#“when will the day come lord when you will come to us to recognize your mistakes in front of men?"

[per1w1nkl3]

just finished reading the gospel of jesus christ by jose saramago????? wtff im- uh ???? what the actual fuck jose.

[steveslevis]

all of you, all of me, intertwined.

azriel x healer!reader

summary: You met your mate during the war and have been obsessed with him–and his dagger–ever since.

warnings: smut!!!!!, improper use of of Truth-Teller (aka object in v), knife kink, dom/sub dynamic (+ hints of R in subspace), praise kink, lots of dirty talk, mentions of war & injuries, mentions of pregnancy

If anyone would’ve told you five years ago that the mating bond snaps for you when your brand new mate pulls a knife from his hip and presses it to your throat, you wouldn’t have believed them. Hell, even five days ago you wouldn’t have believed them. 

But here you are, a blade against your throat, back pushed against a wooden support of the tent you accidentally walked into as the most breathtaking male you’ve ever seen holds you in place, eyes narrowed and hands firm on your shoulder and throat as he stares down at you intensely with bright hazel eyes. 

You didn’t mean to walk into the wrong tent, exhaustion and confusion has taken over your body hours prior and it was an honest mistake to walk up the wrong row of tents in the middle of the night. So, you truly don’t blame the male for holding a knife to your throat. You would’ve done the same if a random fae waltzed into your tent while you were recuperating after battle, considering this is the middle of a Godsforsaken war with Hybern. 

A strained cry breaks from your throat as the bond tugs on your chest for the first time ever, feeling like your heart is about to beat through your ribcage as you stare back at the male in front of you, your mate. 

“Who are you?” he insists, blade pressing harder into your throat as he watches emotionlessly as you cry out once more.

You thrash in his grasp once, the blade slipping across your throat as you throw your head to one side. The male grips your chin to force you to look at him, making the blade slip across your throat once more, the tiniest ripples of blood coming to the surface as you lock eyes with him once more.

“M–Mate,” you whimper, voice barely audible as you stare up at him with terrified eyes, hands trembling as you try to reach for his blade. 

“Mate?”

Those are the only words you hear before you slip into unconsciousness, collapsing into the male’s grasp as he stands there, dumbfounded at your words. 

When you wake, you find yourself slumped in a chair, presumably in the tent that you accidentally entered prior to fainting. You’re faced with a familiar female when you wake, who you slowly realize is the High Lady of the Night Court. She’s standing over you, pressing a damp cloth to the shallow cuts on your throat. Your eyes wander as you process the people you’re currently in the room with, you see two very obviously Illyrian males next to the High Lord of the Night Court on one side of the room along with a tall, beautiful blonde female helping the High Lady with tending to you. 

It takes you a moment, but you slowly realize that you definitely wandered into the High Lord and Lady’s tent thanks to the fatigue from battle. 

On your final scan of the room, you finally comprehend that one of the Illyrian males on the other side of the room is definitely your mate, and it’s definitely the male that’s pacing back and forth in front of the other two while running his hands through his hair frantically. You finally recognize the two males with the High Lord as his General and Spymaster, the Spymaster being the one who bombarded you as you entered the tent, but you can’t remember either of their names in your haze.

You try to sit up straight as soon as you see him, but Feyre gently guides you back in the chair before you can. 

“Azriel,” she calls out, making the male snap his attention towards you. 

He’s next to you in an instant, kneeling next to the chair while peering up at you with those cautious hazel eyes. 

“H–Hi.” is all he says, voice shaky as he speaks. 

“H–Hello.” you stammer, finally sitting up straight in the chair, “My deepest apologies for barging in, I–I promise I thought I walked up the right row of tents, I was just trying to go–”

“It’s alright,” the male in front of you, who you now know to be named Azriel, interjects coolly, shaking his head as he notes the panic in your eyes. “The High Lord knows you mean no harm. He saw what you were trying to do.”

You furrow your brow, unsure what he means by the High Lord seeing what you were trying to do. Before you can question it, Rhysand himself takes a step towards your chair.

“And I saw how much blood you’d lost prior to your walk over to the tents, even before your new-found mate here decided to put a blade to your throat.” Rhysand says, “It’s Y/N, correct?” he asks, and you nod hesitantly, “Would you like to see a healer?”

It’s then that you remember that the High Lord is daemati and definitely infiltrated your mind when you entered the tent, in order to gauge the threat you posed to them. 

You shake your head quickly, a frown pulling on your lips as you’re reminded of the blood pooling beneath your leathers at your hip. You don’t want to see another healer, you’re a damn good healer, but you have to remind yourself that they don’t know that yet. Pain ripples through your side as you twist slightly in the chair to look at Rhysand and you have to force back a grimace as you give him a weak smile. 

“No, I am quite alright. Thank you very much, High Lord.” you say, nodding formally at him before attempting to stand from the chair. “I have plenty of healing and strength tonics back in my tent. I just n–need to wrap it and get some rest for the morning.”

You barely make it one step before stumbling, your mind going hazy and body going shaky due to the lost blood and lack of food or water throughout the day. Azriel is there to catch you as soon as you stumble, strong hands holding your weight up before settling you back into your chair. You see shadows skitter around you as you take a shuddering breath and you wonder if your vision is clouding again. But you soon notice them around Azriel’s hands as well and make a mental note to ask about them once you’re fully conscious and not feeling delusional. 

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fit to go anywhere right now.” Azriel mumbles with a slight growl in his voice, turning away from you immediately after you relax back into the chair. 

He walks over to a table on the other side of the room that’s filled with objects you’d find scattered across your own desk on any given day at work. There’s bottles of tonics, gauze, bandages and even some sutures strewn across the table. It makes sense that the High Lord and his Inner Circle would have their own supplies given to them during the war. 

Azriel takes his time gathering the supplies he needs, then sets them on a table adjacent to the chair before turning his attention back to you. 

“Do you need help, brother?” Rhysand questions, noting Azriel’s furrowed brow as he tries to decide what to do first. “I can call for Madja.”

“No, I can do it.” Azriel grunts insistently, sending a warning glare in Rhysand’s direction. 

There’s a tug in the center of your chest as he speaks, as he unintentionally sends his possessiveness and frustration down the bond to you. Without a word, you send a weak but soothing hum of power down the bond back to him, which makes his brows furrow again, his attention snapping to you instead of the High Lord now. 

The look in his eyes is wild, one filled with shock and awe as he processes what you just did. 

“Did you feel that?” you question softly, eyes wide and watery as your heart feels like it’s going to beat through your chest. 

He only nods, his own eyes wide as his hand rests over his heart. You hear the rest of them behind you beginning to exit, hearing the High Lady suggest that they go visit her sisters to give the two of you space. A feeling of relief washes over you as the tent empties, leaving you alone with Azriel, your mate.

“So it is real,” he says breathlessly, a strangled noise of shock falling from his lips as you tug on the bond once more, “you’re really my mate.”

“I am,” you say in reply, a smile playing on your lips as you gaze up at him, you reach a hand up to his cheek to cup it as you grin as you repeat his words back to him, “you’re my mate.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he notices how shaky your hand is against his cheek. He turns his gaze back to the slew of supplies he has in front of him. You hold back from directing him only for a moment before noticing the look of pure confusion on his face as he reaches for one of the tubs of salve that he’d grabbed. 

“Did Madja give you any strength tonics?” you ask, eyes scanning the table for the distinct bottle of aquamarine liquid that you have in mind. 

You spot it eventually, but can’t reach far enough to grab it, so you point to it for him to hand to you. Azriel does so and watches you closely while you shakily take off the stopper and take a drink from the bottle. You know that you only need to take half of the bottle, because you’d mixed these yourself and the amount in each was enough for male Illyrian warriors, not for an ordinary high fae healer. So you drink half of it and set it back down, noticing the male staring at you with wonder-filled eyes as you do.

There’s a beat of silence in the room as you reach for the healing salve on the table, making quick work of soothing the stinging cuts on your neck from Azriel’s interrogation. He continues to stare as you work on your own wounds, unsure of what he can do to help.

“Are you–” 

“A healer?” you interrupt with a smirk, giggling at the dumbfounded male in front of you. “I’m a healer working under Madja.”

“So you really don’t even need me to help with this, do you?” he questions, a small smile on his lips as he stares down at you soothing the cuts on your neck.

“Normally I wouldn’t,” you jokingly hum in return, “but since my healing abilities are stunted and I can’t twist too well right now to see what’s going on, I will need you to dress my wound.”

Azriel’s eyes widen at your words and he nods quickly, dropping to his knees in front of you again. His hands hovered over your waist, taking in the bloodied gash on your side. Your leathers are tattered in that area and there’s a piece of some other cloth shoved in between the holes of the leather, something you did while trying to keep the bleeding at bay while you fought. Truthfully, you can’t fully remember what caused the wound itself, but you’d rather not remember the traumas of the battlefield you endured over the last few days. 

“May I?” his voice interrupts your thoughts as his hands still wait for your approval to peel your leathers away from the wound. 

You nod silently, inhaling sharply as he pulls the leather away from your waist, tugging it up with your help. There’s blood caked on your skin, so Azriel makes quick work of carefully wiping down the area with a warm washcloth. You wince at the rough feeling of the cloth against your skin, biting back a cry as he continues to clean it. He mumbles apologies to you over and over again, his free hand grabbing for one of yours for you to squeeze.

“Almost done,” he murmurs, his thumb running across the back of your hand as he intently stares at your wound.

He finishes up quickly, pressing some dry gauze to the cut area before turning his gaze to you. Your eyes are watering when they meet his hazel ones, but you still give him a weak smile in return. 

“Now you can stitch me up, right?” you question jokingly.

Azriel misses the joke and the half smile on his face falls slowly at the thought. You giggle at his expression, shaking your head as he stares at you blankly.

“I’m only joking,” you tease, watching him finally relax once you start giggling. “I just need you to wrap me up, okay?”

“Yeah, yes of course.” he replies quickly, reaching for the large roll of bandage to his left to start wrapping it around your waist, “Do you harass all your healing trainees like that?”

There’s a smirk on his face as he places the bandage over the gauze on your side, eyes twinkling as he teases you back. 

“No, only the ones that interrogate me with a knife right before I find out that they’re my mate.” 

______________________________________________________________

Six years later

“Can you believe that it’s been six years since you held me at knife-point with Truth-Teller the first time we met?” you ask your mate, who just emerged from your en-suite bathroom in only a towel.

You’re laying on your side in the middle of your king-sized bed in the middle of your shared bedroom, toying with Truth-Teller that Azriel had left behind on the bedside table. 

“Are you ever gonna let that go?” Azriel says as he walks toward the edge of the bed, a smirk on his face as he pushes Truth-Teller out of your grasp. “I only did it because I thought you were gonna try to kill Rhys, or even worse, kill Feyre.” 

You gasp at his statement, throwing your hand over your heart dramatically. 

“I would never do such a thing and you know it.” you say with a dramatic frown, propping yourself up on your elbows as he inches closer to you by sitting down next to you. 

“I didn’t know that then,” he says matter-of-factly, “but now I know that you would never do such a thing and that you’re a little too fascinated by Truth-Teller after all that. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re turned on by it.”

Your eyes widen at his bold statement, your body flushing with embarrassment as he smirks at you before pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hands caress your sides, fingers gently grazing over your scars from that fated night from over your silk nightgown. You grasp for any part of him that you can, your hands shoving their way into his slightly damp hair to pull him closer. He hums against your lips, pulling you onto his lap. 

He presses your hips down onto his, causing you to moan into the kiss and grind back into him as you feel his half-hard length pressing against your core. His lips trail from your lips, to your cheek, and up to your ear. His breath fans against your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Shadows trail along the hem of your nightgown, pulling the silky fabric up and up and up–

“How would you feel if I used Truth-Teller on you now, huh?” he murmurs against your skin, nibbling on your earlobe as he chuckles, “What if I took the blade and cut this pretty little nightgown off? What if I took the hilt and–”

Azriel’s lewd words are interrupted by a loud banging on your bedroom door, causing you to nearly jump out of his lap as the pounding continues.

“Training in twenty minutes with the Valkyries, asshole.” you hear Cassian’s booming voice call from the other side of the door, “Get your shit done and get out here, I can smell you two from out here.”

“I’ll be there, now fuck off,” Azriel retorts, biting back a smirk as he peers down at you to mumble, “remind me to look into new houses for just us soon.”

A pout pulls your lips down as you make the smallest bit of space between you and your mate, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you become all too aware of your arousal hanging thick in the room.

“Don’t worry, love. We can continue this later,” he hums, bringing his lips to your neck to pepper kisses along the soft skin, “I don’t wanna rush anything today, wanna take my sweet time with my sweet girl.”

The flush of your cheeks deepen as you pull him closer, whining in response to his sensual touch, grinding your hips ever-so-lightly against his as you try to silently convince him to stay with you. He only growls in response, shaking his head at your mischief as he realizes your plan. 

“It’s our anniversary, Az.” you whine, a frown on your lips once more as the scent of your arousal continues to linger around you, enticing your mate more and more with each breath. 

It’s the anniversary of the mating bond snapping into place along with the anniversary of your mating ceremony today. The two of you decided to wait a year to accept the bond in order to get to know each other, and you’ve been inseparable since.

“I know, love.” he coos gently, hand coming up to your cheek to stroke it gently. “That’s why I wanna take my time with you, wanna make sure my perfect girl is taken care of in every way possible tonight. Can you be a good little mate and hold out until after dinner with the family?”

You continue to frown at your mate, but nod at him slowly. He smiles in return, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before gripping your hips to remove you from his lap and place you back on the bed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to training?” Azriel asks as he stands, reaching for his coveted blade as he stands over you. “I could bring Truth-Teller out to play just for you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the familiar yet strange feeling of dread roiling within your gut as you try to feign annoyance with your mate. You shake your head at him wordlessly, rolling your eyes playfully when he shoots a lighthearted smirk in your direction. He’s only teasing you and you both know it, but the thought of training for battle does not sit right with you anymore, especially after you swore to him five years ago that he’d protect you forever, and that you’d never have to be on the front lines of war again. You could continue your duties as a healer for as long as you pleased, and would never have to worry about defending yourself, as your very own shadowsinger would do so for you. 

Ever since sustaining your injury six years prior, your body has never been the same. The injury you sustained was so intense that even the powers of you and Madja combined couldn’t heal the skin of your waist fully, nor could the two of you completely repair the damage to your hip bone that fractured from the impact of whatever took a chunk out of you. You can’t move as freely as you once could, though it doesn’t stop you from many things now aside from training, which you’ve only attempted once. 

“I’m only joking, love.” he reassures you, seeing the dimming light in your eyes as you drift off into thought at the idea of training. His hand runs along your side reflexively, as if his own scarred hands can heal the scarred skin of your waist. He plants one soft kiss on your lips before pulling away, taking you in as he smiles, “I love you, happy anniversary.” 

“Happy anniversary, Az. I love you so much.” you murmur, watching as your mate continues to get ready for the day. 

—

The day flies by quickly, filled mostly with fulfilling orders from Madja for illness tonics and salves in preparation for the coldest months in Prythian. It’s all a blur to you in all honesty, your mate being the only thing on your mind all day as you try to preoccupy yourself with busy work until it’s time to go to the River House for dinner.

It’s only 4:30 in the evening by the time you finish putting the rest of the salves into their tins. But you still decide to head to the River House a little early in order to speak to Feyre regarding an experimental tonic the two of you had brainstormed about a few weeks prior. 

She had commissioned you to do some research on non-Illyrian females giving birth to half-Illyrian children if there was any magic that could help to make the process less life-threatening. The High Lady never specifically asked you to make anything, just to research the topic, but you found a mix of tonics that would potentially help with flexibility and strength of a female’s bones during pregnancy in order to prevent major complications with the Illyrian wings and couldn’t help but start experimenting right away. 

It was a topic dear to your heart and you were more than grateful for Feyre’s commission, as you’d been told by Madja multiple times that it’s very possible that you’d never be able to mother Azriel’s children, especially due to the injuries you sustained in battle damaging your hip and pelvis. You’d hoped that this could be the cure for your feelings of inadequacy in being able to give your mate a child, but Madja still warns you to be careful and to wait as long as possible before deciding to try for a child in order to make sure you are truly healed. 

Despite the ringing thoughts of inadequacy in your brain after finishing the tonic, you nearly floated with excitement over to the River House at the end of your day, feeling beyond excited to tell Feyre the great news about your work-in-progress.

You enter the River House and are greeted with the smell of fresh pastries and a crackling fireplace. One turn into the drawing room and you spot Feyre lounging on the couch while Nesta plays with Nyx in the middle of the floor. Rhysand enters the room from the other direction as you do, three glasses of wine in hand as he strolls toward the couch to sit with his mate. Your chest blooms with warmth at the sight in front of you, admiring your found family that you lucked into becoming part of just a few years ago. 

Feyre is the first to notice you enter the room, greeting you with a grin as she motions for you to come in. You sit on the couch that’s facing the one the mates are sitting on, quietly greeting the others in the room as you settle. 

Nyx all but abandons Nesta when you come in, waddling over to you to give your legs a hug. You giggle at the boy, grabbing him under his arms to pull him into your lap and give him a proper hug giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You’re here early today,” Rhys notes, summoning a fourth glass of wine for you before handing it to you. 

“I finished with my work early today, and had some exciting news to tell the High Lady that I wanted to share before dinner.” you retort with a smile, bouncing the toddler on your knee as you speak. 

Feyre’s eyes narrow at you as you call her by her formal title, but it’s so second nature to you that you almost always slip up when referring to her in conversation. You give her an apologetic look but her mood quickly changes once she realizes what you’re referring to.

“Oh, what have you found?” she says excitedly, sitting up straight as if that would help her hear your response any better. “Any good ideas for us to look into?”

“Actually, I have something better than good ideas to look into,” you say, reaching your hand into the bag at your side, pulling out a small vial of a cherry red tonic to show the three in front of you. 

“Is that–”

You nod slowly and hum in response, swirling the liquid in the vial before handing it to Feyre. She inspects it with wide, wonder-filled eyes as it sloshes in the tube. Nesta and Rhys crane their necks to look as well, both confused about the content of the vial.

“If it does what it is meant to do, it should be able to widen the pelvis of non-Illyrian females in order to aid in the birth of winged babes and make the process easier on our bodies.” you start, a bittersweet smile on your face as you catch yourself using the word our, referring to yourself as one of the females, though you know how unlikely it is that you’ll be able to. “It is supposed to help with the flexibility of the bone and grow the bone outward in order to accommodate the wings. We–We just need to complete some trials on non-pregnant females to confirm that it does what we want it to do before we can start advertising it to the public–”

“I’ll volunteer,” Nesta says, eyes wide as her own eagerness takes her aback. “I mean–If you need volunteers, I would love to help.”

“Of course, Nes.” you say with a smile, “You’ll be the first person on my list to contact when we’re ready for volunteers.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjects, taking a sip of wine as he peers over at you with nothing but pure interest and amusement in his eyes. “Would this be able to help you with childbirth, given your situation?”

Feyre immediately elbows her mate in the ribs, giving him a sidelong glare as she does. You know his curiosity is genuine and he means no harm by asking the question, but the thought alone feels like a knife through the heart. 

As you open your mouth to answer him, the doors to the house swing open, a booming voice flowing through the lower level as Cassian and Azriel enter. You thank the Cauldron in that moment for Cassian’s loud mouth, turning your attention to the two males strolling into the drawing room. 

Your mate’s eyes meet your own instantly, brow furrowed as he looks down to you, able to feel your discomfort, thanks to the conversation they’d interrupted, through the bond. You give him a weak, but reassuring smile, tugging on the bond lightly as if to tell him that you’re fine. 

“We thought we’d find you two here,” Cassian says to you and his mate, pulling Nesta into an embrace when she stands to greet him. “Neither of you can go a full day without seeing your precious Nyx, can you?” 

You smile down at the giggling boy in your lap, little wings flapping happily behind him as Cassian comes behind him to poke him teasingly. 

“As much as I love this little babe, I know my rightful place,” you laugh, standing from the couch to hand the child over to Nesta. “I know I’m quite far down on the list of favorites, especially since Auntie Nes is 1000% his number one.” 

Nesta hums in approval as she holds the little boy close, cooing as he plops his head down on her shoulder. 

Azriel makes his way over to you, his shadows immediately greeting you with lingering touches and whispers in your ears. His wing closest to you nearly wraps all the way around you like a protective shield, covering your back as he pulls you to his side to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you alright?” he mumbles against your skin and you nod, feeling better now that your mate is by your side again, especially when he sends a soothing hum down the bond to you. 

The rest of the night goes by smoothly, with flowing drinks and a bountiful feast. You told Feyre a thousand times that she did not have to do all of this just to celebrate your five year mating ceremony anniversary, but she insisted. It’s just you, Nesta, Feyre and your mates, and Nyx, present for dinner this time, as the others have other obligations. 

You don’t mind, though, since sometimes it’s overwhelming with all of the Inner Circle, including Varian and Lucien following their lovers around like lost puppies, present for dinners. So you’re grateful for the somewhat smaller crowd, meaning there are less people around to ask prying questions about your job, about your life before meeting Azriel, or–your least favorite–about what Azriel is like in bed. Those questions typically come from Mor or Amren after a few too many glasses of fae wine, but you’re grateful for the break from them for the time being.

You don’t miss the way your mate sneaks glances at you all night, sending his shadows to tease you and play with the crushed velvet of your skirts while acting engrossed by conversation with Nesta, using his own strong hand on your thigh to tease you. 

By the time desserts roll out, you’re having a hard time sitting still under his touch, ready to head back to the House of Wind to continue whatever you had started with him earlier in the day. You’re shifting back and forth in your seat while trying to focus on the chocolate tart in front of you when you feel a strong hand squeeze your thigh once again, making you snap your attention to your mate. 

Azriel smirks down at you, reaching his free hand to your cheek to stroke it gently. Your knee brushes his leg as he massages your thigh gently, pushing your knee against the sheath holding Truth-Teller flush to his outer thigh while a wicked smirk plays on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing and it’s damn near driving you insane.

“Are you going to be okay to leave after you finish your dessert, love?” he questions, feigning innocence as he knows at least Nesta and Cassian are listening to him from the seats on the other side of you. “I’m exhausted from training today.”

You nod quietly, keeping a cool and collected expression on your face while you tug on the bond between your souls sensually.

It’s only 8 in the evening by the time Az is shooting into the sky with you in his arms, two hours earlier than the two of you usually are leaving the River House on a family dinner night. He typically has to drag you out of the drawing room after multiple drinks with Feyre and Cassian, but this time you’re the one dragging him out. 

He doesn’t even bother entering the House of Wind through the front, just flies straight onto the balcony outside your bedroom, pushing the door open quickly as he sets you down gently. 

Before you can pounce, he turns away from you and walks over to his desk on the other side of the room, rummaging through the top drawer. He pulls out a black rectangular box that’s a little longer than his hand, adorned with a golden ribbon. You frown as he turns back around, shaking your head at him.

“Az, we said no gifts.” you say, brows furrowing as he runs his hand along the edges of the box nervously. “I–I didn’t get you anything.”

“I know, I didn’t want you to get me anything,” he says firmly, hazel eyes flaring with love and intensity as he stares down at you. “I–I just wanted to give you this, it’s something I’ve had for a long time and haven’t really known what to do with, until now.”

He’s firm in his movements as he places the box into your hands, not letting go until you accept the gift. You eventually grab it, a frown crossing your face as you look down at the box.

You choose not to argue with him anymore, giving in to his intense gaze as you tug on the golden ribbon to free the lid for the box. In all honesty, you’re expecting some kind of jewelry, some delicate and historic necklace that he’s had for centuries. What you’re not expecting to find on the other side of the black lid is a dagger. 

Lying within a blanket of velvet inside of the box is a silver dagger, one with a braided silver and gold hilt adorned with large white and golden-yellow gemstones in an intricate pattern imitating starlight all the way from the pommel down to the cross-guard. A gasp falls from your lips as you take in the beauty of the weapon in the box, unsure of what to say.

“I was given this dagger centuries ago by my mother. She told me she knew I would never use it myself because my hands had nearly outgrown it by the time she gave it to me, but she knew that I would find the perfect person to give it to.” Azriel says, unsheathing Truth-Teller to place it next to the box in your hand. “I think deep down she knew that I would meet you, love.”

The dagger within the box is almost an exact replica of Truth-Teller in shape and form but not size, only the color of the gemstones embedded in the metal and the gold-adorned hilt of the smaller one setting the two apart. 

The two blades seem to hum when set next to each other, as if they were Made together, as if they were twin flames, as if they were mates. You can feel the vibration in your hands along with in your own soul as you stare down at the gift in wonder.

“Az, I–I can’t take this from you,” you say, finally looking back up at him with teary eyes, “I know how much your daggers mean to you, I don’t want to take one from you.”

“My lightsinger,” Azriel nearly whispers to you, his free hand coming up to brush through your hair, “my beautiful mate, can’t you see?”

You smile gently at the nickname, one he’d given you shortly after the two of you had met. He’d told you that he thought you were a lightsingerwhen you walked into the tent that evening, joking that you were just like the faeries living in the Bog of Oorid in the way that you lured him in immediately. The nickname stuck, especially after the first time he’d watched you heal Nyx, seeing the bright light flowing from your fingers as you healed the boy’s scraped knee to ease his pitiful sobs. 

“Can’t you feel it, love? This dagger was made for you, it took me so long to realize it, but I just know this was made for you. It sings to Truth-Teller, just like your soul sings to mine. You are the light to my shadows, I–I really never thought I would find you in this lifetime, but then you just stumbled into that damn tent six years ago and my life has been so much better since. I was stuck in a constant state of darkness with no real purpose in sight until this bond snapped into place, but now I can see what my life is meant to be spent with you.” he continues, cupping your cheek. 

