#“You guys fought the Dark Lord and lived???”

[knightmareaceblue]

Happy October! It's the perfect time of the year to gather around the fire, roast some marshmallows, and tell horror stories about that time you and your roommates took in a monster that broke into your house!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 5

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader + uniform kink

I’ve been a Darth Vader fanboy (dickrider) for so long, I’m amazed I haven’t written smut about him before. This is loosely based on a plot idea I’ve had for a long time but never sat down and wrote.

This is the longest thing ive written for this kinktober, the spirit of star wars itself must have posessed me.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

You were an imperial officer, you hadn’t always been one of course. Before the empire rose you had been your average war general under the republic working closely with the jedi and their clonetroopers, most of all you worked with the 501st lead under Anakin Skywalker, a name not even allowed to be murmured anymore. You had always carried some sort of candle for general Skywalker, the hero with no fear, but everyone knew jedi weren’t allowed to be in relationships, and even if they were, you could never imagine Skywalker being interested in you.

For some reason, after the empire rose you had joined their ranks. What else could you do? You had lost everything in the war, and even though you didn’t believe in their propaganda, you knew the republic had been just as corrupt, they just hid it better. Your old coworkers had never liked how easily you switched sides for credits, but since you had no one to tie yourself too it was easy to put on a new uniform and kill under some randos orders. It was what had made you so useful during the clone wars and for the empire afterwards, you were quick and smart and had little mercy in your soul.

Of course, your heart gave a squeeze when you would see the formerly lively clones be reduced to mindless flesh droids, or when you saw the few remaining jedi being dragged away for re-education or to be gotten rid of. But under the emperor you were paid handsomely, more than most other officers you learned, why though you could never tell. Maybe it was the fact that you were the longest lasting officer under Lord Vader, as the sith had a tendency to snuff out the life of anyone who got on his nerves. Anyone but you.

For some reason, Vader seemed to like you, at least to the degree a sith could like somebody. He kept you around, at least. And at times you were sure he was staring at you longer than was appropriate, but you weren’t gonna say anything, especially to the guy known for snapping necks of anyone who got in his way.

Your status as Vader’s personal officer came one day in the form of a special uniform. It looked like your average imperial officer uniform, except for the fact that instead of black or white, the top part of your uniform was now a dark deep crimson. The color reminded you of dried blood. The pants were pitch black, the same shade as Vader’s cloak. If you looked deeper into your outfit, you would see the stitches were done with a red thread, almost like Vader’s saber. It was clear you were Vader’s, whether you wanted it or not.

Being Vader’s personal officer was isolating, more than usual. You had always been known as cold and tough, because you had to be to have lasted as long as yourself standing so close to Vader and the emperor. But after being so visibly marked as someone under Vader’s terrifying eye, all new officers and troopers seemed to avoid you or walk on eggshells around you, as if fearing your wrath would be Vader’s wrath itself. You had gotten used to the loneliness a long time ago, but as more and more officers and crew from your time were replaced you ended up having just yourself and your thoughts.

And your thoughts somehow always ended up back on Anakin Skywalker, that jedi general you had fought beside many years ago now. You wondered how he would have felt if he knew who you had become, how much blood was on your hands, how many innocents you had doomed. You knew deep down it was stupid, he had never truly known you, you had been nothing but coworkers, fellow generals. But for some reason, his handsome face, beautiful eyes, and strong body would appear in your dreams and in the recess of your mind.

Even as you stood behind Vader in the cockpit of the large ships he would parade around in, you would find some of your attention sliding to memories of Skywalker. For some reason his clothes had always fascinated you, the dark robes had been so unusual for jedi, but they had been perfect on him. Maybe it was because of this that small twinges in your mind had started feeling a pull to Lord Vader of all people.

Maybe it was his height, his presence, or just the black clothing he wore that seemed to light something in your mind. Maybe it was fear mixing itself with lust, as you had noticed how he seemed even more tense than usual. Others would be unable to see, but you had stood behind him since the moment the emperor brought him forth. You could see it in the way his fists tightened, and his gloves creaked, or how his breathing just became a lad louder from what you could under imagine was frustration.

You were sure you were going mad from your isolation when your dreams were starting to become filled with not only Anakin Skywalker but Darth Vader, their gloved hands pulling at your body, Vader holding you up as Anakin had his way with you, or Anakin’s mechanical hand twisting and torturing your length as Vader made you choke on his fingers or cock, depending on if your dream thought the cyborg sith even possessed privates.

Normally you would be able to release the tension these dreams brought you, but Vader had seemed to call you to his personal quarters late at night. This night your dream had been stranger than usual, there had not been just Anakin or Vader, or even both at once, instead Anakin and Vader had been on. You had been in your imperial officer garb as well, something that rarely happened in your dreams featuring Skywalker, and the Vader Anakin amalgamation has pulled you apart. His heavy breathing still rang in your ears as you hurried towards your lords’ quarters.

The halls were empty, or as empty as they could be as you passed a couple of troopers patrolling, whom all saluted you as they were supposed to. You were sure you looked a mess, the call from Lord Vader had been urgent, and you hadn’t had time to pick up your newly pressed uniforms yet and had to put on the one you had worn all day. Outside the door of Vader’s quarters, you took a deep breath as you collected yourself, before knocking.

When you were welcomed in you almost choked at the sight before you, for a moment you were sure your lord was suffocating you with the force. There had never been a bed in Lord Vader’s room, as he had no need for one, but now there was. It was large, big enough to fit maybe three or four beings Vader’s own size, and the sheets were blood red and looked so expensive even your high salary felt a hit.

“Sir” you stated, straightening your back as you tried to not let your thoughts run haywire as Vader sat upon the bed like a king on his throne. Maybe it was leftovers from your dreams, but the spread of his powerful thighs and slow deep breathing leaving his respirator had your palms going clammy under his gloves. You cursed the fit of your uniform, as you were sure your halfchub caused by your dream was still visible as you stood straight.

This was it, Vader was gonna get rid of you for daring to show up looking so disheveled and uneven. “Officer” he rumbled in his deep voice, and you clenched your teeth and shut your eyes, ready for what you were sure was gonna be your death. Instead you felt your body being lurched forwards with what you knew was the force, falling to your knees as the force seemed to pull your feet out from under you.

As you opened your eyes you found yourself on your knees between Vader’s strong thighs, his gloved palm coming to hold your chin as he seemed to look you over with a critical eye, even under his helmet. You gulped, your halfchub filling up faster than you could dream of suppressing, and the scoffed exhale that left Vader made it sure you knew that he knew just how affected you were.

His other hand came up and adjusted the collar of your uniform, his strong mechanical fingers lingering around the vulnerable flesh of your neck. “Your dreams, officer. Are so very loud” he spoke in that deep voice of his, you were sure you heard it wrong as it felt like he had purred out those words. You face became hot, and so did your entire body, at the mention of your dreams. You knew force users could read or sense thoughts, but some innocent hopeful part of yourself had hoped your dreams would stay secret.

“Your uniform is out of order” he rumbled, the blank lenses of his helmet forcing you to stare at your own reflection. You tried to force yours mouth open to speak, to apologize for your appearance and your dreams, maybe to beg for mercy. But your lord seemed to have different plans, as his booted foot pressed against your crotch where you were hardest, a surprised moan leaving you.

“Remove your coat, officer” he rumbled, the fingers gripping your chin tightening until you followed his orders almost desperately. This had to be a dream, you were sure of it, why else would lord Vader be letting you rut against his boot like some kind of dog. “Your room is just below me own, did you know? You broadcast your dreams loudly” he kept going, grinding his boot harder between your thighs, making you gasp and grasp as his leg.

“You must make it up to me” Vader rumbled, and all speculation if he even possessed privates left your mind. In your dreams he had always been large, as he was so tall, but seeing it did it no justice. His strong grip knocked your hat off your head, another part of your uniform, as he pulled you forwards. You barely had time to prepare before your mouth as filled, and the tight fabric of your uniform pants became unbearable as you found yourself arching at the act.

Vader didn’t moan as he fucked your face, or rather pulled your head back and forth at his whim, but his breathing shook and that was enough for you. Your mind was a jumbled mess of Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker, for some reason you had grown hooked on the combination. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have noticed that Vader would thrust down your throat extra hard whenever images of the jedi appeared in your mind, but you could barely keep focus.

There was no warning as he came, just an extra deep exhale and him bottoming out, forcing your nose against his hairless pubic area. His shiny boot rolled against your crotch, and you were almost sure he must have done something with the force as you found yourself finish, even as he made you swallow all he gave you, you stained the inside of your boxers and uniform pants.

It took a moment to clear your thoughts as Lord Vader finally let you pull back, your throat sore in the best way and your eyes teary. You must have looked a mess, as Vader wiped under your drooling mouth with his large thumb. “Go fix up your uniform, officer” he rumbled, the force pushing you to your feet even as you almost buckled at the knees. Maybe you were still high on your orgasm, but you swore his tone was softer than normal, and that his touch was more careful as he put your hat back on your head and you tucked your jacket back on.

“I will call for you in the morning” Vader spoke, his tone meaningful in a way that had excitement brewing in you once more. “Sir” you replied in affirmation, trying not to shiver at how raw your voice was. As you hurried back to your quarters, Vader exhaled loudly as he ran his hand over his helmeted face, for once wishing he still possessed his old face so that maybe he could have indulged you in that so powerful dream of yours.

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 9

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: Okay remember when I said there would be a lot more angst? Well here we are. We have arrived at angst station, everybody off the train. This part is so dramatic I really laid it on thick here. Regardless I hope you enjoy and I will try to get part 10 up ASAP!!!

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexism, super heavy angst, this got really dark, violence, blood, implied rape (but not described), did I mention violence?, (I'm sorry you guys.)

Word Count: 6,333

The next morning I wake up in my own bed and I don’t move for hours. 

Thankfully, after about an hour of crying by the Sidra, Azriel found me and took me back to the House of Wind.  Apparently Cassian had sent him, which gave me a little bit  of hope. That is until I went to his door and found his room empty. According to Azriel he left for Windhaven after returning home to pack a bag.  I didn’t need to interrogate further to know that Cassian wouldn’t be back before the wedding. 

I spent the entire day before the wedding in bed, staring at the sliver of light on the floor that the curtains let into the darkened room. Everytime I close my eyes I could hear Cassian and I’s laughter, which made me unable to fall asleep. When I wasn’t reminiscing over memories of Cassian I was listening intently to the sounds of the house, hoping I would hear his heavy boots thudding back to his room. I just wanted to see him one last time. 

However, those footsteps never came, and I found myself staring at the wall until my body gave up on me, from either exhaustion or hunger and I fell asleep.

Cassian’s pov: 

The second I landed in Windhaven I cracked open a bottle of whiskey and downed a glass praying it would allow me to sleep. Of course I was wrong. 

The entire night I saw images of y/n holding that little girl in her arms. God I had practically melted right then and there, thinking about what she would look like holding our own children. How adorable they would be with their tiny wings. 

My sleepless night had carried over with me the next day, everything and everyone putting me on edge. A young Illyrian had dropped their sword while sparring and I blew up at him. Devlon tried to argue that the females shouldn’t be training and I nearly slammed his head into a wall.

I was aggressively sharpening my swords on the edge of the sparring ring when Azriel found me, my brother simply  nodded his head towards the center as if to say “blow off some steam big fella.” I couldn’t turn him down, as he was the only one who could give me a run for my money, and today he sure did. 

“You fight like shit and you look like shit too brother,” Azriel barked after beating me again. He tossed his sword to the ground seemingly calling it quits for the day. 

“Yeah well my mate is about to marry another male in the next 12 hours so how did you expect to find me?” I gripe at him taking my seat on a weathered rock. 

“I suppose I wouldn’t know what to do in your situation either,” he admitted, taking a seat next to me. 

“Seems about right for me. Grew up a bastard and lived in the mud till you and Rhys’ sorry asses came along. Lost my mother and never even got to bury her, fought for 500 years, and then became mated to the princess, who is marrying another male.”  I scoff, shaking my head at the ridiculousness. “I’ll give the mother one thing, at least she’s consistent.”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, as if taking in what I had said before clapping a hand on my back, “The pain, it will go away Cass. It will take time, but I will be there with you every step of the way.” he assured me, and for a moment I felt a little lighter. 

“Get wasted with me tomorrow?” I ask more seriously than I should.

“You know I will,” he said, offering me a slight smile. 

I hoped that Rhys had gotten some more whiskey since the last time I raided his cabinet, because I don’t think any amount of drink could make me forget the way she looked at me the first morning we woke up together. The way she would laugh when I kissed her cheeks, the feeling of her delicate hands running soap over my wings. How she would say “you need a bath!” when I would give her a sweaty hug after training. The face she made when I distracted her from one of her romance novels by tickling her feet that rested in my lap.  

By the cauldron, I was a dead man. 

y/n's pov:

Stepping into the Autumn Court felt like I was walking to my own execution. Instead of Eris being at the end of that aisle there would be a guillotine. I almost wished for that instead. Any comment made by Rhys about how I seemed tired I chalked up to pre-wedding nerves and thankfully he didn’t push after that. 

The entire morning had been spent poking and prodding at my skin, my hair and my eyes.  If I thought that Nuala and Cerridwen were meticulous I was sorely mistaken. The ladies of the Autumn Court didn’t mess around and if this was my life going forward (which sadly it was), cauldron boil me. 

The ladies in wait primped me up until a half an hour before I walked down the aisle. I had to literally commande them out of my suite in order to have a moment alone. I sat staring at myself in the floor length mirror. For what it was worth, I looked beautiful. I half expected the dress that was chosen for me to be  awful and gaudy, however it was elegant. The lace along the neckline mimicking the flames associated with Eris’ power. Had I been walking down the aisle to a different groom, I might venture to say that I was excited to be married. However as I stared at myself in my white wedding dress I couldn’t help but feel a tear slide down my face. 

A tentative knock reverberated through the room, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I took a deep breath and wiped away a stray tear. 

“Come in,” I said with shaky words looking at the double oak doors through the mirror before me.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was looking around the room before entering. A large figure finally popped it’s head in, eyes finding me immediately. I would know that jet black hair anywhere. 

Cassian. 

I whirled around to meet his gaze as he shut the door, taking slow and tentative steps towards me. His eyes searched my face for any hint of anger or resentment. 

“Cass,” I breathed, as if to assure myself he was really there. 

“You look beautiful,” he smiled looking me up and down, but I could see the veiled sadness on his face. He was putting on a front, and a bad one at that.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a tentative step towards him. “How did you get in here?”

“They don’t have you that well guarded,” he chuckled, stepping closer till he stood before me. Neither of us reached for one another, unsure of where we both stood. It felt wrong not to instantly wrap my arms around him. “I don’t like where we left things,” he continued.

