagger that she lost on the floor.

“Get off of me” you grunted, pushing the hair out of your eyes and attempting to push her off of you, “who are you?”

Clarisse finally finding her dagger, held it to your throat, causing you to stop fighting back, breathless and staring at the weapon in her hand with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” Clarisse retorted, glaring down at the girl as if she wasn’t the one breaking and entering.

“You’re in my home” you say back in shock, frowning at how the knife gets closer to you.

“And I’m holding the dagger…see how this works?” Clarisse tells you with a smirk, flipping it in her hand as she kept it near your throat.

“I-I’m y/n…” you replied slowly, not knowing what to tell her. Looking at her with wide eyes as she huffs in realisation that it wasn’t the most helpful question to ask.

“Well why do you live here?” Clarisse asks noticing the way the girl looked confused and adding, “I mean you’re in the middle of the forest in a tower with no doors…”

“And I mean what’s going on with your hair, it’s so long” Clarisse continued, “and who uses a vase as a weapon?”

You didn’t really know what to say to any of that, looking at her blankly.

“I…don’t know” you answered eventually, adding in a small voice, “can you please get off of me”

Clarisse sighed, getting up slowly but still holding the dagger pointed towards her as she did.

“Why are you in my house?” You asked meekly, staring at the dagger in fear. Clarisse rolled her eyes noticing your wariness, putting the dagger down to her side to try calm you down.

“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you try anything ok?” Clarisse stated, “I was just looking to see if we could stay the night in here, I didn’t realised anyone lived here or anything”

“We?”

“My friends, well not really my friends but, well they’re just outside” Clarisse told you, “why are you in a tower by yourself exactly? And seriously what’s going on with your hair”

“I just live here…I don’t know what you mean” you answered, “and I guess it’s just my hair…my mum says it’s special”

“Your mum? Special how what do you mean”

“I don’t know it just is” you said, “w-wait, no, I’m not meant to tell anyone that”

Clarisses eyebrows furrowed at that, looking at you as though you were an idiot causing you to blush at her.

“Why can’t you tell anyone about your hair…” Clarisse asked.

“Mummy said not to” you said hesitantly.

Clarisse smirked at that, only seconds ago you said you couldn’t tell anyone and yet here you were continuing on with the subject.

“And mummy is?” She asked condescendingly, something you didn’t pick up on as you went to answer.

“Ummm Persephone…” you responded simply.

“What?” Clarisse asked in confusion, looking at you like you were mad. Sure, she knew you couldn’t be mortal, but a demigod?

She supposed the flowers and plants in full bloom in autumn made sense by that, it didn’t quite explain the hair but she was sure it had something to do with that.

“You’re a demigod?” She asked in confusion.

“What?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at her, “what’s that?”

Clarisse stared at you for a moment, you felt like she was scrutinising your entire existence as she looked you up and down.

Suddenly she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the door, you stumbling as she continued down the stairs towards the main room of the tower and leaving you stood in the middle.

You watched her as she made her way to the window, opening it again and shouting down at her ‘friends’ she told you about earlier.

“It’s all safe” Clarisse shouted, before turning back to you, “do you have any rope?”

You looked at her in shock that she was just inviting people inside your home, speaking when she sent you a look of annoyance, “no?”

Clarisse looked around the room for a moment before settling on your hair that hung around the room, turning back to you with a new look in her eyes.

“You sure?” Clarisse asked, leaning down to pick up your hair and hold it up for you to see.

“W-what? No you can’t use my hair!” You told her, rushing forward to remove it from clarisses hands leaving you stood right in front of her.

She looked down at you with a smirk, taking the hair back, “come on, they won’t hang from it or anything, they just need something to hold for leverage to get up”

You rolled your eyes with a pout at that, looking up at her before walking towards the window, looking down at the two on the ground, who were now beyond confused at the blonde girl appearing.

You leant over to reach the walls of the tower then, Clarisse running over to hold on to you as you stumbled slightly, “be careful!”

You blushed feeling her hands on your hips, shaking yourself out of it and leaning down to touch the plants and vines attached to the stone.

Clarisse watched as the plants grew, covering the side of the wall all over and bits of vines hanging down for the two at the bottom to hold on to.

Once it was fully grown you turned back around to Clarisse, underestimating how close you both were when you did so.

You smiled up at the shocked look on her face, proud of yourself for figuring out a solution to the situation, hearing clarisses brother begin to scale up the side of the wall as you and Clarisse faced each other.

Taglist:

@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog @l0veshellarcelia @asvterias @ashisabitgay

Wanna rewatch tangled now 🤩

Pretty sure this is shit but oh well

[hazbinwhoree]

Okay so I’m violently obsessed w this man and your writings so… can I request something way too self indulgent and specific ? If this is too much feel free to ignore this ask but an Adam x fallen angel!reader who before she fell was his third wife in heaven for like a few hundred years unaware of the exterminations and when she finds out she and Adam argue and it results in her wings being ripped off and her cast to hell… and once in hell she keeps a low profile and her identity a secret. But sees about the hazbin hotel on TV and goes to offer her help to Charlie because even tho she knows she can’t go back to heaven, it’d be nice to help some sinners if possible. Not expecting things to ramp up so much and involve Adam. But like… if the angelic dagger nifty stabbed him with didn’t kill him, say charlie and reader take him into the newly built hotel and reader tries to nurse him back to health and there’s angst bc it’s been 20 years since he basically cast his own wife, his angel to rot in hell??

Sorry if you hate this idea n don’t wanna do it I totally don’t blame you I’m just on Adam brain rot and have a handful of self inserts/ocs to ship a him in different AUs but this is my favorite despite how cheesy it probably is

Twenty Years in Eternity

“What do you mean exterminate them?” (Name) asks, appalled. “Exactly what it fuckin’ sounds like, babe,” Adam laughed. “It’s population control!” “Population control!? It’s murder!” “I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up about this,” Adam scoffed.

“Because not every sinner in Hell deserves to be there!”

Silence. (Name) had just proclaimed blasphemy. Adam’s eyes moved to something behind her and his face dropped. “(Name).” (Name) turned around to find Sera, looking down at her in disapproval. “Such blasphemy is not tolerated in Heaven,” Sera said coldly.

Adam couldn’t do anything as Sera knocked (Name) to the ground, and abruptly tore off her wings. (Name) screamed. Sera opened a portal overlooking Hell, and grabbed (Name). “Adam help!” (Name) cried, struggling. Adam could only stand and watch. Neither of them were any match for Sera, who threw (Name) into the portal and shut it behind her.

And that was the last Adam saw of his wife for twenty years.

In Hell, (Name) found her way as a Fallen, until she heard about the Princess of Hell’s endeavor to rehab sinners to go to Heaven. Intrigued, (Name) made her way to the Hotel one day. She knew Heaven would never accept this plan, but she didn’t want to kill Charlie’s spirits.

(Name) quickly became a permanent fixture of the hotel, befriending the inhabitants. She got particularly close to Angel Dust.

Every year, during the extermination, she would hide, not out of fear for her life, the exorcists didn’t kill the Fallen, but so that she didn’t have to deal with the pain of seeing the angels and run the risk of seeing Adam.

Unbeknownst to her, Adam searched for her during every extermination.

(Name) was shocked when Charlie giddily announced that she had secured a meeting with Heaven. She hadn’t been expecting Heaven to let her get this far.

But further she did not get, coming back from the meeting absolutely fuming.

“What happened?” (Name) asked. “The guy was such a… such a… prick!” “Shot down the hotel idea?” “Adam didn’t even let me finish my presentation. He said Hell is forever whether we like it or not. And he cut the extermination time in half, they’re coming back in six months!”

(Name)’s blood ran cold. “Adam?”

“Yeah, like the first man, Adam. He was such an asshole.”

“Yeah that sounds like him,” (Name) muttered.

Charlie looked at her funny. “Did you know him when you were an angel?”

“Know him? I was married to him.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. “You’re his third wife!?” (Name) nodded. “Unfortunately.”

