#the ideas are many but the hands are hurting

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Puppy Love.

Pairing: Yandere!Yuuji x Reader x Yandere!Yuuta

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Puppy!Yuuta, Puppy!Yuuji, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Biting, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, and Obsessive Behavior.

You heard Yuuji, first.

 He’d always been the louder of the pair, not that it was a very steep competition. You hadn’t had him for very long, but—well, it was less that he came out of his shell quickly and more that he’d never had a shell at all. It only taken a day or so for him to get used to the idea of living with you and Yuuta full-time, a week for him to start acting like he’d always been a part of your little family, and another month before he started pawing at your bedroom door at night and whining when you reminded him that you preferred to sleep alone (meaning: without multiple two-hundred pound hybrids draped across you). He was energetic, overly friendly, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to call him disobedient or difficult. You figured having a more, for lack of better phrasing, dog-like hybrid in the house would be good for Yuuta, bring out his more instinctive side. In reality, the added stress of an overly hyper roommate had only worked to make him just a little more anxious than he already was, but you still thought it was good for him. If nothing else, Yuuji gave Yuuta something to focus on that wasn’t you, and Yuuta could use more distractions.

But Yuuji, though—He was what you should’ve been focusing on, at the moment. Through the haze of exhaustion, you could hear the door creaking open, the muffled sound of padded feet on carpeting and the tiny, almost inaudible vocalizations Yuuji never seemed to realize anyone else could hear. Soon enough, you felt the foot of the mattress dip as he clambered onto your bed. Any other night, you would’ve forced yourself to sit up and tell him to leave, would’ve called on the dozens of books and hundreds of blogposts you’d read about hybrid obedience training and found the strength to ‘reinforce boundaries despite personal feelings’, but you were tired beyond the point of discipline, and Yuuji didn’t mean any harm. One night of letting him curl up next to you wouldn’t hurt, even if you did make a mental note to show Yuuta some extra affection in the morning – just to keep the scales balanced. For all their many differences, they were both prone to crying favoritism.

You never stirred, but you settled deeper into place, curling into yourself as Yuuji remained at your feet. You might’ve fallen asleep entirely, if Yuuji hadn’t spoken.

His voice was quiet, low, audibly trepidatious. It reminded you of Yuuta’s nervous, stuttering inclination, although not quite as unsteady. “Are you sure it’s alright to…?”

“I am.” You weren’t sure who you expected to answer, but the sound of Yuuta’s voice almost startled you awake. It was normal for Yuuji to bend the rules. Yuuta was supposed to know better. “She’s asleep, right? Just don’t wake her up.”

Yuuji didn’t respond, but you felt the sheets draped over your shift, a warm hand curl around your calf. For as little reassurance as Yuuta had provided, it seemed to be enough for Yuuji.

It was half curiosity and half fatigue that kept you quiet as Yuuji moved around you. Whatever they might’ve been up to, nothing could’ve seemed worse than having to wake up and sacrifice much-needed sleep for the sake of scolding your (usually angelic) pets. At worst, you’d wait until you could catch them in the act or, better yet, grit your teeth and bare it until they left. Anything not to have to deal with this for another eight hours.

You rolled onto your side, twisting your leg out of Yuuji’s hand and letting out a soft groan as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t a subtle position, let alone an inviting one, but Yuuji only whimpered, only edged closer to you. This time, when he touched you, it was to take up your shoulder – his hold gentle and breathing heavy as he nudged you onto your back. Whatever he was doing, he seemed determined to see it through. It might’ve been more admirable, if you hadn’t been so confused.

You felt your sheets pull away from you next, then another hand on your ankle, Yuuji’s rough claws pressing lightly into your skin as his loose grip flexed. You felt him draw your legs apart, and with the corner of your mouth already quirking downward, you started to open your eyes, to sit up and—

Suddenly, you felt something wet and warm press into your cunt, and you stopped moving entirely.

Whatever lingering exhaustion you might’ve felt was swiftly replaced with cold, pointed terror. This time, you forced yourself to hold still, it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity, but an abrupt and paralyzing fear.

It wasn’t a feeling Yuuji seemed to share. His tongue was already moving across the length of your slit, his drool already soaking into the silk of your panties. He was making those noises, again; deep and throaty, closer to the sounds a prowling animal would make than anything remotely similar to human speech. Both of his hands found their way to your ass, claws biting into the plush flesh as he buried his face in your pussy. He was just as rough with his mouth – his pointed canines ghosting over the inside of your thighs and catching on the material of your panties, his broad togue laving over your covered entrance as if he could taste you through the fabric. It was only when he bowed his head, when the bridge of his flat nose ground against your clit that you started to wonder if he actually could, but forced yourself not to linger on the idea for very long. Thinking about what he was doing, assigning a motive to his actions – that would only make this worse. Thinking at all would only make this worse.

You bit down on the side of your tongue with as much force as you could afford to use, willing yourself to hold still, to not react – a wounded animal, playing dead as to not attract the attention of a predator. You felt Yuuji’s hands shift, calloused fingertips pressing into your thighs, then—

“Stop.”

Yuuta. Wonderful, miraculous, well-behaved Yuuta. You would’ve sighed, if you weren’t holding yourself so stiff. You could hear him moving closer, too – his footsteps feather-light compared to Yuuji’s. You braced yourself to break up a fight (there’d been a few when Yuuji first came home with you, when you first realized that Yuuta had never learned to share), but rather than barking, growling, any of the sounds that came with two animals trying to tear each other apart, there was only rustling fabric, another shift in gravity as Yuuta positioned himself by your side. “Y-you’re doing it wrong,” he stammered, and something deep inside of you seemed to curl up and die. “You have to take her clothes off first. Otherwise, she won’t feel anything.”

It was almost strange, hearing him take charge. In any other context, you might’ve been proud.

Yuuji whined, but obliged. His nails scraped against your hips as he balled his fist around the fabric and tore, making no effort to spare the delicate fabric. The remaining scraps were discarded with just as little care, and before you could fully wrap your mind around what was happening, he was back to lapping at your cunt. With the only barrier between you gone, it felt less like he was trying to eat you out and more like he was trying to eat you alive – his tongue too thick and too long, his hands too big and too prone to groping at whatever was underneath him, the boundless energy you were so used to finding either infinitely adorable or impossibly exasperating sudden not quite as harmless than you’d always considered it to be.

The next time he found your clit, you couldn’t stifle your reactions – little, half-choked whimpers and moans escaping despite your pursed lips. Your hips twitched, and for the first time, you felt Yuuji draw back willingly. He was such a sweet dog. Even with your eyes clenched shut, you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his ears flopping in the same direction and his big, dark eyes going full puppy-dog. Usually, you’d melt at the sight, give him whatever he was asking for and comfort him the best you could, but you didn’t have much comfort to spare, and Yuuta was already answering on your behalf.

“That means she likes it,” he explained, his voice a little quieter, a little more airy than it’d been before. “Keep going, she’ll make more.”

There was a short lapse, passed in silence. For a second, you let yourself believe he’d come to his senses, that he might stop, but it was only for a second. His response was enough to dash any remaining hope you might’ve had. “…will she get louder?”

“Mhm.” And then, with the slightest note of pride, “She does for me, at least.”

And just like that, Yuuji’s head dipped, his mouth latching onto your pussy with a renewed concentration. You willed yourself not to move, not to think, not to do anything that would mean having to open your eyes and acknowledge what was happening, but it was impossible not to feel the heat of his mouth against your cunt, not to let the sounds of saliva and arousal against tongues and skin seep into the back of your mind and tint the pleasure slowly starting to pool at the pit of your stomach with a vicious, sickeningly sweet, nectar-like quality. It wasn’t long before your own pitiful noises were just as difficult to suppress, before your hips were jutting upward involuntarily to meet Yuuji’s mouth, before you could feel a mix of drool and slick and every other ungodly thing pooling on your sheets beneath you. Yuuta shifted beside you, edging close enough for his thigh to press against your arm. “You’re—You’re making a mess, she’ll be mad if—”

His voice cut out abruptly, drowned out by a sudden, bubbling moan from Yuuji. Yuuta tried to catch his attention again to the same result until, finally, there was a low growl. Yuuji yelped has his face was shoved further into the space between your thighs – Yuuta pushing down on the back of his head, as little as you wanted to picture your sweet Yuuta doing something like that – but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his lapping only seemed to get faster, more reckless, more wild. You didn’t want to, no part of you wanted to cum because of your pet’s mouth, but you could feel the pressure mounting, the heat building, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his tongue as you reached your climax.

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from crying out as you came, any hope you might’ve had of making it through this without letting either Yuuji or Yuuta know how much of it you’d been conscious for immediately abandoned. You tried to make good use of your adrenaline, to shove Yuuji away and run, but he’d always been strong, even for a hybrid, and he didn’t even have to pull away to pin your hips to the mattress and nurse you through your orgasm, his tongue now fucking into you unabashedly. He only stopped when the last of your aftershocks had died out, when it was all you could do to lie limp and mutter all the little ‘no’, ‘stop’, ‘please’s that you’d pictured yourself screaming only seconds ago. Even then, the separation wasn’t made by choice – no, it was Yuuta who finally, finally dragged him off of you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see his fingers knotted in Yuuji’s untamable hair, his knuckles white and his grip steadfast. By the time he let go, Yuuji’s back was straight and he’d gone surprisingly quiet – his dark eyes glassy and fixed on yours. By the time you could force yourself to look to Yuuta, he wasn’t much better. He was focused on you, too, but he didn’t look quite as dazed, quite as mindless. His lips were parted, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing the expression he’d worn when you first brought Yuuji home, all displaced resentment and palpable betrayal. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might’ve called it anger.

Yuuji broke the silence. He whined sharply, slumping forward and kneading down where his hands were still planted on your hips. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him to get down, to get out, but Yuuta cut in before you had the chance to spit anything out. “Turn her over. It’ll be easier if she’s on her stomach.”

Yuuji didn’t hesitate. You felt his hands on your midriff, and then, you were on your chest, Yuuji’s form hunched over you as he ground something stiff and hot and leaking against your ass. You tried to push yourself up, to get away, but you were barely able to get your knees underneath you before Yuuji’s arms were around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his pointed teeth bared against the side of your throat. He didn’t growl, didn’t bite, but you went still regardless. You didn’t think Yuuji would hurt you, but you never would've thought he would do this, either.

Whatever aggression he might’ve felt faded quickly – as soon as he started rutting against your ass. You could feel him panting against your throat, his breath humid and stifling, and his chest pressing into your back. He was too close. He was too much. When he spoke, it was almost deafening, even if you knew it couldn’t be much more than a mumble. “Hurts so bad,” he muttered, as his cock ground uselessly against your ass, your thighs. “Been hurtin’ so bad since you took me home. I was so happy when Yuuta told me you could help, and—and, that you wouldn’t mind, and—”

His voice cut out abruptly as the blunt head of his cock caught on your entrance and, with a cracked whine, thrust into you. There was no time to adjust, to block out – just a sudden heat inside of you and the immediate, overwhelming fullness of his cock battering the walls of your pussy. “Off,” you half cried, half screamed – your voice a jagged, shaking mess. “Get down, stop, get—”

But Yuuji wasn’t listening. His tongue lapped clumsily at your neck as he fucked into in slow, languid thrusts – his hips slamming into your ass with enough force to bruise. You went limp, sobbing openly into your sheets, but Yuuji was strong enough to hold you up on his own, to not have to care what state you were in underneath him. So caught up in your own misery, you didn’t notice Yuuta moving until he was in front of you, until his hand had worked its way underneath your chin and tilted your head back far enough for your tear-clouded gaze to find his. His expression was that same mix of resentment and pity and bitter, bitter anger. Still, when your eyes met his, the corner of his lips quirked up, some of the harsher lines around his eyes fading into nothing.

“I wouldn’t be this rough with you.” His tone was flat, softened. He ran his thumb over your cheek, leaning down just far enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head. “I would be a good mate. You don’t need anyone else.”

Again, he leaned in, slotting his lips against yours with a feather-light sort of gentleness. At the same time, you heard Yuuji moan, felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, and started to wish you couldn’t feel anything at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #hybrid au #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jututsu kaisen imagines #yandere itadori yuji #yandere yuji #yuji x reader #yuta x reader #yandere yuta #yandere okkotsu yuta

[emphistic]

hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?

A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO

PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you

“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”

The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.

“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?

“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”

“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”

“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.

Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.

“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.

“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”

“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”

“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”

“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”

“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.

“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.

“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”

Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”

“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”

“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”

“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.

“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”

“No. And I hope it stays that way.”

“I—how dare you.”

That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.

But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?

Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”

“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.

“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”

“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?

It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.

“Uhh, I’m sorry—”

“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.

“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”

“Because I’m her prom date.”

“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.

Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Dude.”

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

[lives-in-midgard]

A Little Different

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: When Bucky shows your daugther his new look you get an interesting and cute reaction from her.

Word Count: 940

Request: Can I please request a (Everyone lives au!) husband!Bucky x fem!wife!civilian reader where they have a a daughter who’s a little under a year old? [See full request here]

A/N: Thank you for sending me this request! I loved this idea so much and have a few more ideas for this family and maybe we will read more about them!

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

It’s been a few years since you and Bucky met each other. Everything started like a normal day for both of you until you were on your way home from your favorite bookstore and a man followed you and then started attacking you. Luckily, Bucky was right around the corner and came to save you. You weren’t hurt too badly, but Bucky was so worried and made it his mission to make sure that you were okay. He took care of you and looked after you for the next few days. You enjoyed having Bucky around and he really enjoyed your company too. A few weeks passed when he finally got the courage to ask you out.

You went on many dates and had so much fun together. You loved each other so much that one day Bucky decided to ask you to marry him. The way he asked you was so beautiful and perfect. The place and the words Bucky chose were so special.

The wedding was so beautiful. Your friends and family came, even the Avengers came and were now good friends of yours.

A few months passed when you told Bucky that you were pregnant. He was so happy and you were both so happy to start a family together.

So, that’s where you and Bucky were now. Living in a house with your own family. Bucky, you and your daughter Luna.

You just came back from bringing your daughter to the kindergarten when Bucky came home from his mission. And wow he looked so different…suddenly he had short hair and no beard. You stood there in silence for a second, admiring him, and Bucky started to chuckle.

“Is my gorgeous wife shocked by my new look?” You blushed and walked closer to Bucky.

“A bit, yes, but it looks so good on you Buck.” You said, placing your hand on his cheek.

“Thank you, doll.” He said and then kissed you passionately. When you pulled away, you hugged each other tightly.

“I’m so happy to be home with you and I can’t wait to see Luna.” Bucky said with a smile while holding your hand.

“Oh, Luna is going to be so happy…every day she asked when you’re coming home and walked around with a picture of us.” You giggled and Bucky’s smile widened.

“But now you have to tell me when you decided to get this new look?” Bucky chuckled and then told you why he got the new look and that it had to do something with his mission, but he really liked it and so did you. The big question is what will your daughter say about Bucky’s new look?

After a lot of talking, cuddling and kissing with Bucky, it was time to pick up Luna. You and Bucky decided that you would pick her up and he waits at home to surprise her.

As you and Luna went out of the car and walked to the house, Bucky was waiting outside the house.

“Oh, look who is here, sweetheart.” You said, looking at Luna who just looked at Bucky without saying anything. You and Bucky started to chuckle because it looked like she didn’t recognize him. Bucky walked closer to Luna and knelt down when Luna suddenly shook her head and walked behind you, looking at Bucky sadly.

“Princess, it’s me, daddy.” Bucky said in a soft voice.

“NO” she said, looking up at you and started to sniffle.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s daddy.” You said again and she looked at Bucky confused.

“I have an idea.” Bucky said, taking off his jacket, so his daughter could see his metal arm better.

“Look, princess.” He reached for his daughter, who now began to smile.

“Daddy” Luna ran into Bucky’s arms, and he started laughing as his daughter held him tight.

“Missed you.” She mumbled, looking up at him and making grabby hands. Bucky smiled, picked her up and held her in his arms. Luna started giggling, and then touched where Bucky’s beard was before he shaved it and giggled. You and Bucky chuckled at your daughter’s cuteness.

“Daddy, different.” She mumbled.

“Yes sweetie, you’re right, daddy looks different, but he’s still the same.”

“The same.” Luna mumbled and hugged Bucky. You and Bucky smiled at each other and then he softly kissed Luna’s forehead. Then your and Bucky’s daughter looked up and laughed.

“Love you daddy, love you mommy.” She looked at Bucky and then to you before laying her head back on Bucky’s shoulder.

“We love you too, snugglebug.” You said, placed a kiss on her cheek and then on the cheek of your husband.

“I love you” You told Bucky.

“And I love you, doll.” Bucky said with a smile.

“How about we go inside and cuddle.” Bucky asked when he noticed how sleepy his little princess got.

“That’s a good idea, right honey?” You looked at her and softly stroke her hair with your hand.

“Cuddle” She said in a sleepy voice. You followed Bucky inside the house and into your bedroom. Bucky gently placed Luna in the middle of the bed and laid next to her and you on the other side, so she was in the middle. After you placed the blanket over you and Luna, she hugged Bucky tighter. You smiled and then gently hugged her from behind.

After a while Luna fell asleep and so did you. You and Bucky love your family so much. Bucky is so happy and still can’t believe that he is finally living a happy life, especially after everything he has been through. Finally, he has everything he ever dreamt of.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @buckys-wintersoldier | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #sebastian stan

[deathbxnny]

Alrighty cool, thank you for clearing that up (and in such a timely manner too)!

So, lemme cook here... with some Angst + Hurt/Comfort >:D

Arlecchino with a Fem!S/O who's the "Mother" to the children of the House. She was among the survivors of the previous Knave's regime over the House of Hearth. With her and Arle having had perhaps a kind of mutual crush that was only truly pursued after Arle killed "mother".