For a man of few words, Azriel always knows how to make you melt. Without a word, you pull him down for a gentle kiss, feeling the two daggers hum in rhythm with your bond between your bodies. You pull away from the kiss to peer up at him, eyes glowing with love and warmth.

“I love you, Azriel.” you whisper, pulling him close as his shadows skitter over your hand that’s touching his cheek. “My shadowsinger, my mate.”

He doesn’t say anything as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other pulling the daggers from your grasp. He sets you and the blades onto the edge of the bed, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he kisses you deeply.

“Can we finally finish what we started earlier today?” you tease against his lips, earning a chuckle from the shadowsinger.

“I think we need to finish the conversation we were having earlier before we continue anything else, yeah?” he murmurs, trailing kisses along the smooth skin of your neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum innocently, grinding your hips up into his eagerly. 

“Hmm, you don’t?” he questions, blindly searching for the blade he’d strewn onto the bed next to you with his free hand before running it along your arm. You gasp at the contact, the coolness of the blade making your skin erupt in goosebumps, “Does this jog your memory at all, love?”

You open your mouth to make a teasing comment to your mate, but he trails the blade from your arm and up to your chest, stopping at the hem of your shirt laying between your breasts.

“Do you want me to use my blade on you?” he questions, voice low and sultry as he speaks, “I see the way you watch when I train with Truth-Teller, I can feel the way it makes your heart race every time I pull it out. I see how disappointed you get when I take it off my hip when I come into the bedroom, love.” he continues, the tip of the blade drawing tiny circles on your chest as your breathing grows heavy. “Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

You stare up at him with lust-filled eyes, pupils blown as you think about what’s about to happen. He gives you an encouraging yet lustful look in return, tugging on the bond between your souls to tell you how much he needs you. His shadows trail around you as well, tendrils swirling by your ears and down near your breasts excitedly to spur you on. 

“I–I want you to use Truth-Teller on me, Az.” you admit finally, a blush spreading over your cheeks at the confession. 

“How would you like me to use it, love? You gotta use your words or I won’t know what you want.” he coaxes, a smirk playing on his lips as he tries to get you to elaborate, since it always took much encouragement from the foul-mouthed shadowsinger to get you to talk dirty with him. 

“Want you t–to fuck me with it, u–use the hilt to fuck me.” you murmur, eyes falling to avoid his as the words fall from your lips. “Want you to cut my clothes off with it and–and then fuck me, mark me as yours, Az.”

He hums happily at your confession, one hand coming up to grip your chin. Your eyes meet his and you notice that something’s changed, something dark and lustful taking over his gaze as he trails the blade from the exposed skin of your chest towards the ruffled neckline of your pale marigold dress. Your breath catches as the blade digs into the velvet, easily creating a small nick in the fabric.

“This dress is one of my favorites on you,” Azriel states in an almost disappointed tone as he watches the blade slowly separating the bust of the dress, “but I guess I’ll just have to find a really good seamstress to make you a new one because I need to get this off of you, right now.”

Before you can process the scene unfolding, Azriel uses one swift flick of Truth-Teller to split the velvet all the way down to your navel, and one more to separate the skirt. His eyes are wide as he shoves the fabric from your body, helping you as you tug your arms out of the sleeves, leaving you in only a glittering navy blue bralette and thong, picked out specially for him. 

“You’re incredible,” the shadowsinger breathes out, feverishly pressing his lips to yours again once he takes in your figure below him.

Your heart races as you raise your hips up, grinding against his clothed cock while he trails Truth-Teller over your bare hip. He groans into your mouth before pulling away from the kiss, gently removing your legs from around his hips to spread them for you. Shadows work on your bralette as he moves the blade, unbuttoning the back of it so you can quickly toss it off, leaving you in only the glittering navy thong.

Truth-Teller is in Azriel’s hand as he takes a half-step away from you in order to trail the blade down to your core, the cool metal against your heat causing you to squirm slightly. He smirks at you as he flips the dagger around, hand on the blade as he presses the hilt against your clit. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” he questions seriously, watching you closely for any signs of hesitation. He finds none as you shake your head firmly.

“Yes, Az.” you nearly whine as it takes everything in you to keep your hips on the bed, feeling like you’re going to implode if he waits another minute to touch you. “I need you..need Truth-Teller, please.” 

“Nuh-uh, love. I gotta hear what you want.” he purrs, a smirk playing on his lips as he holds your hips in place with one hand while pressing the dagger against your clit with the other, “Gotta tell me what you need from me and Truth-Teller.”

It takes everything in you not to scream as he urges you to beg for him, tears welling in your eyes as you stare up at your mate. His hazel eyes are blown with lust as he continues his relentless teasing, getting pleasure from you begging for him.

“P–Please,” is all you can say as your mind becomes fogged by desire, eyes glassy as you beg.

“Use your words, love.” he prods again, a wild smirk on his face as he watches you becoming a mess beneath him. He knows you love submitting to him like this, and loves watching you give in to his every desire, loves watching you give up all control in order to please him. 

“I don’t know what you want when you just sit there and whine at me,” he teases, removing Truth-Teller from your core to move it towards your lips. “For all I know, you could want me to fuck your face with it.”

He catches the way your eyes flare slightly with interest at his suggestion, the way your lips part slightly as if you’re ready to take the hilt in your mouth instead. He knows you’re close to giving in again just from the way you can’t take your eyes off of him, the look in your eyes showing him that you’ll do anything for him.

A low chuckle falls from his lips as your mouth falls open when the pommel presses against your plump lips, allowing him to slide the hilt into your mouth with ease. Your lips close around the metal and he presses it to the back of your throat, slowly pumping it in and out as you whine around it.

“This isn’t what you really want, is it?” he questions and you hum around the hilt and shake your head slowly. “That’s what I thought. Once I take this out of your mouth, you have five seconds to tell me what you want, or you don’t get to cum at all tonight, got it?”

You nod obediently up at him, heart swelling with pride as he smiles sweetly down at you. 

“Good girl.” he whispers, finally pulling Truth-Teller out of your mouth for you to speak.

“Want you to fuck me with Truth-Teller, Sir.” you beg almost immediately, “Please, I–I need to feel it, wanna cum on your dagger, wanna be your good girl.”

“Oh, I can’t say no when you ask so sweetly, can I?” he coos at you as he pulls your panties away from your core, making room for his fingers on your clit and the hilt of the dagger against your entrance. “Now, be a good girl for me and stay still, sweetheart.”

He presses the pommel into your cunt, groaning as he watches your heat swallow the metal so well. A cry of pleasure falls from your lips as the hilt is pushed deeper into you, mouth falling open as you squeeze your eyes shut. That familiar feeling coils in your core as the hilt reaches your cervix, pent up from all the teasing you endured leading up to this moment. 

“Look at you, already ready to fall apart on my dagger. Such a good slut for me,” he remarks, pumping the blade into you at a steady pace. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, alright?”

“Yes, Sir!” you whine, nodding feverishly as you squirm.

Azriel watches in wonder as you take the entire hilt of the blade, your hips bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. He can tell you’re fighting hard to hold back your orgasm, getting even more turned on by the tears of pleasure and frustration pricking the corners of your eyes as you bite your lip harshly. 

“Love when you take what I give you and listen so well,” he praises, increasing the speed of his thrusts as you begin to chant his name mindlessly, “My beautiful little mate.”

“P–Please, Sir.” you beg, eyes opening quickly and hips snapping roughly as you feel the shadows begin to work on your clit when Azriel takes his hand away to palm himself through his pants. “I wanna cum for you, please!”

“That’s it, love.” he coaxes as you don’t dare to look away from him, watching as he smirks down at you approvingly, “C’mon, cum on my blade.”

You don’t have to be told twice, your release immediately washing over your whole body as you let out a loud cry of pleasure. Azriel wraps an arm around your waist as you squirm beneath him, pumping Truth-Teller into you at an unforgiving pace to fuck you through your orgasm. He kisses your neck gently, whispering praises in your ear that you can’t hear over the shout that falls from your lips. He doesn’t stop moving until you’re almost begging him to, squirming beneath him to get away from his relentless touches. 

“Did so good for me.” he murmurs against your skin, planting one last kiss against your neck before pulling away from you completely and placing Truth-Teller next to you on the bed. “Think you can give me another?”

You watch in a daze as he strips, discarding his clothes quickly before returning to the foot of the bed. In his own lustful daze, he begins to sheath himself into you immediately upon stripping, but stops himself when he looks down to see you blinking up at him slowly. He relaxes for a moment, reaching to stroke your cheek gently to bring you back to him. 

“Need your color, love.” he coos, smiling down at you sweetly.

“Green, Az.” you say confidently as you nuzzle against his hand, “Need you so bad, Az, please.”

He hums in response, leaning down to kiss you gently as he pushes into you, one hand toying with your clit as he does. You both groan at the feeling, his cock filling you to the brim, unlike the hilt of Truth-Teller that didn’t have the same thickness.

“F–Fuck,” he groans, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “You feel so good, love. Don’t know how long I’ll last.”

He couldn’t lie, watching you get off on Truth-Teller turned him on so much more than it should have. It turned him on so much that he’d almost cum in his pants at the sight of you, so he’s on the brink of cumming just from being inside your warmth for a few strokes. 

“Want you to cum in me, Az.” you whine, desperate to feel him, in love with the sight of your mate marking you as his. “Please, cum inside me. I’m close again too. Make me yours all over again.”

He nods wordlessly, speeding up his thrusts as you coax him now, the feeling of you clenching around him spurring him on even more. You wrap your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his shoulder while you moan, his name falling from your lips like a chant. 

It isn’t long before his hips are stuttering, thrusts becoming erratic as he reaches his own climax. You’re not far behind, feeling his cum coating your walls making you cum quickly as you hold onto him tightly. 

“Gods,” he mumbles as he collapses against you, your sweat-slick bodies flush against each other as you feel your heart beating in time with his. “You’re unbelievable.”

You hum tiredly in response, trying to fight your weariness for long enough to get ready for bed. Azriel can tell that you’re exhausted as he pulls away, and he knows what he has to do. He plants a quick kiss to your forehead as he pulls his half-hard cock from your cunt, making you whine at the loss of contact. 

Before you can protest, he’s walking towards the en-suite bathroom to draw you a bath, though the House is already one step ahead of him. There’s already a steaming bath running, along with a bottle of fae wine and two glasses sitting next to the tub, ready for the two of you to clean off. 

Azriel quietly thanks the House and returns to where you’re sprawled out on the bed. You give him a tired smile as he reaches for you, stroking your hair to get your attention. 

“Let’s take a bath before you fall asleep, alright?” he suggests and you nod, willingly letting him pick you up bridal-style to carry you to the bathroom.

You wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling against his bare chest as he carries you effortlessly, “I love you, my shadowsinger.” “And I love you, my lightsinger.”

taglist: @wrecklesssly @slutforwordsfr @georgiadixon @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout

[luludeluluramblings]

One thing I always wonder in Neglected! Reader scenarios that I haven’t seen anyone explore is Married/Single Mom! Reader. It’s drama and angst potential.

Like Reader having a boyfriend and getting pregnant while still living in the Wayne manor, and everyone just takes a little too long to figure out. Maybe they do find out early with the morning sickness and whatnot but the thought of Bruce looking at Reader like 6 months pregnant and being like “Wait a minute… 🤨” and Reader wasn’t even trying to hide it that much.

And same scenario except Reader moved out either while pregnant or got pregnant after, Batfam forgets all about them and when fate does bring them together (like the Bruce/Selina wedding concept) she is literally about to pop or has a whole baby with her. Cue Bruce (and later everyone else) losing his shit because omg??? 😧 that’s his first grandchild and he had no idea!!

… And then if the Reader is married in this scenario, makes it all the more complicated (she didn’t invite anyone to her wedding? what do you mean Alfred attended when we had no idea?). Everyone is straight up hostile towards her spouse (Damian, Bruce and Jason are insufferable) and safe to say he won’t be around for long. Single mom Reader though, the amount of emotional manipulation about kids needing a family and father figures and you should move back in so everyone can help with the baby… Yeah.

Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x SugarBaby!Reader x Older!Husband

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N:OOOOO, I have something I was working on that I was having fun with that you might like!

A/N:Neglected!Reader with Older!Husband. (It's husband because it's based of that meme Your daughter calls me daddy, too. And, Reader is Female, because we're making a baby in here.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You, sweet thing, do the typical thing and run off from home, once you turn the legal age. Checking in with Alfred on occasion, but just living your best life. Only, in typical fashion, all those years of neglect lead to severe daddy issues. And, a minor itty bitty attraction to older men.

You get lucky though because you manage to find a fine one that loves to spoil his baby girl with vacations and spa days. All the best for his baby. He loves taking you places and showing you a good time. So, it's no wonder he plans a Babymoon for you when you're expecting your first child. Anything for you.

Unfortunately, Daddy gets called into work right before the vacation. And, despite you insisting you stay, he makes you go and promises to join you as soon as possible.

(No, the man isn't cheating. He just gotta make the money for his baby.)

You have a good time, pregnant on the beach. Getting massages and spa treatments. Video calling your husband every time the baby kicks and flutters.

Unfortunetly, even though you haven't used the Wayne name since you've been married, some drug lords recognize you and decide to ransom you. Dragging you back to Gotham in your little sundress the just so hides your baby bump.

Gotham media runs with the story. Lost Wayne heiress held hostage. No one is ignoring that.

The bat's pull off a daring rescue, but you being stubborn, try to escape on your own. Fearing for your baby's life if they just happen to chose not to come. They never came when you were little, why would they come now.

You happen to injure yourself while escaping. But, manage to make it to an on scene ambulance while the Bats take care of the thugs. You happen to faint on the way to the hospital, leaving the doctor's discover you pregnancy.

Already the media is surrounding the hospital for the most drama filled story of the year. Thankfully, the paramedics have some compassion in hide the bump when rolling you into the ER.

With the media's attention, your husband flies into Gotham and makes it to the hospital just in time to ask the nurse where you are in front of Bruce.

Bruce, of course, bristles when a man his age burst in the hospital demanding to see you, but is using the wrong last name. The nurse saying only family can see you.

"That's my daughter," Bruce will say. Assuming this man is trying to claim you as his. But, he already did.

Making Bruce, the family, the nurses, the patients, and the reporter who managed to sneak in freeze when he says, "That's my wife."

Imagine the doctor that just finished checking on you and your baby walking in right after announcing that you were both okay. The look on Bruce's face when he realizes that this man, his age, not only married you, but had the audacity to put a baby in you.

Even better, the smug way your husband looks at Bruce when he brushes past him to follow the nurse to your room because husband beats father and you demanded to see him.

The drama that follows is going to be legendary.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I had this idea jotted down and fluffed it up just for this. I'm not sure you wanna know who I had in mind for Reader's husband. (Dude is from another franchise.) But, the thought of him interacting with Bruce as the guy who married Bruce's daughter and knocked her up, delights me in such a visceral way.

[flickering-chandelier]

Snow on the Beach

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: As soon as Cassian and Reader run into each other, she feels the bond snap into place. But feeling unworthy next to the famed Cassian, she keeps it to herself, assuming that he would never find out the truth. Before long, she finds that she was very wrong.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: insecure reader

Word Count: 4k

While walking Nyx to school on an early autumn morning, Cassian was certainly glad that the Illyrian soldiers could keep themselves in line for a day or two, giving him a respite to come home to Velaris and spend time with his nephew. It seemed to him that the boy was growing up far too fast; he could hardly believe that he was already in school. 

“So kid,” Cassian said, gently steering Nyx away from the street with a hand on his back, “tell me about school. Have you made any friends?"

Little Nyx grinned. “Yeah!”

“I bet the other kids think it’s cool that your parents are the High Lord and Lady, huh?”

He nodded, “At first, they all thought it was really cool. I think they’re getting used to it now, though. Now everyone is talking about how Astrid’s mom opened that new restaurant by the rainbow.”

Cassian laughed, unable to resist ruffling Nyx’s hair. “Well, they do have good food.”

Nyx agreed, and Cassian took the tiny hand in his own once the boy started veering toward the street again. “Do you like your teacher?” 

“She’s really nice,” he said. “She barely even gives us any homework.”

“Now, that’s a good teacher,” Cassian agreed. 

Nyx chatted idly with Cassian until they got to school.

Cassian was surprised to see a beautiful young woman standing near the front door, greeting the kids as they filtered in through the building. 

You smiled at Nyx as he and Cassian approached. “Good morning, Nyx! Who did you bring with you today?”

“This is my uncle Cassian,” Nyx said proudly, before turning back to Cassian and informing him, “This is my teacher!”

Teachers did not look like that when I was in school, Cassian thought. 

“Hi,” Cassian smiled, extending his hand. You took it, your eyes widening slightly when your hand touched his. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said. Cassian thought you sounded a bit out of breath. “Are you picking Nyx up today?”

Cassian said, “I am,” and was suddenly very glad for it. 

You nodded, still looking somewhat dazed. “Okay, we’ll see you this afternoon then.”

Nyx said goodbye and bounded into the building, but Cassian couldn’t help but feel like something was off. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look… a little pale, maybe?"

“I’m fine,” you said hurriedly. “Thank you.”

Cassian nodded. “Okay. Good.” Cauldron, why was he flustered now? “This afternoon, then. Have a good day. Good luck with the little ones.”

You laughed, thanking him, before Cassian turned away. 

---

You could hardly breathe. And he had known it too, which made everything so much worse. 

The last thing you were expecting today was to meet your mate three minutes before school started. 

Cauldron. How could the Cassian be your mate?

You were fairly sure you recognized him as he was walking up, but didn’t want to assume. The High Lord and his inner circle were well known here, of course, but you had never met any of them besides Rhysand and Feyre, and that was only because Nyx was in your class.

Cassian was unlike any male you’d ever seen before. His biceps were the size of your head. He could snap you in half like it was nothing. And yet he was holding little Nyx’s hand in his, walking him to school. 

Gods.

You were nervous enough about having the High Lord’s son in your class, but then a member of his trusted inner circle shows up, touches your hand, and the bond snaps into place?

And just like that, the commander of the High Lord’s army, the one that they’ve written entire books about, was your mate. 

Yet, here you were, teaching arithmetic to a classroom full of tiny children.

It didn’t make sense. You had never heard of the Mother making mistakes before, but surely this was one. Why would someone that powerful have a schoolteacher for a mate?

Cassian didn’t seem to feel it when you had. Surely you would have noticed if it had snapped for him at the same time. 

So, he didn’t know. And you figured it was better to keep it that way. You would sound foolish, telling this war hero that you were his mate. 

And it wasn’t likely that you would see him again after today, anyway. 

You just had to get through the day, and pretend that everything was normal. 

By the time parents were back picking up their kids, you had managed to put Cassian out of your mind. 

That is, until he showed up again, his massive wings tucked in closely behind him, his shirt spread tightly across his chest and his arms. Your heart leaped as you watched him make his way to the door. 

Your mate. He was yours. Or at least the Mother thought he should be. 

He smiled brightly when he saw you, and you immediately felt a pull on that invisible string that tied you to him. 

It was an effort to steady your breathing when he finally stood in front of you. 

Before you could say anything, one of your students ran into your legs from behind at full speed, causing you to stagger forward, into Cassian. He steadied you, his strong hands holding your waist, as your own hands involuntarily came to rest on his broad chest. 

Cassian looked into your eyes for a moment, the side of his mouth tugging up into a smile. You got lost in him for a moment, in those hazel eyes that you felt you could see the world in. 

Thankfully, you finally remembered where you were, and turned around and narrowed your eyes at your student. “Jan, buddy, we’ve talked about this.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, taking a step back. “I forgot.”

“I know you did, it’s okay,” you said, gently patting his back. “Why don’t you go play until your dad gets here, okay?” 

You turned back to Cassian as he happily scampered off. Cassian’s eyes were bright as he smiled at you. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. 

He laughed, gesturing around, to the dozens of squealing children. “This. Stay so calm, being in charge of all these kids while they’re yelling and knocking into you.”

You shrugged, unable to keep the smile off your face, being so close to him. “It’s not that bad. It’s nothing like what you do.”

Cassian smiled, glancing around at the chaos that surrounded you both. “Well, you might be surprised.” His gaze landed back on you and you felt it like a shock down to your toes. “If you ever want to help me out with the Ilyrians, let me know. You might be better at keeping them in line than I am.”

“I highly doubt that,” you laughed. “With kids, you just need to give them a snack and they’ll love you forever.”

He pursed his lips slightly, seemingly thinking this over. “I might have to try that.”

You laughed. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Promise,” he smirked. 

In that moment, you knew you could spend all day looking at him and never get bored. It scared you, that thought. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for him. There was no possible outcome that wouldn’t break your heart.

You cleared your throat, taking half a step back. “You’ll probably want to find Nyx.”

He nodded, as if he too had forgotten why he was actually there. 

As if on cue, Nyx bounded up, throwing his arms around Cassian’s legs. “Uncle Cassian!”

Cassian grinned down at him. “Hey, kid. Were you good for your teacher today?”

Nyx smiled shyly. “Yes.”

Cassian turned back to you, raising an eyebrow in question. 

You smiled, nodding. “He was.”

“Good,” Cassian said, ruffling Nyx’s hair, before turning his attention back to you. “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, though you doubted you would see him again. You tried not to dwell on that, on the fact that you had finally, finally found your mate, and you knew deep down that you could never have him. 

Cassian glanced back over his shoulder, smiling at you once more after he had left and your heart missed a beat. 

You desperately hoped that you would be able to go back to your real life, to forget about him.

---

Cassian couldn’t get you out of his mind after that day. The way you were looking at him… 

Maybe it was just that you recognized him. You certainly weren’t the only woman who had looked up at him with big doe eyes. 

So, why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

It wasn’t just that though, he knew, as you danced around his mind once again. You were clearly incredibly kind and sweet. And you were funny. 

He found himself smiling as he thought about you, and schooled his features back into his stern, commanding expression as he focused his attention back onto the warriors training in front of him. 

But before long, he was thinking of you again, wondering what kind of snack would make the stubborn, bull headed Illyrians slightly less annoying to work with. 

He would just have to focus, he told himself, until he could see you again. 

Rhysand had given him a questioning look when he had asked to take Nyx to school again, but agreed. 

It had only been a few days, but he was already itching to see you again.

He wondered if it was possible that you felt the same way. 

---

Before school, you always took it upon yourself to usher idle children into the building, making sure they got where they needed to be while parents were busy dropping them off and making plans for pick up. 

When you caught a glimpse of massive, outstretched wings, you felt a shock spark through your entire body.

Again? He was really dropping Nyx off again? 

It had only been a few days since you had last seen him. Not nearly enough time to catch your breath, to force thoughts of him out of your mind. 

That tug in your chest, that string urging you closer to him, was relentless. 

You understood now, how people had been driven to madness after their mating bond had been rejected. It took everything you had in you to stay put, to keep yourself from running to him. 

His bright smile as he approached, his eyes locked on yours, made your heart hurt. 

“Hey,” he said, ushering Nyx into the building with a gentle nudge. 

“Hi,” you said quietly, noticing now that nearly everyone had already gone inside or left. You were alone with Cassian. 

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Was he… nervous?

“So,” he said, then laughed lightly, turning his face to the mountains surrounding the city, scratching the back of his neck.

“Cassian?” You asked, confused, and honestly, slightly impatient. You only had a few minutes to get to your class.

He leveled his gaze back to you again, his eyes twinkling in the sun. “Do you want to get dinner?” 

That had not been what you were expecting, and you felt like your breath was completely caught in your throat. 

Cassian seemed to take your surprise for something else because he started talking again, quickly, like he couldn't get it out fast enough, “Unless you don't want to. It's not a big deal, I was just thinking --”

“Yes,” you cut him off, and he looked relieved, his taut shoulders visibly relaxing.

“You're sure?”

You couldn't keep the smile off your face. “Very sure.”

His face lit up with a grin then, and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning yourself. You balled your hands into fists at your sides, worried that if you didn't, you would launch yourself at him.

The two of you agreed on a time and a place, and then he was off, and you once again, had to go teach a classroom full of kids as if nothing remarkable had just happened.

By the time dinner with Cassian rolled around, you had convinced yourself that it was definitely not a date. Probably. 

Just… casual dinner between two people who barely knew each other. Acquaintances went out for dinner all the time, right? 

You forced yourself to take a deep breath as you waited outside the restaurant, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress that you had finally decided on, after trying on nearly every piece of clothing that you owned. 

It was a habit of yours to always arrive early, and yet, you only waited a few minutes before Cassian sauntered up to you, like he didn’t have a care in the world. For about the millionth time, you wondered how it was possible that the two of you had been chosen as mates. You couldn’t be more different. 

Cassian’s smile was bright when he was finally towering over you, greeting you with the usual pleasantries before placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you inside. 

Your heart pounded in your chest at the contact. He hadn’t touched you since that first handshake, the touch that made the bond snap into place for you, like nothing you had ever felt before. 

You wondered if it would do the same for him someday. What would his reaction be if he knew?

Disappointed, surely. Confused. Upset?

It was one thing to ask someone to dinner, but to be mates? To be tethered to somebody for life? You suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out. 

Your mind was spinning by the time the two of you took your seats, and his brow furrowed in concern as his gaze settled on you. “Are you alright?”

You tried to brighten your expression, cursing your face for always being so easy to read. “Fine,” you said, and the smile became easier, more genuine, the longer that you looked at him. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, I guess. It’s hard to shut it off.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. Do you want to talk about it?” 

