#regai

[laughing-moonlight]

[averagelonelypotato]

love it when characters are actually shown with the bruises and cuts they got in battle, it's hot seeing them disheveled and clothes torn but still have the pure rage and fighting spirit in their eyes

[boudicca]

critically low on donations

heba is a mother of four children, including anas, currently displaced to deir al-balah after their home in gaza was destroyed. the cost of necessities like groceries, water, and medication is astronomical in gaza. meanwhile, the children are trying to continue their education, but the dangerous, uncomfortable situation in their tent camp and the lack of reliable internet is making it impossible. heba needs money immediately to feed and protect her children, to help them continue their education and maintain some sense of normality, and to someday rebuild their destroyed home.

this fundraiser has not received any donations in nine days, and is stuck at just $172 CAD of the $55k goal. please do whatever you can to support this family.

[bunnis-monsters]

To love a dragon

Laburnum(OC) x FemReader

Commissioned by: @miss-grey

Note: the Oc Laburnum belongs to the commissioner, @miss-grey and my commissions are currently closed. My waiting list is open and has 1 slot left, so hurry up and get it before it’s gone!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains as your lover smiled that cheeky smile of his.

“You’re nervous.”

Although he was teasing you, his eyes told you that if you felt uncomfortable and wanted him to stop, he would in an instant.

“Maybe… but I’m not afraid.”

The soft, affectionate sigh that escaped his lips as you cupped his cheek made your heart soar. The touch of your hand was something he craved more than anything.

“That’s good, my darling. You have nothing to fear, all you have to do is sit back and enjoy yourself.”

His hands moved down your stomach, stopping right above your panties. A questioning glance upwards was sent your way, and you nodded a bit too quickly, giving him permission to continue.

“Eager, are we?”

A quick kiss had your head feeling fuzzy, the potent aphrodisiac in his saliva kicking in within seconds.

His skilled fingers pressed against your clothed clit, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from your lips. Laburnum’s touch had you shivering, your trembling body begging for him to remove the fabric that separated him from you.

“Please…”

That was all it took for him to pull your panties down and slot himself between your legs, looking up at you with those amber, almost golden eyes of his.

“You’re gorgeous, you know…”

The tip of his finger traced your inner thigh, one of his horns rubbing against your belly as his focus shifted to your already soaking wet cunt. “I want you… needed you for so long…”

The feeling of his long forked tongue lapping at your needy pussy made you let out a mewl. Your belly felt tight, a knot forming and tightening as he kept your thighs apart.

Laburnum was only half shifted into his dragon form, just enough to where he could use some of his inhuman features to his advantage in pleasing you.

His fingers pumped in and out you, and you could feel a satisfied hum against your clit. “That’s my good girl, my sweet little blossom…”

Locks of his burgundy hair brushed against your belly as he leaned in closer to suck on your clit, looking up at you with those pretty eyes of his.

“L-Laburnum… please…”

For months now you have been dreaming of this moment. The two of you had shared longing glances at one another, desperate to touch and taste each other.

“What do you want, my love? Use your words for me, little blossom…”

Soft panting could be heard along with wet slurping and squelching as he pushed you to your limits, making your body tremble with need.

“P-please… want you… inside me…”

You were barely able to blubber out an answer, panting and writhing. The man smirked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Be patient… you have to cum first, okay? Be good, I have to get you nice and ready for me…”

A whine escaped your lips, and you bucked your hips into his face as you reached your peak, your eyes tiling into the back of your head. His fingers continued to pump in and out of you. Laburnum couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pretty sight, giving your cunt a loving kiss as you came.

“That’s it, oh, that’s my girl…”

As you calmed down, he moved up your body, caressing your cheek. If he had to pick the prettiest sight he had ever seen, it would be your face right after an orgasm.

Your eyes were hazy, tears pooling in the corners as he leaned in to kiss you again.

“You’re doing so well, so good for me… you’re going to make me lose control, looking at me like that…”

You felt his cock pressing against your warm cunt before you saw it. Precum dribbled from the tip, and he hissed the second he made contact with you.

“God…”

He looked down as your fat, sweet pussy swallowed his cock whole, barely able to hold himself back from busting into your warm hole immediately.

“S-so good…”

Laburnum tried his best to regain his composure, but fuck was it hard when you were blubbering pleas for him to start moving, clinging to him like he was your lifeline.

“N-need it, please… please!”

“Shh, little blossom… you’ll get what you need, you always will…”

His hips stuttered, causing him to let out a stifled moan as you pushed against him. The aphrodisiac had your head feeling fuzzy, and all you wanted was for him to keep moving.

Laburnum lifted your leg over his shoulder, his tail swaying happily behind him. He wanted to make some joke, at something to make you let out those cute giggles he loved to hear, but it was hard when he could feel your cunt clenching around him so tight he could barely fuck into you.

The two of you came together, his chest rising and falling slowing before he settled down, immediately beginning to tend to you.

“Does anything hurt, love? Want a snack? A bath?”

He caressed your cheek, holding you in his lap as the aphrodisiac slowly wore off. “Mmm… just… want some kisses.”

A playful smile stretched across his face, and he laughed. “Just kisses? Oh, how high main.”

His teasing went unnoticed by you, who was way too tired to do anything but hum in contentment as he smoothed out your hair and cradled you against his chest.

“I want to do this again, (Name). I…”

He laughed, sounding a bit nervous. That was strange for him, he was always playful and wearing a confident smirk or friendly smile…

“I think I… may be in love with you.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart thumped rapidly in your chest as he rested his forehead against yours. Laburnum was always so warm, dragons usually were.

He softened when your hand caressed his cheek, your fingers tracing the stubble before your thumb landed on your bottom lip. “I love you too…”

The two of you shared a smile, then laughed as you fell onto the bed, limbs tangled together.

“Of course you do, who wouldn’t love me?”

You pouted playfully as he stuck his tongue out at you before pulling you close, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Goodnight, my sweet blossom… may many nights of these be in store for us in the future…”

And for the first time in a while, the two of you felt like your hearts were full… complete.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans

[magics-neptunes-things]

Friends?

Hello everyone!

The story is happening in March 2023.

Enjoy ♥

TW : Hungover

PART 2 | PART 3

Feeling like an elephant is sitting on her head, Katie lets go of a little groan of discomfort when she wakes up. The curtains having been closed last night (or rather this morning), the Irish is unable to say what time it is. But she vaguely remembers that today is a day of and that she has plenty of time to stay in her bed, her head under her cushion, promising herself to never touch a single drop of alcohol again.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Katie puts a hand on her painful skull while keeping her eyes closed, trying to remember the events of last night. She perfectly remembers going out with the girls from Arsenal to celebrate Stina’s birthday, a dance floor and way too many cocktails.

It's while rolling on the back that Katie freezes suddenly, when her body enters in collision with another. Katie’s eyes suddenly open and she gets up on her elbows to see who is next to her. She sees nothing, however, except a back and brown hair.

She brought a girl home last night.

Lifting the sheets, Katie quickly realizes that she is dressed in a sports bra and shorty, her usual outfit when she sleeps. Her night companion is wearing an Irish football shirt with her name and number on it. Releasing the sheets, Katie lets herself fall back on her pillow, her mind walking at a hundred an hour, desperately trying to remember who she brought home last night.

Partly to avoid the humiliation of not remembering the name of her conquest, but also because Caitlin was there last night. Caitlin who almost didn't return from Australia after Christmas and who she is closer than ever. It was only when the Australian thought about not coming back that Katie realized that there was more than friendship in her feelings for her. That she’s slowly but deeply falling in love with her.