Basically, the scenario for the request is when Arlecchino' and her's S/O are taking care of one of the kids of the House after they're badly injured after a mission, and... needles to say... they don't make it. And during when Arle and S/O are visiting the kid's grave to pay their respect's, S/O begins to muse "you'd think I'd be used to having to bury children, after..." before starting to break down.

Ooooh, I love your brain, Anon!! Thank you so much for this great request!! I have to admit that whilst writing this, I actually liked the idea of making this super angsty and kind of bitter (like most of my fics lmao-) so I hope you like it despite the lack of comfort anyway-

Content: Heavy angst, vague mentions of past child abuse, murder, death, reader is Female and referred to as "Mother/wife", mentions of heavy injuries and blood, controlling behavior from/ooc Arlecchino?, kind of bitter ending, children dying, grief Reader has she/her pronouns ((Not proofread!!!))

Buried angels and that odd wish to live. (Arlecchino x Fem!Reader)

In a way, you often wondered why the young ones often wished to live when they knew that their end was nearing. Their eyes would widen, breaths becoming sharper and shorter, mouths closing and opening in panic before they'd whisper those words you had heard so many times. Their deaths always followed closely after, eyes dimming, their soul finally disappearing with the blown out candles, the sweet scent mingling with the smell of blood and burnt flesh. In the light of the moon filtering through an open window, you'd see the grim reaper staring at you in mirrors and your crimson stained palms, a thoughtful look on her face, one asking a simple question she might forever ask you.

"What did you expect?"

And you'd reply by looking away from your own image, away from the guilt and self-doubt and into the eyes of the woman who made all these children utter that odd wish in the first place.

Your hands shook, held up high as you peered into the crime of a mother who couldn't save her child, raised as though pleading for the forgivness of a god that was mightier than the one you worked for. One that was less cruel, despite the heart everyone claimed she had. And yet, they were enveloped by a towel instead, that wiped away the sins and hurt, even if just for a moment. "There is... nothing we could have done to save her, Mother." Lyney whispered quietly to you, perhaps afraid of being too loud and disturbing someone who couldn't even ever bother to hear him anymore. He tried to be reassuring, but it did little when you just couldn't look away from your wife.

Arlecchino. The Knave. A highly ranked harbinger, whose heart always belonged to you from the start, although with great difficulties that took you years to overcome.

The first time she made you stain your hands with blood was when she killed the woman that raised you two, the first and only woman you ever called "Mother." Although the gentleness and nurturing part of her title was just a simple facade, it still shaped you both greately. You had sworn to do better, to become a better mother to all the children you both took in after marriage and Arlecchino... she seemed to have trned against that title. She believed that being a "father" was more fitting. The right way to raise the children of the Hearth family. Cold and detached, yet firm and guiding.

It made you opposites at times. Painfully different opposites. You became a secret haven of safety for the children, a place they can hide away in, whenever their "Father's" wrath came after them. And you've fought so hard to be this gentle. You killed, murdered, slaughtered your way out of fate. You dragged yourself out of hell, you bled, you cried endless tears. You wanted to prove that you could do better and you ultimately did now... or so you thought. You began doubting it years ago, and it's what made you find their wish to live so odd. Was it an instinct, or did they actually view their life's with you two as desirable, something to live for, when all they did in the end was suffer?

"Mother." Lyney said again, this time a little louder, this time enough to make you glance up at him. His face was a blurry shadow, the light falling over his shoulders and illuminating his head like a halo, as he pushed the towel rather hastily into a nearby laundry basket. You'd never get the stains out, and so it would most likely be thrown away, perhaps burried with the young girl. "Let's... get you cleaned up, okay? I... we will take care of the rest." The change in his wording made you press your lips together. It wasn't anyone's job to do this except your own, and for a moment, you imagined yourself curling up next to the child that died crying and begging for you to save it.

You stood up only barely on shaking knees, trembling hand reaching out to close the small girls eyes, and you could feel the cold tears and skin stinging your palm. "It is alright, Lyney. Your father and I will take care of her ourselves..." You looked over your shoulder at the woman who had yet to move or say anything ever since she silently entered the room a while ago. You could see the cold glint of her eyes in the dark, her face otherwise covered by the shadows as she sat calmy and collected in her chair. She knew it was over the moment the girl was brought in by a couple of Fatui agents, th failure of her mission being crystal clear by the deep wounds and burns on her body. She never stood a chance. She wasn't experienced enough, not skilled enough. But the weak get eaten, as the Knave would often say.

Lyney gave you a hesitant look, his mouth opening to protest before he stilled at his Father crossing his legs expectantly. He understood the silent order. "... Ofcourse, Mother. Call my name if there is anything I can do for you." He said, a hand on his chest as he bowed before quickly taking his leave. When the door creaked open, you could have sworn to see the flickers of Lynette and Freminet staring back at you solemnly before they disappeared in the presence of their brother. You stared at the closed door for an unknown while, nearly zoning out, until you let out a shaky sigh. "Make her grave beautiful, perhaps with a blue ribbon attached to it. She loved those." You muttered, the exhaustion finally hitting you full force and making you feel faint. Your body felt heavy, feet dragging across the floor as you also made your exit, the only awknowledgement you received being in the form of the woman leaning her head against her palm idly whilst she closed those cursed eyes of hers.

---

There wasn't much of a funeral for the child.

A couple Fatui agents simply made a hole in the ground like they did with all the others and then lowered the small casket into it, before tossing dirt back in until it disappeared and only the stone with her was left as proof that the child ever even existed. It was a routine at this point, one everyone was used to. Everyone but you. Perhaps the years had made you soft. Perhaps the love and gentleness you gave these children had made you weak. But here you were, standing under the rain and staring at the grave for hours now, unmoving. The water had drenched through your clothes, ran down your face, made you shiver from the cold, despite feeling too numb to fully realise that. Arlecchino stood at your side, an umbrella laying in the wet dirt by her heeled feet from when you pushed it out of her hands and away from you defiantly.

The silence was deafening, filled with the constant tapping of water against your clothes, the metal on the Knave's uniform, and the stone of the sea of graves around you. "How many..." You whispered weakly, trying to form words through incoherent thoughts and the lack of sleep you've had lately. "... do I have to see die before it's enough?" Arlecchino said nothing, and you were nearly convinced that she didn't hear you if it wasn't for her hand twitching.

You let out a disbelieving laugh, a hand covering your face, trying to ease the pain that plagued you deeply. "You'd think that I'd be used to burying children by now... but I... it hurts me." You didn't want to break. In fact, you had never broken before. But as you stood there amongst the many angels that you burried, the many angels that had all once stained your hands red, you began to wonder why you ever even agreed to this. You weren't like your wife. You couldn't be a "Father". You just didn't want to be one.

You buried your face into your hands, imagining the suffocating feeling of their final wish being the same as the pain of strangulation. They reached for the skies and reached for freedom they could only brush shortly with their fingertips before they were covered in dirt to never see what they desperately yearned for again.

"We always took pride in having become something better, different than her... and yet look at us, Peruere! We just became exact copies of her instead! Oh, the shame!" You whispered through strained sobs, voice distorted as you crumbled to the ground in guilt. You had been defeated, and yet Arlecchino still stood so tall, her eyes staring at your shivering and trembling form. She didn't say a word, or perhaps she didn't know what to say. "How many children will you make me stain my hands for?" You asked finally, but the silence told you all.

Peruere loved the children you raised together. But Arlecchino, the Knave, had an objective, a mission. Eat or be eaten, a reality that even hurt her deep down. And yet the curse she had since birth prevented her from feeling it any further than a passing acknowledgement.

"... Stand up, (Y/N). We need to get home... our children await us." She simply responded after your heavy breaths became shallow, and you simply laid there limply at the foot of the grave. But her voice conveyed a certain gentleness she only ever extends to you. It was like the warmth of a summer rain, refreshing and light as it rippled through your heart. With swollen eyes, you watched her reach an ungloved hand out to you, her gaze expectant and yet so unreadable. You felt like a child that powered itself out after a tantrum, the exhaustion and defeat crippling your soul, when you finally just took her hand after what felt like a long moment of consideration.

She hummed a gentle praise against your ear as you slumped against her, face pressed to her shoulder whilst you trembled now from the cold that nipped at your skin through your drenched clothes. Arlecchino wrapped an arm around you, her pensive and yet still so stern gaze drifting through the graveyard filled with those buried angels, as you often called them. Perhaps it was a moment of calm reflection, that made her grab onto your face and wipe away a tear.

"You are nothing like her." And yet, the Knave didn't deny that she might have fallen to her fate herself. Just not you. Never you. "These tears, this hurt you speak of, they are all proof of it. You shed tears for them, for us. Only a good mother could do such a thing." The words she spoke had a deep meaning, one only you two understood, and that made your heart flutter. You looked away, trying your best not to burst into tears again at the tragedy of the situation, but it was so hard when Arlecchino got like this. She only rarely showcased such blatant affection, such blatant declaration of her deep yet rather complicated love for you as her wife. "Please... Let's go home..." You simply whispered, which made her nod in approval.

You gazed up at the skies as you walked away, sunlight beginning to filter through the thick clouds and making you frown bitterly as it warmed your face. Arlecchino's hand meanwhile rested against your back, her watchful eyes gliding across the endless meadows you passed by, and for a moment, she could hear her children laughing, squealing and frolicking through the tall grass. They chased each other in a game of tag, running as fast as they could away from the two of you, over a hill and into what the Knave imagined to be their freedom far from her cold and stern ways. She cracked a bitter smile, one of acceptance as she glanced down at your tired, silently crying and trembling form.

Arlecchino was perhaps wrong after all. Maybe in the end the children did need a loving, nurturing mother instead.

What a shame, that it was too late to go back now.

Alright, so this took me all day to write, and I'm not sure if it's good, because I'm still very sick... but I still hope you liked this, Anon, and thank you again for the request!!!<33

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin arlecchino #genshin arlecchino x reader #arleccino genshin #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #genshin

[charlies-diary-entries]

Hellllo! Could you possibly write a ploy! marauders x reader who just got a new piercing? Like maybe they keep accidentally hitting it and like to help clean it :))

"fresh wounds"

eeeee!! my first ask, thank you so much lovely! hope you enjoy <3

You yelped a little as Sirius brushed your hair back, before leaning forward to press a butterfly kiss to your ear, right above one of your brand new piercings.

“Sorry Dove, didn’t mean to snag it,”

“S’alright Sirius, I know.”

“Are you torturing my poor, healing darling?” James accused, squeezing your hand and he frowned from his place sat in front of you. Even if you couldn't see it, you could practically feel Sirius roll his eyes.

"They're fine, Prongs," he drawled, continuing his expert work of plaiting your hair, "A helix piercing isn't going to kill 'em."

James's frown only deepened before he pressed his forehead against yours, whispering conspiratorially, "You'll tell me if he's being too rough. Just 'cause he's got a million piercings and twice as many infections, doesn't mean you have to as well."

You giggled, whispering a quiet, "I will," as Sirius scowled.

"I heard that, you prick. I'll have you know, only one of my piercings has been infected-"

At this James gasped, pulling you fully away from Sirius and into his arms, staring at him in scandal. "So, you ARE diseased! You're going to ruin their healing process-"

"No, I'm not, you idiot-"

"Yes, you are-"

"Alright, leave it you two."

You giggled as Remus pulled you to your feet while simultaneously ending the boys' playful spat. He tucked a few loose pieces of hair behind your ears, inspecting the tops which were now adorned with little silver balls. He hummed, stroking his thumbs across your cheekbones as he held your face.

"Do they hurt, Dove?"

"Not more than normal," You smiled, melting into his warm presence, "They'll be fully healed soon enough."

"That's good. They look a little red, maybe we should clean them before we leave?"

"I helped them clean them before I did their hair," Sirius replied, standing as well to snag an arm around your waist and press yet another kiss to your ear. "Saline and all, no need to worry. Not to mention they won't stop twisting 'em."

Remus relaxed and smiled at you, softly saying, "That's alright then."

This in turn made you grin and flush slightly, going to tuck your hair behind your ear again. However, you winced as you caught the piercing, cupping your ear and hissing at the rush of pain. This made James shoot to his feet, grabbing your wrist and searching your face.

"Are you okay?' He asked, worry pooling in his eyes as you smiled again, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. When you leaned back, he seemed a little dazed, making you giggle as you stroked his cheek.

"I'm perfectly alright, Jamie. 'Specially when I've got you lot to take care of me."

This made him grin, pressing a fast kiss to your lips, before sharing very sweet ones with Remus and Sirius as well. Sirius smirked a little, chasing James's lips as he pulled back. He then pressed a teasing kiss to Sirius's nose before strutting towards the door, his smile blinding.

"You're so right, Dovey. Nothing's going to happen to you with us around, that's for sure."

hope this is good lovely!! plus, gave me a few ideas for some other drabbles, so thank you so much lol

#poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #marauders reader insert

[orangekittyenergy]

On Tails and Horns

NSFW Rolan Fic

Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, tail touching, horn stroking, dry humping, first kiss, touch starved Rolan, she/her Female Tav, mostly sexy flirting but with smut at the end, basically all angst and anticipation really, I guess subRolan

Words: 6000 (once again this got completely out of hand)

Summary: Tav finally goes to visit Rolan in his new tower after a hard couple weeks of cleanup. Rolan is so delighted to see her and pent up with frustration and feelings that the lightest of touches is enough to make him lose all sense of himself.

Read below or direct on AO3

-

Tav and Rolan sat in his sitting room for tea, perched together, far closer than Rolan had intended, on the plush couch. The velvet couch was one of the many opulent vestiges from the previous owner. Books and scrolls aside, it certainly didn’t hurt to now occupy a fully furnished tower. The large vaulted windows were flung open wide, letting in a soft breeze and low hum from the movements of the city far below.

Rolan had been delighted when she came to visit. Tav had been so busy with helping the issues in the damaged city he hadn’t been quite sure when he would see her again. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart sang when she strolled through the doors over an hour ago, hoping to catch up with him now that she had a moment to breathe. Him, of all people.

But now here they sat; having discussed the details of both of their new lives, how life in the tower and store were going, the efforts to clean up the city, and the question of what lay next seemed to hover in the air.

Tav set her cup down on the side table and gave him a soft look.

“Thank you for taking time for me. I know you’ve been busy. But I really needed this.” She said and shot him what looked like an almost shy smile. Rolan blinked hard at her, surprised at her words as much as the look on her face.

“Thank...hah! I should be thanking you. Consistently and forever.” He set his own empty cup down as well. “I would have nothing were it not for you.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to be modest. You know you were amazing in the courtyard at that battle; I don’t know if we could’ve made it through without your help.” Tav reminded him.

Rolan cocked his head, looking away a moment in thought.

“Yes, I suppose I was rather amazing. I guess Cal and Lia helped some but my spells really sealed the fate of those wretched mind-flayers.” He mused with a slight smile. Tav always knew how to stroke his ego.

“But...really...thank you, Rolan. I’ve been meaning to visit sooner. I’m still staying at the Elfsong. Maybe we can do this again? Maybe dinner perhaps?” She said, almost casually. Just tossing asking him to dinner out there as if it was nothing. 

His breath caught in his throat. Dinner. His mind rang with the word as it seeped into every corner of his brain; trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. Was she asking him out? That couldn’t be so. It was casual. Two friends catching up. But still, his mind immediately pictured the scene; dinner and wine at the Elfsong. He’d love to see her in something more dressy. No, that was ridiculous. She must have dozens of suitors.

"Ahem...dinner, yes. That... would be a fine idea..” He spoke haltingly, trying to fill the silence with words, any words, while he was still trying to work through the idea in his head, a thousand different scenarios crashing together at once.

As he struggled with this concept; it seemed the deepest part of his desires to be close to her, to get to know her in possibly more than a friendly setting, that he has previously pushed away, had bubbled up again and his body decided to act for him.

Tav felt a movement on her leg and shivered.

She looked down to see Rolan’s tail curled gently but insistently around her leg just above her knee, the tip trailing down to rest on her calf. He followed her gaze and his eyes widened with shock at the impudence and betrayal of his own tail. Before he could utter out the immediate string of curses and apologies that flew into his head, in that split second of fear that gripped him, Tav moved quicker and he froze.

She raised her hand from her thigh and gently placed it on the exposed section of tail atop her leg. All thoughts fled from Rolan’s head as a hiss and a full body shudder rolled through him at her whisper light touch.

The shiver extended all the way through his tail and Tav immediately raised her hand off it as if she had been shocked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should've asked first-"

She started as he spoke at the same time.

"I am very sorry about that damn tail, I -" he paused, her words finally reaching his muddled brain. "Ask?" The word almost caught in his throat as he choked it out, incredulous. He caught her eyes flutter down to the offending tail, still around her leg, then back up to his meet his eyes with a blush. A blush? What did she have to blush about? It was his tail that got him into this predicament.

"Yes, sorry. I'm so sorry Rolan, I've heard tails can be sensitive...I should've asked first...it was just...it was right there." She gave a nervous chuckle and glanced away.

Wonderful, now I've done and mucked everything up, Rolan thought. The mere mention of dinner from her lips had left him already in shambles, unable to even control his own cursed tail. He frowned and cleared his throat, trying to still the building throbbing in his chest and regain his usual demeanor.

"No. I mean, yes, you should have." He said brusquely at first. Her eyes flickered away again and he quickly added. "They...uh...can be sensitive in some areas, yes." He swallowed thickly suddenly quite unsure of what to say. Tav met his eyes for a brief moment then looked back down. Rolan followed her gaze, already knowing full well what he would find and saw his damned tail, somehow wrapped, so it seemed, even tighter around her leg. He cleared his throat again but made no attempt to move it despite his nerves screaming at him.

"So, can I?" Tav spoke, pulling his attention back to her face. It was tilted down but her eyes peered up at him in what seemed to be a deliberately maddening pose.

"Can you....?" He hesitated, he was sure she couldn't be asking what he thought she was asking.