You winced. “Not really. It’s not that interesting, anyway,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “How are you?” you asked, before you could accidentally reveal something you would regret. 

The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile, his gaze locked on you. “Why do you do that? Dismiss yourself so casually?”

“What do you mean?”

“You act like what you do isn’t important, or like your feelings don’t matter.” He leaned in closer, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him. “But it’s not true. You have one of the most important jobs… ever. And from what I can tell, you’re really good at it.” 

He relaxed his stance, leaning back in his chair again, his eyes never wavering from yours. “You don’t have to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you. But, I won’t let you act like it doesn’t matter, because it does.”

Stunned, you opened your mouth, completely unable to form a response. How could he read you so clearly? And why did he care so much?

Finally, all you could say was, “You don’t even know me.”

Cassian’s smile grew slowly. “I know enough. And I’d like to know more.”

The look on his face, the gravel in his voice, the words that he spoke, made heat rush to your cheeks. His smile only widened. 

“What do you want to know?”

---

Cassian couldn’t wipe the grin off his face after that date with you. You had talked for ages, the two of you, and he didn’t think he had ever been so enamored by somebody. You told him all about your family, your friends, how you grew up, your favorite hideout in Velaris, when you just needed to get away from it all. And he had done the same, admittedly, showing off a little with stories from being in Rhysand's trusted inner circle. 

But you didn’t fawn over him like some women did. You sat and listened, your eyes widening at all the right times, but it was like you really saw him. Not the version of him that people talk about in battle, but just… Cassian. 

And he really liked that. 

For weeks, you had consumed his every waking thought and, frankly, several of his dreams. The way you blushed when he smiled at you, the slight tilt of your head when you watched him animatedly tell stories, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him… all of it was driving him completely mad. He saw you as much as he could in those weeks, and though you seemed reluctant to show it, he could tell that you were excited to see him, too. 

Winter was almost upon Velaris, and the air was crisp, but the sun was bright as Cassian sauntered up to the school, hoping that your afternoon was free and he could steal you away for lunch. 

The sun's rays were shining on you like a beacon and he couldn't help but stare as you crouched down to be face to face with a kid, your smile bright as you undoubtedly said something encouraging to him. 

In that moment, he felt like the ground was swaying beneath him as the bond snapped into place.

The bond that tethered you to him, that confirmed what he had been feeling all these weeks, that proved you were meant to be his. 

For a moment, he was ecstatic, but that moment ended quickly as he suddenly remembered that first time you met, the way your eyes widened in shock as he touched you for the first time… you knew. You had known this whole time and you hadn't told him.

Did you not want to be his mate? Did you think it was a bad match? If that were the case, why on earth had you been spending so much time with him?

He stood frozen in place until the crowd of parents and kids had mostly cleared, his thoughts whirling.

Your eyes lit up when you noticed Cassian, but your face fell when you noticed his expression.

He could tell that you figured it out. That he knew. And that he knew you knew.

His heart broke as your eyes flooded with panic, and you turned from him, hurrying away without another glance.

Cassian followed, half debating flying above the city so he could see easier where you were going.

But before long, he knew your destination anyway.

You had told him weeks ago about the beach that you often went to when you needed to clear your head.

When he approached, you were sitting facing the river, your arms wrapped around yourself. The rocks beneath his boots cracked together and alerted you immediately to his presence, but you didn't turn around. 

He sat next to you, wincing a bit as a rock dug into his thigh, careful to tuck his wings in so they wouldn't brush against you.

Your eyes remained on the water for a few moments, a storm inside them. 

Finally, Cassian said, “Why didn't you tell me?”

Thinking, you bit your lip, and despite everything, it made his heart swell. 

“I didn't think you would want to know,” you said, your voice small.

It took an effort not to physically reel back like you had slapped him. He fought to keep his voice calm. “Why not?"

You let out a humorless laugh, still not so much as glancing in his direction. “Why do you think?”

Cassian furrowed his brow, wracking his brain for any indication he may have accidentally given you that would make you think he wouldn't want to be your mate, but he came up with nothing. “I don't know,” he finally said. “Did I do something?”

Your eyes finally met his then, and he felt the urge to cry for the first time in centuries. You looked so defeated, so pained. What had he done to make you react this way?

“No, it's not that, it's…” you bit your lip, your brow furrowed as you held his gaze. “Cassian, you're a warrior. You're in charge of armies, you're one of the most powerful Illyrians of all time, you've literally made history. And I'm…” you gestured to yourself, “I'm nothing compared to you.” You shook your head, facing the water again. “I hid it from you because it doesn't make sense. It must be a mistake.”

Cassian's heart pounded in his ears as he tried to make sense of it. “How could you think it's a mistake?” He said, his voice wavering, but he pushed past it. “How could you think that way about yourself?”

His heart broke when he heard you sniffle, still avoiding his gaze.

Gently, he took your chin between his fingers and urged you to look at him. “It's not a mistake,” he said quietly. “I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the moment I saw you. Do you know why?”

Your bottom lip trembled and you shook your head as much as you could while he was still holding your chin.

“You're incredible. You're endlessly kind and patient. You dedicate your life to helping kids and teaching them how to be who they're meant to be. There wouldn't be armies to lead or healers to fix us after battle, or anything else, if we didn't have teachers leading us along the way.”

Your eyes softened then, and Cassian nearly sighed with relief but he kept pushing, to be sure you would believe what he was telling you. “And gods, you're beautiful,” he smiled, stroking his thumb across your bottom lip. “You drive me crazy.”

A laugh bubbled from your throat and his heart leaped. He shifted his hands so they were cupping your face. “We're meant to be together, you and me. It's not a mistake. And I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that again.”

You nodded, smiling, looking up at Cassian with stars in your eyes. “I just can't believe you want me.”

“Well, believe it, because it's true,” he murmured, leaning in so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.”

He felt your breath hitch, and just then it started to snow lightly, the small flakes sticking to your eyelashes and in your hair.

“I want you too, Cassian,” you said quietly before cupping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him closer, bringing your lips to his.

Cassian couldn't stop his groan as he pulled you closer, kissing you the way he'd been wanting to for weeks.

When you finally parted to catch your breath, he pulled you to his side, and you rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked out across the water, the snow still gently drifting down.

It didn't feel real, that he had finally found his mate, the one he was meant to be with. And it was you, who had been consuming his thoughts since the moment you met.

He felt so, so unbelievably lucky and he prayed that you felt the same way about him.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @marina468 @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @azrielshadows1nger @andreperez11

[lqvesoph]

Kingsday || LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: when celebrating kingsday with your boyfriend lando ends with a small injury, and a call from his boss

masterlist

Your boyfriend being friends with a dutch DJ, meant one thing: party, party and party. Especially on Kingsday, a day where the dutch people celebrated the King‘s birthday, or got drunk on random boats driving down the channel of Amsterdam.

You had arrived about two hours ago. Lando immediately joined Martin at the DJ desk whereas you went to get some drinks for the two of you.

Now two hours later, Lando was still with Martin, or so you hoped because you actually haven’t seen him in over 30 minutes.

"Y/n!! Y/n come here!", a voice that you recognized as Martin called. You whisked around to find the dutchman waving frantically.

You frowned and excused yourself from your conversation before making your way through the mass of people. "What’s wrong?", you shouted. "It’s Lando, come!", Martin yelled and reached a hand out for you to take.

You gladly accepted his help to guide you through the people and to your boyfriend. And lord, you almost dropped your glass when you saw Lando.

"Baby!", a drunken smile graced his face. But that wasn’t the only thing. Before there were glasses and a ribbon in the dutch colours but now there was a white bandage wrapped around his head.

"Lando, what the hell happened??", you called, hastily placing your glass on a table and rushing to your boyfriend.

"I’m so happy you’re here", he slurred, placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you into a messy kiss. You returned the kiss for a second before pulling back, holding him upright and steady.

"Baby, can you explain what happened?", you tried to again, pushing back his curls. "There were SO many people", he giggled and you tried your best to stay calm and let him finish talking. "And then I tripped and then there was an elbow and glass and suddenly ow…", his face dropped towards the end and his fingers reached up to his nose.

You held his hand back. "Don’t touch, let me see", you muttered and removed the very badly done bandage. You held his chin to move his head to the sides to get a good look at his bloody nose.

"Does it hurt?", you asked, carefully touching the brink of his nose. "Nope!", Lando grinned proudly, making you roll your eyes. "Of course not, you’re drunk", you mumbled.

"Martin, can you get my bag please? It’s with Lando’s jacket behind the DJ pult", you explained to Lando’s friend who nodded immediately and went to grab your bag.

When Martin came back you pulled tissue and sanitizer out of the black bag and cleaned up the blood around Lando’s nose. "Are you like a professional?", a guy asked, nodding at the things in your hand and your firm grip on Lando’s chin. "Almost", you chuckled. "I’m studying medicine."

"Yeah, she’s gonna be a doctor!", Lando called proudly. "Shh", you firmly said snd squeezed his chin. "It doesn’t look broken, maybe bruised but you‘ll be fine", you delivered the verdict. "You‘re the best, thank you. I love you", Lando mumbled, leaning forward to connect your lips again. A few "Aww"s were heard around you which made you smile just as Lando‘s phone started ringing.

The boy fumbled it out of his pocket, only to find his boss‘ name on the display. "Oh oh, that means trouble", Martin muttered. Seeing as you weren’t as drunk as the rest of the people around you, your reaction times were way faster. And so you reached forward to grab Lando‘s phone out of his hands to answer the call yourself.

"Lando Norris, what on earth are-", Zak‘s voice roared through the speakers. "Zak, hi, it’s me Y/n", you quickly interrupted the American who abruptly stopped talking.

"Y/n? I didn’t know you are with Lando", he sounded surprised.

"Martin invited us over-" "There’s a picture of Lando bleeding and with a bandage circulating around the internet, care to explain the situation?", Zak interrupted you, getting straight to the point.

"I wasn’t with him when it happened but according to him and various people around him, he tripped and cut his nose. Martin got me soon after and I already took a look at his nose and he‘s okay. A bit bruised, going to cause a bit of pain when putting a helmet on but he‘ll be fine. Nothing‘s broken or anything like that", you broke down the whole story to Lando‘s boss while pushing your fingers through Lando‘s curls.

He let out a sigh and you could imagine him sitting in his office chair, rubbing the side of his head. "Okay, can I talk to him for a second?", Zak said and you nodded, leaning down to Lando and handing him the phone.

"He wants to talk to you", you muttered, putting the phone to his ear. "Hiii", Lando called excitedly, making you squeeze your eyes shut with a chuckle. "Noo, I swear I‘m okay even better than okay!", he assured his boss. "Zak, I‘m fineee! Y/n is taking care of me."

"Hey Zak, did you know that dutch people-", you pulled the phone back from his ear before he could spill some stupid shit. "I‘ll get him back home in one piece, I promise", you said, ruffling his curls. "Thank you, Y/n", Zak replied before saying goodbye.

You took a deep breath and put Lando‘s phone in your back pocket. The Brit leaned his head against your stomach and closed his eyes with a content drunk smile.

"You okay?", you whispered with a smile and tapped the back of his head a few times. Lando nodded against your stomach and then looked up at you, pouting his lips to let you know he wanted a kiss. You smirked and leaned down to connect your lips.

"Okay let’s get back!", he called enthusiastically and got up, swaying a little when he stood. You wrapped an arm around his waist, doing your best to steady him. Lando naturally put his around your shoulders.

"Let‘s get you a glass of water and then we can go back, alright?", you compromised with him and dragged him over to the bar, telling the guy to hand you a glass of water.

You thanked him and turned your body to Lando, holding the cup close to his mouth. "Here you go."

Lando took a few sips and then leaned closer to your ear. "I love you", he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You giggled and pulled him into a hug. "I love you", you replied.

"Let’s go back to Martin", he then called, making you laugh. "Oh and can I please get another Vodka Lemon?", Lando turned to the barkeeper who looked at you for approval. "Okay sure", he said when you nodded.

"Drink up, come on, hop hop", you clapped his waist a few times and nodded to the cup of water. Lando nodded and down the liquid in a few seconds before grabbing the fresh cup and taking the two of you back to Martin.

"What do you think Zak would say if I get behind that DJ desk?", Lando asked you. You chuckled. "He already called you once today because he worried you broke your nose so I don’t think it can get much worse", you replied making Lando laugh. "I‘ll just say you forced me to", your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips and walking around the desk to join Martin.

"Joining in again?", the dutchman asked, putting his arm around Lando. He nodded and was quickly handed the headphones. You chuckled, pulling out your phone to take a video of Lando pressing random buttons on the DJ desk. He grinned broadly when he spotted your camera on him.

"Come here, baby!", he called you over, holding the hand that wasn’t holding his glass. You put your phone away and took your boyfriend‘s hand.

He turned you around in a swift motion, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing your body to his. You laughed out loud at the action but let him sway you from side to side.

Taking a sip from your glass you carefully pushed your hips back into his. When you didn’t get a reaction from him you did it again, this time a bit firmer. "Once is a mistake, two‘s a choice", he muttered in your ear, making you giggle.

Lando moved one of his hand down to your stomach, pressing you against him while he swayed your hips. His lips being so close to your ear meant the small breathy moan that left his lips was only for you to hear.

You turned your head so your nose was pressing against his jawline. A small kiss against his skin made him smile.

It wad Lando‘s turn to press himself closer to your back. "Okay, baby, no funny business until later", you chuckled, placing your fingers on his hands on your stomach.

"Oh, so you can tease but I can’t?", Lando chuckled teasingly and turned you around. "You can tease all you want, as soon as we’re inside our own four walls", you whispered, leaning closer to his ear.

"Promise?", Lando smirked.

"Promise!", you laughed, pressing your lips on his in a soft kiss.

📍 Amsterdam, Netherlands

tagged: landonorris, martingarrix

yn: Kingsday well spent (+ Lando at the airport the next day🤭)

comments:

landonorris: Violation

> yn: U were the one who got injured…

> landonorris: U r the one who posted it

> yn: I was also the one who aided you

> landonorris: I- don’t have anything else to add🙃

martingarrix: Had the best time🧡

> yn: Thanks for having us!!

maxverstappen: Did my invite get lost orrr?

> yn: LETS GO OUT IN MIAMI!!

oscarpiastri: Mate, you looked DEAD

> landonorris: thanks a lot, MATE🙃

ybff: YOU LOOK GORGEOUS unlike a certain brit boy

> landonorris: hey!

fan: The way she still slayed at the club while Lando was wearing that neon ass hat😭

fan: All the Mclaren members laughing at sleeping Lando lmaoo

fan: Lando getting violated by his girlfriend and his girlfriend‘s best friend and his teammate😭

load more comments

[missaengg]

Falling for the Head of Onychinus

Day 8 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptations hosted by @xxsycamore Featuring: Love and Deepspace | Sylus x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, some fluff, car sex, hand jobs, semi-public sex, penis in vagina sex, alternate universe, not edited in the slightest... Prompts: Sex in a Vehicle | “Look at you, you're taking it so well.” A/N: OMG THIS TURNED OUT WAY LONGER THAN I EXPECTED, BUT I JUUUUST MADE IT FOR DAY 8!! 🙃 ao3 link here.

God, it was wrong. It was so wrong. You knew it was wrong. He was the head of Onychinus, the biggest crime syndicate in the N109 Zone, and you were a Hunter, sworn to uphold the law and bring him to justice. And yet… despite knowing how fucked you would be if The Hunter’s Association knew, you would find yourself once again in his bed or in a changing room or in a dark, seedy back alley or in his car moaning without abandon, writhing on his taut, muscular body with him deep inside of you. Because fuck, his touch did something to you. One look of that animalistic lust in his crimson eyes, and you melted into a pool of fervent heat practically begging for him to devour you until you were exhausted and spent.

Each and every time after you dragged your sinfully brutalized body back home, you would vow that would be the last time. Never again. Your resolve only lasting until he came around the next time.

Or so it was, until you realized you hadn’t seen a glimpse, not even a hint, of the infuriatingly arrogant crime lord in weeks though it felt like months. He had this annoying stalkerish tendency, and when he wasn’t within your direct view, you swore you would catch a glimpse of silver hair or hear the fluttering of a crow’s wings or catch the tail end of a sport motorcycle zooming off around the corner.

Nothing.

For weeks, nothing. Not a single silvery wisp. Not a single caw. Not the rumble of his bike. Not even when you were in his territory, patrolling the N109 Zone.

It was unlike him, and you were perturbed.

You had gotten used to looking for hints of his presence, used to catching tiny signs of him in the peripherals of your eyes, and just when you were starting to get restless, he would appear before you, with his smug smirk and sexy nonchalance, leaving you weak in the knees and shivering.

You checked the date on your phone, frowning once you calculated how long it’d actually been since you last saw the man, Sylus, how long it’d been since he had you bent over a grimy sink in the bathroom of a dingy club he found you in for Tara’s birthday, pushing your head against the foggy mirror and furiously thrusting into your mewling, sopping cunt.

One month. It had been one month and ten days since you last saw him, the longest it had been since he discovered you in the N109 Zone hunting him.

It occurred to you that you might actually miss him, or rather your body missed his delicious touch. After his absence, in the first week, you noticed a peculiar restlessness, a light stirring deep within your lower belly, a flutter of anxiety. In the second week, you felt a disconcerting thirst, a thirst that couldn’t be satiated no matter how many times you stroked yourself or slipped a few fingers inside. In the third week, you developed an aching throb between your legs, painful and distracting and only in want of release. In the fourth week, you found yourself occupied with thoughts of only one man, Sylus, dreaming about coming undone around his thick cock and waking up to a damp mess underneath. All to where you were now, feral and in heat, perpetually dripping, desperate for him to relieve you of this consuming obsession.

He was your addiction. And you were in withdrawal, frantically seeking your fix.

“Fucking bastard,” you huffed to yourself, still staring at your phone in the middle of sidewalk by a busy street within Linkon. “Stupid fucking bastard.”

“Who’s a stupid fucking bastard?”

You recognized that deep, silky voice. You’d recognize that deep, silky voice anywhere. You looked up from your phone to see Sylus lounging in an aggressive sports car, a Lamborghini Revuelto, stupidly expensive and powerful and luxurious and just like him.

“I thought I told you not to come around again,” you scowled, crossing your arms, hiding that you were in fact ecstatic he finally showed.

“That’s not what your body’s telling me, kitten,” Sylus smirked, his smug gaze salaciously trailing from your face to your thighs.

You looked down, cursing under breath at how firmly your thighs were clenched together. When did that happen? But good god, was that voice doing things to you. A blistering inferno was raging in your core threatening to overwhelm you in its desire to consume you whole. You could only hope your cheeks weren’t the same blazing furious shade of red as your needy cunt.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mmhmm.”

You stared at him defiantly, arms crossed, chin raised, waiting to see who would buckle first because it wouldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you.

“Are you going to get in the car or not?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?” he purred silkenly, a seductive mischievous gleam in his eyes, as if he were confident that you would ultimately end up in his bed that night.

No, you weren’t sure about that. You weren’t sure about that at all. You swallowed thickly, knowing it was over the moment he trapped you with those damn magnetic eyes. Your resolve was crumbling as quickly as he showed up in front of you wanting nothing more than to have him whisk you away and have his filthy, depraved way with you.

“I’m sure,” you hoarsely spit out, convincing no one, not even yourself.

Sylus said nothing. He simply sat there drumming his fingers on his leather steering wheel peering at you curiously with what appeared to be displeasure on his brow. You stubbornly stared back, feeling the seconds click away. A stalemate.

Finally, he clicked his tongue.. “Alright then, kitten. Another time then.” The car roared back to life.

You bit your lip, chewing on the soft flesh inside your lip. He couldn’t just leave, not like this, not after he disappeared for weeks leaving you a tight pretzel of a woman, but you also didn’t want to lose. Not again. The brake lights came on, a sign he’s shifted the car from ‘P’, and as he revved the engine–

“Wait!”

The revving stopped. Sylus, still facing forward, angled his head so he could peek at you.

“Why’d you disappear?”

Silence. You licked your lips and tried again.

“You were gone for over five weeks. Where were you?”

You watched Sylus with bated breath, heart pounding like a drum in your chest. His face betrayed nothing, not a hint of what he was feeling, what he was thinking.

Then a corner of his mouth curled up into a sly, cheeky smirk. There was a dark amusement dancing in his eyes, the force of which was rolling off of him in thick, heavy waves.

“Did you miss me?”

“No,” you whispered, more out of instinct, but also because you were loath to admit that you did miss him. You yearned for him more than you’d ever care to admit.

“Liar.”

Yes, you were.

“Get in the car, kitten.”

You hated it – and loved it – when he told you what to do, and he hated it – and loved it – when you refused to accede.

“Not… not until you tell me why you were gone for so long.”

Sylus huffed sharply. Your fists curled into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms in sharp mini lines of pain.

“I had to take care of business.”

“What kind of business?”

Sylus scowled, leveling his irritated glare on you. You forgot how intimidating the head of Onychinus could be, how ruthless the man who fucked you so tenderly could be.

“Nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“Sylus.”

A small, frustrated growl rumbled from Sylus who exhaled heavily, tapping the steering wheel with his pointer, and in an uncharacteristically subdued voice–

“I was injured, kitten.”

Something lurched in your heart when hearing his admission. Something about Sylus disappearing, about knowing he could potentially die on you someday unleashed an all-consuming fear you weren’t even aware you had. You blinked, surprised at the tears welling in your eyes, not enough to fall, but enough to display the dull ache that’s settled into your heart.

“Open the door.”

As soon as the door closed behind you, Sylus zoomed off in the direction of the illicit underground he called his home. You couldn’t keep your gaze off of him, scrutinizing his profile as if you were studying for an exam. He looked as he always did. There were no hints of scars or injuries. He wasn’t holding himself differently or hunched over in any kind of pain. Was it something mild if he recovered in five weeks?

“You should take a picture, kitten, it’ll last longer.”

Sylus still had that infuriating arrogant sneer on his face, but there was something a little more tender about the way he looked at you compared to the ravenous hunger from before. You looked out the window. It was dark and remote, one of the many abandoned roads on the way to the N109 Zone from Linkon City.

“Pull over,” you hoarsely commanded.

“Kitten?”

“Pull over,” you commanded once more forcefully.

Sylus wrinkled his brow in concern, but pulled the car off to the side, thankfully behind a grove of overgrown trees, not that it mattered. His car windows were tinted so dark no one would be able to see anything inside, especially at night.

“Turn off the engine.”

Sylus arched an eyebrow, but did as you asked without question. As soon as the car rumbled off, you were out of your seat, crawling into his lap the best you could despite the cramped interior, smashing your lips against him. Your tongue pressed urgently against him demanding entry, and when given, you wasted no time tasting him, exploring him with your tongue. Sylus hungrily pushed back, laying claim to your lips in a battle of dominating rapacious wills.

The seat fell back, and you squeaked as Sylus hauled you up like a ragdoll onto his lap. Once he had you settled and straddled across his hips, you dove back into fervently connecting your mouths in a dizzying torrent of kisses, losing yourself in the passionate flush of your bodies pressed together. His hands were in your hair, fingertips brushing your scalp as he threaded his fingers into knots, each brush a feverish tingle making its way down your spine and pooling into a slick arousal. Your fingers grasped blindly at his tailored, collared shirt, wrinkling the fabric with how hard you were gripping him. You wanted, no, needed him. You needed to feel the beating of his heart, the breath in his lungs, the warmth of his flesh. You needed to feel he was alive. You needed to fuck him.

Without separating, you began undoing the buttons of his shirt, fingers fumbling in your haste, the passion leaving your fingers clumsy and inept, struggling to pop the tiny plastic circles out of their buttonholes. You wondered if you should just rip the damn thing off of him, but then you had the fleeting thought that this shirt likely cost more than what you made in a single month.

“Let me.”

Sylus pulled his lips away and removed his hands from the tangled mess your hair had become, which you protested with a tiny whine, to do exactly what you considered, the heavy breathing filling the car interrupted by the clatter of flying buttons. Your eyes widened, the complete indifference of how easily he ruined his shirt spine-tingling arousing.

“Come here.”

Sylus guided you by the back of your head back down to meet him, this time capturing your lips with a softer, slower kiss, though it didn’t stay soft or slow for long, the intensity building back into a disorienting haze. His hands slipped under your sweater, leaving a trail of lingering fire as they roamed eventually finding their way to your breasts. You moaned into his mouth, his fingers pulling and pinching you sensitive. You ached for him, your slick arousal pooling in the apex of your legs. You ground yourself against the prominent erection in his pants, the friction of the fabric catching on his outline and dragging across your damp slit sending jolt after jolt of electricity up your back intensifying the pleasure you were drowning in.

“Fuck,” Sylus roughly grunted, the rocking of your hips against him chipping away at his composure.

Something inside of you snapped when Sylus grunted. You reached for his pants in a frenzy, undoing the button and yanking them down, whining when you couldn’t until Sylus lifted his hips up for you to free what you wanted, his throbbing cock. You abandoned your quest at pulling down his bottoms when you saw it spring free. Wrapping a hand around it, you thumbed the precum leaking out of his tip rubbing it on his frenulum, reveling in the sharp hiss he expelled at your teasing. You stroked him, slowly, sensually, gripping and releasing as you moved up and down.

“Kitten,” Sylus rasped, grasping your chin and planting a sloppy kiss. “Let me feel you.”