“Neither do I,”   

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I yelled at you that night. I’m sorry about the things I said,” he starts again. His hands reach for mine but pull back as if afraid to touch me. “I wanted to say that I understand now. And that I think you are incredibly brave to be doing this for Velaris. I’ll never be happy that you’re marrying Eris, and I’ll always wish it was me. But I understand now, and I respect the love you have for your people, and the lengths you’re willing to go to to keep them safe. Will you forgive me?” 

I feel the stray tear pricking my eye once more, “There was never anything to forgive Cass. I was more upset with myself for giving you false hope. For going along and loving you and acting like things were going to be alright when I couldn’t guarantee it.” I sigh, casting my head down, unable to face him.

I feel his gentle calloused hand tip my chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes, that beautiful hazel, glassed over. Despite it all, despite what I put him through, there is still so much love in them, and I know I’ll never really deserve it.

“Loving you was the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and ever will know,” he smiles as if he’s remembering the short time we did have together. “I’ll be here waiting if you should ever change your mind or in case something ever happens.” 

“Cass,” I start to protest but he stops me.

“I’ve loved you for so many years y/n. There can be no one else but you. If I don’t get to have you until we are both old and gray so be it. I’ve waited this long,” he assures me cupping my cheek.  

I don’t even have words to reply to his confession. Boundaries be damned. I threw myself around him pulling him as close as possible. His arms tighten around me like he had been waiting for me to make a move. In the embrace there’s an understanding, an unsaid agreement.

I back away to see those hazel eyes once more, my own eyes raking over his body. I notice he’s not dressed in a fine suit jacket, or even his fighting leathers. Instead, he’s donning a loose fitted shirt, something completely unfit for a royal wedding. 

“You’re not staying are you?” I ask, pressing a hand to his stubbled cheek that tells me he didn’t shave this morning.

“No, I just had to see you one last time,”  he answers, taking my hand from his cheek so he could hold both of them. 

The weight of his words shoot right through me, and as I look at him, I let them sink in. I watched as a tear slid down his own cheek, it was the only time I had ever seen the general cry. 

“One last time,” I repeated, letting the words consume me. 

His eyes glanced down at my lips, a silent plea to taste them again,

“Can I?” he whispered. 

“Gods yes,” I sigh. 

A hand drifted up cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. The last kiss we might ever share. I poured every ounce of love into it trying to give him something to remember me by, trying to savor every moment of it for when my days ahead were darkest. My chest heaved as if being pulled forward and then…

Snap.

It was as if a piece of me was returned, one I never knew I lost. I pulled back to meet his gaze and by the way he looked at me I could tell he knew, had known. I felt like I was truly seeing him for the first time as that shimmering golden bond glowed between us.

“You’re my-” I started but I jumped at the bang sounding throughout the room. 

My eyes met the fiery auburn of Eris’ as he entered the room, at least twenty autumn court soldiers behind him. I didn’t have time to step away as he winnowed to me pulling me away from Cassian. 

“You!” he seethed at my general who was already assessing the situation. “I had my suspicions but never the proof and you fell into my trap so easily.” he boasted.  

My thoughts scrambled to what Cassian had said earlier…”They don’t have you that well guarded.”

“Restrain the bastard!” Eris ordered his grip on my arm tightening at the command. 

“No!” I screamed lurching for Cassian but Eris hauled me back to him. 

The soldiers were on him in an instant all of them falling like dominos before The Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian’s eyes blazed with a fury by the likes of which I had never seen before, he wasn’t a general protecting his princess. He was a male protecting his mate. 

Eris’ body tensed behind mine as soldier after soldier fell. In an act of desperation I felt him unsheathe the dagger at his thigh, pressing the blade to my throat. 

“Oh general,” Eris sang. 

It was enough to catch Cassian’s attention for a split second, his eyes widening as he saw the position I was in. A  rogue soldier used the small window of time to pull his dagger and stab it through Cassian’s side. 

“NO!” I screamed as Cassian hissed, his knees hitting the floor. Immediately the rest of the soldiers were on him, restraining him and binding his wings. His siphons tried to come to light but sputtered out.

“Bloodbane,” Eris smiles, lowering the dagger from my throat. “Stings like a bitch doesn’t it?” 

“Eris please, don’t do this. He’s my mate, I didn’t know until now and-” 

“I would choose your next words very carefully, pet,” he cuts me off. “Right now your ‘mate’ has been stabbed with a dagger laced in bloodbane, which means that even if your dear brother did know he was here he couldn't communicate with him. As for Rhysand, he now sits in a wedding chapel completely unaware and unarmed with a bloodbane arrow aimed for his fucking throat. And last time I checked the only asset you had was a magic cunt.” 

Cassain growled from the other side of the room at Eris’ vulgar words. My eyes flitted to where he was pulling against the restraints. 

“However, I consider myself a merciful ruler,” Eris taunted, grabbing my face to meet his stare. “I’ll give you a choice. You either walk down that aisle, be a good little wife, and pop out a couple of heirs as promised, or you call off the wedding and I’ll gut your precious general where he kneels.” 

“y/n, no!” Cassian gritted through bared teeth. 

I watched my mate struggle to break free, the bloodbane in his system beginning to take over. I looked to Eris who stared at me with hungry eyes. I tried to think of some way out of this, but Eris was right. We had fallen right into this trap, and my hands were tied.

My gaze met Cassian who could read my face like a book, “I’m sorry Cassian, but I once told you that I could never live with myself if something happened to you and I had the power to stop it.” I turn to face Eris and his shit eating grin. “If you promise not to hurt him, or my brother, I will go with you.” 

“You will submit to me fully?” Eris asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I nod, my mind flashing back to when Rhys was in the same position. 

Eris steps closer to me, tilting my head up in an act of dominance, his mouth too close to mine for comfort. I could hear Cassian’s grunts as he continued to try and break free. 

“And you’ll warm my cock whenever I please?” he muses, clearly loving the control he has over me. 

“Yes,” I grit. 

He smiled triumphantly, releasing my chin as he turned to his guards, “Take him away and lock him in the dungeons.” 

“You said-”

“When you walk down that aisle and say ‘I do’ then I shall send him back to the Night Court, Jewel of Prythian. I won’t be taking any chances.” Eris growls in my face before turning to Cassian who had now been brought to his feet. “If I ever see you in my court, or anywhere near my wife again Prince of Bastards, I will make sure that she pays the price.” 

“You fucking bastard!” Cassian roars, body nearly limp from the bloodbane as he’s hauled off by the guards. 

“Wait, let me say goodbye!” I cry running to him, but I’m yanked back by my arm so roughly it nearly pops out of its socket.

“Your obedience begins now!” Eris grits but I pay him no mind thrashing about in his grasp trying to touch my mate once last time as he disappears behind the oak doors. 

“Cassian!” I scream for him, tears waterfalling over my eyes.

“y/n!” he shouts back. 

But it’s too late. The doors close with a definite slam and I’m left weeping in Eris’ grasp as I hear the sounds of Cassian struggling down the hall. 

Cassian’s pov: 

Eris was right, the bloodbane hurt like a bitch. Even an hour later as I sat on the cold, wet floor of the Autumn Court cell, the toxin still made me feel lethargic. As if I had taken the world's strongest sleeping tonic. 

The worst part of it all was that I could hear everything. The organ playing signaling that y/n was walking down the aisle and the cheers of the people as they finally said their vows. The worst and loudest of them all were the bells. 

They rang with such clarity, and joy. The happy little melody could be heard from everyone in the Autumn Court, announcing that the Eris and y/n were finally wed.  The ringing made me double over with grief, their sound a reminder that I was the only male in Prythian who could not protect his mate. A shame greater than being a bastard, and one I would carry with me until the end of my days. 

Metal on metal screeched from somewhere in the dungeon as a light poured in. The jingling of keys and stomping of boots stopped at the door to my cell and I didn’t even bother to look up. Nothing mattered anymore anyways. 

“Come on ‘Prince of Bastards’, time for you to go back to your own court,” the guard grumbled, like hauling me home was a huge inconvenience to him. 

I rose to my feet and stepped languidly out of the door. The restraints on my wrists and wings  were removed, the skin on my wrists rubbed raw from the blue stone shackles. I was led up the stairs to where the wards ended and was immediately winnowed to the border of the Autumn and Winter Court. The cold blizzards of winter whipping around us and chilling my wings. 

“Prince Eris has asked me to remind you that you are now banished from this court. He also says that should you choose to seek out his wife once more you know what the consequences will be.” the guard relayed. 

Before I could even think about punching the asshole square in his jaw he disappeared into thin air, no doubt going back to his post in the basement of the palace.

I was left with nothing but the sound of my own thoughts, and the feelings of my own guilt as I flew home towards the House of Wind where I knew Azriel was waiting. The flight was the longest one I had ever been on, as normally I took this route with y/n in my arms.

 I had never been so happy to touch down on solid ground once more. Azriel tentatively walked out onto the balcony, two glasses of whiskey in hand. His shadows told him that something was very wrong. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked, an alarm ringing in his voice. 

The lump in my throat returns as I remember how it all went down.  “The bond snapped for her, and she changed her mind. Eris found us, said he had set the whole thing up. I was stabbed with a bloodbane dagger,” I say, lifting my arm to assess the blood leaking from my side. “He told her that if she didn’t marry him he would gut me and Rhys.” 

The next words teeter on my lips as I feel my eyes brimming with tears. It felt like pieces of me were being ripped out as I finally confessed to my failure. 

“I couldn’t save her,” I choked out, voice cracking halfway through. 

The words being uttered into the world was enough to have my  knees crashing to the ground. The impact radiating through my body to the open wound on my side that still hadn’t healed.  I was sure that Azriel had said something as I heard the glasses of whiskey clatter to the ground. But the roaring in my ears was so loud, so unbearable, that the only thing that assured me he was still there was the arm he slung around my back as he knelt next to me.  

y/n’s pov:

The wedding was uneventful and to be honest the only part of it I remembered was when the priestess said, “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” 

The silence that had fallen upon the crowd was so deafening I nearly shuddered. I was stupid to hope that he would come charging in like some fairytale I had read as a child.  The smug look on Eris' face as the priestess continued with the nuptials made my blood go cold. 

The reception was even worse. I had spent the entire time sipping wine with a bland expression on my face. It seemed as though Eris’ new favorite word was ‘wife’ considering he found a way to use it in every sentence.  While most would think it a term of endearment I knew it was just to show his ownership.

“Prince Eris, congratulations on stealing ‘The Jewel’ from us all,” a voice said, cutting across the sea of chatter. I looked up from my lap to find the High Lord of Spring, standing before our table. 

“Thank you Tamlin, she is quite the prize,” Eris crooned, placing a kiss to the back of my hand. 

“That she is,” Tamlin nodded, his eyes raking me from head to toe. “Almost makes me regret crossing her brother, I would’ve liked to have been in the race for her hand.” 

“All in the past now,” Eris smiles, kissing the palm of my hand.  “Right wife?” 

“Right,” I nod to him before turning to Tamlin. “High Lord, where is the Cursebreaker tonight? I would’ve liked to make my acquaintance.” I ask secretly hoping that my brother might catch a glimpse of his mate tonight. 

“Feyre is,” he averts his gaze from mine as if trying to decide what to say. “She is safe at home. Busily planning for the wedding.” 

“The wedding?” I inquired further, wondering if Rhys knew.

“Yes we are to be wed soon,” Tamlin beamed with pride. “I’m sure we will see you both present?” 

“Of course Tamlin, of course,” Eris assured the High Lord of Spring. 

Surely if Feyre was getting married to Tamlin my brother knew. I hoped I would get the chance to tell him. The last thing our court, well I suppose his court now, needed was another separation of mates. 

The rest of the night passed on quite slowly. At one point I was able to feel the bond between Cassian and I. It was faint, but it was there, and I almost swore that I felt him tug on it at one point. It wasn’t until people started making their excuses to go home that Eris finally said the words I had been dreading. 

“Shall we go to bed, wife?” he mused his lips brushing the shell of my ear. 

“After I say goodbye to my brother,” I nod standing up to find Rhys, wherever he was. 

“You’ll see your brother soon enough, my pet. For now let us retire to our chambers,” he growled, grasping my arm and winnowing away to what I assumed was his room.

He watched intently from behind me as I took in my surroundings. 

The bed was large, draped in furs and crisp white sheets. Wood paneling surrounded the four walls, giving the place an ornate look. The fireplace was a glow, casting a warm light upon the room. If it had been anyone else’s room it would’ve been cozy, maybe even romantic. 

The air filled with tension as I waited for Eris to do something, or say something, as I refused to turn and meet his gaze. The only sound heard was the crackling of the fire. 

“I’ve waited for this moment for quite a long time,” Eris mused from where I knew he was leaning against the door. 

“You’ve made that abundantly clear throughout our courtship,” I say straight, unable to meet his predatory stare.  

“How should I have acted when you are so tempting? So innocent, so pure, and now so completely mine,” he purred and I could hear his feet shuffle as he pushed off the wall. “And now that you’ve promised me your submission? Well,” he chuckled. “I’m going to have a great deal of fun with you.” 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew what was coming and I knew he wouldn’t be gentle and loving like Cassian. I knew that once again my hands were tied.  

“Tell me you belong to me,” Eris uttered, taking a step closer to where I stood rigid. 

I sucked down the lump in my throat, “I belong to you,” I whispered.

“Tell me you want me to touch you,” he went on, taking another step forward, his presence looming. 

“I-I want you to touch me,” I repeated back, a tear slipping down my cheek.

Eris hummed in approval behind me. He took one, two more steps until I felt his warmth at my back. Finger tips danced up and down the backs of my arms causing my breath to lurch in fear. His breath was hot on my neck as his presence sucked out every bit of air from the room. 

“Tell me you love me,” he purred. 

My heart stopped cold. There were many things I would have to do or say to please Eris in the millennium that I would be tied to him. But these three words? He would never hear them from my lips. Maybe towards our children, but never to him. 

“You know it wouldn't be true,” I whisper, feeling the tension radiating from his body. 

His hands grip my hips like a brand, ripping my body around until I am face to face with his seething eyes. 

“Then I will make it fucking true!” he growls hauling my mouth to his. 

Eris had kissed me a thousand times before, not one of those times did I ever enjoy the experience. But this time? This had to be the worst. All of it felt so wrong.  Knowing I had a mate. Knowing he was somewhere in this world right now. It made me sick. It was rough, all teeth and tongues. He didn’t want to kiss me, he wanted to devour me.  

“Say it!” Eris demanded, breaking apart our so-called kiss.

“I will love your hounds and your mother, I may love your brothers and one day our children, but I will never love you, Eris Vanserra,” I seethed, unable to take much more. 

I expected him to growl, or curse or hit me. I expected a thorough lashing for what I had said, but he didn’t even so much as flinch. What scared me more? His mouth curled up in a smirk. 

“You forget that you are also a Vanserra now and speaking of heirs, I think it’s time I put one in you right now,” he mused and my stomach bottomed out. “What do you say ‘Jewel of Prythian’ think I can get you knocked up on the first try?” he smiled, backing me to his bed.