"Can I touch your tail?" She finished boldly. Rolan eyed her a moment, and swallowed thickly, his brain swirling with a million thoughts and his hands starting to tremble. He crossed his arms and tried to seem nonchalant about the entire situation and realized he was failing miserably.

"Sure. Yes. You may." He uttered, hoping his voice didn't waver.

Tav reached back out, hand tentative but confident and placed her palm again on the flesh of his tail where it rested on her leg.

The sensation was like a blaze of fire through his already burning hot veins. He bit down on his tongue, hard, to avoid another offending shiver and felt his eyelids flutter, betrayal of his own self control.

Thankfully, Tav’s eyes remained fixed on his tail, not noticing the immediate and dramatic way it affected him. Or, he realized, she might be tactful enough to be avoiding his face. Her touch became more firm as she well and truly let the full weight of her hand fall on it.

A sharp hiss of air escaped his clenched teeth as her hand moved slightly and her eyes finally returned to his.

"Is this okay?" She asked. Her voice was hushed, almost...he struggled to place her tone...reverent?

"Yes, yes it's fine." He breathed out, forcing himself to let the tension in his jaw relax. She began to ease her hand up slightly, tracing the bumps and ridges with her fingertips, digits gently paving the path for her palm to follow.

Rolan felt himself flush and wondered if Tav could tell the difference between his usual ruddy hue and the deeper scarlet of his blushes.

"Does it feel....good?"

His eyes had purposefully wandered but now snapped back to hers and narrowed slightly. Her expression was unreadable and even as her haunting words echoed in his ears he, again, couldn't sense the meaning behind her tone. Did she want it to feel good? Or was it pure curiosity that caused her to ask such a charged question?

And what’s more; how should he answer?

"It...does. The tail...my tail...seems to get more sensitive the higher up it goes." He tried to answer factually, logically even. It was true after all, but as quickly as the words left his mouth he realized the possible connotation of them. An invitation even. The corners of Tav’s lips flickered with a smile and her brow raised almost imperceptibly.

"Hmmm." Was the only response she gave. But her hand continued it's ascending exploration of his tail. It was now beyond the section just on her leg and was continuing on to where it dipped down a touch by his own legs.

Leaning forward slightly to extend her reach, she continued her careful mapping of the ridges, which were getting more and more pronounced as his tail progressed. She touched him as if she wished to memorize every single bump and pore; with a tenderness he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. The feeling was indescribable, but undeniably sensual. 

Rolan felt another shudder roll through him and couldn't contain this one. He felt it vibrate through his whole body all the way through and to the very tip of his tail and it gave a little flicker of movement against her calf. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or not that this one, as it trembled it's way down through his tail, didn't scare her hand away.

He stared at her hard, suddenly frustrated at her tender movements. Did she know how good it felt? Was she teasing him on purpose? To what bloody end? It was one thing to be touched so tenderly after so long, it was quite another to have his once detested bumps and ridges being the subject of such adoration. It was altogether brutal to have it be by someone that he wasn't even sure had further intentions with him. Other than being some...strange creature to fascinate over.

He squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how good it felt, how long he had wanted this, how soft her touch was, he had to stop this.

"I think-" he popped open his eyes intending on telling her to cease her activity but found that she had shifted while he battled internally and was now right beside him, her hips almost brushing against his own, her eyes firmly locked on his, watching his reactions carefully.

He wasn't just a subject of curiosity for her. He didn't know what she thought or what the intent was, but the burning in her eyes told him that it was far more than pure detached curiosity. He swallowed away his angry words, the frustration leaving him immediately, burned away by the heat of her gaze.

Her arm was now stretched out as far as it could go, ending just where his tail dipped down beside his thigh, before it would continue back up in a curve to reach the base. Incidentally, she had reached the point right where it started to become truly sensitive. It would've been positively indecent to let her continue.

His heart drummed hard in his chest, so loud he was certain she could hear it. He should end this, for decency’s sake alone. But couldn’t bring himself to conjure the words. A larger part of him was also so very desperate for her to continue; to see how far her boldness would take her. Take them. The two battling halves of his mind fought internally against each other. His mind fractured behind too many carefully crafted layers of strict composure.

He didn't have to struggle long. With a scoot of her hips again, her thighs well and truly pressed against his now, her arm bent at the elbow, giving her room to continue should she wish.

Rolan sucked in a sharp hiss of air at this development and stared at her carefully. Her eyes never left his. Her hand still firmly in place. The very air between them felt electric as if there was some magic from an unspoken spell being cast.

"Can I keep going?" She asked with a breath. His chest ached and again it took him a moment to register something. His need and eagerness for her touch along with his conflicting thoughts at the budding situation had made his senses dull. But as her words rang in his ears he heard something unmistakable. A nervous waver. In her voice. The slightest quiver. Of excitement or nerves; it could be either but he would take it. She was usually so, confident. Commanding even. To hear even a hint of a nerve in her voice at this situation stirred his insides and dispelled his doubts.

"Yes." He answered simply before he could stop himself with too much thinking. His chest hitched as her arm extended, stroking up his tail further, still using careful attention to the now more prominent peaks of cartilage. His jaw fell open slightly. The sensation of her hand almost too much to bear as another large shudder, stemming from her hand this time and rolling up his spine all the way to his scalp took him over.

She leaned forward further, her chest now dangerously close to touching his own. As her fingertips edged ever closer to the base of his tail he felt an unmistakable groan escape his lips. Her hand froze and he clamped his mouth shut with a snap both in the same moment.

His eyes darted away from hers, embarrassment welling up inside of him.

After an aching pause, his eyes still diverted, he felt Tav remove her hand and lean back away slightly. If the touch of her skin had lit a pleasant warm fire until under his skin, the sudden absence of it was a sharp painful sting of ice. Leaving him with a longing for contact that felt worse than if she hadn't touched him at all.

He finally pulled himself back to face her and was surprised to see her looking rather abashed. Her hands were sat back firmly on her thighs, gripping the fabric, a slight blush on her face, but... he could swear…was there a hint of a smile on her pink lips? Her confounding beautiful lips. 

Rolan opened his mouth to speak but once again words failed him. What could he say that wouldn't sound needy and desperate? How could he begin to ask her to continue to touch him without begging?

"Your tail felt very nice. Very soft. Sorry if I...went too far." Tav once again came to his rescue. This time rescuing him from the aching void of silence between them. Rolan blinked hard at her words. No one ever in the history of his knowledge had call his or anyone else’s tail nice or soft. As he absorbed her judgement of his tail, he realized she was staring at him expectantly.

"No, it was fine. It felt... good." A sudden surge of his own boldness possessed him, born of the sheer desire at having her hands on him again. To feel her touch him; somewhere. Anywhere. He started speaking before he knew what he was saying. "The...horns, if you were curious about them as well, also have a certain level of sensitivity... Not necessarily at the tips, but the base..." He couldn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Desire had driven him absolutely mad.

Before he could begin to second guess himself he saw that the spark that flared up in her eyes was immediate. Her hint of a smile grew into a full fledged one.

Tav leaned forward slightly again and her eyes darted up to his horns.

"May I?" She asked, raising her hands up from her thighs until they hovered just over his own. He gave a gentle nod, not trusting his own voice at the prospect of being touched again.

Without hesitation now her hands raised to each place her fingertips at the point of each horn. Rolan dipped his head forward slightly to give her better access, practically bowing towards her. His own reverence at her caring touches.

She placed her fingers gently on the tips of his horns, again tracing across the thicker bumps and ridges, feeling her way around every groove as she explored. After just a moment there, she gently slid further down from the tips, lower and lower until they were thick enough to wrap a hand around. As she did so Rolan sucked a sharp gasp of air in through taut lips. Not so much at the sensation; it was altogether different than the soft flesh of his tail, but at her willingness to touch him again.

The feeling of hands on his horns was more akin to someone brushing his hair, not that he would know what that felt like; but it was more about the way it trickled down to his actual flesh that gave him shivers. But the feeling of her so close to him again, her desire to touch him again, her tender soft hands on the harshest parts of him; that was what truly drove his senses wild and made his insides coil with hunger. The feeling of her hands gently caressing his horns sent shooting sparks of sweet sensation across his scalp and he found himself clamping his mouth shut hard again to avoid making another wanton noise.

Heeding his words she seemed to move quicker down than with his tail, but as she reached the midpoint of his horns she slowed, her grip growing more delicate and exploratory again. As her hands slid across the grooves with care the sensation, the pulsing in his skin, grew stronger and stronger until his breath hitched and his breathing grew heavy once more. He stared down at her lap, trying in vain not to look directly at her chest.

His own hands, which had been absurdly useless thus far, clutched hard against the fabric of his robe at his thighs, as another shiver rolled down his spine. He felt it flow all the way down through his tail again. His eyes shot down at it. His tail. His damned tail that started this whole thing, still carefully curled around her leg, seemed to tighten involuntarily at the shudder. He wasn’t sure if he should be blessing or cursing that it seemed to have a mind of its own; operating purely on base instinct betraying his deepest thoughts and desires.

Her hands finally reached the base of his horns and tenderly traced the bumps from where they erupted from his skin, bringing forth another unintended deep groan of pleasure from the depths of his chest. At the noise his eyes darted back up to meet hers and he found her watching him intently, her lips parted slightly.

Thankfully, her hands didn't stray, undisturbed by his obvious, even lewd enjoyment of this. They stayed; soft, tender, and so caring on his flushed burning skin.

As her hands seemed to finish their careful explorations of the flesh at the base of his horns, he still had almost half-expected her to pull away. The game complete. The research done. A dark thought rolled through him before he could stop it that this was just a bit of fun for her. Teasing him like this.

But her hands lingered. He once again found her eyes, meeting them with a deep gaze as she slid her hands down, away from his horns until she was gently cupping his cheeks. Sparks shot through his entire body and his chest heaved, almost painfully so. The moment lingered, his fear and doubt still too deeply etched into his own skin in invisible scars to make a move first. A few weeks of comfort and a few moments of tender touching couldn’t erase a lifetime of hardships and disappointments.

Thankfully, Tav, was still the more bold of the two of them. Her eyes darted obviously down to his slightly parted lips then back up to meet his as she licked her lips.

“Rolan?” She breathed out softly.

He couldn’t trust that his voice wouldn’t shake. Couldn’t trust that any possible utterance of words would snap this beautiful fantasy in two and she would dissolve. Couldn’t trust that any noise he made would break whatever spell she was under and cause her to lean away. But she lingered, unwilling to move without word from him. He swallowed thickly again and replied.

“Yes?” He finally managed to eke out with a small gasp.

“Can I kiss you?”

All of the air seemed to leave the room. She spoke so freely. So honestly. A slight hush in her words but only the tiniest hint of a quiver in her voice.

It contrasted so starkly with the tremble that coursed through his body. Of course he wanted her to kiss him. What kind of a question was that? He wanted it more than he needed to breathe. But somehow, the words out there, the possibility at hand, filled him with a deeper fear than he knew existed. A fear that threatened to overtake even his desire for her. A lingering voice that scolded him; ‘you will never quite be good enough.’

She licked her lips again and Rolan finally found the courage to quell the voice once and for all. She gave him courage. She always had. She had been there for him when no one else was; not even himself. It had always been within him, the confidence, the desires; but she had been patient enough to slowly ease it out.

“Yes, please…” He croaked out.

She leaned forward, hands still on his cheeks and placed a tender lingering kiss on his lips. The sensation of her caressing his tail was nothing compared to this. To the soft, slightly moist feeling of her warm lips pressed against his.

It sent another surge of confidence and unleashed passion coursing through his body. He could already feel his tail tightening around her leg again. His hands, trembling with anticipation and desire before, useless on his lap, now reached forward, reaching for her, eager to pull her close.

The kiss deepened, spurred on by his reaction; Tav opened her mouth, welcoming him in and leaned in further. His hands found her waist, gripping it tight as her own tongue replied to his, dancing carefully over and around his pointed teeth.

Rolan couldn’t help but groan slightly as his body lit up with sparks, every sensation he had ever felt, good or bad, seemed to pale in comparison to this divine moment. Her mouth hot against his, their breath mingling. He found his stomach was flipping over, and there was a deep aching stir in the very core of his body. Tav leaned even closer, practically in his lap now even though her hips still firmly sat on the couch beneath them.

He struggled to keep up with her tongue at first. Hers was so careful and precise and he felt sloppy and careless, sweeping along her lips and occasionally fumbling out of them as he struggled to keep up and simultaneously rushed to catch up; kissing her like it was his first and last kiss. All messy and nervous and wet and eager.

Patient as ever, Tav slowed, giving them both a moment to find the right flow, adjusting her head to tip it to the side so they could lock lips fully. He breathed out a pleased sigh into her mouth as they found a pleasant connection, leaving their awkward tongues behind.

Confidence again surging, he tugged at her hips with a new found greedy need. Greedy. He once teased her with that very word, but now very much felt the acute actuality of the word itself. He was greedy for her. He needed more of her. Now that he had been given a taste, he felt practically insatiable.

Catching note of his eager tugs, without question or request now, Tav lifted up her legs and straddled his lap, letting his body adjust to sit back against the couch. The new position allowed a new level of closeness. Her body pressed fully against his now, his pulse pounding hard between them.

Rolan felt positively dizzy. Giddy even; and that was not a word he felt he had ever used or thought of using before. He wrapped his arms fully around her back now, taking advantage of the closeness to run his hands up and down her clothed spine. His tail had released her leg at her movement and now joined his hands at her waist, resting almost scandalously against the swell of her ass. Her own hands drifted down from his face, resting on his shoulders and gently playing with the edges of his hair that rested there.

He released another shuddering moan into the kiss, feeling her body sink deeper onto his, his body still lighting up in sensations he felt he never knew before. As his mind hurried to catch up to the evolving situation and new desires continued blooming within, one thing quickly became achingly clear. Much as his tail betrayed him before, he now felt a throbbing hardness hidden under the layer of his robes and pants. He had felt it pulse and twitch earlier at her careful caresses, but now with her intentions laid bare, the situation far from friendly, and her body pressed against his, there was no denying it as the blood rushed ever further down into his groin.

For a brief moment he felt as if he was almost searching for new things to fear to ignore the comfort and passion of their kisses. As perceptive as ever, Tav seemed to notice this new wave of nerves. That, or he realized, she couldn’t help but feel his erection pressed against her due to their proximity. She finally eased her mouth away from his, allowing them both to suck in a few much needed gulps of air.

Catching his eye and leaning her forehead close to his, he felt her adjust and give a long slow roll of her hips against his hardness.

Even through the many layers of fabric the sensation of pure pleasure that tore through him was undeniable. An unmistakably vulgar groan fell from his lips before he could quell it and he felt his eyelids flutter. Tav simply smiled, and repeated the motion, spreading her knees as wide as they could go to push her hips further against him.

Rolan trembled with delight; his mind once again racing to catch up to this new development. But as his mind looked for ways to worry about this, he found himself coming up blank. The unrelenting lust and passion of the situation finally staking claim on all of his senses. It felt so good. Too good to ignore or deny further.

Another roll of her hips had his heart racing at the unimaginable level of pleasure just the mere friction of her body pressing against his made him feel. She moved more purposefully now, without pause or hesitation, grinding her very core, her own heat, against him. Her goal it seemed, lay in far more carnal pleasures than just simply driving him mad.

He dipped a hand under the edge of her loose tunic as she continued to writhe against him, and he splayed his hand across her naked back. Savoring again the feeling of her flesh against his.

It was miraculous. It was indecent. It was passionate. It was lewd. But most importantly in his head, above all else – it just felt so fucking good.

“Tav…” He groaned, unable and now finally unafraid of holding back his vocal enjoyment at this point. “If you keep going...I...I’m going...to…” Each word came out punctuated by a heavy gasping breath. He was fully panting now, the sheer ecstasy at feeling her rut against him, at the friction rubbing against his hard cock, at the entire situation really – all already so close to pushing him over the edge.

Her response was immediate. She paused her rocking and pulled back a touch to look him square in the eye. There was not a trace of annoyance in her face; just pure care for him. For his comfort.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, a little breathless. His throat burned. The immediacy of her response to him. Her unfaltering care for his feelings. The genuine and absolute respect. It struck him hard in the chest and felt almost as painful as the sudden loss of her delicious movements.

His eyes met hers. Part of him realized how improper this all was. He should be lavishing her with flowers and gifts. He supposed. He didn’t have much experience with it, but came to understand that was the thing to do during proper courtships. But a deeper part of him didn’t care. The city was in crumbles around them. They had defeated an army of mind-flayers and he himself had been to hell and back. To the hells with what was proper. He had tied his life to being stifled and composed; there was a time and place for it and now was neither.

“No, please don’t stop.” He finally breathed out. She grinned and leaned back in for another sweeping kiss, immediately resuming the pulsing and rocking of her hips against his. His entire body filled to the brim with burning fire again and another loud moan fell from his lips and the return of the sensation that was bringing him to the brink.

Tav was moaning too, he realized, soft breathy sounds, her breath hot against his ears. Provoked by the idea that she was possibly getting even a tiniest bit of the same level of pleasure from this that he was, he sat up slightly. He wrapped his arms fully around her, drawing her closer and holding her tight.

All last thoughts of maintaining composure well and fully gone, he thrust his groin up in time with her own movements. It took him a moment to find the right rhythm, the practice of movements such as this not in his natural repertoire. But before long they synced up in unison and increased the pace.

“Yes. Tav. Please. Tav. Please. Yes.” Words spilled from his lips with each jerking movement as the sensation within him built to a feverish peak. As the tingling feeling crested within him, at the last moments, all words seem to fail. Only moans and salacious grunts remained.

His grip tightened around her waist, one clawed hand grasping at her shirt, the other leaving scratches on her bare back as his body begin to coil and tense. It was the moment just before a spell releases, that last uttered syllable as it traveled from throat to teeth to air, bringing forth all kinds of magic into existence. He met her eyes again and she was that moment.

Her face was flush from her exertions, her pupils blown wide, staring at him with pure desire, her absolute and incessant need to take care of him. Him.

