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imaginespazzi · 30 days

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Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9

Your mouth is poison (your mouth is wine)

(In which an all over the place writer, writes something that's a little bit all over the place)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy,

Words: 9.0K

TW: Swearing, a little bit of violence, mentions of blood, men being men

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Unfortunately, as I've been warning y'all for a while, the deadline did finally slip through my fingers. However I'm hoping y'all will forgive me for it because I am only one day late and this chapter is quite long. I do wanna warn y'all in advance that there won't be a chapter next week because I am going on vacation and my laptop is staying very, very far away from me. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing but I'm hoping y'all will enjoy it anyways. I did actually edit this time but who knows how successful that was, so please let me know about typos/mistakes. As always, feel free to tell me about what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your weeks my loves <3

August 2025

Azzi Fudd is a spectacular liar. She excels at keeping up a façade of yes everything is perfectly fine in front of her friends and family. She’s quite good at tricking people she can barely stand into thinking oh yes i’m totally enjoying this conversation. But the person Azzi lies the most to, is without a doubt herself. As she steps out of the car into the hot Indiana air, bustling with noises from the growing crowd inside, Azzi internally repeats a lie to herself again: she did not show up to all-star weekend for a glimpse of her ex girlfriend. She’s here, as per Colleen’s managerial advice, to build connections, to further her career and to expand on opportunities in the basketball world. The fact that Paige Bueckers, who Azzi hasn’t seen in three months -the longest period of time they’d spent apart since she’d started at UConn- is definitely also going to be attending tonight’s party, is merely a happenstance.

Taking a deep breath, Azzi puts one kitten heeled foot in front of the other, trying to ignore her heightened nerves. This isn’t her preferred scene by any means. She’d much rather be back in her hotel room, curled on her couch with a book and a pint of ice cream. It’s not that Azzi doesn’t like parties; she has her fair share of fun at Ted’s, but it’s the unfamiliarity of the environment and the lack of that once ever present comforting hand that used to tap out i’m here for you against the back of her own at big events like these, that has her yearning to crawl back into the car and hide away.

“Azzi?” a familiar voice calls from behind her and Azzi lets out a sigh of relief as she sees Aaliyah walking towards her with a large welcoming grin, “Azeray!”

“Li-Li. Thank god you’re here,” Azzi reaches up to hug her former teammate, mentally thanking whatever god was looking out for her. She’d dreaded walking in by herself and now she wouldn’t have to. Really she probably should probably send Coach a ‘thank you’ text for having so many alumni in the league that there was bound to be a Husky she could attach herself to for the night.

“I’m glad to see you too Az,” Aaliyah says, pulling away and looking at Azzi with a semi-concerned look, “but you seem a little extra relieved to see me? You good dude?”

“Just- just a little nervous,” Azzi admits, shuffling her feet uneasily.

Realization dawns on Aaliyah’s face, “cause of Paige?”

“No you know I don’t like big unfamiliar places,” Azzi sighs when Aaliayh gives her a pointed look, “but I guess maybe- maybe a little cause of Paige.”

The Mystics forward shakes her head before linking her arms through Azzi’s, “I swear, I leave y’all for one year and everything implodes-," she bites her tongue, "shit was that insensitive?”

“No,” Azzi grimaces, “that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”

Something hard coils in her stomach at Aaliyah’s words. The truth is they’d been fine. Better than fine even. And then suddenly Azzi was lighting a box of matches she hadn’t even known she was holding and her whole world was on fire; an implosion of everything Azzi had once thought inflammable. She’d burned her hands trying to rescue them and all she has to show for it are invisible red hot pustules that refuse to heal. But perhaps, she thinks, that’s what a pyromaniac like her had deserved.

Azzi cowers under the flashing lights of the cameras, clinging tighter to Aaliyah’s arm as the two of them make their way onto the orange carpet, the cameramen immediately swinging their devices to capture the college basketball player more than likely to be the number one pick in next year’s WNBA draft. She feels herself tense under their piercing gaze, anchored only by Aaliyah's strong and steady presence next to her. And as they pose for the cameras, she’s thankful for her former teammate’s company but she can’t shake the feeling that it should have been someone else.

“And look who we have here,” Lexie Brown says excitedly as the two of them approach the interviewer, “y’all Huskies clean up nice.”

“We try, we try,” Aaliyah answers charismatically, doing a little hair flip to match her tone.

“Aaliyah, it's your first all-star nod, how are you feeling?”

“I feel great, you know it’s always good to see yourself being acknowledged and being an all-star has always been a goal of mine. So, I hope it’s the first of many and I’m just hoping my team gets the W tomorrow,” Aaliyah answers diplomatically.

Lexie turns to Azzi, “I bet you’re really proud of her. I mean you’ve got a couple of teammates who are first-time all stars between Aaliyah and Paige. You’ve gotta be feeling pretty proud of them”

“Y-yeah I mean,” Azzi clears her throat, trying not to flinch at the mention of Paige’s name, “It’s been- it’s been really exciting to watch them and I’m extremely proud-”

She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises. Not when she has a whole separate sensory system that flares up just for her. Azzi’s skin prickles as she registers the sound of familiar peals of laughter echoing from the orange carpet. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing herself not to turn around.

“Speak of the devil,” Lexie says goodnaturedly, getting her hand ready to beckon the blonde over and Azzi feels panic suffocate her lungs, not quite ready to face Paige yet.

“Oh I don’t think-” Aaliyah tries to cut in, glancing worriedly at her friend but it’s too late.

“Paige,” Lexie calls out, beaming over Azzi’s head at the Dallas Wings’ newest star point guard.

The world seems to move in slow motion as Azzi feels Paige getting closer and closer to her. She smells the faint scent of fresh mint weaved with a hint of citrus first. Then she hears the sound of Paige’s breathing, perfectly even to anybody else but Azzi can hear the staggered harshness hidden beneath it. And as the blonde passes over her to settle on Lexi’s other side, she feels Paige’s arm brush against her own and it hurts to breathe. The contact lasts for a second but Azzi swears it’ll last forever, tattooing itself on her bicep as a wretched reminder of a touch she’s no longer allowed to crave.

It’s funny, there’s a hurricane swirling between them and Paige can barely look at Azzi, keeping her eyes firmly on Lexie and Aaliyah as she greets the trio. And yet, there’s a sense of calm -of peace- that seems to wash over Azzi just by having Paige near her again. The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance i’ll make it all okay.

Despite the hectic transition from a full college season to a frantic W season, Paige looks ethereal as always. Her two piece cropped vest top and straight fitted pants match the color of her eyes and a silver chain dangles across her chest. Two strands of blonde hair hide her signature diamond studs, the rest of it pulled back into a slightly messy bun. Azzi gulps at the way the vest top parts right above her midriff, Paige’s toned abs playing peek-a-boo behind it. She lets her eyes roam over Paige’s exposed arms, trying to ignore memories of how they used to go taut under her touch, down to the blonde’s bare fingers and she feels her heart constrict. No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months.

“Azzi,” Aaliyah hisses and Azzi snaps out of her thoughts, realizing she’d been asked a question.

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, moving a strand of her hair out of her face; Paige’s eyes intently following the movement, “what was the question.”

Lexie smiles, “I was just asking about your thoughts on Paige’s amazing rookie year so far?”

“Oh um-” Azzi hesitates, shivers inching up her spine as she feels Paige drinking in the sight of the her body like she's a woman parched, “I’m just-” their eyes lock with each other’s and everything else seems to vanish until it feels like it’s just the two of them floating in between remnants of what they used to be, “I’m just really proud of her. I always knew she’d be amazing. She’s just doing what she always does. Being the best player she can be. So yeah I’m just- I’m just really proud of her.”

And Azzi doesn’t know how they got to this point where Paige seems almost shocked that Azzi could be proud of her, to this point where there’s droplets threatening to spill over both of their water lines and they no longer have the right to wipe each other’s tears away.

“Aww,” Lexie coos, oblivious to the tension, “well on that sweet note, off y’all go and we’ll see y’all later.”

The walk into the party is kept alive with Aaliyah’s attempt at keeping a conversation going. While Paige tries to at least entertain some of, Azzi finds herself completely zoning out until they finally make their way inside into the cacophony of music and laughter.

“Y’all wanna get-” Aaliyah begins.

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

She gives Aaliyah a tentative grin but barely looks at Azzi as she practically trips over her pant-sleeves trying to get away. It feels like something’s biting against her skin, sharp teeth indenting you did this to yourself as Azzi watches Paige walk away. She watches as the tension slowly leaves the blonde’s muscles as she’s pulled into a hug by Jewell and then by Téa. The fake smile that she’d politely kept on her face the last couple of minutes for the sake of the cameras and reporters is replaced by something far more genuine. Azzi watches as Paige is absorbed into the warmth of the growing crowd, embraced by a league that adores her, and she feels the ice cold pinch of she belongs somewhere without you now start to freeze her own heart.

***

Azzi’s doing fine. She’s gotten through the night with Aaliyah by her side, making small talk with a bunch of different players and she’s managed to keep a friendly smile the whole time. She’d even danced for a little bit, letting loose with some of the other college basketball players that had made the trip to Indianapolis. Sure, she’d occasionally been distracted by her eyes flickering over to the bar and finding a new pretty influencer batting their fake eyelashes at Paige but really she’s doing fine. Her head’s a little dizzy and maybe the third shot of tequila, influenced by a one leggy brunette that had gotten a little too handsy, wasn’t her brightest decision of the night but really, Azzi’s doing fine.

Until she’s not.

And it’s Paige's fault. She had to know that it would be Azzi’s last straw. She had to know that Azzi could live with watching a thousand girls flirt with Paige as long as the blonde in question stood rigidly by the bar doing nothing but smiling politely at them. She had to know that Azzi, after having spent most of their college life watching girls fawn over her girlfriend, could deal with the flirty hands that lingered just a little too long on Paige’s bicep. But it’s when Paige leans into this one girl -whose dark curls and tanned caramel skin are just a little too reminiscent of her own- when Paige’s lips graze just a little to close this one girl’s ear, that Azzi realizes she’s decidedly not fine.

“I need some air,” she manages to bite out, ignoring Aaliyah’s concerned look as she marches out the back door, heading towards the deck.

Azzi buries her face in her hands as she leans back against the brick wall. She knows she’s being unfair; knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way but something burns within her anyways and the light breeze does nothing to cool it down.

“I’m not cheating on you,” a harsh voice interrupts her pity party and Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Paige’s voice is laced with accusation, “because the way you just stormed out says otherwise.”

Azzi continues to keep her head in her palms, refusing to look at the blonde, “it’s hot and stuffy in there. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying,” Paige spits out.

“Well what do you want me to say instead?” Azzi finally looks up, her even cadence in stark contrast to Paige’s fiery tone, “I know we’re not together-”

“Because that’s what you wanted-”

“I know,” Azzi yells, and then quieter, “I know. I know I- I know I did this. But that- that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else,” she swallows, “doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Paige scoffs, rubbing her face as she begins to pace, “you miss me? I was at Mohegan when y’all had summer camp. The whole team showed up to the game except for you and you want me to believe that you miss me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there,” Azzi confesses in a whisper, “you were so mad at me after-after everything- and I just- I didn’t want to ruin coming back to Connecticut for you.”

“For me,” Paige lets out a laugh devoid of any emotion, “god Azzi there you go again with this fake ‘selfless’ bullshit.”

A thousand and one retorts die on the tip of Azzi’s tongue as she shakes her head and pushes herself off the wall. She can smell the alcohol on Paige, can tell the blonde is itching for an argument but all she feels is pure exhaustion.

“I don’t wanna fight Paige. I’m tired and I just-” she bites her lip, fighting the urge to caress Paige’s cheek, “believe it or don’t but- I really do miss you.”

Sparks of electricity dance their way through Azzi’s veins when Paige curls a hand around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks from going inside. And suddenly she doesn’t feel so cold anymore.

“Dance with me,” Paige whispers.

“What?”

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

“What are we pretending?” Azzi asks quietly and despite the warnings ringing in her head, she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. It feels like coming home.

“We’re pretending that we’re okay,” Paige says softly, holding Azzi’s hips as she begins to sway them gently, “we’re pretending that three months ago you said yes.”

“Paige-”

“Close your eyes Azzi,” the blond waves her hand gently across Azzi’s face, willing both of their eyelids to flutter shut, “we’re pretending that we’re not here- we’re in Minnesota or DC or I don’t know just- anywhere. And our families are here, laughing and talking and some sappy romantic song is playing. It's the best day of our lives and we’re both- we're both dressed in white-”

“Paige,” Azzi lets out a sob, as she begins to understand the picture Paige is painting for them; a picture drawn on a canvas that Azzi had torn up before any color could touch it

“Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Azzi would fight Paige’s tightening grip. If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Paige would let go. Instead Azzi lets Paige play pretend, lets them keep their bodies pressed against each other, moving from side to side in rhythm with the wind.

It isn’t until she hears footsteps approaching them that Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face. They’re both quick to swap their tears for smiles that don’t reach their eyes as they turn to face the intruders. And Azzi wonders if Paige wishes she’d drank a little bit more too. Because maybe if they were both just a little more drunk, then tomorrow they wouldn’t have to remember just how right it had felt to play pretend tonight.

April 2033

“You look so pretty Mama,” Stephie gushes from where she’s perched on the bed as she watches Azzi put the finishing touches to her makeup

“Thanks baby,” Azzi smiles, blowing a kiss in the mirror.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie flips the running facetime call, skipping over to her mother with the phone in her hand, “doesn’t Mama look beautiful?”

Sixteen years later, and maybe it’s because of all the time they’d missed in between, but Azzi can’t help the bout of shyness that flushes across her features when Stephie places the phone, Paige’s face illuminated all over it, against the mirror so the blonde can get a proper look at Azzi’s outfit.

“You look-” Paige clears her throat, eyes dilated as they rake over Azzi’s whole body, “you look phenomenal.”

“Big word Bueckers,” Azzi teases, trying to disguise her blush, “did you just learn it?”

Paige rolls her eyes, “can’t even give you a compliment without an insult Fudd.”

“You guys argue too much,” Stephie says exasperatedly, shaking her head at the two adults who laugh. The younger girl sometimes seems far wise beyond her age.

“We’re not arguing Stephie, we’re just-” Azzi struggles to think of a word.

“Foreplaying,” Paige mutters under her breath and Azzi immediately glares at her.

“Paige!”

Stephie scrunches up her nose at the screen, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Azzi says shrilly, “Miss Buecks is just making up words.”

“Why would Miss Buecks do that?” Stephie asks, looking back and forth between her mother and the screen.

“Why does Miss Buecks do anything,” Azzi babbles, as she begins to usher Stephie out of her room, “go grab your things Stephie-bean. Mama’s almost ready to drop you off at Nana and Pop’s house.”

Stephie pouts, “I wanna go to the party with you and Miss Buecks. It’s no fair you both get to go and I don’t,” she picks up the phone, looking at Paige with wide guilt-tripping eyes, “don’t you love me Miss Buecks?”

Azzi has to hand it to her daughter. She’s a smart one to choose Paige as the victim of her emotional blackmail, knowing her wiles had long stopped working on her mother.

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

Stephie smiles and Azzi shakes her head at how quickly the five-year old’s plan had worked, “you’ll take me to the park and then we’ll get fries and then get ice cream?”

“That’s a lot of junk food Steph-”

“Ssshh Mama,” Stephie chides, “this is between me and Miss Buecks.”

“The park, then fries, then ice cream it is,” Paige concedes and Azzi rolls her eyes.

Stephie grins brightly, puckering her lips to kiss Paige through the phone and eliciting a laugh from the older woman when she cheers, “you’re the best-est-est Miss Buecks. See you in a little bit. Don’t hang up without saying goodnight.”

“I promise I won’t,” Paige calls out after the little girl as Stepehie hands the phone back to Azzi and starts skipping towards her room.

Azzi gives the blonde a look, “we have got to have a conversation about you learning to say no to her.”

Paige shrugs unhelpfully, “I don’t want to learn how to say no to her.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Azzi remarks, hands on hips, “and foreplay? Seriously? Us bickering is not foreplay.”

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it.

“You say the most romantic things to me Paige Bueckers.”

They’re both quiet for a second as Azzi moves around her room, collecting her wallet and keys and to put into her purse.

“You know there’s still time for me to come pick you up,” Paige says finally.

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, not wanting a rerun of the same argument they’ve been having for the last week. She knows it’s a touchy subject for Paige; that it veers a little too close to insecurities that stem from their past but she’s not quite ready to take this step yet. There isn’t quite any rhyme or reason to her logic except well, she’s haunted by memories of the last time they’d let the personal mix with the professional. Her phone still holds invitations to countless team reunions that she’d actively avoided and a group chat that she’s long muted. Azzi hasn’t stepped foot in the state of Connecticut since she’d entered the draft; she refuses to lose California too.

“Teammates can carpool,” Paige explains vehemently, “it’s easily explainable.’

“I know-”

“Is this about Clémence?” bitterness tinges the edge of Paige’s voice as she chews her bottom lip. And there it is, the other subject they’d been tip-toeing around since it had been brought up at breakfast a week ago. Paige and Azzi are both excellent at avoiding talking about the harder topics but they’ve never quite managed to let anything go forever.

“Why would this be about Clémence?”

Paige narrows her eyes, sitting up from where she’d previously been lounging against her pillow, “maybe you don’t want her to see us together? Maybe you’re trying to spare her feelings I don’t know.”

“Paige-”

“You know what it’s fine,” Paige huffs, “I’ll see you at the bar Azzi.”

She hangs up before Azzi can say anything and the brunette lets out a litany of curses under her breath, annoyed with Paige’s ability to go from A to Z by skipping everything in between. There’s a part of her that knows Paige deserves an explanation about Clémence, a chance to have her lingering doubts confirmed or denied, but amidst the egoistic thoughts of well she married someone else and the self preservationist urge to prevent a potential fight, she hadn’t been brave enough to approach the topic just quite yet. Azzi’s about to step out of the room, when her phone pings with a facetime call from Paige again.

“Are you calling to apologize for hanging up?” Azzi asks with a frown.

“No,” Paige replies stubbornly, “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.”

Something wonderful and warm blooms in Azzi’s chest as she silently walks over to Stephie’s room. This is a new chapter in Paige’s storybook that she’s slowly beginning to read; one scribbled with the blonde’s devotion to Azzi’s baby girl. Azzi still has every other chapter memorized; had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the words within the one that had been dedicated to her. But she’d been wrong. Because every day that she watches Paige and Stephie fall more and more in love with each other, she finds herself falling in love with how much they love each other.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, practically snatching the phone from her mother’s hand as she goofily grins at the screen, “you didn’t hang up.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Paige says, the hardness that had existed in her voice while talking to Azzi, dissolving into adulation, “you be good for Nana and Pops okay?”

“I’m always good,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “can you come over really, really, early tomorrow?”

Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” Stephie claps contentedly as she grabs Azzi’s hand to start walking towards the car, “good night Miss Buecks.”

“Good night Stephie-bean,” Paige echoes, blowing a kiss through the screen.

“Paige,” Azzi says urgently, trying to stop the older woman from hanging up, “can you just hold on a second while I buckle Stephie in.”

“Az-”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s gaze as she sulks.

Azzi lifts Stephie onto the car seat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, before she closes the car door and uses it as a stabilizing structure to lean on as she pulls her phone back in front of her.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi,” Paige says back begrudgingly, “you wanted to say something?”

“I-” Azzi swallows, “don’t go the bar-”

“Oh fantastic,” Paige cuts her off, her voice furious as she glares daggers at Azzi through the phone, “not only do you not want to go to the bar together, you don’t want me to go at all. Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

“Yet,” Azzi says loudly, trying to speak over Paige’s angry rant, “don’t go to the bar yet.”

“What?”

Azzi licks her lips, “don’t go yet. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents-”

“What does that have to-”

“Will you just let me fucking finish?” Azzi almost bangs her fist on the car in frustration and she’s glad to see that it makes Paige look just a little bit sheepish, “as I was saying. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents and uh- your house- it’s um- it’s on the way to the bar so I thought,” she shrugs with fake nonchalance, the edge of her mouth turning upwards, “I thought maybe- maybe I could pick you up on the way.”

Paige stares blankly at the screen, eyes blinking as Azzi’s words slowly register, “you- you wanna go to the bar together?”

“I didn’t say that,” Azzi teases, eyes twinkling as she basks in the thrill of eliciting that Azzi smile from Paige’s lips, “teammates carpool right?”

“Teammates definitely carpool.”

April 2029

“You invited Clémence to our movie night?” Jana asks in a whisper, as she walks into the kitchen where Azzi’s making popcorn. Her Saturday nights have gotten rather boring since she’s had Stephie, consisting of alternating between movie nights with Jana and dinner with her parents. It wasn’t the most thrilling of times but she looked forward to them all week, excited to not have to spend a night in solitude.

“She asked what I was doing tonight and I told her we were having a movie night and then she asked if she could join and well I couldn’t just say no,” Azzi explains, sticking the bag into the microwave.

Jana cocks an eyebrow, “do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Azzi asks, crinkling her nose as she juts out an ear just in case the baby monitor goes off.

“C’mon Az,” Jana says pointedly, leaning on her elbows against the kitchen counter, “you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Azzi grimaces uneasily, not quite wanting to answer the question, “nothing that would require you to leave.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Jana relents, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way back to the living room, before she pauses in the doorway to look back at Azzi, “but I know what it looks like when somebody’s in love with you. And that girl out there,” she nods her head towards where Clémence is daintily sitting on the couch, “she’s definitely getting there.”

Jana’s a rather observant person but Azzi knows that she’s at least a little bit wrong this time. Because Clémence might be a little bit in love with -even if that’s not a fact Azzi particularly wants to acknowledge- but it's impossible for her to look at Azzi the way Jana remembers someone else looking at her. That had been something completely different; a gaze that saw all the little chinks in her armor, all the imperfections carved against her walls and loved her inspite of them, maybe even because of them. Clémence might love her, but Azzi doesn’t think anyone can be in love with her the way the person she’d been hopelessly in love with, had.