There were no words for the terror I felt. No handbook to prepare me for what came next. All I could do was shut down every emotion I had and do my best to become a ghost. A shell of myself. 

No matter how hard I tried, it didn’t subdue the pain. 

Azriel’s pov: 

I thought that getting Cass drunk might help distract him from the feelings floating down the bond tonight, but boy was I fucking wrong. 

I had seen my brother lose soldiers and whole infantries. Had seen him lose his first love, the valkyrie, Tanwyn. I was there the day Rhys and y/n went under the mountain and we thought we lost them for good. 

None of that compared to the screams of agony that emanated from the male before me. 

“He’s fucking hurting her!” Cassian bemoaned, gripping the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. 

It didn’t take much to figure out that he could feel everything y/n was feeling through the bond. And at this late hour? It wasn’t hard to guess what Eris was doing to her, and Cassian had to feel every moment of it down the bond.

“Shh calm down Cass you have to try and block her out,” I pleaded with him, gripping his hand in mine. 

His eyes were glassed over, his hair tangled from him nearly ripping it out at the roots. He had been like this for well over an hour now, and I almost wished the whiskey would do its job and make him fall asleep simply so he would be unconscious. 

“I can’t Az I’ve tried,” he yells at me, nearly slumping to the side from where he sat on the floor leaning against the wall. 

Earlier Rhys had spoken into my mind and asked if everything was alright. I had lied of course, telling him everything was fine, not wanting to insert myself in my brother and the princess’ business. Now I wished I had told him to come if only for him to break into Cass’ head and make him sleep. Watching him feel everything his mate was feeling while she was being… well there weren’t words for it. 

“Breathe Cass, breathe,” I soothed, trying to get him to catch his breath long enough to breathe in and out fully. 

“I-I can’t,” he cried. “My mate.” 

His voice resonated with hopelessness and brokenness, reminiscent of the tragedies depicted in literature. This situation felt nothing short of hellish. For centuries, I longed for a mate—a bond that every fae yearned for. But witnessing how it tormented Rhysand, and observing its impact on Cassian, made me question if I truly desired a mate. In my 500 years of life, I had never seen a male stripped down to his core as profoundly as this.

y/n’s pov:

The next morning I woke up late in the day, the atrocities of last night lasting well into the early hours of the morning. It took me a moment to get my bearings. I wasn’t in the House of Wind, I was in Eris’ room. It wasn’t Cassian’s arms around me in a possessive grasp, it was Eris’.

I slowed my heartrate down enough to assess the room around me. Behind me, Eris was fast asleep, which meant I had a few moments to collect myself before he woke. I looked around the room for a second space and found a door ajar that appeared to lead to a bathroom. I saw my opportunity and took it, carefully wiggling out of Eris’ grasp. 

My body ached all over, especially between my legs, but I pushed through until I stood from the bed. I tiptoed over to the bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible.  Thankfully there were two robes hung on the door. The one for Eris made up of thick cotton, and the one for me made of a cream colored silk. 

I reached for the silk robe and slipped it over my bare body, noting every large bruise and handprint that littered my skin. A problem for a later time, I told myself. 

I must’ve spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom collecting myself. Constantly repeating my new found mantra. 

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I spent so long taking deep breaths that I thought I was prepared for whatever came next. But the second I opened the door and saw Eris standing, staring down at the white sheets of the bed expectantly I knew I was sorely mistaken.

“You didn’t bleed,” Eris stated, tossing the bedsheets aside, stalking towards me. 

“What do you mean?” I replied feigning innocence like I didn’t know what he meant. 

My heart began to beat out of my chest as Eris stalked closer and closer to me. How could I have been so stupid? To overlook the one thing that meant the most to him in this entire facade.  

“Virgins are supposed to bleed the first time they are taken by a male, yet you didn’t,” he growled, stepping into my bubble as my back hit the wall. Never in my life had I felt so small.  “Which means you weren’t pure when you married me, or when you came to my bed.” 

Every nerve in my body froze over as I watched him put together the pieces. There was no telling what happened next, and the only thing I could do was beg for mercy from whatever plans Eris had for a soiled female. 

“Eris I-” 

“Did you let that Illyrian bastard deflower you?” he gritted out, a rough hand came to grip my  throat, slamming my head against the wall. 

Tears pricked my eyes. Even if I had wanted to answer, the hand on my neck wouldn’t allow me. I could only shake in terror and anticipation of what would become of me. 

“You useless, pathetic fucking whore.” he gritted, hand squeezing tighter with every insult. “Our marriage is now null and void by the traditions of my court, which means you no longer have the protection of being called my wife.” 

His hand releases my throat and I have mere seconds to suck down a breath before a harsh slap falls across my cheek, knocking the air from my lungs once again. The next thing I know I’m kneeling on the floor, clutching my face. Eris reaches out a hand to yank me up by my hair. 

“Let me show you what we do to ran through sluts in my court,” Eris spits in my face. 

His hand doesn’t relinquish its grip from my hair. Instead it begins to drag me out of the room and down the hall. My scalp is burning from the tug on my hair. He takes a back corridor reserved for servants and my bare knees bump, slice and break on the rough stone stairs leading down to wherever he’s taking me.

My hands try to find purchase on the walls around me so that I can ground myself and fight back but it’s impossible. 

“ERIS PLEASE!” I scream, but my pleas fall on deaf ears. 

We reach a basement room that drops in temperature and he finally releases me. I try to catch my breath as I watch him scribble something on a piece of paper, picking up a hammer and nail. I instantly go to cower in a corner as he walks towards me. The autumn prince pulls me out of my fetal position by my  ankles pinning me to the ground beneath his weight. 

“In case I did get you pregnant on the first try,” he seethes before I feel a sharp pain to my lower abdomen. 

I don’t look down, I can’t look down. Afraid of what I might see there when I do. My eyes roll to the back of my head as Eris grasps my arm and a cloud of darkness washes over us. 

When the shadow withdraws my bare skin is whipped and flayed by blistering cold winds. The ground beneath me is soft, but ice cold. I open my eyes long enough to see white as far as the eye can see. 

The Winter Court. 

“And just  in case you get any ideas about utilizing that so-called mating bond,” Eris speaks again before another sharp sting plunges into my side. 

White hot pain spreads from the intrusion and spreads like acid moving through my veins. I feel like the blood beneath my skin is on fire, and I almost wish it was in order to combat the blizzard around me. Only one thing could disable me like this, bloodbane. The very same used on Cassian.

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, ‘Jewel of Prythian’. I hope that bastard general was worth your life and your court. Because when Hybern comes to call it won’t be Autumn Court armies that come to your aid.” Eris says, the disgust in his voice evident. 

I can’t speak, can’t even think about anything but the agony I feel. The throb from my lower abdomen and from my side. The bite of the wind and snow on my bare skin. I can barely register the cloud of darkness as Eris winnows himself away, leaving me with nothing but a silk robe for warmth. 

I reached down with a cold hand to rip the dagger from my side. I hoped if I could stop the bloodbane from spreading that I might be able to use the bond to call Cassian. The second I discard the dagger blood stains the white snow surrounding me, and I realize my mistake. My hand grasps at the open wound, attempting to apply pressure. As I sat there, bleeding and freezing to death I thought of one thing. 

It was all for nothing.

All the pain, all the suffering. Hurting Cassian, hurting myself. It had all been for nothing. I was dying and alone, fingers and toes already losing feeling and I still had no army for my people. Cassian nowhere in sight to save my body and my soul. And I would die here knowing that it was all for nothing. 

Because time was of the essence, and no one was coming.

Part 10

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @mybestfriendmademe, @anxious-study, @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams ,  @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 

Been having some trouble with tagging so if you get the notif twice I'm so sorry

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Living Dead

Summary: Before meeting the Emperor, Mortarion meets a girl who might love him. At least that's what he thinks.

Mortarion/fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Dark romance, gore/rot (a little bit), obssession, yandere.

Guys, it's all your fault. I wasn't a Mortarion fan before your fics.

Every day Barbarus defended their freedom. People were no longer afraid. They fought for lives against rotten tyrants. And every day Mortarion was getting closer to his goal. He led all these people with him. But he never felt at home. Didn't find a family. But at least he was “among his own”, and not locked with monsters in a poisonous stronghold.

The poison was a weapon, but also a reminder of the monsters' strenght. He used his power, but he hated it. His whole appearance resembled death. No wonder people avoided him even if he is a reason why they finally fight back. And then he met you.

You lived in one of the distant villages, which was often attacked by tyrants. On one of these days, your spouse was taken away for a play. And although he was able to escape, as Сalas Typhon had once done, he was unable to cope with the top layer of Barbarus. His skin was healing, he smelled of death, and poison oozed from open, rotten wounds. Living Dead.

But you continued to live with him. You accepted him as such a disgusting thing. You loved him.

Mortarion still could not understand how this was possible. He saw how hard it was for you, how often you hid from his eyes to cry out all the tears. How do you stop yourself from gagging at the smell? But you were still with him. You could, no, should have, renounced him. Continue to live and move on.

Nobody understood you. All the villagers said you were crazy. Mortarion's warriors pitied you, but thought you were too naive. As for Сalas, he looked after you for a long time. He said that you remind him of someone and that you're a good girl.

It's true, you were kind. Even too much. And Mortarion himself did not understand how he felt envy of the living corpse. "Father" did not love Mortarion, he did not care about him. His warriors may have respected him, but they were never equals.

And one day he began to wonder more and more often… will you also stroke his hair… hug him tenderly… wash his wounds and help him bathe… will you smile at him as if he is the most beautiful person you have ever seen. Will you kiss him like you kissed your husband?

Such strange thoughts. Insignificant, unimportant, vulgar. Completely out of character for him. Why is it important for him to know what you think about him? What could you do with him? Does he really need to feel affection that badly? To feel not just needed, but loved. He leads thousands of lives. But why does his heart beat so hard when he sees your gaze?

Alas, you are not a witch. The problem is not you. There's something wrong with him. You don't even belong to him. And all your attention is focused on your dying husband. But he won’t even be able to protect you when the lords come to your village. But Mortarion can. He is your true savior.

But everything goes away sooner or later. All the villagers only breathed a sigh of relief when your husband left this world. But not you. You're desperate. You're broken. All alone. There is no one else to give your goods to.

Mortarion himself didn’t notice how he put his hand on your shoulder. And he is so ashamed but so happy to see your haunted tearful gaze. You looked at your husband in the same way before enveloped him in your love.

- No need for tears. I'll take care of you.

He will.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Natlan Archon Quest 5.1 Thoughts and Theories

Compared to the last archon quest, this was a major step up for me in all aspects. There was a sense of grandness to it all, especially with the music and animation. Also, I'm so weak for Capitano you guys. His voice 😍🥵 alright I'll stop. But my Capitano agenda is far from over.

Spoilers below

Boy oh boy did I enjoy seeing everyone rally together to fight the Abyss. And the Abyss I felt was a pretty legitimate threat. (side note: i'm glad they didn't make us wait for the next patch to see the actual battle). The map was consumed by Abyssal power, reminding me of that one Enkanomiya event. And people died. You'd get to sites with people and everyone would be gone. It was lowkey chilling and Genshin really has stepped up in terms of how dark it wants the story to be. Chasca's sister, Chuychu, didn't make it. Their final words to each other were really heartfelt and it was sad to watch them say goodbye.

On a much lighter note, the cutscenes of Mavuika and the six heroes using their powers was soooo freaking cool, especially with the music. Side note, I'm glad they didn't shove the Traveler in as the final hero since this wasn't their fight technically. I loved seeing Mavuika use all her abilities and create that giant starburst thing in the sky to fight the Abyss. It gave me major Endgame vibes ngl. I was having a blast. This quest also made me really love Mavuika. She cares so deeply about her people and home that she'd sacrifice herself to save it all. It's a heavy price, but she's willing to pay it. Aside from Mavuika's selfless nature, she also looked epic when she fought the Abyss in the sky.

The new characters in general I really enjoyed, especially Ororon. I do like his design and I love how his voice tone changes from serious to almost childish when talking to Citlali. And his lore is really fascinating since he has an incomplete soul. Citlali gives me major Faruzan energy, but she has a beautiful design and she's pretty relatable imo with her awkwardness. I liked her a lot. Xilonen had a lot of charisma imo. Although I haven't figured out how to use her on the field during her playable segments.

And Capitano. My gosh did this man become very interesting. Not only is he Khaenri'ahn, but apparently his face is rotting from living for so long AND he knows Dain. He's a lot more tragic than I initially expected, having lost everything and everyone to the cataclysm. And out of all the Harbingers, alongside Childe (maybe Arlecchino with the HoH), he's definitely one of the more altruistic ones. His methods were extreme, but at the end of the day, he wanted to save Natlan, having lost so much already. Capitano was willing to put aside his own pride with his plan and listen to Mavuika's, helping her and the others defend their home. He even gave her all his soldiers to have for reinforcements. He's not driven by evil the way Dottore is or is vengeful to a destructive degree like Scaramouche. He's honorable and driven by the pain of his past. Vengeance too probably, but he didn't wipe Natlan clean to save it.

The lore was also fascinating. To talk to the Lord of the Night was really cool and I loved getting to know more about Teyvat as a whole. Btw, the "sky is fake" claim is finally proven true.

Overall, I was very satisfied with this Archon quest and could honestly watch a whole show on Natlan trying to fend off the Abyss. It reminds me of the Long Night but significantly better executed on almost all fronts (music still slapped).

Going forward, I definitely think we will see Mavuika die but either it won't be in the typical way or she will return in another form like Furina. Given how she's playable, Hoyo will find the loophole. But yeah, Mavuika will have to pay a heavy price. And it appears Capitano will as well. He still has his "final foe" to face and Ronova apparently sent him on his journey. Of course, the price for messing with death your own life, which Mavuika will have to pay. It seems like whatever Capitano is asking of the Lord of Night also will either lead to his own demise or some sort of demise. Either way, both characters are going to be facing a heavy price. I'm really excited to see the final face off with the Abyss and what will become of both Capitano and Mavuika.

The sky being fake caught my eye specifically because the edges of the hole and the void are reminiscent of the power used by the unknown god in the beginning of the game. Could the unknown god reside out in that void? Did she have a hand in creating Teyvat? Is Teyvat even a "real" world or is it something else entirely? So many questions. I look forward to getting answers and I love the small detail of the hole being covered by smoke. it would cause mass hysteria if one moment, you were fighting for your very home and then another bombshell about the sky being fake is thrown at you.

My only major nitpick is that the Natlan archon quest is almost beat for beat Fontaine's with some exceptions of course.

You got:

big existential, life threatening event that has been steadily building up for years and years

a Fatui harbinger who offers aid because they got their own stakes in this (said Harbinger is also Khaenri'ahn)

the archon has to die because they used powers that are kinda taboo

there are minor incidents prior to the actual existential event

said event has been known about by the archon for hundreds of years and preparations have been made

the day is saved by the archon (or dragon) flying up into the sky and using their awesome power to save everyone

supporting characters die protecting others (Silver and Melus you were the real ones)

The archon quest is still fantastic, but the overall formula was very similar. (it was also weird to not hear Kinich or Kachina but I get the reason).