You kissed him back, nibbling along his bottom lip, absolutely tickled by the drunk, dazed look in his eyes, the way he was looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. Your chest was heaving, your breaths heavy with want. Hiking up your skirt, you pulled your underwear to the side, too impatient to contort yourself into a different position to pull them down. You rocked your slick pussy against his engorged cock, making sure your arousal coated him well, and it had to coat him well otherwise he wouldn’t be able to slide in due to his sheer size. Inhaling, you lowered yourself onto him, taking an inch of him at a time waiting to adjust to how deliciously he stretched you to your limits. Each inch sent Sylus groaning – shuddering, strangled groans, and when you finally bottomed out, the guttural grunt he uttered sent you keening, the combination of his pleasure mixed with your own sensation of being full having you see stars.

You moved gradually, gyrating against his pelvis, his pelvic mound stimulating your clit, his tip tapping your cervix just right. Sylus was gripping the sides of your hips, his large hands dwarfing your sides. His eyes were fixed on where you ended and he started, mesmerized by the way your cunt moved against him.

“Look at you, you’re taking it so well,” he breathed, voice thick with lust and desire.

He bit his lip, his eyes growing darker and darker with a savage glint. You’d seen that glint in his eyes before. It was always before he’d lose control, rutting into you as if he couldn’t get enough, when he’d let his carnal needs take over and claim you as his own.

“Fuck, kitten.”

He gripped you so tightly you let out a wanton cry, and you could only helplessly bounce on his lap when he took over, pummeling up into you fervidly, mewling cries falling off your lips as the sound of slapping skin filled the car. He was driving into you relentlessly, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, your mouth falling open into a sultry pout. He was driving into you so hard, you were sure your cervix was going to be bruised tomorrow morning, but you didn’t care, he was intoxicating. You were drunk off his cock, addicted to his cock, and no matter how many times he drilled into you, no matter how many times he brought you to climax, you knew you’d be back for another taste.

“Ngh… Sylus!”

You were close, so close. Your body was taut, every nerve on fire, the quiver of ecstasy building into a crescendo. Sylus nestled his head into your neck, licking and sucking on your tender skin, and then you reached the peak, shuddering uncontrollably, convulsing around him in a cacophony of dizzying bliss. You could barely see, riding the high of your climax while Sylus continued to rut into you rapidly, the feverish overstimulation rippling through you.

And then Sylus burst, his cock spasming in your warm pussy, flooding himself into you, spurts of his cum filling you with his warmth, all while calling your name in a throaty whisper in your ear.

Panting heavily, you slumped against his shoulder feeling his climax seeping out of you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, slick from sweat, and he planted soft kisses behind your ear, his other hand gently brushing back your hair, running his fingers through it to tame the mess he made.

You pushed off of him so that you were sitting upright, taking in every detail you could of his flushed, dazed face.

“Did you almost die?”

Sylus flinched, your question startling him out of his blissful reverie.

“Kitten, what do you mean?”

“When you said you got injured, did you almost die?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you asked the question, unsure if you were ready to hear the answer, heart pounding, brows knit together. Sylus gave you a lopsided grin, tenderly placing his hand on your cheek.

“No, kitten, I didn’t almost die.”

“Then why were you gone for weeks?”

You knew you sounded angry, but you weren’t angry, not really, or maybe you were a little. But more than that, you were worried. You were worried about the man you were supposed to be hunting, the man you weren’t ever supposed to fall for, the man who had the ability to derail your entire life in his hands.

“Because, kitten, I didn’t want you to worry.”

Your mouth dropped open. You expected a lot of things, but you didn’t expect that. Not that. Not that what you were sure was just animalistic fucking had turned into something else entirely, not just for you, but him as well. Not that the infamous head of Onychinus might actually care for you.

“That’s silly,” you muttered, a faint blush dusting your cheeks, averting your gaze from him.

“As silly as you worrying about me?” Sylus chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and tantalizingly through you.

You pouted, because it was, this whole thing was silly. You were a Hunter for god’s sake. This was unprofessional and wrong and fucked up and yet so deliciously wonderful and sinfully good and thrilling.

“I hate you.”

“I like you too.”

You sighed, annoyed, but that didn’t stop you from leaning down and snuggling back into his chest hearing his heartbeat in your ear, the sound soothing your anxiety. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to let go in his embrace. There was a lot you had to think about, but tonight… tonight all you wanted was to be in his arms in his bed.

Tomorrow. You would think about everything else tomorrow.

[missglaskin]

Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons

AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers

Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon

Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers

You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.

Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.

Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 

They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.

Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.

As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 

Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.

While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.

Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.

Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.

That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.

They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.

Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.

Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.

Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.

Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.

Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 

The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 

A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.

Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.

A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.

Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.

Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 

As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.

It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 

The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 

Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.

[angxlofvenus]

Hii! I saw your requests were open and I thought I'd give you a hc/fic idea:

The brothers (or whoever you'd like to write for) reacting to Mc using their shampoo/ soap in the shower for whatever reason ^^

I hope this makes sense to you lol, anyways I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, don't push yourself too hard, and drink water!! You can also take any creative liberties you seem fit, or if you decide you don't want to write it I won't be offended ^^

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Thank you so much for the request!! This is absolutely adorable, I hope everything is to your liking, Have a great rest of your day/night !! Genre: fluff Ship: Reader x brothers + Diavolo (individual headcanons) TW: clingy demons, minimal cussing, no use of readers' pronouns, second-person pov

When You Use Their Shampoo

Stepping into the shower, You were greeted with the nice hot/cool water raining from above, Going to start your routine, You reached for your shampoo bottle only to find it empty! Looking around you spotted his shampoo and conditioner, surely he wouldn’t mind… right?

Lucifer

100% smells it on you no matter how little you used

Won’t tease you in public but as soon as ya’ll are alone? Ho ho, he’ll never shut up about it

Smug, the definition of smug

You had to go and inflate the ego of The Lord of Pride even more

Very possessive afterwards

Congrats, You know have a scary guard dog demon!

Mammon

He probably wouldn’t even really notice at first

He’d probably compliment how good you smell, Then would slowly realize…

Great, Now he's yelling gibberish while his face slowly gets redder and redder

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, don’t do that to me!” But will become very clingy

If you say his shampoo smells good, he may lose his mind.

“Well of course ya wanted to smell Like the great Mammon!” 

Levi

Poor awkward nerd

He never saw this coming

I think he would realize you used his shampoo but won’t say anything

Flustered to the max

You have broken him

Levi.404 has stopped working, please reset.

After like the third day, You’re gonna have to bring it up

Secretly really likes it, Won’t tell you that though

Satan

I think he is very picky about scents so he knows as soon as you walk into the room

A little bit of a tease, asking if you were trying out a new shampoo

Smug 2.0 

He would tease you a little bit around the others but not bad

He would flood you with compliments, You using his shampoo would make him very lovey-dovey

Expect him to ask for ya’ll to just use the same stuff from now on

Asmo

Oh honey, he knows.

He knew before you even got out of the shower.

But that doesn't mean he's any less excited!

Better plug your ears because he will let out the loudest squeal known to mankind

Seriously, Lucifer may come and check on ya’ll helicopter mom

Asks what you do and don’t like about it

He just wants you to feel as fantastic as he does when using it

Everyone will know you used his shampoo, He brings it up in every conversation

Would also 100% ask you to use his bath products 24/7

Beel

Now Beel has never been really into insane products like Asmo or Luci

So he may not really recognize it at first

If you decide to tell him, This man will become a happy demon puddle

He’ll give you a big smile and tell you you’re free to use any of his stuff at anytime

We don’t deserve Beel

Will bury his face into your hair and just stay there

Takes you out to Hell’s kitchen that night just because he loves you so much

Belphie

Oh this little shit

Tease! He won’t quit bragging!!

Smug 3.0

Such a brat about it too, He won’t let anybody near you, Well of course he’d let Beel, but who wouldn't?

He has practically locked you up in the attic with him

Why go outside when ya’ll can cuddle? 

Diavolo

Has really expensive products 

He may even have a custom scent

If so, He’ll know instantly that you’ve used his shampoo

He’ll bring it up with a large grin on his face

When you confirm his suspicions, he’ll just laugh

He’s so happy ya’ll are close enough to share things like that, You have no idea!

He may make a sly comment to Barbatos or Lucifer just because he’s a little possessive

Will follow you around like a lost puppy, Now Barbatos is mad at you because even less of his work is done

He can’t help it! He just loves you!

Will be the third on my list to offer ya’ll to just share bath products

[kinichval]

all at once, everything is different

he finds no meaning in celebrating the day of his birth (or creation), yet this year he finds himself whispering a wish — please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh he can recognize anywhere.

content. wanderer x rtawahist!fem!reader, wanderer is addressed as hat guy, reader can see aranara, not dating but clearly in love ykwim, one (1) kiss, hat guy hates his birthday, not-so-mean because his soft spot is showing lol, mediocre writing, slight angst if u squint. | 3.5k words

“hat guy, you have a visitor!”

the said man groans and shuts his eyes, displeased with the interruption. if ignoring the knocks were not enough to convey the message, then he will not be liable for his harsh tone over the unwanted company.

except, well, the visitor on the other side of the door happened to be his new friend — durin.

wait, what the fuck is he doing with nahida?

“hat guy!” the little dragon's enthusiasm explodes across the room. he quickly flies over to the indigo-haired scholar, taking a peek at the paperwork on his desk. “what are you doing?” his curiosity is rather adorable, though hat guy would not let that thought slip out his lips (and hopefully the dendro archon wouldn't attempt to read his mind).

“i'm working on a new thesis.” he simply responds, durin lets out an innocent ‘woah’ although he knows he doesn't fully grasp the concept. nahida giggles; the thesis proponent has been cooped up in this room for days, it's a given that scholarly papers and academic writing generally takes months before completion, but it's also clear to her that his response was merely an excuse.

“let's go out, hat guy!” durin initiates, flipping in the air as excitement rushes through his little body as he expects his first friend to agree — only to frown when hat guy scoffs, “i'm busy right now. let's plan another time.” hat guy hopes the compromise would convince his dragon friend to leave him alone and so will the dendro archon.

but no, both of them are determined to reign victorious against his convictions.

hat guy knew what day is it today, he sighs heavily, eager to stay put in his lair doing whatever academic duty there is just to avoid the light of day and utmostly reject the idea of celebration.

it's as if a simple greeting of ‘happy birthday’ bears no sense of something, it feels awkward to receive such words when he feels nothing about the beginning of his existence. was he supposed to say ‘thank you’ when in the first place it's an unsolicited message?

one of these days, he's sure to receive a smack on the back of his head if this attitude continues.

(he'll just protect his head then.)

(unless the prevailing lord of sumeru casts a more perilous punishment when he wears her patience thin.)

durin's crimson eyes dulls, the drop in his float and lowered head presents his broken heart, “allow me to go through your progress and i'll leave my own criticisms, take it as a partial checking. we wouldn't want to finish a thesis then realize the whole paper is wrong, would we?” nahida suggests, her eyes round and pleading. hat guy stares down at his desk, almost praying to some other god — probably the anemo one, though he doesn't have much faith in the freedom archon — to make nahida and durin realize that he is unavailable at the moment.

“come on, hat guy, today looks like a good—” nahida's words are immediately cut off when hat guy finally looks at their gazes, “fine!” he abruptly stands up with his palms on the desk, the split second of his widened eyes being enough evidence for nahida to see his true feelings without needing to use her mind-reading prowess.

“really?!” durin's eyes sparkle and wings flap in triumph, hat guy groans in defeat, and nahida smiles brightly. “but i'll decide when the day is over.” his tone is as cold as his color palette, but durin does not complain about his condition, his little cheers soften hat guy's bleak exterior.

hat guy detests walking around the heart of sumeru during this time of the year, he remembers in the previous year when akademiya students ambushed him just to get him to blow a sickeningly sweet birthday cake. he lowers his head, until now he can't fully comprehend the nature of birthdays and its significance — for mortals, it may be because their lifespans are merely a flick of a finger compared to non-human races.

he has already lived for so long and will continue to do so, but what part of birthdays satisfy fulfillment if he rejects it himself? it's even so absurd that he is expected to extend gestures to others on his own day.

“hey, hat guy, do you know those tiny things with hats and a smiley face?” the little dragon's query snaps hat guy out of his zoned out state, he momentarily pauses to think what creatures he is referring to before furrowing his brows at the unsure conclusion in his mind, “what things?” the boy envisions the forest spirits around sumeru, the aranara. he doubts durin means the smiles as they do not have a smile, still he remarks those elemental clusters as cute.

“those little things! with hats like yours!” durin tries his best at composing his description, “wait, they have pointy hats, yours is flat.” his voice is small at the realization of the difference in design, “you should know what i mean, right?” he flies right in front of hat guy's face, hoping that his thoughts will get through to his friend.

“perhaps you mean the aranara? they're plant-like forest spirits in sumeru. where did you see one? they don't often show themselves as i've known.” hat guy explains, he sees the bright grin on durin's face, the sight melts him.

he knows the aranara only allows their presence to be known by children (adults can see them but terms and conditions must be met first, e.g. the traveler), and deep down he hopes for durin to take sight of those little things. he believes that durin is a child at heart, not only his small size and curious nature, but his core is akin to a little kid who dreams and hopes.

“they're called aranara? it sounds adorable!” durin giggles, “i saw a couple of them tailing behind the archon! do you think i can befriend them?” hat guy smiles, his sentiments mirroring durin's aspirations. “you can go find them and ask for a friendship contract.” he smirks, obviously teasing the little dragon, though his words carry genuine wishes for durin to create friendships.

“do we like call for them? i want to talk to one!” durin's eagerness at meeting the aranara spreads warmth in his chest, “you have to be patient. they'll appear whenever they deem right.” hat guy responds, he's not entirely knowledgeable about their decisions when or when not to appear, but he knows enough that the aranara values the people of sumeru — even if they're unseen, they're the nation's closest companion.

and he's assured enough that the aranara will welcome durin just as much as he was accepted as their friend.

“there you are!” a deep voice pipes up nearby, durin hastily flies behind hat guy to hide from the unknown voice. “who's there?” the little dragon closes his eyes, the fear of being judged is still within him, hence hat guy extends out both his arms as an act of protecting durin as his gaze seeking out who had spoken to them.

the general mahamatra comes to sight, albeit the most distinguishable factor for hat guy is the tall ears poking out from his hat. his right eyebrow is raised, posing a skeptical expression at the big-eared hat guy's presence and intentions with him.

“ah, the famous hat guy of the vahumana darshan. i believe you remember me from the interdarshan championship last year?” cyno utters, there's a prideful look on his face that makes hat guy even more wary of where this is going. “i recall our sparring moments during the competition, yes, you were the representative for spantamad.” hat guy responds, he knows this man is a big persona in the nation although he couldn't dig it in his memory what his name was.

“speak your intentions, i do not have the luxury of time right now.” hat guy asserts, he watches as cyno takes a deep inhale — and wonders what it's for — before he takes hat guy's hand and slaps down a stack of cards (dear archon, how did he manage to hide a tall stack?)

“do you know about genius invokation tcg? i've been meaning to find you and discuss the game. i have high hopes that you'll be a prodigy of a player, so please hear me out. i have read a few of your research, i applaud your intelligence and critical thinking for curating reasonable claims and powerful arguments. you know what else uses the same strategy? tcg! with your keen observation, wits, and quick analysis, i'm sure you'll be sumeru's second best player — i'm the first, of course — please accept my offer and play with me, i assure you that it is an efficient mental exercise outside of the akademiya. furthermore, playing with others allows a space for building relationships and strengthening bonds. what do you say, hat guy?”

oh, cyno definitely needed that deep inhale. hat guy, on the other hand, is bewildered.

“hat guy, what is he talking about?” durin whispers in his ears, still out of sight.

“you should take upon his offer, hat guy. not only will you gain friends in sumeru, but also acquire a reputable image across teyvat.” the green-eyed desert guy (who hat guy knows as the one who's oddly interested in his hat) shows up and backs up cyno's claim.

right now, he feels like nahida casted him in some weird dream spell because what the hell is going on?

hat guy scoffs, “only brains as small as a sweet flower seed would reckon that a measly card game is enough to be a backbone of life-and-death bonds.” still, the stack of cards remained in his hand.

as if cyno was about to take no for an answer, “keep the stack, hat guy. maybe one day you'll have a change of mind, come find me if you find it in yourself to admit that this game is—”

“hat guy!” another voice pops up in the scenario, but rather than having his guard up higher, hat guy's shoulders seem to relax upon hearing your voice.

as you enter the scene, you immediately realize the situation. there's a look of dread in hat guy's eyes that shows his disagreement towards card games. “general mahamatra, pardon for the intrusion, but please do excuse hat guy and his… displeasure with tcg. i'm sure there are other skilled scholars who are more interested in playing a match with you.” you intervene, a nervous laugh at the end because despite this silly interaction, cyno still holds a high position and you know the power this man has.

cyno was about to respond, but sethos — the green-eyed desert guy — beats him to it, “apologies, my lady. the general here just wants a formidable opponent because apparently i don't play enough tcg.” sethos explains as he casually points his thumb at cyno, “i'm not interested to be your opponent.” hat guy coldly rejects.

“no! you will play tcg with me one da—” sethos covers his mouth that he almost stumbled backwards, they bicker among themselves.

“hey, yn! long time, no see!” you hear durin's little whisper, you assume he's hiding behind hat guy, a giggle passes your lips and the endearing thought. “hey, durin. i missed you!” for a moment, you reminisce the first time durin visited the real world — you met him them as he and hat guy relayed to you the tales of simulanka and all the shenanigans that occurred.

“anyways! hat guy, you know you'd be so cute with your hair tied up.” sethos grinned, the change in topic also brightened up his aura however it only dimmed hat guy's. he takes off hat guy's hat, now he's just guy, and his fingers swiftly grabs a portion of his midnight-hued hair and ties a little bun.

and the cherry on top, a bow.

“...tch.”

hat guy never had his hair tied, you had played with a few strands whenever he lays down on your lap, but that's the closest his hair ever got touched. mini durin struggles to hide his laughter at the sight of his best friend's angered face being ten times more adorable with the new hairstyle.

he's extra convinced that this is just another dream simulated by nahida.

“i wonder what you would look like with your hair braided.” you giggle, envisioning different styles on his jellyfish-like haircut. “whatever it is, don't.” hat guy rolls his eyes.

you, hat guy, and mini durin continue to walk to whoever knows where, your path has strayed away from the city but it's no issue when hat guy finds relief in not having to be jumped on by scholars.

along the way, laughter and banter were thrown back and forth. “don't pretend it's erased in history that you broke my favorite pen!” you nag him, “it was already cracked, it just happened to break apart in my hand!” he defends himself, this argument has been going on for months now, it's your personal grudge against him that you bring up whenever he tries to drag you down.

“it's raining!” durin points out as the rain loudly splatters on the ground, “oi!” hat guy yelps as you take his hat and hovers it over your heads. “c'mon it's big enough.” you reason out, he sighs and rolls his eyes, durin is in between you two as you walk to find a better shelter.

until a small meow catches your attention, as if on instinct, your eyes darts toward the sound's origin. it didn't take long to find a small cat inside a pot, wet in the rain. the little guy seemed to be alone with no owner or parent cat around.

and it didn't take another thought for hat guy to grab his hat and cover the white cat's head, leaving you and durin exposed to the rain, “i'll take you to the shelter. follow me if you want.” he says, but instead picks up the cat in his arms — talk about personal autonomy, no?

shortly, he returns to you and durin, the hat barely covering your group but settles with whatever his hat can provide. it's a wondrous sight, no words were spoken at this moment, even durin who enjoyed conversing let the serene silence overpower the rainfall.

and hat guy realizes that not a word had fallen off your lips about his birthday. you certainly had not forgotten, right?

suddenly, his chest feels empty, which is weird enough for he doesn't even possess a heart. a human heart. his ribs feel tight, as if clenching on nothing; he doesn't understand the anomaly taking place within his core, the cat meows and snuggles against his chest, serving as a temporary remedy for the internal ache.

sometimes you were infuriating. not for reasons that are shallow and certainly he doesn't wish for your demise; he finds you the cause of the berserk inside him, for whenever you two are within each other's parameters, suddenly he's at ease and for some reason that he time and time again fails to provide an answer for, troubled.

dear archons, hat guy could almost solve all of sumeru's political issues — if he dared to — but this predicament that involves you bears no fruition to his efforts in understanding the effect you have on him. the lack of an emotional organ within him feels more and more apparent when there's a rampant of feelings flowing in his blood.

is this what a heart is for?

“the sky's clearing up!” durin beams, flying forward. “don't fly too far, you don't know where you're going.” hat guy scolds the little dragon who muttered an apology and returns close to him. 

you settled in an abandoned hut, based on the nearby surroundings, it's safe to assume you're around the region in between avidya forest and vanarana. “are you hungry little guy?” durin converses with the lone cat that chooses to stay on hat guy's lap, rendering him immobile until the cat is satisfied with its rest.

“say, durin, do you know what today is?” you ask the dragon, he tilts his head in response, “hat day, is today a special day?” you softly smile at how closely tied durin is to hat guy, you've known him since the day he started as an akademiya student, you were together at the same table in the library. he wasn't the sociable type, he made that clear, but you were persistent to break into his personal bubble until you finally claim a spot in his vicinity.

“it's just a normal day.” hat guy rolls his eyes, but the slight tint of pink on his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed. for hat guy, you were like a cat that demands to be paid attention to, a ginger-colored one that he can not seem to predict. 

“really? the sun seems to be too bright just for today to be normal.” he's confused, were you about to break open the forest and have the entirety of sumeru to sing him a happy birthday or there's something else up your sleeve that he can't guess.

“is that an aranara?!” durin squeals upon the sight of a blue aranara walking towards the group, hat guy follows durin's line of sight and spots not just one or two, but a small group of aranaras… and origamis?

his brows furrowed in disbelief, “what's going on?” hat guy looks at you with a puzzled face, you want to snort at his expression because clearly he's trying to avoid his birthday.

and you were not about to let him disregard his day like that.

the army of aranara and origami surrounds hat guy, the aranara orients a necklace of origami flowers around his neck. their little squeals speak of their joyous sentiment for this moment, a moment that belongs to hat guy.

“happy birthday.”

hat guy is stuck in a trance when he finally hears you say it.

“happy birthday, hat guy!” durin exclaims, he's flipping in circles, finally releasing the words he desperately tried to hide since he saw him.

“happy birthday, blue nara!”

“happy birthday, hero of simulanka!”

hat guy puts his hand on his chest as the greetings continue to echo in his ears, is this what happiness feels like?

“thank you.” he simply responds, clearing his throat to regain his usual composure. 

“we have gifts for you!” you crouch down in front of him, a big smile on your face. you gesture the aranaras and paper squirrels to come forth, they carry boxes filled with secret stories whose main character is hat guy.

“i got one too!” durin flies down to sit beside hat guy, his own little gift in his embrace.

“why would you celebrate my birthday?” his voice falters as he lets the question fly past his lips, “because i care for you, hat guy. you're special to me.” you simply reply, hoping that it delivers the deeper meaning of his existence to your life.

you love him, you will forever do so.

hat guy hums, unsure how to reply when he's fighting his innermost turmoil of crystalflies. he resorts to opening the gifts instead, one box containing a hand-crafted paper doll of himself, the enraged expression has him instinctively mirroring the same look, “is this how you see me?” he scoffs, but they let him tell his rough comments and cold feedback as he continues his unboxing spree.

“i've got plenty of unusual stuff from you and you still haven't run out of ideas? even durin has his own contribution.” he sighs, his indigo orbs lingering on the gifts you prepared. the stack of tcg cards from cyno still in his possession.

“because you deserve to be reminded that you're loved and wanted.”

loved and wanted, huh?

hat guy quietly apologizes as he moves the cat off his lap, he leans down to you and his hands cup your cheeks. “last time i checked, you're one of the top rtawahist students, but i must refute your claim on that one.”

“then i'll defend my argument, the absence of a physical heart does not restrict your emotional intelligence and morale. your ribs may not house an organ, but your embrace has proven otherwise.”

you may not know the burden that he hides underneath his facade or the weights that made him believe that love is an outerworldly entity, but one thing you will attest to is the hat guy who knows how to love.

even if it takes years for hat guy to realize and admit that he loves, you will continue to be the one to assure him that it's alright.

for the love he yearns and continues to long for is the birthday gift you promise to give him every year. for as long as you live, and in every reincarnation, you will love hat guy.

hat guy covers durin's eyes as he leans down to collide his lips on yours. the crystalflies in his stomach explode, but it's soon replaced with fulfillment. maybe, he doesn't need a heartbeat to tell him that he can love when he's capable of choosing to love.

there's light in his life when you arrived that one afternoon asking what thesis he was working on, there was you who appeared to hold him when the akademiya felt suffocating, and there will always be you beside him who loves and teaches him love.

if the dendro archon is reading his mind right, he would like to say that he doesn't feel lonely now. he has you now. and even without a birthday cake, he'd like to make a wish: please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i can recognize anywhere.

“it seems like you're the one who's looking forward to my birthday.”

[bellarkeselection]

Hey could you write for Daemon targaryen like while he's being haunted in harnehal he finds his comfort in a prisoner and falls in love with her targaryen type of love and obsession and he married her like his second wife something he listens to her obeys her admires her while he fights war for rahaenya right guess she isn't happy with their marriage but have to accept as he's crucial for her but later on when they're leading she asks him her head so they both escaped with caraxes alive to anywhere you want

His Compass of Harrenhal

Tag list - @only4thefics @superintenseart @universallyrascaldreamercookie

This request will have a couple of parts to it so enjoy and if you want to be added send that below in the comments 😊

I could hear footsteps slowly coming through the castle that I was forced to be a prisoner in. Not physically but mentally inside my mind for years and years to come. Sneaking through the hallway near the kitchen I raised my sword until I jumped around the corner feeling the cold tip of a sword against my throat. “Show yourself you ghost!”