Her breakup with Ruesha dates from almost a year ago, almost at the same time as Caitlin and Lia broke up too. If they seem to have managed to remain courteous to each other despite the suffering that a breakup brings, it's far from the same for Katie and Ruesha. There is no longer any exchange between them and Katie happily ignores her ex when she has to meet her in training camps.

So it’s perfectly normal for her to move on, but Katie knows that Caitlin is struggling with her mental health and she doesn't want to impose too much on the Australian. But if Caitlin saw her leaving with another girl last night, there is not a fucking chance left. And Katie suddenly feels nauseous.

"Can you stop fucking moving?"

Katie freezes again when she hears the voice of the person next to her, the accent easily recognizable to her.

"Caitlin?"

"Shut up, god, please" moaned Caitlin, her head on her forehead, apparently also suffering from a pretty hangover.

It's at this precise moment that everything comes back into place in Katie’s mind, each of the memories taking place in the Irish’s head. And it also allows her to shake herself a little, mentally at least.

" ’m coming back" Katie mumbles, Caitlin replies only with a vague grunt.

The Irish girl almost fall in the dress that Caitlin wore last night but nevertheless manages to reach her bathroom in which she locks herself before sitting in her bathtub to call Leah. By Facetime, by habit.

"Hello?" ended up doing Leah’s voice after what feels like an eternity.

The screen is completely black, without Katie knowing if it’s because the screen is hidden or if it’s because Leah is still in bed. Not that it’s what interests her now to be completely honest.

"Leah I’m into deep"

"What’s going on?"

Leah’s voice looks more awake and Katie manages to draw the contours of her friend’s face, certifying that she is in the dark.

"I… I slept with Caitlin last night" the Irish mumbles, glancing at the door, hopping that Caitlin can't hear her.

"Yes and?"

The answer surprises Katie so much that she remains stuck for a few seconds before her emotions regain the upper hand, like a champagne cork that comes out of the bottle when shaken too much.

"What do you mean, and? That’s all you can think of? It’s Caitlin, Leah!"

"Yes well excuse me, but after having surprised you in full makeout session against your car after you went missing for about thirty minutes, I suspected what would follow"

But Katie sighs softly and pinches her nose, hoping to gather her spirits. Which is not an easy thing with a terrible hangover.

"I don’t understand" Leah continues "You are all over her for weeks. How is it a bad thing?"

"I wish it was different. What if she doesn’t remember? What if she regrets? I should never have done that when she was drunk."

"You were drunk too and from what I saw, she was entirely consenting, Kat'. You are my friend and I love you but I would have stepped in if it had been the opposite"

Katie remains silent about this, she knows perfectly that Leah is right. The blonde doesn’t hesitate to tell her friends if she thinks they are wrong. This is something the Irish woman appreciates.

"Listen, get out of your tub, go talk to her. There’s no point in taking it on yourself until you know what it’s like for her."

"She’s wearing my Irish jersey" says Katie randomly

Leah laughs and Katie can’t help but smile when she hears her, a guilty smile displayed on her face.

"But why?" asks Leah between two laughs

"She was cold and at the time I found it sexy"

Katie shrugs and Leah laughs again before smiling teasingly.

"You could have kept her warm though"

"Okay, I’ll hang up now" Katie says rolling her eyes.

"Bye!" chuckles Leah before hanging up.

Katie’s smile remains a few seconds on her face, before she realizes that she really have to leave her bathroom and go to confront the young woman who is in her bed. She nevertheless takes the time to make a passage through the kitchen to recover two bottles of water, after swallowing two paracetamol and taking others for Caitlin.

Katie is a little hesitant when entering her room, wondering if the Australian has fallen asleep again. But this is not the case, still lying on her side, Caitlin has her face turned towards the door when Katie makes her entrance.

"Hey" gently makes the youngest by mechanically pushing the door with her foot.

"If we had been at my house, I would have thought you had gone home" Caitlin mutters, following her with her eyes as she drops a pill and a bottle of water on the nightstand. "Thanks"

Katie sits by her side when Caitlin sits, swallowing in turn the medicine and some water. A little silence sets in, Katie torturing her mind to know how to approach the subject. But it’s finally Caitlin who speaks, mechanically raising Katie’s gaze on her. "So... About what happened last night..." "Yeah" But Caitlin adds nothing, her eyes dipped into Katie’s, as if she were looking for answers to questions. It’s hard for Katie to tell if the striker can find what she was looking for, but Caitlin ends up speaking again a few seconds later. "Look, if you want to act like nothing happened..." "No!" Katie abruptly grabbed Caitlin’s hand. "No. I just... do you remember everything from last night?" It’s strange for Caitlin to see Katie struggling to explain things and talk to her. She is usually known to be outspoken and fearless. Today, she seems almost embarrassed. "Is that what’s got you in such a state?" asks Caitlin, gently frowning. "In part. I know that you are not necessarily at your best moral level and sincerely I would be terribly sorry if you regret this morning" "I don’t regret anything" Caitlin gently smiled, tightening her hand around Katie’s. "Yeah?" Katie smiled back When Caitlin nods and lies on the cushions behind her, Katie goes over her to lie by her side. Warm under her duvet and looking up at the ceiling, Katie is lost in her thoughts when Caitlin resumes speaking. "I lied. I think I have a regret after all" "About what?" Katie turns her head to look at Caitlin. Lying in the same position as her, Caitlin slightly turns her head to look back at Katie. The worry that squeezed Katie’s stomach loosens a little when seeing her smile. Their hands are always in each other and Katie’s thumb mechanically draws circles on Caitlin’s hand.

"These cocktails. I’ve never had such a headache."

_____________________________________________________________

Does anyone want a Part 3 maybe ?

[lendeah]

After the Weave 4.

series masterlist

Summary: Following the Duke's murder, Elara and Astarion find themselves detained by the Flaming Fists and interrogated by detective Valeria. Somehow, they are forced to spend a pleasant evening in the barracks' basement, and the outcome is far from what they anticipated.

Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav, past Gale x OFC!Tav

Tags: Angst, Drinking to Cope, References to Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Emotional Baggage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Post-Break Up, Tav finds herself again with Astarion, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD.

Word count: 5.2k

"How come every time there is a series of murders, it's always you guys around?" Valeria asks, their pipe perched as always.

The Basilisk Gate Barracks are filled to the brim, with every fist trying to talk down the nobles assembled there. Most of them are still in formal attire, adding to the chaos of the situation. Meanwhile, Blaze Elin, a gruff woman with a thick scar running down her cheek, stands at the front of the room, trying to maintain some semblance of order. She had called all of the Flaming Fists in for an emergency meeting, and now they stand tensely, waiting for her orders.

"We have no idea who is behind these murders," she barks, voice booming through the barracks. "But I can assure you, we are working tirelessly to solve this case. I urge you all to share any information you may have so that we can bring justice to the Duke's murder. And then you can go home and rest easy knowing we are doing everything in our power to protect Baldur's Gate." Her eyes scan the room, daring anyone to go against her judgment.

Valeria flies around the room, their eyes narrowed skeptically. "That's what they always say," they spat lowly, their words like venom.

Astarion is slumped in his chair, his white hair falling across his face as he rolls his eyes dramatically. "Must we linger in this dull abode any longer? We have divulged everything we know," he complains, casting a side glance at the detective.