Anyways, what did you guys think and are you excited for the next chapter???

[thefirstknife]

You are so incredibly knowledgeable about this games lore and I feel like I am going crazy trying to find the answer to this. Maybe you know? Has there ever been an actual answer to why Osiris was so much more powerful than the rest and why he got the visions? Why was he the travelers favourite?

Honestly nobody really knows! Some Guardians just happen to be a lot more powerful and a lot of it definitely has to do with the personal choice to improve; as in, becoming a student and actively learning! Osiris chose to study with the Iron Lords. I'd also assume a Ghost has influence as well: Sagira too was very powerful.

Some of it might also have a lot to do with the amount of time he spent perfecting his skills. With the time dilation of the Infinite Forest, Osiris has lived an unfathomably long life and therefore had more time than most to get better.

Curiously though, he was already high above other Guardians even early on in his life. By early Dark Age, before studying with anyone, he was already using Dawnblade as we know it today. I'm personally of the opinion that he may have invented this in the first place, as the Dawnblade sword is fairly similar to his aesthetics and he used it so early.

Also way before the Infinite Forest, he was famous for the way he fought at Six Fronts; with his reflections. He was able to produce golden copies of himself that enabled him to watch every front in the battle. He was also able to teleport between them to quickly change his position and help on multiple fronts. This is an insane level of skill comparatively with other Guardians at the time. We still have no idea where and how he learned to do this. Or how it's done. There's also still unknown situation with this ability because at one point he specified a difference between "reflections" and "echoes," implying they're two different things:

[u.2:12] Reflections, Saint. I have no need for Echoes anymore. [u.1:13] What do you mean? What’s the difference? [u.2:13] One is a manifestation of Light. The other… reserved for Taken Kings. Better suited for traversing the Sundial because of what lies at its core.

Bestie. What does this mean.

As for visions.... Nobody knows. He claims that his visions are just things he analysed using the Infinite Forest, but he made the prophecies before he went to the Forest. He was exiled for them! Some of them also deal with paracausality, in particular the one about the Traveler waking up at the end of the Red War, something that the Forest would not be able to predict. You'd think this is a writing mistake or something, but it's not. This discrepancy is directly referenced in the lore as weird.

Osiris treats this as "it just be like this" but I personally do think that he's the Traveler's specialest little guy. And Sagira was too. However, was he really and why? Ultimately we don't know.

[lovedreamer11]

About how Rhaenyra remained recorded in historical chronicles as a princess after her death

How else? This is Westeros, guys. A patriarchal and at times misogynistic society in which a woman's purpose is to bear heirs and be submissive to her husband.

Read about how the chronicles write about women who differed from the norm of the Seven Kingdoms and Essos.

Rhaenys and Visenya. Both were queens, both fought in battle, both sat on the Iron Throne and ruled in Aegon's absence. Visenya wounded Aegon with her sword. How many women in Westeros could, in the presence of witnesses, draw a sword from its scabbard, attack their husband and challenge his opinion? And that's how it all ended. Rumors were spread about Rhaenys that she allegedly cheated on her husband, and her only son was a bastard. Visenya was allegedly a dark witch and was involved in the death of her husband.

During the reign of Meria Martell, Dorne did not fall to the dragons. Yes, Dorne turned into a desert during the war with the Targaryens, but centuries later, the Dornish are proud of their origins, proud that they remained rebellious, proud that their ancestors were able to kill one of the Conquerors' dragons. But nevertheless, in historical chronicles they write about Meria as a liar and a coward, and her enemies spread rumors that the princess had intercourse with a stallion.

As a teenager, Rhaena Targaryen was not as outgoing and charming as her sister Alysanne. She loved to fly on a dragon wherever she wanted, and did not hide her affection for her ladies-in-waiting. While on tour with her parents and brothers, Rhaena didn't want to waste her time cozying up to a horde of strange lords. As a result, she was not popular and people began to spread rumors that the princess had lost her virginity to a commoner, which was not true.

Daenerys began to conquer Essos and abolish slavery, and remember how many vile lies people told Quentyn Martell about her.

And Rhaenyra? She was to be the first woman to be a full queen rather than a consort. They began to slander her from the very moment it became clear that Viserys would not make Aegon his heir.

Alicent began to spread rumors about twelve or thirteen year old Rhaenyra's affair with Criston, and she also disputed the parentage of Rhaenyra's eldest sons, and her green supporters eagerly supported her. Eustace constantly talked about how Rhaenyra had become a fat ugly creature that no one wanted, and she, dressed in armor, was allegedly cut by the Iron Throne. Mushroom shared his depraved fantasies about Rhaenyra with those around him. Have you noticed that when Mushroom said something unpleasant about Aegon the Usurper, people remind him that Mushroom was a court jester and you shouldn’t believe everything he said, but nevertheless all his stories about Rhaenyra were supposedly “the pure truth” .

If you want to know my point of view, Aegon the Usurper could live a long life, eat babies, turn the castle into a brothel, sacrifice virgins, but people would still remember him as a king because he was a man. I'm sure that even if Rhaenyra had come to the throne peacefully and her reign had been successful, there would still be people arguing that Rhaenyra should not have been queen and that she stole the throne from her younger brother.

[crescynnt]

Some thoughts about the hollow heads

Why are all of the hollow heads hostile when they first appear? Other than the obvious answer (Alan thought this was just going to be a short one-off animation and a stick figure fight scene would be cool), their names likely attribute to it.

When Victim first appeared, he acted like a victim. He was trapped in a box and was toyed with by Alan. He only fought back in retaliation (something that he's still doing to this day- man, talk about a long grudge).

The Chosen One is weird. His name implies that he's heroic, but the only thing you really see heroic about him is his powers (from the start). But AvA1-4 is seen mostly though Alan's perspective. The Chosen One is seen as the antagonist because that's how the story is presented. But from Chosen's perspective...

...Alan is this god-like being creating them just to toy with them. He may not know what happened with Victim, but his sense of heroism, being the Chosen of the sticks, tells him to fight against this monster.

The Dark Lord is the first stick to be passive when he is created, with his first shots being of him stretching. This is because his name, The Dark Lord, implies that he's evil... and therefore on Alan's side. He was named to be aligned with his creator, so he has no reason to antagonize Alan from the get-go.

At the end of AvA3, we see Dark and Chosen team up. It shows that while they have their names, that is their starting point. Like how a human is born as a blank slate, the sticks are born with their names as the only thing on their slates. They are allowed to choose what to do after they're born. Chosen, being, well, The Chosen One, went against his name to become a terrorist and Dark went against his code to befriend his enemy. But the inherit personalities their names give them still affect their actions.

It's a nature vs. nurture problem, where their nature is defined by their name. In the Showdown, you see that Dark is using his "nature" of being the Dark Lord to carry out his conquest. Unlike Chosen, who is intrinsically a "good guy" and saw the fault in his ways before he went too far, Dark just doesn't have that moral code. He could probably learn it, later on, like when he learned to trust Chosen, but Chosen just... expected him to understand. (Chosen, you gotta talk to your friend!!)

Victim also follows a similar development. After the events of AvA1, he's still maintained that "victim" mindset. Even though he's more powerful now (but only in the box) to the point where he can actually hurt Chosen, he's taken his status as a victim in the past to justify his hatred against Alan.

And The Second Coming, being the only stick figure that was drawn but not named by Alan, his name means that he's the next Chosen One. He was only hostile towards Alan once his friends were deleted, showing the not-so-complete transfer of power between the two. He's still a kid, through and through, and while Chosen is still alive, there's no reason for him to fully take on Chosen's role (not that he's much of a role model anyway). He's the backup force, the kid who can live his life with his friends, until he's needed as the Second Coming (i. e. when Chosen was defeated by the Virabots).

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Play Nice | Cyberverse Dead End x f!robot | Dub-Con | NSFW 18+

Word count: 2900+

Warnings: Dub-con, smut ( touching, fingering, first time, spike in valve and rough interfacing ), piercings, angst and au where decepticons win. NSFW 18+.

Notes: I really wanted to write someone from Cyberverse, and I have a weird obsession with this guy. I wrote him being such a jerk and controlling as he messes around with an autobot, so just a heads up that this is again dub-con. Eat at it! 🥰

☕ Coffee

The end of the war resulted in the autobots surrendering to the decepticons, not the way they expected it to go, yet it happened. Now they were prisoners of war, spoils, the strongest sent off to the mines to work while the weaker looking ones were sent to the sale yard and sold off to the highest bidder. That was the autobots fate, no choice given, and there was nothing they could do about it.

You were a femme, not built for war, simply a desk clerk, so it was no surprise to you that you ended up in the sales. Looking around yourself you notice most either fought against their retrants, some putting on a brave face and accepting their fate, while you on the other hand, you were utterly petrified, and you failed to hide this from anyone.

Warm lubricants continually stream down your cheek platings while your frame quivers uncontrollably, anxious whimpers sounding from your lips while you keep your helm bowed low the entire time. The decepticons in charge of the sales relish your fear, taunt you, even touch you, but they didn't force themselves on you, because you were one of the few with your seals still intact, and that was apparently a high demand through the sales. According to them, you were worth a lot. Not that it made you feel any better in the slightest, quite the opposite, it only made you feel degraded and ailing.

No help was coming for you, that's the reality.

Once shoved out onto the platform the bids were placed, the number climbing higher by the second while you stood there trying to tuck yourself into the smallest ball possible in your standing position. It's horrible, you want to escape, and you day dream in that moment that an autobot will swing in and save you, taking you away from the abhorrent nightmare.

Then it happens, the final bid is placed, and it's over. You've been sold.

Your cuffed servos are grabbed and you're tugged forward, optics meeting pedes before your chin is gripped between firm digits and you're forced to look up at the winning bidder. Piercing white optics bore down into your meek baby blue optics, looking rather pleased with his purchase holding a stretched smirk.

"You're mine, autobot." There's something about his voice that sends crawling shivers through your frame, on top of that there is no hint of kindness, and this makes your spark chamber clench tightly against your pulsing spark.

Most of it was a blur before you found yourself pulled into what you assume was where he lived. Very luxurious, fine dark decor, pointing out that he had high ranking, not that made you feel any better. He just purchased you, like property, and called you his.

"Relax, autobot." That rusty yet silky voice hits your audios. "If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have spent a ridiculous amount on you. How you behave is up to you."

He comes back over and disables your cuffs. Finally, you're able to rub your sore wrists and not feel so tied down. You willingly meet his gaze and he still has that smug grin on him. He looked pretty damn proud indeed.

"The names Dead End. I'm one of Lord Megatron's favourite soldiers, so you should be very grateful with the life you'll have, but that all depends on you, if you're going to be a good femme and play nice, or to be a brat and give me a nagging headache. So, what will it be?"

The fight in you is gone, if it was ever even there before, you just don't have the strength or bravery to fight him. That would be stupid anyway.

"I'll be good." You barely manage to speak, but he hears it.

"Smart femme. Now, let's have a close look."

He grabs your servo and pulls you towards him, causing you to lift your other and hold it against his chassis while a frightened squeak left you. He lets out a light chuckle that vibrates against you and you bow your helm submissively. Weak and pathetic , that's all you are.

You bite back a whimper when you feel his servos dragging down across your waist and behind over your aft, digits gripping into your soft armour causing a soft creak to sound from the contact. He was mapping you out, feeling your frame, touching what was rightfully his now. His curious servos continue to roam, up and down over again, a long sickening dread flooding through your tanks.

"Stop." You barely whisper, voice meek and frightened. "Please."

"I don't think that's you showing me good behaviour. I didn't buy you so you can boss me around." He narrows his optics at you, boring deeply, making you cower under his dominating shadow.

"I'm just scared." Your spark was hammering rapidly against your chamber, as was your processor swirling wildly.

"I already said I'm not going to hurt you, so you shouldn't be so scared. Interfacing is fun, and you'll understand why soon. Like I said, you're mine, and we're doing things my way." Dead End continues his touching, admiring your frame and mapping you out, before he tilts your helm up to look at him again. "I hope you weren't lying when you were asked if you were a virgin and said yes. Are you still sealed?" His words dripped with a foulness, yet the air is clean.

"I-I am."

"So I'm not going to discover any unpleasant surprises?" He speaks so crudely, almost pouting a little like you were lying.

"No, no, I'm not lying, I promise." Meek, shuddering, your fear and anxiety corrupting through your entire frame and processor. How did it come to this? Losing the war, sold off like property, and now you're forced to do whatever this decepticon wanted.

His touch against your cheek plating was silky, in a sickening way, and he continued to caress the area with affection, before he took hold of your servo and pulled you towards the berth. The moment of dreaded truth. "Play nice for me, femme. Lay on the berth, spread those thighs, and retract your panel. I'm going to take real good care of you."

You don't want to, but you have no choice, and you let out a shuttered vent before moving towards the berth, a heavy sickening weight corrupting your spark chamber. Once on your back you find yourself staring at the ceiling, servos clenching against the berth covered in silks when you feel his weight crawling closer, his cold shadow looming over you.

Dead End likes the sight of your innocence, a growing hunger roaring through him with pride while he observes his new autobot pet. After everything, he's earned it, a prize to keep, and he was going to do what he liked with you. He'll teach you, have you moaning and begging for him, that was his promise.

Giving a silent prayer for yourself, you then spread your legs, taking a deep vent in and retracting your panel. Your helm turns on its side to avoid looking at him and that aggravating smug smile of his. Accepting this fate was your only option, that didn't mean it was going to be easy.

A startled yelp erupts from you when you feel his servo bluntly between thighs and cupping against your exposed valve. Your instincts kick in as your thighs close and you grab hold of his servo, trying to pry him away. He easily shoves your servo away and pins his weight on you.

"Don't do that."

Then you feel his knee pad pressing up against your valve that creates a surprising moan from you feeling your valve react from the contact. This makes you cover your mouth, optics wide and face heated with embarrassment that such a sound was made. You didn't mean it, or did you? He heard it, very clearly, and he seemed to really like it.

"Does that feel good? I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me. I'll have you making all sorts of sounds soon enough, it'll be fun." Dead End continues to rub his knee up against your valve while watching your reactions, relishing your confused growing desire that bursts from your face, no matter how hard you try to hide it.

Turning your helm to the side, all you can do is let it happen, even though this wasn't something you asked for, you can't deny the new bubbling pleasure pooling around your valve. Your sensitive node pulses, growing thrills rushing through your entire frame, dainty whimpers turning into low moans as you feel the pleasure he was creating in you.

Dead End's knee pad is already soaked with your fluids, and he grins with a happy greed filling him, drinking up your positive response. Leaning closer he tilts your helm to look back at him, before sealing your lips over his for a heated kiss.