A last roll of her hips and he was done. He cried out obscenely as his tension released and he came so hard that his head spun. His cock pulsed, pressed hard between them, spilling his seed in his pants beneath his robe. As waves of his orgasm crested and rolled through his shaking and sputtering body, he felt his whole body begin to release in a way he didn’t think was possible. He tossed his head back to lean on the back of the couch it seemed like every muscle in his body went limp at once. He indeed thought he might pass out with the way his heart pounded in his chest and he sucked in deep gasps of air; thinking he might never catch his breath.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind he thought of the mess he had made, in his own clothes no less, but it was quickly overtaken by the feeling of Tav leaning close, looking to close the gap he had created by sinking into the couch.

She placed a wet kiss against the throbbing pulse of his neck and nuzzled her face there while he rode out the high of his own selfish, greedy pleasure.

After a moment of deep breathing and bliss, his heart started to calm and points of panic and fear started to creep back into his mind one by one. He adjusted his head slightly to sit up, needing to face her. Feeling him move, Tav sat up further as well to meet his eyes, but made no move to climb down off his lap.

“Can I still take you to dinner?” He asked quickly as their eyes met, addressing the most pressing of his concerns; that this was just a little fling. He pulled his hand back out of her shirt, wanting this to feel as formal and romantic as possible now, given the situation. Tav smiled brightly and gave an eager nod, leaning in for a quick, and rather chaste, kiss.

“I would be a little offended if you didn’t.” She raised a brow at him. “How about tonight?” She suggested and he once again reveled in her boldness. A quality, he quite felt, that was rubbing off on him.

Rolan cleared his throat; it would be next to impossible to regain full composure after what they had done, but he still tried.

“Yes. Grand. Wonderful. Great. We shall...um… have dinner tonight then.” He said, sounding almost curt in his attempt to seem collected.

Tav was utterly unfazed by his tone and gave him another smile and a tender kiss on his lips before starting to try and disentangle herself from his hands and tail, intending on standing up.

Despite the embarrassing mess in his pants, despite the awkwardness of the situation, despite her trying to start to pull away; he found himself pulling her back. His whole body, not just his tail this time, speaking for him and refusing to let her go. He pulled her back in tightly and pressed his cheek to hers, letting his eyes shut with a soft sigh as her warm body enveloped his.

Tav paused a moment before giving in and wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing herself back into his arms.

“Can we just…stay like this a moment more?” He whispered softly into her neck before he lost the courage to do so. He found himself struck with a deep fear at letting her go. It overtook any apprehension he felt about actually giving his feelings a voice. What if she didn’t come back? What if something happened to her? What it what if what it. But, most striking among his worry, was the ache he could already feel at lack of contact. Now that he had felt her touch he didn’t think he could survive without it.

“As long as you like.” Tav whispered back with a smile against his cheek.

#my writing #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #rolan nation #rolan #bg3 smut #rolan fanfic

[spacebarbarianweird]

Instinct

Synopsis: Astarion and Tiriel have a very busy night after a battle and have to deal with unexpected consequences.

Tags: smut, breeding, hurt/comfort, some emotional angst It's not exactly a breeding fic since neither Astarion nor Tiriel planned to have a child, but the shameless smut ended with unplanned pregnancy. And now they have to deal with what comes next. Bonus: you will learn why Astarion calls Alethaine 'princess'

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel won’t let them take her home from her.

She has never had one. Always a stranger, always a wanderer, but Daggerlake became her home. A place that welcomed both her and Astarion, thanking them for saving the townsfolk from a nasty fey pact.

Ever since then, Tiriel belongs – she has had a roof above her head and friends among the townsfolk. And even Astarion can relax because the town has a vast underground part where he is safe in the shadows without having to hide.

And those bandits decided they could take it away from Tiriel?

They should have thought better!

Tiriel steps over a dead body. The fight is over and so is her rage. She single-handedly finished off a dozen of these men and women who didn’t know who their enemy was. 

But her body wishes for more – more fight, more blood, more rage.

She looks around trying to see Astarion, but he is nowhere to be seen. It’s night and Astarion rushed to the surface part of the town letting the people of Daggerlake protect their homes and families while he, a full-fledged vampire, was going to show those bandits they had chosen the wrong town to attack.

Suddenly, someone grabs the fistful of her hair forcing her to gasp.

“Astarion?”

She looks at him and innate fear pierces her. They've been together for twenty years, but Tiriel hardly remembers him looking like this.

He looks like a vampire.

Like a vampire on a hunt.

His eyes glow red, and his clothes are soaked in blood. His skin feels feverish and his pupils are dilated. 

Tiriel knows it’s him but she also can’t suppress her fear. He is a predator, a hunter, a vampire. Should he be her enemy, she won’t be able to protect herself.

He pulls her closer and kisses her. Tiriel feels the blood of a dozen dead enemies on his lips. His strong hands squeeze her and she knows he will fuck her right here among the dead bodies in the streets of their hometown if she allows it.

Tiriel answers him with the same passion – he wants to be a dangerous vampire? Good to know – because she can be a wild warrior girl who takes what she desires.

But Astarion isn't in the mood for being dominated, and he drags Tiriel back to their home – anyone who would see them right now would think this an assault, not a prelude to lovemaking.

Astarion pushes Tiriel behind the gate. As he closes it, Tiriel gets a sudden idea.

If he wants to be a predator tonight, she should let him play till the end.

She drops her ax on the ground and rushes inside the house – there aren't many places to hide but she is going to let him chase her. And maybe fight a bit. 

“And where do you think you are going?” He growls. His voice sounds different and even scary. Nothing more intimidating than a blood-drunk vampire.

“Such a terrifying vampire needs to hunt his prey,” Tiriel laughs.

“Don’t tease me, wild girl!”

She rushes to their bedroom, but before she even manages to think about her next move Astarion jumps on her from the ceiling, pinning her to the floor.

And then he starts ripping her clothes off.

Tiriel roars and pushes Astarion with all her remaining strength. He pulls away but only for a moment before sinking his fangs in her neck. She gasps from the sudden pain but still tries to knock him down.

With every moment her movements become weaker and she finally stops resisting letting Astarion ravish her body.

He pulls away studying her face. 

“On your knees.”

Tiriel abides. Her shirt is ripped and shows off her breasts.

“Good girl,” he mutters, getting rid of his own clothes. His cock is painfully hard and Tiriel cannot think about anything but having it inside her.

He approaches her, tugs her by her shirt’s collar, and pushes her to the bed. He tears the rest of her clothes off and bites her again.

Tiriel’s world shrinks to these two things – pleasure and pain.

Astarion doesn’t waste any time and penetrates Tiriel, causing her to yelp.

His thrusts are rough and so are his touches. 

Tiriel, drunk with her own rage, keeps fighting back – she scratches his skin, tugs his hair, tries to push him as if he was assaulting her and every one of her movements makes Astarion wilder, rougher, scarier.

She manages to get away from under him, but he immediately presses her chest-down into the bed. Now, he fucks her from behind placing his blood-hot palm on her back.

Slap.

His palm leaves a red print on her butt and Tiriel gasps.

“Astarion-” Tiriel mewls as he leans to wrap his hands around her chest. He pierces her shoulder and keeps moving roughly.

He comes with a guttural groan and kisses Tiriel so intensely she is afraid to suffocate.

And instead of pulling away, he proceeds to fuck her again.

This time, he is very gentle and his eyes don’t glow anymore. 

“Astarion!” she gasps when he bites her breasts. 

“Delicious,” he mutters, licking the droplets of blood from her sensitive skin.

His second orgasm comes simultaneously with hers and she clenches around him forcing Astarion to stay inside her. 

Astarion sees it as permission for the third round. He sits up and places her hips on his lap. 

She squirms riding her orgasm and cries out something incoherent, but it seems like Astarion isn’t going to stop any time soon.

Tiriel has a weird feeling his heart is beating.

“Such a good girl,” he hisses. “And all mine.”

“All yours.”

Astarion moans in her ear and she feels his seed leaking down her sore thighs once again.

As it happens, Tiriel feels the world fading away, and the last thing she sees is Astarion’s red eyes.

**

When Tiriel wakes up, her body is sore and her skin feels disgusting. The mess between her legs has caked and the bite marks all over her body itch.

She gets up and gasps with a sudden pain – her body is covered in bruises, and she doesn't know which of them are from her enemies and which are from her lover.

Probably teasing Astarion was a bad idea.

She needs to bathe.

Tiriel puts her legs on the floor and notices her clothes folded up carefully. 

And repaired.

She smiles at the thought that all these hours of her sleep Astarion was right there sewing and watching her. He loves watching her sleep. When she asked him about this habit before, he confessed that he didn’t see a point in looking at anything else but her. 

Tiriel opens the door of the bathroom – Astarion sits in the hot water with a book he puts down the second she enters.

“Careful, darling, entering like that. I might want another round.”

“I can barely walk. Spare me, my lord.”

Astarion chuckles and tugs Tiriel into the bathtub.

“How much did I sleep?”

“Almost a day.”

Tiriel sits beside him and Astarion places his head on her chest.

“You know, everyone would think we should be less passionate two decades into our relationship.”

Astarion kisses her shoulder. “You are not getting any colder.”

“Oh no, you love me only for my body warmth! And what if some vampire turns me into an undead?”

Astarion doesn't answer immediately. A decade ago this joke would offend him so much he wouldn’t have talked to her for the whole day – but the nightmares and terrors of his past life have been left behind.

“Then we would lie in each other arms in front of a fireplace, forever young, forever beautiful”

She caresses his ears and he nuzzles her collarbone. 

Then Tiriel looks into the water.

“How much did you drink yesterday?”

“A lot.”

Tiriel sighs and straddles his lap, feeling his hardness between her legs. Astarion doesn’t hesitate – a second later, she is already rolling her hips as his cold cock gets warmer inside of her.

“You know… You feel much better… when you are like that,” she admits. “Cold, no heartbeat. That’s more to my liking.”

**

Tiriel feels awful. It seems like her own body is revolting against her.

“Go to see the healer,” Astarion asks. “Tiriel, honestly, if you don't go yourself, I will drag you there.”

“Tyrant.”

“And you behave like a child! Gods, sometimes I forget I am 200 years older than you!”

Tiriel looks at him and frowns. “You are not.”

“Tiriel, you are my sunshine and my love, but your lack of cognitive abilities is beyond me. How old were you when we met?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Good. By that time, I had been enslaved for 200 years and I was turned at 39. I am more than two centuries older than you.”

Tiriel wants to say something, but she vomits again.

“I'm just sick! Aaah!”

Astarion pulls her up and slings her on his shoulder as if she were his war bounty.

Despite all her efforts, she can’t free herself and accepts her fate. Thankfully, it's rather late and most of the townsfolk are asleep, though she notices a jealous look from a baker.

“Put me on the ground.”

“Let them see what real relationships look like. You know that the blacksmith’s daughters asked me where they can find vampires like me?”

“Hope you didn't send them to the Underdark?”

“I told them I am one of a kind,” Astarion slaps her butt. “But we need to remind these people who we are.”

Astarion stays outside as Tiriel enters the healer’s hut – its owner, a halfling woman, looks at her with annoyance.

“What happened, Tiriel?”

“I am fine!  My husband forced me to visit you.” Tiriel describes the symptoms. “I think I got food poisoning.”

“Food poisoning… Tell me, Tiriel, when was the last time you bled?”

Tiriel ponders. Her cycle has always been irregular –- a common thing among half-elfs. Humans are the most fertile race in Faerun, whilst elves are known to see their rare children as gifts from gods. So, Tiriel’s rare menstruations are unexpected obstacles, not something she should endure once a month. 

And besides, she sleeps with an elf AND a vampire. 

“I don’t remember. Maybe last winter.”

The healer hands her a tiny bundle of herbs. “Chew it. But don’t eat.”

The taste is so gross that Tiriel almost vomits again. She spews it on the floor - and the herb slowly changes its color to black.

“What’s the fuck is that?”

“Tastes like bile, doesn’t it? Oh, why do I have to go through all of this… I knew it couldn’t end well when we invited you two to stay here. You are pregnant.”

“I am… what?”

“You are pregnant, Tiriel.”

“With all due respect – my husband is a fucking vampire! I think his ability to fuck a child into anyone went to the grave along with his breathing, heart beating, and food preferences!”

“I am sure I’ve heard of half-vampires. Now go! I have more urgent patients to take care of. You know, it was a bad idea to use the innkeeper like a battering ram!”

Tiriel leaves the hut feeling as if she was just hit with something heavy.

“Tiriel?” Astarion looks worriedly. “What did she say?”

Tiriel is so scared she wants to cry. There is something inside her, something alive and growing – she can think of her husband as an elf all she wants, but right now she carries something half-dead inside her. Something unnatural. Something… that belongs to the shadows more than to the realm of mortals.

“My sweet, what is it?” Astarion demands. “What happened?”

And Tiriel confesses.

“Maybe… is it a mistake? She could have made a mistake! Gods! No, it can’t be…” He panics.

“Too much blood,” Tiriel says.

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve drunk too much, remember? I could hear your heartbeat. You were almost alive…. And I…” Tiriel hesitates. “I have my period once a year. It probably was the day when I could conceive.”

Astarion shakes his head. He gets anxious. Scared. She knows this face too well.

“Astarion!” She tries to grab his hand, but the vampire is too fast. In a moment, he disappears in the tunnels. “Astarion!”

Tiriel stays alone in the streets. She sniffs and returns back home, so quiet and silent.

She can’t imagine Astarion leaving her, but she also can’t imagine herself pregnant. 

Maybe he is right, the healer could have been mistaken. She needs to wait. Yes, Tiriel needs to wait.

Astarion doesn’t return in the morning. He doesn’t return the next day. Tiriel feels terrible – she can barely eat or walk. The very thought of going after her husband feels exhausting – she just wants to lie in her bed without making any coherent movement.

She also constantly cries – Tiriel tries to justify it with the feeling of loneliness, but deep inside she knows the answer.

These are the mood swings a pregnant woman endures. 

**

Astarion has never felt so shitty and pathetic in the last twenty years.

He despises himself for his fear and doubts.

His nature demands him to run. To leave and never return. Whatever Tiriel has inside, he can’t deal with it. He can’t be a parent. He doesn't want to become one.

Two centuries of enslavement – only twenty years of freedom. And now what? Will he be stuck raising a child? Which might be born so deranged and ugly it will be barely a sentient being.

He can run. He can disappear and leave Tiriel. She is a beautiful brave woman, the moment the townsfolk realize Astarion is gone there will be a line of men and women courting her.

Even with a monster child.

He walks through Secomber, a sleepy town on the border between the Sword Coast and the High Wood. It took him two days to get here and now he tries to make up his mind.

And what if it’s not his? Tiriel is so loyal and loving, but what if she wanted someone warm, someone who didn’t drink her blood? She could have gotten drunk and picked a man for a one-night stand.

No, it’s not like her.

Astarion is just a pathetic coward who can’t bear responsibility. 

He has to come back. He can’t abandon the only person he ever truly loved and who never abandoned him even in his darkest hours.

But he is still afraid. He is paralyzed.

Suddenly he hears a loud cry.

He turns around and sees a human girl, maybe four or five (he still has issues with understanding human age, always assuming someone is younger than they are). She sits on the side of the road, her dress, a tiny copy of an adult one, is dirty, and her knee is bruised. The girl sobs as tears flow down her cheeks.

A weird feeling stirs in Astarion’s undead heart. A desire to console this child, to do something to stop her from crying. She is so vulnerable, so scared… and where the fuck are her parents, or whoever is responsible?!

The door to the tavern opens and a young man rushes to the girl.

“Daddy, I’ve fallen down… and…” She cries, wrapping her hands around his neck.

“That’s all, right, princess,” he answers, stroking her back. Suddenly the man turns around and notices Astarion. “Are you looking for something?”

“What? No, I just heard the cries.”

“Well, she cries so loud she can be heard in Daggerlake. If you need a room, there is another inn on the western side of the town. We are out of beds today.”

Astarion shakes his head. No. He is going back. The sunrise will meet him in the woods and he will hide in a cave. He will be back to Tiriel in two days, begging her to forgive him.

Because he can’t live without her. And he…he wants to experience what is coming next.

“Princess… An interesting pet name,” Astarion chuckles. The girl has already stopped crying and now she watches the vampire with curiosity.

“Yeah, we are far from nobles,” the innkeeper smiles. “But she is my only daughter and who are girls to their fathers if not princesses?” with these words he kisses the girl’s forehead and enters the inn, closing the door.

**

Astarion walks inside the house. Tiriel is fast asleep, he can hear her breathing. The kitchen is messy – it seems like his half-elf wife was hungry all these days but didn’t have any strength to clean the mess.

Astarion comes to the bedroom and lies beside her. Tiriel opens her eyes and touches his cheek with tender fingers.

“I knew you would be back.”

“I am sorry. I was scared.”

“I was, too. But I can’t run away from what is inside me.”

“I know, love. I will never do this again”

Tiriel places her cheek on his chest. “If the child is half-undead, can I ever carry it?”

“I don’t know.”

They lie in silence holding each other in their hands. 

“You know… I’ve been deprived of mortality,” Astarion says. “Everything normal was taken away from me. And yet I am here. Married. With my own house. Free to do anything I want. When I was in Secomber, I saw a man with his daughter. And you know, I just… wanted the same thing. To carry my own child in my arms. Because it’s a normal mortal thing and if so, I will be no different from that young innkeeper who calls his baby daughter ‘princess’.”

Tiriel caresses his cheek. “I need to go to that innkeeper and ask if he needs anything for returning my husband to me.”

“You need to see the girl. Such a lovely little creature,” he smiles. 

“Ours will be lovely too.”

Astarion elbows up. “Tiriel… we are going to keep it, aren’t we?”

Tiriel sighs. She did think about terminating, Astarion realizes. In those dark hours when he was hiding like a coward.