We both knew that was a lie, of course. We hadn't told Valeria about the spawn under the city. Or the ones in the Underdark, for that matter. It was too risky to spread the word about their existence.

But Valeria wasn't easily fooled. They perch on top of a bookshelf, piercing gaze fixed on us. "I know you're hiding something," they state matter-of-factly.

Astarion scoffs. "And what makes you think that?"

Valeria tilts their head to the side, their pipe still clenched between their teeth. "How about your sudden return to Baldur's Gate socialite? Your involvement in an apparent "charity hospital for children"? And let's not forget your companion here, which you have suddenly reunited with after months." They gestured towards me with a wingtip.

I can feel my stomach knotting with anxiety, but Astarion just laughs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh please, detective, I'm flattered that you find my life so interesting. But I assure you, the only thing I am involved in is solving this terrible murder case."

Valeria raised an eyebrow skeptically, as they calmly blew a puff of smoke.

"Is that so? Then tell me, why does every corpse we are finding present bite marks? Vampire bite marks?"

My heart skips a beat at Valeria's accusation. I know they are onto us. Astarion, however, remains once again unfazed. He leans forward in his chair, his lips curling into a sly smile. "My dear detective, are you implying I am the culprit just because I'm a vampire?"

Valeria's expression remained unreadable, their pipe still clenched between their teeth. "I'm not ruling out any possibilities," they replied evenly.

Astarion chuckles, leaning back in his chair with a casual shrug. "Well then, I suppose anyone could be the culprit."

Valeria's eyes narrow at his nonchalant attitude. "You seem awfully calm for someone who is being accused of killing multiple people," they state, their tone laced with suspicion.

Astarion's smile falters for a moment before he regains his composure. "My dear detective, I assure you, I am not responsible for these murders. Do you have any evidence to suggest otherwise?" He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. "And in this case, the simplest explanation is that there is a vampire on the loose, preying on unsuspecting victims. Just because I am a civilized vampire, doesn't mean every of my kind is." he ends with another casual shrug. Gods, he is good.

I take a sharp breath and blurt out. "You know, this could be considered vampire discrimination!"

Valeria raises a skeptical eyebrow at my outburst. "Vampire discrimination? I highly doubt that, Miss. Not when we have solid evidence pointing towards a vampire as the suspect."

I clamp my mouth shut, realizing that I may have just made things worse. Astarion gives me a warning look before turning his attention back to Valeria.

"Forgive her, detective. As you know, she tends to let her emotions get the best of her," he says with false charm.

Valeria seems to consider this for a moment before speaking again. "Then why would this vampire target specific people? The past victims were normally lower class, but the Duke and his family were well-protected and respected individuals."

Astarion shrugs again. "Perhaps it was just a simple case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Just like we were."

I can see Valeria nod reluctantly at Astarion's words, but their eyes continued to bore into us with suspicion.

"Well then, if you come across any information or leads from your kind, be sure to inform me," they say sternly before standing up from their perch on the bookshelf. "I trust you, but I will be keeping a close eye on the both of you."

We both nod solemnly and finally get up to head out. At this point, only a handful of nobles are left to be interviewed. Among them is Lady Saphira, her elegant dress sparkling in the dim light. When she catches sight of us, her painted lips curl into a warm smile and she waves us over eagerly.

Regrettably, just as we are about to exit the building, I catch a glimpse of the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon. The soft orange and pink hues cast a warm glow over the city, signaling the start of a new day. I look at Astarion with a grimace, knowing this means we are unable to walk outside. The elf lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of cover.

"Well, well, it appears we'll have to find some shelter until nightfall," he mutters.

I nod in agreement, my mind already racing with thoughts on where we could go. And then I realize: we are in the Barracks. I look to the corner of the room, where the door to a small staircase lies hidden out of sight.

"Maybe we could rest in my old basement until then?" I ask.

Astarion turns to me with a raised eyebrow. "Your basement? Well, I suppose it's better than wandering out in the open..." he says with a hint of skepticism.

However, as I lead him to the door, I notice a guard is currently standing in front of it, and he would surely notice if we were to go down. During my time here, the Barracks were often pretty empty, so I didn't worry about the Fists finding out I was using their basement as my home.

I try to call the magic to my hands to cast an invisibility enchantment, but it is so rusty from months of no use that barely a few sparks appear.

Astarion, noticing my thoughts, places a hand on my arm and smiles. "Darling, you can just ask me to cause a distraction."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the mischievous glint in his eyes. "And just what kind of distraction are we talking about?" I ask.

Astarion smirks, his charming smile reaching his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, Astarion reaches into his cloak and retrieves a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid. He holds it up to the light, the liquid sparkling like stardust. "This," he says, waving the vial playfully, "is a little something I acquired during our time apart. It's an enchantment potion that can cause illusions. But not just normal illusions, big illusions. Trust me, it'll be quite the spectacle."

I nod, dubious of the effectiveness of said potion. "Alright then, show me what you've got."

He smirks, and gets closer to my ear to whisper, "¿Ready to run?"

Without another word, Astarion forcefully throws the vial to the other side of the room where it explodes in a thousand shards. I watch in amazement as an image of a huge ogre appears in the corner of the room, letting out a deafening roar.

Panic erupts among both the soldiers and nobles as they scramble to either arm themselves and prepare for battle or run away. The Fist in front of the door immediately runs to help in the chaos, leaving the door unguarded. The image of the ogre is so realistic that even I start to panic for a moment, but then Astarion's hand grabs mine and pulls me towards the stairs. As we run, my ball gown gets caught on one of the tables, causing me to stumble and almost fall. But Astarion quickly catches me and effortlessly detaches my dress from the table.

"Come on, we need to move fast," he urges, his grip tightening on my hand.

I nod and we continue our escape. Soon, we reach the small door, and it takes all my strength to open it since I haven't used it in so long. Finally, with a loud creak, it swings open revealing a dimly lit staircase that goes down into the basement. I quickly urge him forward and close the door behind us, making sure to lock it. The sound of chaos from above fades as we hurry down the stairs into the darkness. I can feel Astarion's hand gripping mine tightly, guiding me through the narrow staircase.

As we reach the end, I see another door, this one larger and made of metal. It has a large lock on it, but before I even remember where I left the key, Astarion quickly takes out a set of lockpicks and skillfully picks the lock. The door opens with a soft creak, revealing a small underground room, barely lit from a small window to the street. Astarion collapses onto a nearby chair with a grin on his face.

"Well, that was exhilarating," he says with a laugh, catching his breath.

I take a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief as I sink down onto another chair beside Astarion. My hands shake as I begin to remove the layers of my ball gown, leaving only the outer scarlet texture that falls freely over my feet. Astarion watches me with amusement in his eyes as I struggle with the intricately designed dress. Finally, I manage to pull it off and throw it onto the floor, feeling suddenly free from its suffocating hold.

"I can't believe you had an enchantment potion on you," I say.

Astarion shrugs nonchalantly. "What can I say? I like to be prepared for any situation."

I chuckle and then take a look at my surroundings.

As I take in the room, my chest constricts. Despite it only being two weeks since I last stood here, it feels like a lifetime has passed. The room is dirtier and more somber than I remembered. A small bed sits in one corner, with a tiny window near the roof as its sole source of light. Two old chairs and a table, coupled with an old sofa, make up the rest of the barren furnishings. Empty bottles of alcohol litter the floor, along with many plates of half-eaten food. Oh, and it absolutely stinks.