Sure, you've been kissed before, but nothing like this. His kiss was hungry, dominant, and you feel his glossa invade between your lips causing you to let out a muffled whimper, before he lays himself between your thighs more snug and starts to grind his heated panel against you while devouring your lips.

He knew what he was doing, and he was bringing out all the forbidden pleasures from you. You hated it, but you also feel yourself liking it much to your scared confusion.

With shaky servos moving onto his shoulders, you start to kiss him back, innocently. He likes your response, letting out his own moan and deepening the kiss. Money well spent he thought to himself.

Your mind starts to blank while kissing him, slowly falling in sync with him and simply forgetting just how you ended up here, before your mind snaps back to reality when you feel his spike, now extended out, rubbing up against your valve. Breaking the kiss you shyly glance between your pressed bodies and let out a skittish whimper at his embellished spike.

Dead End had piercings, two frenum ball bars and a little ring at the tarped tip. He looks down as well with you and lets out a low chuckle. "Like what you see? These babies are going to become your obsession. Only my spike will be able to ever satisfy you."

Is that true? You don't have time to think too much before feeling his servo against your valve again and a digit being pushed in, prepping you. The small invasion causes you to let out a wince, clenching around his digit with dimmed optics. It hurts.

"As much as I do love a tight valve, you're only going to hurt yourself even more if you don't relax. Spread your thighs a little more, and ease your thoughts. I'll take care of you."

Listening, you do as says, trying to allow him to stretch your valve, feeling his digit curling against your inner channel and another slowly rubbing against your node, earning a skittish moan from you.

"That's it, good femme. You're a quick learner." Dead End praised before hooking his other servo under you, lifting your hips and aft up a little and shifting closer, before adding a second digit.

Another wince leaves you, before feeling his lips against your neck, nibbling against your soft cables, enough to distract you from the slight burning ache as he stretches your valve with his digits. He knew how to get you aroused, and that worried you.

Was this the fate of autobots? Sold off to the highest bidder? You knew Megatron was cold, but slavery? Were you a slave or his whore? Was there a difference? The overwhelming questions make you whimper softly, and you've been distracted so much that you didn't realise his digits were gone, only to feel a pressure against your valve.

Dead End decides it's time to claim his prize. He coats his spike with your fluids and starts to nudge your entrance, watching as the tip pushes through, along with the metal piercings. He lets out a gritted moan feeling you clench around him, before meeting resistance and smirks. "Good, you weren't lying."

You're tense, scared, embarrassed, you simply couldn't answer him. It hurts as he continues to press forward, seal slowly tearing, before he nudges through and you cry out, servos gripping tightly at his arms as he continues to push forward until he's fully flushed.

The pain wasn't as terrible as you imagined, but it still stings, and your emotions are running high, confused by the tingling thrill slowly boiling, there's a buzzing arousal slowly flooding through you.

"Nice and snug, perfect." He coos from above while looking rather proud. "Not so bad, hey? I'll have you overloading over again, you won't be able to help yourself."

You feel his ridged spike stretching you fully, pulsing through your channel along with the cold metal piercings. It causes your frame to quivery in ecstasy followed by another low whine, then he starts moving, withdrawing himself and thrusting back in, working himself at a steady pace while letting out his own moans.

Soft gasps leave you after each thrust, feeling his length and the metal piercings rubbing along your inner channel, him grinding down against your node in a luscious way. The pleasure bubbles rather quickly in you, and without even realising you clench your thighs around his rocking waist, drawing him closer as your servos hold onto his supported arms holding himself up.

Those piercings are oddly nice, an added stimulation through your channel that makes you let out light moans, falling into the forbidden pleasure that corrupts you. Something's happening, and you weren't sure what it was, but before you can think more about it your whole frame suddenly erupts with a bursting overload, frame trembling as your silky valve is soaked with sticky fluids as your back arches, followed by a sweet mewl from your vocals. At first you're confused by what just happened, never having felt like that before, and it's Dead End's amused chuckle that catches your attention.

"Already? Slag, knew I was good, but that was something else. Bet you've never had an overload like that before, not even by touching yourself." His words sink in and you're scared again.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" You're cut off by his digit against your quivering lips.

"Relax, you're not in trouble. You'll learn to control your overloads, and you've got a pretty good teacher. But I think you've got a second one in your still." There's no time to answer before he starts moving again, firmly snapping his hips against you that creates loud moans from you and tightly holding onto him.

All control was gone. Instantly, you cling onto him while letting out lingering loud mewls against his neck, unable to hide anything or keep quiet, rejoicing in the blooming pleasure quickly sparking through you even more. To feel such a luxury buzz, tingling from your sensitive valve, it leaves a confusing allure that you can't help but enjoy. You didn't want this or ask for it, yet it happened, and there's a small deep part in you that is glad it happened. Is that wrong?

"Beautiful fragging sight you are, perfect tight valve, singing loudly, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist." Dead End grunts through his smug proudness. "There will be even more pleasure once I give you your own little piercings. You'll be a dazzling sight."

There's no response from you, because you can't. The room fills with the sounds of both your moans, metal slapping together, the added creak of the berth under his rough movements as he grunts harshly with each thrust with your squeaked gasps. You feel it, the second overload about to pop in you, and he senses this before pressing his body more against your smaller body, grinding himself firmly against you over again and letting out growing heated vents. He's not far off either.

Then it happens. His warm fluids fill you, spike pulsing rapidly as his piercings press against your compulsing channel. His movements don't slow as he starts to rub your node with his digit, and that's all that's needed for your to fall through your second overload and clench around him even more tightly than before, a high pitched mewl sounding as you continue to hold onto him, before his movements finally slow into soft jerky thrusts.

Soft moans of pleasure is all that's heard from you, optics hazy and shuttering as your cooling fans kick in to help cool your quivery heated frame. Your thighs and servos still hold onto him, as if he's all there is, you just can't bring yourself to let go of him.

Eventually, he stops, and savours your valve a little more before removing himself, watching as his spike is extracted and leaving your gaping valve with nothing to clench onto. Your juices and his fluids soak between your two and the berth, and he's rather proud of the sight.

"Perfect. Leaking so much, good response from you babe."

Shame fills you. Allowing him to make you feel like this, to give in so easily, it makes you feel even more weak and pathetic. He notices this and caresses your cheek plating, surprisingly tender, affection even.

"You've got nothing to worry about anymore, I promise that babe. In time you'll see I'm not a terrible guy, and this life will grow on you. We're going to have so much fun you and I." Suddenly, his lips are over yours once again, slowly deepening the kiss between you two, and you give in yet again.

Yeah, plenty of fun.

[animatorweirdo]

The Rebirth Of A Wolf (Part 2)

Part 1

You woke up in the forest, naked and covered in blood. You luckily find safety in a home of a kind woman as you have no memories of what had happened. Unfortunately, you soon find out the truth when someone from your past provokes the hidden beast within you.

Warnings: mentions of being naked, covered in blood, anxiety, mentions of dead people, werewolf attacks, awful stepbrother, compelled to break bones, Ronan is like a really shitty guy, violence, covered in blood, mentions of a dead sister and suicide, and killing.

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

Walking through the forest. The ground felt cold and wet under your feet. The crows cawed above your head, flying and watching from the trees as you tried to navigate through the forest, wrapped in a blood-stained cloak you had scavenged from a rotting corpse to cover your naked body. 

Shivering, you stopped to take a look around you, trying to find your way out. You were lost. Besides the dead bodies you had found, you had no idea where you were. 

You had no memories of what had happened. You only remember leaving your home after your family disowned you, the attack, the darkness that followed, and then nothing. It was like your mind was refusing to remember. 

All you know is that something wrong has happened and that you needed to find safety. Fast. 

Your ears picked up sounds in the distance. Feeling hopeful, you quickened your space and followed the sounds. 

Climbing over a hill, you saw a village brimming with hustle and bustle of life. You felt relieved to see people, but you also felt surging anxiety watching the blur of faces go about their lives. It was a feeling you were well annuitant with, but for the sake of getting help and perhaps a change of clothing, you sucked it up and approached the nearest house. 

Surrounded by a battered fence and a poor excuse of a thatched roof was an elderly lady sweeping the porch and humming a song to herself. You cautiously approached her till her eyes fell upon you. 

“Oh my!” She gasped, shocked at your state. 

You froze, uncertain how to respond to her reaction. 

“My dear child. You look like you have been attacked by a bear. Are you hurt?!” she questioned as she rushed to you dropping her mop on the way in the haste to get to you. 

“No…” you slowly shook your head. “But…” you struggled to bring yourself to speak. 

“I am lost,” you quietly uttered.

“Oh…” the older woman looked at you sympathetically. An air of silence fell between you, and for a second you contemplated returning to the forest. Anything to avoid the silence and the awkward staring that this very simple human interaction had brought upon you. 

“Would you like to have a bath and something to eat? You look like you haven’t had a proper meal in a long time,” the woman asked as she began plucking the twigs and leaves sticking out from the mess of your hair. 

“Yes… I would like that,” you nodded, compelled to bear the embarrassing encounter in favor of a warm bath and food. 

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

In Tol-In-Gaurhoth, where the orcs and werewolves thrived under the dark banner. The werewolves howled to the sky while the orcs feasted on their spoils of the hunt. 

In the dens of the fortress, werewolves were resting in their respective spots, some eating what they had been given while some fought to assert dominance over the other. 

There crouched a hunched form belonging to a deformed orc watched them, counting each beast till he came to an empty spot on the list. He looked around, recounting all the werewolves, but could not fill in the empty blank on the list. Fear and panic settled within him. 

Rushing through the rotting marshes and unlit dens, the orc arrived at the throne room, where the lord of the fortress was perched on his throne. His gaze was fixed on reports strewn in his lap, as the orc cautiously approached him, bowing before speaking. 

“My lord…” the orc addressed nervously. 

“What is it? I am preoccupied with cleaning after your pathetic kind, so make it quick,” Sauron said while keeping his eyes on the reports. 

“Yes! My lord! It’s just…” the orc started, nearly stuttering. “One of the werewolves is missing. The recently turned one,” he quickly explained. 

Sauron turned his gaze upon the orc. 

“Was it killed in a hunt?” he asked, his voice eerily cold echoing in the lonesome walls of the fortress. 

“No, no, no… The recent hunts had been successful with no casualties from our side,” the orc explained with a prideful tone. “I took it upon myself to inquire the other werewolves about it. They recount that they do remember seeing the missing werewolf during the hunts, but they did not account for their member’s return to Tol-In-Gauroth before sunrise,” he added. 

“We have no idea where it might have gone off to as it has failed to even respond to the pack’s call,” the orc finished. 

Sauron remained quiet, pondering as he reminisced about the werewolf that was an amalgamation of broken human he personally picked to be turned. His intrigue peaked as he couldn’t help but wonder what might have led to the werewolf’s sudden disappearance. 

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

Freshly clothed, you were seated at the table while ruffling through the helm of your blouse and the dress the old lady, Lena, lent to you after you took a warm bath to get rid of the blood and grease. The clothes were lovely and felt comfortable. It just felt strange for some reason, like you haven’t worn proper clothing for years. 

“How are the clothes, my dear?” Lena asked as she brought bread and butter to the table. Your nose was taken by the aroma the bread emitted. You could tell it was freshly baked, and that in itself was enough to make your mouth water. 

“The clothes feel nice. Thank you, Miss Lena,” you said as you couldn’t help but immediately grab a piece of bread after she put it down on the table. Lena brushed her hand in dismissal. “Just Lena is fine. I’m not one for such formalities,” she said as she sat down and handed you the butter and other ingredients you could add on top of the toast. 

“Thank you…” you said as you began buttering the bread. 

“I do wonder what happened to bring you in such a rough shape,” Lena stated, “Were you attacked?” she glanced at you. 

“Uhm… no,” you replied. “I don’t remember what happened. I only remember leaving home and then… nothing,” you took a bite of the bread, feeling the taste of butter and pork in your mouth. You nearly moaned from the comforting homey taste. 

You then remembered the woman seated in front of you. 

“I… really don’t know what happened. The next thing that happened I woke up in the forest, naked and covered in blood,” you said. “I— did find corpses of men when I was trying to find my way out. They looked like they were killed by some kind of beast,” you explained. 

“A beast? Now that is quite concerning. Well, I am glad you found your way to this village before nightfall,” Lena smiled. “Dangerous creatures are known to roam the woods at night, so it’s only safe to remain in the village,” she added. You hummed in response while eating the food in front of you. 

“Your family must be worried about you,” Lena said as she began making her toast. 

You shook your head. “I don’t think I will be missed. They probably did not even notice my disappearance. We’re not currently on good terms,” you took a sip of the water, feeling the liquid quench the dryness in your throat. 

“Oh. That is a pity,” Lena said as she took a bite out of her bread. You glanced at her waiting for her to continue the conversation. 

“Well! I do not know how else can I be of help to you. But!” She said enthusiastically, making you look at her, eager to hear what got her so happy. “You may stay here if you have nowhere else to go,” she declared with expectant eyes. 

“Really?” You asked, feeling a surge of joy within you. 

“Of course! I do not mind some company. It would be rather cruel of me just to throw you out, especially when you experienced something so terrible,” she smiled. 

You stared at your toast for a moment, feeling something jumping in joy within your soul. It was like a happy puppy was wagging its tail inside you. It was an odd but pleasant feeling, making you want to jump out of your seat and hug the woman in front of you. Dear gods, when was the last time someone treated you with such kindness? 

“Thank you, Lena. You are very kind,” you uttered with a hidden smile. 

Lena smiled as you two enjoyed the meal. You felt happy for the first time in years, but in your moment of found peace and joy, you were unaware of the things that were to come. 

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

After Lena allowed you to stay in her home, you happily made yourself useful and helped her with every chore you could, even if some of them were unnecessary. Lena might have scolded you a few times to relax and not to take on every task in the house. She was not that old to need constant help, and she got restless if she had nothing to do. 

The villagers didn’t seem to mind that you suddenly decided to live with Lena. They did think you were strange, but so far— you had gotten comfortable in your new routine with Lena. 

Currently, you were outside, hanging the laundry to dry. 

You never enjoyed doing chores when you still lived with your family. They forced you to do them every day, even the things that should have been their responsibility, but now that you got to do them voluntarily. You found it calming, relaxing even. 

Footsteps reached your ears, and you stopped to turn around and see a couple of men approaching you and Lena’s home. 

You frowned when the one who looked like the leader looked familiar. 

“Excuse me, my lady. You live here?” the man asked. 

“With someone. Is there something wrong?`” you asked. 

“We just came to inform you about the late-night attacks of the werewolves…” the man looked at you, and when you saw his face — you finally remembered. 

“Wait a minute…” he uttered, staring at you. A grin soon dressed his face. “(Name), is that you?” he asked.

“Ronan,” you said as you felt your blood run cold at the sight of your stepbrother. 

“Well. I’ll be damned! I thought you died after our father kicked you out of the house,” he grinned, crossing his arms. 