When she walks back into the living room with the popcorn in hand, still plagued by her younger teammate’s words, Azzi’s deliberate to sit on the couch next to Jana instead of the open space next to the francophone. The flash of hurt in Clémence’s eye causes guilt to trickle down her spine but Azzi thinks a flash is better than the tsunami of pain she could cause if she doesn’t start to ease herself out of this right now. There’s a selfish part of her that doesn’t want to, that’s going to miss having somebody who hangs onto her every word. Azzi likes this feeling of being wanted, even if it’s not by the person she wants. But that person isn’t hers to want anymore and she won’t torture Clémence by barricading her in the same jail that has held Azzi’s soul captive for the last four years.

They’re about half way through the movie, awkward tension eased by Jana’s incessant chatter, when Azzi’s phone buzzes. Already confused at the timing of the call, she’s even more perplexed to see Ice’s name flashing on the screen.

“Oooh Iceyyy,” Jana’s eyes light up when she catches a glimpse of the CallerID, “put her on speaker. Ice is one of our UConn teammates,” she explains, turning to Clémence who nods in recognition, “she probably did something dumb as fuck and need Azzi’s advice.”

“Don’t be mean,” Azzi scolds with a grin, knowing that Jana’s probably right as she picks up the call, “hello-”

“I hate you,” Azzi freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, laced with unfamiliar malice. Next to her Jana stiffens immediately while Clémence observes the scene in front of her with a guarded frown.

“Paige who the fuck are you calling?” Ice’s voice is muffled in the background, “oh shit, Paige give me back my phone.”

“No. She needs to hear this,” Paige grits out, her pitch wavering with the effects of alcohol, “she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Paige,” Ice hisses again.

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, fingers digging into her bare thighs as she grips her phone so hard, she half-expects it to break into pieces in a reflection of her heart, “I heard you Paige.”

“Good. Because I do. I really fucking hate you,” Paige repeats again and Azzi flinches, “you ruined me Azzi. And now you’re ruining my marriage. My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me. But she saw that damn hug at the Olympics and she- she’s upset with me. She thinks- she thinks I’m not over you.”

“Az maybe you should-” Jana says softly but Azzi immediately raises a hand to stop her. Maybe she’s a masochist but she can hear the hurt laced underneath the anger in Paige's voice. And if what Paige needs to get rid of her pain is a target to aim all her arrows at, then Azzi’s willing to sacrifice her heart, or at least what little is still left of it.

“And the worst thing about it,” Paige’s voice breaks, “is that she's probably right. I have the perfect fucking woman at home and I can’t seem to get over the one who broke my heart and never looked back. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Paige,” Ice pleads again and Azzi can hear her former teammate trying her best to wrangle the phone out of Paige’s firm grasp.

“I’m not done yet Ice. I need to talk to her and I need to talk to her now because if I don’t, I’ll never get the courage to say any of this again,” Paige is sobbing now, and her broken whimpers pierce Azzi’s heart deeper than any words could, “why couldn’t you just have said yes Az? I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them? How do you do it Azzi? How do you live without me because it’s been four years and I- I still don’t think I know how to live without you and I hate you, I hate you because you do.”

No, Azzi thinks, I really don’t. But she doesn’t say anything, rapidly blinking back tears as she avoids both Jana’s concerned look and Clémence’s more thoughtful gaze.

“I wish I could just feel nothing towards you Azzi,” Paige confesses, heaving as she struggles to breathe through her tears, “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to miss you and I really- I really, really don’t want to love you. Please just make it stop. I’m so tired of this Azzi. I’m so tired of hurting. How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it; she’s not sure if she wants Paige to have heard it. It’s the kind of pain, she thinks, she’s destined to feel forever. It’s weaved itself into every crevice of body and now it exists as just another innate part of her. Paige thinks Azzi’s learned to live without her but really all Azzi’s learned is how to live with these permanent scars of i think i’ll miss you forever.

“That’s enough Paige,” Ice’s voice is clearer now, having finally snatched the phone out of her teammate’s grip, “Azzi-” she begins apologetically, “she’s just drunk. She didn’t mean-”

“She did,” Azzi clears her throat, sinking into the way Jana's arms wrap around her, “she’s um- she’s gonna be really hungover in the morning. Make sure she- make sure you give her water but don’t- don’t give her coffee. She’ll want it but it’ll only make it worse because she uh- she- when she drinks too much, her stomach hurts and the caffeine- it just- it makes it worse so- don’t let her drink coffee tomorrow morning okay? And make sure- make sure she eats something before she takes painkillers. And Ice?’

“Yeah Azzi.”

“If she doesn’t remember any of this tomorrow morning, please don’t remind her.”

***

April 2033

The bar is buzzing with noise by the time Paige and Azzi finally arrive. It’s an exclusive enough place that they won’t be too bothered by fans asking for pictures and autographs but the size of the crowd still puts Azzi a little bit on edge. She can’t help the small smile that flitters across her face when she feels Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates. For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself but it’s nice -it feels right- to have someone else ready to be her shield too.

“You know Bueckers,” Joyce says as the two of them finally approach the table that had been reserved for the Valkyries, “some might say that one should be on time when meeting their new teammates. Just a thought.”

“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back.

Joyce grins, “alright time for introductions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know-”

“Shut up,” Joyce reprimands, throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulders, “let me introduce these brand new people to you.”

“They’re not-”

“Sssshhh. Let me have my fun. We’ll start over here with Westbeld and Booker. You might know them, their teams kicked your ass during the 23-24 season,” Joyce says with a smirk.

“Oh I do remember that,” Paige says thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with mirth, “what happened the season after?”

“Don’t be cocky Bueckers. It’s unbecoming,” Madison chides as she rises from the table to give Paige a hug.

“Yeah I try not to remember that Elite Eight game thanks,” Laila says, making a disgusted face.

Joyce glares at her, “did I introduce you yet Miss Phelia?”

Laila raises her hands in surrender as Joyce continues to give Paige a tour of the Valkyrie team. Azzi had known that Paige would fit in well with her teammate -really the blonde had the uncanny ability to fit in anywhere- but seeing it realized in front of her, it seems even clearer. Paige feels like the last mosaic piece, slotting in right where she belongs.

“Those two over there are our babies,” Joyce points to Haylen and Jayla, “they’re like five years old but we love them anyways.”

“I’m almost 25,” Haylen protests.

“See,” Joyce remarks, “literally children. And that one,” she points to Jana who beams at Paige, “well you already know her even if you sometimes wish you didn’t probably-”

“Hey!”

“Oh shush Jana,” Joyce says airily, “and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,” she pauses to look between them, “y’all don’t live that close to each other. Why didn’t you just carpool with Jana? I’m pretty sure she lives closer to you.”

Paige opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as Azzi feels her own cheeks heat up at the innocent enough question, “we um- well it's just- you see- my house is on the way from her parents and she had to drop off Stephie so it just- it just made sense you know? For efficiency’s sake.”

“Oh yeah for efficiency’s sake. They’re both very efficient,” Jana smirks, “makes a lot of sense.”

Joyce gives all three of them a weird look, “y’all Huskies are strange. It was just a question but anyways,” she grins as she finally steers Paige towards the blonde in the corner and Azzi stiffens at the way Paige’s body immediately tenses, “a couple of our teammates aren’t here but we do have a former teammate. Paige meet Clémence.”

“We’ve met,” Paige says, attempting to school her features to resemble anything but the discomfort she’s feeling within, “during the Olympics that is. We’ve beat France a couple of times.”

It’s a purposeful word choice, beat instead of played and Azzi's fingers fidget with the hem of her top as she tries to avoid looking at either of the two women.

“Yes. It is good to see you again,” Clémence says tersely, her French accent stronger than the last time Azzi had spoken to her. She shakes Paige’s hand rather formally before her eyes focus on Azzi and she determinedly walks towards the brunette, “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

“I-” Azzi stutters at the French woman pulls her into a hug; over her shoulder she can practically see steam coming out of Paige’s ears as she hyper focuses on how Clémence makes it a point rub her thumb down Azzi’s back, “it’s um- it’s good to see you too.”

She pulls away and she can feel the disappointment reverberating from Clémence’s body as Azzi practically flings herself on the chair next to Jana, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment as a punishment for her sins.

“Save me,” she pleads as Clémence and Paige sit as far away from each other as possible, occasionally shooting glares when they think the other isn’t looking.

“Save you from having two hot women fighting over you?” the center teases, “you truly have such first world problems Azzi Fudd.”

“They’re not fighting over me-”

“Azzi you will have your usual rum and coke no?” Clémence asks and Azzi looks over to where the francophone is intently staring at her, “I will go-”

“Oh there’s no need,” Paige says immediately, “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

Clémence narrows her eyes, “maybe she liked that when she was in college but Azzi likes something different now.”

“She might like something different now,” Paige counters, standing up aggressively so she towers over the table, “but she’s always gonna love a piña colada right Azzi?”

All eyes turn to look at Azzi who wants nothing more than to cower under the table- or hit Jana who seems to find this very unamusinging situation rather entertaining, “I um-” she swallows, “I think tonight calls for something stronger. Round of shots for the table? On me?”

It placates the situation for a while as the rest of the team cheers on the idea, beckoning over one of the bartenders to orders a round of tequila shots for the table. For a moment, Azzi tricks herself into thinking maybe that’ll be the end of ridiculous situations for the night as the team downs shots to Jana yelling “to the Valkyries” but she should have known it was wishful thinking.

Half the team ends up on the dance floor, swaying to the mixed rhythm of the music and the newly minted alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams. Azzi watches with a smile as despite her protests, Joyce manages to drag Paige onto the dance floor with her, engaging her in some eccentric dance moves as they try to outdo each other on who can look the silliest. And as the rest of the girls cheer the blonde on, it feels like Paige is chiseling out a place for herself in another part of Azzi’s world.

“She is easy to love,” Clémence’s hot breath fans Azzi’s ear as the francophone takes Jana’s empty seat next to the brunette.

“Clém-” Azzi sighs.

“She fits in well with the team,” Clémence continues, something wistful in her voice, “I have seen her play. She will fit in well on the court with you guys as well. She will fit in well next to you.”

“That’s the hope,” Azzi says softly as she tilts her head to look at the other woman, “you fit in well too. I mean it Clém. We’ll miss you at GSV.”

Clémence smiles bitterly, “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive. I mean considering she is casually wearing swarovski crystals on her neck in a bar on a random Saturday night, I am not surprised.”

The two of them laugh despite the gravity that looms heavily over them. Azzi and Clémence haven’t been anything in a long time but she’d never quite shut the possibility of a potential future done. She can hear the lock ready to click now. It’s bittersweet doing the right thing but as Paige glances over from the dancefloor, eyes darting cautiously between the two of them, Azzi knows that she doesn’t want to keep any other doors open. Not when the one with Paige’s name etched on the door handle, leads to home.

“One last dance?” Clémence asks softly, holding out her hand.

Azzi hesitates, knowing that it would irritate Paige but she thinks she probably owes Clémence this and so she smiles and takes the francophone’s outstretched hand as they join their other teammates. It’s nothing beyond friendly and they both keep their hands to themselves as they sway to the music, but Azzi can feel the annoyance radiating off of Paige from across the dancefloor. She would never admit it, perhaps it’s a little toxic of her, but there’s a certain thrill to making Paige jealous. There’s something about the way the blonde’s blue eyes flare with ice cold envy, the way her jaw hardens as she grinds her teeth. The way she looks at Azzi like if she had her way she’d drag the brunette out of the bar and mark her with a possessive you’re mine you’re mine youre mine. It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence.

“I understand now,” the francophone says thoughtfully as Azzi’s peers up at her in confusion, “when you told me that you could not be with me. I get it.”

“I don’t-”

“You are here with me but you aren’t actually. You will always be with her,” Clémence tilts her head towards Paige, “you always have been. I understand now,” she says again simply before her face hardens, “even after all those words she said to you on the phone that night.”

Azzi’s stomach curls at the reminder. She knows exactly what night Clémence is referring to. Sometimes when she closes her eyes, it’s those words, coated in anger and malice, that shower around her like acid rain, seeping into her skin and infecting her bloodstream.

“I told you, you deserved better,” Clémence says and Azzi gulps, “but you said- you said you deserved worse. I hope you don’t believe that anymore Azzi. Just because you hurt her doesn’t mean you need to let her hurt you too.”

“I-” Azzi’s cut off by a hard body ramming into her own and she feels herself going stumbling back into the unwanted arms of a random man, “I’m sorry,” she says tersely, struggling to get out his grip.

“No worries pretty girl,” he says toothily, the heavy stench of alcohol in his breath making Azzi feel nauseous, “but now that you’re here, how about I buy you a drink.”

“No thank you,” Azzi says sternly, trying to push the man away but he’s relentless.

“Aw c’mon don’t be like that sweetheart,” the term of endearment sounds like an insult falling from his lips and Azzi loses her patience, stomping her heel into the man’s foot to finally free herself from his grip and he yelps in surprise.

“I said no thank you.”

“What the fuck,” the man spits out, standing up as Azzi takes a step back. He’s got some muscle and although, despite his bravado, she knows she’s strong enough to take him, she’d rather not create a scene. Her plan is to walk away. Paige seems to have other ideas, suddenly materializing in between Azzi and the man, a furious look on her face as she squares him up.

“Do we have a problem?” the blonde asks menacingly.

“Nothing other than your little friend here being a fucking bitch.”

Paige’s eyes darken as she takes a threatening step towards him, prevented from going further only by the way Azzi immediately laces a hand around her wrist, “what the fuck did you call her?”

“I called her a-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi cuts in, stepping in between a glaring Paige and a man who’s clearly underestimating her strength, “let it go Paige.”

“Yeah,” the man mocks, “let it go Paige.”

“You fucking-” Paige tries to lunge at him but Azzi’s quick to shove her back gently.

“Don’t cause a scene,” she warns.

“Azzi-”

“Paige please.”

“Holy shit,” the man wolf-whistles, “y’all play for the Valks. You’re Azzi Fudd. I know you.”

“Good for you,” Azzi spits out at him before turning her attention back to Paige, who looks like she could kill the man if given the chance, “c’mon let's go back to our tab-”

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

An unmistakable crunch rings out through the bar as the man goes flying backwards. Azzi’s knuckles are bleeding as her breath comes out in ragged huffs. She hadn’t wanted to cause a scene; could have walked away from a man being a drunken idiot, could have walked away from being called a bitch or hell, even something worse. But the man had attacked the one part of her that she’d always be ready to go to war for. He’d brought up Stephie and she’d seen red. Her fist had moved of it's own accord.

Paige doesn’t say anything and Azzi can feel the anger still vibrating from the older woman’s body as she roughly grabs Azzi’s unhurt hand.

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

***

It’s a subconscious choice to let Paige drive Azzi’s car even though they’ve both sobered up considerably, not that one shot had done much in the first place. It’s a subconscious choice that Azzi reaches over to lace her fingers through Paige’s free hand, resting it on her lap, as the blonde use her other hand to grip the steering wheel. It’s a subconscious choice that they end up driving to Azzi’s house in complete silence. She’s not sure who’s mad at who, if they’re even mad at each other or that man or just the world but she can feel the fury suffocating the air.

“Where’s your first-aid kit?” Paige says gruffly as Azzi unlocks the door.

“Bathroom,” Azzi says quietly and Paige is off towards it before the word has even fully left the brunette’s mouth. Azzi scrambles after her, pausing in the doorway as Paige rummages through drawers, knowing better than to interrupt to help when Paige looks livid like this.

“Sit,” Paige points to the sink once she’s finally found the sanitizer and gauze to clean up dried up blood staining Azzi’s knuckles.

“I can do it my-”

Paige glares at her, “just sit on the fucking sink Azzi.”

Putting away her own irritation at being told what to do, Azzi lifts herself onto the flat surface of the sink, opening her legs slightly so that Paige can stand between them. Despite still quivering with barely concealed rage, Paige’s touch is gentle as she dabs at the remnants of red liquid on Azzi’s hand.

“You should’ve just let me punch him when I wanted to,” she says finally.

“So you could be the one bleeding?” Azzi raises an eyebrow.

“No because he would’ve never gotten the courage to say shit about Stephie if you’d just let me kill him when he called you a bitch,” Paige bites out venomously.

“And let you go to jail? I couldn’t do that to Stephie,” Azzi tries to lighten the tension in the room, “she’d miss you too much.

“This isn’t funny, Azzi,” Paige seethes as she begins to wrap the white gauze around the wound.

“I know,” the younger woman says, trailing her other hand down Paige’s arms trying to soothe her anger, “but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fucking fine,” Paige yells.

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right.

“Did you call Clémence that too?” and there it is, the real reason behind the volcano erupting as Paige decidedly looks away from Azzi.

Azzi narrows her eyes, “I don’t know Paige. Did you call Olivia that?”

“That’s different,” Paige grits out, “Olivia was my wife.”

Azzi flinches at the word; hates that somebody else had ever had the honor of being called that even if she knows it’s unfair of her to feel that way when she’s the one that had turned it down first.

“Exactly,” she says slowly, “you married someone else-” she holds up a hand when Paige protests, “I know. I know I said no but you married someone else Paige. So you don’t get to be mad at me for having something with someone else too.”

Paige is quiet for a moment and Azzi sees the exact moment the fight leaves her body as she lets out a sigh, leaning her head against Azzi’s shoulder.

“You’re right,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, hands moving to rest against the brunette’s thighs.

Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair, brushing it in tandem with the harmony of her breathing, “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige breath tickles against Azzi’s skin and she shivers in spite of the tense moment,“I just-” the blonde lifts her head to look at Azzi, “I need to know who Clémence was to you. You- you know what Olivia was to me and I- I just need to know the same about Clémence.”

“She-” Azzi hesitates, “we hooked up a couple of times,” she squeezes Paige’s hand when the blonde flinches, “but then she- she wanted more but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do that. Partly because I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same- don’t look so smug,” Azzi chides when a small grin forms on Paige’s face, “and partly because we were on the same team. I didn’t want to complicate things, not like last time. Feel like I should probably have a rule not to date teammates.”

“Right.”

Azzi watches the cogs turning in Paige’s brain and she reaches out a hand to ease the creases forming on her forehead, “what are you thinking Bueckers?”

“I just-” Paige bites her lip, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I mean we’re gonna be- I mean we are- we’re on the same team too,” Paige says and Azzi can hear the insecurity of will you leave me again weaved through her voice.

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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flowerandblood · 1 month

Text

The Price of Pride (4/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The boy's death had devastated her.

Even though it was a strange child to her, in addition from a family she despised, it was still small and innocent – she had seen Prince Jaehaerys accompanied by servants escorting him to his morning classes when she herself had gone out to meet his uncle, to practice on Vhagar the commands as she did every day.

Knowing that her father had done this made her feel a partial sense of guilt for what had happened, though she did not understand why.

Was it because she was born of his poisoned seed?

That a part of him lived inside her?

She knew it was revenge for Lucerys' death, but after all, the little prince had nothing to do with it.

The death of an innocent being always hurt the most.

She watched his funeral procession from outside the windows of the Red Keep, from her prison that was her small chamber, thinking of her one-eyed cousin.

Were you with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to?

With your second mummy?

She didn't know why his lowered head, his face and big eye filled with tears of shame made her feel sympathy towards him.

However, the death of King's son made her reflect on her own life and what she had experienced in it.

She realised that she had lived for years as if in lethargy, spending her time riding horses and hunting, even though in the midst of her family, in fact always remaining alone.

She realised that she had never even kissed a man.

She had never experienced a touch that was tender, that was pleasurable, that made her feel safe.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

She couldn't try to seduce him directly, offer to spend the night in his bed – he would send her away immediately, furious, knowing what she wanted to do and how she hoped to achieve it.

She had to show him what he could have, while at the same time not offering it to him herself.

She had to make him desire whatever she was in his mind.

"I want to ask you something, cousin." She muttered, standing over him with a jug of wine, wondering what she was doing. "And I know you won't like it."

She saw him freeze, looking ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He sneered, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet without even bestowing a single glance on her.

His vision was hazy, his mind dulled by the wine.

He was weak, vulnerable, heartbroken by what had happened to his nephew, sunk in guilt.

This was her chance.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly, and he sighed heavily, impatient, setting his cup down on the table.

"What do you want?"

She licked her lower lip, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest, cold sweat trickling down her back.

He would fall into a fury or fuck her, there was no other option left.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered.

She saw that he froze motionless, his healthy eye open wide in shock.

Oh gods.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked coldly, annoyed, however it was not as aggressive a response as she had expected.

He himself didn't know what he thought of it, she thought.

Good.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said with a certainty that surprised her, recognising that her directness was due to the fact that she was partly telling the truth.

He was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his finger in some involuntary reflex began to tap against the table top.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force."

There it is.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said without stammering, his grin turned towards her making her feel an uncomfortable shiver.

"It will."

Finding a willing person turned out not to be too difficult: she simply lied to the man she found handsome that the prince liked to look at such things and that it was his idea.

What could he do to her for those words even if he found out about it?

Were they not partly true?

Her whole body quivered in excitement and disbelief as, lying beneath Tyland Lannister's servant, she heard his lazy footsteps, felt his gaze on them, the fiery, thirsty lips of her lover pressed against hers.

It was a surprisingly wet and slick experience, not as pleasurable as she had imagined, however, it was not all that bad.

She swallowed hard, hearing her cousin sit down in a chair in the distance, and flinched when the man's hand suddenly clamped down on her breast, causing an unpleasant chill to pass through her.

"– no –" She whispered, tightening her hand on his wrist. "– not yet –"

She exhaled quietly, closing her eyes as she felt him take his hand away, trailing it instead around her waist, trying to feel what she had felt when her cousin had leaned over her face after she had fainted.

Serve me well and I will reward you.

When the time comes.

She felt it, that wonderful pulsing between her thighs, and sighed, opening her eyelids, involuntarily glancing at him. Her breath froze in her throat, her womanhood swelled all over as she met his gaze, dark and hot, his legs crossed, his head cocked in curiosity.

She gasped, feeling a squeeze in her throat and a cold shudder when the boy's body suddenly pressed her against the bed, constricting her space, making her fingers tighten on the back of his tunic in terror.

Is this how it should be?

Should she be so afraid, feel so cornered?

"– slow down –" She heard his voice, deep and displeased – her lover looked at him, surprised, panting heavily.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated with a kind of threat in his voice from which her lips parted in disbelief, some sense of gratitude and warmth spread through her heart, a pleasant stickiness sweeping from between her thighs down her buttocks.