I can't help but feel ashamed of Astarion's presence; I don't want him to see this place. Don't want him to realize how low I fell before he took me in.

Astarion takes note of my discomfort and raises an eyebrow. "Is everything alright, love?" he asks, concern coloring his voice.

I force a smile and shrug it off. "It's just...I didn't think it had gotten this bad," I say, trying to brush it off casually.

Astarion's eyebrows furrow in concern as he takes in the state of my basement. "What do you mean?" he asks softly.

I sigh and avoid his gaze. "I hadn't been taking care of myself properly since... since Gale left," I admit with a hint of sorrow in my voice.

Astarion's expression softens and with a tenderness that surprises me, he takes my hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm sorry, Elara," he says, sincerity lacing his words. "I didn't mean to leave you alone for so long."

I shake my head, feeling a touch of guilt for bringing up the subject. "It's not your fault, Astarion. I'm sure you had your own reasons for leaving," I say, trying to reassure him.

Astarion nods, but I can see the guilt still lingering in his eyes. He stands up and starts looking around the room, "Let's clean this place up a bit, shall we?" he says with a grin, picking up empty bottles and plates.

I can't help but laugh at his sudden enthusiasm for cleaning.

"Oh, you? Engaged in the noble art of cleaning? I am astonished."

Astarion gives me a mock offended look. "Why yes, my dear, I am capable of more than just thievery and seduction," he retorts with a smirk.

I laugh again and join him in cleaning up the mess. Together, we spend the next hour tidying up the basement. It's a surprisingly cathartic experience, feels as if we are washing away the memories of my past struggles together.

When we finish cleaning, Astarion looks around with satisfaction. "Much better," he says with a smile.

I look around as well and feel a weight lift off my shoulders. The room is no longer dark and depressing; although still austere, it feels a bit more cozy and welcoming now.

"Thank you," I say sincerely to Astarion.

Just when I am prepared to sit on the makeshift sofa, I notice a stray bottle hiding between the wall and the bed. Curiosity getting the best of me, I reach for it and realize it's still full.

"I really spent five months drowning my sorrows in ale. What a brilliant strategy, right?" I say, reaching it with a heavy sigh.

I sit defeatedly back on the sofa. Astarion looks at the bottle in my hand, deep in thought. After a moment, he turns to me with a determined expression.

"Why don't we make a different kind of toast?" he suggests, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" I ask.

Astarion settles beside me on the plush sofa, grabbing the last bottle of ale. "Let's share this final bottle, closing the chapter as it began," he suggests with a wistful smile. "And then let us make a promise to each other – to move forward as one."

I look at Astarion in surprise, not sure what to make of his sudden declaration. But something in his eyes tells me that he is being genuine, and I can't help but feel touched by his words.

I nod slowly, and Astarion opens the bottle with ease "To new beginnings," Astarion says, raising the bottle in a toast, and gulps with a grimace. "Gods, this ale is awful."

I chuckle and take a sip myself. The drink is strong and bitter, but I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would. We sit in comfortable quietness for a few moments, passing the bottle back and forth.

"I can't believe the Duke is dead..." I say, breaking the silence. "Wyll..."

Astarion nods, his expression grim. "Yes, and he won't have a clue unless he graces us with his presence again."

I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "I wish there was a way to contact them."

Astarion leans back against the sofa, taking another swig from the bottle of ale. "It seems we are also very screwed," he says bluntly."No noble will want to help a vampire now, even with a charming hero by my side."

I roll my eyes at his choice of words, but can't deny the truth in them. I bite my lip. "And now everyone will hate you even more," I murmur.

"I'm used to it by now, that is the least of my worries," Astarion shrugs nonchalantly."The problem is the Underdark spawn. We can't keep covering to sustain them if the nobles don't pay us."

Astarion takes another swig of the ale, his expression troubled despite trying to conceal it. I can't help but admire his genuine dedication to the well-being of the spawn.

"You're right, but we can't just let them starve," I say, thinking of the innocent children that were turned into spawns by Cazador.

Astarion nods in agreement. "We'll have to come up with a solution soon or else things will only get worse."

I take a deep breath and try to think of a plan. "Perhaps we could find the culprit spawn? That way, instead of being labeled as monsters, the nobles might see us as saviors in the end. Plus, you know, prevent further harm to innocent lives."

Astarion looks at me with a smirk. "Ah, always the hero. But finding the spawn? That's a risky move, my dear. They're not exactly known for their civility or cooperation. Much less yours or mine."

I raise an eyebrow at Astarion's comment. "I never said it would be easy, but it could be worth a try. We can't just sit here and do nothing while they go around killing more innocents."

Astarion nods slowly and then gives me a sly smile. "Well, looks like we'll have to go on a little hunt. We'll most certainly find them, but we must tread lightly and play our cards just right."

"I agree," I say with determination. "We can start tomorrow and see what we can find out."

A heavy silence settles between us, the warmth of the ale slowly creeping into my mind. Suddenly, I feel emboldened by the alcohol and ask the question that has been nagging at me for months: "What did you do during all that time we were apart?"

Astarion looks at me with surprise before a small smirk forms on his face. "Oh, just the usual. Drinking, gambling, and charming my way into the beds of highborn virgins."

I raise an eyebrow at him and he chuckles. "Just kidding, of course. Well, mostly kidding."

I roll my eyes at Astarion's flippant response. After what I saw at the party, I am more than sure that he has indeed been visiting a lot of bedchambers. The thought, for some reason, doesn't sit well with me.

"Seriously though, what did you do?" I press on, trying to distract my thoughts. We are so close our arms are touching, sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

"As much as I wish to boast about how I was far off better than you... I cannot" He sighs. "Hiding in the shadows once again took a toll on me, and I fear it may have shattered me completely. I never thought I would have to resort to such methods again. It was like reliving a nightmare."

Astarion takes another swig of ale before continuing. "I spent most of my time huddled in my bedchambers. My appetite disappeared, along with any sense of purpose or thought. All I could do was lay there, consumed by my own despair."

His raw confession tugs at my heart, causing it to clench painfully. My mind struggles to process this new side of Astarion - so unlike the guarded and closed-off man I thought I knew. It's almost as if he's a completely different person now, changed by the events of these past few months. Or perhaps, his sudden honesty is simply a result of the alcohol loosening his inhibitions.

I find myself reaching out to gently place my hand over his in comfort. He just looks to the wall, as if his mind is elsewhere, and keeps talking. "I was utterly alone. Everyone else had found their own happily ever after - Lae'zel fulfilling her duties to her people, Shadowheart finding her true calling, Wyll and Karlach, you know, at least they were together. And then there was you and Gale..." He looks over at me with an unreadable expression before turning his gaze back to the wall. "I couldn't help but feel envious of all of you. It seemed like everyone had moved on except for me."

I take a deep breath, his thoughts resonating so deep within me, reminding me of my own struggles back when I was alone and trying to help everyone. "I understand what you mean," I say softly, squeezing his hand lightly. "I've been there too, feeling like everyone has moved on and left me behind."

Astarion shrugs, a bitter smile on his face. "It's not their fault. It's just... hard being alone after so long. It reminded me too much of my old life."

I nod, "I can imagine how hard it must have been for you," I reply sincerely.

"Surviving wasn't easy, but I managed." He says with a hint of amusement, "Dalyria found me cowering in the bedroom after a month and gave me quite the scolding. But then she helped me dust off my pride and put me back on my feet. She knew we needed all hands on deck to deal with the spawn, and apparently, I was deemed the most capable." With a shrug, he sums it up, "And that's how it went."