“He talked about you,” Charlie said. “It was the only time he actually sounded genuine.” “What did he say?” (Name) couldn’t help her curiosity.

“He said that Hell is forever, and if someone like his wife could end up there with no chance out, sinners were certainly not leaving.”

(Name) hummed. “He sounded kind of sad,” Charlie said. “I think he misses you.” “Yeah, well, it’s been twenty years. He’ll get over it. He sure didn’t do anything to stop me from ending up here. We were fighting over the extermination.”

“That’s what got you sent here?” Charlie asked. (Name) nodded. “I’m sorry,” is all Charlie could say.

Weeks passed and she managed to get another meeting with Heaven, this time going past Adam and straight to the Seraphim. (Name) had no idea how she did it, but knew the results would be the same in the end.

When Charlie and Vaggie came tumbling through the portal, Charlie more upset than (Name) had ever seen her, she knew she had been right.

“He said he’s attacking the hotel first!” Charlie cried, throwing herself into Angel’s arms. “Who, Adam?” (Name) asked, feeling nauseous. “Yes!” “It’s okay, Charlie, we’ll stand our ground and defend the hotel. Remember, angels can die. We just need to get our hands on some angelic metal,” Vaggie soothed.

The next month was spent preparing for battle. (Name) was going to stay out of it, and Charlie understood. (Name) figured there wasn’t much she could contribute anyway. So when the extermination came, she locked herself in her room.

She could hear the battle raging outside, and it sounded like her side was losing. She almost went out to help, until she heard Adam’s sadistic laugh outside her window. She remembered why she wasn’t involving herself. She couldn’t face Adam.

(Name) was content staying put, until she no longer had a choice, the hotel splitting in half. She very nearly got crushed in the rubble, but somehow made it out unharmed. As she lay on the ground catching her breath, she heard a familiar, angry voice. “I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these nuts!”

(Name) looked up to see Adam’s back as he screamed at Lucifer and Charlie. She also saw Nifty, running up behind Adam with a knife. “NO!” (Name) cried out, but it was too late. Nifty plunged the blade through Adam’s back. Adam choked, body freezing for a moment before he fell on his stomach.

Nifty raised the blade to keep stabbing him, but (Name) ran over as fast as she could and pushed Nifty off of him.

“No, no no no.” (Name) gently turned Adam onto his back. He opened his eyes, and when he saw her, he smiled. “(Name),” he croaked. His eyes fluttered shut but the soft smile never left his face. “Adam, no, stay with me, please,” (Name) begged. She looked up at Charlie. “Please, help me!”

Adam was the last person Charlie wanted to save, but her belief in mercy and hatred of seeing (Name) so upset won over, and she knelt down beside Adam, putting pressure on his wound. “Dad, there has to be something you can do.”

Lucifer sighed. He walked over and held a hand over the stab wound, concentrating. It began to heal, just enough to stem the bleeding before Lucifer stopped. “There. He won’t bleed out, but he’s lost a lot of blood.”

Adam had fallen unconscious.

Lucifer refocused his efforts on repairing the hotel. When it was back together, Charlie helped (Name) drag Adam inside. They got to (Name)’s room and deposited Adam on her bed. Adam didn’t stir. Charlie left (Name) to have her privacy with him.

When Charlie left, (Name) unzipped and pulled off Adam’s robe, lifting up his shirt underneath to reveal the stab wound. With a wet washcloth she began to clean the wound and blood off his body. When she was done, she grabbed gauze (Charlie left her with a first-aid kit) and wrapped Adam’s torso.

Content, she finally situated him into the bed comfortably, pulling the covers up to his chest. As she knelt next to the bed, stroking Adam’s hair back gently, Adam’s eyes fluttered open. He looked panicked until (Name)’s face came into view.

“(Name).” “Adam.”

(Name) forgot all her previous anger towards Adam and hugged him in relief. “You’re okay,” she cried. Adam looked taken aback before smiling and wrapping his arms around her. “Thanks to you.” “Thanks to Lucifer, really–” “Never say his name in front of me again.”

(Name) blinked. “Right, of course. But he did kind of save your life.” “Only because of you,” Adam retorted. (Name) was silent. He had a point.

The silence consumed them as they stared at one another, waiting for the other to speak. “You abandoned me,” they said at the same time. “What?” “What the fuck do you mean–”

(Name) took a deep breath. “You abandoned me in Heaven, when Sera tore off my fucking wings and threw me down here. You abandoned me as a Fallen. How did I abandon you?”

“You abandoned me by questioning the extermination, and speaking blasphemy. You knew what happened to angels who speak blasphemy. And you still did it. There was nothing I could fucking do. Sera is like, a million times stronger than me. And for the record, I searched for you. Every extermination. I looked for you. You abandoned me, to be alone, again.”

(Name) was silent. She hadn’t realized that was how he felt about the situation.

“I love you, and I fuckin’ miss you. Alright?” Adam confessed. (Name)’s eyes began to well with tears. “I love you and miss you too.” She leaned over him and pressed her lips to his. Adam kissed back with fervor, reaching up to cup her face in one large hand. They fit together like missing puzzle pieces.

Two separated soulmates finally reunited.

[lady-ashfade]

Naive Sister

Yandere Platonic!Percabeth x naive!little!sister!reader vs Yandere!Platonic!luke castellan

-♡ ask: Ok so basically it’s platonic yan percbeth (reader is Percy’s little sister) and reader sides with Luke and is like “I chose him!!” And they are like “lowkey nahh” @maria699669

-♡ ah honestly this is really short, but this was such a good idea so thank you.

-♡ warning: short, yandere behavior, sibling betrayal?, this is drama.

he had left for too long. he hated to leave you at camp without him, but Luke swore to keep you safe. you weren’t aloud to come along, not like he wanted you to come anyway because it was too dangerous.

percy should have taken you.

you grew close with luke in the time percy was gone because he took you under his wing and reminded you of your big brother. he was kind, and taught you many things. even protected you from everyone! he told you the kids were acting nice but wanted to hurt you so you needed to stay with him. luke was your best friend.

his words got into your mind and took over your own thoughts. it was easy thanks to how percy treated you, poor you couldn’t think for your own. so when he told you how cruel the gods were and how dangerous they could be. even how your father treated your brother like a soldier and that was a perfect plan on his part.

“y/n, you shouldn’t be here.” Percy yelled as annabeth stood next to him with her dagger drawn. you creep closer with wide eyes at all the weapons pointed.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Go back to your cabin and stay there,” annabeth looked at you and tried to soften her features to make you feel safe, “we are all okay.” you bite your lip and nod along, you didn’t think of it and went to walk away.

Luke watched you turn your back, he couldn’t bare to lose you now. “Y/n, this is your time. Remember what I told you?” Percy glanced between the two of you. what was he talking about?

“The gods?” You turn back around.

“Y/n go back to your room!”

“No y/n! Remember the stories I told you? Come with me?” Percy tightened his jaw and glared at luke, wanting to stab him in that moment. You are his sister and he dare try take you away?

what surprised everyone was how you walked to him instead of percy. you grabbed ahold of his extended hand as the other hand pointed at percy with his sword. luke felt smug that you choose him. so he smirked at percy victorious.

“I’m going with him! I’ll make sure to be good!” even now you still didn’t understand what was happening. yet you sided with him? percy felt furious.

“you sly bastard! while I was out there risking my life you decide to take what is mine? I’ll kill you!” he stepped closer ready to lunge at him but stopped when you stood in front of him.

“Don’t hurt him! I promise brother it’s what is best, luke said so!” You point at the older boy. “He wouldn’t lie to me!”

annabeth got upset and rolled her eyes, “you think you can take her luke? in the middle of your war what would happen to her?” she moved closer like percy, “you can’t protect her.”

“Like you can? At least she will be on the winning side.”