“I want to keep it,” Tiriel says. “Besides… I am still a half-elf. It’s not like miscarriages are rare among my race. Let’s see how it works out.”

Astarion smiles and finally relaxes enough to meditate. 

Druids hate the undead because, unlike nature, they can't change. He will prove them all wrong. His life is changing and he is too.

In the best and scariest way possible.

He puts his palm on Tiriel’s flat belly. Somehow, he is sure they are going to have a girl. -- Tag list

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@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

#bg3 fluff #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #oc tav tyrael #tav oc #astarion x reader #astarion x barbarian tav #astarion fluff #tiriel of the sunset mountains #astarion x tiriel #tiriel the barbarian #oc tav: tiriel #pregnancy #astarion fics #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #spacebarbarian fics #astarion smut #astarion x tav smut #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion acunin #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion baldurs gate 3

[padfootagain]

Only An Almost (VI)

Chapter 6: Hiding

Hello!! Here is a new chapter!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2387

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew needed to talk to you.

After his conversation with Sam, there was no doubt left in his mind that he needed to tell you how he truly felt. This… situation, this… arrangement… it couldn’t go on. It was hurting him too much. Having you for a moment, and then being back to square one, holding himself back all the time, and this fool’s hope that you could feel the same if he waited…

He couldn’t keep on doing this. Another week and two nights with you had passed, and Andrew was now resolute. As he was knocking on your front door and then digging his hands in his pockets, he kept on repeating the words he had prepared beforehand. It was so much easier to write things down, he had sketched his speech this morning.

I know you don’t want a relationship at the moment, I understand that.

He knocked a second time as you weren’t opening the door.

But I’m not sure this… arrangement of ours is a good idea. I see you as more than just a friend. Way more than that. And I don’t think that I can keep on being casual with you.

At long last, the keys turned in the lock, and he stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.

I get it that this is not the right time for you, and that’s alright. I’ll wait. I’ll wait all the time you need to have a proper date and a proper relationship with you. I’ll wait for you.

You opened the door.

I’ll wait for you, Y/N, if you want to give me a chance…

“Andy? Were we… had we something planned for today?”

“Hi! Erm… not exactly, but like… I haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried you might have been eaten by some roaming spirit or the monster under your bed or something…”

He mentally slapped himself for such a weird and stupid joke.

You granted him an amused smile nonetheless, he was even ready to believe that you were struggling not to laugh.

“I’m alright, I’m just super busy with work.”

“You look tired.”

You looked exhausted, actually, with bags under your eyes, dishevelled hair…

“Thanks, I guess…”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant. You are always stunning. But you do look like you haven’t had a proper rest in a few days.”

“I have so many things to do…”

You heaved a sigh, and it was easy to see that you were buzzing with anxiety.

“Can I come in?” Andrew finally asked, but he was surprised when you hesitated.

“I have some work to do…”

“It’s Sunday afternoon, you’re not supposed to be working on Sunday.”

“Andy…”

“Do I really need to beg?”

He gave you a crooked smile, the ones he thought were almost cocky but behind which he badly hid that he was worried. You heaved a sigh and let him in.

“Tea?” you asked, although you were already grabbing the kettle by the time Andrew had rid himself of his coat.

“Thanks,” he smiled as he sat down by your table.

He waited until you were sitting with him before speaking again. He reckoned that you needed to be eased into the conversation he was aiming for, so he started with niceties.

“What has you so busy then?”

“Work. Important projects.”

“What kind?”

“Look, Andy… I appreciate the thought, but I don’t have time for this…”

“You can’t keep on working without taking a break… it’s Sunday.”

“Like you’re never working on Sundays.”

“I’m a musician, not an office employee. If I want to, I can decide not to work for an entire month, and no one is going to say a thing about it.”

“Touché…”

“Seriously, though… I’m just worried. Why don’t you take a small break with me, huh?”

“Andy, if you came to get laid, I’m not in the mood…”

“I didn’t…”

He frowned as he stared at you, offended by the thought. Your expression softened.

“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”

“I haven’t heard from you in several days, I was just stopping by to check up on you.”

“I know… I’m sorry, that’s very nice of you, actually. I’m just so…”

“Stressed? Tired? On the verge of a nervous breakdown?”

“All of the above…”

Andrew drank a gulp of tea or two, before standing up in a jolt.

“Come on, go get changed.”

“What?”

“You need some fresh air. Some fresh air, and a nice walk. Come on. Get properly dressed, we’re leaving.”

“Andy…”

“You look like a zombie, you need a break.”

“I thought I was still stunning.”

“You are. Don’t ask me how you do it. Come on!”

You smiled, and seemed to hesitate one last time before getting up as well. You went to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he bent to meet you halfway.

“Thank you, Andy. Where are we going?”

“I’ll find a nice spot, I promise.”

How could Andrew bring up this conversation?

He kept his words light and playful during the short drive to the spot he knew you would like. Some quiet path winding through the Wicklow hills, one that you knew already, but didn’t go there often. It was an easy, peaceful walk. Perfect to focus on nature, and get out of your head. It would do you good.

You were finally starting to relax, and Andrew didn’t dare to bring up the subject he so desperately needed to discuss. Partly because he didn’t want to stress you out again, partly because he was too afraid.

You joked around and spoke of unimportant but lovely things while you walked, his fingers brushing yours every once in a while, blaming the uneven terrain for the ghostly touch. But he didn’t reach out, didn’t hold onto you. He didn’t dare to.

You had brought some snacks with you, prepared while Andrew was pestering you to hurry. He decided that he would talk to you while you took a break to eat them. Yes, that sounded good…

“How often do you come here?” you asked him after a short silence.

“To this spot you mean? I don’t know… Haven’t come in a few weeks, that’s for sure.”

You giggled, and he slowed down to walk next to you again.

“You and your long legs. Wait for us mortals, would you?”

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

“I’ll give you a snack.”

“Hmm… that could work.”

“Or actually, never mind that. Go ahead and play the lure. So the beasts will attack you and spare me.”

“The beasts? What beasts? The squirrels? A bird?”

“There are badgers everywhere around here.”

“True, but I’m too skinny for their taste, I’m sure.”

“A bite-size ankle.”

“Nothing but bone, I’m afraid. Not enough sustenance. They’ll have to get to you, eventually.”

“Naughty.”

You walked further along the quiet path, laughing and joking and talking nonsense. And this was nice, unbelievably nice. There was just something about you that made Andrew’s shoulders lighter, his world brighter.

Love. It’s love.

You took a turn, came to particularly nice spot, breaking free from the trees of the forest trail. There was a clear view of the hills from there, and the valleys below.

“This is so nice. You were right, I was cooked up at home, and then at the office… I needed this. I needed some time outside, to clear my head.”

The Wicklow hills rolled before you, in various shades of green, the bluish grey of a stream running between them. You sat down together on an old stone wall, and you shared your snack with him: some slices of apple and a few biscuits.

“It’s so nice out here. We had not done that in a while, had we?” you went on, before taking a bite at the piece of apple in your hand.

The fruits were sweet and sticky with juice and sugar. The flesh had turned a little brown, oxidized by the air. Andrew hummed in agreement as he took another piece.

“Yeah, a few months, I’d say.”

“Longer than that. I don’t think we’ve done this since you’ve been back.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

He saw your gaze softening with sadness, something close to melancholy.

“How do you do it?”

Andrew frowned in response, silently asking what you meant. You looked at the landscape again as you answered.

“The touring. The constant travelling. Always being away from home. How do you do it?”

Andrew shrugged.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to do what I love, I can’t complain about it, I reckon. I’m so lucky people across the world love my music, that… total strangers on another continent can find something to relate to in my songs… It’s more than I’ve ever hoped for concerning my career. I’m very grateful for that.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He couldn’t refrain a small smile at that. You were always so stubborn, never letting him get away with things. He loved that about you, it was endearing.

He set his gaze on the landscape too, tracked some clouds drifting in the blue sky. The weather was so lovely this afternoon… he wondered when it would turn to rain.

“It’s tough,” he admitted. “On one hand I’m unbearably lucky. I love travelling, I’m going to places I would never have dreamt of visiting. I meet amazing people. I get to perform my songs, and people come to see me. And I would lie if I pretended that I don’t love touring. But it’s… it’s hard to be away for so long. You live out of a suitcase. You don’t have a proper bed, not to mention your own. You never sleep twice in the same place, you’re always busy, always torn in a thousand directions at once… you’re never on your own, there are constantly at least five people in the same room as you. Sleeping in a bus is hell. You’re… exhausted, all the time. Stressed because of all the things to do, stressed about the schedule, the interviews, the nerves before a show… And I miss home. I miss my parents, and my brother. I miss my friends. I miss my house, and my dog, and my bees, and just… this. I miss this place. And I miss you…”

He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to look at you again, feeling your stare upon him.

“But in the end, I love it. There’s nothing as rewarding as hearing someone else singing something I have written. There’s nothing as exhilarating as being on stage, and performing and… It feels like I was born to do that. It just feels so right. It’s the same when I write music. It just feels right.”

Slowly, you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips.

“I understand. But it sounds lonely.”

“I’m literally never on my own, that’s an issue, actually… to me it is, at least.”

“But you’re not with your family. Can you say that you’re with the people who matter most to you?”

“Some of them are.”

“What about most of us?”

He granted you a sad smile.

“Yeah… yeah, I miss all of you.”

You looked away again, and he was surprised to catch a glimpse at tears in your eyes.

“I don’t think I could do it. Not just travelling but… just… how can you be with someone if you’re never here?”

It was his turn to look away to hide rising tears. His throat tightened, his heart dropped, his chest was collapsing…

Was that why you didn’t want to be with him? Why you kept him at arm’s length?

“It can be difficult,” he nodded.

“Is that why you broke up with your ex?”

“There were a bunch of reasons. But it was one of them, yeah.”

“I… I don’t think I could handle it. Waiting for you to come back…”

“I understand.”

“Don’t get me wrong, when I proposed our… arrangement… it wasn’t because it was you. I… I genuinely don’t want to date anyone at the moment. My job is a lot. And I… I’m a little lost these days. What I’m trying to say is that… I feel lonely, sometimes. But I can’t be in a relationship right now. But if I proposed for us to remain friends, it wasn’t because I was rejecting you specifically. Do you see what I mean?”

“I think so… but I… I mean like… my career means that… if you were in a position that allowed you time and space for a relationship, you would still not choose me, right? That’s what it means.”

“I…”

But you grew quiet, and he wasn’t stupid. His vision was blurred with tears: a mix of several shades of green, a splash of blue and some grey and white. A cloud was passing.

He had come all the way here with you to talk, and he had his answer.

“You’re… you’re still okay with what we agreed on, right?”

What could he answer?

No… no, it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But I can’t lose you for good. I’m not strong enough to survive it…

“Had I been anything else but a touring musician… would you have wanted to date me?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, unbearably fragile.

You didn’t say anything; he took your answer for a no.

He was being a fool…

“I can’t think like that, Andy.”

“Why not?”

“For the same reason you can’t stay for the entire night. That we can’t have pet names. That you can’t kiss me now.”

He blinked his tears away to look at you, frowning, silently encouraging you to keep going.

“I can’t let you break my heart, Andrew.”

His lips parted at your words, he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning, blinked a few times.

It was… It was him. He was the problem. Him, and his job. The same pattern it had always been, all over again, but with you this time around.

You cleared your throat, stood up in a hurry.

“Come on, let’s finish this hike!”

He looked at you as you started to walk away, but didn’t move a muscle.

You could have loved him, and he would still stand no chance at all…

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x fem!reader #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #series #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

[brucewaynehater101]

i keep seeing the hcs (the tim seeing bruce as his son ones) you post and had an idea

so like bruce is like,,, grieving bc sum1 died (who is your choice) and tim js goes back to the behaviors he had when bruce was grieving originally like and every1 is like tim wtf???

i can imagine tim standing off to the side (like a parent watching their kid on a like,, a playground or smth) thinking how he’s going 2 drag bruce upstairs to sleep and sum1 (again your choice) comes up and asks “tim why the fuck are you acting this it makes not sense”

tim’s like “don’t ask”

srry if was confusing

I completely understood. You're good 👍

However, let's explore the angst potential ~

Bruce and the entire Bat family is grieving the loss of their family member (extra points if it's a pivotal role like Dick or Alfred [everyone would hurt, but the family relies on these people]). Everyone is visibly having a rough time.... except for Tim.

Tim cried when the news came (or when they watched the person die). He cried when his family broke down screaming, begging, and sobbing. He cried when he watched each and every family member lose a vital part of themselves.

And then he stopped. He crammed those pieces of himself together and gathered everyone up. He got them home, and his calm facade hasn't broken since.

It's worse this time around because he knew the person who died personally. He loved Jason and was devastated when he died. However, he didn't know Jason personally. He hadn't had his hair ruffled as the individual gave him a fond smirk. He hadn't been left a steaming mug of coffee as a silent sign of support. He hadn't been pulled into a hug or found himself startled into a laugh. He had never heard his name uttered by the person who died like he did this time.

There's a piece of Tim that died when that family member stopped breathing, but it's okay. He's used to that by now. Bruce and his family need him.

So, Tim gives B sympathetic smiles before shoving him into the batmobile for the car rides that help the man fall asleep. He clicks his tongue as the man comes back with too many injuries. He invokes the sticker charts again and the spray bottle. He ruthlessly utilizes emotional manipulation and sharp words until Bruce stops destroying everything around him (both in the literal and metaphorical sense). He provides Bruce with healthier outlets for his grief.

This time, though? He checks up on the other family members as well. He ensures that no one left in his family is alone. He makes sure that everyone has someone to lean on, that they support each other, and that they don't lash out at each other.

It takes a while, between the waves of grief everyone is drowning under and struggling to find the surface of Tim's efforts get overlooked.

Eventually, when the family starts to heal just a bit more, they notice Tim standing with his hands on his hips as he glares at Bruce.

"Bruce Wayne. If you do not strip off that armor, consume your entire dinner, and get into your bed upstairs, there will be consequences. Do NOT make me count to three."

The other Bats watch as Bruce winces, sighs heavily, and then drags his weary body to the changing room.

Someone points out just how weird that is.

It's the first time in months that the family acts with the chaos it usually has.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #bruce wayne #batman #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!! #didn't edit so let me know if there's mistakes! #tim acting like bruce's parent

[lvndrdaaze]

What are your thoughts about NSFW alphabet for Wriothesley? 🥹👉👈

I have so many thoughts about him, but hardly any are coherent (ᴗ_ ᴗ。) I'll do my best though asjakdks

I'm gonna make a post explaining my rules for requests, but just to let everyone know, I'll write NSFW or SFW alphabet headcanons for any Genshin men and some BSD characters, but I'll only accept requests for 3-4 letters at a time bc I get overwhelmed trying to write more than that at a time (,,>﹏<,,) I just chose a few letters for this, let me know if there's any specific ones you want me to write for Wriothesley <3

(gn!reader, NSFW so no minors!)

Wriothesley NSFW Alphabet - J, N, X

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Anytime he gets bored, Wriothesley thinks about jerking off. However, he doesn't often have time to actually go through with it, between receiving regular reports from guards and dealing with difficult prisoners, so he only gets as far as palming himself until his cock is half-hard and just beginning to stir in his pants before he's interrupted. This means that when Wriothesley does get the chance to go all the way, usually late at night when the Fortress is asleep, he's already been teasing himself for so long that it doesn't take long until he's twitching and moaning into his fist, clenched in front of his mouth to muffle the sounds. He prefers to keep this activity away from his desk at the very least, as not only is thay not a very sexy location in his mind, but he also wouldn't want to risk destroying any important documents when he cums. So instead, he half reclines on the sofa in his office, his head tipped back and his chest heaving as he strokes himself quickly with one hand and cups his balls in the other. When he cums, he does so freely, splattering his own stomach with his seed with a noise somewhere between a whine and a groan.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Wriothesley is adamantly against hurting you. Up to a certain point, pain can be fun, but he doesn't ever want to risk crossing that line and causing you severe pain. He'll happily spank your ass and thighs until they're red with blistering heat, and he'll wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze slightly to show his dominance, but he refuses to go any further. He won't fully choke you or slap your face, partly because he doesn't trust himself not to cause you actual injury, and partly because those things aren't sexual to him. They're real and visceral, and he hates the idea of introducing you to them like that.

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

Wriothesley is big, and he knows it. It's around 8 inches, and so thick you can hardly wrap your hand around it comfortably. The skin is a little darker than the rest of him, and the tip is darker still and bulbous. There's no curve to his dick, and his pubic hair is dark and wirey, speckled with grey like his hair.

Feel free to request more NSFW/SFW alphabet headcanons! More info in my pinned post ^-^

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley x reader headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact x reader headcanons

[nothingbutsweetwords]

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢᴛʜᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"...ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ."

Word count: 4,300.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

MEETING - 2. Him.

Several nights had passed since he made his way to his father's chambers, who had summoned him. He vividly remembered the journey through the corridors of the keep, walking with a stupid smile on his face. Except for his racing heart, there was no evidence of his passage through the pit, as the water had taken care to erase them.

He was heading towards his destination without any idea, eager to share his new adventure and see his father's face change when he discovered that he was not a lost cause, like his brother. He truly possessed the potential and courage to fill him with pride if only he was given the chance.

Viserys had always been more focused on his elder sister, a reality he fully understood; after all, she would eventually occupy the throne. While Alicent had been too busy all the time, immersed in concerns, striving to cover Aegon mistakes at every turn.

However, the meeting with his father was anything but expected, worse, even. His mother had beaten him to it and had let him know the situation beforehand. He received nothing but a sermon, and Viserys let him go without even a gesture of affection, with a heavy heart and his eyes glassy from holding back tears.

He did not expect to be placed at the top of the priority list, although he wanted it with all his being. It was known that, as a second son, he could not expect it, but he did not think it was too much to ask for a minimum dose of attention and affection.