He was protecting her, she thought, feeling the situation begin to slip out of her control.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Make me feel safe, she thought pleadingly, but no words left her lips.

Shame overwhelmed her.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed the boy, her eyes grew big as she stared at him in disbelief – his nostrils twitched in excited breath, the corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smirk.

A sigh left her throat as the servant lifted her skirt and smallclothes, her gaze fixed on her cousin's face as his hand found her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

She moaned.

However, after a moment she flinched and swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers touch a very tender, sensitive spot, giving her pleasure and pain at the same time, not knowing what she herself felt, tears burning under her eyelids.

Why did it feel like this?

Why couldn't she enjoy it, why was she losing focus?

"– step back, boy –" She heard his voice, and then noticed that he moved towards them, startling her and him – she rose up on her elbows, panting heavily as he pulled her forward, sitting behind her back, pulling her close, his legs on either side of her body.

His arms embraced her lightly, his hand tilting her head back, allowing her to spread out comfortably while not taking away her sense of security.

She swallowed hard, feeling something long and hard pulsate behind her, pressing against her buttocks.

Good gods.

She gasped as she felt him press his nose against her hot cheek, his thumb running over her jaw as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, exposing her bare thighs.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over the skin of her face, making her feel a simultaneous shudder of pleasure and terror shake her, his hand trailing down the exposed skin of her thigh.

Lick her?

What did he mean by that?

What purpose did it serve?

"– what? –" She mumbled, terrified, involuntarily reaching back with her hand, clamping it over his long white hair, wanting to pull away, hitting his hard body again.

She had nowhere to run.

"– easy – let me take care of this –" He whispered in her ear, making her moan stuck in her throat, her nipples became hard at his words, her throbbing walls clenching around nothing.

Let me take care of this.

He knew.

He knew what she craved.

She stifled a breath as the man obediently leaned between her thighs, a terrified, pathetic, surprised moan escaping her throat when she felt something warm and sticky slip between her tight, swollen slit.

His tongue.

She clenched her hand harder in his white hair, feeling her cousin's hand slide down her leg, to the very spot her lover had touched earlier – this time, however, she didn't feel the unpleasant pain as his fingertips merely circled around her oversensitive little bud, causing her to leak, stimulated from the inside and outside.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled in despair as she tried to pull away from him, never having experienced a similar sensation before, he, however, held her in an iron grip, his free hand sliding from her face under the material of her gown, to her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said matter-of-factly in a way that sent a shiver through her – she tilted her head back, feeling the servant's tongue accelerate, forcing its way again and again deep inside her hot, throbbing cunt.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she sought refuge, not knowing what to do with the waves of tickling pleasure and tension that were rising in her body, so she turned her face towards him and he leaned in, letting their foreheads touch.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

He was so close.

The gentle touch of his hand between her thighs, his thumb teasing lazily her hard nipple, his hot breath on her face, his embrace was too familiar, too safe.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He breathed out encouragingly, and she shuddered all over in his arms, feeling her lover's tongue hit the sweet spot inside her again and again, her and her cousin's hips beginning to rub against each other, his manhood unashamedly hard and swollen.

If only you were my little sister.

I want this, she thought.

I want to be what you want me to be.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, sinking his fingers into the throbbing folds of her moist womanhood, weeping with desire, teasing with lazy, slow circles her little bud.

She felt tears under her eyelids as she shook her head.

She didn't know.

She didn't know what her father would say to this sight.

He wasn't there for her.

He hadn't protected her.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He exhaled and she shook her head, moaning from exertion, feeling something approaching, the tingling tension between her thighs unbearable, her breath heavy and hitched, droplets of sweat running down her skin.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't take it any longer, and then she was shaken by a pleasure foreign and overpowering, hot and sweet, flowing in waves through her whole body, her lips, her nipples, her fingertips, her silken walls clenching around nothing.

For a moment she heard or saw nothing, heard his soothing whisper, his warm breath enveloping her face, his hands closed over her womanhood and over her breasts just continued to press against her skin, allowing her to calm down.

"You may leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out." She heard his cold voice, but knew it wasn't meant for her – the man lying between her thighs had risen and simply stepped off the bed, leaving them alone, and she sighed loudly, as if she had just accomplished some extraordinary, demanding feat.

She didn't know why she had sought refuge in his embrace, why she had turned in his arms and snuggled into his body, burying her face in his neck, why she had felt nothing but peace as one of his hands lay on her back while the other slowly stroked her hair.

One by one tears ran down her cheeks, shame, relief and sadness spilling over her heart, making her only able to lie down and breathe. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, the warmth of his body that pulsed almost imperceptibly, his manhood pushing against her stomach, his hands trailing gently over her body.

She thought that he was certainly proud of himself, but she decided that it didn't matter.

She needed his arms, she needed to hide, to disappear, to melt into him as one, not to think, not to feel, not to exist.

She fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon – there was no one in the chamber but her, however, she knew it was not a dream.

Her bedding was soaked with his scent.

She wasn't sure who had benefited from what had happened. She decided, however, surprised by this discovery, that she did not regret it and did not intend to think about it again.

It had never happened.

As he had ordered, she was already ready before dawn, waiting for him in the courtyard in her riding attire, his mother, clearly displeased with his idea, tried to stop him, to his apparent annoyance.

"You cannot leave the Red Keep without Vhagar. Who will protect us?" She asked, and her son rolled his eyes, impatient, licking his lower lip.

"I leave you in the care of Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. May my brother be of some use for once. With the help of the gods, we will return in about four days with a new dragon on our side." He said and stepped around her, mounting his horse and nodding at her to do the same.

When they reached Vhagar's lair, the dragoness raised lazily her large head, looking at them curiously – having seen her almost every day, she had already become accustomed to her presence and scent, remaining calm.

"Come." He said, and she moved to follow him, seeing that he had taken in his hands some of the bags his horse had been carrying on its back earlier.

She walked behind him, never coming this close to her, watching as the prince tied the grey bags to the ropes hanging from the saddle.

"What are you waiting for? Climb up." He said, glancing at her impatiently, and she nodded, surprised by his directness.

They both had no intention of showing that what had happened had affected them in any way.

Being with him meant a constant battle for dominance.

So be it, she thought and glanced up, sighing quietly.

She was afraid that Vhagar would not be happy that someone other than her rider was trying to climb onto her back, she, however, merely tilted her head towards her and watched her, not moving from her place.

"Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī." Her cousin reassured her as she, panting heavily, climbed with great difficulty over one of the ropes to her very back and sat down in the large leather saddle.

She blinked as her cousin appeared at her side shortly afterwards, as if covering the same distance hadn't caused him any trouble, and sat behind her, pulling the bags up, using the ropes so that they weren't hanging down.

She grunted, leaning forward, hugging the front of the saddle, feeling him all too clearly, his body pressed against her buttocks and back. She shuddered as he slipped his hands under her shoulders, grabbed a couple of the front ropes and called out loudly.

"Sōvēs!"

She squealed, terrified, hugging the saddle as the dragoness suddenly rose up on her paws, moving forward with a loud thump, and closed her eyes as she spread her great wings and flapped them, struggling to slowly lift herself into the air.

She had never experienced something so terrifying and liberating at the same time.

It wasn't until Vhagar had stabilised her flight and was gliding through the heavens that she dared to open her eyes – she froze in awe, seeing clouds all around her, doing what other people could only dream of.

Indeed, there was something wonderful about it, she thought with delight.

In the freedom that flight in the skies offered.

She leaned against the front of the saddle, simply looking ahead with a smile, watching the sun rise in the distance. She drew in a loud breath, feeling her heart beat harder as his cheek pressed against hers, apparently resting in this position.

She felt his erection pushing against her buttocks again, but neither of them spoke.

It was just a man's natural reaction to a woman's closeness, nothing more, she thought.

She knew he was playing with her – she knew he already understood what she wanted.

What she needed.

Tenderness.

Care.

Shelter.

This was why he nuzzled his nose into her cheek, why he persisted in this position: he wanted to break her, wanted her to love what he could be for her.

She felt tears under her eyelids, her eyebrows arching in pain knowing that it was all just a lie.

Her father would never come back for her, and even if he did, it would only be for the sake of the dragon, if she could tame it.

But not for her.

She was of no value to either of them.

As they landed with a thud on the ground in the middle of a wasteland full of hills, evening was approaching. It was only when she opened her eyes, horrified by how intense the landing itself had been, that she realised that her cousin had not chosen this place without reason.

He must have noticed from above what she could see clearly now – vast expanses of black, scorched earth with dozens of animal skeletons.

She shuddered as she heard her cousin untie the bags they had taken with them, letting them fall to the ground, and after a moment he slid down the rope to the bottom, landing lightly on the ground himself.

"Come here."

She made big eyes, feeling that this height terrified her. She swallowed hard, turning her back, grabbing the line and squealed as she suddenly slid down it with far too much speed, thinking she was just going to kill herself.

She gasped as she felt someone's arms soften her fall, supporting her, his impatient sigh told her it was not a graceful jump.

"Get yourself together. We're going to recon. It's fresh tracks, it must not be far." He said, and she nodded, feeling her legs grow all stiff from the long hours of travelling in the saddle.

Her cousin looked around, as if trying to remember this place and how they were supposed to get back here, then moved ahead quickly, making her have to almost run after him.

"When we find it. What should I do? Approach it right away?" She exhaled, following him step by step.

"Mmm. No, you'd better not do anything rash. No sudden movements. You can't make a mistake." He said coldly, and she swallowed hard, thinking in the back of her mind that it was easy for him to say.

However, despite all the absurdity of the situation, she felt excitement.

If she succeeded, she would return to King's Landing on the back of her own dragon.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

"We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction." He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn't she feel the need to run away?

When they returned to Vhagar's liege, darkness surrounded them. Her cousin had picked up a few long, thick branches on the way, and when they sat down on the grass he laid them down and lit a fire using a flint he had taken from one of his bags.

She did not ask his permission, which did not escape his notice as she untied one of them and began rummaging through it.

"What are you doing?" He asked matter-of-factly, adding wood to the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you take for us as nourishment?" She answered with a question to a question, causing him to merely turn his face away from her, trying to control himself for sure and not hurt her with his own hands.

"Bread and smoked meat." He said, and she sighed, pulling out a waterskin with spring water, drinking a few deep sips from it.

"If I had known that this would be our sustenance for the next few days, I would have asked you to bring a bow with us and I would have provided our meal myself." She said regretfully, and his face turned abruptly towards her.

"You don't need to eat. You will survive on water alone until our return to King's Landing." He hissed, meeting her tired, weary gaze.

"I have cooked many times while hunting with my uncle. It's a useful skill." She replied, pulling a woollen blanket from the pouch with which she covered herself.

Although Vhagar lay beside them, they were high between the hills where a strong, chilly wind was blowing.

She knew the night would be difficult.

Her cousin no longer spoke to her, gazing into the flames as if he could see something in them, his past or his future, his silhouette sitting on the Iron Throne or his fall from the heavens.

Finally, he lay down on the uncomfortably hard ground, placing one of his bags under his head, covering himself with the other blanket, and turned his back to her.

They couldn't sleep too close to Vhagar, for there was a risk that she would simply crush them by turning in her sleep. Therefore, they had to lie at a great distance from her, and their only source of heat was the fire.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think as her teeth began to chatter, her body trembling, her hands clenched into fists with each stronger gust of wind.

If this kept up, they'd both wake up with a fever.

"I'm cold." She said.

Silence.

A long one.

"I'm really cold. Aren't you?" She mumbled, guessing that he was suffering as much as she was, but would sooner die than admit it.

Targaryens and their fucking pride.

She stood up and walked a few steps with her blanket towards him, causing him to have exactly the reaction she wanted – he raised himself on his elbow and looked towards her, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"You have no shame."

"I don't care about shame. I'm supposed to die in dragon fire, not from the cold." She said and lay down beside him, slipping under his blanket, covering them with the other to create a thicker layer to protect them from the cold.

He slumped to the ground, letting the air out loudly, looking up at the stars as if he had given up. She embraced him, but not because she sought safety in his arms, but because he was a source of warmth that she wanted to cling to at all costs, hugging her face to his chest.

They stayed like that in silence, not moving – at first his whole body was tense, as if he thought that what she had done was just an excuse for her to slip her hand under his breeches and shamelessly try to seduce him – he relaxed, however, when he realised that all she really wanted was to lie in the warmth, and since he himself apparently felt better, also warmed by her presence, he said nothing more.

"What did you feel when you tamed Vhagar?" She whispered, looking ahead at the outline of the hills and mountains around them, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks.

She was sure he wouldn't answer and felt herself begin to slowly fall asleep when she heard his quiet voice.

"Relief."

She blinked, surprised, not expecting him to put it this way.

Relief.

"Why?" She dared to ask further, still not looking at him, his heart hidden beneath the material of his tunic and cloak hit hard.

"I gave my family a reason to be proud." He explained, a note of bitterness in his words, as if something in that memory was painful to him.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking with disappointment that she had never been anyone's pride.

Nothing she did mattered – not really.

She felt a single, lone tear run down her cheek onto the material of his leather coat and inhaled loudly, saying nothing more.

She shuddered, pulled out of her reverie when he slided his arm out from between their bodies – she froze when she felt him embrace her, cuddling her into his body, his fingers running through her soft hair as his cheek rested against her forehead.

She snuggled into him, into the merciless substitute of a protector he was to her, feeling the warmth in her chest as he let her face sink into his neck.

She knew that a part of him sympathised with her – she knew that, like her, he understood that in a day or two she might die for his cause, and so in some twisted definition of duty he tried to give her what she had craved all her life as a consolation prize for what she might lose.

It was so pathetic that she clenched her eyes shut and let heavy tears of shame run down her cheeks, her breath hitched and heavy, filled with pain.

She let him do this, let him take advantage of her desperation, the fact that she wanted so much to satisfy his vanity, because of how unavailable he reminded her of her father – by satisfying him, in her mind she was satisfying the man on whose lap she had sat as a small child, imagining that he had given her a second chance.

He created a lie for her to be able to endure what he was condemning her to.

"If you succeed. If you tame a dragon." He whispered, and she froze, feeling that he was about to reveal something vital to her, some secret he had never told anyone. "I will treat you like my little sister. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side."

She shook her head, thinking how cruel he was, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to break her heart, to bend her to his will, to make sure she never betrayed him.

She cried out helplessly as he hugged her tighter to his body, as he cupped her cheek in his broad palm, rough from wielding his sword, and pressed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was too intimate, too tender, too sweet.

"I will protect you."

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steventhusiast · 5 months

Text

STWG prompt 20/4/24

prompt: accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

pairing/character(s): steddie

i somehow wrote 1.8k... enjoy

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been this distracted by a customer before at work. He’s just so… hot. Like, the usual customers he serves are rich and well-dressed, sure. But they’re businessmen well-dressed, and that can’t even begin to describe this particular customer. He’s been calling him Hot Guy in his head for the past thirty minutes.

Hot Guy is in a suit, yes, but that’s not even the best part of this man’s look. The suit’s all black and hugs his waist deliciously, but it’s everything else that has Steve practically drooling where he stands by the bar, waiting for his next round of drinks to be made. Hot Guy looks a little less pristine and perfect than the usual businessmen; his hairs up in a messy ponytail, strands of a fringe framing his face, and he has beautiful silver earrings on and an expensive looking chain around his neck. And every time he moves just so, Steve gets to see a peek of a tattoo on his chest as his half-unbuttoned black shirt moves. Gorgeous…

“All ready for you, Steve.”

He’s snapped out of it by the bartender on shift, and looks at the bar to see, oh yes, all of his drinks are ready. He offers the bartender a smile and a thank you, and gets to balancing them on his serving tray.

See, he can get a little distracted by hot customers, but he can’t be seen as a slacker. He cannot afford to lose this job.

He and Robin finally were able to move to Chicago four months ago, and it took him three months (and a good chunk of his emergency savings) to find a job as a waiter at some restaurant. It’s not even a particularly nice job. Sure, the restaurant is fancy as hell, and the customers tip really fucking well, but the pay leaves much to be desired. Like, a usual customer (rich) tips him more than he gets paid for a whole shift! And he’s not complaining about the tips, per say, but when the restaurant’s clientele can tip that much… surely the restaurant can afford to pay their workers a decent wage!

Just as he manages to balance the drinks on his tray, he notices his newest co-worker, Danny, fiddling with his own collection of drink glasses. Danny looks awfully shifty as he glances over his shoulder at a table and then takes a small sachet out of his pocket, tears a corner and pours it into one of the wine glasses.

Steve’s eyes narrow at the action. What the fuck?

Over the last week of Danny working at the restaurant, he has thought him to be unpleasant at best and suspicious at worst. The one time Steve tried to make conversation with him, just asking where he worked before there, he got a glare and a clipped comment about not getting personal. Now that he thinks about it, Steve doesn’t even know Danny’s last name.

He watches Danny pick up the tray, do a final glance around the restaurant (either not perceiving Steve as a threat or not seeing him stood five feet away), and walks toward the table area.

And he’s not saying Danny would poison a customer. He’s not saying that, because that is insane. But. What’s the alternative? That Danny got a request to put, like, powdered vitamins in someone’s drink? It’s just shifty that’s all!

And, like he said, he can’t afford to lose this job.

That includes if it gets shut down for becoming a murder scene. Or him accidentally abetting a murder by not doing anything!

What does he even do? He’s going to look genuinely insane, whether he's right or wrong.

Danny reaches a table (it’s the table Hot Guy is seated at) with his tray, and plasters on a customer service smile as he starts dishing out the drinks. Steve keeps an eye on the (possibly) tainted wine glass as Danny puts it down in front of- in front of Hot Guy. Shit.

Steve’s heart starts speeding up as he watches Hot Guy pick up the wine glass, inspecting it and giving it a little swirl before starting to lift it, and- fuck it.

Steve bolts over to the table, definitely knocking over another server’s tray as he goes, and has to shove the wine glass out of Hot Guy’s hand to stop whatever’s about to happen.

The liquid splashes onto Hot Guy’s chest (Steve hopes the poison isn’t, like, corrosive), then the glass shatters to the floor, and Steve’s left heaving as he catches his breath. Not from the exercise, but from the adrenaline rush. Because Steve is- oh god, he’s in Hot Guy’s lap.

He scrambles to stand up, cheeks bright red, and chances a glance at Danny. On the surface, Danny looks shocked and apologetic to the rest of the businessmen at the table, but Steve sees his right eye twitch and his ears start to tint red. Okay. So. Even if he looks crazy, maybe he made a good move.

He looks back toward Hot Guy only to find that he’s already being watched with an inquisitive gaze. The man still has his hand held up like he’s holding the wine glass still, and he has one (perfectly manicured) eyebrow raised at Steve. Steve feels his cheeks heat up even more under his attention.

“I am so sorry, sir.” Steve finds himself blurting out, but Hot Guy just shakes his head at him, oddly calm.

“I’ll get you another drink, Mr Munson.” Danny says, giving Steve a pointed glare before walking away.

Hot Guy- No. Mr Munson looks like he’s about to say something, but Steve needs to get him somewhere he can tell him what happened away from other people and before Danny tries it again, so he boldly puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. The possibility of looking crazy be damned.

“Let me help you get cleaned up, sir.”

Mr Munson considers him for a moment more, and then nods. Maybe he sees the frantic, anxious look in Steve’s expression, or maybe he just wants to yell at Steve outside of the view of his assumed co-workers.

"I'll be right back. Don't talk business without me." Mr Munson addressed his table before following him off.

Steve leads him to the customer toilets, and then takes him to the staff hallway just behind them. Mr Munson’s eyebrows raise at that, and at the serious expression on Steve’s face.

“Sir, I’m so sorry for that, but I… This is going to sound insane, but I think my co-worker poisoned your drink.”

He levels Mr Munson with a serious expression as he speaks, trying to negate the craziness of what he’s saying by showing he’s not joking. Through doing so, of course, Steve also gets the chance to get a better look at Mr Munson’s face, which is just… like he said earlier, gorgeous. And that’s not even talking about the deep brown of his eyes.

Mr Munson doesn’t even flinch at Steve’s words, just looks down at the wine on his shirt with a vague look of disgust.

“I see.”

He doesn’t sound surprised. What the fuck? Who is this man?

“You don’t seem shocked.” Steve finds himself saying, and then his eyes widen and he smacks a hand over his mouth, “Ignore me! I don’t want to get involved in any, um. Not crimes. I’m going to stop talking now.”

As he keeps talking, Mr Munson’s face contorts into an amused smile, and his gaze wanders over Steve’s form, then back up to his eyes. When Steve’s done rambling, the man laughs.

“No. I’m not shocked.” Is all Mr Munson says, “But unfortunately, you are involved now, sweetheart.”

Steve feels the colour drain from his face at the words and the serious tone Mr Munson speaks them in, but before he can even squeak (or scream) in response, the Staff Only door slams open, and Steve is greeted with two pistols pointed at him.

Then he squeaks. And puts his hands up in a surrender position, even though the two men glaring at him don’t look like police officers. They’re wearing suits, like they’re customers of the restaurant. And they completely ignore Steve in favour of scanning over Mr Munson.

Holy shit. What the fuck is his life? Robin will never believe him when he gets home. If he gets home.

“Put the guns down, boys.” Mr Munson says from beside Steve, and then (gently) puts his hands on Steve’s arms to push them back down to his sides, “No need for all that, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, Eddie. We thought- you just disappeared, and we heard glass shattering, so-” One of the gunmen says, stumbling through his words slightly.

“We thought you’d been kidnapped. Again.” The other says, looking unimpressed.

Eddie rolls his eyes, and Steve notes how he hasn’t removed his hands from him yet.

“I’ve been told that- sorry, sweetheart, what’s your name?” Eddie starts, maintaining eye contact with Steve only.

Sweetheart. Kill him now. How is his dick still working in these conditions, and why is 'sweetheart' doing it for him? Maybe it's more to do with Eddie himself than the word...

“Steve.” He squeaks out.

“Right. Steve, here, thinks my drink was poisoned by his co-worker. He’s the culprit for the glass, and this,” Eddie gestures to his wet shirt, “and then he took me here to clean me up.”

“What’s the name of this co-worker?” One of the gunmen ask Steve, voice intense, and when Steve just blinks at him he takes a step forward like he’s about to put a hand on him. Steve can’t help his flinch in response.

Which Eddie apparently feels, given the way he tsks at his men and takes a step back, pulling Steve with him.

“No threatening my possible saviour, Jeffy. This isn’t an interrogation.”

“His- His name’s Danny. I don’t know a last name.” Steve says finally, and gulps when Eddie rubs his thumbs back and forth where his hands are still on him.

“Good boy.” Eddie says softly, and Steve can’t help the shudder that runs through him.

Okay. It's confirmed. Apparently being mildly traumatised by guns doesn’t stop him from getting horny. Good to know. Hopefully Eddie doesn't notice how red he's gotten again.

Eddie finally lets go of him to step toward his men.

“You heard the man. Gareth, go get a sample of the wine that spilled on the floor and figure out if Stevie here is right, and Jeff, go tell everyone else who we’re looking for and find Danny.”

The two gunmen leave with their orders, and Eddie turns back to Steve. He’s looking at Steve with that intense gaze once again, eyes dragging down to his beat-up Reeboks and back up to his dishevelled face.

“Now, how can I reward you for probably saving my life, sweetheart?”

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #this got away from me so bad it's 1.8k words at least #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting

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qwimblenorrisstan · 3 months

Text

ACOTAR Masterlist

🥀 = Angst 🌼 = Fluff

🌸 = Comfort 🌹 = Smut

Request Guidelines

Azriel

~ Free Fall | Azriel x Angel!Reader 🌼

Summary: After you fell from the sky into his arms, Azriel finds you as his mate, and finally introduced you to his family.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ Blood Red | Azriel x Cassian’sister!Reader 🥀🌹🌸

Summary: After both you and Azriel are left, abandoned and replaced by those close to you, you find company with him in a night of drunken lust, only for old secrets to be unburied in the morning along with a mating bond.

~ Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ Candles and Cuddles | Azriel x Reader 🌸🌼

Summary: You take Azriel to get a personal wax mold of your hands intertwined, and after overcoming insecurity, settle into each other’s warm embrace.

~ The Clandestine Culinarian | Azriel x Reader 🥀

Summary: Azriel requires a deadly poison, and the only place he can get acquire it is through a bakery in Hewn City, and in the process grows closer to you, the owner of the shop, and is there for you when tragedy strikes.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

~ Snow Bunny | Azriel x Reader 🌼🌹

Summary: After the bat boys enjoy their annual snowball fight, in which Azriel wins, he gets the best prize of all, a night alone with his mate.

~ Short Drabble | Azriel x Reader 🌼

Summary: Sleepy mornings with your mate.

~ Catch of the Eye | Azriel x Hippy!Reader🌼

Summary: After you moved into Velaris, your bright demeanor and clothing seemed to demand Azriel’s attention, as well as the rumors of the Princess of Autumn’s disappearance.

~ Dawn Daydreams | Azriel x Peregryn!Reader🌼🌹

Summary: While visiting Dawn Court with his High Lord and Lady for political relations, Azriel finds himself falling for you, Thesan’s sister, from a distance, only for the bond to snap in the middle of the High Lord’s meeting.

~ Home, At Last | Azriel & WitchDaughter!Reader🥀🌸

Summary: Unbeknownst to Azriel, an encounter he had with a witch nearly three centuries ago will come back to haunt him when his shadows begin speaking of you, his “daughter”, a witch in danger of being thrown out of her coven.

~ Glimmering Shadows | Azriel x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: While visiting Spring Court on political business with Rhys, Azriel meets you, a Faerie with little glimmering sparks that help you in the same way his shadows help him, and he decides that visiting you a few more times afterwards couldn’t hurt.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ Wine-Nights And Shadow-Sneezes🌼🌼

Summary: You are an artist in Velaris, and a popular one at that, leading you to befriend Feyre. She invites you over to drink wine with her, only for you to later be left alone with Azriel as he confesses something he never thought he would.

~ A Silver Storm | HockeyPlayer!Azriel x FigureSkater!Reader🥀🌼

Summary: Shortly after moving to a new school for better opportunities in figure skating, you meet Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and Feyre. After accidentally getting you in trouble with a teacher, Rhys invites you to a party to make up for it, and at the party you and Azriel end up getting a lot closer than you would’ve imagined.

~ Insufficient | Azriel/Eris x Reader 🥀🥀

Summary: After a few months of dating, your relationship begins to crack, and the truth behind Azriel’s odd behavior comes out.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ To Be Known | Azriel x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: You’ve always been afraid to confess to Azriel about your feelings for him, but after a hookup gone wrong, everything begins falling apart, and he’s there to pick up the pieces.

~ Subservient | Azriel x Orphan!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Rhys’ reputation in Hewn City is less than stellar, so when an orphanage becomes overwhelmed, he offers to take some in. His plan doesn’t turn out how he expected when he’s instead sent you, an employee there, sent to scope Rhys out before sending children to him. And in true High Lord fashion, he unceremoniously dumps you off on his brothers.

Cassian

~ Put Back Together | Cassian x Nurse!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After the recent attack on Velaris, you, a nurse, find yourself struggling with all the death surrounding you. However, Cassian is always there to put you back together.

~ Just This Once | Cassian x Witch!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After a witch has been discovered in Windhaven, Cassian has been sent to bring the creature back, and ‘domesticate’ her, according to Rhys. It proves a difficult task, but he soon discovers that you aren’t as ‘strong and independent’ as you seem.

~ Cassian Hc’s 🌸🌼

Summary: How Cassian would interact and care for you, his teenage daughter.

~ Loving Lies | Cassian x Reader 🌸

Summary: Only a few days after the war with Hybern ends, Cassian discovers that you, the “male” that’s been his Second in Command for nearly a decade, are a female in disguise.

~ Beach Day | Cassian x Reader🌼🌼

Summary: During a lengthy visit to Day Court with the Inner Circle, so Rhys and Feyre can discuss political matters with Helion, you and the Inner Circle find more entertaining things to do, such as have a beach day.

~ Lazy Sunday | Cassian x Reader 🌹🌼

Summary: Lazy mornings with Cassian don’t always go as planned. Today is one of those days.

Rhysand

~ Never Again | Rhysand x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Rhys has been too caught up in his work lately, not giving you any of his time. After forgetting the date you'd both scheduled tonight, that was the last straw, and you go out with Azriel instead, only for Rhys to plead for your forgiveness.

~ Dreamers | Rhysand & Daughter!Reader🥀🌸

Summary: After Madja is away in business for two months, he has to find a healer to replace her in her absence, which happens to be you, his bastard daughter, and unbeknownst to him, Azriel’s mate.

~ Saving Grace | Rhysand x Reader 🥀

Summary: The war between humans and Fae is about to happen, and you, desperate to save Autumn Court, your home, from the destruction to come, are going to attempt a political alliance with the current High Lord of Night Court’s son, Rhysand.

Poly!Bat Boys x Reader

~ Insatiable | Bat Boys x Reader 🌹🌹

Summary: Rhys didn’t expect you, his mate, to have so much energy when the frenzy began, leaving him worn out, and so he calls Cassian and Azriel to come assist him.

~ Meaningful Mistakes | Azriel x Cassian x Reader🌹🌼

Summary: After what you had thought to only be a simple one night stand with Cassian and Azriel, you discover that you’re pregnant, and while delivering the news, the bond between the three of you snaps.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Eris Vanserra

~ A New Dawn | Eris x Reader 🥀🌼

Summary: Feyre grows closer to you, a close friend of Lucien’s, as you visit him while she’s in Spring Court. During that time, she learns of you being given to Eris as a servant by Amarantha, but no one could’ve suspected how deep the relationship between you and the Autumn Court heir went.

~ An Exchange in Etiquette | Eris x Reader 🌼🥀

Summary: When a poorly mannered royal his age shows up at the ball, teenage Eris can’t help but take pity on her, offering a deal, that he give her a lesson in etiquette, in exchange for a lesson in defiance.

Lucien Vanserra

~ Missing You | Lucien x Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: After coming back home from a long trip to Autumn Court due to his emissary duties, Lucien is exhausted, but still more than willing for whatever touch you’ll give him.

~ Distractions | Lucien x Reader 🌹

Summary: You’re struggling to write the script for the next chapter of your novel due to overthinking and self-doubt, and Lucien knows exactly how to distract you from it.

#acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #writers on tumblr #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fluff #cassian acotar #azriel fluff #poly!batboys #rhysand x reader

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 3 months

Text

Asmodeus NSFW alphabet

Fuck you, I'm tagging myself in this one. This one is a gift to myself @luceafarul-de-dimineata

Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

It doesn't matter who topped and who subbed, this man will take care of you after sex. He gives the best aftercare out of all the demons since he's got the most experience out of them all. He'll stay with you until you fall asleep in his arms. And because he's a gentleman unlike another demon king, he'll be there the next morning as well.

Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

His favorite body part of his is his hair. You cannot convince me that this man doesn't use half of his country's budget on hair treatments and oils. He has the silkiest hair known to mankind and he loves when you play with it.

Asmodeus loves every part of you. He just loves humans. If he had to choose it would be legs. Thighs, calfs, feet, he's not a pussy, he loves it all. He loves bitting down on them and leaving you covered in bite marks and hickies on your inner thighs.

Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is so fertile it can overide birth-control. Also its a cure for his horny poison. So, if you can get pregnant and you sleep with Asmodeus, you will get pregnant with his spawn. It's fine, he's a good father.

Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secrets are for losers. I guess the closest thing to a dirty secret would be that he likes poisoning his partners before sex. Makes it more primal, more desprate. You're no longer fucking for pleasure, you're doing it for survival. It's not really a secret though because he'll admit to it if asked.

Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

... do I really need to answer this one? He has had sex with half of the human population. He has more experience than would be possible for a mortal. Since it could get up he's been fucking daily.

Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves all possitions, but he really likes breeding press. It has breeding in the name, of course he'd like it. But he will never complain about any possition. Inspite of his age he's one flexible geezer so he can pull out the weirdest positions with no problem

Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?)

It depends on what you want, but he enjoys making you nervous with his teasing. He can't stay serious for long, he just likes teasing and taunting too much. If he's a sub, he'll be a brat, if he's a dom he'll edge you for an hour.

Hair (how well groomed are they?)

He likes to cut his pubes in different cute shapes - hearts, stars, he once tried to do the Mona Lisa. He'll never fully shave or let a full bush grow. He washes his pubic hair after every sex session.

Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Asmodeus is romantic the whole way through. You will be wined and dined before he picks you up bridal style and lays you on the bed. The stripping is his favorite part, he loves pealing off every layer of cloth you have on while kissing every inch of skin that gets revealed.

Fucking Asmodeus is the most loved you have feeled in your life.

Jack Off (masturbation headcanons)

He only masturbated during maternity leave. He could barely sleep when Dantalian was little and crawling all over the place, much less have nice 4 hour long sex with a lover. So during bathroom breaks he would rub it quickly and go back to his son. After Dantalian turned 3 year old he started leaving him with the other kings so he could go see his human partners again, so he stopped masturbating.

Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Where do I even start with this one. He tried them all and he's willing to do them again. It's very hard to surprise him with something sexual. You know what, put a pin in this one, I'll make a post with only his kinks (tldr: he likes humans. A lot)

Location (favorite place to do the do)

He would rather go someplace intimate during the more passionate sessions, but another one of his favorites is your ex's bed. It's funny, ok??? Don't judge him. Even if you aren't ex's he wants to fuck you on the other kings' beds as well. The possibility of getting caught excites him to the very core. His curious how they'll react finding their least favorite person fucking their precious child of Solomon. It doesn't matter if they get angry, he'll just use his poison and make them take their anger out in a different way.

Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You specificly. He absolutely adores humans, finds them the most interesting beings out there and he'd rather fuck a human than his own kind. BUT, he fucking hated Solomon. He put him in a jar, damn it! Yeah, they did fuck and kiss but they hated eachother. Enemies and lovers. And he kind of misses having a guy to annoy 24/7 consequence free. This all changed when you came to hell. He's chilled out a lot since Solomon died, but being able to make love to one of his rival's children is a thought that always gets him going.

No (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

...Not to get canceled or anything, but I'm pretty sure this guy tried sticking it in everything at some point. Including more illegal stuff. It's fine! He's not going to do it again! He has learned his lesson, Princess Celestia, put that gun down!

He won't fuck you if you're one of his decendent. And he won't have a threesome with Dantalian involved. There, those are the two lines he won't cross. He's seen what incest can do even to royal blood.

Oral (preference in giving or recieving, skills, etc.)

He likes giving more. But he's a fucking bitch about it. For Asmodeus, oral is both forplay and aftercare, but it's never the whole sexual experience for the night. He either starts the night by giving you the most maticulate oral imaginable or he eats out all the cum he's fucked into you for the last three hours. Remember, the hornier you get, the hornier he gets, the difference is only in stamina. He'll pull the "you wanted me to give you oral but you never mentioned for how long. Be more specific next time, bunny."

Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

He likes it slow and sensual. He's not rushing anything. The slower, the better. He knows human limits better than anyone else, so he knows he won't be able to fuck you for as long as he would like (read: always and forever) so he wants to feel you around him for as long as possible. He doesn't fuck, he makes love.

Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often)

He doesn't like to rush things. I mean, yeah, there's a war in his country but pffff, who gives a shit about that. He might have a quickie before a very important meeting with the other kings. Then again, "quickie" for Asmodeus is about half an hour, so prepare yourself.

Risk (are they willing to experiment? Do they take risks?)

He has tried everything but humans are so fun and unique that he wants to try them on again. He has a book with all the sex possitions he's tried before and he ranks them on how pleasurable, relaxing, romantic and aesthetic they are, so he'll use all of them on you and then try to find some new ones. He's imortal but the world around him isn't, and he wants to have a taste of it all.

Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Each round is about 5 minutes and he can go for as many rounds as you'd like. Trust me, when it comes to sex, you are not outlasting the pro. He used to cum faster, but he got better at holding it in for longer with time. If it weren't for the fact you have to do stuff outside the bedroom he would have kept you on his dick 24/7

Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partener or themselves)

There'a no sex toys in Hell... except in the castle of Abaddon. He spent the most time with humans and he got to see all the nifty little inventions they've got up there. He would never tell the other kings because either they'll make fun of him for not being able to cum without plastic (false, sex toys weren't made of plastic when he first shoved a plug up his ass) or they'll try to get on the trend. He's very secretive about his collection, not even his nobles or son know about it. You're the very first he shows it to... before proceeding to try them all out on you

Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Making people nervous is his hobby. No matter his place in the sheets, he'll be teasing the whole way through. The only way to stop his mouth from running is to gag him, but not even that would stop him. Actions speak louder than words, and he can do a lot with his body even if he's tied up.

Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

He talks constantly. He teases you, praises you, degrades you, calls you every nickname under the sun. His moans are almost melodic and he makes weirdly sexual sounds even in non-sexual situations. For exemple, when he's excited he lets out a deep whimper that almost sounds like a purr. His laugh is almost that of a hyena's and he sometimes quietly hisses when something displeases him.

Wildcard (a random headcanon for the character)

He sucked his own dick once. He's very flexible and his dick is just big enough that if he bend at the right angle he can suck his tip. He used to do it as a party trick back when Beelzebub and Mammon used to invite him to parties.

X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

His clothing leaves little to the imagination, but he might humor the notion of wearing some actual clothes from time to time. He's exactly 20 cm long but it lacks girth. His tip is almost like an arrow and it's much redder than the rest of his penis.

Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Very. But he can be surprisingly chill if need be. He's not like his citizens, he can actually have a non-sexual relationship if you do not want that. He's pliant to your desires, but always know that if you aren't going to fulfill his sexual desires, he'll find another way to do so.

Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep cuddled up to you. He loves having your face pressed to his chest as he plays with your hair and you play with his. You both fall asleep at about the same time, your hearts in sync as you fall into slumber.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb asmodeus #whb x reader #whb smut #i'm home :D #if I don't post the asmodeus k!nk list in a week please remind me

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highladyandromeda · 6 months

Text

Shadows of the Heart

Part 5

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions.

WC: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of blood, self-inflicted injury, a brief moment with unhealthy thoughts about body image (this is specifically marked with 1 star (*) at the start and 2 stars (**) at the end), unhealthy thoughts about pushing oneself too far

[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4]

Y/n was exhausted.

She could feel her muscles ache as she dipped deeper into the bath the house had drawn for her. The smell of tuberose and neroli drifted up from the bubbles surrounding her, the perfectly warm temperature adding to the pleasant atmosphere.

Yet she couldn’t get herself to relax a drop. Come to training, they said…it’ll be fun, they said…what liars, she thought.

Who invites an injured and recent coma patient to train, at dawn no less? Isn’t this the bloody Night Court? Y/n fumed, why do they all wake up so early now?

A glass of wine appeared by her side as if the house sensed her irritation as well.

Sighing she picked it up, and finished it immediately, a bottle appearing once she placed the glass down. She let out a laugh, wondering if she should feel offended that the house assumed her morale was so low. As if understanding her thoughts, a bottle of whiskey appeared and disappeared next to the wine, before a series of books dropped down. Judging by the titles and bits of conversation from last night, Y/n had a feeling the house was using a…tried and tested method of comforting raging females.

And speaking of rage, she was quickly losing the high of recusing Mor and returning to Velaris. Yes, she was exhilarated to see her family thriving, but the duties she had would quickly catch up to her. Counting down, it had been nearly 3 weeks since she disappeared from Vallahan and the magic tower must be getting frantic now. Not to mention, Demetrius, who’s sure to assign her so much work, that she’d not have a chance to leave the tower once she’d returned, or Ryder, who’s definitely praying that she’s dead in a ditch somewhere. Y/n knew she could use the investigation for the cult, the same cult she felt poisoned Mor, as her cover, but that excuse could only hold for so long.

Ugh. Stupid Rhys and his stupid bargains. She hoped Demetrius would receive her message fast enough, the only reason she forced herself to the training ring before sunrise. Her mediation session was a chance for her to send a holo projection to Demetrius’s office. The time-consuming aspect was not bypassing the wards of the house, which she should actually speak to Rhys about strengthening, but rather condensing her…situation and what she wanted him to do, as to expel the least amount of energy. Teleportation with blood meant her magic would take a longer time to recover. Besides, the last thing she needs is someone sensing her magical signature in the tower when she's been away for so long.

Luckily, she was able to mask her communications from the IC with her subsequent spar, which she convinced herself was necessary. It wasn’t because the moment she locked eyes with Azriel, she had this urge, this desperate desire to know what it would be like to go one-on-one with him.

No, she only offered because she knew she could last as the participant of a spar, rather than give up control for exercises or obstacles which would reveal her current weaknesses. She refused to think further on how beautifully he moved and met all her strikes, and how pretty he looked under her–No, think Vallahan, magic tower, angry masters….

Just recounting it all was giving her a headache, Y/n thought, dunking her head underneath the water. She almost wishes it could swallow her whole right there, and give her a reprieve from this.

She came back up gasping, water sloshing onto the floor.

*Y/n grabbed a towel, standing up and deciding that she might go too far should she stay in there any longer. She faced the mirror while drying herself off, looking closely at how prominent her collarbones were and how her ribs hit out. She looked away, trying to bury the simultaneous discomfort and pleasure she felt, the same as the morning when she changed into her leathers and needed to tighten them with her magic.

Y/n knew that she looked unhealthy and her magic could only take her so far if she let her body fail, but a voice at the back of her mind enjoyed the visuals, a lasting validation of her struggles. With her magic usually healing her immediately, Y/n rarely got the chance to convey her struggles, always pushing forward since it seemed the pain was never there in the first place. She briefly wondered if Azriel would understand, he seemed to know that sort of darkness, of both craving and despising it. **

Feeling a bit claustrophobic, she decided to step out onto a balcony before dinner, knowing that everyone would be there after she missed lunch. Though she could already feel her appetite disappearing at the thought of facing Amren and Nesta’s piercing gazes, not to mention Mor and Rhys’s overt concern. She raised a hand to her head, trying to rub away another impending headache before halting right at the balcony entrance.

Mother above, Y/n felt herself freeze in horror, unable to look away from the smeared and dried runes. All in blood, all in her blood. No wonder she slept for so long if she kept losing even more blood after this she thought, a cold dread settling in her bones.

Why is it still here…The thought that Rhys might hesitate to erase them, out of fear or respect, and that Amren and Nesta might see them as a curiosity to be studied, only deepened her sense of isolation. How could they not see the horror in what those runes represented?

The world began to tilt, a disorienting spiral that made her stomach churn. The vast sky above seemed to press down on her, the air growing thick and heavy, a physical force that threatened to crush her.

"Are you okay?" The concern in the question was palpable, but it only served to startle her further.

Cauldron boil me, Y/n thought, spinning around so quickly her knees gave way beneath her. But before she could fall, strong, calloused hands steadied her, the familiar touch of shadows wrapping around her with an almost protective embrace. She didn't need to see his face to know who it was—the shadows were a signature she'd come to recognize.

"Y/n, are you alright? You seem faint," the voice came again, soft and concerned, lifting her gently until she was forced to meet his eyes—hazel orbs filled with a depth of concern and understanding that momentarily stilled the chaos within her.

It was a connection, fragile and fleeting, but in that instant, Y/n realized she wasn't as alone as she had felt. The shadows that enveloped her, the hands that steadied her—they were a lifeline, pulling her back from the edge of her own darkness.

She swore time stopped for a moment before she felt the hands around her quiver, his gaze drifting to the runes behind before her actions caught up to her. It was then that reality snapped back into focus for Y/n, prompting her to instinctively step back and slip out of his gentle grasp.

In her quick withdrawal, an attempt to shield her sudden vulnerability, she missed the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed Azriel's features. Y/n hurriedly filled the silence that had grown between them.

"We shouldn't keep them waiting" she announced, her voice carrying a forced lightness that couldn't quite mask the disquiet lurking beneath. Her smile, tentative and fleeting, was an attempt to hide the depth of her unease from Azriel’s perceptive gaze.

Dinner was a silent affair, the burning stares and questions on Y/n waiting to reach the surface, especially after her display earlier that morning.

Each forkful of food echoed louder than usual until Amren, with her characteristic bluntness, pierced the quiet. "Y/n, the blood magic you used before...how did you know about it? "

Cassian, unable to resist adding to the conversation, jumped in with a grin. "Yeah, the teleportation was so cool! Are you part-witch?"

Amren's sharp glance cut him short. "She's a sorceress, you oaf. Obviously, she's mastered more than a few ancient tomes."

As Nesta voiced her curiosity, "Mastering tomes? What does that mean?" Cassian overlapped with, "How did you even find Mor?" The barrage of questions seemed to only spiral from then, with several of them wanting details on her magic and her discovery of Mor.

Amidst the several inquiries, Azriel, ever attuned to Y/n, noticed the tremble in her hands hidden under the table, a stark contrast to the calm facade she presented. His shadows stirred restlessly, a mirror to his growing concern.

Mor's complexion turned ashen as the fact dawned upon her—Y/n had ventured onto the balcony, the very place of their nightmarish ordeal. Attempts to steer the tide of questions fell on deaf ears, "Y/n, I... we didn't think..." Mor’s voice trailed off, her apologies swallowed by the growing fervor of curiosity.

Y/n took a deep breath, attempting to veil her frustration with patience, a task made increasingly difficult. They meant well, she repeated, she owed Rhys, she thought before the noise got to her. She hated being faced with curiosity and pity just as much as she hated being questioned–she had saved Mor and shown she wasn’t their enemy, wasn’t that enough?

With a huff that signaled her surrender to the inevitable, she pushed her chair back, its screech halting the interrogation, and drawing surprised glances from the table. Rising from her seat, she walked away, leaving a trail of astonishment in her wake.

Azriel reacted with swift concern, following her with a worry that mirrored the concern etched on Rhys, Mor, and even Feyre and Lucien's faces, while Cassian remained behind, a shadow of guilt tinging his features.

Y/n paused for a moment at the split between the staircase and the hallway to the balcony, debating the merits of locking herself in her room. She felt she deserved the right to scream into her pillow before rejoining them.

But the sound of footsteps behind her reminded her of the nosey nature of her friends here. If she tried to hide, there’d be no telling the lengths they’d go, she may as well just complete it now.

Upon reaching the balcony, Y/n summoned her magic, materializing a dagger in her hand. With a steady hand, she made a precise incision along her arm, her expression unflinching as crimson blossomed against her skin. She cast a fleeting glance at Azriel, her vibrant red eyes catching the light, mesmerizing him as her blood began its descent toward the magic circle below.

His shadows twitched uneasily at the sight; the others, having followed, stumbled into a collective pause, caught in a mix of awe and horror as they watched her blood reanimate the runes. Y/n commanded the runes to levitate, dripping and spinning around before she condensed them into a single, blood-diamond-like point, which then vanished within her grasp. Turning to face them with a smirk, she downplayed the gravity of her demonstration.

"See? Not a big deal," she stated, though her casual dismissal did little to ease the tension.

Azriel, moving with a purpose, reached for her, his shadows conjuring a cloth to softly wipe the blood, still dripping from her arm, away. The gentleness of his touch left Y/n taken aback, her heart skipping a beat at the care with which he wrapped her arm, his shadows having brought bandages as well. She couldn’t remember the last time someone else had treated her wounds, especially those so insignificant, so kindly.

Meeting his gaze, she was confused at his crossed expression, but before words could form, Mor enveloped her in an embrace, her apologies spilling out in a hurried flurry.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I should've—" Mor's voice cracked, the weight of her remorse tangible in the air between them.

"It wasn't your fault, Mor," Y/n reassured, her arms wrapping around her friend in a firm hug. "I would do it all over again for you," she whispered a vow that drew a fresh wave of tears from Mor, her embrace tightening in response.

As they finally parted, Lucien's voice cut through the momentary silence. "I must say, your control was impressive back there."

Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes, a playful retort on her lips. "I've always been this good, Lucien. Maybe you just weren't paying attention."

His laughter echoed around them, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "Is that so? We should spar sometime then. Test out that control of yours."

Y/n pretended to be annoyed but she was grateful to him for changing the atmosphere. Lucien always knew how to put others at ease.

"Sure if you think you can keep up. Feyre, you're welcome to join his side. He'll need all the help he can get."

Rhys chimed in with feigned indignation, "And why am I excluded? My mate should be my partner."

Y/n's laughter mingled with theirs, and her spirits momentarily lifted. "Because I've beaten you too many times, Rhys. It wouldn't be fair." She teased, earning a gasp of mock indignation from him.

Their laughter was a balm, easing the tension that had settled over the dinner.

Walking back, Y/n glanced at Lucien with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Resting her hand lightly on his shoulder, she leaned closer, her voice laden with playful intent. "Looks like we're teaming up then" she teased.

A knowing smile danced across Lucien's lips, a silent agreement forged in the span of a heartbeat. Together, they proclaimed, "We'll scatter them like leaves in a storm!"

The statement, filled with the memory of past battles, echoed around them, their laughter a symphony of friendship and challenge.

Feyre, caught in the ripple of their amusement, couldn't help but interject with a wry smile. "Well, I guess I'm stuck with Rhys then." Her words, light and teasing, were accented with the unbreakable bond she shared with her mate, even as they prepared to face off in friendly competition.

All the while, Azriel's gaze lingered on the casual touch between Y/n and Lucien, their laughter and the seamless harmony of their declaration stirring an unfamiliar pang within him. His stare was intense and unyielding, as he watched the easy rapport they shared—a connection he found himself envying, as he stood silently on the fringes of their banter.

Azriel's desire to offer Y/n the same sense of belonging and ease was palpable, yet he chose the quiet acts that spoke volumes of his intentions. As they walked back to the dining room, he found an opportunity to express his support. With a gentle touch, he slid Y/n's chair out for her, a gesture of silent solidarity that sought to make her feel seen and valued in the way he knew best.

"Thank you," she whispered, her gratitude a soft note amidst the evening's chaos of emotions. Though her gaze briefly wandered back to Lucien, caught in a moment of quiet tension with Elain, it was Azriel's thoughtful action that anchored her.

Amren's voice drew her back. "I’m sure you created quite the spectacle, sorceress”

In response to Amren's observation, Y/n met her gaze firmly. "I don't owe anyone explanations, Amren…But out of gratitude for the welcome back," she paused, weighing her next words carefully, "I will tell you that yes, I am a sorceress. A highly ranked one, at least in Vallahan’s magic tower."

Her eyes flickered to Mor, a silent pact of trust between them. She wouldn't reveal the intricacies of their reunion—how a royal meeting had spiraled into chaos and Mor's dismissal of her warnings had nearly cost them both dearly.

"Part of my work has led me to investigate a cult revering Koschei, a dark sorcerer," Y/n continued, her voice steady despite the weight of her revelations. "It was through this that I found Mor in danger. The use of blood magic wasn't a choice made lightly. It was the only method swift and silent enough to ensure our immediate return without leaving traces of magic that could be tracked. And given Mor's poisoning, traditional portals I could open—with their elongated passage of time—weren't an option."

The table fell silent, the gravity of her words settling heavily upon them. Each member of the Inner Circle sat a little straighter, their expressions alight with a mixture of awe and deepened as she explained further about her work and magic. The dinner conversation, initially subdued, blossomed into a vibrant exchange of stories and insights.

Lucien, seizing the moment, shared his own adventures and the bond he'd formed with Vassa, expressing a hopeful desire to introduce them, perhaps as a means to unravel the curse that bound the queen.

It was then that Rhys saw an opening, his voice slicing through the conversation with a proposal for Y/n. "Y/n! This is the perfect opportunity, if you feel up to it, why don't you continue your research here?"

Before Rhys could elaborate, Mor chimed in, eager to offer the resources at their disposal. "Exactly, the House of Wind has a wealth of books that could aid in your research. I can ask the priestesses to help—"

"I can help. You." Azriel's voice, cutting through Mor's suggestion, carried an uncharacteristic nervousness. "I mean, in your research. I can help you with the research." The room fell into an unusual silence, all eyes turning to him as he attempted to clarify, "If you're conducting research, that is. I don't want to rush you, of course. You need time to recover. I'm just—uh—offering since I have experience with such investigations... not to say you need my help. I—I thought it might be... more efficient, yes..."

Azriel's voice tapered off, his gaze skirting around the table to avoid Cassian and Nesta's barely concealed smirks and Rhys's poorly disguised cough of amusement. The surprise etched on everyone else's faces spoke volumes, each one silently wondering if they had ever witnessed Azriel speak so awkwardly and at length.

"Oh, I'd appreciate the company, Azriel," Y/n finally responded, her tone warm.

"You would?" Azriel's gaze snapped to Y/n, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes, only to be momentarily dimmed by her stern look toward Rhys. "Since I'll be intruding for the foreseeable future, I might as well be productive."

"I—I wouldn't want to invade, though," Azriel hurried to add, the earnestness in his voice unmistakable.

Rhys couldn't hide a snicker, quickly masked by a sudden straightening in his chair, bouncing his right leg up.

Azriel’s shadows whispered something about a kick, but his attention was already captured by Y/n's soft smile. "I'd welcome the help," she reassured, her simple acceptance igniting a spark of anticipation in Azriel.

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, I was traveling and then dying with studies. But the plot thickens...Are we curious about Y/n's work as a sorceress? I planned out the next scenes on my flight so I should have the next few chapters up in a faster succession.

And thank you to everyone who's liked/commented/reblogged this story -- it means so much to have you all enjoy this!

For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕

TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains @jaybarding @kalulakunundrum @sevikas-whore @katherinejess @acphengene @thisiskaylin

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #azriel x y/n #acotar series #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel x oc #rhysand #morrigan #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #lucien vanserra

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seriiousgiirl · 4 months

Text

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖎𝖓𝖊.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭!𝓐𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻. ⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ❛ You lied to me! I did. You poisoned me! I did. You said you loved me! I do. �� After the death of your father, you are thrown into the bustling town of Baldur's Gate, leaving behind the peaceful country manor you called home. Eager for a taste of freedom, you slip away one night and find yourself rescued by the enigmatic Lord Ancunin. As you spend more time with him, you learn of his links with the mysterious Duke Szarr and his own secrets. As a result, you find yourself entangled in a web of deceit and betrayal. But as the truth unfolds, amid whispers of scandal and echoes of forgotten secrets, lies the key to your salvation - or your downfall. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱. ⊹ ₊ ݁. regency!au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, tension, mutual pining, angst, smut will happen later, age difference, forced marriage, gothic setting. Hello everyone! It's been a while since I've written for the public, but I hope it'll be OK. :) After binge watching Bridgerton and rewatching Crimson Peak, I thought an AU with Astarion would be perfect. Enjoy!!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The grand oak doors of Thornfield Manor creak open for what you know will be the last time. A gust of wind, carrying the chill of an early spring morning, sweeps through the entrance hall. You clutch your mother’s hand, seeking comfort in the warmth of her touch, though her face is a mask of composure, betraying no hint of the turmoil you know brews within her.

After all, Father's sudden passing has left you in a state of shock and uncertainty.

The estate, with its sprawling gardens and serene countryside views, is now a mere memory, a chapter of your life that has been abruptly closed. With your elder brother away on military duty and the estate debts proving insurmountable, there was no choice but to seek refuge in the city.

And for that, your mother had plans, and the most important one was to find you a husband. If you were honest with yourself, you would have preferred that your mother had died instead, but that thought was forbidden. You knew that your father who had always shown you warmth and kindness, would have never wished for that kind of marriage for his beloved daughter—but he wasn’t here anymore to contest your mother’s decision.

As the carriage rattled down the cobblestone path leading away from your beloved Thornfield, you cast one last, lingering glance at the manor. The ivy-clad walls seem to whisper farewells, and the distant hills, where you had spent countless afternoons in joyous exploration, stand as silent sentinels of a life left behind.

Your destination is Baldur's Gate, a bustling city known for its mercantile prowess and vibrant social scene. The city looms ahead, a stark contrast to the tranquility of your rural home. You had visited Baldur's Gate but once before, as a child, and the memory of its crowded streets and imposing architecture fills you with a mix of trepidation and reluctant curiosity.

Mother squeezes your hand, pulling you from your reverie. "We must be strong, Y/n," she says, her voice steady yet tinged with a sorrow that mirrors your own. "Baldur's Gate may not hold the peace of Thornfield, but it will offer us opportunities.” By ‘opportunities,’ you knew she meant a noble man to marry. And, you also knew that you had little or no say in who it’ll be.

“We shall endure this, together."

“Yes, mother.” You nodded, though your heart ached with the weight of your loss.

The city, with its promise of new beginnings, felt both a blessing and a burden. What awaited you in the bustling streets of Baldur's Gate, however, you could not say…

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It had been a week since you arrived at your new house in the city, and to your surprise, integrating into high society wasn't as hard as you might have imagined. Your father had left a positive impact on his Thornfield wine business, which smoothed many social pathways. Your family name carried weight, opening doors that might have otherwise remained closed.

The house itself was grand, located in a prosperous district, with wide windows that overlooked bustling streets. From the confines of your room, you observed the city’s vibrant life. Baldur's Gate was a place of diversity and wonder. Elves with their ethereal grace, dwarves bustling about their trades, drows with their mysterious allure, and even Tieflings, with their exotic and often misunderstood appearances, filled the streets below. Yet, you experienced this only as a distant observer, confined by your mother's strict rules.

Your mother, with her cold demeanor, had forbidden you to venture outside until the wedding season began. "It wouldn't do for you to be seen mingling with common folk," she had said, her tone brooking no argument.

The days were monotonous and long—very long, filled with preparations for the social season. You spent hours with dressmakers, trying on elaborate gowns, and with tutors, brushing up on etiquette and dance.

Perhaps if your mother had been more aware of your need to see the outside world, you would have never found yourself in this situation. Late at night, as the city slumbered, you found yourself wandering the unfamiliar streets alone, without a chaperon or a maid to accompany you.

It was a reckless act, one born out of a desperate longing for freedom.

You had always been like that, even in the peaceful countryside surrounding Thornfield Manor. An adventurous spirit, yearning to explore beyond the familiar boundaries of home, you often found solace in wandering the forests alone and in the dappled sunlight filtering through the tree.

But the city was a different beast altogether.

The streets of Baldur's Gate took on a different character under the cloak of darkness. Shadows danced along the cobblestones, and the faint glow of lanterns cast eerie shapes against the walls of the surrounding buildings. It was dangerous, you knew, for a young woman of your standing to venture out unaccompanied.

You told yourself it was curiosity that led you here, a desire to explore the streets that had been forbidden to you by day. But in truth, it was something deeper, a yearning for independence…

The city was a maze of winding alleys and hidden courtyards. You passed taverns alive with music and laughter, and dimly lit shops adorned with treasures from distant lands. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and sea salt. As you turned down a narrow alleyway, you caught sight of movement in the shadows ahead.

Instinctively, you froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

A ragtag group of drunken men emerged from the shadows, their laughter loud and lewd. They were a motley crew indeed, their clothes stained, their faces red and flushed from excessive consumption. At their head stood a particularly large man, his arms bulging with muscle, a thick beard hiding the lower half of his face.

Their eyes raked over your body, appraising you in a way that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You could almost feel their filthy thoughts, a cold shiver snaking its way down your spine.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the large man bellowed, his voice thick with drink.

"Hey there, sweetheart,"another one of them slurred, reaching out a hand to grab at your arm. "What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" The others chuckled, closing in around you, their foul breath making you recoil.

Their hands reached for you, grasping and groping, their touch repulsive and unwanted. “No, let me go!” You tried to push them away, but they were relentless. You felt your heart sink, fear gripping you like a vice. Just as you thought all hope was lost, a shadow detached itself from the wall behind you, a tall figure emerging from the darkness.

His gaze was hard and unyielding as he surveyed the scene before him. His clothes were finely made, a stark contrast to the ragged group that surrounded you. He was handsome, his features sharp and angular, his eyes as red as ruby itself.

"Step aside, gentlemen," he said, his voice low and commanding.

The men snarled, but his demeanor was intimidating, and they reluctantly parted, allowing him to stand before you, his hands finding their place on your hips. "Are you alright, miss?" he asked, his concern dramatic but evident.

You nodded, swallowing hard, your heart still pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of it a comforting contrast to the cold hand that had moments ago crept up your thigh.

"Thank you," you whispered, the words barely audible.

He offered you his arm, helping you to slip yours through it. "Let us take our leave from this place before further trouble arrives, it would be embarrassing for a lady like you to see more of this world of debauchery, wouldn't it?”

You nodded, grateful for his intervention and eager to put the unsettling encounter behind you. "Yes, please," you agreed, clinging to his arm as he guided you away from the shadows and back towards the safety of the main thoroughfare.

As you walked, he turned to you with a charming smile, his gaze warm and inquisitive. "Forgive me for prying, but are you new to the city?" he asked, his tone light with curiosity. "I feel certain I would have remembered such a pretty face."

You couldn't help but blush at the compliment, flustered by his attention. "Yes, we just arrived," you admitted, a hint of uncertainty in your voice. "We're staying in the...uh...West End district."

His smile widened, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Ah, the West End," he remarked. "A fine choice. It's fortunate for you that our paths crossed tonight. Allow me to see you safely home."

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to trust this stranger, but the sincerity in his gaze reassured you. "Thank you," you said again, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I would appreciate that."

The walk through the quiet streets of Baldur's Gate was surprisingly calm, the tension from the alley fading with each step. As you strolled, the distinctive scent of his cologne filled the air—a mix of bergamot, brandy, and rosemary that was both intriguing and comforting.

The gentleman beside you hummed a gentle tune, the melody soothing in the stillness of the night.

You found yourself relaxing in his presence, the fear and anxiety of earlier moments melting away. He maintained a respectful silence, his humming the only sound breaking the night's tranquility. As the familiar sight of your new home came into view, you felt a mixture of relief and disappointment—the walk had been unexpectedly pleasant.

Pausing at the gate of your residence, he turned to you with a concerned expression. "You should be more careful next time," he advised, his tone teasing but warm. He casually reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to gently wipe a smudge of dirt from your cheek. His touch was light, almost tender, and when he smiled, you thought you saw a flash of something unusual—were those fangs? You blinked, and the moment passed, leaving you to wonder if your imagination was playing tricks on you.

Then, with a gesture both casual and deliberate, he placed the handkerchief in your hand.

You felt the cool, smooth fabric of his glove brush against your skin as he pressed the handkerchief into your palm. The contact was brief, but the sensation of his fingers grazing yours sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. His touch was light yet lingering, creating a moment of intimate connection that left you breathless.

"You can keep it," he said, his voice soft but firm, the authority in his tone leaving no room for refusal.

"Thank you," you murmured, feeling a flush of embarrassment at the fuss he was making over you. Your fingers tightened around the handkerchief, the delicate fabric still warm from his touch. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure," he replied, his smile widening into a grin that was both charming and slightly unsettling. "I couldn't leave a lady in distress. Now, go inside and rest. The city can be a treacherous place after dark."

You nodded, grateful for his kindness despite the lingering mystery about him. As you turned to enter your home, you glanced back one last time. He stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlamps, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I didn't catch your name," you said, your curiosity piqued despite the urgency to retreat indoors.

He merely smiled in response, a knowing glint in his eyes. "It won't be necessary," he replied cryptically.

With a final nod, you slipped inside, bolting the door behind you.

Safe within the familiar walls, you leaned against the door, your mind racing with the events of the night.

Who was he?

❛ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ❜

#astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #balgur's gate 3 #alternate universe #crimson peak #regency #astarion x tav #cazador szarr

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huramuna · 10 months

Text

wine red, tears gold - chapter 1.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 4.6k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.

thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love <3 thank you @randomdragonfires for beta reading, mwah mwah.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn

its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski

chapter specific warnings: awkward sex, p in v, virginity loss

Every day felt like a new restraint, a new button added to the collar choking around Aegon’s neck. He had done it– he had freed the realm of the false queen, his half-sister– and lost almost everything to do so. When did it end? When did he get to relax and run the realm as he saw fit, since they so intended to have them at the helm. He wore the conqueror’s crown, wielded his sword and bore his name and yet he couldn’t do as the conqueror actually did. Rule. He felt more like a dog than a dragon these days; but that was just a pattern in his life. They wanted him when they needed him and he was to shoulder their burdens as eldest son.

His grandsire kept breathing down his neck to secure another wife, another heir, another alliance brokered with another pompous house.

“Listen to me, Aegon,” Otto began, his fingers laced together as he sat at his desk. He had summoned Aegon to the Tower of the Hand– he was summoning the King, rather than the King summoning him. Somehow, his council had let Otto weasel his way back into the position of Hand, Aegon’s mother in tears, pleading for it. There wasn’t anyone else fit for the job since Criston had died– and he was never really fit for it anyhow. “We must move quickly to provide you with a new wife. The realm won’t remain stable if we tarry in producing an heir for the throne.”

Aegon sat in the seat across from him, feeling more like a child than a King. He twisted the signet ring on his pinky finger. “It’s too soon. It would be an insult to Helaena.” he replied, not looking up at Otto. Helaena had only passed a few moons earlier and the wound was still fresh for all of them. Aegon never loved her like a wife– how could he, they were too different, too young– but he cared deeply for her as his sister and the mother of his children. Even thinking about taking another wife this soon felt like a betrayal. He would be like his father then.

A small huff and a rustling of papers was heard– Aegon was still too distracted by his signet ring, the thin light filtering through the half drawn blinds, causing a small glint off of the bronzed metal. He didn’t want to look up to see the expression on his grandsire’s face, he knew it was one of disappointment. Aegon couldn’t remember the last time that someone hadn’t looked at him with contempt, disappointment, melancholy.

“You must understand. You have a duty to the realm–”

“Fucking duty– don’t speak to me of it. I’ve done my duty for enough lifetimes. I let you put me on the throne and usurp my sister and look where that’s gotten us? Everyone is fucking dead, Otto. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Helaena, Aemond,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head up to meet the Hand’s gaze head on, “Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey– do I need to proceed? The majority of our bloodline is wiped out because of you and your ambition.”

Otto snorted, standing up from his desk slowly. He grabbed a decanter of wine, pouring them both a goblet. “You misunderstand. Everything I’ve done has been… for our family’s legacy– for the realm,” he placed the glass stopped back into the carafe, “Don’t you dare act as if I am not hurting for the loss of family– but war is war, boy. People die. It is unfortunate that… the ones close to us did. But we can’t live with our head in the clouds any longer, there is a realm to run and the crown comes with responsibilities. A wife and heir are one of those paramount responsibilities.”

“I have an heir. I still have one remaining child– Jaehaera is my heir. I deem it.” he spoke quickly, staring at the goblet of wine. He had reduced his intake of alcohol since the war ended– but the need for it was always there, always aching. He suddenly felt parched. Giving Otto a haughty stare, he took a sip from the glass, feeling his muscles instantly relax.

“Don’t be daft– have you so quickly forgotten what happened when the King last named a female heir?”

“It wasn’t that Rhaenyra was a woman, Otto. People would’ve learned to adjust if…” Aegon took another sip, clearing his throat, “If she hadn’t been infatuated with her freak of an uncle, you would’ve been able to control her easier, hm? It's always been you and mother behind the crown these past two decades– not me, nor my father.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Otto griped back, gripping his glass, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. Rhaenyra–” he stopped, taking a breath, “Rhaenyra is dead. They’re all dead, you’re right. But there is still the whole of the Seven Kingdoms requiring a leader, especially now. A leader with a united front with a queen and babe. I won’t argue further on this matter.”

Aegon acquiesced. He would rather deal with Otto’s venomous viper tongue talking him into things he didn’t want to do now instead of his mother visiting him hours later in hysterics– he couldn’t bear it. Alicent was more of a mess now than ever. “Fine. I leave this in your very capable hands,” he stood up, swiping the whole jug of wine, “At least find me a pretty one.”

–

She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.

The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.

Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes.

Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.

A rabbit begging for its life.

Borros Baratheon stood beside her, murmuring something into her ear. He was a boorish oaf of a man who couldn’t even read– Aegon wasn’t the brightest star in the sky when it came to matters of literature, that’d always been his brother’s realm, but atleast he could fucking read. He thought it quite hysterical that his house sigil was that of a Stag when Lord Borros reminded him more of a boar. Mayhaps he should change it.

As he continued to whisper to his daughter, her expression went from sordid to panicked, then back to sordid. She wasn’t very good at masking her emotions– she would need to learn if she were to survive at the Keep. The tips of her fingers twitched slightly and she was obviously holding herself back from tearing into her nail beds.

“Lord Borros,” Aegon broke the tension, “Perhaps I should show your daughter around the gardens while you speak with my grandsire. We have the most beautiful gardens here and I’d imagine that Storm’s End wouldn’t have something quite as grand,” he glazed over Borros’ blank stare, “due to the storms, of course.”

Lord Baratheon adjusted his doublet, which was far too small for him— did the Stormlands not have a proper fucking tailor? — and nodded, “Yes, that would be amicable. It would do some good to familiarize yourself with one another before the wedding in a week’s time.”

Aegon’s throat felt parched. He knew that they were speeding things along but he didn’t anticipate it to be this fast. Grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby servant, he descended back to Lyanna, intent on whisking her away as quickly as possible. Not because he found her particularly interesting, rather the opposite, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. The insistent thrum of his pulse in his neck was all too loud. His arm looped under Lyanna’s, “Come, my lady,” he hummed, trying to seem like he was somewhat collected and kingly and not on the edge of chugging the entire carafe of wine and smashing it over the next poor fucker’s head. “To the gardens.”

He practically strung along the poor girl, who hurriedly agreed and tried her best to keep up. “Y-yes, your grace,” she mewled, her feet tapping on the ground at irregular rhythms as she hung onto Aegon’s arm, bouncing against the stone walkway toward the gardens, “King’s Landing is… very beautiful, my king– your subject must be very pleased.”

As they descended the cobbled steps down to the garden, Aegon eyed her warily, “Did your father tell you to say that?”

“N-no, not exactly–”

“He did. Anyone with half of a brain and a working nose knows that this accursed city smells of shit. You shouldn’t lie, my lady. You’re quite bad at it,” he took a small breath as he looked at her expression– the poor thing was on the verge of tears. “You will get better in time,” he continued with a slightly softer tone, “This Keep is full of great liars and you don’t seem… too much like your father. I am sure you will pick up quickly. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, your grace.”

Aegon resisted giving a derisive snort, instead uncorking the wine bottle and tossing the stopper into the grass, “You’re quite young, then,” he took a swig, feeling the bitter tasting liquid coat his mouth, “All the better for heirs. Or so I’m sure that we’ve both been told.”

In truth, some would consider her a bit late in age to be married– but Aegon didn’t care as long as he wasn’t robbing the cradle like his father did to his mother, or Daemon to Rhaenyra. He was twenty-six himself and tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen; he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an exact memory. It was mostly a blur.

“I am… hopeful to provide you with many healthy heirs, my king,” she replied, her words sounding rehearsed. She is as poor of an actress as she is a liar, then. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands, “I… do not wish to replace the late queen, her grace, Helaena– I merely wish to fulfill my duty to the realm and my family– I am terribly… sorry to hear about Helaena, my king. As well as your prince brothers. War is a terrible thing.”

Aegon blinked profusely a few times. Her words after her pause sounded genuine– mayhaps she is capable of thinking for herself. She seemed… softhearted, even if a bit naive. He regarded the bottle in his hand for a moment, swishing it around. No one had really apologized to him for his losses– the enumerable amount of them he’s gone through these past few years. They all bowed their heads and wouldn’t meet his gaze, as if their blood was all on his hands. Mayhaps it was. He swallowed, his mouth pursed in a thin line, “... War is indeed a terrible thing, my lady.”

They walked for a few hours around the garden, talking about various things. Aegon still found her quite boring and uninteresting to look at– she wasn’t ugly by any means, and could be considered pretty, but she was just so terribly plain that it bored him to tears. Her speech was all faux and he tried to eek out any genuineness to her words through different subjects– all to no avail. It seemed the sore subject of Aegon’s family was the only thing to break her from her carefully crafted script.

Eventually, they parted ways– for the better, he thought. She was a fine match, a fine age, a fine vessel for his seed to produce a royal heir and whatever other innocuous thing his grandsire needed from him.

What a terribly dreadful life he’s let himself sink into.

That night, he drained two bottles of Dornish Red, falling much into the same state of mind he had when he was nineteen. Wandering to the Street of Silk, he whored and drank himself into a state of sloven mania.

In the midst of his drunken ramblings, he wondered if he could ever find someone who would truly love him or if his opportunity had already passed.

–

The wedding followed in the timeline that Borros and Otto had set– as quickly as possible. The council dipped into the coffers to make it happen, it was to be an extravagant event, a new beginning for the realm. Artisans, fine bakers and cooks were all hired to make the wedding a facet, stringing up red, green, yellow and black banners, making dozens of delicate pastries and even cooking six turduckens to line the tables.

It was all lavish and opulent– and Lyanna could not feel more out of place. The past week at the Keep had been a whirlwind of planning, gown fittings, flower picking. Her sisters were there in attendance, speaking up more than she on what to pick. It was fine with her, as she couldn’t bring herself to care for it. The gaudiness of it all made her feel ill.

She had only met with Aegon the one time, the first time. Lyanna felt she made a terrible impression— she was so nervous that day that she’d vomited twice that morning, all while her father screamed at her to get it right, to say exactly as he told her to. For the most part, she had done just that— played the perfect little puppet for him and said all those empty words that meant nothing.

She was meant to see Aegon at least three more times before the wedding, as there were a few dinners arranged between their two families. He had been absent for all, his mother citing that he was unable to attend for various reasons but nothing overtly specific.

Alicent Hightower was a nice lady— she was warm to Lyanna, talking to her at the dinners when no one else had bothered. She was the person who Lyanna felt most comfortable with in the Keep and was grateful that she was to be her good-mother. Alicent was a bit frayed at the ends from the loss of her other children; she was haunted, her eyes constantly red-rimmed and murmuring prayers under her breath.

The morning of the wedding, Lyanna was summoned to Alicent’s solar to get ready.

She knocked on the door, “Your grace— it’s Lyanna.”

“Come in, my dear,” she called out, a maid opening the door to let her in. “How are you feeling this morn?” Alicent was perched on the settee when Lyanna came in, and immediately rushed over to her, taking the young girl’s hands in hers.

“Quite nervous,” Lyanna responded, her hands quivering ever so slightly, even under the warm touch of Alicent. “May I speak plainly, your grace?”

“Of course,” she ushered Lyanna to the loveseat and had the maid pour them both tea, then promptly shooed her out. “It’s just us now, speak your mind, sweetling.”

“I-I am afraid that… Aegon will not like me. I fear I didn’t make a good first impression— he seemed quite bored of me.”

Alicent took a sip of her tea, giving a small sigh. “I will do you the favor of not sugarcoating words and speak plainly like you have done with me. Aegon will not like you,” she pursed her lips into a thin line, twisting the signet ring on her finger, “Aegon is a creature of debauchery and sin— and you are a good, pious girl. You are like oil and water.” her brown eyes met Lyanna’s, her expression softening. The two women had a fast camaraderie, praying together each morning in the Sept. “You… may not love him, or even like him— but there is a duty upon you to fulfill. It is a burden we carry as women, my dear. We are always behest to the men in our lives,” she stopped, her eyes glazing over with a far-away look, “I don’t mean to be discouraging. You are a… good hearted young woman and I believe you can channel that into something positive as the Queen.”

Lyanna felt her stomach quivering at Alicent’s words, her skin flushing. “I… appreciate your plain speech, your grace. I just… do not wish to displease him.”

Alicent’s mouth twitched at each end as if she were mulling something over. “It will be hard to please him, my dear. You are nothing like the women that usually please him,” she wiped a hand down her face, “You remind me so much of myself, Lyanna. Pushed into something you are… ill-suited for. You’re a sweet and kindhearted girl and I don’t wish for you to tear yourself apart on the inside and feel as if you’re not good enough for him– you are, you are too good for him, too pure, too-” Alicent took a measured breath, “You are not what he wants and you never will be, my dear. It will do you well to know that now rather than years later. There is always someone else in their eyes– women like you and I do what we can. I pray you will find things that keep you happy.”

Lyanna picked up her tea cup with trembling hands, taking a sip. There seemed to be more to Alicent’s words than them just being about Aegon– but she didn’t want to push it. Dipping her head, she thanked her good-mother-to-be once more.

–

“Wake up, wake up!” a voice boomed, rousing Aegon from his haze as a carafe of cold water was poured on him. The girl latched to his cock like a leech let out a shrill scream and scrambled away.

“Fucking hell– who the fuck?” Aegon slurred, blinking profusely half a dozen times before his vision came into focus. It was one of the Kingsguard, one more behest to his grandsire than him– and his grandsire, Otto, who had the now empty container of water in hand.

“Wake up, you ingrate,” Otto growled, grabbing his grandson by his collar, hoisting him up onto his feet, smacking his cheek gently. “Your wedding is in two hours and you’re passed out in a whorehouse. You’re the king, for the Seven’s sake– I thought you left this debauchery behind, atleast have your whores at the keep instead of being in these pits of sin.”

“You can put a number of different hats on a bear, you know,” Aegon slumped against the wall, “Many kinds of hats; a hood, a felted dante, a linen coif, a cowl, a straw hat, a jester’s garb– heh, that’d be quite funny–”

“Is there a point to your drunken babbling, Aegon?”

“Yes, ah– you can put many types of hats on a bear and change its look but at the end of the day, its still just a fucking bear,” he straightened out his stained tunic, “Point being– you can stick a crown on my head, put a sword in my hand and put me through a war to keep me on that fucking throne but guess what, grandsire, I am still just a bear at the end of the day.”

Otto stared at him, brow furrowed. “You aren’t a bear, you’re a dragon and a king, so act like it. You are getting married in two hours and you look like a sloven mess. You’re lucky that Borros is as blind for power and recognition as he is or he would take his daughter back to Storm’s End and you’ll be stuck with the next best choice.”

“That boring rube of a girl was my best choice? I must be fucked, then, either way.”

Otto and his Kingsguard dog dragged Aegon back to the keep, and observed while maids scrubbed him clean, red and raw. He was put in a nicely fit green suit, his House cloak strapped to his shoulders. It was a whirlwind of events that led up to the doors of the Sept being opened and Aegon ushered in.

His stomach churned and he felt sixteen again, forced to wed his sister. He remembered being hardly conscious throughout the ceremony, fumbling over his cloak and practically smothering Helaena in it.

He looked down the aisle at Lyanna, who was dressed in a pale yellow dress with long, flowing sleeves. She had a high collar with black lining and antler embroidery all over the garment. It was actually well fitted this time, likely thanks to his mother, and it turned out she actually had a figure, with plush hips and a well-endowed chest. Her brown hair was half up, half down with an assortment of intricate braids– it reminded him of how Rhaenyra used to wear her hair and he wondered who thought to style it like that, and he wondered if he was the only one who noticed.

As he walked down the aisle, he saw his mother in the front row– she was crying, thumbing a pendant in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star.

The ceremony was a blur to him, as he put the cloak over her shoulders and sealed their union with a kiss– a chaste one. She tasted like lavender tea. As he pulled back, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed with tears, and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his own eyes.

The feast was much the same, as he drank himself into a numbing stupor. He only had one moment of clarity, as some of the rowdy guests began to poke and prod at Lyanna, talking about the bedding ceremony. She looked visibly uncomfortable, picking at her nail beds under the table. Something about the sight of her discomfort and pain stirred something in Aegon that he couldn’t name– maybe he was feeling sentimental from the alcohol, but a surge of possessiveness flowed through him. He wasn’t known to be possessive, much the opposite in fact. But the egregious actions of these men pawing at his wife– their fucking queen, mind them– making disgusting insinuations. If she were a whore, it’d be different– but she was so… innocent, so coerced in all of this just as he was, it felt wrong.

Aegon snapped, slamming his cup down, “There won’t be any fucking bedding ceremony,” he growled, “My wife and I will be retiring to our chambers– alone. And if… any one of you lays another paw on her, you will lose it.”

Lyanna stared at Aegon, those huge brown eyes wide. Her lips were parted slightly as he once again strung her along the halls to his– no, their– chambers. She was shaking.

Once in their chambers, he let go of her, uncorking another bottle of wine and taking a swig. “I presume you think that this is where I will fuck you, hm? Stick my prick in you and make an heir and we will all live happily ever after like a child’s storybook.”

Lyanna stared down at her feet. “It… it would be… the duty of husband and wife to consummate–”

“Fuck duty! I’m not going to fuck some weepy eyed maiden because my old fuck grandsire said so. I don’t have need of you in that way.”

Her hands were trembling as she unlaced the back of her dress, her movements autonomous– she was doing what she thought she should be doing in this situation. She began to undress, slipping her gown off and leaving her in her silken shift, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The sight of her body, soft, stirred something within him for a moment, like a spark trying to ignite kindling.

“We don’t have to do this, Lyanna,” he murmured, using her name for the first time. He put down the wine bottle. “We can wait.”

“N-no! Please, I want to– please,” Lyanna whispered, practically pleading for it, as if she wanted to get it over with. “Please.”

Aegon rubbed a hand down his face. “Get on the bed then. Lie on your stomach.”

She did as she was told, laying flat on the bed on her stomach. She clutched some pillows as a lifeline.

He knew he should warm her up, he knew that they should want to touch one another, he should want to see her face– but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, or touch her for longer than was necessary. He barely shimmied down his trousers before he began poking at her entrance with a half-hard cock, partially trying to give her a moment to get used to the sensations, and partially trying to find where he was supposed to stick it– he knew, of course, he’d fucked his way through King’s Landing and then some, but he hadn’t fucked many maidens, and especially not when he was blind drunk.

Eventually, he hit home and slid into her, his movements slow at first. He could hear her whimpers and knew they weren’t of pleasure. It reminded him of his wedding night with Helaena where they’d both cried– all the memories of that night came flooding back, causing him to falter.

Lyanna looked back at him, her eyes puffy and red, “I-Is it over?”

Aegon swallowed sharply, cringing as he stared at her. The moment of arousal he had– purely from stimulation alone– was gone now, his half-hard erection deflating completely. “Fuck– yes, it’s over.” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that it in fact had hardly started before it was over– and not in the good way. He pulled out of her, taking in a deep breath as he walked to the water basin and soaked a cloth with warm water, offering it to her. “Wipe yourself– it will help with the… pain… and blood.”

She took the cloth, wiping away the remnants of their half-fulfilled consummation. “I-I’m… sorry,” Lyanna whispered, sniffling, “I know I am not what you want.”

His mouth was pulled into a thin line as he turned away. “You’re right. You aren’t.”

They fell into bed next to each other and Aegon’s mind was swimming as he tried to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted. He never wanted any of this– he just wanted to be a kid again with no responsibilities, with all of his siblings, even Rhaenyra– he would’ve… he would’ve been nicer to all of them, he wouldn’t of picked on Aemond, he would’ve gotten to know Rhaenyra better, he would’ve played with Helaena’s bugs, he would’ve taught Daeron all of the secrets of the castle. He would’ve told his grandsire to fuck off when they were to crown him and had Sunfyre char him to a crisp and given the crown to Rhaenyra.

He would’ve been loved then.

He just wanted to be loved.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #wine red tears gold

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tianasimstreehouse · 1 year

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Occult Recipebook

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble.

INTRO

Occult gameplay is up there with one of my favourite ways to play. Food is a part of our Sims lives, and should also be for occults so that they can cook up their preferred foods.

This Occult Recipebook is a collection of custom recipes (food and drink) for Occult Sims in the Sims 4.

I have started off this occult culinary journey with: ✨SPELLCASTERS✨

I have plans to later create foods for each occult life state, so I will keep adding to the recipe book.

“Spellcasters” as a life state can be played in so many different ways: they can range from gnarly evil witches who practice black magic and eat bird entrails, to happy little fairies who live in cottages surrounded by woods and flowers! I have tried to include a little bit of everything in the recipes I have created. These foods are a mix of fairy, fantasy, green garden witch, apothecary, or black-magic sorcerer etc.

They effect Spellcasters and/or human Sims in many weird and wonderful ways.

E.g. Nettle Tea which helps teenagers suffering with acne, Milk Thistle Biscuits which leave the consumer with prickly thistles in their tongue, and Eye of Newt Soup which most Sims will find disgusting but which Spellcasters will happily slurp up.

RECIPES

39 new recipes for your Spellcasters!

~ Realm of Magic is required for these recipes ~

**there's a fair amount of pack-integration, and be sure to read the pack recommendations on the Patreon post for each recipe** to make sure nothing is missing or glitching.

Meals Dandelion Salad - increases SCs gardening skill, fills PlantSims' hunger Nettle Soup Soft-Boiled Golden Eggs - makes Sims glow and glitter Pumpkin Pasties Pomegranate Halves Eye of Newt Soup - makes other Sims feel sick Valerian Root Pie - other Sims won't like this dish Elderberry Jam Toast Toadstool Soup - inspires SCs, normal Sims won't like this dish Salamander Stew - other Sims won't like this dish Spiced Honey Bread - SCs will gain all skills faster Raised Newt Pie - makes other Sims feel sick Dragon Livers - Werewolves will love these and normal Sims won't Raised Phoenix Pie - Sims will randomly breathe fire for a while and feel confident

Desserts Milk Thistle Biscuits - chance to get uncomfortable thistles in tongue Huckleberry Jam Cream Puffs - makes SCs playful Fairy Bread Soul Cakes Huckleberry Pie Juniper Berry Jam Biscuits Honeycomb Cakes - SCs will gain all skills faster Valerian Custard Tart Toadstool Cookies Cursed Cookies - wouldn't recommend eating these... serve them to enemies! Eating one may leave the SC eater cursed. Good Sims will sense the evil inside and get sad Canning *Requires Cottage Living Canning Skill Gooseberry Jam Elderberry Jam Rosehip Jelly Drinks *Bar/alcoholic drinks require Mixology skill, and a Bar. Acorn Coffee (*coffee machine) Pumpkin Juice Willow Bark Tea - A home remedy to cure most illnesses, food poisoning etc Sage Tea - soothes stress and anger, SCs are focused and improve logic skills faster Nettle Tea - helps teens suffering from acne Lavender Tea - makes Sims flirty Mugwort Tea - reduces fear or panic Butterbeer - gives SCs confidence Mandrake Ale Nettle Wine Dandelion Wine Elderberry Wine

INFO & DOWNLOAD (early access): https://www.patreon.com/posts/79514896?pr=true Milk & Cookies: Now! Sugar Cookies: May 24th Public: May 31st

Pro tip for Windows PC users: Please make sure to delete the MACOSX folders/files that can appear after you extract the mod's files, otherwise the game may throw an error and not load at all.

TRANSLATIONS Polish - ❤️ Daisy1728, find their translation over here French - ❤️ Heidi / LuniverSims, find their translation here

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denaliwrites · 11 months

Text

f i c m a s t e r l i s t

p o l i c i e s (please read before making requests!)

b a d s a m a r i t a n The Best of You, Honey, Belongs to Me Blackthorn Cover Myself in the Ashes of You Dumb Ways To Die Enough of You to Dull the Pain (18+) Hellbent Looking For A Godsend Hit Me With Your Best Shot I Got This Feeling On A Summer Day (18+) I'm Gooey in the Middle Baby Let Me Bake In His Eyes A Flaming Glow Intrigued and Afraid Keep You Like An Oath (18+) Killing Me Softly My Baby Shot Me Down (18+) Not Much Between Despair and Ecstasy (18+) Only Touch That Gets Me Melting (18+) Run Rabbit Run (18+) Say My Name Send a Thousand Kings Away Shia Surprise Something Good to Celebrate Stop, Look and Listen, It's Halloween! Taste of a Poison Paradise Trust in Me, Just in Me With Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart Your Body's a Secret Girl and You're About to Spill It (18+)

t h e b o y s Watch That Butcher Burn

b r o a d c h u r c h Always Leave Me With a Hungry Heart Am I Doing This Right? An Art to Life's Distractions Beating Like A Kick Drum Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do It's Been a Long, Long Time Love's Perfect Ache Now and Again We Try to Just Stay Alive Regale You With A Gourd-geous Tale Say You'll Remember Me Say You'll Remember Me (Denali's Version) Tell Me It's A Nightmare What My Heart Was Worth

d o c t o r w h o Cuddle, Meet Puddle Cute Things Don't Blink (Part 1) Don't Turn Your Back (Part 2) Don't Look Away (Part 3) Dreams See Us Through (Part 4) Hate the Feeling of Falling Have a Holly Jolly Christmas Horrible Things Isn't That Wizard It's How I'm Made Let Me Come Home Little Creepy House Love Letters On the Brave Shit The Origin of (Love Bug) Species What Beautiful Things I'll Wear When the Crypt Doors Creak You Know That I Would Jump Too

d u c k t a l e s Tales of Daring

g o o d o m e n s All I Want For Christmas Aziraphale's Favorite Author Dance on a Tightrope of Weird Free as My Hair His Love is All in Me How the Wine Plays Tricks on My Tongue Lockdown Blues Making Biscuits My Heart's a Stereo Naked in That Garden (18+) Out There Making DuckTales Pickin' Up the Pieces of the Mess You Made Road to Hell Something Meaty For The Main Course Step Too Far Tongue Tied Your Love is Holy (18+)

f a l l o f t h e h o u s e o f u s h e r Tomorrow I Shall Be Fetterless (18+)

f r i g h t n i g h t Emptiness to Melody Everybody Scream in Our Town of Halloween Fixed Up to the Nines Howl Like an Animal in the Darkness I'm So Hot I'd Fuck Myself (18+) I'm Starvin', Darlin', Let Me Put My Lips to Somethin' Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (18+) Make Me Glow Night of Long Fangs (18+) Parade of Dancing Skeletons Talk So Pretty (18+) Who Are You Supposed To Be, Criss Angel? (18+)

h a u n t i n g o f b l y m a n o r ???

j u r a s s i c p a r k / w o r l d Best Behavior The Future Ex Mrs. Malcolm

p r o d i g a l s o n But Then My Stupid Phone Beeps Never Fallen From Quite This High Office Supplies Rude Boy They are the Hunters, We are the Foxes Trigger Happy With a Sense of Poise (18+)

s l o w h o r s e s Imposing Figure

#denali writes #masterlist #broadchurch #doctor who #good omens #fright night #bad samaritan #prodigal son #reader insert #fanfic #alec hardy x reader #tenth doctor x reader #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #peter vincent x reader #cale erendreich x reader #martin whitly x reader #michael sheen #david tennant

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silviakundera · 1 month

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Love's Rebellion dropped express and now we know it's a happy ending, so it's safe to taste. I feel determined to give it a fair chance to engage me, because after watching many years of classic Doctor Who and Babylon 5, terrible CGI and low budget effects & sets can't deter me.

Love's Rebellion ep 1 watch comments

Strong character opening for the FL

We learn several key things about her within a few minutes, without an awkward info dump:

She's part of a martial sect but is the reclusive poisioner who doesn't fit in

Powerful enough that she's not intimidated by sword wielding martial siblings

Talks to magical creatures

Patient enough to spend multiple years cultivating her potion ingredients

Chaotic neutral - rescued a junior who came to fuck with her shit, instead of letting him die from poison, but in a very wacky way that terrorized him

ok so when I watch a xanxia I often try to place the tone, so I know what to expect 🤔

This is sorta wacky. The question for me is if this is more "Eternal Love of the Dream" & "Ashes to Love"... or "Back to the Brink". There's a level of unserious chaos that feels whimsical and fantastical to me, and I can vibe with that. But "Back to the Brink" crossed a line for me that felt like Disney channel movie, pre-teen level of pratfalls and goofy. That's very subjective and personal taste... It will likely take 3 or 4 episodes to determine if it's "for me"

ML's intro also pleased me. We get rumors on the street and then a mysterious sword carrying man who was reportedly "chased" by sects to a xanxia market area, spilling wine as a tribute to the dead and then calmy strolling off.

He narrates about himself that he was convicted to murdering fellow disciples and expelled from his sect, on the run

Gotta say, these intros are way better than a few I've seen in cdramas where characters explicitly tell each other paragraphs about a character's backstory in a way that feels artificial. People aren't standing and talking woodenly at each other, things are constantly happening on screen.

ML wants to prove his innocence. I bet the sect master did it. It's always the secretly corrupted shifu.

LMAO there's literally a group called the Evil Path Sect?? Reminds me of that viral tumblr post about joining the brotherhood of evil mutants 😂😭

FL surrounded by demons and gets a little anonymous assist from passersby ML. She's not meek and defenseless, nor is she high powered. Perhaps your average capable sect member

The whaling guitar during fight scenes is taking me out

FL found ML passed out on the road after anonymously saving her and has now kidnapped ML into forced treatment as a medicine tester

(I feel like I watched a drama where a ML wanted to keep FL around because they were obsessed w curing them of the same disease their mom died from. But in that one, it was super annoying that ML hid all this info from the FL. Maybe it was an OTT mini drama. I don't recall.)

This is all very straightforward and the FL doesn't hide her intentions at all. Since she's basically a strange hedge witch with an actual cauldron in a forest hut, the eccentric behavior fits

wtf FL is possessed by a bad cgi gremlin

It's a genie or something and ML wants to steal it because it is gonna help him get this magic manual.

ML really wants the Seven Sins Manual because somehow that's gonna solve his problems.

Why he believes that idk but I feel like the key to watching xanxia is not to think about the plot and mcguffin very much. Just go with it.

#love's rebellion #cdrama #silvia watches

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star-rie · 7 months

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when your servant is a little shite

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

Then Merlin looks at Gaius, who’s sitting there, eyeing him as if he knows what Merlin is going to do.

‘Merlin, no’

‘Merlin yes’

Merlin tests the limits of Arthur’s patience.

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

alternatively, ao3 link

original prompt

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6 (you're here)

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

After the thing with Arthur’s crown and the princess, Merlin decides that enough is enough. He already tests his theories out with varying outcomes. There’s no need to further embarrass both Arthur and his own reputation.

He just doesn’t want to drag Arthur with him, he doesn’t really care if people think he’s mental.

It was another feast. Royals sure do love feasts, Merlin thought as he poured the wine into a noble’s goblet. Tonight, they’re celebrating Sir Alexander’s ascension to knighthood.

A bright young lad he is, aspiring to protect Camelot and King Arthur. Merlin likes him already. In fact, Merlin praises the knights. They’re very loyal to Arthur, even following him to death. The knights are the only nobles worthy of their title.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Modred said beside him, He takes that back, he forgot this rotten thing is actually a knight.

Merlin immediately scowls, looking at the gremlin up and down. Mordred is probably already planning for Arthur’s next death trap.

"Yes,” Merlin said tightly, shifting away from him. Go away, please go away.

Mordred frowns, his face sad. “Do you still hate me?”

Merlin scoffs, “Why would I hate you?” he said as he aggressively takes Mordred’s goblet and pours him water. Obviously, Merlin is not giving alcohol to a child, but if he turns away for a second, maybe Merlin can–

“Merlin!” The sun of his morning sky himself comes to greet him, enthusiastically putting an arm over his shoulder.

“Is that for me?” He asks, taking the goblet from Merlin, Damnit, now he can’t poison the drink!

“That was Modred’s sire.” Maybe if he can get it out of Arthur’s grasp…

“‘Tis mine now! Sorry Mordred” Modred nods, pretending to be the good boy he is. Damn it, poison is out of the window then. Hmm, maybe if Merlin can somehow create a mass hysteria right now, then he can kill him.

Merlin stares at Arthur’s sexy throat, swallowing water like a sexy person. He feels warmth radiating from the arm draping over him.

Nah, not worth it.

“Go join the other knights, boy,” Arthur told him from his sexy lips.

"Okay,” Mordred said, joining the rest of the knights.

“So Arthur, you-OW!” Merlin cried when Arthur smacked him.

“You know, Merlin, your hostility for that boy is really getting abnormal,” Arthur said, gesturing to his empty goblet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Merlin said, pouring wine this time. Arthur sighs.

“Merlin, Mordred is a good boy; can’t you see how sweet he is?” Arthur directed his hand towards Modred and the knights, who were gaping over Percival’s muscly arm. But all Merlin saw was Mordred’s vile smirk and evil face, trying to craft a plan for Arthur’s demise.

“He’s clearly evil, sire. Look at his face!” Merlin gestures towards Mordred’s chubby features.

“You’re delusional”

“Am not!”

So Arthur and Merlin spend the next 10 minutes arguing about Modred’s chubby cheeks and how he’s secretly sorting out an evil plan behind that sweet smile. But then he saw it—the dagger coming at Arthur’s face. Behind him, the same mother from that trial a few days ago, Merlin, was sure she was executed, but she looks alive and well.

Merlin would move himself in front of Arthur. He really would, and he wouldn’t hesitate to shield him even if the dagger might pierce his heart. But he had no time, the blade was already an inch from Arthur’s face, one more second, it would be stuck to his head. Merlin’s heart beats frantically, he has no choice.

Focusing his energy on the dagger, he stopped it right as it touched Arthur’s head. He immediately turns the knife and redirects it to stab the woman at the end of the hall.

She cries painfully, her hand clutching her stomach. And then she falls, blood running from her body. The court is silent, saved for Merlin’s harsh breath.

He knows now, Arthur knows.

He slowly looks at him, frightened of what he will see. Arthur is staring, particularly at his eyes. Merlin presses the ring that was on his finger.

Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me, please–

“Magic is legal now." he meant to declare it to the court, but he ended up saying it to Merlin instead. The court was silent, it was Merlin instead who questioned him, “What...”

“Magic is legal now." Arthur repeats, staring at his eyes. Merlin shakes his head. “You can’t mean that; you’re supposed to hate me; magic is evil; it’s—”

“I mean it!” He shouts, silencing him. And he goes to grab Merlin’s hand, the one with the ring, raising it so the court can see.

“You see this?” He asks, pointing to the ring on Merlin’s hand, “This man has already become a part of Camelot’s royal house; he saves my life more than I can count, but most importantly, he always puts Camelot before himself; he stays as my servant even if magic is illegal. Believe me when I say we won’t stand if he’s not here.”

He said, before looking fondly at him, “We owe a great debt to you."

And then Arthur turns to address the court “I will write a decree tomorrow. Are there any objections?” He asks, and Gwaine starts very slowly, "Um, is it just me, or it’s very obvious that Merlin had magic since, like, I don’t know, before Uther?”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Me too”

“No way”

"Wait, what do you mean? This is old news? this is new to me!”

And the court is now competing over which person discovers Merlin’s magic in the first place, which becomes very funny as the discussion gets more complex. Merlin looks at Gaius and Lancelot, who just shrugs. Merlin is perplexed.

“Wait..so you all knew that I–”

“I did say, Merlin, that you can’t keep a secret, even if your life depends on it.” Arthur cuts him off while Merlin is reeling over the fact that even Arthur knew.

…

ARTHUR KNEW HE HAD MAGIC!?

Arthur then smiles at the court and says, "Well, then continue on while me and my not-so-magical manservant—" Arthur held his hand tightens when he said that, which means that Merlin is in very serious trouble. “Clean this corpse from the room! Let’s go, wizard! Been dying to use that one." Arthur drags Merlin to the corpse, and they both carry her out of the hall.

Once they were far enough, when Merlin’s brain stopped short-circuiting, he started to chuckles at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, that was a—“ he starts, but is caught off guard when Arthur roughly pins him to the wall, trapping him under him.

“Arthur what--“

“Do you realize how dangerous that was?” Arthur spoke, grip tightening on Merlin’s jacket, “I had enough of you, trying to make a fool of yourself to the royal court; you think I didn’t notice, didn’t you? Your silly stunts of sitting at the throne and the time you sat at the table, and—wait, you’re doing this on purpose!” he realizes, shouting accusingly at Merlin.

"No,” Merlin said, avoiding Arthur’s eyes.

So he had noticed.

"Oh, stop lying, Merlin, you can’t even lie about your magic.”

“Well okay only some of them, the rest is because of the situation” he sighs, wiggling under his grip. When Arthur made no indication to move, Merlin finally voices the tiny thought that had been echoing in his heart.

“So you don’t hate me?” Merlin asks, not looking at him. Arthur had the right to look offended.

“Hate you?? Of course not! Why would I? No! Merlin! I’m mad at you!” Arthur said, pushing him further. “What if the court didn't agree with me back there?! What if they didn’t know about your magic?? What if they think that a king-servant relationship is not normal like my father? What then?? What if they separated me from you?!” Arthur asks frantically, and it finally clicks—all the things that Arthur did for him.

"Oh,” Merlin said, “I thought,“ and Arthur kissed him hard, awkwardly, their teeth clanking. And Merlin melts into it. Finally, he thinks, as he puts his hand on his hair, finally he gets to kiss him. And then they pull away from each other.

“Are we good?” Merlin asks

"Yeah,” Arthur said, before kissing Merlin again.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #arthur bbc #merthur #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merthur fanfic #merthur fic #merlin fic #merlin fanfic

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ladykailitha · 9 months

Text

The Magic of Christmas Part 7/8

Here we get to the secret relationship as I wanted it to be surprise. Claudia is awesome as usual and Eddie and Steve are too cute for words.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

***

Eddie was feeling a tad grumpy. He was going to be alone for Thanksgiving. Chrissy was going back to her brother’s family for the holiday since both of them weren’t speaking to their parents anymore and even Uncle Wayne betrayed him by accepting dinner with his girlfriend’s family.

“That can’t be allowed,” Steve said when he heard. “Why don’t you join us for Thanksgiving? Dustin would flip if you came.”

Eddie chewed his lip nervously. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude. I could hit up the local buffet if I had to.”

“And risk the long lines, the sick servers, and the risk of food poisoning because they can’t get the food out fast enough?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow as he counted off the reasons on his fingers.

“You drive a hard bargain, Stevie.”

He laughed. “Plus Claudia is bring her new boyfriend and I need you to distract Dustin so he doesn’t freak out.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, all right. You win. I’ll come to your Thanksgiving. Who’s making dinner? Do I need to bring anything? I’ve got a killer roll recipe.”

“Me and Claudia share the cooking duties most years but because her boyfriend is coming I offered to do the whole thing.” Steve shrugged. “But sure take over the rolls. That’s one less thing I have worry about finding space in the over for.”

“Sweet!” Eddie said jumping up with a whoop. “I’ll even come a little early to be your cooking buddy so that you aren’t slaving away in the kitchen by yourself.”

Steve blushed. “You don’t have to that, Eds.”

“Steve,” Eddie said seriously. “I love your best friends. Robin and Dustin are amazing people that should in no way be allowed anywhere near the kitchen. They would burn it down and you know it.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but he knew it was futile. “Yeah, okay. Dinner is a three so maybe come around one?”

Eddie grinned. “Sounds good, darlin’.”

Steve blushed.

Eddie was greet at the door by Claudia with a kiss on his cheek. His own mother had passed away and this amazing woman had decided she was going to adopt any motherless person she found. Robin and Steve didn’t speak to theirs and Eddie had lost his when he was six to cancer. So she had four children as far as she was concerned.

“I’m so glad you’re here, dear,” she muttered. “Steve keeps kicking me out of kitchen. It’s not that I worry he’ll do it wrong, of course!” She waved her hands. “No, I’m worried that he’ll take too much on and wear himself out so he can’t enjoy the meal after.”

Well that was something that Dustin definitely inherited from his mother. The sheer speed at which they spoke. They could get out as much information in five minutes then most people could get in fifty.

“Let me grab those rolls for you,” she continued sweetly. “I’ll just put on the on the side bar.”

Eddie let her take his dish and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. He found Steve in the cutest pink, frilly apron, hair slicked back with sweat and looking like he had just gotten off of a red-eye flight.

The first thing Eddie did was get Steve a cold beer out of the fridge and pop the cap. He handed it to him.

“Chef gets the booze,” he said with a grin. “Munson family tradition.”

Steve downed half of the bottle in one gulp. “Thanks. I think I like your tradition.”

Eddie chuckled. “As long as you don’t down the entire bottle of red wine used for the gravy, I think booze is the perfect aid for cooking.” He clapped his hands together. “Right, where do you need me?”

Steve started rattling off things that needed to be done and Eddie jumped right in.

Soon they were moving in tandem, just working in perfect rhythm.

Eddie burst out laughing when he heard Dustin tell Robin not go into the kitchen.

“It’s like fucking Swan Lake in there,” he whisper shouted. “I’m afraid if you go in their you’ll break the spell.”

They saw Robin peek in and then squeaked when she them looking back her. She vanished.

Steve shook his head fondly. “You can start stacking things up on the sideboard, Eds. We just have to give this bird time to rest and I’ll carve it up.”

“Sounds good, Stevie!” Eddie said and grabbed the stuffing. Homemade, not that box stuff. It was Claudia’s grandmother’s recipe and she refused to eat anything else.

Eddie was coming out with the candied yams when Dustin came up to him.

“Ma’s boyfriend’s got a nephew that does art, too,” he said. “Maybe you know him!”

Eddie shook his head. “Look, there are some many artists in just Indy alone, there is no wa–”

Just then Claudia ushered in her boyfriend and Eddie’s jaw slammed shut. He patted Dustin on the shoulder and said, “Actually, I take that back, I do know his nephew.”

The boyfriend stopped cold in his tracks when he saw Eddie coming toward him.

“When were you going to tell me, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie said with a low growl, “that you were dating Claudia Henderson?”

Wayne Munson blinked at his nephew a moment, working his jaw as he tried to find the words. Any word would have done in that moment, but Wayne was stunned to silence for the first time in his life since learning that he was now the legal guardian of a very disgruntled eleven year old.

“Hi, Ed,” he managed to say, his voice high and unnatural. “Glad to see you found a place to go for Thanksgiving?”

Eddie folded his arms and tapped his foot. “I know you know who Steve Harrington is and if you’ve been dating Claudia long enough to have her stay at your place while Steve was in London, then you know I knew who they were after Halloween.”

Wayne looked over at Claudia who was staring at him with wide eyes as was Dustin.

“I’ll explain after dinner,” he promised them. Then he grabbed Eddie by the arm and dragged him off to a side room.

“How the hell did you even know this room existed?!” Eddie groused. “I didn’t know this room existed!”

“Look, son,” Wayne said. “I should have said something and it was wrong of me. Especially when I figured it out pretty quick that your Steve was Claudia’s Steve.”

Eddie sighed. “So why didn’t you?”

Wayne scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Because it’s been so long since we didn’t share something. Something that unique to both of us that wasn’t your art. I had a wonderful woman as my girlfriend and you had this sweet mother figure. And it was separate from the other.”

“Only it was the same person,” Eddie said dryly, shoving his hands in his back pocket. Were you never going to introduce us and hope we never found out?”

“No!” Wayne said. “Of course not! I going to tell you at Christmas.”

Eddie glared at him. “When it would be fucking unavoidable as we would both be invited to the Christmas party.”

Wayne ducked his head in shame. “I’m sorry, son. You have to believe that.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and then stomped over to his uncle. He wrapped his arms around Wayne’s shoulders with a heavy sigh.

“You didn’t want to feel obligated to keep dating her because I felt a motherly connection to her, huh?”

Wayne let out a shuddering sigh. “That was a big part of it, too.”

“I’ll go tell them what’s going on and give you a minute to compose yourself,” Eddie said and kissed the top of his head.

He nodded and watched as Eddie slipped back out into the hallway.

Sure enough all of the members of the household were waiting for him.

“Sorry about that,” he told them. “He was just being a little selfish and wanted to keep you guys to himself for a while.”

“That silly man,” Claudia huffed. “I’ll go talk some sense into him, shall I?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Go for it.”

Claudia went into the side room, leaving Eddie with the remaining three.

“We should go eat before all that lovely food gets cold,” Steve said with a smile.

Robin and Dustin went off on a tear, pushing and trying to trip each other so that they were the first in line.

Steve opened up his arms and Eddie fell into them with sigh.

Steve rubbed his back soothingly. “I know you feel a little betrayed right now, and you should. But pretty soon this will just be blip in your relationship and you’ll be able to tease him about insistently.”

Eddie raised his head. “That does sound nice.”

Steve kissed his cheek. “Come on, we better get out there before Robin eats all the stuffing and Dustin eats all the candied yams.”

Eddie gasped and then took off in a dead heat for the dinning room. Steve looked back at the room Wayne and Claudia were in and shook his head fondly.

He was sure everything was going to be just fine.

Dinner passed with little fuss and no drama. There was always going to be a little fuss about Dustin taking too much and Steve taking too little, but it worked out fine in the end.

That night they settled in for board games and pie.

“Pie is the one thing I leave to the professionals,” Steve said. “I don’t know where the saying ‘easy as pie’ comes from but they were a damn liar.”

Claudia laughed. “The crust is easy enough, but it’s the baking it so the rim doesn’t burn before the rest of the pie is done that gets me every time.”

“It’s the filling for me,” Steve said. “It’s either dead cold in the center or a goopy melted mess.”

Eddie put his head on the palms of his hands and batted his eyelashes at Wayne. “Uncle, would you like to tell me why you didn’t offer to make your world famous apple pie? As in the one you have won literal awards for?”

Wayne froze. “What pie?”

Eddie continued to bat his eyelashes.

“Snitch,” he groused. “Because I wanted someone else to do the work for a change.”

“I brought gramma’s rolls,” Eddie countered. “You could have made one pie.”

Wayne sighed. He knew he had been defeated. “I’ll bring it for Christmas.” He glared at Eddie. “I can’t believe you sold me out like that.”

Eddie got up and kissed his uncle on the cheek. “Payback’s a bitch,” he whispered in his ear.

Wayne flushed, but didn’t say anything else. He knew Eddie was right.

Dustin turned to Eddie. “You come to Christmas too!”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance.

“Sure thing, bud,” was all Eddie said.

Chrissy came up behind Eddie having just gotten back from her brother’s house.

“You’re painting?” she asked. “I thought you had finished the piece for Steve.”

Eddie hummed in agreement. “I tried to get him to stop paying our bills when I told him I finished it, but he said the contract was for six months and while I had completed my side of the bargain, he hadn’t yet. He told me to just have fun until the end of the year. Goof off or work on my own passion projects.”

“That was sweet of him,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “What are you painting?”

“Steve’s Christmas from me,” he answered. “His favorite dragon is a yellow chromatic dragon.”

“Aren’t they all evil?” she asked.

Eddie set down his paint brush and turned in his stool. “Did you ever see that Disney cartoon where knight and the dragon are having tea?”

Chrissy shrugged. “I vaguely remember that.”

“It’s going to be like that,” he said. “Instead of fighting the knight and the dragon are sitting down and having tea.”

“That’s cute!” she said. “He’ll love it.”

He blushed. “That’s the hope.”

***

Part 8

Don't be too hard on Uncle Wayne, it's hard being a single parent even if they've already moved out. He was stupid, but it wasn't malicious.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #christmas #artist eddie #businessman steve #autistic steve harrington

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army93bangya · 4 months

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The Moon Goddess's Chosen | Chapter 4| MYG [M]

*Chapter 4

*Summary: Y/N wakes up disoriented in unfamiliar surroundings, what is going to happen to her now that she has been taken from her father? What will Alpha Min do to her now that she is in his grasp?

*Genre/Rating: Mature, 18+, Werewolf/Fated mates, eventual smut? 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️

*Warnings/Potential Triggers: Talks Child of Abuse, Abuse, Non-con Touching, Non-con Confinement, Angst, Mistreatment, Being Detained, Anxiety, Nervousness, Mention of Murder, Mention of plotting Murder, Reader is going thru it, Confrontation, Slight mention of Rape, Poisoning, Possible future Smut,….more to be added in future chapters.

*Disclaimer: This work was written and owned by Army93bangya and there is no consent for anyone else to post it as theirs, this story is intended for entertainment purposes only, this story is a work of fantasy, seems a bit ridiculous to say but I do not own or have rights to BTS or the members and the characters in this story are a fictional interpretation of members. Wolfsbane is an actual poison and there truly is no cure. DO NOT EVER INGEST WOLFBANE!

*Words: 5060

*Notes: Well...here we are.. I don't even know what to say. Currently this story is slow burn, but I am just kind of going with the flow when writing it so that could change. Jimin is an absolute sweetheart! Don't come for Y/N her trust issues are real with good reason. I did a tiny amount of research on herbs and wanted something somewhat realistic in the story for a medicine to help with her poisoning. Khella is a real herb that is native to certain parts of the Mediterranean and Asia and can be used medicinally for heart ailments. I will leave a link with an article I read for the purpose of this story. As always thank you so much for reading and please leave me a comment telling me what you think so far! :)

7 Health Benefits of Khella - Healthy Focus

Previous Chapter ------ Next Chapter

You're comfortable. That's the first thing you register when you start to regain consciousness. Maddie must have found more padding and blankets for your bed, she is such an amazing friend. UGH your body and head both ache with the aftermath of the wolfsbane, feels like you drank a ton of wine and are now hungover, only worse. Did you faint? Did Darius carry you to your be- Wait! As your mind starts to catch up you remember the gathering, Maddie mated and led away, your own mate connection made to Alpha Min, the words spoken, Alpha Mins words in particular being a great concern, Darius’s futile attack, the beta that had you and…and…he lifted you into his arms. Your father was bested. No no no no! This can not be happening!

Your eyes are heavy but you manage to open them and take in your surroundings. Letting out a breath of relief to find that you are currently alone, But it is overly obvious that this isn't your bedroom, or your tent at camp. You're snuggled into a massive pile of blankets and furs on a platform of some kind about a foot off the ground. The bed you are in is situated at the far left corner of this huge tent with a chair positioned right next to it. In front of you to the left of the entrance is a couple decent size baskets and a big chest. A modest fire pit is set up at the center of the tent with its embers currently banked, two stoops stand upright for sitting outside of a stone barrier that circles the pit. The front right corner is blocked off by a couple partitions and in the back right corner of the tent is a large long table with benches set up on both sides that look like they could fit four people on each bench, a chair sits at the head of the table facing the entire tent. A tent this size with such furniture inside for a temporary encampment can only mean one thing. This is the alphas tent, You’re in Alpha Mins tent…in his bed.

Don't Panic! You can't freak out right now, need to think. You don't know how long you will be alone in this tent so it's best to use what time you have to reflect on everything that has happened, and come up with the best course of action. What do you do? With everything you have heard about this pack and your fated mate, it would be unwise to think you will be treated with any type of kindness, you're not that dense. Alpha Min could come through that entrance at any second, he is unpredictable and almost completely unreadable. He might come in and hurt you or force himself on you. No you can't stay, so that leaves you with two options. Either you stick around and try to placate Alpha Min into believing you want to be his mate, maybe he won't hurt you if you are compliant. You would just have to wait and hope that your father can successfully retrieve you. It is not the best option, and you REALLY don't want to go back to your father and Darius either, but it is the better option as it is more likely to be a successful outcome.

The alternative would be to find Maddie and attempt an escape. You can not run and leave Maddie to this fate, no you would have to find her in this camp first. But where would you even go? Two she wolves on the run are a massive target to both rogues and packs. And it would be foolish to try to seek refuge with any pack. There would be too many questions that would need to be answered before a pack would take you in. Not to mention packs that provide sanctuary to outsiders are the first places your father and Alpha Min would look. No you would have to go rogue and find unclaimed territory to hide in, somewhere far away. That is if you could even succeed in the impossible feat of escaping.

You would need to inspect the complete layout of the Bangtan camp, find the best spot to sneak out of here while observing for the best possible moment as well. Locating Maddie is a top priority and you are hopeful that you would be allowed to speak to her alone. It is most likely that Alpha Min will keep you under guard, so being able to get away from your keeper is something you have to take into account too. But perhaps the biggest difficulty with this plan is Alpha Min himself. Taking everything he disclosed at the gathering and assessing it you know he will be your largest obstacle. For reasons unknown to you, he wants you, and you don't take him for a wolf that rolls over and accepts defeat. With his heightened senses it will be near impossible to get away from him undetected. And with him being your mate he will be able to pick up your scent easily. So if you are successful in fleeing undetected the next challenge would be being able to evade him till you get a far enough distance. With so many unknown variables it would be next to impossible to escape. Basically both options are awful, uncertain, and unfavorable.

You're doomed. And you really need to relieve yourself. You glance at the entrance and instantly anxiety saturates you completely. You can do this, laying here is not going to accomplish anything, you have to do this. Besides, if you urinate in Alpha Min's bed that probably won't endear you to him at all, and the thought of being in his bed when he comes back is an immediate motivator to find your courage. Slowly you lift up into a sitting position, the dress that you wore to the gathering is still on your body so that somewhat soothes you. You find your shoes positioned neatly by the bed, removing the blankets from your body and sliding your legs off the bed you grab the sandals and strap them to your feet. You yearn to be able to just shift to wolf form and go relieve yourself easily, maybe explore without having to speak to anyone. But your father only let you shift when necessary, when the itch to do so became too much. He did not like you being in wolf form so you're not about to do so here without approval first. You need to be compliant, obedient so that with luck your time here will be as painless as possible.

You let out a groan as you stand, your body feels stiff and everything aches. Surprisingly though you don't feel quite as sore as you usually do coming off of wolfsbane and that gives you pause. You get a flicker of a foggy memory, being held up in a sitting position and having liquid coaxed down your throat. Huh. They weren't lying about the healer it seems. You are used to the wolfsbane running its course through your system and it is usually about a week before you are feeling back to normal. They must have given you Khella tea. While there is no cure for wolfsbane, Khella is known to aid in ridding the body of the toxin quicker thus speeding up recovery time. Judging on how you currently feel and if they give you more Khella tea, you will probably be fully recovered in about three to four days instead of your regular seven to eight days. But until then you will bear the discomfort as you always have and face the outside of this tent.

It is bright when you first step outside, you squint your eyes and give them a moment to adjust before taking in your surroundings. Alpha Min's tent seems to be at the back of the camp as there is a big open area in front of you with a communal fire in the center for cooking and heating water. There are several tents on both sides of the area left open for the pack to congregate. “LUNA!” your eyes shoot towards the loud exclaim to take in a man briskly approaching you. On instinct you take a step back closer to the tent you just came out of and he instantly stops a few feet from you. Oh. You recognize him. It's the beta that came to you after Darius released you, the one who still seems to be calling you Luna. Funny he looks about as nervous as you feel. “Luna, you should not be out of bed in your condition. I was just coming to check on you. I am so happy you are awake but we should really get you back into bed to rest.” Before you can be concerned by his words, he gives you a boyish smile and visibly softens his entire demeanor completely contradictory to everything you have heard so far about the wolves in this pack.

Even though he seems genuine with his caring demeanor and sweet smile you know better than to be led into a false sense of security and let your guard down. No matter how endearing he looks right now. But for your own well being you will play along to this facade you seem to have walked into. You try to appear more at ease before answering him. “I'm sorry, I didn't know I was not supposed to leave the bed, but I really have an urgent matter to attend to.” You give him a pointed look and his eyes widen and he starts garbling words before being able to actually respond. “Ofcourse Luna! let me guide you to an area to take care of that!” He turns to look at the two other men he seemed to be talking to before identifying your presence and bolting to you. “Can you guys go find Alpha and let him know that his mate is awake?” They both incline their heads and walk away to perform the task given to them. You hope it takes them a very long time to find him.

The beta promptly turns back to you, gives you a sheepish look, and raises his arm to show you what direction to take. You start slowly walking and he instantly falls into step with you hovering an arm behind you like he wants to wrap it around you or is worried you will fall. “How do you feel?” You had been trying to analyze the area and layout of the camp as much as possible when his soft question came out. “Better with some sleep. Thank you.” There, polite and short. He shoots you a concerned look and continues to inspect you like he is worried you are going to keel over and die on him right here and now. Regardless if he is putting on a show for you or not, his jumpy fretting exterior is humorous to you. It is like he is scared of YOU. The thought is amusing and you can not help the slight upturn of your mouth, the subtle softening of your features.

The change in your gaze seems to be the balm he needs, because he immediately becomes more at ease and begins to cheerfully engage you in conversation. “It is such a relief to know you are feeling better! We were all extremely worried about you, Yoongi was very distressed with your condition. It is not often any of us see him in such an agitated state anymore, he is an expert at masking his emotions. Oh! My name is Jimin by the way, I apologize for not introducing myself sooner but it definitely didn't seem like the right time.” Jimin lets out a nervous laugh. You think back to your first contact with him, how gentle he was with you, how he tried to soothe you. Dammit! He seems so kind and endearing you have to remind yourself letting your guard down would be detrimental to you. Dread passes through you when his words about Alpha Min being agitated registers. Does this alpha get violent when upset? You will have to be extremely observant around him, cooperate entirely so that hopefully his anger will not be directed towards you.

You are almost to a secluded wooded area that Jimin is leading you towards. You decide then that he seems safe enough to talk with, while discreetly attempting to gather some information from. Also it would only be polite if you provide him with your name as well, and it would be a plus if he stopped calling you by the title of an alphas mate. “My name is Y/N. I wanted to thank you for helping me at the gathering. If you don't mind me asking, where is Alpha Min now?” He studies you for a second, but not in a bad way. Instead it is like he is checking to see if you are upset about the alphas absence before responding. “Your mate has been by your side as much as he can, but as the alpha he knows it is also his job to keep his pack safe. He left earlier to run our camp's perimeter and personally receive updates from all the wolves acting as sentries to the borders he has set. Don’t worry Luna, I'm sure as soon as he hears you are awake he will finish quickly and return to you.”

Just as he finishes speaking you reach the outline of trees, saved from having to respond to everything that is expelled out of Jimin's mouth. You’re gonna need some time to mull over his words and all of the implications before coming up with another question that doesn't sound too intrusive. Jimin follows you into the woods, he makes an excuse that you are still recovering and he needs to make sure you are safe, but it just confirms that you were right in your assumption earlier. It looks like you will indeed be kept under constant watch. He does however move a few paces away before giving you his back. So Alpha Min has put precautions in place and is monitoring the area his pack has made camp. Even in neutral territory where there is supposed to be no attacks or acts of violence outside of simple mate disputes, he is taking strategic defensive steps in case your father decides to try something. It is a wise decision, you wouldn't put it past your father to have already met with his betas and concocted a plan.

Doing your business quickly you make your way back to Jimin and stop by his side. He starts to analyze you from head to toe as soon as his body is turned towards you. “Let's get you back to camp and back in bed so that Yoongi doesn't have my head. Okay Luna?” You freeze staring at him but he has a slightly playful look on his face that says he is joking and you turn to start walking, before he can comment on your panicked flash change in body language. Still so weak from the wolfbane, and the exhaustion of all the emotional turmoil you have been put through so recently, this simple walk has you feeling completely drained and pushing yourself to make it back to where you apparently were supposed to stay. Breath coming out labored you are almost out of the trees and back to the clearing of the camp when you sway and your body starts to give out. Stumbling you hear Jimin curse through the slight ringing in your ears, he catches you before you completely lose balance and once again you are hoisted into the betas arms. Jimin is now carrying you and walking at a fast pace towards the camp. The thought of being carried by the beta into camp leaves you feeling both ashamed and weak for all the eyes of this pack to see. “I can walk on my own, I just need to catch my breath for a second.”

Jimin stops walking and angles his head to look you in the eye. “Please let me do this for you Luna. You still have wolfsbane in your system, I can not imagine the kind of pain you are in or how exhausted you must feel. Your mate has asked me to watch over you, to protect you while he is not here. I will do anything and everything to make sure that you are taken care of until he returns.” You lower your gaze to your hands that are resting in your lap out of learned behavior. He must take your silence as acceptance because he starts his fast walk back to camp. “Why do you call me that?” he doesn't falter in steps but he does shoot his head down to look at you in confusion. “What?” “Luna. Why do you call me Luna?” Jimin looks away but you can see him smiling. “Because that's what you are. Even without my Alphas mark, you are his mate and Bangtans Luna. But we also know you are so much more than that arent you?”

He is gazing at you again with such a warm bright look that you have to turn your head away to escape it. Instead you look to see that you are almost back to the Bangtan camp and begin to feel the anxiety creep in. “Please put me down before we make it back to the camp.” Jimin is silent for a few seconds, seeming to be mulling over your request. Then he is looking at you again and listening to your breathing which has settled back down. “If you let me continue to offer you support and help you back to your tent I will let you back on your feet.” Did he really just give you a compromise for walking on your own two feet or being carried?! You let out a slight snort of exasperation before nodding your head in agreement. He grins and shoots you a look raising his eyebrows that says he also finds you somewhat exasperating as well. His playfulness puts a simple quick smile on your face before you are gazing towards your destination again.

Jimin puts you down when you are but a few paces from the closest tent and puts his arm around your waist to take some of your weight while you walk back to camp. His hold is firm but extremely gentle compared to Darius’s painful grip that you're sure left a bruise you haven't been able to examine yet. You give him a look that says this is unnecessary, but he just gives you a somewhat stern one back and you decide not to argue. Making your way back to Alpha Min’s tent there are more people out and moving about the camp than before. People are looking at you and staring with looks that can only be recognized as admiration. Some even go so far as to bow their heads to you and Jimin as you walk past. It makes you extremely uncomfortable and confused, you do not meet anyone's gaze after that. You begin to contemplate what this pack thinks it is you can do for them that has them so thrilled to see you. That overwhelming dread is back, what will Alpha Min and this pack do to you when they find out you do not have complete control over your gifts and try not to use them when you are able and not fighting wolfsbane poisoning.

You make it back to the open area between tents with the fire and an older woman with the marks of a healer makes a beeline for you. "There you are! Jimin! Why did you take her out of bed? I wasn't gone that long but imagine my panic when I came back to find her missing! almost sounded an alarm!" You watch with wide eyes as the irked woman rants at Jimin and smacks him on the arm not wrapped around you. "Kit she had to relieve herself! What was I supposed ---" The betas words become background as a knowing sense shoots down your spine and you turn your head feeling the drawing of the mate connection right when Alpha Min and 2 of his other betas come into view between tents making their way into the open area. He stops walking when his eyes immediately snap to yours most likely feeling the pull as well. Alpha Min looks directly into your eyes for only a few seconds before taking in your position leaning heavily on his beta, his face tightens and you see his jaw clench. You start to panic when he starts advancing straight towards you with a pissed off look on his face. In flight mode you begin attempting to get out of Jimin's grasp so you can try to escape the alphas sudden wrath but freeze when Alpha Min lets out an impressive growl before he is suddenly upon you scooping you into his arms. Startled, your arms act on their own and fling themselves over both of the alphas shoulders so that you can grip him for purchase. He doesn't even halt his movements when he lifts you, continuing straight to his tent.

Once back where you started the alpha goes straight to his bed placing you upon it. He places a knee on the bed and begins to reach his hand toward you. On instinct you start attempting to backpedal away from him. Alpha Min puts his hand down and straightens his body. Maybe he wasn't as stoic as you believed because he is giving you a bewildered look, almost stunned even, like he can't believe you are frightened of him. “You do not need to be fearful of me. I will never purposefully hurt you. No one in this entire pack is going to hurt you. You are safe here, with me.” Eyes wide you just stare at him, unable to process thoughts enough to respond. What would you even say? That you don't believe him at all? Shit your plan was to be compliant and you are already fucking it up! He places his bent leg back on the ground before crouching down so it is not to seem like he is towering over you. The alpha just stares at you with a blank look. Not in a bad way but like he is patiently giving you time to calm down and talk to him.

Your terror and panic greatly decreases seeing him with a calmer exterior, and you are saved from having to collect yourself and come up with an amicable reply when the healer's voice breaks through the stare off you both seem to be having. “Alpha may we enter?” Alpha Min turns his head to the entrance before straightening back to his full height and turning to face the entrance. “Yes.” Although his back is now to you he does not move from the bedside. If you were naive and mate-struck then his placement in front of you would seem more of a protective stance. Heck maybe it is in a possessive way. The healer, Jimin, and the two betas that were just at their alphas side all enter the tent. Both the betas, unknown to you, perch on stumps near the fire facing their alpha while the healer starts to make her way to you completely disregarding Alpha Min as she passes him. Jimin stands a few feet in front of his leader looking very twitchy. Focused on the alpha and his endearing beta you startle when you feel a hand placed on your shoulder, sucking in a quick inhale of breath and causing all eyes in the room to snap to you. Alpha Min is facing you again, eyes flitting between your face and the hand on your shoulder.

“I'm sorry Luna, I didn't mean to startle you. My name is Kit, I am one of Bangtans healers. I would like to take a look at you and ask some questions if that is okay?” Your eyes flit between the alpha and his once again blank expression to the healer before giving her a nod of affirmation before looking down at your hands held together in your lap. You feel Kit reach for your neck gently to feel your pulse before hearing someone clear their throat prompting you to look back up at the alpha and his betas. “Luna woke up and had to relieve herself. We had just made it back to camp.” You feel embarrassment at Jimin discussing your need to piss with multiple ears in the room. Alpha Min sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jimin, you could have gotten a bucket for her so that she did not have to strain herself walking into the woods. She still has wolfsbane in her system and needs rest, not to mention I don’t like the idea of you two on the outskirts of camp while I am still trying to determine the threat level we could possibly be facing.” Jimin lowers his head to stare at his feet in submission. “I’m sorry alpha, I will not fuck up again.”

You want to say something to defend Jimin, he did nothing wrong and has been nothing but kind towards you….so far. Curse your soft heart. “Luna, your pulse is elevated and your fever is spiking again. I’m going to make you some more Khella tea. How much pain are you experiencing?” Welp all eyes are back on you again and you almost want to die at having your anxiety ridden heart rate being announced in front of these wolves. Alpha Mins eyes are back on you, his form is tense, fist clenched. You don't want to say the wrong thing and make him even more angry so you settle with a quiet ‘I’m fine’. Kit huffs at you seemingly exasperated. “Luna please don't put on a brave face and be dishonest with me. I know a extensive amount about wolfsbane poisoning and how much pain it causes to radiate throughout the body.” You don't know what to do or how to respond, on one hand you are afraid to say the wrong thing and make this alpha mad, but looking at this healer you know she isn't gonna let you get by with short feeble answers.”The pain is there but bearable, the Khella tea is helping and should shorten the recovery time. I usually just have to sleep it off and that typically takes seven to eight days.”

Kits face has taken on shock and the entire tent is eerily quiet before Alpha Min breaks the silence. “What do you mean you usually have to sleep it off?” His voice comes out in an almost growl and you visibly flinch. The alpha takes a small step back and the look on his face can not be mistaken. He is upset and you are wondering what you said wrong. “I’m sorry Alpha Min I should have explained better. When I have wolfsbane in my system it typically takes me seven to eight days to recover with rest. I have built up a slight tolerance to the poison though and this was a smaller dose so I may recover quicker. Well I will recover faster with the Khella tea regardless.” The alpha takes on a stoic expression and slowly approaches you. You stay still this time when he crouches next to the bed, his eyes stay on your face as he slowly raises his hand to rest on yours in your lap. The current of the mate bond flows through the both of you. His touch proves to be the remedy your heart needs to slow and your entire body to calm. “How many times have you been poisoned with wolfsbane?” His voice is soft when he asks and he maintains a calm exterior, like he is cautious not to frighten you. You don't know what to make of his eyes though. They look pained. Like he is the one hurting from poison and not you. It leaves you feeling flustered and so unsure that you stutter your response. “ I-I’m not sure. I never really thought to count.” You drop your eyes back to your lap. Looking at his hand gently resting on top of yours, he gives a tiny squeeze prompting you to meet his eyes again.

Jimin takes a step forward breaking the trance you two seemed to be in when you glance at him. He looks tormented. Like it was his fault you were poisoned. It is all too much, you feel stripped and vulnerable all of a sudden. Not to mention extremely confused and conflicted with the way they are acting towards you. Kit seems to pick up on this placing a calming hand on your upper back. “Alpha, a hot bath would help alleviate some of the pain in your mate's body as well as her fever.” Alpha Min looks at her and then back at you before nodding, removing his hand from yours, and standing to address his betas. “Kook. Jimin. come with me to have water heated and walk the camp, Hoseok will you stay here?” The muscled up beta simply stands and starts walking to the entrance while the other gives a bright grin before nodding. Jimin shoots you a small smile and follows muscle-beta out of the tent. The healer huffs and mumbles something about ‘overprotective’ but that's all you get from your spot next to her. The Alpha moves to the right corner moving the partitions aside to reveal a tub before turning to look at you one last time and waltzing out of the tent. You clench your hands together feeling bereft with the alphas exit, his warm hand no longer holding yours. That frustrates you even more because it feels like your body is betraying you. He is dangerous and unknown, and when he is near his scent and presence intoxicates you to the point you want to rub yourself all over him until you're drenched in his scent and warmth. Yep. You're screwed.

#bts #yoongi #bangtan #suga #fated mates #yoongi mate #bts army #fanfic #alpha yoongi #jeon jungkook #park jimin #jung hoseok #x reader #werewolves #werewolf #The Moon Goddess's Chosen

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