Percy didn’t care anymore and went for Luke and pushed you out of the way, you fell to the ground with a cry. your eyes filled with tears at the small pain you felt and the two fighting before you. annabeth came over to check over you for cuts and patted your head while hiding you in a hug. she wasn’t mad at you, you were just too naive to see what was happening.

“She my sister now, Percy.” Luke smirks as the portal opens behind him, “just a matter of time before I get her back.”

Taglist: @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows @repostingmyfavs

[brokenmenswhore]

I’m utterly feral with how you write Aegon! Words cannot describe the utter cuteness aggression I get I with this pathetic man and how well you write his patheticness!

Fem!Reader is a Stark betrothed to Aegon but in being a love hate relationship with the idea because he’s so frustrating yet so lovable and she doesn’t understand how to feel about that, but instead of taking her anger out on Aegon (poor boy is already getting bullied enough by his own mother) she takes it out in training or fighting cause she’d rather die than hurt him. But perhaps the tension grows to be too much and she just storms in and kisses him passionately cause she couldn’t take it anymore.

thank you so much! i love my men broken, homicidal, and pathetic 🫶🏻 this is formatted as a drabble!

headsplit | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: none!

────── ☾ ──────

Your sword pierced the bale of hay, almost the entire blade disappearing into the flakes as you stopped for a brief moment to catch your breath.

If I wish to go to war, then we will go to war. You are not yet my wife, why must it matter to you?

You pulled the sword out of the hay, slicing a few stiff strands as you hit either side of the bale, using all your might to express your anger.

You very well may come to loathe this betrothal, Stark.

You let out an exasperated scream as you pierced the hay bales again.

What I do in the streets at night is of no concern to you.

You continually stabbed the bale of hay as several more frustrating sentences Aegon had spoken to you rang through your mind. You were confused and overwhelmed, your only outlet being your sword and the unlucky object that came to face it.

Your betrothal to Aegon came as a surprise to you both. Aegon was under the impression that he would one day marry his sister, Heleana, and you never anticipated the man you would marry would be of high standing, nevertheless the highest standing possible.

Aegon was a complete headsplit.

Oftentimes he drove you crazy, speaking without thinking first or taking drastic actions without any regard for others. He was impulsive, and believed that since he was in line for the throne, his opinion was automatically valued over your own. He did whatever he wanted under the guise of “but I’m the future king” and unintentionally refused to include you.

On the other hand, he was one of the easiest people to care for that you’d ever met. You could have him wrapped around your finger or melting in your arms from just a little bit of affection and care. When you shared an intimate, genuine moment, you could truly see yourself loving him and aiding him for the rest of your lives. You were beginning to care for him, and your attraction toward him was not something you could hide any longer.

Then he would drink too much and cause a scene and leave you frustrated and confused.

You wiped the sweat from your hairline, stabbing your blade into the top of the bale of hay and pausing your training for a moment.

Training was one of the only ways you could express your anger. Aegon made your brain ache, and sometimes you wanted to shake him or scream, but you knew your temperament, and you would rather die than hurt him. He had been hurt enough in his life.

You were constantly battling with yourself over how you felt toward your betrothal. You ultimately decided that you were unsure how to feel, but it would hopefully turn out alright.

The internal tension within yourself was presenting itself in the way you interacted with Aegon. Your tone of voice was becoming exasperated, and you had to force yourself to keep calm when speaking to him. Other times, your mutual disdain and desire was so thick that the air felt like it was weighing you down.

You left the sword in the hay, opting for your dagger. You gripped the hilt as tight as you could as you faced a tall block of wood.

You repeatedly stabbed the block of wood until one strike was hard enough to pierce through the wood, your dagger getting stuck deep enough that you couldn’t pull it out.

You groaned in frustration, giving up on your training for the day and retreating back to your chambers to bathe.

When you sunk into the warm water, you took a deep breath, recounting conversations you’d had with your betrothed in place of trying to relax like you intended.

“Where were you?” you asked.

“Out,” was all Aegon said.

You sighed, dropping your head briefly before speaking again. “As your future wife, I expect you should make yourself comfortable speaking of your whereabouts.”

“As your future husband, I expect you to refrain from questioning me on my whereabouts.”

“Aegon, our betrothal signals a partnership, not an ownership in which I simply just bark when you say to bark.”

Aegon stood and approached you. “And if I wish to hear you bark like the little bitch you are?”

You closed your eyes as you sank further into the tub, recounting more memories.

“Because it is stupid, Aegon, just plain stupid.”

“Do not call my ideas stupid!”

“You’ll get yourself hurt, Aegon!” you screamed.

Aegon bowed his head, running his hands over his eyes. One moment ago, he was screaming, and now, he was breaking down in tears.

“Shit, Aegon,” you nearly whispered, running toward him and taking him in your arms, “I’m sorry I raised my voice, that was not okay.”

He rested his head on your shoulder and attempted to catch his breathing.

“I never want to hurt you, Aegon, I’m sorry.”

Aegon lifted his head, his eyes puffy as he looked at you. “You don’t?”

“What?”

“You don’t ever want to hurt me? Really?” Aegon spoke, his voice weak.

“Never,” you assured him, “and I am so so sorry if I did. It won’t happen again.”

Aegon hugged you, something he had never done before. He embraced your body tightly, desperate to feel close to you.

You allowed the bath water to relax the tension in your muscles as you rested the back of your head against the metal. Your brain was almost sore from all the instances swirling around in your mind.

“I don’t understand why I need to tell you these things,” Aegon shrugged, nonchalant.

“Why wouldn’t I want to know?” you retorted.

“I just don’t get why it matters.”

“Because knowing you’re safe is important.”

“I don’t get why you would care so much.”

“Aegon,” you sighed, “we are to be married.”

“And?”

You sighed in frustration. “So, naturally, a wife cares about her husband and his safety.”

“I am not your husband yet.”

“Yes but-“ you cut yourself off before you said something you regret out of anger.

You sat up in the bathtub, an idea popping into your head, and your body began to follow through before you could stop it. You stepped out of the tub, drying yourself off briefly and tying your robe around your waist.

With a huff, you marched out of your chambers and through the hallways. When you reached Aegon’s chambers, you didn’t even bother to knock.

You pushed the door open to find him seated in front of the table model of King’s Landing. He tilted his head upward to look at you, and you continued to step toward him.

“What are you-“

With no regard for his words, you took Aegon’s face in your hands and kissed him, hard.

He immediately responded, kissing you back. After a few moments, the intensity wore off, and you were simply making out, gentleness and passion finally presenting itself to you both.

You pulled away, nearly out of breath as you said, “sorry, couldn’t take it anymore.”

Aegon smiled at you, pulling you back into a soft kiss.

[agaypanic]

former theater kid as well !! maybe a story about regina with a gf in theater club ?

My Little Star (Regina George X Theater Kid!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Your girlfriend comes to see you in your last high school show.

A/N: depending on which regina you’re envisioning with this, au where everyone has smartphones. post!mean girls regina bc then i wont feel too bad if she seems too ooc. ive been thinking a lot about romeo and juliet lately so the play is romeo and juliet teehee

***

If you had told your younger self that at the end of your senior year, you’d be the leading star in your final show and be dating Regina George, she would’ve thought you were insane.

Yet here you were, getting ready for the opening night of Romeo and Juliet while your girlfriend spam-texted you words of encouragement.

Regina <3

You’re gonna do so good, I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU!!!

I was gonna keep it a surprise until after the show, but I got your favorite 

*Sent 1 Attachment*

Unlocking your phone to respond, you were greeted with a picture of Regina sitting in the auditorium holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. She had a great big smile on her face, her eyes squinting from it. 

Your breath hitched. You knew Regina loved you, but the picture radiated her feelings of pride for you. It made you want to run out and smother her in affection.

Instead, you texted her back.

You

OMG you’re literally the sweetest Regina!!

I’ll be looking for you in the audience lol

Regina <3

I’m sitting in the very center, so hopefully I’m easy to spot

Especially with this giant ass bouquet

You laughed at the message and soon got a tap on your shoulder from one of your friends, telling you places were in five minutes.