His final words are a bit slurred as if the alcohol is getting to him too. I grasp his hand tightly, not wanting to let go even as the world around us spins. His skin is cold against mine and I can feel the tremble in his fingers.

"Well, we're not alone anymore. We're together." I whisper, my words also a bit slurred.

Astarion looks at me with surprise before a small smile forms on his face. "Together," he repeats, his voice muddled, before pulling back and taking another swig of the bottle. My gaze follows the movement as his strong hand grips the bottle, his soft lips enveloping the tip, his translucent eyelashes fluttering shut in pleasure. My mind reels as I watch his throat move while he gulps, and for some reason, my drunken haze makes me ache with desire for him.

His red eyes connect with mine, and I can feel myself getting flustered under his intense gaze, caught in the act.

A faint smirk appears on his lips as he takes another swig of ale. "Do you like what you see?" he teases, and his voice is now low and husky.

I have the urge to look away, a blush creeping onto my cheeks. But instead, I reply emboldened by the alcohol, "Maybe."

Astarion's eyes widen in surprise, and a mischievous grin spreads across his face. He leans closer, his breath fanning against my ear. "Well, isn't that interesting," he whispers, his voice dripping with playful suggestion. "Perhaps we should explore this newfound curiosity of yours."

My heart skips a beat as his words hang in the air, my mind buzzing with a mixture of desire and confusion. A part of me wants to push him away, to remind myself that this is just the alcohol talking, but another part of me yearns to indulge in this intoxicating connection we share. It's been so long since I've felt this desire, this need. So long since I've been touched.

Summoning up the courage, I lean in closer to his ear, our knees now touching.

"Do you like what you see?" I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. From this close, I can admire the small moles dotting his cheek, and fight the urge to trace them with my fingertip.

Astarion chuckles softly and pulls back slightly, his red eyes locking onto mine. His lips curl into a mischievous smile as he places his free hand on my thigh. His touch sends an electric jolt through my body, igniting a fire within me. "Who are you and what have you done to my dear Elara?" he asks teasingly.

Our faces are now mere inches apart, our bodies pressed against each other.

"Do you like what you see?" I repeat, surprised at how low and sultry my voice comes out.

Astarion leans in closer, his nose barely brushing mine. "I do," he replies, his voice filled with desire. "Who could resist such a stunning creature?"

The tension between us is palpable as Astarion's hand continues to trail up my thigh, his touch igniting a burning desire within me even through the thick fabric of my dress. I don't know if he is pretending anymore, my head is swimming, my thoughts clouded by the alcohol and his touch. I know he can hear my heartbeat, his pupils expanded to the point where there is no crimson in them. He licks his lips, briefly showing his fangs, and I can't help but shiver, my body remembering the way they felt on my neck.

Without fully realizing what I'm doing, I take my trembling hand to his neck, touching the bite mark there softly, and caress my way to the base of his throat. My fingers tremble as I tug on the strings of Astarion's black shirt, feeling the smooth fabric open to reveal his sculpted chest. The dim sunset light from the basement window casts a golden glow over him, accentuating his every muscle and curve. He looks like a creature carved out of marble, perfect in every way.

Astarion watches me with intense eyes as I trace my fingers down his chest, feeling the softness of his skin under my touch. His breath hitches slightly and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I can feel his hunger for me radiating off of him, and it only fuels my desire.

"How long has it been?" Astarion's hand goes up and cups my cheek gently, his thumb stroking my skin softly "How long has it been since someone touched you?"

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within me. "It's been a while," I admit, feeling vulnerable and exposed under his intense stare.

A small smile tugs at the corners of Astarion's lips as he leans in closer once more. Our lips brush lightly again, sending all kinds of electric feelings along my skin. "You are drunk," he whispers.

And then, he pulls back completely, retrieving his hand. A wave of disappointment washes over me and I can't help but whine at the lack of contact.

"B-but I want to," I say, my words almost gibberish.

He just shakes his head and gets up to get even further away, allowing me to see I wasn't the only one affected by our exchange.

"You will regret it tomorrow." He adds, "If you still want to when you sober up, I will more than oblige."

The room suddenly feels cold and empty with Astarion away from me. I can't help but feel disappointed, my desire still burning strong within my veins.

"I won't regret it," I say with determination, but my words are slightly slurred from the alcohol. "I want you."

Astarion's eyes darken with desire as he looks at me, but he shakes his head again. "Oh darling, you are clearly drunk," he repeats, "And a whiny, obnoxious one at that."

I pout, feeling rejected and frustrated. Why won't he just give in to our mutual desire? Is it really because I'm drunk? Or maybe because he thinks I'm not good enough for him? Is this even his true self, or is he simply pretending to be flirty as usual?

"Can we please go home now, precious little crybaby?" he drawled with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

My pout deepens as I watch Astarion head towards the door. "Fine," I mutter, standing up and swaying slightly as the alcohol starts to hit me harder.

Astarion's teasing grin transforms into a devilish chuckle as he observes my unsteady steps. "Oh, darling, is this your attempt at seduction?" he quips with a wink. "I won't fall for it, but I'll gladly watch you stumble."

But then he comes to stand beside me and with his firm grip, he assists me in walking up the stairs once more. The barracks lay eerily quiet and devoid of life in the cover of night, the moon casting an eerie shadow over our movements. As we walk through the empty hall, Astarion's arm finds its way around my waist for support, and my mind is still consumed by thoughts of our previous interaction. The alcohol in my system makes me more aware of his touch and the way his body presses against mine.

Before leaving the place, Astarion turns to face me with a mischievous grin on his face. "Now, shall we finish our little promise?" he asks in a low voice.

I can feel my cheeks heating up at his words and I nod eagerly. I hold out my hand "I promise to move forward from this place. And from Gale. And from the ale."

Astarion raises an eyebrow at my wobbly words, but he takes my hand in his and gives it a firm shake. "Together," he says with a smirk, his grip surprisingly steady despite the amount of alcohol we've consumed. How is he not drunk? He drank more than me!

As we make our way back to the Palace, Astarion keeps his arm around me, guiding me through the now-dark streets of Baldur's Gate. Despite the alcohol clouding my senses, I can't help but feel safe and protected by his presence, and I unconsciously lean into his touch. As we reach the metal gates of the Palace, I am starting to sober up, and he finally releases his grip on me and opens the door.

"Well," Astarion says, leaning against the door frame with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That was certainly an interesting day."

I roll my eyes at his comment, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. It's bad enough that I made a fool of myself in front of Astarion, but now he's going to tease me about it too?

"Can we just forget about it?" I mumble, trying to brush off the embarrassing events of the evening.

A cunning smirk spreads across Astarion's face as he gazes at me. "Oh, don't worry darling," he drawls. "I will most definitely forget." but his words drip with sarcasm.

I roll my eyes at Astarion's teasing comment, but I can't deny the small flicker of disappointment at the thought of him forgetting about our drunken encounter. Despite trying to push those memories away, they keep resurfacing in my mind. The way Astarion's fingers had felt against my skin, the desire burning between us... I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

Astarion leads me inside and we have barely taken two steps when two figures appear in front of us.

"Are you two drunk?"

Astarion and I freeze in our tracks as Shadowheart and Lae'zel stand before us, their arms crossed and disapproval etched on their faces. My heart stops at the sight of the two women.