It seemed to be his destiny; his expectations always soared above reality, and he knew that he had to learn to accept it, for there was no one else hurt but himself. But how would he now abandon them, if she seemed willing to answer all his pleas? Or to stop his naive imagination, if she seemed determined to shame the image he had forged of her? Or to stop being a believer, if her delicate hand continued to bless him with caresses? How would he calm the beats of his racing heart if she continued to look at him and listen to him like no one ever had? As if he were brave, important, cherished.

She approached him with the grace of someone who doesn't know that's fulfilling desires that had inhabited his mind for so many nights, preventing him from thinking of anything else. He had so longed for this. While in his fantasies it had been him who took the initiative, at this moment the detail seemed as trivial as every unaccomplished aspiration he had harbored before.

A fleeting regret overwhelmed him as he realized that his excitement had prevented him from behaving with the chivalry he longed to demonstrate. His words flowed ceaselessly, revealing everything he had always wanted to share in each previous encounter. And now, they had to part ways. What if the next day her curiosity and interest faded? What if she considered him an idiotic and insipid egomaniac who did nothing but talk about himself?

"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he muttered, his head bowed, before rising from his seat, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." He avoided meeting her gaze, fearful of finding confirmation of his words. However, he heard her melodious laughter once again, an echo that ignited his hope and relieved him.

"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don’t have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.

A latent worry gnawed at him; hopefully, having worn a mask to hide his emotions and thoughts from her for so long wouldn't allow her to glimpse the authentic feelings overflowing within him.

He reached the exit and, as he grasped the knob, said sincerely, "I do not think that's possible" his gaze trying to convey the truthfulness of his words.

He opened the door and waited for her to leave. Never before had he gathered the courage to engage in direct conversation with her; he had then preferred to demonstrate his intentions through other gestures. As long as he was present in the room, he would not allow a simple guard to open her door or escort her to her chambers.

They bid farewell with the promise of meeting again the next day, and he had the sensation that the night slid by with the most exasperating slowness he had ever experienced.

Each conversation was like a new chapter, a story filled with complicity and companionship. He proposed question games, and she accepted with a sparkle in her eyes. His mind seemed insatiable for information about her, and it was no surprise; after all, each answer added brilliance to the gem he was uncovering. Enchanted by her curiosity too, he revealed parts of himself that he had never shared before.

It was something new and refreshing to have someone who seemed to share the same ambitions and with whom he could express his darkest fears and boldest dreams. Every word and shared anecdote created a bridge between their worlds, one he eagerly sought to reinforce every day.

"What would you have liked your dragon to be like?" she asked. It no longer hurt him to have these conversations, he had grown accustomed to them, as she loved them. Always telling him the stories of the ancient ones and their brave riders, showing her fondness to one in particular. And lately, he had found that they gave him more determination to one day claim his own.

"I never really imagined it" he replied. They were both sitting face to face by the window, their knees touching and their gazes contemplating the sea, with its gentle murmur in the background. "But one big enough to carry two riders would be just perfect for me." She offered him a smile, understanding the longing for a new companion to take them both to new horizons.

"Can I tell you something?" he had said after a long silence. His voice trembled slightly, his vulnerability showing.

"Of course you can" she replied, turning gently to face him.

"I..." he took a deep breath, confessed, "I lied to you the other day."

"About what?" she asked, curiosity on her face as she awaited the revelation.

"When you asked if I was scared in the pit," he said, ashamed, "the truth is, I had never felt more terrified in my entire life." He sought her eyes, prepared to face the disappointment covering her delicate face.

She settled in, resting her face on her knees and looking into his eyes with tenderness, she said, "anyone would have been, my prince." She put another small smile. "You were brave to go in, and clever to come out." A wave of calm washed over him as he listened to her. "But do not feel the need to lie" she added, gently. "We're in a safe place." He nodded, grateful for her words, feeling the weight of his confession dissipate in the light of her understanding.

They had found a shelter there in the library; her warmth and tenderness had brought those corners to life, turning them magical, where entire afternoons and evenings slipped away unhurriedly, filling the place with whispers, laughter, and secrets. Where the books, once so revered, began to be less and less present. It was just them and their hearts laid bare, open like pages waiting to be read.

"I was planning on skipping my class tomorrow" she confessed as they walked arm in arm to the door of her chamber, "I'm not as good as Helaena embroidering, and I'm tired of pricking all my fingers." He laughed, sensing her frustration. "Maybe I could sneak into the training yard… and watch you?" she suggested timidly.

"Do you think they'll let you in? It's not exactly a place for ladies" he warned.

"I'll find a way." A spontaneous smile lit up her face, pulling at her lips. 

"Then you'll always be welcome, my princess" he affirmed. She kissed his cheek goodbye and entered the room without saying more. He silently thanked that she hadn't turned back before closing the door, because she would have seen his clumsy gesture. His hand, futilely, over his heart, trying to keep it from escaping his body and follow her.

He felt renewed during the training, radiating spirits never seen before, and a spark of energy burned inside him. Saturated with excitement and anxiety that prevented him from focusing on anything other than the gates of the yard, his eyes fixed on them, awaiting her arrival. 

Ser Criston fell silent when his nephews took their turn practicing with the straw dummies. This routine was nothing new to him, but he had never given it much importance until he heard Aegon whisper maliciously.

"Did you know that Cole used to be Rhaenyra's protector?" His brother's words hung in the air, laden with an insinuation he couldn't quite grasp.

"So?" A pang of intrigue stirred him.

"I heard the idiot was in love with her and she rejected him" he continued amidst laughter, "I bet that's why he hates the little bastards."

A furrowed brow was his only response at the moment. Though he was still too young to fully comprehend the weight of the words, he caught their meaning. Could it be true? Aegon didn't seem like the most reliable source, but he still planted a seed of doubt in his head. 

Of course, he had noticed the visible difference between the young Velaryons and their parents, but it didn't seem really rare to him. Not every child was the livid image of their parents. 

He cared little for an insult directed at his nephews, who, like his elder brother, constantly sought ways to hurt him with jokes that were never funny. But this blow reached someone else. Someone he cared about.

"Do not say that" he warned, trying to quell his doubt.

The taller one looked down at him, puzzled. "Why not? It's the truth, just look at them" he insisted.

Before he could respond, the knight overseeing the training interrupted. "Princes, your turn" he announced, his hands clasped behind his back, his face stern and his authority unwavering.

"Come on, brother! The Pink Dread deserves to be ridden by a good warrior" escaped his brother's mouth, followed by his nephews' laughter. However, amidst the noise, a warm presence enveloped him, and he vowed not to let them ruin his day or steal his motivation.

She gave him a smile from across the yard before stooping to plant a kiss on Viserys's cheek, who, seated, watched everything attentively from the steps.

With determination, he took the wooden sword and, gathering all the concentration he could muster, immersed himself in the practice.

"Soften your knees" Ser Criston told him. "Keep your feet light and your hands heavy."

"This is the stuff, Lyonel" the king told the big man to his right. "Lads that learn together, train together. Knock each other down, pick each other up. They will certainly form a lifelong bond, wouldn’t you agree?" He said with a smile. Little did he know.

"That is the hope, Your Grace" the hand responded.

"Don't stand too upright, my prince, or you'll get knocked down." He adjusted his posture and continued to sword the mannequins. 

The yard was filled with grunts, the sound of wood clashing against the straw created a symphony of skill, and the air was imbued with effort.

Once agitated, they turned to exchange places again, but Aegon lingered, his gaze following the sway of two servants passing through.

"Aegon" Cole scolded. He couldn't understand how his brother could have so little shame and respect.

The accused returned his attention to the training field. "I won my first bout, Ser Criston, my opponent sues for mercy" he declared with his usual lack of seriousness and a mocking smile on his face.

"Well, you’ll have a new opponent then, my lord of the straw" Criston retorted, turning to retrieve his black leather gloves and another wooden sword. "Let's see if you can touch me, you and your brother." He sighed and silently cursed his older brother, heading towards them. He didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of her, but backing down was not an option.

They began to fight simultaneously, trying to attack Criston from both sides, but he seemed undisturbed. Standing still, he effortlessly deflected every blow that came his way.

"You're gonna have to do better than that" his opponent said firmly.

He began to grow impatient, swinging the sword without any strategy, his breath ragged, showing the fatigue that already engulfed him. In the blink of an eye, both were on the ground, exhausted and defeated. He got up and leaned against the large table, trying to normalize his breathing.

"Weapons up, boys, don't give your enemies no quarter" Lord Commander Harwin Strong ordered, directing his words to the younger ones. Aegon nudged him in the shoulder, indicating that he should pay attention. "It seems the younger boys could do better with  a bit of your attention, Ser Criston."

Both men exchanged challenging glances before Criston asked, "You question my method of instruction, ser?"

"Oh, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils."

"Very well."

Jacaerys appeared grateful for the intervention, a smile briefly gracing his face, but it quickly faded when Criston roughly grabbed him by his metal breastplate, positioning him in front of Aegon, who watched all with amusement. He turned towards the stairs and upon seeing her face, he found concern. He tried to offer her a reassuring look, but she did not move her eyes from her twin.

"Eldest son against eldest son," declared the guard, initiating a new challenge.

"It's hardly a fair match" Lord Strong pointed out, indicating the clear disparity in strength.

"I know you've never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect" he said. Once they were in position, he instructed: "Blades up. Engage."

Aegon crossed the field and violently lunged at his opponent. It only took him a moment to throw him to the ground. A laugh escaped his lips, inevitable given the clear injustice. His older brother not only towered over him and outweighed him, but he had also had more training time than Jacaerys. He called an end to the match, a mistake born of his narcissism, as Jace still held his sword. Turning his back disdainfully, Aegon was caught off guard by his nephew, who skillfully disarmed him. The elder grabbed the straw dummy and hurled it at his opponent, in a desperate attempt to stop him.

"Foul play!" shouted the commander, his voice resonating with indignation.

"I deal with him." Both men took hold of their respective fighters, pulling them apart to offer them their expert advice.

"You!" shouted Aegon, his face furious. His pride tarnished by letting his nephew outmaneuver him and embarrass him.

"Close with him" Criston said, guiding Aegon every step of the way. "Press him backwards. Stay on the attack." Jace was cornered against the wall, with no escape. "Use your feet!" A question crept into his mind as he observed everything, would his brother be capable of winning without trickery and instructions? A kick found Jace's chest, leaving him breathless on the ground. "Don't let him get up." he ordered.

His nephew fought with all his might, but it was in vain. Aegon managed to disarm him and prepared to deliver the final blow, intended solely to injure him, as the battle had already concluded when the younger was left empty-handed.

"Enough!" Harwin shouted, intervening and grabbing Aegon from behind, pushing him away.

“You dare put hands on me?" his brother roared in response, indignation palpable in every word.

"Aegon!" called Viserys, noticing his son's exaggeration.

"You forget your place, Strong. That's the prince."

"Is this what you teach, Cole? Cruelty towards the weaker opponent?" Harwin inquired as he gathered the swords to put them back in their rightful place. Jacaerys got up and went to his younger brother's side, shielding him with his back. When the Lord Commander passed by Cole, the latter threw his sword at his feet. Challenging him. Provoking him. He walked past, determined not to fall into the trap.

"Your interest in the princelings training is quite unusual, Commander" he began, his expression drawn. "Most men would only have that kind of devotion towards a cousin, or a brother..." noticing the direction the conversation was taking, he looked worriedly towards her. Lyonel Strong was trying to persuade the young princess to return inside the keep, but those pleas fell on deaf ears. "Or a son" Criston concluded.

Without warning, Harwin lunged towards Cole, knocking him down. Blows filled the air as the commander unleashed his anger on the guard beneath him, shouting thunderously, "Say it again." Blood flowed from the guard's nose, most likely broken, just like his lip, as he lay with his back against the rocks. "Say it again."

"What are you waiting for? Take her away!" the king's exasperated voice was heard, ordering the guards to intervene and search for the princess. He felt the urge to move towards her, but a circle of guards formed around him, enclosing him with his brother and nephews, ready to defend them in case Harwin Strong misdirected his wrath.

Jace recognized his twin's desperate voice, calling out for them. He took Lucerys's hand and quickly broke free from the guards, running towards her. He tried to follow, but Aegon stopped him with a hand on his chest.

By the time they managed to separate Harwin from his victim, the princess was nowhere to be found. "Say it again" he screamed once more, as the guards struggled to restrain him.

"Look at him" Aegon said, nodding towards Cole's limp body on the ground. He heard him mutter something, but couldn't discern the words, then he spat blood from his mouth, with a triumphant gesture.

In the days following the intense training, his heart beat with the hope of seeing her again, but his princess seemed to have disappeared into the shadows. Perhaps she didn't desire company, still haunted by the grotesque images that had wounded her eyes in the yard, or too saddened by the news. Harwin Strong, dismissed from the king's guard and sent back to Harrenhal, where the towers stood as silent witnesses to the tragedies that occurred there.

He had searched every room she frequented and every nook of the keep, in vain. She seemed to have vanished into thin air. He walked through the shared hallway, his eyes eagerly searching for the door that separated their worlds, hoping to see her open it and come his way.

The void left by her absence was palpable, stripping the soul of the library along with her, depriving it of all warmth and charm.

A new feeling invaded him, threatening to take root in the depths of his being. Has it all been a fleeting dream? He needed to see her face and make sure it had all been real, that she was still real and not just an echo in his memory.

He decided to seek solace in his sister, hoping her company could distract him from his unease or illuminate him with her usual riddles. The guard announced his arrival, and as he entered, found a familiar scene: his sister absorbed in her weaving, oblivious to his presence.

"Sister" he called softly.

"Brother" she responded, without taking her eyes off her work, as if the outside world were just a distant sound in her universe woven of threads and needles. "You can sit by my side" she murmured. He was accustomed to waiting for her commands; Helaena wasn't very fond of closeness. He walked the few steps that separated them, taking the seat beside her.

"Oh, sweet brother, your afflicted heart beats with sorrow" she whispered, furrowing her brow, laden with a wisdom that transcended words. She decided to set her sewing frame aside, taking his hand in her cold ones. Imaginary lines were drawn and read in his palm.

It made him uncomfortable to be so exposed, as if she could see beyond him, decipher his hidden secrets. His eyes avoided hers, filled with shyness, but his sister's gaze found him. "Do you not perceive the scent of roses in the air whispering to you?"

He tried to dissect her phrases, but it was more complicated than any philosophy book ever written. His furrowed brow showed his confusion. "The green awaits patiently for you" she concluded, refocusing on her former activity. A black spider adorned the fabric, formed by hundreds of delicate and meticulously planned threads.

He said goodbye to his sister, ready to go in search of her. Before stepping out of the room, he heard Helaena whisper a warning.

"Beware of the keeper of secrets." Still intrigued by the enigmas, he continued on his way.

Three knocks on the door, each one stirring his nervous breath and marking the beat of his racing heart. A fine mist of tension enveloped the air. His hands trembled slightly as they brushed against the wood, fearful of having made a mistake in coming here. He wondered if his visit would be well-received or if she would consider it an intrusion. Perhaps they didn't yet have such confidence in each other. These thoughts tormented him, suffocating his lungs. He decided it was best to let it be and wait for her to be ready to come out on her own. He would wait without haste, without hurry. He was about to turn around when he heard her low and soft voice resonating from the other side of the door.

"Who is it?" she inquired cautiously. 

He hesitated for a moment, still with time to turn back, but before doing so, he replied firmly, "It's Aemond, my princess."

There was a brief moment of silence before the sound of the latch yielding and the door opening, revealing her before him. For the first time, he saw her wild hair loose, falling in beautiful curls around her shoulders, framing her tired face. It was usually up in braids. Her eyes were swollen, with bags under them, and her light blue dress slightly wrinkled, as if she had been in bed all day.

"Come in" she ordered softly, moving aside and gesturing for him to enter the room.

He thought it was exactly as he had imagined. Her distinctive and sweet scent filled the air. Shelves filled with books, her messy bed, hair brushes on her dresser, along with other items he couldn't identify... It was like entering a sacred sanctuary, where each object told him more about her. He turned his gaze back to her when he heard her speak.

"I missed you" she said, her voice barely a whisper, loneliness evident in her tone. She walked to her bed, not waiting for his response. She carefully smoothed out the sheets, apologizing for the mess, and sat down, patting the empty space beside her.

He still didn't know if it was appropriate to enter a princess's chamber, let alone sit on her bed. But she was inviting him, and he couldn't resist. He approached, his gaze fixed on her, moving his norms aside.

"I missed you too, my princess" he confessed, tenderly. She rested her head on his shoulder, taking his hands in hers.

"It's just us here, Aemond, you may call me by my name" she whispered.

Her name rolled off his lips like the sweetest secret he had ever kept. "Why are you sad?" he asked, concerned by what her eyes conveyed.

She hesitated, as if debating in her head what to say and how to say it. "I'm not sure I can tell you all my reasons" she admitted with sorrow. A small pang of disappointment inside him, but he knew that even in trust, secrets would exist. "I lost my protector, Aemond. He took my strength with him" she confessed. 

Understanding fell on him. He wanted to offer empathetic words, but he didn't know which ones would alleviate her pain.

Why was she grieving that farewell so much? As if he were a father... or maybe just a very good guard. He wanted to believe the latter, but the words he heard in the courtyard echoed in his head, making everything increasingly clear.

There was nothing more to say; he didn't want to torment her further by asking questions.

"My mother wants us to go to Dragonstone" she declared.

He spun around quickly to look at her, surprised by the news, causing her to give a small jump at the sudden movement. How could he be so unlucky? He had found the companion of his dreams, only a few moons had passed, and now he had to let her go?

"What? Why?" he asked, unable to hide his dismay, a knot threatening to form in his throat.

"I do not know" she murmured, shrugging with sadness, and the tears that he suspected had been accompanying her these days returned, filling her eyes.

"When?"

"In a fortnight, perhaps, when everything is arranged."