You

I have to go, we’re gonna start soon

But I’ll be looking for you :)) 

You waited until you saw a response from Regina before putting your phone in your bag.

Regina <3

YOU’RE GONNA DO AMAZING

BREAK A LEG <3333

DON’T ACTUALLY BREAK A LEG THO

THAT’D BE BAD

I LOVE YOU!!!

Laughing at her stream of messages, you put your phone away and rushed out to your place. As much as you revel in the fact that you had a leading role, you were already waiting for the show to be over so you could see Regina.

***

If you had to choose one, the death scene was probably your favorite. It was dramatic, which was always fun, and you got to stab yourself with a retractable blade.

“What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hand?” You took the empty cup out of Romeo’s, whose real name was Jared, stiff hand, inspecting it. “Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after?” You dropped the cup in distress, wondering what to do. Then your eyes fell on Jared’s lips, and you had a revelation. “I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make die with a restorative.”

You held his face gently in your hands and leaned down to kiss him. Every time you went through a kiss scene with Jared, you pretended it was Regina you were kissing. The passion seemed more authentic that way.

You pulled away, staring down at Jared.

“Thy lips are warm.” You said brokenheartedly. You were just barely too late. If only he had waited a while longer to drink the poison so you’d be awake to stop him.

“Lead, boy: which way?” You heard from offstage. 

“Yea, noise?” You looked toward the direction of the noise’s source in a panic. “Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger!”

You grabbed Romeo’s dagger and raised it to the audience. And that’s when you caught a glimpse of Regina. Despite the room being dark and her being far away, you could feel her excitement as she watched. You had to stop yourself from smiling.

“This is thy sheath,” You say before shoving the dagger into your heart. You gasp a little and look up. To the audience, you could’ve been looking up to the heavens in your last moments. But you were doing your best to stare into Regina’s eyes that were fixated on you. “There rust, and let me die.”

With that, you fell on top of Jared’s body, doing your best not to crush him as you ‘died.’

The scene continued from there, and you did your best not to move. Your back was killing you from the long show, but eventually, it ended. When you came out for bows, you heard a particularly loud cheer, and you didn’t have to guess who it was. It made you smile even more, so much that your cheeks started getting sore.

When the bows were over, and the cast and crew were finding their friends and family in the audience, you ran to Regina. It was a bit difficult weaving through the crowd, especially in your costume, but eventually, you reached the blonde, who had her arms opened wide and ready to catch you.

“You were amazing!” Regina all but shouted in your ear as she hugged you, squeezing you tightly. “Absolutely showstopping. One day, you’ll be a famous actress.”

“You think too highly of me, Regina.” You said with a giggle, and you were sure that your reddening cheeks were showing through your heavy stage makeup.

You grabbed your girlfriend’s face and kissed her. It was a million times better than pretending you were kissing her instead of Jared when you were on stage. Regina’s hands dropped to your hips, pulling you close against her. When you let out a little moan, you knew you should pull away before you felt like you couldn’t turn back.

“These are for you,” Regina said before biting her slightly swollen lip, giving you the giant bouquet she had gotten for you. One thing about Regina was that she was never cheap.

“I love them.” You smiled, giving her a few pecks.

“Anything for you, my little star.” The nickname made you giddy, made you feel like you were the only ones in this gigantic room. “Now how about you go change, we get some food, and then you sleep over at my house?”

“That sounds perfect.” You kissed Regina again; it was like you were addicted to her lips. “I should go now. If I kiss you anymore, I’ll probably never leave.”

“I definitely wouldn’t complain,” Regina smirked, but agreed that you should go change. She turned you around by the shoulders and gave you a quick pat on the butt to send you on your way, laughing at the way you squealed in surprise.

[ilys00ga]

BABY, I CARE FOR YOU.

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ genre: sickfic, best friends to potential lovers (who knows?), fluffy fluff, yoongi being the best bff you could ever ask for, I miss him so much.

➞ synopsis: where the reader is sick and her bff is always there for the rescue.

➞ warnings: none.

➞ A/N: another request by @parkjennykim, who used 'she/her' pronouns in the req so I used those accordingly. This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :)

PS. readers, remember my reqs are still open for now. you can go ahead and send some (read pinned post if u haven't yet, tho).

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the bag you've been carrying all day slipped off of your shoulder as soon as you pushed the door to your apartment open and stepped in. not bothering to pick it up, you remove your shoes and leave them somewhere near the entrance and take a deep breath through the nose.

your body was having a party that day. muscles and head aching like crazy, throat bleeding as it burned with a ticklish feeling that lingered for hours and bringing out coughing fits from your chest every few minutes, legs barely holding you up and an annoyingly runny nose, you're sure the skin around it is red and raw from how you've been rubbing at it with tissues all day. not to forget the fact that you were freezing to death even though the heaters were doing their work in the flat more than enough.

“Mom is finally home!” A loud squeal came rushing from down the hall. You raised your head with some difficulty to see your best friend approaching you with your cat, Leo, in his arms and a wide smile adorning his face. He stopped in his tracks and frowned, however, as soon as he noticed your scowling expression and bloodshot eyes.

“Woah, you look so not happy right now.” he commented.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” Though your expression softened as you spoke, your voice still held a wince the more uncomfortable the light bulb became to your squinted eyes.

“You didn’t answer my calls or even texts, so I just decided to come over myself.” he explained, then eyed you up with knitted brows and a barely noticeable pout on his cherry red lips, “are you okay?”

“My head and body are killing me. I’m going to sleep. You can stay as much as you like, just feed Leo before you leave, plea-." A couple of sneezes cut your sentence off. The action stabbed daggers into your already throbbing brain; so painful that your eyes teared up and you squeezed your hands around your skull to try and control the waves of shock that hit you all of a sudden.

“Wait,” Yoongi put Leo on the floor and walked towards you. the back of his hand felt like a soft, warm blanket wrapped up around your body on a cold, snowy night as it rested on your forehead, so you closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re so hot.” he grimaced at the heat that bit his skin, and when he noticed how you smirked mischievously with your eyes still closed shut, he whined, “don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your tongue felt numb as you blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

“Come, you need to take a warm bath and eat something.” his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling towards the bathroom.

"Your hands are always warm. I like that a lot." you whispered, absent-mindedly eying the way he was soothingly caressing the skin under his thumb.

“Are you going to bathe me?” his cheeks warmed up at the question you blurted so suddenly, but the way you were slurring your words implied that none of the things you were rambling about were intentional. the fever really took its toll on your brain.

“Go do your thing, and I'm going to make you something warm to eat.” he bit his lower lip and pointed towards the bathroom, leaving to start doing his task in the kitchen.

"The walls are spinning around me!" You whimpered as soon as you entered your room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, a fluffy, warm hoodie swallowing your torso and a pair of sweatpants. Yoongi, who was sitting on your bed, immediately fixed his gaze on you with a small smile. you could spot your favorite pair of socks laying beside him on the bed sheets, and your heart skipped a beat or two at how thoughtful that small gesture alone was.

"I'm sorry. let me just blow dry your hair, and then you can eat." he apologized, pointing at the hair dryer he'd been holding in his hand and patting the empty spot next to him.

"You're spoiling me today." You complained, but still obediently sat besides your sweet friend.

"You're sick, I'm taking care of you." he replied matter-of-factly.

you murmured a small 'thank you' before he gently started taking the wet towel off your head, then started carefully drying your hair.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you found Yoongi setting plates, along with utensils on the small table located by the wall. his eyes landed on you as soon as your painful-sounding coughs announced your arrival.

“Feeling any better?” his brows rose worriedly, and his gaze followed your hunched up body as it walked and took a seat.

“kind of. thanks for the food.” You offered a genuine smile despite all the tiredness washing over your limbs. he nodded knowingly.

“Here, take these when you finish eating.” He put a tablet right next to your bowl and sat across from you, digging into his own plate as well.