“Not before you reveal yourself first!” I heard a deep man’s voice shifting my gaze up to meet his purple eyes that could only belong to a Targaryen.

I gulped slightly nervous that I must still be having another nightmare. “What is your name, ghost?”

“I’m no ghost, strange woman. I am Daemon Targaryen. The future king of the Seven Kingdoms. Now who the hell are you!” He growled under his breath glaring his eyes deadly in my direction.

The tip of my sword was pointed up against the fabric of his tunic shirt while he had his sword end up against my throat. Both of us never lowered our weapons while we spoke to one another. “My name is Y/n, Y/n Tully. I was wed to the late lord of this castle until I started hearing and seeing things that didn’t make sense. I’ve been attempting to escape ever since he called me a witch.”

“He’s named you a prisoner then?” Daemon raised a brow at me.

Shaking my head, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. “I’m not quite sure anymore. I haven’t been able to trust my own mind to tell me what is real and what is fake for far too many years. Why are you here, if you’re truly here.”

“Have you known any of these ghosts you see to ever have a sword pressing against your throat.” He questioned me.

I replied, beginning to lower my blade off of his chest. “I can’t say that they ever have.”

“Then we may not be alone in whatever is going on inside this dreadful castle.” He placed his sword back in his belt, walking into the kitchen and I followed him knowing it was probably a better option then going back alone to my old chamber room. I couldn’t stand the idea of being a prisoner here anymore than I already had because I feared I wouldn’t make it through another night on my own. Not without Daemon by my side.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been staring into the burning flames of one of the candles I was holding in one hand and my sword tightly clenched in the other. The rain hadn’t stopped at all during the day and I didn’t believe it was going to stop throughout the night either. Hearing footsteps coming into the chambers I scrambled to my feet I spun around aiming my blade towards the shut window until someone put their hand over my mouth causing me to go into fight or flight mode. “Get your fucking hands off of me - gah!” I screamed attempting to cut the ghost with my blade.

“Gīda ilagon. Gīda ilagon, issa klios ābrazȳrys ( Calm down. Calm down, my fish wife ).” I sucked in a breath feeling the tension in my body beginning to fade recognizing the voice that spoke in my ear.

Closing my eyes I paused lowering my sword asking him a question. “Issi ao se vala nyke call issa zaldrīzes dārys? ( Are you the man I call my dragon king? ).”

Daemon’s voice whispered in my ear, hot breath framing on the side of my neck. “Kessa, issa byka ābrazȳrys ( Yes, my little wife ).”

“Daemon!” I squealed out in such a relief flinging my arms around his neck letting my sword clank to the floor without a care in the world knowing that he wasn’t in fact another ghost attempting to haunt my mind night after night.

He wrapped his arms around my waist clinging onto me like he needed me to physically breathe. He buried his nose into my hair barely letting some tears be shed from his eyes. “Y/n.”

Unaware of how long we had been there together we had come up with our own secret code system that we made sure no one else knew except for the two of us and us alone. He was fluent in high valyrian and very few people who weren’t a part of the Targaryen family could speak it. So he would teach me every chance he could when he wasn’t trying to raise an army for his queen and former wife Rhaenyra.

“Touch me, Daemon.” I muttered under my breath barely pulling away from his embrace. Needing just a tiny bit more proof that it was truly him.

He moved his hands up to cradle the sides of my face in his own hands , crashing his lips down onto mine in a very deep kiss leaving me breathless when he broke it. “I’m here, Y/n. Your dragon husband is right in front of you.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck I drew him in for another long kiss. He threaded one of his hands into my hair drawing out a moan from me. We remained attached to one another making our way back to the bed where I collapsed onto my back with him hovering above me.

Wrapping my arms around his neck I went to kiss him but a loud knock came from the other side of the door. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.”

“I’ll go tell the asshole to leave.” Daemon got up from the bed, flinging the door opened seeing the caretaker of Harrenhal. “What the hell do you want this late hour!”

The man extended his hand holding out a letter. “A letter from Dragonstone, my king.”

“Who’s it from?” I asked him sliding down off the bed walking over to him, taking it from his hands and tearing it open. I began reading it aloud since Daemon seemed to be in no mood for any company tonight except for me. “Dear Daemon, I have been wondering how the search for men for my army is going. It’s been quite a while since I’ve heard anything from you so this is me asking for an answer. I need more men to secure my throne and my birthright. Keep your word and loyalty to your queen and wife , Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

“You’re first wife. She’s the one the late king Viserys named his rightful heir right?” I asked him sitting the letter down on the nearest table.

Daemon lowered his purple eyes to meet my gaze. “She’s actually my second wife. My first died on her horse, then her until the night I met you in this castle. I need to give her an army to help her take the throne back.”

“You’ll need the support of the Riverlords. House Tully controls how loyal they are. I can speak to Lord Grover for you.” I draped my arms over his neck and he put his hands on my hips bringing me closer to his body.

Daemon smiled widely down at me, kissing me deeply a second time not caring the lord was here. “Brilliant and beautiful I certainly won with you Lady Y/n Tully.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

☾ summary : Rome has never been the same since Emperor's Geta wife died, can you bring back the life he has before?

☾ pairing : Widowed!Emperor Geta x Servant!FEM!reader

☾ wc : 18+ MDNI angst, slow-burn, struggling with grief, fluff, smut, aftercare <3, Geta refers reader as "lass", discrimination, cursing, slight harassment, attempted poisoning, allusions to sexism and misogyny, appearance of General Acacius & Caracalla, hostile, aggression, no use of y/n, historical inaccuracies, reader is intelligent and different among the others

☾ agatha's masterlist ☾

"Leave me be!"

"Sire-"

"I said leave me be!"

The consul's scrambled everywhere as they quickly exited the room, numerous chatter swirled the area, he is upset yet again, it appears so

"Rome will fall, if he can't do his culpability" the patrician speak as he smirks taking a sip of his wine on a chalice

"Says who drowned themselves in leisure, yes, you have the power but you patricians who doesn't even contribute to this society, meaning you have no use at all!" one of the consul's spits venom that provoked the man in front of him as they clashed together in a heated argument that turned into a fight

"Enough of this foolishness!"

All of the men stopped abruptly as they saw who walked by

"The emperor is not in the mood for political talk as of the moment, so, all of you are dismissed!"

"Apologies, General Acacius" the member of the consul's shakes his head, absolutely humiliated by the behavior of the Senate, at a disapproval manner as he nudges his head at the door

"Have I not been clear? I needed to be alone"

"It's me, your liege"

He stifle an angry sigh when he recognized the male's voice as he clears his throat, he twists on his rings as he helped him calm for a bit as he turns around slowly, a twinkle on his eyes, the frown that he has on earlier has curved up into a slight smile

He won again, conquering every country that he commands him to do

"Pardon me for barging in but now it is done, can I see my wife and k-"

"There are more victories still yet to come"

He doesn't even let him finish, Acacius has to swallow his frustrations and sadness as he had to remain respectful in front of his Lord, but deep down, he knew

He always knew that he won't get out of this anytime soon, he is like tied to a chain that couldn't break

Taking over the next land and after the next place, it is very tiresome and he doesn't want to be remembered this way

He has seen so many innocent lives that he has to took just because of an order from the highest ruler of Rome, it's execution if he disoblige it, even he's the most-skilled General who won many battles but that's all erased when you're chosen for this duty

He doesn't even feel like he is doing his job as a General, he feels like a slave

It's an endless cycle, he figured that this is his coping mechanism ever since he rages out of nowhere, he can't even see the Emperor he once knew, he knew his ladywife back in the day when there's no blood spilt in the streets of Rome

He also knew that his own wife didn't want this for him and for Rome

But, can he blame him? He loved her too much and her being the leverage of why he does his responsibility so smoothly, his inspiration

Geta, he once knew didn't care about being powerful, untouchable, or feared, he was already contented on what he has have while being the Emperor and an Empress on his side

But that life strucked him out of it after his wife died on incurable disease

Everybody knew how this story goes, the town, the soldiers, and you

"Me and my dear brother are going to celebrate and set up a new entertainment for your winning" Geta says triumphantly as he missed the melancholic gaze that his General has

"The Colosseum, I presume?" He let out a small sigh as he forced a light smile

"Yes, Acacius, The Colosseum indeed"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

Whilst the action is happening, the crowds roar in cheer, Caracalla snickering in excitement as he sits besides his brother

Upon watching, Geta eyes never leaves in the field as he takes a huge gulp from his chalice, his face contorts into a unpleasantness as he drops the chalice alerting everyone around him, he holds his stomach in the process

He raises a hand not to do anything but when he starts violently coughing he falls back down in the ground, the shock gasps from the townspeople and so as the other upper social class that accompanied the two twin emperor's and the fighting in the dirt down under also caught attention in this

"Emperor Geta has been poisoned!" The consul's takes the chalice from the ground as he notices the wine has been spiked in some kind of a dangerous element in the drink

"Brother?" Caracalla immediately concerned to his twin and it makes him even more worried when he doesn't received anything from his brother, to that, he signals the gladiator's away and calls it off

"Can you find who it is and bring him to me, I'm sure whoever that was hasn't gone far enough" General Acacius asks one of his troops to search the one who intently wants to kill his Emperor

He is well aware of how cruel his ruler is, no matter how bad he was, it is no right to take someone's life

"He has to rest but I'm not sure he will live long enough" The nurse defeatedly as he releases a shaky breath

"What?!?" Caracalla panicks as he breathes heavily, he doesn't know what to do, only his brother can do bigger decisions for them and he don't know what he'll do if his brother passes away

He catches his brother stirred in a painful movement as he exasperatedly sighs as he gestures the nurse outside of the room to talk privately

Unbeknown to them, you we're there already waiting for the right moment, you have prepared the healing mixture in a bowl and you quickly took a spoonful of it

"Your grace, this will make you feel better"

A voice

A voice from a young woman beside him, he can't look at you closely when he's in a state of being delirious in this horrible feeling that is going on his system

He manages to ate everything that you could give him but you flinched at the sound of the banging doors

"Peasant!" Caracalla shouts as the glasses on every window ringed at the loudest tone that he directly went into you

"Merciful heavens-" The nurse exclaims as he snatches the bowl from your hands as you bowed your head down

You are not allowed to speak or even look at them unless they ask you to

Caracalla inspects on what you did but he saw his brother features eased a little bit when seconds ago he looked like he is in agony but of course, he doesn't want to give you the satisfaction that you obviously helped him but he doesn't stand you considering you're his personal servant before

"Scram!" He yells and your shoulders shook as you get on your feet together as you headed out of the door

The nurse swipes a finger on the bowl as he tasted it

"What is it?"

"It's....honey...sir"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

You know what you have done was risky and life threatening to be exact since you know how the twin emperor's punished everyone who dares to belittle them or underestimated them

You also knew, you are not someone who is in the higher class of the empire, you are no one

You're just a simple servant who follows commands, cleans, serves, and does all the work for them to keep the palace sleek and comfortable to them

But you've been here for far too long and learned that Geta, he has more humanity left in him than his brother

"Geta is soulless" they say, but to you, he is still there and he is still the same just waiting for someone to unleash it, you can see it in his eyes sometimes, you know all he wanted was to rest for a while but being an Emperor is an enormous weight on his shoulders to be carried because everyone expects him to make Rome great again

You admired him despite the unholiness things he has done, in your heart, you will always going to accept him

But you will always be the one who looks at him from afar because you're just a servant, if things were in a different circumstances you could've talk to him in an easy way but that only happens in dreams

"This is the girl who gave you that whatever substance that she made you eat last night" Caracalla drags you all the way to Geta's room making you drop to your knees as he shoves you harshly to the marbled floor

Geta stares at you, he stood up from his bed as he walks forward to you

"Stand up"

You do as he says while keeping your head down, he encircles you, even you don't see his expressions you feel his gaze analyzing every bit of you

"The nerve of this-"

"Brother, I've had enough"

He huffs as he wrongly thinks that his twin suggesting you to warm his bed

You swallowed nervously at that as you controlled your calmed composure, you tried your best to mask your stunned expression when he denies his brother's words as he escorts him outside of his room

When he appears in front of you, he saids in a calmer tone, "Lift your head up" you do as he says but still avoiding his eyes

He shook his head sideways, "I gave you the permission to look at me no need to ask me again" he demands, his voice was firm this time

That's where you can see so much more of him, upclose and personal, it's the first time you laid your eyes on him like this, god, his eyes

It felt like you're staring at him for too long to other emperor's if you have done that, you could've lose your head so you avert your eyes to somewhere else too scared to get killed off on the spot

You know he doesn't have the same qualities like his brother but still you don't wanna disrespect him

He could sense your discomfort, he still continues to assure you, "I am not going to do anything to you, I just wanted to have a civilized conversation to you"

You lightly nod at that, he chuckles and that eases you out when you heard it, "Is that how it goes for everyone?" he walks towards to the balcony with his hands behind his back as he nudges his chin for you to come and join him

"Sometimes, your highness"

"Terror, the terror that gives it away" he saids in a unlikely manner it almost sounds like he is not proud of it

Since he convinced you twice not to be afraid around him, so, you took the chance to spoke up, "Is it true what you said back there?"

He hums in response, you continued "that.... you're not going to use me for your own pleasure?"

He turns his head at you, amused by the sudden boldness that you could ask directful question like that to an Emperor

"I-I am not like my brother, I don't treat women that way" he stutters as you caught a glimpse of misty glimmer on his eyes but he rapidly blinks away as he focuses his stare to something else

It seemed like you just crossed a line, so, you quickly said

"My sincerest apologies for asking such question-"

"No, forgive me, for my brother, My mother thought us how to be proper in courting women but our father was the coldest man in our childhood, I think he consumed that attitude not so much as I do" he explains as he gave you a small smile that is somehow genuine to you as he re-enters inside of his room drinking a glass of water

You followed suit as you stayed in your place not too close from him

"Now, where did you learn that?" He kept his eyes on you

He brings up the question about the syrup that you gave him last night

"From where I come from that's the natural remedies for stomach indigestion but it is commonly used for food poisoning" you plainly said

He thinks your words carefully, "How come you knew that I was having food poisoning?"

"You're acting like you're about to vomit that's one of the cases of the said sickness, and as for the culprit, I fear, whoever that was, has their mission failed unsuccessfully"

He laughs at the last comment, "Oh, General Acacius will deal with that"

"Do you feel better now, my lord?"

"Yes, I do now, thanks to you" he points his chalice to you as you flash him a quick smile

"Is there anything else that I could do for you before I leave?"

He waves his hand at you as you turn and open the door

"Hang on"

You halt in your tracks and you turned around to look at him, "Yes?"

"How come I don't see you around here before?"

You frown at that question, "I am forbidden to answer that, I'm sorry I must go"

Caracalla, he thinks to himself

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Brother!"

"Geta, for heaven's sake, did you not learn how to knock?!?"

"Where did you find her?"

"Oh, the wretched servant girl?"

"Yes, the servant girl"

A bitter laugh erupts from his chest, "Why are your eyes flaring through me like I've done something wrong?"

"I asked you a question, brother, my patience is thinning"

"Why? Do you want me to get rid of her?"

"Listen here, she told me she is banned to speak her part....unless you imperil her life if she does"

"Oh, yes, we had an agreement" he trails off as Geta stomps forward to him as he pushes him off the chest

"She is my servant here, that's why you haven't seen her before because I prevented her to roam around our palace but that girl's head is stubborn as a rock and also she knows too much and it's outlandish for a young woman to behave like that"

"Where is she positioned then?" He ignores the unnecessary remark about you

"I gave her to you instead, I was supposed to end her life but one of the eldest servants of ours, begged for me to spare her life because I was informed that she excels in a lot of work that is done here"

Geta nods slowly as he thought about you for the second time of the day, it makes sense

"Brother, she is odd, unlike the other women that I brought here, sometimes I do think that she casts a spell on men, a woman shouldn't be that open minded or having a brain"

"Is that the very reason why you cast her out?"

"Yes" he answers absentmindedly

Geta shook his head in disbelief on his brother, "Good thing that you let her live because without her? I wouldn't be alive right now"

He leaves his brother's chambers alone in his own thoughts

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Is everything settled?"

"Swell"

General Acacius exits the room preparing for another upcoming battle but this time, Geta will come along

You enter inside thought no one is in there, so, you froze standing there

"You can come in, I am about to leave"

You nod at his words as you start wiping with a damp cloth of the artifacts and statues, you didn't mean to look, you accidentally scan over to what he was holding and you saw the papers, it looks like a tatic and war strategy, you took a brief glance over at the weather outside

"I had a feeling it's going to rain hereafter"

Geta removes his eyes on the paper as he follows your gaze, he blinks once or twice, waiting for you to elaborate when you didn't catch on, he spoke

"What exactly you're trying to prattle?"

"I surmise that's your crusade with Sir Acacius?" You point out the paperwork that he's holding as he slowly nod with a perplexed expression trying to grasp your words but he is still evidently confused

Surmise? He'll vouch his own brother on that, he was right, you are no ordinary servant

You are educated, it is given

This makes him piques more interest of getting to know you more

"Yes, it is"

"Is the ground solid?"

"What?"

"The battlefield, is it dirt or solid?"

"Uh.... it's mud"

"I'd say don't wear any armor-"

He snorts, "That's baffling to say-"

"Because it makes you heavy and it's hard to yield your swords"

You watch him as if you can see his mind working on its gears, he raises both of his eyebrows when he finally got what you mean

"How are you certain about this?" He tries to confirm your words

"I just told you, my lordship, I had a feeling" you only shrug your shoulders as you glance at him

"I can't believe I am saying this but I am intrigued"

"One more thing, I suggest you let them come over first before you attack gather everyone at the area and then begin fighting at the pit"

You missed the way his eyes are so fixed on you as you talk, he haven't had this fascinating interaction in years

It's all new to him

"I'll consider your advices, lass"

You curtsey to him before you take your departure as you close the door behind you

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

Good gracious

You we're right

If only you we're there to witness it

It's grotesque in all of sorts that Geta himself let all of his men killed one of his longtime foes in the Empire

They're supposed to fought together, but he kept slipping and embarrassing himself in front of him

He won, if he didn't revise his commitment on this, he would've lose it

Geta, however, delighted to celebrate this achievement, but something else is forming on his chest, he thought he could never felt it again after mourning the loss of his wife

You're not advised to meddle with the celebration but you longed for that someday, so, you saw him waving his hand at the townspeople by the window as you stop sweeping for a minute

You know that day won't come

"Before you go, can you call me a servant?" Geta laugh dies down as he straighten himself on the seat

"Yes, of course, your majesty" General Acacius saids fondly with a smile

"Which servant?"

"The bright one"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"You summon for me?" You enter his chambers and tried to poise as if you're not exhausted and already dreaded the set of overloading tasks that you're going to do

"Yes, my dear-"

He stops and his smile falls, "What happened to your hands?"

You tensed when he takes a hold both of your hands, you watch him, you're insane if you think that he cares about you

But, it seems like he truly does, he's been gone for 2 months and didn't like that he comes home to see this

He disregard the news to you, seeing those scratches, redness, splotches on your soft skin, is mood killer to him

He grumbles his tone changed, "Come with me"

You can't hear what they're saying

You're an inch across in the hallway but you can only tell that Geta is sternly talking to the head of the maids in his palace

The poor middle aged maid who is once treated you unkindly before, to your observation, you feel that she is being sermon by Geta, she is petrified

"If you make her work 10x more harder than all of you usually do, I will have your head for the public to see"

"No! Please-"

"Get the fuck away from my sight"

She scurries from him with the eyes of horror in them

Your eyebrows pulled together in bewilderment

"I've lighten your work load" he grins at you and you get even more bamboozled than before, the only thing you overheard from him is his lowly chuckle

"What- excuse me? Sire?"

He left you hanging like that as you frustratedly sigh and you just went into your cramped room and all alone in your unanswered questions

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Child, what are you doing here?"

"I-I thought I was assigned to the laundry today?"

"You're not one of us here, not anymore"

"Sorry?"

"You're Emperor Geta's private servant now"

You softly gasp at the revelation as your mouth is hanging agape and you let out a sound of surprise fall from your lips

To that, you headed towards Geta's room, you are more confident to step in anytime since he has never been awful to you

"What in the blazes-"

"There you are"

You felt the mood shift and your questions on your mind had been paused when you caught the broken voice from him

He carefully folded a very old brittle letters, you assume it belongs to his wife, it's delicate and it's very sentimental to him, he uses the back of his hand to wipe the tears on his eyes

"Geta?-"

"Can you lay down on the bed, please?"

You oblige as you get yourself comfortable on his bed, your concern in your eyes has never faltered when you noticed how distress he is

He took off his robe lets it fall down to the floor as he joins you in, you didn't watch him get beside you, you just stare at the ceiling, you felt the mattress dipped

You feel his eyes on you, he is hesitant, he even kept a personal space for you, but he just needs someone to burst this out this heavy feeling that he has

He's been carrying this for ages

And no one is there for him to lean on, until you came

You heard the sniffle as he hiccupped between sobs, "C-Can I hold you?"

"Yes, you may-"

You yelped when he reaches out and grab you and embraces you a bit tightly

That's where he let all of his tears fall as he wept hard on you in the crook of your shoulder

Your heartaches for him, you also realized that he hasn't got anyone to talk to, about this, you know the reason why

It will make him look weak

The moment you wrapped your arms around him, he brings you even more closer to him, you run down your hand on his back from up and down as you let him wallow to you

You comforted him until the both of you drifted away to sleep

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

You woke up in a breezy morning with the most velvety blanket covered you

You haven't slept like this peacefully, you feel so relaxed than the rickety old bedframe that you had in your stables

You snap your eyes wide open when you realized where you are

"Calm down, lass"

You fastly sit up from the bed, he places his chalice aside as he sits down on the edge of the bed, a content smile on his face

"Sire-"

"You are welcome to stay here in my quarters, you can do everything that you wish" he says with the emphasis on the word as he held your hand caressing your knuckles with his thumb

He smiles again when he sees your wounds healing, the special ointment that he uses worked "Here, you should eat" he gives you the silver tray filled with variety of food

Before you protest, "I'll attend a meeting, I'll be back"

He left you with another complete unbelievable expression on your face

"This has got to be a dream"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

A rapple knock through the door, startled you out of it, disturbing you with the book that you've been reading, but before you could reach the handle, the same soldier that has been stalking you came in with rage and lust on his eyes, you walk backwards as he closes the door

"You know just because Geta made you his servant doesn't mean I have no right to touch you"

"Please, don't do this-"

"You are not his whore, noblewoman" he chuckles with snarkiness, "you're not his wife"

Your heart cracks, your body begins to shake because of fear, you eye the door behind him, you find look everywhere to use as a weapon

You had no other choice to kick him in the weak spot making him fold in pain, he tries to tussle you and threw you in the bed but you slapped him making him angrier than before

When you ran towards the door, he trips you made you fall flat face down on the floor, you scream out for help as the fresh tears roll down to your face as he drags your feet across the room, he puts himself on top of you

He won't budge as he rips your clothes, you thought it will be the end for you

"Hey!" Geta sheathes his sword pointing at the predator who crawls back, he's like a deer caught in the headlights, you picked yourself up as you went behind Geta's back

Geta's piercing gaze is making the man skin goosebumps on its wake, he gulped hard as he begs for his life and for mercy

"How dare you to enter my abode and wickedly abused my lady?!?" He steps more further to him as you hide behind his back

His lady? What?!?

"I shall eat your heart out and feed you to the lions!" He shouts and raises his sword aiming for his neck

"Geta! No!"

You went over to his front, you have no idea the effect that you're giving him, you saw his gaze softens when it lands on you

He calms down when you weep and hug him instead, but still the fire in his eyes lingered over the man who is now getting arrested by General Acacius men

When the two of you are alone, he spoke, "Are you alright-"

"I'm gonna draw a bath for myself-" you whispered

He sighs as he lets you, the worry on his eyes are glued to your back

He shouldn't have left you all alone

You bring your knees close to your chest as you quietly sob

Geta kept pacing back and forth outside of the bathroom, he runs down his palm on his face

The knock terrifies you again, "Lass?" but your nerves eased when you recognize the voice

"May I come in?"

You thought about it for a while, but you could use some company after what just happened

"Yes"

He gets himself inside, the moonlight is making your skin glow, his heart thumps faster as he walks closer, he felt bad

"I'm so sorry-"

"It isn't your fault, your grace" you sniffle as you cut off the eye contact to him, you feel so ashamed of yourself

"You should've let me kill him-"

"Geta, with all due respect, I'm not yours to begin with"

That's where guilt flashes on his eyes and it's clear to his face, he swallowed the lump on his throat as he breathes deeply

"I knew the Empress, I already accepted way before that I have no place in your world, nobody can ever surpass your lady wife" you croak out the last part as you sniffle

You are wrong about that

"Even you're not mine, I don't like evil things tainted my palace"

You look up to him as he cradled your cheek as he runs his thumb, "Come to my chambers after you finish and wear this" he whispers as he places a white satin dress next to you

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

When you finally came back to his chambers, he swiftly turns around to look at you

The air from his lungs knock out as he places his hand on his chest

The contentment on his smile fades slightly when you don't match the one on his face, he can't read you

"What do you need me for?"

"I-I want you to stay here with me"

You scoff, it feels like your wasting your time here, "Geta, you can't just want me and act like this meant nothing!"