"You cannot leave" he protested, his voice trembling with emotion. "You cannot leave me. You’re my only friend."

"I do not want to go, but it's not my decision" she replied with the same helplessness as him.

"Please, ask your mother to let you stay," he said urgently, determination in his eyes, "I’m going to take care of you. I really am."

"You're just a boy" she denied.

"I'll be two and ten soon" he reminded her, taking her hands again in his, searching her gaze. 

"I'll train harder, I swear" he pleaded, not knowing what else to say. "I won't let anyone ever hurt you." His lips began to tremble, and tears fell from her green eyes, sliding down through  flushed cheeks. He felt a deep pain in his chest at seeing her like this, and he didn't want to make this any harder for her, but he wasn't ready to lose her.

"Please" he whispered, begging.

"I'll talk to my mother, but I cannot make you any promises" she warned.

It was enough for him for now. He clung to that small hope, determined to fight alongside her and for her through whatever challenges fate had in store for them.

“Would you stay with me tonight?”

@callsignwidow @helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers ♥︎

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #house targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fluff

[jazzyblusnowflake]

I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.

(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)

Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying

oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....

Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]

See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭

But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-

//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.

overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭

either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]

but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.

Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]

as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...

one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...

anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.

and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")

#snowballflo #snow rambles #murder drones #nuzi #vuzi #nuziv #envuzi #biscuitbites #violetviolence #violentbitingbiscuits #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v #envy #envee #goldenmemories

[itsonlydana]

Find a cure for my heart | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑

On the eve of the battle, you and Thranduil spent a night that spurred a flurry of letters while Dale grew as a city and you both grew too, first apart, then closer again. However, you couldn't bring yourself to burden him with the truth that your health was deteriorating with each passing day.

warnings/tags: sickness, angst, mentions of death (reader is actively dying but only realizes after Thranduil helps) hurt/comfort, happy end

words: 5,6k

an: finally finished this fic after working on it since January. If you are interested in being tagged when I post new fics– comment that under this post or send it to me in my inbox!

+ masterlist + rules

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Contrary to general belief, the elves did not return to their forests immediately after the battle.

In the stories told, there would be remarks, on how the Elvenking offered his help to the yet-to-be-crowned King Bard once more, bringing aid with however warriors he had left for disposal to search the endless chaos and ruins of Dale for survivors until many sunsets later.

They would speak about the sorrow of losing friends and family and neighbors to a war that had been won at costs no one could comprehend yet, and they would mention how the great Elvenking guided them through the darkest of nights for he had experienced this all before; the grief, the helplessness and the colossal question of What now, who's to say we haven't lost ourselves as well as those we have to bury?

Many had their own experience with the Elvenking, whether it was a hand pulling them off the ground, a loaf of bread delivered to them after days of fighting, or a warm blanket to huddle under to finally lay their body to rest under the watchful eye of Elves that had sworn to protect them.

You had your own story. A different one.

But it wasn't one with the Elvenking, no; the night before the battle, where the air was filled with the sound of blades being sharpened and children crying for their parents, you had met Thranduil, King of the Woodland Elves but most importantly: a set of strong arms that caught you as you stumbled out of Bard's tent.

You needed to run away from the discussions over how to draw the dwarfs out of the mountain.

You'd been a friend to Bard for many long years but standing in that luscious tent, being offered wine as the Wizard, Bard, and the Hobbit pondered over what was about to happen while you weren't sure your mind caught up on what had happened already, there was no room for friendship inside your panic-riddled chest.

Just as you flung open the tent flaps and tried to dash away to get some air, your foot caught on a root, and had it not been for Thranduil's fast reflexes, you surely would've planted your face into the dirt and mud.

Up until now, you had no idea what had transcended between the two of you at the moment where his arms held you up, his softening face looking down at your widened eyes filled with tears and your tongue too tied up and heavy to say anything other than: "Air– please"

Whatever it had been, likely an unspoken wish – by Thranduil or you, or maybe you both; it didn't matter – for someone who would not pass judgment over the urge to disappear from your skin and role and crown for one night, a fallen star flung across the darkened skies at the right time.

It felt as though Thranduil had pulled a sheet over your heads; your world narrowed down to this other soul and how beautiful and divine his body felt on yours as you found a way to survive the night before life as you knew it turned once more and the solid ground beneath your feet shifted and broke.

A few nights, while unforgettable and brooding with feelings neither of you admitted to, did not change that you had to move on somehow.

Although the Elves did not depart for Mirkwood immediately and Thranduil and you were given time in the aftermath to find the other in the cover of the night and under the pretense this was nothing more than mere distraction, a wishing star could only do so much shining before dimming out.

The day you awoke to a sunrise bathing the debris of Dale in a pinkish and warm light, pillars being rebuilt dipped into molten gold, and the cracks glued together, Thranduil's strong arms were wrapped around your middle as if he wanted to hinder you from sneaking away, you knew it was him who would leave you before the day was over.

And so he did.

Sunrise came and went and soon enough all the tents were packed up on horseback and wagons, leaving flattened grass as the only reminder they had been there at all if and there were goodbyes, political between Bard and the Elvenking who parted from the weary man and his children with the promise of support, and between you and Thranduil in the form of a slow nod.

Thranduil sat high on a dark stallion, dressed in silver and long robes that hid fingerprints that spoke of an attempt to cling to transience. His chin lowered, though his eyes were fixed on you.

You knew that nod carried the conversation you had whispered into the morning mist.

And it was all that wasn't said that motivated you to step away first and turn your back on the caravan that took away a King and a Lover.

There was much to do, the looming task of building up Dale needed everyone's full attention, and that included you.

Especially you.

There were houses to plan, accommodations to be made so that no one needed to sleep under the stars.

No one could ever pry the reason why you were keen on getting a roof under everyone out of your hands; a lonely part of you wanted the stars to remember you and Thranduil lying in the grass. And no one else.

The first letter arrived a few weeks after you hadn't had the heart to watch him go and threw yourself into one task after the other, dismissing even the smallest hint of sickness, like the heaviness inside your chest every time you lifted something heavy, or tiredness crashing down onto you in moments to catch your breath, to continue working, that you wouldn't find a moment to admit how much you missed him.

That utterly ridiculous mindset stopped as soon as the messenger Elf rode into the city and hand-delivered you the first of many envelopes with the nearly indecipherable handwriting of Thranduil.

Or the Elvenking.

Because the first letter, despite being addressed to you as well as Bard, who wouldn't have been able to read it in the first place, was a list of things the King would send and a question of what else was needed that he could provide.

"It's fine," you said to Bard through a smile that didn't reach your eyes as you read aloud the letter twice, from the greeting to the last paragraph that was signed 'the Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Mirkwood and friend of Dale'.

In the flickering light of the candle dripping wax onto the table between you, the dark circles under Bard's eyes were all the more prominent than when he was running around the city and there was a bottomless pit in your stomach that wouldn't want to add to the many things he was already worrying about.

"It's totally fine," you said to Bard when he asked if you had skipped over a private note from Thranduil or if there truly wasn't one (there wasn't, you had turned the letter over and over in your hands until the edges became soft and wrinkled) and you both knew that to be a lie.

You answered the letter in the same professional manner because even though you wanted to, you couldn't send a letter to a King helping however he could and expecting nothing in return with a smeared "I wish for your heart and our nights and for your voice to tell me we are alright" written under tears in another sleepless night.

The next few letters follow the same pattern, Elvenking Thranduil Oropherion would inquire if there was anything Dale needed and answer Bard's question on leadership and share his knowledge of what was fundamental for a new King, and you would write for Bard on the other side.

The weeks passed and so did the hope of rekindling that fire you had thought to burn in the both of you.

That Thranduil didn't see the need to reach out was a punch to the gut that left little room for anything else but disappointment of putting your effort into pulling on a rope that wasn't attached to something on the other end.

Why waste the dwindling energy of your exhausted body on someone who would live longer than the memory of you?

Every time a new letter arrived by messenger you would find Bard until one late evening you opened the letter by yourself and saw your name written in that beautiful sharp handwriting, not Bard's added in front or behind; only your given name and not your title.

Your hands shook as you stood in the frame of what was to be your house and the ink glued together the cracks of your heart.

'Forgive me for not writing to you sooner and for how sentimental I must sound. It has been weeks since I last saw you and every time I wander through my familiar halls, I find there is no soul around that could understand me how you did, whom I could tell what plagues my mind. The time we spent together has not left my thoughts. Neither has the promise to not grow apart too much and I apologize for not contributing to that. Now, if you would still have me, I would like nothing more than to hear how you are faring. As for me…'

Nothing had the power to stop you from running off that giddy feeling that spread through your chest as Thranduil, finally Thranduil, wrote about the happenings in Mirkwood; not even the cough that sat deep where suppressed laughter spilled into the grass you fell into– the letter clutched into your hands.

Thranduil and you fell into a routine then, one that was no obstruction for the many tasks at hand but made room for each other to hold on to the promise.

You would send out two letters, one on behalf of Bard whom you taught his signature as well as a few more words every fortnight you sat down together, and one addressed to Thranduil, filled with all the thoughts that ran through your mind that you wanted to tell him.

It was by no means as precious as the talks you had now many weeks ago, not when there were days you had to wait for a response instead of seconds.

You appreciated them all the same, every bit of himself that Thranduil wrote into his messages was countered with a confession of your own.

When he said he wished to know where his son had disappeared to or rather if he followed the direction Thranduil had given to him, you admitted to the nightmares that still plagued your mind, the dreams of fire and a monster that still rested in the lake.

You offered piece after piece, chipped bits of your heart into every letter that you sent away, and after a few weeks had passed, and Dale was taking shape with its houses raking their roofs to the sky and its people planting seeds and flowers, rooting themselves into what now was theirs, there was not much left of your heart that was completely yours and not Thranduil's and the letters of his proved that the same could be said about him.

What you did not mention, not with one drop of ink, was that the nightmares were no longer confined to the few hours of sleep you fell into.

There was a dragon, not just in the cold lake where your old home lay in ashes and was drowned in the ruthless darkness, but by the heavy weight on your chest, it felt like there was one inside you as well.

You were coughing as if there was smoke blocking your lungs, blackening out what little air you heaved for when a coughing fit took over your whole body.

It started small, a cough then, a sleepless night there; both accumulated to an uncountable amount and it got only worse as the season changed and the autumn winds lost their last warm touches and the trees bared their wooden arms.

You waved it off as a common cold, nothing that would hinder you from your tasks to becoming a liability the city didn't need in its time of growth.

Then, the coughing got worse, rougher, sometimes taking your voice for a moment until you found some water although that only helped for a small moment, like trying to extinct a burning building with just the water your bare hands could carry.

The worst part was the blood that stained the cloths, the sweats that not only held you awake at night but weakened you at day as well.

"I'm better!" you promised Bard on a night when he had to sit next to your bed, wringing out the cold cloths that lay on your fevered forehead.

His voice was a low whisper when he dabbed away the sweat, pushing your wet hair back with hands that were far too gentle for what you deserved for rotting in bed and not pulling your weight, "You're not, an' that's clear for everyone but you. Did you tell him?"

"Yes," you lied through your teeth, eyelids dropping close from exhaustion but you knew sleep wouldn't come, "he said it would pass, nothing to worry 'bout."

Three days later you were on your legs again, if not a bit shaky and needing more breaks than ever.

You sat in Bard's kitchen, a warm bowl of soup in front of you that tasted like ash and firewood, and ignored the silent pleading in his eyes to tell him what was going on and why you could barely lift the spoon of a soup that you clearly did not enjoy.

Winter wore your body down like rough sandpaper on soft oak, the cold winds and dark hours an enemy far worse than what you had to encounter on the battlefield. This had no logical explanation, nor was there an enemy you could see.

Your own body betrayed you and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it.

You knew that somewhere was a solution to it all, that was the string of hope leading you through the snow outside and the fire in your blood and bones, singing down what little fight was left on the days when the sun pushed away gray clouds and you felt normal and healthy.

The sole reason why you lied in letters filled with otherwise honesty as pure as heaven's snowflakes was that you did not want to be a bother.

Thranduil wrote how much of his time the dwarfs and their trading demands swallowed; he did not need another burden and you would be damned if he came because you had a small cold you couldn't get rid of.

You had promised Thranduil to visit him in spring when the soil was rich enough for the seed to take and the livestock could roam the meadows. If you weren't better by then you would ask him.

Until then work demanded all of you. Even if that was through a white knuckle grip on the last bits of health in aching bones.

⸺

Spring brought forth daffodils pushing through the cobblestone streets. Tilda, the youngest Bardling and a wonderful distraction on the days when getting out of bed was the hardest bounced excitedly beside you and pointed at the flowers.

"Like stubborn trumpets proclaiming winter is finally over!" she said as you followed her outside. "Spring is finally here!"

You disregarded the pain echoing through your body, the weight of guilt forcing you to spend the day with the girl.

She had been knocking on your door every morning, angelic eyes asking if you wanted to come and play with the lambs that she had taken too and this morning, you couldn't disappoint her.

"Aren't they just so pretty?" Tilda crouched down, gently cupping one of the blossoms in her small hands.

Lowering your gaze from the burning brightness of the sun you got a short glimpse at the yellow dots decorating your doorstep.

Then, suddenly, black spots appeared on the edge of your vision, taking you by surprise though they have been your companion for the better part of the last few days.

"Tilda–"

You tried to hold on to your doorframe, bruised hands frantically searching for a grip on the warm wood but they slipped and caught only the edge.

The last thought that crossed your mind was that you should bring Thranduil some of those flowers before you blinked and crumbled to the ground.

⸺

You woke up to the confusing taste of grass on your heavy tongue and the dizzying realization that you were not spread out on the street but tugged inside your bed.

Above you, moonlight fell through the opened window in the slanted roof above your head and you immediately closed your eyes again.

This had to be a dream.

Though your dreams had not been like this in a long time.

Peaceful. Comfortably warm. Silent except for the croaking of toads, the buzzing of insects outside, and the laughter and clattering of your neighbors probably enjoying the night more than you.

A groan passed your lips as you tried to sit up; a seemingly impossible task with the heaviness of your bones as well as the mountain of blankets that covered you.

"What do you think you are doing?" a voice you knew all too well sneered.

For a second you thought it to be a hallucination, a projection or your dazed mind still lulled in the fog of unconsciousness.

The bones in your neck cracked as your head snapped to the other side. There was no way you did not imagine the tall figure that should be across the woods in his palace; not in your bedroom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Merely strolling through the neighborhood," Thranduil's voice dripped with sarcasm, yet a subtle tension marked his stance beside the bed. "Now, enlighten me. Did you conveniently forget to mention this sickness in your letters?"

Ah, straight to the point.

"It's trivial," you waved it off, attempting to assert yourself by sitting up.

Naturally, consciousness promptly slipped away once more.

This time you were not that surprised by the sharp taste of grass on your lips when you came to your senses once more, pushed back into the pillows that had never felt this stuffed. You were still unable to move your leg more than from one side to the other under the blankets and Thranduil was still there, glaring at you through dark furrowed brows and hardened eyes.

You wanted to say something to break the heavy silence but all that passed your lips was a giggle that was more desperate and closer to insane than amusement.

One brow lifted. "Oh, how glad I am you are entertained by this," said Thranduil. He was as rigid in a frightening calm way but all of that was overshadowed by the cloud of confusion that muddled your thoughts.

"Noo," you drew out the word and continued giggling. This had to be insanity. "You jus' look very out of place here – wait. Turn around? I need to make sure you're really here."

He didn't fit into the cramped space of your house, his fine clothing stood out against the poor backdrop of crooked furniture, used towels hanging over stools, and the small layer of dust that covered the areas you hadn't been able to clean in a while; which was most of the bedroom and you didn't dare think about the state of the kitchen.

Where he deserved a throne out of gold you could only offer the chair next to your bed, the one that was crooked and leaned heavily to one side.

That being said, nothing took away the sheer amount of power he radiated.

It easily filled every nook and cranny or tight corner of your humble house, his voice as well as the image of Thranduil, King of the Elves, towering over your bed in long robes and bathed in the light of the night sky, glittering silver like the moon knew the importance of the Elf in front of you.

Thranduil remained stoically still. "I will definitely not do that," he said. "I am here. Where I should have been a while ago."

The accusation would have hit harder if you weren't drugged up on whatever medicine he had apparently fed you while you were out cold.

You shrugged your shoulders as well as you could with your arms bundled under the blankets. "I saw no reason, it was just a cold. Nothing I couldn't manage."

Well, you hadn't managed to handle it, that was the worst realization of the whole lie.

"Clearly," Thranduil said sarcastically and ground his teeth against each other. His arms were behind his stiff back and the way he tilted his head down to you made you feel like a child being admonished for bad behavior. "Do you know how much despair I felt when Bard's letter arrived this morning?" His voice was even but there was a resonance in it – a deep rumble akin to the ominous approach of distant thunderstorms over the sea. "Nearly indecipherable scrambles where he begged me to come; telling me that you have been asleep for two whole days?"

A crack in the form of a small tremor broke through the mask of the all-mighty Elvenking.

"This morning?" you asked, caught up by the first part and ignorant of everything that followed after, and you huffed while running the calculations through your head. "Thranduil, this can not be, the journey is not manageable in one day."

"Is this truly the point you consider most important?" He closed his eyes as a pained expression passed over his face. "You deem it impossible, yet I assure you, nothing could have hindered my arrival here; the boundaries of possibility, for once, were not a barrier but an aid. It reveals your scant regard for your circumstance if your worry fixates on my journey through the land. Not on the sickness that nearly stole you from this world. Two days –" Thranduil took a deep breath, "two whole days where those around you had no idea if you would ever awake again."

"But –"

"No, you can speak when I am finished," he commanded sharply. "You were reckless. Ignorant of your health as if your life was not precious." Thranduil spat the words out cold yet they burned. He was blind to the way you flinched and lowered your burning eyes to the blankets.

You shrunk deeper into the pillows, a hollow ache inside your chest that had felt empty from the pain ever since you awoke the first time.