After a while, you decided to break the comfortable silence when your eyes fell upon the clock hanging just above the door frame, “You have work tomorrow, and it’s getting late. you should probably go.”

“I know you’re a jackass and you’d sleep on an empty stomach if you wanted to, even when you’re sick.” he muttered so casually it almost made you giggle if it weren't for the guilt of forcing him to stay taking over your mind.

“That’s not right!” You started to argue but hissed when your head reminded you that it still got a tornado going on inside of it as it throbbed even harder.

“Stop talking and eat!” he scolded, and you wordlessly complied.

"I'm not leaving until you're tucked into bed and fast asleep," he added in a stern tone after a small pause, making you grin weakly and stuff your face with another spoonful of soup.

"Are you feeling any better?" Once again, yoongi asked after pulling the duvet over your chin. he chose to sit right by your side, on the floor and with his back facing you.

you replied with a muffled hum, barely audible as you were busy gratefully enjoying the softness of your comforter with closed eyes. it felt as though it had some kind of magic that absorbed all the aching tension in your body, allowing you to finally heave a sigh in relief after such a long, tiring day.

"Where's Leo?" you asked.

"probably napping somewhere after his meal."

"You fed him?"

"Of course I did. I'm not like you, forgetting my cat as soon as I get sick." he smirked teasingly.

"I didn't! I knew you were gonna stay, and I trusted you, like I always do." Your voice was only getting weaker and weaker, sleepy as you fought a battle against sleep just to answer your cheeky best friend.

Yoongi only smiled, glancing at you with tinted cheeks. he allowed his gaze to linger just a tad bit more on your closed eyes, nose poking out above the fuzzy blanket and shoulders ever so faintly shivering as the fever still clung onto you. he found the sight so endearing, he chuckled quietly and sighed, "Good to know you do."

"'m so 'ired." You slurred.

"Sleep, darling. I'm right here." was the last thing you heard him say ever so gently before surrendering your powers and drifting into a deep slumber.

Yoongi kept observing as you slept for a while before standing up. He bent down to press one soft kiss on your cheek and another one on your forehead, then walked out of the room with extra efforts not to make any noise and disturb your peaceful night when it had just started.

"Mom is sleeping. Let's hang out in the living room, hmm?" He picked up the fluffy cat that came running towards him as soon as he saw the door opening and kissed his head. heading towards the living room with a small smile on his face.

[soulessjourney]

No Time To Die

Paring: Astarion x fem!TavReader

Word count: 2k

Summary: Astarion and Tav share an intimate moment alone after she is wounded during the battle with Cazador.

Warnings: Little Angst, Mentions of violence, OOC Astarion, Fluff and lots of it

The battle with Cazador proved to be no easy feat, particularly when he was determined to have Astarion play a role in his ascension. Astarion stood steadfastly by your side as you confronted Cazador, with your other companions ready for a fight behind you. The moment Astarion was torn away from you, everything blurred into a reddish haze. Astarion's pleas for freedom echoed, while Shadowheart and Wyll urged you to focus on reaching him. You needed no second prompting as you skillfully cut through your adversaries, your attention fixed on the vampire positioned on the opposite side of the room.

Upon reaching Astarion, you extended your hand toward him, only to be abruptly pulled back and thrown to the floor, Astarion tumbling a few feet away from you. "Tav!" Karlach's voice echoed as your gaze caught a blade coming your way. Rolling to the side, you winced at the clash of metal against the marble floors. Rising to your feet, you evaded Cazador's lunges, his eyes filled with madness.

"I will not let you hinder my ascension. Why defend Astarion so fiercely? He's nothing and will never be anything. You're protecting damaged goods," Cazador taunted, his words dripping with venom as he sliced at you, catching your arm. A yelp escaped you, catching Astarion's attention as he raced toward you, stumbling over his feet. Everything unfolded in slow motion as you found yourself on the ground again, your back colliding with a pillar. Astarion had tackled Cazador, but his words were unintelligible amid the growing ringing in your head.

Sitting up, you leaned against the pillar, a sharp pain shooting through your side, eliciting a strangled groan. Looking down, your mouth opened and closed in a silent scream at the sight of Cazador's dagger firmly planted in your side. A gasp emanated from Shadowheart, who dropped to her knees. "Oh gods, Tav," she whispered, her hands hovering over the dagger. The battle played out in her eyes as she deliberated whether to remove the dagger, the odds seemingly against you with its deep implantation in your side.

Astarion did a double take as your face paled, and you slumped further against the pillar. The prospect of your death weighed heavily on you, considering that Astarion would finally be free. However, another realization struck you - he would be left alone, just as he had been for the past two hundred years. The thought of abandoning him in such a manner became unbearable. Your vision began to blur, your eyes focusing on Astarion as he repeatedly stabbed Cazador, his broken screams echoing through the room. He had forsaken his ascension, and some part of you felt a sense of pride. Astarion was giving up something that he knew, deep down, would lead to his destruction.

Letting out another groan, your eyes began to droop shut as you felt Shadowheart shaking you. "Tav, stay with me, do not close your eyes," panic filled her voice. Opening your eyes slowly, you could see the pure horror on Astarion’s face as he stood and stumbled towards you. Your other companions rushed towards you, screaming your name as you descended into a realm of slumber.

----

The atmosphere around the camp was tense. Wyll and Karlach sat by the fire in complete silence, while Gale, Halsin, and Shadowheart were stationed in your tent, working fervently to save your life. At the edge of the camp, Astarion paced, running his fingers through his silver locks. Lae’zel observed her companions before setting down the dagger she was sharpening.

“Pacing and looking so down won’t save her life. If anything, I would say you’re more likely to end it with the amount of brooding you all are doing,” Lae’zel remarked, scanning the individuals in front of her.

Karlach was the first to speak up. “I’m sorry, mate. It’s just that she’s in there alone, fighting for her life, and there’s nothing we can do but hope the other three can save her.” She shifted her eyes to Astarion, who, a few feet away, was still pacing. “I'm also worried about Astarion; he clearly blames himself for what happened to her.”

Lae’zel nodded, letting out a soft hum of agreement. “You say she’s alone, but she is not. Tav has us here waiting for her, does she not?” Lae’zel asked, watching as Karlach looked back towards her and nodded. “Then don’t say she is alone when she is not. As much as she can get on my nerves, Tav is strong, and she wouldn’t let something as small as a dagger take her out of this world. She’s our stubborn leader for a reason.”

Her words were interrupted by Shadowheart and Gale stepping out of the tent, whispering amongst themselves before taking a seat on the log just to the right of Lae’zel. “How is she?” Wyll asked, attempting to keep his voice low, perhaps to prevent Astarion from finding another reason to pace a hole into the ground, if he hadn’t already.

Gale sighed and looked to Shadowheart, who appeared just as defeated. “We did all we can. Now, it’s up to her to finish the fight. Halsin is in there now in case something happens or if she wakes.” Shadowheart gazed toward the tent, her eyes softening. “She’ll wake up. She has to.”

Gale stood up and made his way towards Astarion, stopping just short of him. “It’s not your fault, Astarion. She knew what was going to happen; she took that dagger for you so you could live,” he said, watching as the vampire ceased pacing. “She knew the risks, and she was willing to take them all for you.”

Astarion turned to face Gale slowly, his gaze broken. “What if I lose her? That would just be one more person that Cazador took from me. Even from the dead, he wants me to suffer like I always have,” he spat, balling his hands into fists. “She has to live, Gale. Not just for me but for all of us. We are so close to winning this war; we can’t lose her now.” Astarion felt like he was losing his mind. He had given up ascension for you, his one true love, and now you were knocking on death’s door.