“You mean your father. I’m no longer part of the family, remember?” you corrected as you remembered the day clearly. 

“And he stopped being my father long time ago,” you said as you tried to continue hanging the laundry. 

“Oh… don’t be like that. Can you really blame him? Since you and your sister couldn't bring much pride to him unlike a son like me,” Ronan questioned with that mocking tone of his. 

At the mention of your sister, you felt a rush of anger boiling within you and glared at him. However, unwilling to cause a scene, you controlled yourself. 

“What do you want? If you have nothing else to say. Leave,” you picked up the laundry basket and began returning to the house. 

“No need to be so hostile. I’m on business, but can’t I say hello to a dear sister of mine,” Ronan said, sliding his fingers through your hair. You angrily brushed his hand away. “Don’t touch me, and do not call me that ever again,” you snapped at him. 

“And still can’t take a joke, huh? You’re still as short-tempered as ever,” Ronan said as he then grabbed your hair, harshly pulling it. 

You dropped the basket. “I said stop!” you swiftly grabbed Ronan’s hand and began twisting it hard, making him yell and bend with his arm. 

“Ah! Ah! Let go!” Ronan yelped as you forced him to kneel. You could feel and hear the bones twisting and cracking beneath your hand under the pressure. Seeing him whining in pain gave odd pleasure, and something in the back of your mind told you to break his arm— to see him suffer and pay for all the things he had done. 

“Miss…Let him go. He won’t bother you anymore,” one of the men said, but your mind didn’t progress his voice. You were compelled by the thought of breaking Ronan’s arm and seeing him scream in pain. 

You began to add more pressure to his arm, making him yell even louder. “Stop it! You break my arm!” he screamed. 

A door then opened, and Lena’s voice came through. 

“Is something wrong?” her voice snapped you back to reality and you released Ronan from your grasp. 

He got up and hurried away from you, shaking and feeling his arm, glaring at you. 

He glanced at Lena. “Nothing, ma’am. We just wanted to inform you that a group of dead people had been found in the forest, most likely done by a pack of werewolves. Stay inside during the nights and do not wander alone,” he explained, glaring at you before leaving with the other two men. 

When he was gone, you glanced down at your hand, the one you used to hold Ronan down. Since when have you possessed such strength to make someone like Ronan kneel? He was one of the strongest in physical strength in your family. He always bullied you with it, and now you were the one who made him kneel. 

“(Name). Did those men cause you trouble?” Lena asked worriedly. 

“Yeah…” you said, looking at her. “I’m fine. I just…” you hesitated, thinking if you should tell her about Ronan being your stepbrother 

“...helped him to get up,” you lied, feeling yourself cringe silently. 

“Ah, well, that’s nice of you,” Lena patted your shoulder and then looked down to see the laundry you had dropped lying on the grass. She hissed, shaking her head. “(Name). I just washed them. Don’t just drop them on the grass and let insects run around on them,” she said as she began picking them up. 

You awkwardly smiled. “Sorry…” 

“Enough with the sorries. Just help me pick them up,” Lena said, and you crouched down to help her. 

You couldn't help but glance toward where Ronan had walked off, feeling anxious about what might happen next now that you knew he was living in the same village. 

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

The stars twinkled in the night sky. The owls were hooting in the trees and the crickets were hopping in the grass, filling the forest with their sounds. 

Helping Lena with the dinner, you tried to distract your mind, but for some reason, you felt incredibly restless. There was this strange urge to go outside and catch some air. It was like the house had become too confiding, and your mind was also bothered by Ronan. You felt more restless knowing he was in the village. There was no knowing what he could do to make your life more unbearable. 

The restlessness was so strong that it gave you a headache. 

“Oh, dear. (Name),” Lena said. 

“Yes, Lena?” you turned to look at her. 

“I had forgotten to deliver a parcel to a friend on the other side of the village. They were expecting to get it today, so I have to go,” she explained as she was holding a parcel in her hands. 

“Allow me. I do not want you to strain yourself since there is a werewolf threat. It will be quicker if I do it,” you said. 

“Are you certain? You do not have to?” Lena questioned. You smiled reassuringly. “I will be fine. I feel a bit lightheaded so a walk of fresh air will do good for me,” you explained while taking the parcel. 

“Alright then. Be careful…” Lena said as you then walked out of the house.

In the village, you swiftly delivered the parcel to Lena’s friend, who was grateful and began to make your way back. 

The village was quite active despite the warnings about the werewolves. The tavern in particular was brimmed with laughing drunk men. 

You glanced at the moon while walking. It was not at its fullest and when you stared at it long, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your head. It was enough to make you stop to rub your head for a moment. 

A hand suddenly grabbed you from behind and began pushing you toward the forest at the edge of the forest. “What the –!” you didn’t get a chance to say anything as Ronan forced you to walk toward the forest. “Keep moving, dear sister. We don’t want to cause a scene in the middle of the village, now do we?” he kept his arm around your shoulder as you two walked toward the forest. 

You began to feel anxious about what he had in his mind as he took you away from the safety of being seen by the people. 

Ronan brought you to the forest, where it was dark save for the lights in the village. You finally pushed yourself away from him. 

“What is wrong with you?!” you snapped at him. 

“Relax! No need to take everything so seriously,” Ronan kept his hand up in surrender while keeping his infuriating grin on his face. 

“All you have ever done is torment me! Why should I not take this seriously?!” you glared at him, angry yet cautious about what he was planning to do to you in the forest. 

“You know, this behavior of yours is what got you kicked out of the family in the first place. You always think everyone is your enemy,” Ronan stated as he went through his pocket. 

“Well, you and your family have never been a good family to me. So let’s just cut to the case. What do you want?” you demanded. 

“Just to have a little talk… and maybe a little payback for nearly breaking my arm,” Ronan pulled a bag of some sort from his pocket. He opened it and then suddenly crushed the bag in his hand, making blood spurt at you. 

You nearly gagged as blood messed up your dress. You could only guess it was pig blood, which made you even more angry. It also only strengthened the headache you were having. 

“Ronan? What the hell?” you yelled at him before he suddenly grabbed you. 

“How long do you think it would take for a werewolf to smell all that blood?” he asked as he held his arm around your neck, forcing you to face toward the forest. You were filled with fear when you finally realized his intentions.

“Are you insane?!” you exclaimed. “Are you seriously trying to get me killed now?!” 

“No… I am trying to capture one. Did you know that a werewolf pelt pays well in the market? So how about you help me out by luring one out?” Ronan grinned.

“No! Let me go!” you started struggling in his grasp, but he now had a stronger grip. 

“Calm down. I am a professional,” he said as he forced you forward.  

“No! I am not playing these games of yours,” you yelled, trying to pull yourself out of his grip harder. 

“Stop… moving so much,” Ronan said as he only held his arm tighter around your neck.

Something rustled in the bushes. You and Ronan froze and stared at the bushes. The leaves of the bush were rustling violently. 

“Who’s there?” Ronan called out, but no one answered. 

You then smelled something in the air, something familiar. 

A werewolf leaped from the bushes, charging at you and Ronan with a fearsome bark. Ronan pushed you to the ground to avoid getting bitten by the beast. You groaned as you landed on your back. You then saw Ronan running away, leaving you at the mercy of the beast. 

You fearfully turned your attention back on the beast, crawling away as it began approaching you, bloodlust filling its golden eyes. 

The werewolf snarled and then pinned you down, pressing you down with its paw and showing its sharp teeth at your face. You looked away, closing your eyes and waiting for the inevitable death. But suddenly, the growling stopped. 

You dared to open your eyes to look and found the werewolf intensely sniffing you. It sniffed your face and neck before backing away, allowing you to lean up on your hands and see it staring back at you with a mixture of confusion and hesitation in its eyes. 

All the sense of fear vanished as you stared back at the creature, unsure what to do as it looked at you as if you were the strangest thing it had ever seen. 

You two then heard the villagers yelling in the distance, no doubt hearing the commotion. The werewolf glanced at you before sprinting away into the darkness of the night. You looked as it ran away, unable to progress what had happened. 

You lay back down, releasing the tension with a breath and waiting for the villagers to find you. What the hell was that? 

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

After the incident, you told the villagers what happened and without hesitation, what Ronan tried to do to you, which got him into trouble. He tried to weasel himself out of it but ultimately failed. It gave you a certain satisfaction because there was no doubt the incident tarnished his reputation. He even tried to make you the idiot who wandered alone into the woods and he was only looking out for you, but unfortunately, some people saw him bringing you there. 

Lena was worried sick for you when she heard about the incident. She scolded you and forced you to tell her that Ronan was your former stepbrother and that he had always bullied you in your life. 

Her presence comforted you, but you couldn't stop thinking about the werewolf. You couldn't figure out why it had left you alone or why it looked at you the way it did. 

Not only that, the incident had left your headache worse. You also felt a faint pain in your abdomen. You first thought your period was kicking in, but it did not feel like it. It felt like something else. Something you couldn't explain. 

Lena helped you to visit the local healer, who gave you some medicine for the headache, which only numbed the pain a little but not fully. 

Lena forced you to rest throughout the day since she was concerned you were getting ill, but your headache did not get better even if you managed to take a nap in the middle of the day. 

Your headache numbed when the night came again, and you were sitting on the porch, breathing in the fresh air. Breathing in the fresh air helped you a little, and the herbal tea helped your mind to relax. 

The moon hung at its fullest, casting an alluring glow upon the world below. As you gazed upon its brilliance, an inexplicable urge stirred within you, as if a hidden force longed to break free under the mesmerizing light.

Suddenly, you sensed something approaching you. 

You snapped your gaze toward Ronan, who was walking toward you with more than a couple of men behind him. You knew what it was about and prepared for the worst. 

“(Name),” Ronan started. 

“Go away,” you said back. 

“I will… once you admit it,” he replied. 

“Admit what? That you tried to use me as bait and then left me to die, nearly getting me killed,” you stated. 

Ronan hissed. “You know that’s not how it happened,” he said. 

“It did happen!” you yelled, standing up. “You are just lying to get back on the good graces of the people,” you added. 

“You never change. You’re still just like the rest of your side of the family, full of lies,” you said. 

“Lies? You are the one who’s trying to make me the bad guy, just because I happened to bully you when we were kids,” Ronan snapped at you. “Is this your way of getting back at me? I admit I wasn’t a good brother to you, but framing me attempting to get you killed? That’s a bit low even from you, don’t you think?” he questioned. 

Anger began to grow in you with each sentence he said. “Because I am not framing you! You literally forced me into those woods and then spilled blood on me, and you ran away when an actual werewolf came,” you remarked. 

“You’re not only a liar but a coward!” you yelled at him

Ronan looked more angry at you. “Do you have to be so stubborn with your lie? No wonder your whore of a sister killed herself so easily!” he said. ‘

You stared at him with profound silence. 

“Is something wrong?” Lena opened the door, and without control over yourself, you slapped Ronan hard across the face. 

“You bitch!” Ronan yelled as he then punched you. Lena shrieked as you scattered back with a bleeding nose. 

“Alright, Ronan. I think this is going too far?” One of Ronan's friends stepped up. “Shut up!” Ronan yelled at him. 

“(Name), are you okay?” Lena worriedly came to you, laying her hands on your shoulder as your hands were dressed in your blood. 

Suddenly, the pain in your head and stomach intensified, causing you to groan as you slouched down, arms wrapped tightly around your midsection.

The pain was unbearable. Your head throbbed as if it were about to split open, and the anger you felt toward Ronan only seemed to fuel it further. The pounding of your own heart echoed loudly in your ears, while an unsettling sensation churned in your stomach. It was like something was trying to claw its way out. 

“(Name), what’s wrong?” Lena asked, more worried than ever. 

Ronan only stitched and looked over to his friends. “See… pretending like she has broken bones even though I didn’t even hit her anywhere else,” he boasted. 

"I... I don't feel... so good," you managed to gasp out, your breaths becoming shallow and labored. Your gaze fixed on Ronan, and something inside you snapped, like a chain that had been holding you back.

Your eyes flared golden, and then your chest began to pulse with pain. You screamed, your voice distorting with another that sounded like a beast. Your body then convulsed, growing bigger and ripping your clothes apart. 

In your place now stood a giant form of a wolf. 

Ronan backed away as you stood before him as a werewolf, glaring and growling at him. He screamed when you bounced on him, slamming him down against the ground and beginning to tear him apart. 

Lena and Ronan’s friends stood back, horrified as you ripped Ronan apart. He screamed until he choked on his blood, and then you ripped off his head, letting it bounce on the ground. Blood dressed your mouth as you stared down at the corpse beneath you. 

The villagers began screaming when they saw you. 

Ronan’s friends ran away when you turned your attention to them. Lena stared back at you with fear as you came closer to her. 

You growled at her until you heard a voice within yourself. You stopped, shaking your head as your instincts told you not to hurt her. Snarling, you resisted the urge to kill the woman in front of you. 

When you saw the villagers coming at you with torches and weapons, you growled and ran away, leaving Lena alone. She was frightened yet worried as you disappeared into the darkness from whence you came.

Upon a hill, away from the village yet high enough to see all that occurred, Sauron looked at the chaos you had left behind.

"So, there you are, little wolf," he said to himself, glancing toward the direction where you had run off as a werewolf.

[sparkly-scales]

Masquerade Ascended Astarion x Female Tav *Smut*

Masquerade

ObsidianRose96

Summary:

Gods, why were you even here? You had absolutely no business attending this masquerade, you didn’t even have an invitation. But when you had read about the grand party that was being hosted in the Baldur’s Gazette you just had to go. You kept telling yourself it was for closure. You had to see him one last time, to get a quick glimpse of him living his best life without you before finally moving on with your own. But as you sip on a glass of wine, watching the festivities from the corner of the ball room, you're not so sure that’s the case.

Notes:

Hey guys it's me again! I took a little break from writing. This is more of a warm up one-shot more than anything. I'm still trying to perfect smut. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it. As always your support, kudos, mean the world to me and I appreciate it so much. You guys are the best!

Work Text:

It was easy to slip into the ballroom undetected. Your mask and couture blended in seamlessly amongst the sea of faces waltzing and parading around the vast mansion that was formerly known as the Czarr palace. You weren’t sure what name it went by nowadays. You hadn’t stepped foot in the place since you had fought its former occupant. Not since your former lover had taken up ownership. 

It looked much different than it previously had. The decrepit flooring and old crimson colored wallpapers had been replaced with carpentry more suited to Lord Acunin's tastes. The wooden floor that was starting to rot had been replaced with polished marble and the walls now boasted exquisite paints. Glimmering golds and dark hues decorated the once drab and dated walls. As you walk further inside the realization of what you were doing begins to dawn on you.

Gods, why were you even here? You had absolutely no business attending this masquerade, you didn’t even have an invitation. But when you had read about the grand party that was being hosted in the Baldur’s Gazette you just had to go. You kept telling yourself it was for closure. You had to see him one last time, to get a quick glimpse of him living his best life without you before finally moving on with your own. But as you sip on a glass of wine, watching the festivities from the corner of the ball room, you're not so sure that’s the case.

You shouldn't be here. The little voice in your head shouts. You know you shouldn't be here...you know what he is, what he's become. You're throwing yourself into the lion's den. If he finds out you're here he'll-  

“M’lady?” 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a fellow patron bows to you. A young nobleman by the looks of it. “You’re looking rather lonely on this fine evening. May I have a dance?”

You shake your head. “I apologize, but I’m not really the dancing type. Thank you for your invitation though. You flash a small smile at him and he moves on, leaving you to back your thoughts once again. Until a flash of silver from across the room catches your eye. And for the first time in 10 years you see him. 

Him.

The person you fled from, the person you told yourself countless nights you never wanted to see again. The man who still haunted your dreams. The man who still appeared in your nightmares.

The man whose memory still made your heart flutter and your loins ache. 

He’s the only one in the room not wearing a mask. Typical Astarion. So vain that even during a masquerade he has to make sure his handsome looks don’t go unnoticed. He looks almost exactly the same as he did when you had last seen him. That mirthful grin of his played on his lips as he spoke with a group of nobles and his crimson colored eyes bore into them as he held their gazes, letting them know that he was the one who was in charge around here. The only differences you could see from your position was that his hair was the slightest bit shorter, neatly trimmed for the night's grande event. And his skin, once the color of ivory, now had a hint of color. 

He was as beautiful as you remembered him to be. Maybe even more so.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly against your chest with such force that you feel yourself getting dizzy. Be it the copious amount of wine you've already consumed or the sudden bout of anxiety you were feeling, (or perhaps both) you find yourself having to lean against a nearby wall for support as you take a moment to calm yourself. Now you were really having regrets about attending tonight's festivities. Seeing him for the first time in years was threatening to surface all of the feelings you had repressed for far too long. They threaten to come back to you, to bubble over your common sense as you silently watch him from afar, studying him as he continues to converse with the group of nobles. 

"Tav? Tav Is that you?"

You jump a little, surprised to hear your name. But you breathe a sigh of relief when you look over to see Wyll standing in front of you. Even with his face shielded by his masquerade attire his voice is unmistakable. "Oh, thank the gods, it’s just you.”

"Tav, what in the nine hells are you doing here?" He whispers. 

"I-I just- you fumble your words as you try to get them out. "I don't really know, honestly”

He shakes his head. “All the work I’ve put in to help you stay hidden from him and here you are, like a fly in a spider's web.”

“I know, I’m such an idiot.” You say, running a hand down your face. “By the way, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t stand Astarion."

"I can’t. He’s a pompous asshole. But If you must know, I’m trying to secure funding for the city. As much as he makes me want to drive a stake through his ribs, we could always use his coin. But enough about that, Tav, do you know how much danger you're putting yourself in? You know as soon as he finds out you're here-"

"He won't find out if you keep it down!" You say. "In fact, I was just thinking about leaving. I'm starting to feel rather faint. I think the wine's starting to go to my head."

"Good. The sooner you leave the better I'll feel." Says Wyll. "If you need help, come find me. But try to stay as far away from him as possible. I'll swing by your place later to make sure you made it back home safely."

"Don’t worry about me too much. You know me, I can be as slippery as a snake.” You boast.

“Not when you’re drunk.” He says.

A young noblewoman clears her throat, catching the attention of both you and your former companion. "Duke Ravenguard, may I have a dance?" She asks. 

"Go on Wyll, show her your moves. I'll go ahead and take my leave."

Wyll nods at you and links arms with the young woman, leading her out onto the dancefloor. You decide that it's probably for the best that you leave. You did what you came there to do. You got one last look at him and now it was time to go. You look around to steal just one last glance but as you do you notice something that makes the color of your skin fade. 

He's looking right at you. His eyes are fixated on you, as if he can clearly see through your masked disguise. He flashes you a devious smirk.

He knows . 

Gods he knows . 

If there was any hope of you finally escaping him, of escaping the feelings that were so close to resurfacing you had to leave. Now. 

You quickly make an effort to disappear amongst the crowd of people, bumping into them as you bob and weave between the sea of patrons. 

God’s this was a terrible idea! A terrible, incredibly stupid, idea!

The wine was really starting to take effect as you try and find an exit, but it's hard to distinguish anything amongst the crowd. In the distance you see a door which you quickly make your way towards. But when you open it, it just leads into a hallway. "Gods damn it!" You mutter under your breath. You quickly maneuver through it, losing your heeled shoes to help you move quicker. You quickly sprint down it, keeping light on your feet, hoping that it’s an exit of some sort. Only, you find it leads to another vast hallway. You stop for a moment to assess your surroundings, looking for another possible exit, when you hear the sound of boots clicking against the marbled floors. The hair on the back of your neck stands straight up and you know without a doubt in your mind that it's him. 

You see another door at the end of the hallway and quickly yet as quietly as you possibly can, run towards it, finding it leads into the kitchen. From there you end up in another hallway. Gods damn it, when did this place get so big? 

As you stand there his footsteps seem to grow quicker, closer, louder. He's closing in on you. You look around and see yet another door. You open it and to your dismay it's a room. One of his servants quarters it seems. There's no way to escape, no windows to climb out of, no ladders leading up to the roof. Your only option is to hide. And so you do, ducking into a closet, trying your best to stay as still and as quiet as possible. 

The sound of his footsteps draw closer, and closer, until they suddenly stop. You hear the doorknob to the room you're hiding in being turned and the door softly open. 

You can hear him walking around outside of your hiding place, shuffling around the room. Then just as quickly as he had entered you hear him leave, shutting the door behind him. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and wait for about half an hour before coming out of your hiding place. 

But as soon as you step out of the closet you feel something cold and hard press up against your neck. 

The steel blade of a dagger. You feel goosebumps starting to rise on your skin as the blade presses harder, threatening to break your soft, delicate, flesh. 

"Well, well. Look who it is. Do you know how rude it is to show up to someone's party uninvited?" He asks. "I thought you had better etiquette than that darling." 

"F-forgive me. I'll go, I'll leave right now, I swear! Just don't slit my throat, please."

He chuckles darkly. "I never thought you'd be one to beg for your life, darling. Don't worry, I don't plan on killing you. Not yet anyways. I wouldn't want to spill any of your delicious blood on my floors." He says, as he puts his dagger back its sheath. He spins you around and yanks your feathered mask off of your face. "I can't believe it. After all these years, after all the time and resources I spent looking for you, you have the gall to just waltz right back into my home! Why? Why are you here Tav? And don’t even think about lying to me!" He shouts. 

"I...I came for closure. I thought seeing you one last time would help me to move on with my life. After all of the anger, pain, and hurt you caused me, I thought perhaps seeing you happy and well off without me would help me begin the process of starting over."

You look up at him in shock as he laughs. "You're trying to move on? From me? By the god's Tav, I'm insulted!" He shoves you onto the small bed sitting in the corner of the room. "Tell me darling, Did you find someone new? You're true love perhaps?" He asks, mockingly. 

“No, but I want to.”

You try to sit up but he pushes you back down. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I’ve been here, in Baldur’s gate.”

“Don’t lie to me Tav!” He growls. 

“I swear! I live over by the General store in the Lower City. I never left Baldur’s Gate!”

.

“Impossible! If that were true, I would have known. I would have been able to track you down by the scent of your blood.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. Gale crafted a potion for me. One that masks my scent so heavily that it’s undetected. I’ve been living under your nose this entire time.”

“All the time and money I spent searching for you just to find out you’ve been living in Baldur’s Gate this entire time.”

“The entire time. And I’m trying to start my life over again. I want to move on Astarion. I want to move to Waterdeep, find someone new, maybe start a family, expand my business. All you have to do is let me go and we can both forget about one another.”

He laughs again, this time it seems much more forced. "Darling, you're too much! Do you honestly think I'm going to let you leave again? After I spent such a long time looking for you? You've no idea the nights that I've spent pining for you, the hundreds of lovers I've taken on expecting them to be like you. None of them could compare!" He says, as he crawls on top of you. "You're mine! It was a mistake not turning you the night I ascended. My desire to feel the warmth of your flesh, to feel the beating of your heart overtook my senses. A mistake I've regretted every day since you fled from me. I will not make that mistake again!"

You wince as he takes out his dagger once more, afraid he's going to plunge it into you. Instead he lines the sharpened edge up with the middle of your gown and slides it down the fabric, slicing through it with ease. Your bra and underwear go next, leaving you completely bare before him. 

"Gods, I've missed this body. You've filled out nicely over the years darling." He says as he runs his hands along your curves. 

"Astarion-

"Quiet." He says. "I don't want to hear your protests. They'll fall on deaf ears either way. Just lie back, let me ravage you. Let me remind you why you don't need anyone else." 

A little voice inside of you is screaming, begging you to stop this, to get up and run. But as his lips find yours, that voice is overtaken, drowned in a tidal wave of the feelings you were trying so hard to keep at bay. The flames of a love presumed to be dead roar back to life as his tongue dances around with yours. You loins ache as he presses himself into you. This felt incredible. It felt so right…

You can feel his erection, hard and ready, begging to be released from the confines of his trousers. Gods, how badly you found yourself wanting it, needing it to be inside of you. The thought of his cock deep inside of you stokes the flames of your arousal and you feel that tell tale stickiness start to form between your thighs. You pull him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck, entangling your finger in his perfect, silver, curls. 

As the kiss deepens his fingers trail curiously down your thigh until they press up against your entrance. He hums in satisfaction as the tips of his fingers are coated with your wetness. He gently strokes at your folds, teasingly.

"Already so eager for me, darling?" He asks against your lips. He slips a finger in between your folds and you gasp at the sudden sensation. It had been so long since you had been touched in such a way. He continues to kiss you as he slowly begins to pump it in and out of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out soft moans against him, eager for more. 

“Astarion, I need more, gods please!” 

Your desire is soon fulfilled as he adds another finger, setting a slightly faster pace as he finger fucks you. 

"Mmmm, you like that, don't you darling? You haven't been touched like this in a while, have you?” He says as he pulls away from you. Your moans grow louder as you feel the pad of his thumb start to circle the most sensitive part of your cunt. "You couldn't find someone to pleasure you as well as I can, could you?"

"N-no. No one compares to you." You pant. 

"That's right." He says. You watch as he begins to unlace his trousers with his free hand, letting his cock spring out from its painfully tight confines. "No one can fuck you like I can."

As he continues to pleasure you with his fingers you start to see stars. Your core begins to tighten, your pent up pleasure begs to be released from a dam of mixed emotions that’s kept it at bay for so long. But just as your thighs begin to tremble, he stops. 

You let out a displeased whine when he suddenly removes his fingers. 

"Don't worry darling, I'm not going to leave you without." He says, sliding his fingers between your lips so that you could taste yourself. "But first, be a good girl and clean these off for me."

You do as he asks, softly suckling and licking his digits clean of you as he looks down at you intently. "Yes, just like that. Good girl.” He says, stroking your hair as you do so. “

God's, I'll have to have you do this with my cock later, but right now all I want is to be inside of you." He says, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to him, lining himself up with your dripping cunt before thrusting his cock deep inside of you. You let out a pained cry as he stretches out your walls for the first time in a long time. But as he continues to carve a path deeper inside of you, that pain quickly fades into pleasure. You let out cries of ecstasy as he fills you, each thrust of his cock earns a loud moan from your lips filling the room with a lecherous sound he'd been longing to hear for years. 

"That’s right Tav, sing for me! No one can fuck you like I can, no one can draw cries of pleasure from you like I can, and no one can love you like I can. Do you hear me? You're mine!" He growls, plunging himself into you harder. 

"F-fuck, Astarion-

"Say it! I want to hear you say that you're mine!"

"I'm yours Astarion!  I'm yours!" You cry. 

You're so close. That ache in your core becomes more and more intense and you begin to see stars once more. The pleasure that's been building up is desperate to be released, gnawing at the bars of its confines. But before you even have the chance to come undone, he grabs your wrist, bringing it up to his mouth. You look up at him confused.

"It may hurt a little, but I'll be as gentle as I can." He says. 

"Astarion, what are you doing?"

He says nothing. Instead he just smiles at you before piercing his fangs into your flesh. 

You hadn’t felt his fangs in so long that the feeling is now foreign to you. The sharp, icy, pain shoots throughout your arm and you can’t help but cry out in pain. Your body tries to fight against him but he holds you in place, drinking your blood while his cock is still inside of you. Your head lolls back and you start to feel light headed as he greedily laps up the delicious crimson liquid pouring from your veins. 

"I....I feel like I'm going to....pass out...Astarion...."

He pulls away from your wrist only to bring the other one to his mouth and you're hit with that same piercing pain again and he drinks from you once more.

"Please Astarion....I'm...."

"Hush darling, you're fine, I promise. Let me finish." 

Your vision starts to fade in and out as he continues to drink. When he pulls away his lips find your neck. "One last bite and you'll be mine. Forever." He whispers. You now realize what he's doing, but you're too weak to fight back. 

In all actuality, you didn’t want to fight back. You wanted this to happen.

It's a strange feeling. Teetering on the very edge between life and death. You were afraid, aroused, euphoric. As his fangs pierce your neck he begins to thrust into you once more and as your life slowly begins to slip away from you, you feel that tightening in your core as the climax you’ve been so desperate to reach finally comes to fruition. 

Your body begins to tremble and you let out one last cry as the flames of pleasure consume you, allowing your release like it were a supernova of pure unbridled bliss. 

 His thrust becomes more erratic and rough as he eventually follows suit. The warm feeling of his spend being released inside of you and the guttural moan that revibrates against the flesh of your neck lets you know that he too has reached his own climax. As he continues to drink from you, your vision goes dark. The last thing you feel is a peaceful stillness. And then, nothing. 

He slowly pulls away from you when he’s finished. He cups your hand for a moment, placing a soft kiss on the top of it. His soon to be dark consort. His vampire bride. 

There’s one last thing to do to complete the ritual. He reaches for his dagger, pricking his finger and letting a droplet of his own blood form at the tip. He gently places it inside of your mouth, letting it sit there until he’s sure the blood has dripped into your mouth. 

He gathers your limp body in his arms and lifts you off the bed, cradling you as he carries you to his bedroom. In a couple of days, you’ll be a completely different person. Forever changed, forever bound to him as his dark consort. His vampire bride. 

As he lays you down on his bed he kisses you one last time before fetching a servant to watch over you and returning to the masquerade, elated that his love had finally returned to him.

[oracleofdiscord]

just realized i've never shared my Garmadon Lives AU idea with you guys

it's something i came up with while watching season 5 with @destinysbounty

you know how in season 5, sensei garmadon is trapped in the cursed realm by unbreakable chains? it got me thinking - what if there was a way to break those chains, but it was just beyond what an individual (like lloyd) could do and instead needed to be more of an act of fate?

basically the premise for this au is that morro isnt content with just possessing lloyd, but instead finds a way to actually steal his powers/destiny, becoming the green ninja

but a version of the green ninja who's never actually...fought the Ultimate Battle from the prophecy. and garmadon was kind of a key part of that battle

so destiny itself causes the chains to break in an attempt to set the Ultimate Battle back up for morro to fight, which means that lloyd is able to successfully rescue his father when he goes to the cursed realm

so sensei garmadon comes back! i was picturing him coming back fully because he physically went to the cursed realm, body and all, but i could also seem him coming back as a ghost although in that case i'd need to rename the au

so lloyd and sensei garmadon go to confront morro together (basically the chase-through-the-realms fight from the end of the season), and the fight being 2-against-1 helps balance out the fact that now morro has the green ninja's power

they're able to take lloyd's power back during that fight, and the rest of the season pretty much plays out the same as the original

now, i haven't really decided how this changes season 6 (probably not much) and season 7, but i have absolutely thought about how season 8 exists in this universe.

the sons of garmadon still exist, and harumi is still their leader. but rather than wanting to bring garmadon back from the dead, she wants to bring garmadon back to his old evil self

basically, she thinks this version of garmadon is weak (pretty sure that actually is something said in Garmadon Rulez!) and wants him to go back to what she sees as his stronger self

she still ends up hearing a voice from the mask, but rather than lord garmadon's voice, it's more a general personification of the evil magic in the mask. it promises that it can help her restore the version of garmadon that defeated the devourer

rather than a resurrection spell, harumi gets her hands on a spell that can essentially re-awaken the darkness in an oni's heart

(the reason i say specifically an oni's heart is that i'm picturing the spells being from the same source, and it's all oni-related magic. and also for another reason we'll get to later.)

although having garmadon around and actively trying to stop her once the truth is revealed does make things more difficult, she succeeds in the end, turning sensei garmadon back into lord garmadon

(i'm picturing that playing out in the same order as the resurrection - it's assumed she failed, she gets taken to prison, but then the spell does in fact start working)

from there, everything plays out pretty much the same as in the actual show, with one exception:

surprise! this is also a Mystake Lives AU now!

basically, instead of getting killed when she gets caught by emperor garmadon, she gets the same spell used on her, turning her evil

however, after the oni trilogy, she basically does the same thing as garmadon of going off on her own adventures and vanishing, rather than enacting any grand evil plans

so in season 11, during that part in the ice chapter when sensei wu and p.i.x.a.l. are trying to reach the ninja but don't have enough traveler's tea, they decide to try and track down mystake to see if they can convince her to help

this turns into a little adventure of its own. they do eventually find her, but are unsuccessful in convincing her to help them

however, there are some hints that they might be starting to get through to her and the evilness induced by the spell isn't neccessarily permanent, foreshadowing garmadon's arc during crystalized

and also leaving mystake as a possible future character because it's what she deserves

[foxy-128]

SWEET SONG!

GN!CHILD!reader x avengers(platonic), reader is between 3-10 years old and they are scared of the dark! ^^

The lights in the Avengers Tower dimmed as night settled over New York City. You curled up under a cozy blanket in the living room, a small frown on your face. The dark shadows in the corners of the room felt a little too close for comfort, and despite your bravery, you couldn’t shake off the creeping fear of the dark.

Noticing your unease, Tony Stark glanced over from the couch, where he was tinkering with one of his gadgets. “Hey, kiddo, you okay?” He asked, his voice warm and reassuring.

You nodded but didn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on the flickering lights outside the window. “Just a little scared,” you admitted quietly.

Steve Rogers, sitting nearby, perked up. “How about we do something to take your mind off it? What do you say to a little sing-along?”

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion. You loved singing with the Avengers; it always made you feel better. “Can we sing ‘The Marvel Bunch’?” you asked hopefully.

“Of course!” Tony said with a grin. He looked around at the others. “Alright, team, we have a scared kid here who needs some cheering up.”

“Count me in!” exclaimed Peter Quill, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous smile. “I’ll take the star-lord part.”

Natasha Romanoff smirked, joining you on the floor. “I’ll handle the Russian spy. Let’s do this!”

As more of the Avengers gathered, you felt a rush of excitement. Thor stood proudly, ready to deliver his lines with all the grandeur of a god. “Fear not, young one! We shall banish the shadows with our song!”

Sam Wilson grinned as he joined the group. “And I’ll take the falcon part. Let’s show this darkness what we’re made of!”

“Ready? One, two, three!” Tony called, leading the way.

[Tony]

“Here’s the story,

Of a playboy genius,

Who was gearing up to form some sort of crew!” Tony started, his voice smooth and playful.

Natasha chimed in, “One’s a former Russian spy!”

“a god of thunder!” Thor boomed, his voice echoing around the room.

“Steve!” You cheered, pointing to Captain America.

“One fought in World War II!”

“It’s the story of a handsome star-lord,” Peter sang with flair, striking a pose that made you giggle, “Like the greatest to ever walk the Earth (by far).”

“And a falcon!” Sam added, his tone light and friendly.

“a magic doctor!” Stephen Strange said, giving a little twirl.

“Wakanda forever!” T’Challa announced proudly.

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of their camaraderie washing over you.

“Then one day all the heroes were assembled,

To fight a villain who packed much more than a punch!” they all sang together, their voices harmonizing beautifully.

“And this group was labeled the Avengers!” they continued, building the energy in the room.

You felt your worries fade as the Avengers sang in unison, their voices blending into a comforting melody. “That’s the way we all became the Marvel Bunch!

The Marvel Bunch,

The Marvel Bunch!

That’s the way we became the Marvel Bunch!”

As the final notes faded, you felt a wave of comfort. “Ah, hello, brother!” Loki chimed in cheekily from the doorway, but Thor promptly retorted, “Shut up!”

You laughed, feeling lighter. With a yawn, you nestled deeper into your blanket, warmth wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. The Avengers gathered around you, their presence banishing the shadows that lingered in the corners of the room.

“Thanks, guys,” you whispered, your eyelids growing heavy. “That helped a lot.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” Tony said softly, ruffling your hair. “We’re always here for you.”

As you drifted off to sleep, you could still hear the soft, melodic voices of your heroes, echoing in the room like a lullaby, reminding you that you were never alone. With them by your side, you knew you could face anything—even the dark.

---

I hope you enjoyed this story! Let me know if you'd like any changes or additions.

[rosetashes]

Hey my stars! So I want to go a bit more into Aphmau's backstory. However I'm warning you guys, it's dark. So if you feel uncomfortable in any way, please don't interact.

Tw: Branding, Blood, death, and Being a puppet.

Irene made Aphmau. Why isn't clear to anyone. Maybe Irene missed the child that she turned into a relic. Maybe Irene got tired of dealing with the world alone. But the most likely answer is Irene wanted a replacement.

After Irene locked herself in the Irene dimension, she decided to make something or rather someone. Aphmau is made of flesh, and on the outside, she looks perfectly human. However, Aphmau can't be hurt by raw meat and most poisons, her teeth are sharp, and she had fangs, and her body is always cold.

Maybe due fear The Shadow Lord and his knights would take Aphmau, or maybe it was Irene's possessiveness that caused her to brand Aphmau. Irene took a knife and dug it deep within Aphmau's shoulder cutting her symbol. After cutting, Irene would burn the wound making sure everyone especially Aphmau knew who she belonged to.

When Aphmau was around 5 Irene got tired of her. So, she threw Aphmau in another of her realms. One with a giant tree in the middle of a floating island. Some time after Aphmau left, Irene turned herself into a relic, 'killing' herself. Due to Irene's 'Death', her realms became unstable. And Aphmau was forced into the moral realm. She grew up on a small island in a small town. Everyone knew everyone, and she liked it that way.

One day, on Aphmau's twenty-first birthday something strange happened. As Aphmau was getting ready for an important ceremony, a lone shadow knight wearing green placed a staff near a town that needed the help of Irene. Aphmau was teleported away from her home and her family. Only to awaken with no memory of anything. Following the shadow knight, hoping for answers.

Aphmau would later realize the brand on her shoulder, confusing many while others said it fit her. After all in legends Irene was said to be very kind. She would have some powers such as healing and superhuman qualities. But she always felt a Shadow around her, reminding her of a past she forgot. Only when Aphmau got Irene's relic, did she unlock more powers and her sense of self grew weaker.

Irene's ghost wanted to live thru Aphmau, and Aphmau fought tooth and nail to keep Irene locked up in her mind. Due to the teleportation, Aphmau had a helper. The Shadow, Aphmau's former self. After a while, Irene's soul was sealed away within Aphmau. And Aphmau and her Shadow became one once more. Just in time to save Aphmau's life from a traumatic birth.

Aphmau would later grow to explore like before, this time for herself. For enjoyment and to try to learn more about her past. And one day Aphmau finally got rid of Irene permanently.

In case you're curious, yes Aphmau does get to see her old family again.

[themostsanebug]

miitopia is an rpg created by Nintendo utilising the customisation of the “miis”, characters meant to represent you, your family and people in general. the storyline goes along the lines of ; you’re a traveller, coming across the land of miitopia and you fall into greenhorne. Before being met with the dark lord whose goal is to steal everyone’s faces and place them onto monsters. You, the traveller have to gain team members and save the world and possibly the dark lord.

heres. My parties, ocs and a few facts :]

party 1; the sunstone party (greenhorne)

Faelyn, our main traveller, they/any, VERY gay for Aelius, just some. Guy from a kingdom that’s hidden from sight by a cloak of magic placed over it by its rulers. Faelyn isn’t anything special until the post game. In this party she is a mage, only being a beginner.

Aelius, He/they, VERY gay for Faelyn, the cleric and prince of aeligar. (By being the princess’ sibling I think that’s how royalty works?) Aelius, and the people of aeligar got infected with a curse that. Gives them more eyes and more horrifying features. Throughout the game I give Aelius more eyes.

Scamp, She/her, aroace, thief the party found her in a box and was like ‘yo wanna save the world with us?” And she was like “ok”

Penny, she/her, GAY for Nasrin. Popstar who was previously a clown, most miserable gal EVER.

Party 2; the trickster party.

Faelyn, same info as before. Slightly more miserable warrior, morning the loss of Aelius because he kinda got kidnapped.

Comet/C0M37, They/she, an anxious scientist and hacker who likes to basically bend physics without realising it. She’s terrified of their own abilities honestly. Sibling of Erith, therefore being part imp. In a qpp with sol!

Erith, She/her, a mysterious imp the party was forced to fight due to erith being partly controlled by the dark lord before comet recognised her as their sister, purifying her with a potion?? I guess?? Formula??. Erith has most likely lived through a war.

Sol, they/she, a cat that’s siblings with scamp! And in a qpp with comet. Sol is extremely energetic and found out about the party due to their sisters disappearance, wanting to help save her.

Party 3; Traveller party

Faelyn, same info, very miserable thief now. Past battles means they now have a blank eye and a lot more scars.

Nasrin, she/it, princess of aeligar, sister of Aelius. She’s also infected with the virus, and also joined Faelyn in a hope to find its brother (aelius) (she ended up finding out about Faelyn and Aelius and was li,e “good for you” and then met penny and was like “holy smokes!!”)

Jorildyn, he/it, (transgenderrr) a travelling cook from the land of the fey, seeing Nasrin and Faelyn struggle with a lack of healing abilities led Jorildyn to join their party, cooking delicious food daily with the scraps left of the monsters they fought. He probably loves cake more than anything ever actually.

Ori, She/her, Faelyn little sister! She found about her older sibling travelling to save the world and insisted she’d join, being a beginner mage after being taught by Faelyn when Faelyn still was living in their kingdom. Ori got heavily battered by goblins, being saved by the great sage who took Ori to Faelyn.

BONUS!! Pets. Technical other creatures

Cluzz, a hobgoblin they found in the land of fey that Faelyn refused to get rid of. With trial and error they managed to just about befriend it, when they saved Aelius he would cast a spell to give it a face from a person who wasn’t real. So it could live on as a friend,

skysong, a mystical horse they encountered also being swarmed by goblins. Once saved it agreed to partner with the team, regaining its magic very slowly.

Dominic, a dragon saved in the canon story that the party tamed, flying around miitopia on it.

I love my ocs DONT JUDGE ME. /silly

uh enjoy…

th. THAT IS A LOT HOLY MOLY..... BUT SOUNDS VERY INTERESTING!!!!!!! :D

[cyber-puppygirl]

season of the dawn is literally my favorite destiny 2 season of all time and it’s so fucked up that like basically all of its content is gone.

as a guardian you hear stories of legends, guardians whose power and resolve rival those of gods and are revered as such by humans and guardians alike. this is taken a bit further with Saint-XIV, who was one of the many guardians who fought at the twilight gap; a fallen siege on the last city of sol where dozens of guardians died their final deaths.

this point is even further proved with Saint in the curse of osiris dlc where you venture into the infinite forest, a vex simulator that they use to predict many futures, and find his final resting place inside. a burial place made for Saint by the vex; an unfeeling robot hivemind. what made them do that you might ask. he fought them endlessly for years until they found a way to counter his light specifically, strip him of it and ultimately, killed him.

on him however, you get the best weapon in the entire game ever: the perfect paradox. at first glance it just seems like a Saint-XIV themed shotgun, but when you read the associated lore tab is where everything for the season of dawn starts to get set up, 2(ish) years ahead of its release. it’s a note from Saint to you, personally. he loved hearing from you that the last city is alive and well and he loved to hear how much it’s changed, he talks more about that and a couple other things that he wouldn’t know due to being trapped in the infinite forest for so long. at the end of the note he then claims that the shotgun you gave him has served him well. that’s right the gun you picked up off of Saint is originally YOURS.

anyway fast forward two years and osiris is asking you to venture into the infinite forest again but with his sundial, a time machine made to be used exclusively inside the forest to stop the red legion from using it to change the course of the red war. but as you do that you find Saint ALIVE inside the forest, fighting. you meet with him and talk a bit, or well your ghost talks. and he tells Saint about the last city (he left earth to try and colonize mercury during the dark ages, after earth was overrun by fallen, not knowing the vex had arrived there first) and to let him know all he’s done isn’t in vain. and then, your ghost materializes the Perfect Paradox for Saint, and tells him “my guardian made this out of spare parts and Light and sheer will to aid you”. you wish him luck and then you are pulled out of the forest. you meet him a couple more times with the last time actually saving Saint-XIV, the greatest titan who ever lived. he tells you he is gonna stay inside the forest for bit longer, he’s not done tearing through the vex just yet. you get a cutscene where he says “since the day met you i swore i would make it my duty to follow your example. i’m still trying”.

being able to interact and talk with guardian legends like osiris and ikora or zavala, or even iron lord saladin is great these guys are very cool powerful guardians. but this is different, you changed fate like in the vault of glass, and saved a legend. and for that he idolizes you. you, the nameless guardian who never speaks. moments like these are why i play destiny, because in that moment i, just like anyone else, in that moment became legend.