"I didn't say that-"

"You shower me with all this affection and lavished me with stuff that I didn't asked for and why do I feel like I'm being the one who filling that void in you?!?"

Oh, you hit the nerve on him

"Slow down with your words, lass"

"Tell me, Geta, what am I here for? what am I to you?"

He sighs and raggedly breathes as he huffs

"Don't push me-"

"Answer me!"

"I can't pursue you because I'm a monster!"

Your heart shatters when you heard his voice cracks, "Geta-"

"You're the only woman that has ever treated me fairly ever since my wife died when in reality anyone could've left me for dead"

You know what exactly he's talking about, the day you saved him from poisoning

"What are you trying to say?"

"I tried to resist but you making it hard for me not to, I-I thought I would never have this, you made me feel alive"

You come closer to him but he kept staying away from him, you plead your eyes to him but he avoids it

"You're too good to me, you don't even know how many times you crossed my mind everytime I'm out there making plans for Rome"

"Geta, you we're only doing what you have to do, I understand-"

"Dearie me, lass, spare me your sympathies, it's unfathomable how much I brought wreckage of Rome, do you know how the town loathes me?!?"

You reach to his face to hold both of his cheek, he gasps within the warmth of your touch

"I could never hate you, there's no fiber in me that despises you, I'm not afraid of you, Geta"

His eyes are glassy and when everywhere as he searches for uncertainty, there's nothing, you are so honest and sure with your words

"Will you spooked out if I do something?"

"No, Geta-"

He slams his lips against yours as you melt with it, both of yours lips together collided as one, he kisses you deeper as he grabs your waist closer to him, you let out a sweet soft moan as he growls when you bit his lips slightly

He grips both of your legs as he carries you smoothly as if you weigh nothing, you wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you tenderly, your heart melts with his gentleness

He trails his kisses to the nape of your neck as his hands are under the hem of your dress, he breathes you in, he pull down the strap of your dress as you adjust yourself to remove it, your cheeks are flushed as you became shy under his gaze as he drinks you in

His eyes rake all over your body, your curves, your thighs, he takes his robe off quickly as he can, you giggle as he shoots you mischievous grin

"Your face and your body is like been carved by the gods" he breathlessly say as he carefully enters your sopping hole as you winced at the intrusion

The pain is overwhelming but as soon as the pleasure takes over you throw your head back into the cushions

"G-Geta-" you whine as he kisses your jaw, "I know, my love"

My love?, you audibly gasped at that but his moves goes faster and your roll backwards at the sensation forming up in your belly

He pumps in and out of your tight hole as the sinful sounds of body slamming echoed in the room, he kneads your breasts as he goes even more faster

He swallows your moans as he captures your lips again, he can't get enough of you, he wanted to absorb every inch of you

Your jaw falls slack when you grip beneath the sheets, he grips your hips so hard, your nails dig to his back as you scratch it earning a groan from him

You feel completely boneless as he pulls you to him, you shriek at the angle that he could reach inside of you, he opens your legs wider as he helps you to bottom in and out as you sunk down on him, you mewl and writhe as he sucks on your skin finding your sweet spot as you squeal, licking the marks that he made on you with the flat of his tongue

Your legs tremble as your toes curl when you roll your hips to him as he matches your movements, you grind him fast, he praises how he feels so good inside of your velvety walls as you clench around him

You moan loudly when he brings you back to the bed as he start pounding on you, your eyes almost drop to its sockets, when you tried to use your elbows to raise yourself but can't do it anymore as you feel absolutely in the haze, blissfully euphoric in the moment

He brings you over the edge as he stays in the crook of your neck as he continues ruthlessly goes back and forth deliciously coating his member with your juices

You scream as you came undone as you blackout from the orgasm, he kisses every part of your skin leaving no part missed, he breathes out with a lazily smile and when he notices you're not responding, he gently pats your cheek

"Darling?"

That's the first time that he has ever referred you

You hum in response but a pleased smile is now sitting on your lips, your eyes are half way closed, the vision is still blurry and your legs are definitely going to sore first thing in the morning but you don't care, this is fulfilling to you

He sighs in relief, "Are you well?" He says as slowly pulls himself out, you whimper at the emptiness as he devilishly chuckles

"I am, I just need to come back down to earth"

Bells of laughter bursted out from his mouth as you smiled widely at the sound of it

When he calms down, he takes care of you, both of you are still naked under the sheets as he pulls you to his side to wrap his arms around you, he rests your head over his arm as he scooped you closer to him as you sigh in comfort

"Goodnight, my love"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

Your head is nestled to his neck so perfectly made just for you

You feel otherworldly happier

The sunrise hits your eyes as you squint on it, you look up to him, you saw how handsome he truly is, without his makeup during his killing time in the Colosseum

His ginger hair is so unruly but you loved it so much, you smile to yourself

You can't stop yourself as you place a kiss to his lips making his face scrunch as he finally registers what's happening

He smirks, "Well, morning, lass" This time kisses you properly earning a giggle from you

"Morning, my emperor"

His eyes sparkle when you said that, "My emperor, I like it"

Both of you are mirroring each other, smiling so big that it making your cheeks hurt but you didn't mind it

It looks like he is back again, you knew it, you knew it all along

His face became slowly serious as he takes your hand closer to his chest as he peppered it with kisses

"Lass?"

"Hm?"

"I want you to be my-"

"Your eminence? someone here wants to see you"

He rolls his eyes as your smile never faded as you look at the door behind him

"My sweet-"

"You can tell me it later, Geta" you held his cheek as you made a quick peck to his lips

He pouts but he has to stand up and get dressed as you sit up to watch him

Love

Love is so above in the air, both of your heartbeats the same thing

When he looks decent, he's about to leave but he run towards you to give you a big kiss as you squeal as you shove him in the chest as he laughed

He finally lets you go, he walks backwards as he bite his bottom lip

He turns around opens the door and gave you one last look with a smile that you never ever expected to be directed at you

A smile that you never thought you will get to see it again

He gives himself a tight nod as he finally made his mind, he knows what to do with your relationship to him

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

"Acacius?"

"Yes, your liege?"

"You have my permission, you can visit your family"

His eyes are watery from the statement but Geta felt the happiness that rushes through him

"I sincerely thank you for accepting my request, your highness" he bows

When he gathered his things, Geta spoke again, he needed to say this to him

"Acacius?"

"Yes?"

"I-I know I'm not the exceptional Emperor but I must say that I am forever indebted to your loyalty, not one single General that stays longer than you, Acacius"

He chuckles heartily at that, "If I may be so bold, sire, can I tell you something?"

"Please do"

"Is she your lady?"

Geta blushes at that as he scratches the back of his neck, "Yes, she is"

"That young woman, my lord, your brother Caracalla, he....snatched her father's life away, she's no royalty but her parents scraped up to give her what they can do, to what they feel seems right for her, so, that's why she's so knowledgeable" he saids with a dismayed expression on his face

It felt like a punch to a gut

"I fear, you didn't know about that" Acacius realizes that Geta's mind is all over the place now

"I-I....good god.....she didn't addressed that to me"

"It's because she loves you so much that she protected you from your brother's schemes"

Geta sat down on his throne with a softened features on his eyes as Acacius made his way over to his side

"She chose kindness over hatred despite what your brother has done to her"

"I-"

He saw your figure hiding behind the pillar, his heart swells at the sight of you being so meek all of the sudden, Acacius followed Geta's eyes as he gestures to welcome you

You shyly came out, "I didn't mean any harm-"

"Tell me, lass, how does my Empress sound?"

Acacius purses his lips as he tries to hide his knowing smirk as he held his hands behind his back

Your mouth slowly drops as you tilt your head at him as you dart your eyes back and forth to him and Acacius, Geta wished you knew how breathtaking you look, you radiating everything that he has ever needed in his life, your eyes screams joy, your lips curled into a sweet smile, you see in his eyes that he wholeheartedly wanted this, and you couldn't convey how elevated you are

But before you could answer, you saw someone aiming an arrow at him, your eyes widen

When it strikes, you pushed Geta away catching the arrow yourself in the scene, he gasps as Acacius manages to dodge the second arrow, he hollers at his troops to capture the man, it's the same man who terrorized you, the voices are blurred to him now, he felt his world crumbled when he saw you laying on the marbled floor with a staggering breath, you feel lightheaded, your blood seeps through your white dress, he drop to his knees as he daintly pulls you to him as he cradles your neck

"Oh, god, no" he didn't even realized that he's crying as you felt the tears falling through your cheek

"Geta-" you choke in your own blood, Geta carries you in his arms as he shushes you, he's making sure that he's not hitting your injured area as he curses at himself

"D-Don't beat yourself up, Geta"

"No, save your strength-"

"I'm sorry, Geta, I didn't wished for this to happen-" you sob as you grimace in pain

"What are you even apologizing for?"

"I didn't meant to replace your ladywife"

"Stop, don't talk like that" he pants as he calls for a healer to fix you

"Don't torture yourself, I don't want you to punish yourself-"

"I-I can't lose you!"

"Geta, don't cry-"

"I would rather be with you than be alone ruling Rome, I want you by my side!"

"I have adored you for eons, Geta" you sniffle as you flash him with a pained smile

"Y-You can't- I love you" Geta himself shocked by his own words as he tries

Your waterline starts to sting as you tried to hold back your tears, the faint tear rolls down to your cheek as he wipes it with his thumb

When he sees your eyes fluttering close, he wails, he panicked bad, really in pure anguish

"N-No-N-No, don't stay with me!"

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

He watches as your chest heaves weakily, bloodshot eyes as he can feel them swollen first thing in the morning when he wakes up

He stayed up late, he stayed beside you while you're fast asleep, your face has lost its color of how tender the arrow hit you closer to your chest, Geta has seen so many horrific scenarios all of his life but not like this, every maid and even General Acacius clamoring to save you, it's like the time stopped, it's like the God's cursing at him that he didn't deserve this

Happiness at last until it's not

It's a miracle, the healer says, that somehow it didn't hit a more fatal fracture around your chest, it will heal but surely it will leave a mark on your skin and the process will be longer at how deep the arrow went through you

"What's the point" Geta mutters to himself as he takes a glance at you

"What's the purpose of me living and ruling this empire with Rome around me when I have no one" he punctuates every word with indignant tone as he stood up and puff as he paces across the room

"I have nothing without my lady" he took a look at the sky as if he's talking to the God's

"Me, an bloodthirsty Emperor who is inhumane to his people, I know, what I've done, I will take that regret to my grave, it's unforgivable, the shadow of it will forever follow me, but this?" He points to you and looked back at the sky again said with tears on his eyes, irked but filled with desperation and misery

"I-I was blinded by my sorrow and wrath, I cursed the whole town and blamed the world for the death of my late wife" his voice cracks on every word as he runs a shaky hand over his hair

He looks back at you again and he can't help but breakdown and cry once more

He shakes his head furiously as he gives a pointed look at the sky

"I won't let you take her, you can't take her away from me, not this one, no, I won't allow it, not ever!" He shouts out loud as his voice echoed, he breathes heavily as he squeezes his eyes shut

"Let me have her, please, let me keep her" he pleas as he stare into nowhere

When he hears a faint voice coming from inside, he gets back up to his feet, he did a double take, if he heard it right, when he does he sprinted back to you

He sees you holding out your hand as he happily cries to see you awake, you've slept for so long when it all happened in one day

"M-My darling-"

"Geta, y-you're not blaming yourself, are you?"

"N-No, it doesn't matter anymore"

When you tried to move, you wince as he reminded you, you need to stay still for a while or else you'll bleed again

"Feeling any better?"

"Yes, I am, because you're here"

He sobbed as he kisses your hand as he held it close to his cheek, "Your goodness has never failed to make my heart flutter, my dear, I'm terribly sorry-"

"I love you too"

He stifle a gasp to your words, "You do?" with a hopeful gaze as you smile at him as you move the hair that is closer to his eye

"I do, and I accept your proposal"

He grins widely as he sniffle, you wipe the tears from his eyes, "Don't fret, my love, I'm here"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Of what?"

"That my brother killed your father?"

You blink rapidly suddenly growing nervous, "I-I don't want you and your brother to argue, I know the both of you wanted to rip off with each other's bones but he is still your brother "

He nods softly, "It will take me time to forgive him then"

"That's all I ever wanted for you, Geta"

"Merciful?" He jokingly said as you amuse yourself

"Yes, but don't worry about that now, what matters is we have each other, I help you with every step of the way"

He tucks your hair behind your ear as he hold your cheek, "I am more prouder to stand before you because I know that you got me"

"Always?"

"Always"

He kisses you tenderly and gently, a kiss with a promise, tomorrow will be different, the phases of your life will change because

You're no longer a servant but a....

An Empress to an Emperor

┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈

☾ an : erm- I think I went overboard lol this was supposed to be a oneshot but it ended up to a longer oneshot fic lmao anyways I just wanted to be detailed and hopefully y'all enjoyed reading this, I got inspired because there's something about a mournful and snappy emperor but has a soft spot for someone that he didn't realized that he loved her! so yeah that's the gist hehe

☾ tags : @eirone-and-cheese @eddiesghxst @yourfavouritecitizen @princesssunderworld (without them pushing me to write this already, this fic wouldn't come to fruition, so, I highly thank you for supporting me! even I'm not that skilled writer, I'm just doing this for fun but still I appreciate your kindness! <3 🥺🫶🏻)

[heartless-tate]

High lady. | High Lord Eris X F reader

Summary: You used to love Eris- and now that’s all in the past. Or you at least that’s what you think. Until you receive an invitation to a dance from the high lord- Eris.

A/N: Hellooo my fireflies! I’ve been thirsting for Eris these past few weeks so why not write for him? I can’t believe I ever didn’t like this man 😫. Also for my male readers out there, if you’d like me to rewrite this or any of my other fics with a male reader, just ask! 💕

3k words

warnings: cussing, allusions to sex, use of y/n, slight angst, she/her pronouns

There were no words to describe your shock at seeing the royal invite to the ball. You weren’t high fae. You were a simple, low class librarian. Your name was written in beautiful, classy cursive. A handwriting you recognized immediately. This was handwritten by Eris. Eris Vanserra. Memories flooded your mind.

Running through the gardens, dogs barking behind you playfully. You didn’t have time to react before a body landed on you. Eris. He tackled you to the dirt, his hand was cradling your head to prevent it banging against the floor as he straddled your back. His hounds crowded the two of you, stomping and making noises with excitement.

“Got you little fox!” Eris announced, hugging you from behind.

“Not fair! You said you’d give me a head start.” You pouted. Eris’s laughter filled the air, creating a warm atmosphere. His arms wrapped around your middle and he pulled you into a hug. His embrace was warm and comforting in the cool autumn air.

Cauldron. That was so long ago. Eris was older by you than a long shot, but at that time, you were young. Nineteen years old. Young and innocent. He was also slightly more innocent then, playing with you and entertaining your young soul. Your face flushed a slight shade of pink, and you shook your head. You remember your crush on him. How could you not have one though? Everyone warned you. And you didn’t listen. He was everything a girl at that age would’ve wanted. Beautiful, handsome, smart, experienced, and a prince.

It was only when you discovered Eris was to be betrothed to some high fae daughter in his father’s court, did your little world come crashing down with reality. You were a peasant compared to him. And he likely saw you as nothing but entertainment. So you distanced yourself. You stopped accepting his invites to dinner with his family, you didn’t go out with him anymore. Of course, you couldn’t bear to completely cut him off. So you still would accept his occasional invite to walk with him in the forests with his hounds. He always told you they missed you. Now days, the walks were somewhat awkward. They happened every few months.

The last one was 6 months ago. You always thought you were doing better, you worked at a library, and cared for precious books. You lived in a relatively small apartment, but it was okay. You were grateful, you had a roof on your head and food on your plate. Things had changed since your last walk with him.

Beron was dead. On Eris’s wedding night, before the marriage had been officiated he had dueled Beron to a battle of death. Hundreds at the wedding had witnessed as Eris brutally slayed his father, and placed the crown on his head. Declaring himself as high lord. He released himself of the marriage, and granted his fiancé permission to marry her true lover. When the news escaped to the streets and you heard, you couldn’t help but be nervous. You realized, Eris would be to busy with his court to come on walks with you anymore. And that made you realize that your feelings weren’t gone. You had never gotten over him.

Tonight was a royal ball. You remembered Eris had always begged his father to let you attend the dances and balls, but Beron always refused. Saying trash like you should never be seen with royalty. Eris, stayed by your side though. He’d sneak from the dances and find you, and would dance in the silent night with you. And you had no idea why Eris was inviting you to this ball. Was it pity? Did he want you to experience something nice once in your life? What would you even wear? You certainly didn’t have royal attire.

You ripped open the letter with your nails, admiring the wax seal of a little fox on it. You opened it to a small card inside. Eris’s handwriting.

Little fox,

I’d be honored for you to attend the royal autumn ball tonight with me. A carriage will wait for you at your apartment at noon. Don’t neglect my dogs of your attention any longer.

Love, Eris.

You giggled. You felt like a school girl. You could feel the heat on your face. You admired his familiar handwriting. It was neat and lovely in every sense. A dried viola fell into your lap when you opened the card further. Memories of him teaching you cursive in the gardens made you smile. You stood, grasping the flower, and pulled out the small box you kept of every letter he had ever sent you. Whenever Beron would try to restrict him from seeing you, it didn’t stop him from convincing his maids or servants to get his letters to you. You hadn’t received a letter since his last request to walk with you. The box was filled with the dried flowers he’d always sent with them.

How could you go? What would you wear? You approached your closet. And then you remembered something.

“Eris- I can’t wear this. This is too- too, royal.” You squeaked, admiring the beautiful dress he had just gifted you.

“Wear it. It matches the suit my father made me wear. Let’s dance, little fox.” He purred, pushing hair out of your face. Once the dress was on, he pulled you close to him in the empty streets on the Autumn Court and guided you in a slow dance, uncaring of the lack of music. Or the fact he was missing a royal ball.

You didn’t waste time in finding the box tucked away safely under your bed, and pulling it out. You opened the box, staring at the gorgeous forgotten dress. You had only worn it the last night he had danced with you.

This would work. Looks like all the dances you learned from books would pay off tonight.

Music from the orchestra blasted loudly. You entered the throne room, slightly late. But nobody cared. You were fashionably late- you had to find a mask. It was a masquerade after all. And Eris’s letter was a little bit close to time so, nobody could blame you. People danced in sync all over the room, dresses of different colors swaying. It was so fascinating. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Sure, most of these people were stuck up cunts, but they were beautiful, and they knew it too. You walked down the the grand stair case, eyes greedily taking in everything.

And then they caught on him. He sat on the throne, auburn hair messy as if he had ran his hands through it more then once tonight. The crown on his head was slightly crooked, giving him an uncaring look as high fae of all kinds greeted him. His mask was the color of burning fire, gold lace trimming it. He seemed bored, uninterested in this whole party. And he looked every bit of the High Lord you knew he would be.

You didn’t have the guts to greet him. You couldn’t. He had invited you out of perhaps pity. There were clear boundaries you were sure of. And you knew approaching the high lord as a peasant would break every single one of those boundaries. You could already see high fae turning their noses up at you as you walked by.

You approached the giant banquet table, observing the various foods. They were all favorites of yours. Maybe you just had a fancy food taste. You grabbed a glass of fae wine off of a servant’s tray, happy to indulge yourself in high quality wine that you didn’t have to pay for. You decided to eat after you danced.

You turned to face the dance floor. You watched the first waltz come to an ends, couples departing to find new partners. You swirled your wine in your glass, smelled it and then took a taste. It was glorious. Aged, and woodsy. You figured the bottle was easily in the three hundreds. Who cared? You didn’t have to pay for it. You snickered to yourself.

“Dance with me?” A coy voice purred beside you.

You turned, seeing a gentle around your age. High fae. And he was still asking to dance. Odd. His mask was black with silver lace. He wore a simple black tux. His hair was a dark brown, slicked with gel. He had a warm smile. He was handsome. You took his outstretched hand.

“Why not?” You replied, setting your wine glass down on a servant’s tray. The male smirked with arrogance, and swooped you to the dance floor. Music begun, and he started the dance.

“I’m Silas.” He murmured, twirling you. You nodded, having no problem in keeping up with the complex strides of this particular dance.

“Y/n” You responded. His eyes glinted.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you.” Silas said. He started to move faster, as if seeing how well you could keep up. And you did. Having no trouble at all.

You smiled warmly. This man was nice. You could see yourself with him. But it felt like something was missing. Like a hole in your heart.

“Thank you, Silas.” You purred back, starting to lead the dance. You guided it into a more complex rhythm, going along with the music, but ultimately making it more difficult. You giggled when he tripped over his own foot but caught himself. He glared at you.

“You dance awfully good for a commoner.” He huffed out, twirling you again.

“Having trouble keeping up?” You taunted playfully, not caring of his snarky remark. He was embarrassed. You could tell by how his eyes were roaming the people that had take to watch the both of you dance, interested in seeing how long you could rule the dance floor, he was embarrassed. Your eyes roamed the people. You could feel a familiar sense of someone watching. Your eyes found Eris. He was no longer listening to the fae beside him. His amber eyes bored into you. When you caught eye contact, he smirked. His legs spread as he leaned further into his throne. His eyebrow was cocked, his long talons tapping against the throne.

Cauldron. You had forgot how breathtakingly gorgeous he was. And sexy. You felt your face flush.

A snarl distracted you from him. Silas’s hands clutched your hips.

“Do not mock me.” He growled quietly in your ear. The music’s rhythm went faster, and the dance along with it. The curious fae quickly started dancing again, embarrassed at how they were so mesmerized by a commoner.

You went to take another step, but Silas went crashing to the floor. You watched in shock as he slid on the floor, his eyes wide with fury and embarrassment. His face heated with embarrassment. He looked up at you mouth open as if he was about to blame you, but his eyes caught on something behind you. Or rather, someone.

You turned slowly to see the high lord standing in his full glory behind you. His sharp cunning eyes squinted and mouth pulled into a smirk. He observed the male on the floor before looking at the people around you both. Then his eyes landed on you. You were awestruck by him for a minute- before you realized he was royalty. You started to bow but an invisible force stopped you. Your eyes narrowed in confusion before Eris bowed in front of you.

The High Lord just bowed in front of you. You. A peasant. Before you could say anything he lifted his hand to you.

“Grant me the pleasure of a dance?” He said, loud and clear. Gods you missed his voice. Yours ears picked up multiple gasps of shock. You heard a start of a growl before seeing Eris’s eyes glare into Silas behind you. You heard Silas scrambling away, knowing his place. Eris’s eyes turned back to you. He stayed in a bowed down position, hand waiting for yours. You swallows your shock. So be it. This very much may be the last dance you and him share, and you would take it.

Eris smiled softly when he felt the familiar embrace of your hand on his. His hand wrapped around yours, completely swallowing it. You hadn’t even realized the music had stopped until now. He motioned with his free hand for it to begin again. Fae around you scampered to start dancing, but all of their eyes were on you. On him. And his eyes were on you. And that’s all that mattered.

His free hand moved to your hip, grasping it gently with respect. He slowly moved to start the dance, holding you close. You didn’t know what to say or do other than to follow his lead. You didn’t even realize your mouth was gaping open.

“Little fox, you look like a fish gasping for air.” Eris teased in your ear, and you quickly shut your mouth.

“Sorry-“

“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to me.” He replied, smoothly. Gods. It was as if you were 19 again and you were dancing in the empty village with him. His long nails drew circles on your hip as you slowly started ti advance in the pace of the music. He kept up with ease, and you the same.

“Your hounds miss you.” Eris murmured, leaning his head down enough to kiss your forehead. It took every ounce of self control to not accidentally trip in shock.

“My hounds? They’re not mine. They’re yours!“ You started.

“Yes, they are, little fox. You helped me save and raise Sadie’s pups. If it wasn’t for you most of them would’ve died during birth. They are every bit of yours as they are mine.” He responded, pulling you closer. You knew better then to continue this fight with him. He was stubborn. And you knew if you tried to refuse again you’d probably have a pack of hounds at your apartment door tomorrow- out of spite.

“Whatever.” You grumbled defeatedly, shaking your head. He chuckled. His laugh was deeper now. You could smell the envy of other women around you. You wondered if they knew there wasn’t anything to be jealous of.

“So..how’s being High Lord?” You asked, unsure of what to talk about now. Eris frowned with a playful pout.

“Lonely. I’m sure the hounds would agree too. But don’t worry about that. That’ll change very, very soon.”

You weren’t quite sure what Eris was getting on to now. He always spoke in riddles. You sighed. Before you could re-question him, he started talking again.

“How has my little fox been?” Eris divulged.

You blushed. He had always had a knack for that dumb nickname. You were glad people couldn’t hear your conversation. The current dance came to an end and Eris wasted no time in pulling you into another. He knew you would have no problems keeping up.

“I’ve been good.” You responded. You looked up at him. He had gotten taller. And bigger. Maybe it was the high lord magic that transferred to him after Beron died or something. You weren’t sure. But he towered over you, creating a comical size difference. He gave you a toothy playful smile. He was always so carefree around you. You loved it. You loved him.

“You look lovely in that dress.”

“You bought it.” You quipped back at him.

“I have such good taste don't I?” He countered.

You couldn’t help but giggled looking away. The music slowed and you knew this was coming to an end. And gods you didn’t want it to end. His eyes softened as if he too was thinking the same. He grasped you tighter, pulling you closer, your bodies left no space between each others. He leaned down and inhaled your scent.

“Gods. I missed you. I missed your scent. The way you laugh. Talking with you- I missed it all.” Eris started. He held you tighter when you tried to pull away, confused.