“Have faith in her, Astarion. When have you known her to simply give up? Tav would fight the Netherbrain blind if she had to. She has taken on an entire goblin camp just to save that owlbear, and she saved an entire camp from an attack, all because that’s who she is. She wears her heart on her sleeve, but a fighter like that is as strong as they come. We have been traveling nonstop for days and fighting along the way; she’s burnt out, and the injury was no help. All she needs is rest, Astarion,” Gale said, turning to walk away. Stopping, he looked over his shoulder. “Out of both of us, she chose you to love, and as hurt and betrayed as I may feel, doesn’t that mean something? She’s not going easily, so go stay with her, hold her hand until she wakes,” he said before walking off to join the others.

---

After a lengthy conversation with Halsin, Astarion found himself kneeling next to you. He had successfully convinced Halsin to leave the tent, reassuring him that he would fetch him once you woke or if something went wrong. Holding your hand tightly, Astarion looked down at you, observing the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. You looked so peaceful, but he despised how quiet you were now. Much as he would never admit it to you, your bickering with Karlach and Shadowheart kept things interesting for him. The way you would joke around with Gale or Wyll, and even crack some horribly made jokes in an attempt to make Lae’zel smile, was something he adored about you. You were more than just a group-appointed leader; you were someone who brought joy into his miserable life. You were his best friend, his lifeline even.

Reaching down, Astarion brushed a strand of hair from your face with a sigh. Gale was right; you were burnt out. These past few weeks felt like endless fighting or traveling. You were always the first to jump to your group's aid in battle, and even when injured, you made sure to check on each and every one of them. He should have noticed just how off you seemed after your fight with Ketheric Thorm. You appeared drained, but he chalked it off as mere fatigue after battling a literal god. Although that was true, looking back, you had changed slightly afterward. You weren’t as quick to block attacks in fights, and you seemed slower when walking. Something about that fight took everything out of you, but Astarion, being Astarion, kept pushing everyone, including you, to reach the city. He was so desperate to reach the city that he became blind to how tired you were. Then the fight with Cazador happened. You had barely had time to react before his dagger found its way into your side, and it was all his fault. If he hadn’t pushed you and allowed everyone to rest, you wouldn’t be in this position right now, covered in sweat and fighting for your life.

Reaching down and gently squeezing your hand, he felt his frown deepen. “You know, Darling, this isn’t fair. You finally gave me something to care about, just for you to end up like this. I may not have a true beating heart, but sometimes you make me feel as if it is truly beating. I don’t know how you did it, but it’s truly terrifying, Darling,” he said quietly. It was true; this new feeling he had towards you terrified him. For two hundred years, he had never had someone he truly cared about, and he had never had someone show him as much love as you had.

Astarion hated confessing his feelings to you, terrified that he would lose you forever after admitting he was using you, especially when you were so gentle and honest with him. But you were never angry. Instead, you were understanding and supportive of his concerns. It was when he received his first hug from you, and later on that evening, his first kiss from someone real. You were so real to him, and he would burn down the entire city if it meant protecting the one real thing in his life.

Smoothing back your hair, he leans down, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the twitch of your hand or the change in your breathing. "Don’t tell me you’re getting all sentimental on me, Astarion. I would be the one thinking something happened to you," you grumble, keeping your eyes closed and relishing the feeling of his lips against your forehead. A strangled laugh escapes you at the way he tenses before pulling away.

As he looks down at you, you notice how his red orbs seem to glisten, on the verge of tears. Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze, and a small warm smile spreads across your lips. "How long—" "Long enough to hear just the tail end of what you said," you shrug, shifting to sit up. Astarion is quick to help you, turning his head as if he's about to yell something, and that's when it hits you. "Astarion, if you call Halsin in here right now, I will send a stake through you."

Astarion can't help but let out a surprised laugh at your words and the way your eyes narrow into a teasing glare. Reaching up, he caresses your cheek gently and nods. "Then Halsin can wait, but it doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you. You’re everything, Darling. I won’t let anything harm you ever again," he whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against yours gently.

Leaning your forehead against his, your smile only grows at his words. "Then I guess the feeling is mutual. I will protect you even if it means I have to kill Cazador and take a dagger to the side a million times over. For you, I’d do anything." With that, you press your lips to his in a silent promise. In other worlds, Astarion may be the one protecting you with everything he has, but in this one, you’d ruin yourself just to see his smile.

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (4)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, smut, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That evening she could not sleep; she felt anxious, felt that danger lurked all around her, the darkness in her chamber full of chill and tension. She pressed her lips together lying under the thick furs, recalling for the hundredth time the expression on her uncle's face when he recognised her.

Terror, disbelief, rage, disgust.

She knew that she would be facing him in the throne room the next day anyway, that they would be forced to remind each other of their existence.

She sighed quietly, wondering if her letters had reached him at all.

What if his grandfather or his mother simply did not deliver them to him?

What if his rage was because he thought she had abandoned him?

She felt a quick pounding of her heart, a naïve hope, anything she could grab onto in a situation that seemed to her to have no way out.

She thought she had to visit him, she had to see him, speak to him, end this once and for all, explain to him how she felt, how sorry she was that it had all happened this way.

Just like when she was a child, she slipped out of her chamber, walking ahead in the torchlight. She remembered what time the guards on watch at his quarters exchanged and took the opportunity, with her heart pounding fast, to knock on his door.

She swallowed loudly, horrified to hear the cold, sure, rough come in and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She turned and saw his silhouette sitting by the fire, in his hand the dagger he was skilfully playing with between his fingers, his gaze fixed on her, his eye wide open as if he was anticipating this visit.

She didn't know what she should say, where to begin.

She wasn't sure if she was trembling so much from the cold or from fear.

She tried to repeat to herself that even though he looked different, the same man was sitting in front of her, the one who had stroked her hair all night as a child, soothing her this way when she couldn't fall asleep.

Grasping at these memories she finally choked out what she had come for.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked in trembling voice, trying to sound soft and calm, to be the opposite of his aggressive attitude, to make him understand that she was coming in peace.

She shuddered when she saw the dangerous glint in his eye, the dagger in his hand spun around its own axis and curled between his fingers again, an involuntary grimace appeared on his face that resembled a smile but showed that he was furious.

"Yes." He answered finally, and she drew in a loud breath, analysing his answer quickly in her head.

He had received her letters, all of them.

She could see it in his face.

Did he despise them? Did he throw them away? Did he burn them?

"Have you read them?" She asked, wrinkling her eyebrows in helplessness, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of her life.

She saw him settle more comfortably in his chair, lifting his chin high as he stabbed the blade of his knife into the armrest, running it over it, making shivers run through her.

She had the feeling that he had just imagined himself ripping her flesh this way.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He muttered, and she felt a jolt of heat, of disbelief, of both humiliation and desire at the same time, because here he was, just admitting that he'd read her letters more than once, yet he'd never written her back.

She thought it was all a punishment he was inflicting on her – even though he wanted her words, his reply would have shown that he had forgiven her, that he was seeking reconciliation, that he was weak.

It all suddenly became so clear to her that she felt lighter, understanding that there was no moment in which she could do anything more to change his mind, that exactly what was supposed to happen had happened.

She looked around his chamber and moved ahead, noticing that where there had been a small cupboard of books now stood three large, tall, oak bookcases filled to the brim with thick tomes.

"Does your mother-whore know you're here?" She heard his cold, indifferent voice and pressed her lips together at the thought that he was doing it on purpose, that he was aware of what would hurt her, that he knew her too well.

She felt a squeeze in her throat when she spotted the familiar name of the philosopher among his collection and stepped closer, pulling out the book she had borrowed from him when she dared to kiss him for the first time.

"My, as you put it, mother-whore, never knew when I visited you, uncle. I was very determined not to be caught." She said lowly, in a way tired of the fact that she seemed to be speaking to stone, a cold marble to which nothing could reach.

She heard him snort, clearly displeased that his question did not elicit the effect he would have expected from her.

"Do you often visit men like this?" He asked perfunctorily, as if there was an answer in his question, as if it was obvious that she was not waiting for him.

Something in the way he said it, in the superiority in his voice made her feel rage; she moved towards his chair and stood in front of him, looking at him with furrowed brows.

Who was he to speak to her this way?