"But –" you repeated helplessly. This time, he allowed you to continue and you did so in a whisper: "I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"An inconvenience?" he sneered back at you, the flickering lights of a few burned-down candles casting shadows over the creases of anger edged into alabaster skin.

He took a step toward the bed and you saw a twitch in his lips that had you blanching.

The fury brooding inside him was not new, you had seen it on the battlefield before. In ice-cold cuts of his sword as he flawlessly executed the most brutal movements while his face resembled a mask of the most dangerous kind of rage – stillness.

Now, there remained little of that stillness.

"You were a greater inconvenience by nearly throwing away your precious mortal life, all because of your unfathomable stubbornness!"

"There was lots to do!" you snapped back. Shortly but surely, you were fed up with his anger and the insults he was throwing at you. "This town was suffering far more than me and don't you dare tell me I'm wrong," you had to bury your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from shaking. "Dale needed me!"

The pale skin was flushed red around his heaving chest and delicate ears. "And I do not?" Thranduil road and his voice boomed through your little bedroom loud enough for the cicadas outside to fall silent.

Immediately, your eyes watered. You felt trapped under his gaze, engulfed in pure heat hotter than any dragon fire.

You searched for a response inside you but found none.

All there was was chaos – the loud beating of your heart against your chest like iron being beaten and shaped though all that was formed was pain sharp like a sword edge; cutting through the layers of protection you had wrapped around your heart.

Thranduil slightly lifted his nose, staring down at you through thick eyebrows and a clenched jawline. "You were dying," he said and his nostrils quivered. "I can not fathom how you through that would not have been a greater inconvenience.

His expressions made up in sound for the lowered voice he'd used to speak about what you previously refused to acknowledge.

Never before had you seen him this out of control of his emotions, not even on the nights he had bedded you where he still had a hold on himself.

The way he stood before you, dressed in fine robes not fit for riding, the hem of them stained by dirt, his boots muddy, and his face full of anguish, it was as if he could have been kneeling at your feet.

You ignored the tears slipping silently down your cheeks. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was indeed, and far beyond that."

The tears made it impossible for you to continue looking at him and your head dropped down as a sob broke through you. "I didn't know," you panicked, "It didn't happen fast so… so I thought it'd pass but – and then it got worse and worse and I was so afraid to speak to anyone about it." The words tumbled into your lap, where, under the blankets, your hands were balled to fists now that the strength to do so had returned to your body, "I – I couldn't," the night air stung as your breaths turned into gasps, "They – Bard was exhausted and –"

Thranduil's face softened ever so slightly, pushing away the furious frown. "You are too pure for this world," he said quietly and – dealing a fatal blow to your ever-fragile heart – slowly went down on one knee next to the bed until you were eye to eye and his cold long fingers could gently caress your wet cheek.

He stopped, most of his fingers covered in the glistening tears he'd freed you from and his thumb rested on the plushness of your lower lip. "The world would have lost its sunshine had you perished," his robes rustled as he drew closer, silver hair falling onto the blankets like stars flying across the skies, "You must promise me to be more careful or darkness shall be my companion from that day on."

How could you do anything else but break into tears once more?

They flooded your face too fast for Thranduil to catch them with his hand and he did what seemed more reasonable yet utterly out of character: he rose to push away some of the blankets and sat down on the mattress.

While his face showed some revelation of his thoughts at the meek bed of hay that surprised him, he said nothing except for a lowered: "Hush now, shh." while his arms found your shaking body and pulled you into his side.

He cradled you until there were no more tears to cry, until your cheeks hurt and your lashes clung together awfully damp, and then some more, his hands on your back, cooling down the firing heat that spread through you and the other in your hair. With tenderness, he massaged his fingertips into the areas where your head throbbed uncomfortably.

You cried for all the nights where you had suffered, drawing closer to a death you hadn't seen coming.

You cried out of relief that this was finally over, that you could breathe and inhale only the rich scents of Thranduil instead of smoke.

You sobbed uncontrollably long into the night, not caring one bit that by the time the wailing grew quiet and exhaustion rendered you weak enough to fall into his chest even more, Thranduils robes needed to be padded dry.

"Thranduil?" you asked and burrowed your nose into a spot of fabric that wasn't salty. "Can you tell me what was happening to me?"

He didn't start directly. Thranduil waited, his heart stuttering for a second that made you marvel that the muscle was affected by you at all despite the many proofs he had laid to your feet.

Were it not for the pounding headache you fostered and tried to push away by shutting away all the lights and leaving your eyes closed, you would have looked at his face to check for those minuscule expressions he only showed to you.

"At first I could not figure it out," Thranduil admitted at last and his previously stilled hand continuing the circular movements against your scalp, gathering hair between his fingers, "and that frightened me more than anything else. There was not a scratch or a wound, nothing that explained why you were hardly–" he flinched and his other hand held your waist tighter, "hardly breathing. Bard was the one who explained how much you fought against this illness all winter, ever since autumn to be precise. He spoke of the meals you denied, the coughing and shaking, the blood-soaked cloths, and how.. how you rarely slept and if you did, he told me he heard your whimpers and sobs whenever he passed your door."

"He noticed it all?"

"He loves you," Thranduil said, "He loves you just as much as his offspring."

You shut your eyes even closer, turning your head more into his chest as another layer of protection against the feeling of pain that flinched over your face like a stone skipping on water, leaving ripples of agony at the memory of the many times Bard had pleaded you to talk to him. "I never wanted him to hurt at my expense."

"He is aware you thought it to be better this way," Thranduil lovingly stroked your hair – and it was love, soft and beautiful like the elf who abandoned his kingdom to race to save you – "To go against his word to you declares him a strong man and leader, Dale will flourish under his guide and your gentle hand will provide your people all they will ever need."

"So what was it?" you asked the question eating away at you, "This sickness?"

Thranduil's fingers twirled a lock of hair as he hummed lowly, "The beast in the lake is at fault," he said, "and its body infesting the in any case dirty water that you used to still your thirst."

You lifted your head at that, staring up at Thranduil whose gaze was already on you. "The dragon?" you repeated perplexed, "I got sick because of that damned dragon?"

Thranduil nodded, "I sent out the order to have its carcass removed this instant, so no one else has to suffer this fate."

You drew your eyebrows together, the hard crease between them immediately found by Thranduil for him to smooth the frown away with his thumb and a soft click of his tongue.

"So I was the only one?" The conclusion was confirmed by another nod that sent you down another spiral of confusing thoughts and loose threats of a riddle that made no sense to you.

"A mystery," Thranduil said as if he could read your thoughts, "There is no explanation as to why you solely were affected and quite intense at that. I was glad to have brought Asëa aranion with me – although you required more than a handful until your heart finally calmed."

In a moment of contemplating silence, you barely managed to stifle a yawn.

Now that your body seemed to be fine again, all your muscles yearned for the sleep that had evaded you for the longest time.

Thranduil's pleasantly warm body around you lulled you into a state of calmness, his body heat and the memories of his touch you replaced with the feeling of his strong chest in your back, and his hands threading hair through his fingers.

He was curled up in your bed, in your home, not some tent under the stars though you could see them if you looked up and through the window.

As you did so, your eyes didn't travel further than Thranduil and the watchful look on his face.

"You're as beautiful as the day you left," you remarked in a whisper like a slip of your tongue but you meant every word.

While your body ached and wore new scars his hands and mouth hadn't explored yet, he could've been away for a day or less.

You lifted a hand to stroke over his left cheek, over the faint scarred muscles that you knew by whispers hid what he deemed hideous.

Thranduil caught your hand before it reached his cheekbones and his lips pressed a light kiss against the calluses, the signs of hours of work.

"Rest, meleth nîn, you need it."

There was no denying that the elvish words had meant something important, that was clear by the way his tongue had wrapped around the words and breathed them out like a kiss but his lowered lashes and downturned lips hindered you from asking what he had said.

This was not the time to question what was probably just for him.

Later, when you were not falling into the depths of sleep cuddled against Thranduil's chest, when you would step outside your house with his looming presence in your back ready to help you with every foot you set on the grounds, there would be stories awaiting you.

Stories of the Elvenking storming into the city on horseback and all alone, the wind seemingly carrying him faster than possible and the fury and worry on his face lowered all citizens to the grounds as he yelled for their King.

They would speak about the way he nearly broke down Bard's door and how he carried your unconscious body in his arms to your house, demanding for the crowd to make themselves rare before he had them all seized and locked into his halls for obstructing his path; and even though he had no authority, Bard was close on his heels and no one dared to object.

You would hear about the day he sat by your side, caring for you and barking out orders for more water, not the one from the lake but from the springs, and how Bard and his children were the only ones allowed to visit – explaining the yellow flowers that took up every single glass your house had to offer.

Thranduil would tell you the meaning of the words he had said that first night he had spent in your bed, fully awake and watching your sleeping form in his lap until the birds woke you up in the morning; and he would say these words on all the nights that followed.

With him in Dale, or you in Mirkwood – never apart from then on.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #king of mirkwood #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction

[moonchildstyles]

oh you got me thinking moonie

he’s already half-ready for work but he has to kiss her goodbye and he finds her in the bathroom still in the shirt and panties she slept in and she’s just fixing her hair like taking it out of the bun it was in and he just kinda stops in the doorframe as it falls over her shoulders and she’s still kinda sleepy smiling at him through the mirror and he walks up behind her and is just mumbling nice things to her bc she’s so pretty when she wakes up and she’s still warm from their bed and he gets her blushing and giggling kissing over her cheek before he’s palming over the tops of her thighs and kissing down her neck and then he’s got her bent over the counter and his hands are aaall over her while she’s just letting out the prettiest noises that have both of them spiralling quickly, all teeth clicking together and panting into each others mouths and he’s kissing her as she comes down, making sure she’s okay as he pulls her panties back to cover her and patting her bum and he gets her up on the counter, brushing her hair out of her face and talking to her before he actually has to finish getting ready and she’s just watching him fix his hair and spritz some of his cologne on asking “gonna have lunch with me today?” and being so smiley when she says yes and it hurts him to leave her while she’s still in his clothes, smelling like him, but he’s so happy because he gets to come home to her and there’s literally neither of them have ever wanted more and she walks him to the door, and i see them having a little dwd moment just kissing her and “bye” “see you in 3 hours” kissing and kissing and kissing until he’s blowing her a soft kiss and shutting the front door behind him and she’s just :) for the rest of the day because that’s her man!! and she lives with him!!! and i can’t get this out of my head - 🍓

no you KNOWWWWWWW how bad it gets me when they just kiss kiss kiss kiss and like moan into each other mouths and ofc its a quickie so its fast and a little hard and a little messy so when they’re coming down hes def asking if he hurt her if he pushed her hips against the counter too hard or if she needs him to stay a little longer but shes just dreamy and smiley and happy and kissing him and no im okay thank you:))))))) like they are so in love im so sick to my STOMACH!!!!!!! and I love the idea of her walking him to the door like following him out and saying bye w so many kisses and hes having to keep himself in check bc he knows he literally just came in her and now they’re having a cutesy little send off and he has an appt first them when he gets to the shop and its just SOOOOOOOO im terribly down bad honestly and blowing her a kiss as he leaves :( knowing that there just going to see each other for lunch super soon anyway:( and you know she keeps his shirt one when she goes to class like you know she does so when she sees him laters he thinking about licking her in his office w him again but he keeps a grip on himself🥸

#anon #ask #aster inspo #concept #🍓 anon

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S2

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: Fighting, use of blood bending, trapped

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 10 - Fraud of the Warriors

Katara and I stood in the meeting room, in the middle introducing a big map of the world. The guards were explaining the plan in two months, confirming it with Katara and I. The seriousness broke when Momo stood on the map, knocking over the pieces which resemble the fire nation and earth kingdom. “Or we can send in Momo to do some damage” Katara jokes, laughing “Cause the…sorry” She said guilty. I nudged her softly “I thought it was funny” I whispered making her smile. The general lifts up the pieces and continues on with his plan. “All we need is the Earth King's seal to execute the plan” he tosses the scroll on the slab, earth bending it to our direction. “We’ll get these scrolls to him right away” Katara grabbed the scroll as we both got up. We both said our thanks and turned to go the opposite direction towards the king. Katara must have realized how much I have looked around in Ba Sing Se. “You have been quite cautious here” Katara sweatdropped. I sighed breathily, “They took Aku away, I have no idea where he is” I said sadly. Katara pats my back “I'm sure we’ll find Aku, what does he look like?” She questions. “It's a Buffalo Yak, he is the reason I made it here in Ba Sing Se without a boat”

“We’ll be sure to find him” Katara reassures me as I smile “Thank you.”

“What do you say Y/N? Cup of tea before we give this scroll to the king” Katara asked. “Are you sure we have time for that?” I warily said, gripping the edge of my hood to make sure it doesn't fall off and expose my cover. Katara brushed it off laughing. “It's just a cup of tea, then we’ll give this scroll to the king in no time” She grabbed my hand towards the tea shop, Momo cheering along. I laughed “Okay okay, just one cup of tea” I warned teasingly. I looked at the building in confusion “I swear I have never seen this tea house before” I looked around curiously “and it has a ton of people”. “That must be a good sign,” Katara said happily, which made me smile, moments like these really make me think she is Yue. We both walk in the building, two ladies bowing at us in greeting. “Table for three please” I said politely. Right as we’re about to walk to our table I heard a familiar voice. I lifted my head up to see Zuko, wearing the uniform and holding a tray. Ah…I guess they now own a tea shop. Katara grabbed my wrist. I looked at her confused till I realized how bad terms she had with Zuko. She dragged me out of the tea house in fear as I tried to catch up to her running. “Katara wai-” “We have to tell the king this” Katara said freaking out

“Hold on!” I pull her back “He can't hurt us, the guards will take him in. I me-” “We still need to tell the king!” She once again dragged me to the palace before I explained how I met him here. I sweatdropped but continued to follow Katara.

  ҉   ☾

We made it to the palace, in front of the throne which we ran to. “Thank goodness you're here Suki, Something terrible is going on” Katara said stopping in her tracks. I looked at the Kyoshi Warriors in suspicion, something is going on. “The fire nation has infiltrated the city, I just saw Prince Zuko and his uncle! We have to tell the earth king right away”

“Wait Katara…I don't have a good feeling about this” I whispered to her. “Oh don't worry, I'll be sure to let him know”. Katara's face immediately morphed into fear. By my assumption, that is not Suki. Momo immediately flew away as a girl from the left cartwheeled towards us, hitting Katara's pressure point. Katara fell over with her water pooling beside her, the girl attempted to get mine but I dodged quickly. I learnt from Yagoda where each pressure point is and the system of the human body. Since I wasn't allowed to use my waterbend for attacking I had to benefit from it by healing. She attempted again but I dodged all her attacks, pushing her back with my water bending. However, one girl who used blades and darts threw some at me, I dodged a few but more blades sent me back to the nearest pole, making my hood come off. I attempted to pull it out of my clothing and the pole but to no avail. “Didn't think the princess of the northern tribe would be here, surprises after surprises” The main girl said. “So Zuzu is in the city too? I think it's time for a family reunion” They hover over katara. Family reunion? Makes sense that this psycho is related to Zuko. I panic once they move closer to Katara, seeing the fear in her eyes. I can't lose another one close to me. I closed my eyes trying to think of ways to free Katara. The sheer panic of trying to use my bending made me do something…else. “What's going on?” One girl called out which made me open my eyes. I lifted my hands slightly which made them move. My eyes widened…blood bending. I harshly move my hands to the left making them hit the wall and wince. “Katara leave” I yell, managing to lift her up with blood bending  and moving her out the door. “Y/N! What about you?” She yelled in worry “I’ll figure it out!”. Katara managed to escape, holding her shoulder in discomfort. I made sure she left and turned to face the trio. “I guess we have a blood bender” the middle one smiled devilishly. I gulped in worry and felt chains on my wrist, preventing me from bending at all. “Hey!” I spat attempting to maneuver my way out of these chains but there was no use. The 2 girls moved me to an empty room. I attempted to move my leg to break the chains however the chains were too high up for me to break. I scream in irritation, how come I am never strong enough?

It's been hours till the door opened up, showing the earth kingdom guards. I was excited, thinking I was going to be saved however that was short lived by their faces. They were not here to save me… “Oh what do you want” I said annoyed. I got no response but them grabbing my wrists and moving me “Now why do you need to mo- Woah!” The guards pushed me down a cave. I felt the impact of the stony floor and winced, lifting myself up. “What's your problem?!” I yelled but my voice just echoed through the walls. I huff in annoyance and walk around thinking what I can do in this situation. While continuing to walk around, I saw a light. I lifted my head towards the light and saw the guards again, however there was an additional person which was now thrown in. I looked down to take a better look at the person, once he lifted his head up I realized who he was. “Zuko…” I glared at him and he confusedly glared up at me. What in the world is happening?

<- Back - Next ->

A/N: I realized that the warnings were NEVER UPDATED LMAO Anyways sorry for the small chapter but hey! Zuko is guaranteed for the next chapter! Make sure yall take care of yourself and have a nice day.

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taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish@pbeckn26@jasminesacademia @kyo-kyo1

#zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko #zuko atla #zuko avatar the last airbender #zuko avatar #atla #fire lord #fire lord zuko #the gaang #gaang #zuko fanfic #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #alta zuko x reader #reader #reader insert #female reader #fem reader #x female reader #zuko imagine #alta x reader #avatar last airbender #prince zuko x you #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x y/n #waterbending #waterbender reader #waterbender #avatar the last airbender

[haikyu-mp4]

hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍

i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞

Unusual affection

thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3

word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive

You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.

So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…

that is one gorgeous man!

“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.

“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.

“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.

“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.

He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?

Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.

You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”

“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”

You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”

A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”

Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.

Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.

“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.

“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.

You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”

Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.

Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.

“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.

“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”

Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.

“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”

Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.

Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.

“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”

Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.

“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.

Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.

masterlist

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