“Don’t move away. Let me enjoy this Y/n.” He whispered, head going to the crook of your neck as he slowed the dance, moving with rhythm to the orchestra’s music. You realized how desperate and clingy his hood on you seemed now. As if he had missed you as much as you missed him.

Fuck boundaries. You couldn’t care if you were a peasant compared to him right now. You let your inner thoughts win as you tightly clutched at him. You didn’t wanna let go of him. You let your head lean against his chest, relaxing into the calm and slow dance. You knew fae were gawking at you both. And neither of you cared. Eris seemed shocked at your return of his embrace. The music slowed to a stop, and so did you both in the middle of the floor. Eris gently pulled away, staring at you with such adoring eyes. A sharp contrast to who he was in front of these people. His eyes found their way to your lips. He looked back up at you, a pleading look on his face. You understood what he wanted.

His hand clutched at the back of your head as your lips met. His were soft. It was the most gentle and loving kiss. You couldn’t give a flying fuck about the jealous and envious fae. Not just women. Both males and females snickering in jealousy. Eris pulled away, eyes soft. He took in the sight of you.

He didn’t waste time in pulling you in for a second kiss. This one wasn’t gentle. It was hot. Aggressive. He kissed you as if there was a fire in his bones and you were the only thing that could sooth it. His teeth gently nipped and sucked on your bottom lip. You returned it. His hand clutched at the back of your head, talons tangled in your hair. His other one clutched at your hip and roamed to your lower back. Your hands clutched at the front of his dress shirt. When you pulled away gasping for air, Eris had the biggest smile on his face. His eyes roamed your face again. You lips were swollen and pink from him. You were panting and looking at him as if he was everything. And he returned the same look. He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw.

“Don’t make me miss you anymore. Stay with me. I’ll give you everything you could dream of. You can be my high lady. Anything- anything you want.” He begged, eyes pleading. You knew he wasn’t lying.

“Eris..”

Eris swear his heart stopped with the way you said his name. He’s positive he would die right here on this floor at your knees if you rejected him. You were all he ever wanted.

“You’re everything I could dream of.” You whispered to him. Eris took in a gasp of air, not realizing he had been holding it. Relief flooding his body. And then pure love. He grabbed your hand before you could say anything and guided you up the stairs the the throne. He turned, facing the crowd with you. His hand placed on your lower back.

The whole crowd of fae stared in confusion and shock. No idea of what was about to happen.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Eris barked. “Show some respect to your high lady.”

His voice boomed across the room, gasps eliciting from the crowd. And then, they all bowed. You stood in front of the throne, watching as they all bowed to their knees. The scent of fear and confusion flooded from the fae.

Eris smirked before turning around back to you. He knew that despite your anxieties, you were made for this. Just your presence demanded attention from others. He knew you were his. His eyes shined with pure male pride as he removed the autumn court crown from his head, and gently placed it on yours. You watched as he bowed down on his knee, paying respect to you. His queen. You relaxed. Hundreds of high fae all bowed down to you. Your man bowed down to you. You tipped your head up with a smirk.

Eris grasped your hand and kissed your ring finger with a possessive glare at it. As if promising himself it would soon have a ring around it. He stood, and walked you to the throne. He held your hand as you sat down on it, crossing your legs. He stood beside you, eyes peering to the fae. He looked to you. Gods you were gorgeous. He couldn’t help the possessiveness in him that filled to the brim at seeing you where you finally belonged. He had waited so long to be able to do this.

“The masquerade is over. Get out.” He growled to the people, his eyes never leaving you. He didn’t bother turning around to ensure the people left. He could hear them rushing to get out.

He was gonna fuck you on your rightful throne.

[saphronethaleph]

Legally Mandated Vacation Days

The holoprojector in Palpatine’s private quarters activated, an image shimmering to life, and Palpatine smiled in anticipation of seeing Vader kneeling before him.

That lasted approximately half a second, until he saw the actual image.

“Your Majesty!” an extremely nervous Imperial Navy lieutenant said, saluting. “It’s an honour to-”

“Where is Vader?” Palpatine asked. “This is his personal hologram frequency!”

“Ah… Lord Vader assigned me to take his calls while he was away,” the lieutenant explained. “It’s, ah… an honour to be speaking to you… do you have a message?”

“Away?” Palpatine repeated. “Why is Vader away?”

“I don’t know!” the lieutenant protested. “Your Majesty, I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you – he just told me to take his calls and said he was using up some annual leave, since he hadn’t taken any since the year one.”

It took Palpatine a fraction of a second to actually calculate what that meant, because replacing the calendar when he came to unquestioned power had been what the youth called ‘a flex’ but it had also caused significant calendrical chaos and he personally still thought in the old system at least half the time.

Eleven years, then. Vader had eleven years of stored up annual leave, and he was choosing to expend some.

“Where did he go?” Palpatine asked.

“I didn’t ask!” the lieutenant replied. “Your Majesty, I didn’t want to die, and also I don’t think I’m allowed to ask anyway…”

Palpatine glowered at the hologram, then untensed.

Marginally.

“Inform Vader that I want to speak to him as soon as possible,” he said, then ended the call before the lieutenant could start fawning again.

“Uncle Owen!” Luke called, running down the steps of the homestead. “Aunt Beru! Someone’s coming!”

“We’d better see what this is about, then,” Owen Lars decided. “Did you recognize them?”

The pre-teen looked thoughtful.

“Don’t think so,” he said. “Whoever it was, they were wearing black. Not sure why.”

“Black robes are just as cool as white,” Beru commented. “I know black gets hotter, but it doesn’t reach the skin.”

Luke frowned.

“It might have been robes,” he said. “Don’t know.”

“Well, let’s see who it is,” Owen decided.

Beru’s gaze darted to where one of their blasters was hidden, as Owen headed up the stairs.

“Oh kriff,” Owen said, in a tiny voice.

Then a black shape, like death, came down the stairs.

The figure in the armoured suit and cloak wasn’t really forcing Owen to retreat, not really.

Not through any physical means, or otherwise.

He was just… walking, and Owen was responding in an instinctive sort of way to get out of the way of Darth Vader, the Emperor’s Enforcer, the sign of death across the whole of the known galaxy.

Upon reaching floor level, Vader examined Beru, then Luke, then the room around them.

“So,” Darth Vader said, in a dread but awkward voice. “How have you been doing?”

It took all those present several seconds to find their voices.

“...what?” Owen asked, eventually.

“I know it has been a while,” Vader went on, then stopped. “…ah, of course. It is unsurprising you fail to recognize me. I… was not wearing this, before.”

“Then who are you?” Beru asked. “You’re acting like you know us, but… you’re Darth Vader.”

“Yes,” Vader agreed. “I… have had a complicated last few months. I ran into someone from my past. We fought. I was seriously injured, and it gave me reason to consider what I have made of my life. About the relatives that I have failed to visit.”

Owen and Beru exchanged glances, then both looked at Luke.

“Are you really Darth Vader?” Luke said, sounding fascinated. “Everyone says you’re really scary, but you’re in our kitchen and I don’t know if that means you’re scary.”

“I am extremely scary,” Vader replied, in tones of either great seriousness or impressive deadpan. “I have killed people for annoying me. I have killed people who did not have the time to annoy me.”

“Did you cut their heads off?” Luke asked, in that way that children can. “I’ve never seen that happen but it sounds like it’d be really messy. There’s two bits of person then.”

Vader made a sound that, charitably, could be interpreted as chuckling.

“It appears I have been remiss in not talking about my work to my step-brother’s child,” he said. “I approve of you, child.”

“Step-brother’s child…” Owen said, then his eyes went wide. “You’re – you’re Anakin!?”

Vader tilted his head slightly. “Who else would I be?”

“I’ve got relatives,” Beru pointed out. “I wouldn’t have thought any of them was Darth Vader, but… we thought Anakin was dead.”

Vader appeared to think about that.

“I can see why you would think that,” he admitted.

“Does that mean you’re my dad?” Luke asked.

Vader did a double take.

“What,” he said.

For a moment, simmering anger filled the room, then it faded away.

“I suppose if you thought that I was dead, then taking in my child would be reasonable,” he conceded. “As my only surviving relatives of any sort.”

“I’ll get some water for us to share?” Beru suggested, falling back on basic hospitality. And on a way to get out of the sight of the others for a minute.

She was going to need to comm Ben Kenobi to stay the absolute kriff away from the homestead for now.

It was at least possible that Vader – Anakin – whichever would be more interested in his very much alive and present son he was reconnecting with than a mention of an absent Kenobi somewhere else on the planet who made Luke toys.

Kenobi here? The fight would destroy the homestead, and that would make it considerably more difficult to keep Luke safe… even with how the difficulty of that had jumped significantly in the last ten minutes.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BRUCE WAYNE | BATFAMILY (generalized fanon)

—

Going to Carnival w/ Bruce + some of the other bats (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

Headcanons

SFW, established relationship(s), BATMOM, vigilante coordination, fluff, vacation, caribbean setting, civilian shenanigans, dancing, ✨the Fox Family ✨ -caribbean!reader

Mind my choppy ass yanking; it’s the story of my life, just go with it. Pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (Pic source — Batman Vs Robin & Justice League: War DCAMU)

In true Bruce fashion he does extensive research for the occasion. He wants everything to go perfectly and can’t help but to obsess like the Batman he is.

He has to plan every last detail to make sure you have a brilliant time on your trip, obviously, but he also needs to make sure things with the rest of the Bats, Wayne Enterprises, the Justice League, and Arkham and Blackgate facilities will be okay while he’s gone. Gotham cannot fucking explode, implode, none of that shit while he’s on vacation; Bruce would never forgive himself.

Before you leave you give Bruce strict instructions that there is to be no working during your trip unless an emergency comes up. Predominantly - not wanting to disrupt what Dick has going on away from Gotham without good reason - you ask Jason to pull on the cowl for a day or two, to expand his usual patrol route as Red Hood, to keep in active contact with Stephanie (and maybe Kate), and to coordinate more closely with Barbara while Bruce is away.

In return for them picking up Bruce’s slack (more than usual, considering your husband has blind spots in his vigilantism that you are under no delusions about) you promise everyone something.

Steph her first handcrafted silver sterling bangle, Jason some fresh preserved lemongrass (some of which you’ll have to smuggle probably; but Bruce had a private jet for a reason and bringing regional herbs back to the States for his crime lord son, as someone who amounts to a long standing criminal himself, was by far the least illegal thing he’d done ever), to cover Barbara’s shifts as Oracle on coms for a few days while she’s away with the Birds of Prey, and to bring Kate back an island made covah/muumuu (in maroon) for the favor she was doing you.

Kate’s involvement at all is mostly due to her having been in the city by chance as Bruce was setting his vacation plans in motion; her and Luke happening to have just finished up their own mission overseas.

Superman is also aware that Bats is out of the country and is keeping an ear out (though he isn’t supposed to intervene without Jason or Babs asking with the exception of anything catastrophic happening so Superman isn’t indisposed without good reason). Neither you, nor Bruce, had needed to ask him either. Clark had heard all about how much Bruce was driving himself and, as a result, you up the wall for your (much needed in Bruce’s case) vacation from Lois after you’d spent half of Girl’s Night with her, Tanya, and Iris bemoaning your partner’s paranoia.

He’s straight up bemused when he's informed about Batman being “indisposed” for a week, but agrees to look out for the gloomy city while he’s away, and is smirking when he reminds Bruce to try letting that stick go lax for once while he’s in the tropics with you.

Bruce flushes to his ears and you laugh until you start to hack up a lung, hanging off of him as he holds you up by the waist and glares at his best friend. Clark plays dump like a master though, and eventually Bruce just has to grumble about him as you drag him back to the car to finish some last minute planning in Gotham.

Really, far too much work goes into just Bruce alone taking this trip with you. You can’t even imagine the hassle getting the other Bats you're close to down to your island for a visit will be.

You only get stopped by a handful of people during the trip as a whole (mostly visiting Americans), but the majority of people don’t recognize Bruce since he’s Gotham royalty. Because of this he doesn’t have to put on the Brucie persona outside of whatever expensive suite you’re staying in, and he doesn’t have to be Batman during the trip either, which helps him relax significantly better since he can just be Bruce. Like this he gets to be a regular person more than he’d usually get the opportunity to be when spending mundane civilian time as a couple (and as a family) in public.

The moment Damian sees more than two wild dogs Bruce and you have to pull out the ‘no picking up strays’ lecture because even through the rear view mirror you can see the glint in his eyes.

Bruce plans for Damian (and Duke, if he’s able to pull him away) to attend Children’s Parade. If Duke comes he squints at you the second the announcer explains which event exactly he’s at, but you just stare at him right back and remind him that he is a child and that he needs to get up out your face and go do child shit already.

Damian is rather worse, but you lead the group closer to the steelpan players warming up and soon his complaining is drowned out by the beginnings of music. He stops speaking to glower at you and you only raise a brow alongside Bruce before he eventually gives in with a huff. Duke pats him on the back and leads him away to ‘go do child shit’.

Damian likes the parade, even at fourteen he’s not too old for that much despite the clear interest he tries to play off. And while he’s not going to be mystified by the Moko Jumbies (which you didn’t expect him to be) the fourteen year old does fully lock onto them when they come walking by and playing around on their stilts and decked in their colorful clothing and madras.

Cass agrees to come (mostly because she likes you, and also because Duke pouted about it) and ends up loving the majorettes. She follows every single group and cheers within her own limits the entire time.

Cass follows so closely to the steelpan players during their performance that you’re genuinely worried for her eardrums until you glance at Bruce worryingly and he gestures to his ears in explanation. Ear plugs; shed be alright.

Cass (and Luke) leave to go deal with some business that needs her that the Outsiders are dealing with, and instructs you fully to keep Bruce out of the loop until you get back from the trip, poking fun at Bruce before she leaves to go flaunt her expertise.

Duke is disappointed she’s going and that he won’t be able to meet up with the Outsiders again, but when you try nudging him to leave he shoots you down. They didn’t need him, he reasons. Plus, it was rare he ever got a true break from being Signal so he planned on taking advantage of the occasion— and vehemently stomping down the misplaced guilt he was feeling bcs of that with some help from Bruce.

Duke doesn’t tell you, and neither does Damian, but your youngest isn’t as aggrieved as he *thinks* he should be about the break from fighting villains and running around on rooftops that he’s taking either, even more so than Duke right then.

After Cass is gone you guys lose Duke and Dami for a solid three hours. Most every call to them is answered, but only with a cryptic reassurance that they aren’t doing anything illegal. When they finally do come back they keep mum about what they were up to but smell suspiciously of soot.

Bruce fully suspects that they managed to get into the building where the fireworks and pyrotechnics are being kept. You give the boys a stern look but make Bruce let it go since nothing actually managed to go up in flames, and because you’re sure they had a good reason (*cue mom glare*).

Duke might not be your son but he still helps Damian bribe you with some of the foods you haven’t been able to have as authentically in Gotham until you convince Bruce to let them run off again.

Shock of all shocks (not) Damian prefers coconut tarts.

Duke wants to like the pineapple tarts — because it’s “on brand” — but it’s the guava that wins him over.

Unlike his son Bruce is not a fan of any of the tarts, but you’ve long realized that he likes less obtrusive sweet things like banana fritters more.

Damian and Duke at random intervals intercept you and Bruce walking around to inquire about certain murals, art installations, or statues that you’re passing.

Duke also steadily extracts a promise from you to put together a playlist with all the soca music playing around ayo during the parade in it for him to listen to whenever he’s in a music mood. Shazam just wasn’t moving fast enough for him to collect the songs himself while also running around.

By the end of the night (ayo have been out since Carnival started) Duke has his face painted, there’s confetti in his hair, and he’s legitimately ready to go to sleep due to how hard he'd been ramping all over the place. In comparison, Damian’s neck is decorated with beaded necklace after beaded necklace, he’s eaten more tarts than you could keep track of, and is still as ready to conquer the night as ever.

Neither boy particularly likes the fireworks, though Duke is more forgiving since he’s mostly just tired. Bruce likes seeing the way you light up though. While you don’t stay all the way through the show you do stay for a good while because Bruce loves you and wants you to enjoy yourself.

You and Bruce attend Adult’s Parade on your own. Though you’re sure that the boys are getting up to trouble, also running off from where you’re all staying, since you only really have Lucious and Tanya free enough to verbally check up on and keep an eye on Damian and Duke (and their trackers). Lucious had volunteered to keep closer track of their positions during his months long leave — rather than Barbara having to do so when she needed to focus more on coordinating everyone back in Gotham — and Tanya hadn’t minded. It wasn’t like checking in actually stopped her and her husband from doing anything. Bruce promises them a care package anyway.

Bruce wouldn’t really like dancing in the parade circuit or being a part of a troop. He’d much rather prefer the other days of Carnival to attend with you specifically: live concert days, cultural nights, art galleries, and most especially touring any of the island's historical sights.

He’s not as generally excited about the food, but he does love (if you’re inclined) how partial you are to the options presented by all the food vendors and is more than willing to indulge you.

If there’s one available he’ll sign you guys up for a sightseeing relay race as a surprise. How good or bad of a surprise you view the race through your island’s various monuments and beaches depends on you. Honestly, there’s a high chance you didn’t even know they held a race for the event season.

All of these things are just a much more mellow way for Bruce to connect with you and for you both to share in your culture.

He will, however, absolutely not deny you going to dance with a troop at all despite participating in the parade not being his thing. Depending on what you want he either won’t or will come (and if he doesn’t it’s bcs you’ve gone with your friends or whatever), but if he does come Bruce will under no circumstances dance in front of so many people when he’s not having to put on the Brucie persona (which he certainly doesn’t want to put on whilst on vacation).

Mostly Bruce just goes with you but doesn’t dance (it’s hard to follow/track people on the sidelines behind gates and/or between people sitting or standing on the sides of the street to watch the parade).

Mostly lets you dress him begrudgingly. Though he does like matching with you he still isn’t used to being dressed so loudly and inconspicuously.

Bruce is dressed for the weather (only in all red) and wearing shades. His hair is all fluffy without any product in it and he’s wearing fishnets and streams of ribbons that match the ones you’re wearing with your full getup of colorful billowing fabrics, short clothes, and sequin adornments in matching with your troop/section of the parade and the band you’re dancing with.

He’s perfectly happy to hold onto things for you and others if need be and is otherwise not broody or anything. Even just getting him to have a little bounce in his step while walking with you is a win that’s easy to come by.

Bruce is also an absolute sight in fishnets. If the tabloid and gossip mags could see his abs in the colorful sleeveless fishnet “shirt” he’s got on under his short sleeve button up they’d be losing their minds as much as you are. He looks very nice and you tell him as much when you’re pinning and draping streams of colorful madras and printed fabric to the shoulders of his shirt.

In turn Bruce literally pauses mid call, earpiece in, when you come out of the bathroom dressed in your Carnival gear (or outfit, if you’re not a part of a more strict troop). In your shorts and colorful ribbons and ting you’re a vision and he nearly forgets to end his call before crowding you for a kiss.

The ribbons you’re wearing, and that you’ve pinned to Bruce as well, are traditionally reminiscent of maypole ribbons that your forebears had stripped the poles of in order to wear them in celebration of their freedom.

As opposed to wearing comfortable sneakers you’re in the pair of practical combat boots Bruce got you that you’ve decorated to be on theme with the rest of your getup. He is also in those same boots in his own size.

Alternatively, if you’re wearing feathers and an intricate headpiece then Bruce is wearing an approximation of your costume too. He’s still dressed in an expensive pair of board shorts and a linen short sleeve button down, but now he’d be in all black with his only pops of bright colors being from the parts of his outfit that match what you’re wearing. You’re both wearing matching arm/leg bracers & the same feathers you used have been adorned to make a little crown at the back of his head like the one you’re wearing.

Bruce is decked out with jewel accents and sequins too and you're almost shocked at how much he’s indulged you by the time you're finished getting him ready.

To match with the brightly colored boot covers you’re wearing to match the main feathers of your troop’s costumes you give him similarly colored ribbons to tie to the tops of his boots. It’s cute, and you tell Bruce as much just so you can see him blush.

No matter how you’re dressed Bruce stays compliant as you help get him together; letting you talk in circles at his continued prompting about the history steeped into the event you’re getting ready for. His voice is soft as he leads you into explaining the reasons behind the various things you’re decorating him with for the celebration.

Because Bruce isn’t fully matching with the troop he stays at the back of the line (though this does depend on how strict the troop is). You move throughout as you please while dancing and looking uniform with the other women you’re with, but you still gravitate back into Bruce’s orbit intermittently as well.

Bruce absolutely lets you dance on him even though he’s not dancing himself, and he also brings wipes for whenever you drop down to your hands to wukup with your hands to the ground and ass to the air or lose your balance while dancing low to the ground and have to catch yourself.

He loves watching, and he is both happy you’re happy and very eager to get you alone again. You don’t have to hold back or tamp yourself down with Bruce.

If you’re less built for long term walking, or older and been with Bruce for a hot minute, you’re going to end up on Bruce’s back at some point, your knees just aren’t up for the journey the way your spirit is. He’s happy to carry you, and it’s his insistence when he sees you starting to limp or asking for whatever walking aid you might have that gets you hanging off his shoulders in the first place.

You are absolutely no less wutless up there, however, and Bruce only laughs and hikes you up more securely as you cheer and wukup and wine your waist as he’s carrying you. This was a celebration of freedom and emancipation after all, you were going to be as excited and hype as you could possibly be.

From your new vantage point you kiss him on the cheek too and he’s smiling ear to ear the whole time.

When you go to the other events outside of the parades Bruce is more of an active participant.

At concerts Bruce hums. He’s not somehow immune to music or anything, and he tends to hum whenever he lets his mind wander no matter how scarcely he actually allows himself to relax that thoroughly even when you’re back in Gotham. So you’re not shocked when he starts humming while you’re enjoying the live concert music.

When he becomes attuned enough to the rhythms he sways, movements unhurried and gentle, and pulls you closer until you’re both rocking. His arms wrapped around your middle, his warmth at your back, and voice in your ear are a greater balm to your spirit than most anything else on the entire planet and you let Bruce support a lot of your weight as you sing along to the musical acts you're familiar with.

He’s stiff as a board the second you try dragging him into full blown dancing, however. You only laugh at him staring at you like you’re about to announce he’s Batman to the whole of the island, and you know it’s about time you guys find some place to sit down (and hopefully eat) since you’ve been out since daybreak.

Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas, so it is near impossible to get his backside drunk by any normal means. Due to this you don’t really end up drunk either, you just end up feeding him sips of half shots of different flavors of rum and have a blast as he rates them while ayo laugh together and listen to people pound melee around you and eat your dinner.

Come to find out Bruce cannot stand coconut rum. You’re thinking coconut and him just don’t agree, and vow to crack one open fresh so he can try some coconut jelly as the real test of his preference.

Throughout the entire trip Bruce actually likes the tan he develops, no matter how used you both are to his Gotham pallor.

The darker, richer, sheen to the brown plains of your skin that you develop over the course of the trip throws Bruce similarly into a tailspin as his tan does you. He loves it, and your new shine coupled with just how much more radiant your excitement at being back in your element has made you has him calling you all variations of beautiful more often than is even his usual (which is saying something because your husband can’t get enough of you and makes a point of never letting you forget).

You also catch Bruce checking in on everyone’s nighttime activities back in Gotham two days in and can only sigh as you press his computer closed and cock your eyebrow at him. He at least has the sense to look embarrassed, grunting a short excuse before he apologizes. The rest of your trip goes on without a hitch after that, however (as far as you know).

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!! I’m nervous about this one, I’m not even going to lie, but whatever.

Anyway, I have other characters I want to put in this type of scenario as well so let me know if there’s anything specific you’d maybe like to see. This isn’t all encompassing either, but just what’s come to me by now.

Also, I want to write for the Foxes, but I’ve got to read up on them more before then so it’ll be a while. Also also, we’re going to pretend like all of these characters’ lives are actually stable — and that Tanya in particular doesn’t despise masked vigilantes because I’m allowed to want that (tho that might only be Future State timeline shit so idk).

This fic has a series tag so if you’d like to read the other festival/carnival entries then clicking on that tag would be how you’d find them.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Caribbean words of the Day (ie: the glossary):

“Ayo” (pronounced “īˈyō” 2 syllables) — meaning and use equivalent to “you all” or “y’all”. There’s also a greater origin to where the word as a whole comes from but I’m not going to get into all of that rn.

“Nuh Raas” — I don’t really have a direct translation for this one; the most I can do is compare its use to “like fuck” or “as hell” and other comparative sayings like those. It’s a way to further exaggerate something; think “very”.

EX: “Bruce’s tolerance is very high.” = “Bruce’s tolerance is high nuh raas.” 🤷🏾‍♀️

“Pound Melee” — the action of gossiping; seriously talking other people’s business or talking shit.

“Wutless” — Meaning ‘troublesome’; a

Caribbean slang, also means to not care profoundly about anything, and just having a hell of a time not caring what anyone says or thinks of you. (def taken from here, though I spelt it differently bcs that how I hear it)

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean*

[storiesforallfandoms]

freedom ~ oberyn martell;game of thrones

part one

word count: 2608

request?: a single person asked if there would be a part two so yes?

description: in which she finally gets to enjoy her freedom with the man she loves

pairing: oberyn martell x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, lil bit of dirty talk from oberyn teehee

masterlist (one, two, three)

The sun shining in through the open window stirred her from her sleep. She wasn't sure what time it was, but judging by how groggy she felt, she had definitely been asleep for a very long time. It was the first night since the evening before Joffrey's wedding that she had slept in an actual bed.

(Y/N) and Oberyn's plan had gone way better than she was expecting. She did as Oberyn told her and packed one bag of her most essential things. Oberyn had one of his men take it to the carriage so that non of Cersei's servants would catch (Y/N) doing it. She sat through the ceremony with the best fake smile pained on her face the entire time. The second the ceremony ended, (Y/N) slipped away while Cersei was distracted and they started their journey back to Dorne immediately.

It was a long journey spanning a number of days. They only stopped to rest a handful of times as Oberyn insisted on going for as long as the horses could stand so the risk of being caught by the Lannister men that Cersei was undoubtably going to send after them. (Y/N) was tense the entire time and wasn't able to relax until they reached Dorne.

Oberyn's brother, Prince Doran, was waiting for them when their carriage arrived. Oberyn had just stepped out when Doran said, "We received a message from King's Landing about the kidnapped Lannister girl."

"I kidnapped no one," Oberyn said. "She came with me willingly because she was being terribly abused by the Queen."

"The former Queen," (Y/N) corrected as she stepped out beside Oberyn. "Now that Joffrey is wed, Cersei is no longer Queen." She turned to Doran and curtsied. "My Lord."

Doran nodded in response. "Lady (Y/N). We hoped my brother wasn't so stupid as to kidnap a Lannister the day of the young kind's wedding."

"What Oberyn says is true. I have come with him of my own free will to escape my sister. She is claiming my capture so that y ou will send me back to her and will punish Oberyn so he cannot come for me again. I do not wish to go back, not ever. I will attest to this myself to my family back in King's Landing if you wish."

Doran looked between the two of them. He took a deep breath and said, "They will come."

"I will speak to them," (Y/N) insisted. "They cannot take me by force."

"They will not take her by force," Oberyn interjected.

Doran nodded. "I pledge my full support to you. I just hope you know what you are doing, brother."

Oberyn had brought her to a room that would be her own for the time being. He had promised her they would share a bed in due time, but he would not do so until they were properly courted. She would have argued further, but she was so tired and her body was aching from the long carriage ride, so all she wanted was to lay down in a soft bed.

Now that she was waking up from such a long slumber, it took a few moment for her to remember where she was. When she did remember, she smiled to herself. She was so giddy with happiness to finally be free and not feel so stuck and trapped in Westeros anymore.

A knock came at the door. She beckoned for them to come in, thinking (or rather hoping) that it was Oberyn. she was surprised when a lady she did not recognize stepped into her room.

"I am sorry for the intrusion, my lady," the woman said, bowing to (Y/N). "My name is Kenziah. I will be your handmaiden. I was told to come prepare you for a meeting in the Prince's throne room."

"Has something happened?" (Y/N) asked.

"Your father arrived early this morning, my lady. He requested a meeting with you and both Princes."

(Y/N) was quick to get out of bed and allow Kenziah to dress her. She tried to keep a brave face as she was led to Prince Doran's throne room. Doran was sat on his own throne while Oberyn was stood next to him. A tall figure was back on to (Y/N) as she walked in, but she didn't need him to turn around to recognize who it was.

Tywin Lannister looked down at his daughter as she entered the room. "My daughter, you have caused quite a disturbance."

"So I have heard," (Y/N) said. "I apologize if I disrupted Joffrey's wedding day. That was not my plan. Truthfully, I did not think Cersei would even notice my absence."

"You severely underestimate your sister then."

(Y/N) brushed past her father to stand next to Oberyn. She held her head high as she addressed Tywin, "I know what Cersei has tried to say about my disappearance. I am saying to you, father, that I willingly left with Oberyn to come to Dorne. I am not under any sort of duress, and I will not be returning to King's Landing with you."

Tywin raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" (Y/N) nodded. "King Joffrey could order for your return."

"He would have to come take her himself," Doran cut in. "But he would have to go through the Dorne army."

"Are you threatening the king?" Tywin asked.

"No, I am protecting one of my own."

(Y/N) glanced between Tywin and Doran. Oberyn was silent beside her, but he had moved closer, protectively. For the first time in her life, (Y/N) actually felt cared for and safe.

Tywin's gaze moved to his daughter. "Is this truly your wish, my child? To stay in Dorne with the young prince?"

"I cannot go back to that palace, father. It was my prison, and I have finally escaped from it. I will not return to King's Landing willingly, and if you try to force me, I will fight back to the best of my abilities."

Tywin nodded. "I cannot force you to do anything against your will, (Y/N)."

"Will you tell Cersei that?"

To her surprise, Tywin nodded again. "If this is what you truly want, then no one else shall bother you while you're here."

(Y/N) bowed her head. "Thank you father."

Tywin paused a moment as he started to leave. (Y/N) wondered if he would say anything more. But he merely nodded to Doran and Oberyn before turning to leave the room. When he was gone, (Y/N) finally allowed her body to relax. Oberyn took her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

"You are officially free, little lion."

~~~~~~

(Y/N) was sat in front of a mirror as Kenziah braided her hair. It had been a full day since she had arrived and she was already feeling more at home than she ever had in King's Landing. Oberyn had sent Dornish clothes for her to wear, and she was currently wearing one that was a similar color to the robe Oberyn had been wearing when they first met.

Now that she had been able to properly settle in after their long journey and Twyin's visit, Oberyn had called for (Y/N) to meet him outside of Water Gardens, their palace. She had a feeling she knew what this meeting was about, and the thought alone made her very giddy.

"You are trembling, my lady," Kenziah said. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Kenziah, thank you," (Y/N) said. "I am just feeling nervous to see Oberyn is all."

"Nervous? But you seemed very fond of him before."

"I am fond of him! I guess nervous may be the wrong word. I feel a number of things about seeing him, because I know he will likely ask me to be his wife today. He said when we returned to Dorne that he would court me and make me his wife."

Kenziah smiled. "He does seem to feel very strongly for you, my lady. I see the way he looks at you."

(Y/N) smiled to herself as well. She had noticed the ways in which Oberyn looked at her, and every time it made her melt a little. She had never felt so infatuated with anyone before. The thought of being so close to him asking her to marry him made her insides feel fuzzy and warm.

When Kenziah finished braiding her hair, she placed a few flowers in the braids. "There, all finished."

(Y/N) moved to look at her hair in the mirror. She was almost surprised by the reflection looking back at her. She looked so beautiful, and she felt it, too. It was almost as if she was meant to be in Dorne, she just had to find a way to get there.

"Thank you, Kenziah," she said.

"You're welcome, my lady."

When she was sure she was ready, Kenziah brought (Y/N) to where Oberyn was waiting for her. He looked just as handsome as ever, almost glowing under the Dornish sun as he looked out at a pond below them. When she approached, he turned to her and smiled.

"You look beautiful, my little lion," he said. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, pressing a light kiss on her knuckles. It sent a spark through her entire body and made her hand feel like it was tingling.

"Thank you," she said. "I really love the clothes you sent for me. Dorian wear is so much nicer than what I had back in the palace."

"It suits you better, too. Like you were meant to wear it."

(Y/N) was smiling so much her cheeks were hurting. Oberyn beckoned for her to come closer. She did, moving as close to him as she could dare. She gasped when he put his hands on her hips and moved her so that she was stood right in front of him. His body was pressing against her backside, and she felt like she was weak in the knees from the feeling.

"I wanted to show you what I was looking at," he told her, his mouth dangerously close to her ear. He pointed towards the pond. "Just down there."

She was having a hard time concentrating on what it was he was trying to show her. His closeness was making her very dizzy. But she tried her best and managed to make her eyes focus on the pond. It was full of children, splashing around and laughing. She wasn't quite sure what he was trying to show her, until she spotted a familiar young girl with a head full of blonde hair.

She gasped. "Myrcella."

Myrcella was Cersei's middle child, and only daughter. Cersei adored Myrcella more than (Y/N) had seen her adore anyone in her life. When she had been sent away to Dorne to be a bride to Doran's son, Trystane, Cersei was practically inconsolable. It was the only time (Y/N) had ever seen weakness from her sister.

But Myrcella was also much different than her mother, or her older brother for that matter. She had a heart of gold and she cared very much for the people around her. That included (Y/N), much to Cersei's displeasure. (Y/N) loved her niece dearly. She had almost abandoned hope of ever seeing her again.

"She has been taken care of here," Oberyn assured (Y/N). "We will wait until she and my nephew come of age before they wed. Until then, she gets to live the life of a child."

"Why are you telling me this?" (Y/N) asked. While she was definitely glad to see her niece, this was not where she expected this conversation to go.

"She spoke very highly of you. Ever since she arrived, she has voiced how much she has missed her mother and her aunt. I can tell she is not like her mother, so I figured seeing her would be a welcome surprise."

With his hands still on her waist, Oberyn spun (Y/N) around so that she was facing him. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies were still pressed so close together. (Y/N) found herself feeling something she had never felt before; a tingling sensation between her legs. Looking up into Oberyn's eyes, she wanted nothing more than to start kissing him, and to beg for him to touch her and make the feeling go away.

She had a feeling that he would know exactly how to pleasure her, and that thought made her feel even more weak.

"I want you to be happy here," he told her.

"I am happy," she assured him. "As long as I am with you, I can't be happier. You have saved me, Oberyn. Truly."

He smiled. "And I am glad that I have."

When he lowered his head towards her, (Y/N) wasted no time in closing the space between them. She kissed him so deeply that she made herself dizzy by doing it. His hands had moved from her waist to the small of her back, holding her to him. She could've stayed like this forever if that were possible.

When he broke away, she inadvertently let out a whine. He chuckled at her desperate sound. "I will kiss you as much as you wish, my little lion. But first, I do have a promise to keep."

He stepped away from her. Her body suddenly felt cold without him so close. He held her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes as he spoke, "I told you that when we arrived to Dorne, I would properly court you and wed you. I believe I have successfully courted you already, so that just leaves us with one last step."

"Yes," (Y/N) blurted. Oberyn was amused by her outburst. "If it was not obvious, I very much want to marry you, Oberyn."

"I had a feeling," he teased. "I spoke with my brother already to get his blessing as well. We will have the wedding in a few days time."

"Can we do it now instead?"

Oberyn shook his head, an amused smile on his face. "My dear, sweet little lion. You must have patience. You must know what it takes to put a wedding together, especially one for people of royal blood such as us. Besides, I do not think you should wish to rush into marriage this quickly."

(Y/N) furrowed her brows at him. "Why?"

He stepped closer to her again. He leaned into her ear and dropped his voice to say, "Because once we are wed, I no longer have to worry about defiling your innocence. I may keep you in my bed for many days and nights before I decide to let you have a break from me, and even then I may only decide that because you are carrying my child."

(Y/N) stumbled a little and Oberyn was quick to catch her.

"You are mistaken, my love," she told him. "That only makes me wish for us to be married much sooner."

Oberyn cupped her face and pulled her for a kiss.

"I promise, my little lion, I will make the wait worth it," he said. "For now, you will just have to settle for stolen kisses."

"I will take anything as long as it is from you."

They kissed once more, and (Y/N) finally got to revel in the fact that she was finally getting her own happy ending.

[misswynters]

The Bastard Daughter

Davos/Benjicot Blackwood x fem!reader

[ SYNOPSIS: You were born the bastard daughter of Prince daemon, and the elder half sister to baela and rhaena. Once you got married to your betrothed, Benjicot, you took your little brother, whom you shared a mom, with you. Aerys is ten years younger than you, however you raised him since he was a babe. Due to your mother, Lysa Tully, dying in childbirth.

[ WARNING: almost kidnapping, non-canon character death, mentions of blood, stabbing, kinda sloppy writing…

[ REQUESTED: by anonymous

The halls of Raventree Hall bustle with activity as preparations for the upcoming journey to Dragonstone are in full swing. You walk briskly through the corridors, your mind occupied with the heavy responsibilities placed upon your shoulders. As the recognized bastard daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen, you have always been aware of the weight your lineage carries. Riding the wild dragon, Cannibal, only adds to the mystique and danger that surrounds you. But today, it is your duty as a mother and sister that weighs most heavily on your heart.

Benjicot Blackwood, your husband and the Lord of Raventree Hall, is in the courtyard, overseeing the preparations. His tall figure, with dark hair and a stern expression, exudes a sense of authority and protectiveness that has always comforted you. When he catches sight of you, his eyes soften, and he approaches you with a reassuring smile.

"Everything is almost ready," Benjicot says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Are you sure about this?"

You nod, though a knot of worry sits in your stomach. "Rhaenyra has asked us to send our son and my brother to the Vale with her own sons. They will be safer there, with their dragons."

Benjicot frowns slightly but nods. "If this is what you believe is best, then we will do it. They will be safe, I promise you that."

Your son, Eddric, and your younger brother, Aerys, are playing nearby, their laughter a small comfort amidst the tension. The younger one, Eddric was six years his junior. However both boys are strong and brave, with the fierce spirit of their Targaryen bloodline, but they are still young.

As the day progresses, you make your way to Dragonstone. The sight of the imposing fortress fills you with a mix of awe and apprehension. You know that not everyone will welcome your presence or the presence of your brother and son. Baela and Rhaena, in particular, have never hidden their disdain for you and Aenys.

Upon arriving, you are greeted by Rhaenyra herself. Her warm smile is a balm to your nerves. "Thank you for coming," she says. "As you know we must ensure the safety of our children."

You exchange polite greetings before making your way inside. As expected, Baela and Rhaena are there, their expressions hardening when they see you. The tension is palpable as you introduce Eddric and Aerys to Rhaenyra’s sons, Jacaerys and Joffrey.

"The Vale is no place for these boys," Baela says sharply, her gaze fixed on you. "They are meaningless, having no worth.”

Rhaena hesitantly nods in agreement. "We cannot risk our lives for them."

You step forward, your chin held high. "They are targaryens, just like the rest of us. They have a right to be part of this."

Before the argument can escalate further, Benjicot steps in, his presence commanding the room. "These boys are my family," he says firmly. "I have raised them, protected them, and I will not allow anyone to speak against their place here."

Baela glares at him. "This is not about you, Benjicot. It is about their safety."

Benjicot’s eyes flash with anger. "And I say they will be safe in the Vale. We also have dragons."

The room falls silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Rhaenyra steps forward, placing a calming hand on Baela's arm. "We must trust in each other," she says softly. "Our family will be stronger together."

Reluctantly, Baela and Rhaena nod, though their expressions remain tight. You take a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief.

As the preparations continue, you find a moment alone with Benjicot. He takes your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Don’t pay mind to them" he says quietly. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief.

The following day, the courtyard is a hive of activity as the handmaidens, servants and riders prepare for the journey. Cannibal, your imposing dragon, stands apart everyone, his dark scales absorbing the morning sunlight. Eddric and Aerys are wide-eyed with excitement and nervousness, as the elder of the two clasped his hands onto the reins of his dragon. Your son then made his way towards his father.

You walked towards aerys and kneeled before him, smoothing his unruly hair. "Stay close," you instruct him. "And listen to Benjicot and me at all times."

Aenys nods solemnly, his face set with determination. "I will, sister."

Eddric, standing beside his father, looks towards at him. "Will you fly like mother?"

Benjicot smiles, ruffling Eddric’s hair. "Sadly i cannot my brave boy. We will be riding the carriage together."

As you mounted cannibal, you watched as aerys soared through the sky following behind, the wind whipping through your hair. The journey to the Vale is long and arduous, but the sight of the mountains and the Eyrie in the distance fills you with a sense of purpose. Aerys, riding his dragon, was a sight to behold, his youthful enthusiasm blending with the raw power of his mounts. You smiled with pride as his older sister.

Upon arrival, you are greeted by Lady Jeyne Arryn, who welcomes you warmly. The Eyrie, perched high in the mountains, feels like a safe haven amidst the chaos of the realm. The children quickly settle into their new surroundings, as the dragons roosting nearby.

A few days have passed, and the children begin their training in earnest. Under Benjicot’s watchful eye, they practice their swordsmanship and horse riding, their skills improving with each passing day. You spend your time teaching them the history and traditions of House Targaryen, ensuring they understand the legacy they are a part of.

That evening, as the sun sets over the mountains, you find a moment alone with Benjicot. You stand together on a balcony, overlooking the Vale. The sight is breathtaking, but your thoughts are heavy with the weight of your responsibilities.

Benjicot takes your hand, his touch grounding you. "You’ve done well," he says softly. "Aerys and Eddric are safe, and they are learning. You should be proud."

You sigh, leaning into him. "I am proud, but I worry. The realm is in turmoil, and our family is scattered."

Benjicot’s grip tightens on your hand. "With time, we shall be together again. Your family and mine are strong, and we will fearlessly protect each other."

His words are a comfort, and you find strength in his unwavering support. Together, you watch the sunset, the promise of a new day bringing hope.

Tensions remain high between you and Baela and Rhaena. Despite Rhaenyra’s efforts to mediate, old wounds run deep. One afternoon, as you are helping Aerys with his dragon, you overhear Baela speaking with Rhaena.

"They don’t belong here," Baela says, her voice sharp. "They are not true Targaryens."

You feel a surge of anger but force yourself to remain calm. Stepping forward, you address Baela directly. "We are as much Targaryens as you. Our blood is the same, and we have the right to be here."

Baela’s eyes narrow. "Your mother was not a princess. You are a bastard."

“But she was noble, even so… share the same father Baela,” You told her as you rubbed your forehead due to stress. Benjicot steps in, his presence a wall of protection. "Enough," he says, his voice cold. "This bickering helps no one. We are here to prepare for the future. We need to stand as a family."

Baela looks ready to argue, but Rhaena places a hand on her arm, silently urging her to back down. With a huff, Baela turns and stalks away, leaving you and Benjicot standing together.

You turn to Benjicot, your heart heavy. "Thank you," you say quietly. "I don’t know what I would do without you." He pulls you into an embrace, his strength and warmth enveloping you.

The days turn into weeks, a sense of routine settles over the Eyrie. The children continue their training, and the bonds between them grow stronger. The hostility from Baela and Rhaena lessens, though it never fully disappears.

As you gather for dinner, Jeyne makes an announcement. "I have received word from Dragonstone. We must prepare for a council meeting. Our presence is requested by the queen to discuss the future of the realm." The news sends a ripple of tension through the room. You exchange a glance with Benjicot, knowing that this council meeting could change everything.

However journey back is fraught with anticipation. Cannibal is flying in a calm but steady manner. Upon arriving at the Dragonstone, you are struck by the gravity of the situation. The council chamber is filled with lords, their faces a mix of hope and fear.

Rhaenyra takes her place at the head of the table, her presence commanding respect. As discussions begin, it becomes clear that the realm is on the brink of war. Alliances must be forged, and plans must be made. When it is your turn to speak, you step forward, your voice steady.

"My husband and I have brought our family and dragons to support the cause," you say. "We stand with Rhaenyra, and we will fight for the future of the realm."

Your words are met with murmurs of approval, and you feel a sense of pride and determination. As the council meeting continues, you steal a glance at your husband. Benjicot meets your gaze, a small smile playing on his lips.

After the council meeting concluded, you flew ahead back to the Eyrie. It The moon hangs high in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the imposing structure of the Eyrie. All is quiet as the inhabitants of the castle sleep, unaware of the danger creeping closer. In the children's chambers, Eddric and Aenys sleep soundly, the fatigue from their rigorous training finally taking its toll.

Suddenly, a faint sound disturbs the silence – the creak of a door opening. Shadows slip into the room, figures cloaked in darkness, moving with the practiced stealth of seasoned kidnappers. They are after the children, seeking to exploit their value as dragon riders and Targaryen blood.

Aerys stirs, sensing the intruders, but before he can fully wake, a rough hand clamps over his mouth. His eyes fly open in terror, and he struggles futilely against his captor. Eddric is also grabbed, his startled cry muffled as he is lifted from his bed.

The kidnappers move quickly, their actions rehearsed and precise. They bind the boys' hands and gag them to prevent any cries for help. The children are carried through the darkened halls, the intruders avoiding patrols and sentries with an eerie familiarity of the castle’s layout.

In the courtyard, the kidnappers approach their hidden escape route. The dragons, knowing their companions are in danger, begin to stir restlessly in their nearby roosts. The beasts' low growls and shifting shapes go unnoticed by the kidnappers, who are focused solely on their escape.

One of the dragons, Cannibal, is particularly sensitive to the distress of its riders. The ancient, fearsome beast senses the peril its bonded humans face and lets out a thunderous roar that echoes through the mountains, shaking the very stones of the Eyrie.

The roar rouses you and Benjicot from your sleep. You leap from bed, your heart pounding with dread. "The boys!" you exclaim, already moving toward the door. Benjicot is right behind you, his face a mask of determination and fury.

Rushing into the courtyard, you are met with chaos. Dragons are roaring, their eyes glowing with rage, and guards are scrambling to understand the source of the commotion. You spot the kidnappers just as they reach the edge of the courtyard, your children still struggling in their grasp.

"Stop them!" you shout, your voice piercing the night air.

Benjicot draws his sword, his eyes blazing with fury. "Let them go!" he roars, charging toward the kidnappers.

The intruders, realizing they have been discovered, hasten their movements. One of them draws a dagger, pressing it to Aerys throat. "Stay back, or the boy dies!" the kidnapper threatens.

Your heart clenches with fear, but you refuse to back down. "You will not harm them," you declare, stepping forward with a fierce resolve. "Let them go, and you might live."

Cannibal lands heavily behind you, the ground shaking under his weight. The sight of the massive, menacing dragon causes the kidnappers to falter, their courage wavering in the face of such a formidable beast.

Benjicot takes advantage of their hesitation, lunging forward with a swift, precise strike. He disarms the kidnapper holding Aerys, pulling the boy to safety. You rush to Eddric, freeing him from his captor's grasp and shielding him with your body.

The remaining kidnappers, seeing their plan unraveling and the dragons closing in, decide to flee. They sprint toward the forest, abandoning their mission in the face of certain death.

With the danger passed, you hold Eddric and Aerys towards you, your heart still racing. Benjicot stands beside you, his sword at the ready, eyes scanning the surroundings for any remaining threats.

"You’re safe now," you whisper to the boys, trying to soothe their trembling forms. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Benjicot kneels beside you, his expression softening as he looks at the children. "We will always protect you," he promises, his voice firm and reassuring.

Eddric clings to you, his voice shaking. "They were going to take us away," he says, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Aerys, though shaken, lifts his chin defiantly. "We’re not afraid," he declares, his young voice filled with the courage of his Targaryen heritage. "We have dragons."

You and Benjicot exchange a look of profound relief, as the boy . Despite the terror of the night, the four of you had emerged stronger through fear.

The day came to a close and it was the next morning, a beautiful crisp autumn day at the Eyrie, the air filled with the rustle of leaves and the distant roars of dragons. You watch Aerys and Eddric from a distance as they train, their laughter and determination a constant source of joy.

The boys have become inseparable, their friendship growing stronger with each passing day. Suddenly, a commotion erupts near the main gate. You see a group of strangers, dressed in dark cloaks, pushing their way through the guards.

Your heart races as you recognized the danger. The attackers move swiftly, drawing swords and pushing past the guards with brutal efficiency.

"Stay here!" you shout to Eddric, who is standing frozen in shock. You run towards Aerys, who is closer to the intruders, your mind racing with fear.

Before you can reach him, one of the attackers grabs Aerys. The boy struggles, his fists pounding against the assailant. "Let me go!" Aerys screams, his voice filled with terror. The boy then grabbed tried to grab his dagger to stab his attacker on the leg. However it wasn’t enough.

You draw your sword and charge at the attacker, your heart pounding in your chest. But before you can reach them, the man uses the boys dagger and plunges it into Aerys chest.

"No!" you scream, your voice breaking as you watch your brother collapse to the ground.

You reach Aerys side, dropping to your knees and cradling him in your arms. His eyes are wide with pain and fear, blood staining his tunic.

"Aerys, stay with me," you plead, tears streaming down your face. "Please, don't leave me."

Aerys's hand reaches up to touch your face, his fingers trembling. "I... I'm scared," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

"I know, little brother. I know," you say, your voice breaking. "I'm here. I love you."

Aerys's eyes flutter closed, and his hand falls away. You hold him close, your heart shattered as you realize he's gone.

The courtyard is silent, the attackers having fled. Benjicot arrives, his face pale with shock as he takes in the scene. He drops to his knees beside you, his hand on your shoulder.

"We'll find them," he promises, his voice rough with grief and rage. "We'll make them pay for this."

But his words bring little comfort. The loss of Aerys is a wound too deep to heal, a pain that sears through your soul. You hold your brother's lifeless body, your tears falling onto his bloodstained tunic.

The sky is gray and somber as you stand beside Aerys's pyre, your heart heavy with sorrow. The dragons circle overhead, their mournful cries echoing through the mountains. The loss of Aerys has cast a dark shadow over the Eyrie, the grief palpable in the air.

You stand with Benjicot, Eddric by your side, his small hand clutching yours tightly. The boy's face is streaked with tears, his grief a mirror of your own. As the flames consume the pyre, you whisper a silent prayer for Aenys's soul, hoping he finds peace in the afterlife. The pain of his loss is a weight you carry with you, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the cruelty of the world.

The memory of Aerys's laughter, his bravery, and his love will stay with you always. And with Benjicot and Eddric by your side, you vow to honor your brother's memory by protecting them and fighting for the better of the realm.

You couldn’t help but place the blame of your little brothers death on someone, something. Why wasn’t there guards posted at Aerys and Eddrics chambers the night prior. How can two masked assailants just come into the courtyard unseen and unheard until it was too late. You wished you could blame someone, you really did.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @thornsandtulips

[a/n: sorry anon, i killed the readers brother :/, they really said let’s try again