She saw that he lifted his gaze to her, surprised, apparently completely not expecting her to dare come so close to him, the hand with his dagger froze in mid-motion.

"Have you no shame?" She asked with regret and disapproval. She saw that his nostrils quivered dangerously, his healthy eye turned black, his lips pressed into a thin line.

She knew he was about to say something, something that would make her hate him, make her unable to look at him, and she decided that she would be the first to express her opinion, her suffering.

"I don't know who you are, the man who sits now before me, but if there is even a fragment of the boy I was meant to marry in you, let that boy know that he was and will be the only one in my heart. He was my beloved friend and I failed him. It is hard to live with the thought that someone you loved so deeply has died in a way, but there is neither a grave to pray over nor any hope of peace for his soul. What I fear is that the boy I knew has disappeared among the darkness and is dying in it every day."

She muttered, and although she tried to hold them back, tears of helplessness and despair ran down her cheeks as the last sentence left her lips.

She had lost him, lost him forever, this boy who had soothed her fears, who she had looked up to with such pride and joy, who would never speak to her as this man did now.

It seemed to her that she had put him into a state of complete shock, as he looked at her with his mouth parted, his healthy eye wide open – he was breathing faster, completely frozen, as if he didn't know what to make of her words.

She couldn't believe how much he had changed, his white hair long and beautiful, partly tied back, his scar pale, hidden under a black eye patch, his jaw even more sharply defined, his chin pointed, his healthy eye gleamed in the firelight, his leather tunic and breeches framing his well-built body.

He was a handsome man.

She thought about Daemon's words, about how it was better to rip her heart out than to humiliate herself, but she thought she was unable to do that.

That she needed to feel his closeness this one last time.

It seemed to her that her body threw itself towards him on its own, climbing into his lap, pressing her face and hands against his tunic, his familiar warmth, his scent filled her nostrils.

She heard his dagger slide out of his hand straight onto the stone floor with the loud clang of steel.

For some reason, her body relaxed completely and she burst into sobs, as if those years of suffering and separation had poured out of her like a river; she began to babble and apologise to this little boy who certainly felt alone, who couldn't cope with what had happened and with what he had lost.

She shuddered and hopped up, feeling something hard throb between her thighs, then again and again – she looked at him in disbelief, his gaze terrified, his breath heavy.

She thought she was going to hear him say that she should leave, that she was humiliating herself, that he didn't want to know her, that she was pathetic, but he just stared at her, apparently unable to get a word out.

She looked at his lips – they seemed even fuller and softer to her than they were then and she wondered if they would be as pleasurable if she touched them.

Just this once.

"– can I kiss you? –" She asked so quietly that she herself barely heard the words leave her lips. She saw his pupil narrow, his nostrils twitching restlessly.

She felt a throbbing inside her, as well as in his breeches beneath her when he leaned in slightly, exactly as he had done then, wordlessly involuntarily betraying his will and she threw her hands over his shoulders, pressing her warm, thirsty lips to his in a sweet, loud kiss.

It seemed to her that their bodies were moving on their own, his hips rubbing his twitching erection against her from underneath making her feel something like warm tickling between her thighs.

One, slow, tentative kiss turned into a second, a third and a fourth, his hands suddenly on her body, clamping down on her hips and neck as if he wanted to make sure she didn't leave his side.

She shuddered, looking down at him with slightly parted lips, suppressing a moan when she felt his free hand slip shamelessly under the material of her nightgown and clamp down on her naked buttock, rubbing his hardness against her hidden womanhood with slow, uncertain rocking of his hips.

No one had ever touched her like this before, and she wondered if this was his first time, or if perhaps he had already tasted another woman's body, sinking inside the ladies of the court or the servants.

She felt an overpowering jealousy and pain at the thought, at the thought that he might have desired and taken another, and she thought that this night he would desire only her.

That she would spend the night with him and then leave, surrendering her fate to destiny.

"− uncle −" She mumbled, responding with movements of her hips to his treatments, feeling her insides begin to swell once she had decided what was going to happen.

He waved his hand into her hair and kissed her, greedily, aggressively, quickly, his slick tongue forced it's way deep into her throat.

It had nothing to do with what they had done as children – now their lips teased each other with a loud click of their saliva, his tongue trailing over her palate, licking her encouragingly, inviting her to let their tips touch.

They licked each other like this, panting and moaning into each other's mouths – she let him push her hips closer to him, rubbing his hard cock against her with increasingly intrusive, shameless movements as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his body.

Gods, he wanted this.

She shuddered when she felt his hand pull at the ties of her nightgown, in slow, gentle movement slipping it off her shoulders. He pulled away, panting loudly, to look at the sight of her bare chest, her plump little breasts; she gasped quietly and trembled when his fingers timidly run and squeezed one of them.

She felt something sticky run down her thighs onto the material of his breeches, felt the moisture between her legs.

"− uh − it tickles − here −" She mumbled helplessly, stroking his jaw with her thumb, not knowing completely what she should do next, somehow asking him to spare her the humiliation and take the initiative. She shuddered as his fingers ran over her lust-swollen, puffy lips.

"− it's understandable − you missed your uncle − hm? −" He asked softly, tenderly, startling her completely – she felt the muscles inside her clench around nothing at his words, the tension in her lower abdomen was unbearable.

She didn't know when he took her in his arms and stood up with her, when he laid her down on his bed; she watched as he took off his tunic, commanding her to lie on her back, and she obeyed him.

She squirmed in horror as he suddenly grabbed her thighs and spread them in front of him, lifting the material of her nightgown up, leaning his face between them.

"− Aemond − s-stop, uncle, what are you −" She mumbled in a trembling voice, trying to push him away, to protect herself; she tilted her head back with a sweet, surprised moan when she felt his rough tongue run over her puffy folds, licking what was leaking out of her.

"− o-oh, gods −" She mewled losing immediately the urge to interrupt him, laying obediently on her back and clasping her hands in his wonderfully soft white hair, pushing against him with her hips, listening to the sounds of sucking and licking, whimpering in front of him like a whore, understanding that it was obvious that he wanted to give her pleasure, that he wanted to satisfy her.

"− have you touched yourself here? −" He huffed with some kind of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had been dreaming of this moment all his life, of her at his mercy, with her thighs spread wide shamelessly in front of his face.

She swallowed loudly at the memory of the night she had sunk her hand into her heat seeking fulfilment, thinking of him, the way he looked now, the way he still desired her, and helplessly nodded her head.

She knew he would recognise immediately if she lied.

She heard him murmur with satisfaction at this information, as if he was perfectly aware, looking at what was happening to her now, who she was thinking of at the time.

She moaned in pleasure as his nose ran over her puffy bud hidden between her soft folds; she clenched her hands in his hair trying to push him away as he tightened his lips around it, licking and sucking it, making it almost painful. His hand reached for her mouth to silence her, but she clamped her fingers on his wrist, stopping him.

"− please, uncle, too much − too much −" She cried out pleadingly, trying to pull away from him, and breathed a sigh of relief when he released her from between his lips, looking at her in shock, apparently writing down in his mind that this place was extremely sensitive and delicate.

He hummed under his breath, returning to his earlier caresses, tentatively and slowly sliding his tongue into her tight, hot interior. She threw her head back, surprised at how pleasurable it was, her walls throbbing and clenching like crazy around nothing as he licked her shamelessly with a quiet, lewd clicks of his saliva and her moisture.

"− uncle − mghmm −" She babbled desperately, feeling something approaching, the tension and tickling in her lower abdomen unbearable, her hips rocking to the motion of his mouth.

She prayed shamelessly to the gods that he would just keep going.

"− it'll be wonderful to feel it clench around my fat cock one day − don't you think, sweet niece? −" He murmured between the flicks of his tongue, and she felt his words do something to her; she raised herself up on her elbow throwing her head back, feeling the wonderful, throbbing pleasure spill over her body in waves. She moaned some words, probably his name, feeling stunned and hot with fulfilment, her thighs trembling in his hands.