I straighten myself, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. I can feel my face flushing with embarrassment, desperately wishing for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Astarion, ever the smooth-talker, steps forward with a sly grin.

"My two favorite companions!" he replies, feigning innocence. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my modest property?"

Shadowheart and Lae'zel exchange a doubtful glance before turning their attention back to Astarion.

"We've been waiting here the entire day for the both of you," Shadowheart says, her tone serious. "We heard the Duke died, and it's clear you two were entangled in the mess somehow."

Lae'zel finally speaks up, her voice cold and commanding. "We are here to deal with the wreckage you left behind."

Tag List - @astarioffsimpmain, @amazingnerd, @ayselluna

[akittenwrites]

Queen of Ice and Prince of Fire [7]

Author: @akittenwrites

Summary: Lady Y/N Stark of Winterfell has declared herself Queen in the North. That means war, against King Viserys, and also against Prince Daemon. But the Rogue Prince doesn't want to fight her.

Type: multichapter series

Chapter: seven

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 2785

Warnings: swearing, violence.

Part one.

Part two.

Part three.

Part four.

Part five.

Part six.

The ride to the Last Hearth had been fast and quiet. They had saddled some horses and abandoned Winterfell, considering it lost. She had ordered Daemon's shackles to be removed so he could ride with them, making him swear at sword's point he wouldn't even attempt to run away. She knew he wanted to go after Caraxes, so she quickly reminded him that Caraxes would be fine but he wouldn't if the dead got to him. At last, he had agreed to follow her.

Lord Karstark asked her what she was planning to do with him, quietly pointing out they could still execute him before their departure.

"We are facing an enormous threat, Lord Karstark," she responded, mounting her horse. "We do not have the luxury of time to spare and an execution is hardly a priority. Besides, killing the most powerful dragonrider in Westeros would be beyond unwise now."

Those were her last words before she rode off, following the path that would take her north. The rest of the men caught up to her quickly, and Daemon took his place at her left without another word.

As they rode next to each other she refused to look at him... at any of them. She was guilty of what was happening, she was sure of that. She wondered if Daemon was coming with them because she was forcing him, because there was no better choice, or because he still cared about her deep down. Even if they had had their blades at each other's throats a few hours ago.

It was snowing again and it didn't let up, and she shivered as she had abandoned her coat long ago. All she had now was her dress, torn to shreds, and hair too short to shield her back. She could feel Daemon's violet gaze on her, but she didn't even glance at him, her own eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Day turned to night as they approached the Last Hearth and the dark castle's torches became visible in the distance. Was she supposed to feel relieved or anxious? She brought doom with her.

Thousands of men camped around the outer walls of the castle, chatting, cooking, and warming themselves around fires. The flames, surrounded by life and hope, reminded her it was not too late.

As they approached the gates on horseback everything started to feel like a blur. She could feel everyone's silent gazes on her as she passed them by, looking at her, looking at Daemon, wondering what had happened but not daring to ask. She could hardly face her own people, crushed by the weight of her failure.

They were received by a cheerful Lord Umber, clearly glad to see them at last, yet their grim demeanor was enough for his smile to disappear in an instant. He urged them inside the castle without further questions, even if he had raised an eyebrow at the Targaryen prince she had brought with her.

Y/N didn't utter a word as Lord Karstark explained what had happened, as flashes of dead men walking in the night invaded her mind and she got lost in the visions, clutching the sides of her head and wishing for it to be over. She barely had control of herself as she and Daemon were led away by a maid, his hand finding hers to guide her when he realized she wasn't entirely present. She wasn't sure why Daemon was with her and not sent to the dungeons, but perhaps her small council knew more than they let on. Or maybe Lord Karstark was simply respecting her wishes, as she had made it clear she would need the man and his dragon to fight this battle.

They were brought into a room with a large fire burning strongly in the hearth. She sat in one of the chairs next to it as Daemon took a seat in front of her and closed her eyes, trying to regain control. The maid talked to her but Y/N wasn't listening. Shortly after a few more servants burst into the room to bring her hot tea and furs, gushing over her as she gazed into the flames, letting herself get lost in them as she ignored everyone else.

The warmth was comforting, both from the furs that now covered her body and from the fire, yet it didn't ease the persistent pressure on her chest. The flashes had stopped, but the turmoil inside her only grew.

She didn't realize they had been left alone until Daemon's voice cut through the silence.

"How long are you going to ignore me?"

She looked at him with empty eyes. He was dressed in the same clothes he had on earlier when they had fought each other, dirty and torn, and his silver hair was in a messy braid that did its job of keeping it out of his face. His eyes remained as bright as always as he stared at her.

"I have nothing left to say, Daemon." Her voice came out hoarse as she spoke for the first time since they had left Winterfell, hours ago.

"What was happening back in Winterfell?" he insisted, leaning forward.

"I already told you, I don't know what's going on." Her eyes filled with tears she didn't let fall. "Why can't you trust me?"

He stood up suddenly and strode the few steps that separated them, going around her and standing behind her. The feeling of his strong hands massaging her shoulders made her sigh and loosen up. She hadn't realized how tense she was until his fingers kneaded her aching muscles.

"I do trust you," he breathed out, "but dead men are still rising on that battlefield, and sooner or later, you will have to give me an explanation."

She wished she could give him one. She really did. But since she couldn't, she asked the question that had been on her mind for hours instead.

"Why did you come?"

He answered almost absentmindedly as his hands moved softly now, rubbing the skin on her shoulders and the back of her neck, "what do you mean?"

"When you were unshackled on the horse. Why didn't you turn it around and run away? We wouldn't have followed."

His hands wandered to her chest as he wrapped his arms around her as best as he could with the back of the chair between them. His warmth enveloped her completely and she relaxed even more, closing her eyes as she leaned back. He rested his forehead on top of her head, making her feel at peace and at home.

She could hear his breathing slowing as he answered with a whisper, "I don't know."

A few seconds passed in complete silence aside from the burning wood of the fire, and she breathed in Daemon's scent, which brought her calm and safety. Still whispering, she asked another question.

"What will you tell your brother?"

She couldn't see him, but she knew he had that look on his face he always put on when he talked nonsense with absolute seriousness.

"That I saw a greater threat to the realm and followed you to find answers."

"Is that the truth?" she inquired, playing with a strand of her hair. It felt much lighter now.

"It's not a lie," he responded, running his fingers through her dark locks as well.

She was about to ask him something else when the door creaked open and they both scrambled to get away from each other. Daemon straightened up quickly, resting his hands on the back of the wooden chair, and Y/N leaned forward as she opened her eyes to look at the intruder. It was a young woman that moved with silent, graceful steps, wearing a long red dress and golden jewelry. Y/N had never seen her before, her crimson eyes captivating her as the flames from the fire danced in them.

Lord Umber and Lord Karstark entered the room next, yet Y/N paid them no mind as she followed the mysterious stranger's movements instead. Who was she?

She didn't need to ask, for it was answered by Lord Umber as the woman took the seat Daemon had been occupying before, right in front of her.

"This is Vella, a red priestess from beyond the Narrow Sea. She arrived here a week ago with a warning. She told me she had had a vision of doom and death in Winterfell. That dead men would rise again and bring utter destruction with them." Lord Umber shook his head as he stared at the flames. "Of course, I didn't believe her." He made a pause, looking at Y/N. "Now I can see it was a mistake."

Y/N frowned as she looked at the woman in front of her, who was watching her intently. She leaned forward, examining her delicate features as she tried to understand.

"You knew this would happen?" she asked, frowning. "Why didn't you come to me?"

Vella only raised an eyebrow briefly before speaking for the first time, her voice coming out deep and sultry.

"Would you have believed me?"

Y/N's grey eyes studied Vella's before she came to an answer.

"No."

There was no point in lying to the woman. She suspected she was the type that wouldn't ask a question unless she already knew the answer.

"Then it matters not. I had been eagerly awaiting to meet you, Y/N. I wanted to know what the woman who had united the North looked like."

"And what do you think?" she challenged.

Vella stood up gracefully and walked a few steps in her direction. Y/N stood up as well, letting the furs that were wrapped around her fall to the ground, baring herself to the mysterious woman. If she had truly had visions of the future, and if she could truly see her and rumors of the power of red priests were true... she would show herself as she was.

What was left of her dress was so scant she felt naked without the furs that were now at her feet.

Everyone stayed completely silent as they exchanged looks.

The witch's red eyes didn't leave her as she extended her hand, finally touching her skin. Her fingers were warmer than expected, roaming down her neck, her chest, her breasts... Y/N's body was covered in goosebumps that Vella's warm touch faded away... until she pulled her hand away, and her bright eyes gazed into hers once again.

Y/N stood still, waiting for an answer with an eyebrow raised.

Finally, Vella spoke again.

"I see great sorrow and guilt," she claimed, bringing her hands together. "The pain inside you is unbearable."

Her eyes were shining red as they met hers, and Y/N let her continue.

"You were meant to unite the North... yet your pain blinded you and you've destroyed it instead."

Y/N frowned and tried to walk a step back, the words making her head turn. She bumped into someone and glanced back briefly to see it was Daemon's chest. He was looking at her with worry in his eyes and wrapped the furs around her again, covering her and bringing her warmth.

It was overwhelming. What was she supposed to do? Ignore the fact that this woman had looked into her soul? What she claimed she had seen was unsettling. How was it even possible? How could she even be the cause of so much death and waste?

"What are you talking about?" she asked once she could speak again, shaking her head in denial. "Northerners united because winter was coming. How am I responsible for what is happening? I wasn't meant for anything!"

She was telling the truth. Her father's death had been unexpected. It should have been him in her place. She was a barely capable replacement. And only temporarily, as her brother would take her place once he came of age.

Luck hadn't been on her side, but to think of it as her fate... it was too farfetched.

Daemon rested his hand on her shoulder, comforting her, and Y/N took a deep breath as she let his touch soothe her. Vella's eyes didn't miss it and she took a step back, understanding the hidden threat in Daemon's gaze. She focused back on the flames as she answered.

"Winter was coming, it was true. Yet your desperate attempts to prepare yourself to fight your enemies is what brought it." Vella smiled a little to herself. "Isn't that ironic? You ended up causing what you feared. But it is not your fault, as we cannot escape who we are."

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, Y/N," Daemon interjected, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She had her back glued to his torso. "Don't listen to her."

"Are you sure about that, Daemon Targaryen?" Vella's voice was loud in the silence of the room. She fixed her gaze on him as she moved in his direction, standing so close to them Y/N could see the tiny specks of gold in her otherwise red eyes. "I could look into your eyes too and tell you what I see. Yet I shall not, for I am not here for you." Her red gaze was redirected to Y/N again, making her feel as if she was burning. "I am here for her."

Y/N bit her bottom lip as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The lords that had brought this witch to her had chosen this moment to remain absolutely silent. She believed Lord Umber, and therefore, she believed this woman was capable of having visions of the future. But how much did she know, really? And how much could she gamble, as Queen in the North, considering the threat she was facing?

It wasn't an easy decision to make, but it was her job to do so.

"She knew what would happen in Winterfell, Daemon," she said, squeezing his hand. "I believe her."

Daemon took a step back, taking his warmth with him. "Just because she had a vision doesn't mean she knows what is happening!" he exclaimed. "Why are dead men walking? Isn't that the answer we were looking for? All I hear is a lot of words that say nothing."

Vella raised an eyebrow at Daemon, challenging him. "Lord Umber, Lord Karstark, and Queen Y/N know the answer to that question."

The room became silent once again as everyone stared at her, yet Daemon was the only one who seemed confused. Y/N walked toward the center of the fireplace, warming her hands as she explained.

"Winter comes, and the dead come with it. It's a prophecy," she said, shrugging. Her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what Vella told her. "I never knew... how could it happen now? I only asked for the strength to win my battles."

"No request made with an empty heart will ever reach the Lord of Light," Vella responded. "Your grief called for winter and for death. And that is what you received."

Y/N stared at her in bewilderment. She had made no request to the Lord of Light. She had asked her gods for help, the Old Gods. Yet it appeared her pleas hadn't reached them either.

"How is it possible? Why was I granted my wish? Why was it twisted?"

"A crown of old, that once belonged to a King... blood of the First Men... and the strength of your heart..." Vella's words got lost in the silence of the night. Was she implying she had used blood magic? "Yet the blood was from a wound caused by the one you love..." Vella grasped her hand and held it up, making the ruby ring glow with the light of the fire, reflecting the flames. She looked at it intently before focusing her eyes on Y/N's again. "And your tears reflected the sorrow of a heart that was strong, but broken."

Y/N looked at Daemon for support, yet he seemed as perplexed as she was.

"I did not wish for this. I did not wish for any of this. I wasn't even aware..."

"There is magic in your blood, Y/N Stark," Vella interrupted her. "So it happened. And you have to fix it."

Her grey eyes were almost teary as she stared at the woman who had claimed could help her.

"What can I do to fix it?" she asked, defeated.

Vella took one last look at her hand, at her ring, before letting it go.

"You have to fix what caused this... your broken heart."

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

Next part.

If you like my writing, make sure to check out my masterlist and my page, where you can support me or read updates on what I'm working on and leave your comments.

Have a nice day!

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Tagging: @batprincess1013 @lollaa-puff @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mamamooqa @queenmendes @chevelledahuman @thanyatargaryen @zgzgzh @boofy1998 @lovelokiqueen @kmhappybunny240 @dudde-44 @dankfarrikdin @gothicgay14 @ilovemarauders @ilovemydinoboi @asgardiandeadpoetsociety @how2besalty @kaitieskidmore1 @thhriller @omgsuperstarg @missyviolet123 @booksnink13

TAG LIST CLOSED. If you asked to be tagged and you are not here, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me tag you. Sorry. I'll use the tag #queenoficeprinceoffire so you can follow anyway.

[marketableplushieenthusiast]

Team Past Propaganda

Because I started thinking about it again and now I'm all emotional-

I want to convey in words why I chose Team Past and why I don't think it contradicts the themes of the Splatoon story modes, because while the Squid Sisters do a great job of describing my basic reasoning in the Splatfest introduction, I understand why the story modes might feel like Present or Future are the "correct" answers.

(Spoilers ahead for all story modes, including Octo Expansion and Side Order)

Nearly every Splatoon villain is stuck in the past or heavily influenced by it in some way.

Mr Grizz and Tartar are the obvious ones: Grizz wants to see the return of mammals, and Tartar is disgusted with the current ex-sea life running the planet and wants to wipe it out and start over in favor of creatures more like his beloved humans.

In a way, being born of the regrets and desires of some escaped Octolings to return to their more orderly roots, Order/Smollusk can also be described as being motivated by the past. Even DJ Octavio does much of what he does because of the outcome of the Great Turf War and old grudges.

A recurring overall theme of these story modes, started in Octo Expansion and then expanded on (heh) in Rise of the Mammalians and Side Order, is that you can't turn back the clock, and you can't escape change. Even if Tartar and Grizz had "won", nothing would have brought back Tartar's scientist or the old mammals. In fact, their plans would have, ironically, destroyed humanity's last remnants. (And don't get me started on the thematic symbolism of Mr Grizz becoming biologically more fuzzy ink monstrosity than actual bear-)

I don't think it's a stretch to say that Grizz at the end of RotM is speaking with authorial intent in his final moment of clarity: "The times have changed. The world can never be as it was. Moving forward...is the future."

So the point of these story modes is that you can't move backwards. You can't rewind time; what's done is done, what's past is past, and obsessing over it and trying to revive it at the cost of the present and future isn't healthy (and doesn't work anyways).

But that doesn't mean you should never look back.

Rise of the Mammalians, like every other story mode dating all the way back to the Wii U, has optional lore, and it dropped an absolute bombshell for us lore nerds: the current ex-sea life of the Splatoon world didn't just evolve after humanity fell, their evolution was influenced by the desires of the last humans in Alterna. The species grew to leave the water because the Alternans' last wishes were to see the sun again. (And it was somehow transmitted through crystal detritus, which is some interesting sci-fi, but sure, why not?)

And this, in my opinion, is a pretty emotional reveal, and is treated as such.

Suddenly, all the significance given to Calamari Inkantation over the series pulls itself together - the fact it is an old, practically ancient folksong, described as being part of Inklings' very DNA, yet with the power to compel Octolings to seek the surface as well, and even transform Smallfry? If all that isn't enough to spell it out for you, the Inkantation is sampled in the credits' theme Wave Goodbye... Chanted by human vocals. The song that's been an Inkling battle anthem and the inciting moment of so many Octoling character arcs was passed down by humanity. Those scrolls from Splatoon 1 casually dropping that our colorful squid-kid world is a post-apocalyptic one come full circle.

Rise of the Mammalians tells us not to get so obsessed with the past that we try to turn back time... But in the same breath, reveals the past of the Inklings and Octolings and sea creatures we love so much and uses it to tie them together in the present.

Even Marina, a character who can "take or leave" her past and continually, consciously chooses to focus on the present (and to a certain extent, the future), goes out of her way to create the Memverse to help sanitized Octolings regain their memories of the past. She's also happy to reunite with Acht, who she shares a lot of history with. An exclusively present focused view could theoretically tell those Octolings that they don't need their memories to be whoever they want to be now, or could bristle at someone showing up from a problematic past, but Marina clearly doesn't hold to anything like that. She values the present the most, but she doesn't scorn the past.

And I think that's what I like about this Splatfest so much, and why it made me think about my choice for so long. Like Chaos vs. Order, (where they're careful to make clear that Pearl doesn't hate the status quo, and Marina doesn't necessarily want nothing to ever change), I feel they were careful to try and be clear that there isn't a definitive "correct" answer to this one. Callie herself points out at the start of her defense that all three of Past, Present, and Future are important, and I agree.

Splatoon as a series emphasizes living in the Present and not being afraid of a changing Future, but I believe it also values the Past. It loves to show where its characters and world came from to inform a little more about who they are today. (Just look at each member of Deep Cut getting a dedicated Sunken Sea Scroll about their family history!) I believe it takes a similar stance I do, that while your Past doesn't entirely define you (again, see Marina), it is nonetheless important - crucial even - to understanding who you are.

And someday, as you move onward through the present towards a brighter future, you'll look back at today - at the past - to see how far you've come.

So, uh, yeah. This cephalopod game makes me emotional and I love finding excuses to blab about it, so might as well get it in words before the actual Grand Fest starts.

If you read this whole thing, thank you so much, and whatever team you pick, I wish you the best!

[biweeklydavekat]

Ungays your gays. (They regay upon seeing eachother tho)

MAGNETS. I WILL NOT ELABORATE.

[jewishdainix]

LIBERAL realm of the elderlings

WinTRANS vestrit

The liveship ViVACCINE

ReGAY Farseer

Civil briLESBIAN

Fitzchivalry farseer

StarLEFT Birdsong

Molly NoseGAY

[patheticpretending]

alr more regay whoo woo !!

Gon draw more soon yeah probs

[the-one-and-only-moldy-cheese]

Part one and two regay play time

[vlnamiko]

You only win if I quit💫❤️‍🔥 👏

🎔 Blog Post 🎔

❧ @brior.sl | ❛ Halle Set ❜ | ╰┈➤ @treschic_sl Release ♥ : http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/RegaI/145/127/753

❧ @lmndrp.sl | ❛ Party Sippers ❜ | ╰┈➤ Mainstore Release ♥ https://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Sky%20Castle/214/203/2491

ミ★

ミ★

ミ★

ミ★

[boudicca]

help heba and her family rebuild their lives 🇵🇸

heba is a mother of four children (including anas) from gaza, who has been displaced several times since her home was destroyed. the family are currently in deir al-balah, where the children are trying to continue their disrupted education despite the unsafe situation in the refugee camp. heba hopes to rebuild the family home in addition to purchasing groceries, medicine, and supplies that the family need to survive.

this campaign was made nearly two months ago and has only received $112 toward its $55000 CAD goal as of 01/09. please join me in supporting heba, anas and his siblings!

please note — as far as i can tell, this fundraiser has not been vetted, but it was verified as belonging to heba and anas by siraj (@/siraj2024), who has himself been verified. it is also being run by the same person as siraj's own campaign. (if anybody is able to fully vet this campaign, please send me a message!)

[alexiethymia]

Another thing I love about HitsuHina is how Hitsugaya hardly gets mad, if at all, at Momo. In a way, it’s a sign of his maturity from when he used to get annoyed when she ruffled his hair or called him Shiro-chan in the past.

He usually has three responses (well actually four) when someone opposite of him irks him. If it’s an opponent or someone he’s not close to, he’s cool, placid, formal (exception: Aizen and Gin hence I say four responses). If it’s more lighthearted, say friends or comrades, and they hit his pet peeve like not calling him taichou or treating him like a child, he gets visibly mad and annoyed (Matsumoto, Ichigo etc.). But the same actions which would otherwise ensure a glare towards any other person does not garner the same reaction whenever Hinamori does it. He always asks her to call him Taichou, but even though she’s the worst offender (barring Ichigo), he never gets mad. It may be tinged with teasing or resignation (and even that smile that one time) but he doesn’t get mad.

This is at play at lighthearted moments, and even in more serious moments (where it gets taken advantage of). He instantly forgives her when she says sorry, and he can’t even bring himself to get mad at her regai, mere images of her. Despite that they intended to kill him, he says it’s fine and can only be relieved the real Hinamori wasn’t involved (which is a whole other post in that his complex about Hinamori not getting hurt has transcended from physical harm to emotional harm as well. he couldn’t stand seeing her bleed and now he doesn’t even want to make her cry, however indirectly.)

In the words of another post, Hitsugaya has always treated Hinamori with utmost gentleness and delicacy compared to any other character (except his grandma).

But that is reciprocated on Hinamori’s end too. Even as she might get mad when he teases her, even when she thought he killed her captain, she couldn’t bring herself to be enraged at him, only confused and heartbroken.

[joeemaru]

regayed the joemaru pokémon thing how r we feeling (don’t answer that) ANYWAYS give me joemaru goober draw requests my brain can only produce so many ideas.