She fell on his cold bed, panting heavily, begging him to stop, but he made sure to lick her dry, as if he took unspeakable pleasure in her state and pleas.

He rose at last, breathing loudly, wiping his face, his eye wide open as if he couldn't believe what had just happened, with a quick, desperate movement he untied his breeches.

"Touch me." He muttered grabbing her hand; she squealed quietly when she saw for the first time what the erection of a man looked like. He tightened her fingers around its thick root, the tip of it pink and glistening, dripping from his own juices.

She breathed loudly, squeezing it with the kind of movements he was forcing on her with his palm, up and down, feeling it pulsing and twitching in her grasp, that it was swelling more and more, his breath erratic and heavy, full of desire.

"− fuck − fuck, come here −" He breathed out, grabbing her by her hair, pressing her lips to his in an aggressive, frantic, sticky kiss, tasting her own wetness on his palate, his hips rocking aggressively to the rhythm of her hand.

"− don't fucking stop − faster − fuck-fuck-fuck −" He hissed and groaned helplessly with some kind of immense relief, clenching his eye, his lips parted in pleasure; she squealed when she felt something wet spill out of him onto her nightgown, startling her completely.

He leaned in to kiss her, to reassure her.

"− easy, it's just me − shhh −" He whispered between one lazy, moist kiss of their lips and another, releasing her at last, her hand all sticky with his warm spend.

He ordered that nothing was to be wasted and that she was to lick it off, so she did so without a word of objection.

His seed was slightly salty and smelled like nothing she had felt before.

Like sin.

He watched her every move with satisfaction.

"− you are going to spend the night with me −" He commanded, and she nodded, not having the strength to oppose him or think about the consequences.

She didn't care.

"Mmm." He hummed contentedly, sighing quietly, pulling her by her arm along with him, laying down on his back, letting her embrace him.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she hugged her face to his chest, to where his heart was – his fingers began to stroke her hair, just as they had then, years ago.

He knew she loved it.

They lay in silence for a long time, their silhouettes surrounded only by the warm light of the fire burning in the distance.

"– I missed you –" She whispered at last and heard his hand freeze in stillness.

She was frightened that she had frustrated him and felt relieved when, a moment later, he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, stroking her further with his warm palm.

It took a long time before he said anything, as if he needed to think it all over, to put it all back together in his head.

"Do you still wish to marry me?" He asked at last, apparently assuming that what the others were planning didn't matter and that he had to have a good understanding of what had happened between them, whether they wanted the same thing.

She lifted her head, looking at him already without fear – even though his gaze was cold and his face stern, she already knew what lurked underneath, that if he had built a wall around himself as a child, it was now a giant fortress separating him from everyone else that could not be taken by storm.

What they had done didn't change the fact that they still didn't know if they could trust each other.

"Yes." She whispered, tracing her fingers over the area underneath where his heart was beating. He looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to make sure she was telling the truth, and then he grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a warm, lingering kiss on it.

"− you have such big hands −" She whispered, looking in awe at the clearly defined lines of his veins. The inside of his palm was rough – she thought it was the fault of his daily holding of the sword.

"− they're not as delicate as yours − your skin feels like it's made of silk −" He murmured with some kind of admiration, gazing at the innocent play of their fingers brushing against each other in the air.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, the elation and pain, thinking of all the years she had dreamed of him coming back for her, of telling her that he still loved her. She felt involuntarily tears under her eyelids and pressed her lips together, trying to hold them back, however to no avail.

They flowed down her cheeks one by one, and she felt her chest begin to vibrate as did her breathing. He glanced at her, hearing this and they looked at each other for a moment in silence.

He lifted his free hand and with a slow, tender movement of his thumb rubbed the moisture from her warm skin.

"Don't cry. Come here." He said lowly, grabbing her waist and pulling her close, his hand slipped into her hair hiding her face in the hollow of his neck, her bare breasts pressed against his chest.

She breathed quietly, focusing on his wonderful, familiar scent and the embrace in which, even though she shouldn't, she felt safe.

It seemed so right.

"Tomorrow, Luke will lose his rights to Driftmark. Justice will be done, and I will announce that our betrothal was never officially called off. We will marry in the tradition of our ancestors, ending at last these years of misery." He said calmly, as if he thought it was the only sensible thing to do – his hand trailed involuntarily through her hair and down her bare shoulder, but his mind was far from her.

She swallowed loudly and tensed all over hearing his words, words concerning her younger brother's inheritance which, after all, Corlys had passed on to him, obviously aware that they bore his name but were not of his blood.

He felt her hesitation immediately and began to breathe louder, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her arm.

"Say something." He muttered in an anxious, trembling voice, but she didn't know what she was supposed to answer, her heart pounding like mad, tears welling up again in the corners of her eyes.

She thought with horror that she had made the mistake of assuming that the fact that he could forgive her meant that he could also forgive Luke.

She had noticed it then, in the courtyard, seeing the way he looked at her brother, but she preferred to push it deep into her consciousness, to pretend that it would all be easily resolved, that they would live together in peace and prosperity.

"What will you do if he doesn't lose his rights to Driftmark?" She asked quietly, feeling her voice tremble with every word she spoke.

This time it was his body that tensed all over; she heard him draw in air loudly, his heart pounding like mad under her hand.

"Is your mother-whore plotting something again? Hm?" He growled, gripping her cheeks painfully tight in his hand, forcing her to look at him in a sharp, aggressive motion.

She felt that familiar terror again, fear at the sight of madness, darkness and hatred lurking in his gaze.

"– n-no, I swear –" She whimpered with difficulty. She saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils quivering restlessly in a quick, laboured breath, his eye opened wide.

"Is she the one who sent you to me? To soften me up, to fucking distract me, to divert my attention?" He hissed with growing anger and a note of desperation, a sense of betrayal that escaped his throat as his fingers dug warningly into her skin.

She thought he had completely lost his mind.

Seeing her state, the way she said the words, his grip on her face softened, his thumb ran tenderly over her soft, tear-wet skin.

"– no, Aemond, she wants me to marry someone else, she doesn't know I'm here –" She cried helplessly, recognising that he could do whatever he wanted with her, beat her or kill her.

Nothing could change the fact that she was heartbroken.

"No. No, don't cry. Don't cry, my love. Don't cry." He whispered drawing her to him again and she burst out into loud sobs, seeking comfort in his arms; he kissed the top of her head again and again repeating that he believed her, that he just had to be sure.

Whatever would happen, the boy she knew had never been violent towards her.

"I would never hurt you." He whispered, and her words burst out of her mouth before she had time to think them through, full of pain and disappointment.

"You have done it now and you will do it again." She muttered lifting herself up, putting the sleeves of her nightgown over her breasts, wanting to lift herself off his bed. His hand clamped on her arm stopped her – he raised himself up on his elbow with her, however this time he was careful with how much force he used.

"No. I didn't mean to. Gods, I swear." He muttered, gripping her cheek in his palm, clearly wanting her to look at him, but she shook her head.

"You desire me, but you're not in love with me. You abhor me and whenever you forget that I can give you pleasure, you will hurt me." She choked out between sobs, getting up from his bed; he got up behind her, catching her waist, hugging her back.

She felt his warm, shaky breath on her skin, his hands quivering, his face pressed against her neck.

How could she be so blind, to think that after all this time he would look upon her as an equal?

"I have waited for you for so many years. Don't leave, it won't happen again." He muttered in a trembling, pleading voice.

She knew it was a lie, that he was desperate now, that if only he could be sure she wouldn't escape him, he would do whatever he wanted with her.

"You're right to think I was never worthy of you. Forgive me that you had to endure such humiliation because of me for so many years." She choked out in pain, pulling herself out of his embrace, walking out of his chamber, startling his guards, not caring if they told the Queen of her visit or not.

She returned to her quarters and threw herself on her bed, quivering and sobbing with despair breaking her heart, realising with pain that there was never any hope for them.

He did not love her.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes