#I would lose before he even gets a wood sword

[itsonlydana]

"Flower On My Skin" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑

Thranduil gets his hair braided and thinks too much.

warnings/tags: bittersweet, more fluff tho, swf, King Thranduil needs a break

words: 1,9k

an: this is a gift for the lovely @tigereyesf who always comments on my posts on ao3 🤍 the lyrics are from Noah Kahans song "Your needs, my needs'

+ masterlist +

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

Thranduil understands that permitting you to be near him might not be wise. It could very well rank among the least advisable decisions he's made in ages.

But he did, he invited you again and again, sending horses and carriages to transport you ever since he found out you traveled all the way from Dale by yourself whenever he sent a letter.

Until he didn't need to anymore.

Not because you wouldn't come, but because you didn't leave.

Never in a million years would anyone have guessed that the stoic Elvenking would invite a human to his palace on more occasions than his own kind and surely no one would have ever thought that he would start courting them.

Yet here he was, sitting in one of his many blooming gardens, swatting away the hand that was currently trying to gather his hair.

"Stop this," Thranduil's stern voice would've had any other shiver in fear of losing their head, though it only makes you giggle.

"Please, let me braid it again," you stable yourself with your hands on his shoulders and lean over, chest pressed against his strong back.

"No, you little nuisance. I shall not! You know of the meeting I will attend later, we do not have the time."

Even though he can't see your face, he knows you roll your eyes at him, he can feel it in the huff you let out before letting go of him. The warmth of your body disappears as you stand up from the bench and throw one challenging look over your shoulder.

Thranduil watches how you lift the skirts of the gown you're wearing, the finest of silks that you've adorned with little handmade bows from the village, and flop down into the grass. There is not one care on your face that the hems will surely stain and that there are perfectly suitable marmor benches all over the garden and only one of those occupied by Thranduil himself.

You seem to ignore them every time you two spend time out here, he noticed you are much more content with your naked feet buried in the high grass and your hair intertwined with the flowers that grow here.

At first, he couldn't understand the fascination you harbored with nature.

Of course, he had a deep appreciation for the forest surrounding his kingdom, the strong resistance of the trees had been an inspiration for the winding halls, the water flowing through the roots and gifting life and the ever so steady wind reminded someone who lived a thousand years that some things, though they change, never completely disappear.

You, on the other hand, could not be separated from nature in any way whatsoever. There had been the flowers, first only on your side of the bed when he'd invited you to sleep next to him, and one day he woke up to find a vase filled with Astilbe flowers on his nightstand and on his vanity as well.

You also spend most of your day either wandering through the woods (which left him restless and worried until you accepted the sword he had his blacksmith forge for you) or meeting him here in the gardens. He would never tell you but before you, he hadn't walked or maker-forbid, sat there for decades.

Now, he found himself soaking sunshine more days than not, reading Elvish poetry to you while you rested curled into his side with one of his hands brushing your hair, or, chasing you on his Elk through the forest, following the sound of your horse and your laughter.

Your infatuation with nature and the stubbornness of pulling him along made him fall for you, deeply and most ardently and he knew that one day he would need to survive the sight of forests and gardens and flowers without the urge to burn them to the ground for outliving you.

As he watches you examine the colorful flowers and gather them in your lap, he isn't sure if he will be able to contain that anger against the gods if the time comes.

You are oblivious to the dark clouds hanging onto his thoughts, he makes sure that you'll never see the heartbreak he lives through while loving you because he knows, he knows that you would do everything in your power to make him happy.

This is who you are, a human that lives and loves and pours all that you are into those around you, he sees it in the gentleness of your hands cupping the flowers before plucking them, in the way your tongue learned a new language for you wouldn't accept not studying it for an answer if you lived here.

You live to love and love to live.

Thranduil shifts, forgetting that there are guards stationed around the gardens who could see their King doing the unthinkable but he doesn't care.

Not with you sitting a few feet away from him, your dress spilled around you, a full smile on your face as you collect the flowers growing there for you, their little heads turning to you as if you are the sun for them as well, and not just for Thranduil.

If you notice him standing up, you give no sign, you don't even stop humming, and the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth at this stubbornness is far too strong to stop it.

"Melethril nîn," he says quietly and his shadow falls over your body. The symbolism and fear of him taking away the sun from you has him clench his jaw. His pain is impatient as if it doesn't know he's going to live longer than he wants to and that it has all the time to break him down.

He quickly shuts those thoughts away behind the sight of you tipping your head back to smirk at him.

This is not the time to dwell on the future, not if he can exist in the moments he shares with you instead of fearing the time when he'll have to think back on them.

"Don't tell me you missed me," you tease.

He scoffs and –surprising you enough to let out a squeak– lowers himself onto his knees next to you.

Eye to eye, he feels much more comfortable, despite the stains that he knows now graze his robes.

"You know," he starts and lets his gaze wander over the flowers in your lap, however, you managed to collect this many of them in such a short time awes him, "the meeting can wait."

You catch onto the meaning instantly, your eyes lightening up even more. The golden rays of the setting sun reflect in them and he reaches forward to cup your face in the palm of his hand and gently leans towards you, capturing your lips in a long kiss that has you gasping.

"Now," Thranduil swipes his thumb over your lower lip, as you separate, tugging playfully at it and giving into another kiss before he continues, "Have your way with my hair, my love. I know you did not collect those flowers for any other reason."

You gasp ingeniously. "You are by far the wisest Elf I've ever met," you say and scoot –maker, he makes a note to get another dress just like this made because surely this will be ruined by the time you leave the gardens– behind his back.

While you gather his hair in your hands, this time without him trying to stop you but relaxing into the soft tugging, you mumble: "So wise, they should make you King."

He chuckles at that. "Ah, but I would need a Queen by my side. Do you know where one could find on–ahhh," his teasing words get swallowed by a sigh as your fingers collect some fine hairs on the side of his head and surely completely on accident run over the shell of his ear to the delicate tip.

"Ooops," you sing and just as his body calms, you repeat the action, even have the gall to scratch the skin with your nails and he melts into a puddle.

His ears burn, not just the one your breath hits but the other one as well and he can feel the blood shoot into his face as well, crumbling the stoic and straight-laced composure of the King who is already on his knees.

"You witch," he presses out between his clenched teeth and hears you giggle. "I should have never told you about that," he murmurs more to himself, trying to regulate his heart beating inside his chest like a wild rabbit on the loose.

You laugh once, a "Pah!" while you tug on his hair, "You didn't tell me," you say and he feels something get pushed inside the braid you are working on, "I found out all by myself."

Thinking back to the night that started this completely outrageous behavior trait of you fiddling with his ears whenever he doesn't pay you enough attention or he says something that teases you a bit too much, he can't tell if you are right or him.

A few years ago he would have shut you down completely because the King would never be wrong but now he grumbles under his breath, agreeing that you must be correct.

Then again, there are many new things that you brought into his life.

He laughs more freely, and not just out of spite of viciously.

He cares more, for you, for his son, for nature and sometimes even for the dwarfs he trades with.

He is formed by you, shaped by your untamable ways of never letting a rainy day ruin your mood.

He is nothing but wax in your hands.

Here, sitting in the gardens and letting you weave flowers in his precious hair, he is no King, he is just a soul yearning for your touch, a flower reaching to bloom in your golden light.

Thranduil's eyes flutter shut as you braid and weave and run your hands over his scalp and through his hair.

He may have fallen asleep, lulled into a trance by the warm sun caressing his face and your voice humming a melody as sweet as any words that you speak, because when you let go of the delicate braids and let them fall into the rest of his hair, he opens his eyes to a pink and purple sunset.

The birds sing their last song and the trees rustle, shaking their branches and leaves as if they would ready themselves for the animals coming to rest in them.

There is a pleasantly chilled breeze that comes with nightfall, one that brings the smell of flowers and grass.

"There," you press a gentle kiss to the skin right behind his left ear, "all done."

For a moment Thranduil is disappointed that you are finished but then he turns to find your smile and all is right.

"Thank you, meldanya," he says, already closing in to express his gratitude with a soft kiss.

You nudge your nose against his, eyes shut in contentment. "Thank you, for letting me. Le ni meleth," you say quietly.

"Always," Thranduil's gaze wanders over you, bathed in rosé and golden hues, the cheeks flushed from the air, your hair wild and untamed, and flowers all over your lap. He grabs a few of them, inspecting the stems and probing them with his sharp nails.

"Let me repay the favor," he effortlessly lifts you, smiling wide at the laugh bursting out of you as he sets you between his legs and onto his robes.

"I want my Queen to wear a fitting crown."

[initialchains]

would you? | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke slowly starts to lose himself but that won’t stop you from reminding him of what truly matters.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: some manipulating and gaslighting if you squint and probably spoilers for the first book but they’re not explicitly mentioned.

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! here’s luke as a gift <33 i’ve never written for luke before but he’s my favorite pjo character bc hes such an interesting and complex character aghh. sorry if this isnt as fluffy as you would all want, i promise i’m working on some real luke fluff.

The rays of the rising sun made the lake look far more beautiful than it always does. Sure, you were used to the warm tones that always engulfed Camp Half-Blood and it’s not like the weather ever really changed, at least not unless the gods willed it to, but the colors of the sun reflecting on the lake, the low hum of the wood nymphs singing, and the distant sounds of laughter coming from campers playing volleyball were strangely comforting. 

Well, as comforting as it can be when you’re trying to find some quiet in the neverending fight that was the demigod life. It gets tiring, it always does. The fighting, the studying, the adoration of gods who didn’t even bother to give their children a sign of them caring. It was all so exhausting. 

But there was peace in this small moment. You were sat in front of the lake, your legs crossed as you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the tranquility of it all. The calm moment didn’t dare to stop your hand from finding a home in the clay beads of your camp necklace and twirling them around, a seemingly normal act to anyone who saw you, that actually was a sign of you being aware of your surroundings, a small sign of the fear you carried around, a fear that had you always prepared to draw your sword in any given moment. Not ever fully in peace. Not unless Luke was there. 

“So you decided to start your morning without me? Ouch,” You turned your head at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, “A knock on my cabin’s door would’ve been enough, you know?”.

“Yeah? And risk waking the million campers that sleep in there? No, thank you. I would like to stay alive for a few more years, please.” You replied with a small smile, looking up to meet Luke’s eyes, his scar being more prominent in the morning, a red color adorning the edges of it.  

He snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you. He was silent for a moment until he muttered softly, “This is a nice view.”

“Oh, definitely. The lake always looks beautiful when the sun hits it the right way. I need to give the Apollo cabin their congratulations and some flowers for having a talented father.” You answered, your hand moving away from your necklace to hold Luke’s.

“Of course, you make my pick-up line about the gods. Can you give me a win over here? I’m trying my best.” He said with a smirk before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. It was a strange sort of thing he always did, even before you two started dating, he’d always find an excuse to hold your hand and give it a quick kiss. 

“I wasn’t going to let you get away with using a corny pick-up line on me, Castellan. At least be original with it.” A giggle escaped your lips, “Also, everything is about the gods, I thought you’d be used to it by this point.”

His face fell for a fleeting second, but he was quick to mask it with a small smile. “Right, everything always is about the gods.” Luke’s eyes moved away from your face, nervously glancing at the lake after his statement. 

You frowned when you heard the tone he used, he sounded almost.. bitter? You couldn’t even explain it. Luke had been acting weird ever since the camp came back from their annual visit to Mount Olympus on the winter solstice. At first, you thought it had something to do with Hermes being a total dick and ignoring him the entire night, not even bothering to give his son a pat on the back or a nod. But you’ve known Luke long enough to know he was past caring about what his father did, he was indifferent to what Hermes did–to what any of the gods did. 

The two of you were silent, sitting side by side in front of the lake in deep thought. He was thinking about gods know what, and you were busy trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. You decided to break the silence first, “You okay?”.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.” 

He was quick to answer. It was almost as if he had rehearsed it and had it scripted beforehand. It was almost as if someone else had told him what to answer. As if he was under someone else's guidance. Under someone else's control. 

“Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re.. I don't know, keeping something from me?” 

“I’m not keeping anything from you. I’m not keeping a single thing.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.”

Luke closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and took some deep breaths, his chest moving up and down in a nonexistent rhythm, it was urgent and angry. He took a few more breaths, trying to calm himself before finally meeting your eyes again. 

“I’ve told you countless times to never apologize to me if you haven’t done anything wrong,” He reminded you of the conversation you’ve had millions of times, “Don’t ever apologize to me if you haven’t physically hurt me or something, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine.” 

He continued, “I’d trust you with my life given the chance. I’m not keeping anything from you, angel. You have to trust me.” 

“I do.” 

You didn’t see your boyfriend at all the following days. He always brushed you off by being busy with training or helping Annabeth plan for this week’s capture the flag. You weren’t the only one to notice his slight change of temper and personality, some campers from the Hermes cabin noticed it too. 

He kept pushing harder on his siblings, always insisting on them doing better. He was more violent than usual during capture the flag, not thinking about it twice before proving why he is the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years.

There was also this one time he volunteered to spar with a new camper.. it didn’t go well. He kept doing new maneuvers and techniques most campers didn’t even recognize, refusing to go easy on the poor thirteen year old girl. When you asked him about it, confused at the way he went too hard on the newbie, he answered with a dry “Where’s the glory in that? She needs to be prepared for what’s about to come.” It sounded as if he knew some kind of danger was approaching. As if it was a matter of life and death for the camper to learn how to fight against him.

You decided it was enough when you saw him skipping his daily chat with Annabeth, deciding he would rather sit by himself on the steps of the Big House for a little while. 

The walk from your cabin to the Big House was filled with self-doubt and twirling the beads of your necklace, you were nervous to face your boyfriend, which was stupid because he was the last person you’d ever expect to feel nervous with. When you arrived to the steps of the Big House and saw him sitting there, your mind went completely blank. 

You sat next to him and asked the first thing that came to your mind, “Would you rather fight 3000 ant-sized chimeras or a chimera-sized ant?”. 

An amused laugh bubbled up from Luke’s chest before he turned his head to face you, a smile taking over his handsome face. “I’ll take the 3000 chimeras, no doubt.” 

You smiled back at him, ready to ask him the question you spent the last thirty minutes planning, but before you could open your mouth he said, “Would you rather not be able to consume ambrosia and nectar for the rest of your life or.. see Mr. D without a shirt?”

You threw your head back with laughter, your face going red thanks to the lack of air in your lungs due to the laughs coming out of you, “I’d rather bleed to death without ambrosia than see Mr. D with a shirt.”

“Ditto.”

You decided to indulge in this back-and-forth game, after all, you hadn’t been able to have a real conversation with your boyfriend in days... you’ll take what you can get, “Would you rather not be able to leave camp ever again or turn against the gods?” 

“It would be boring to spend the rest of my life capturing a flag and growing strawberries… so I guess my answer is pretty obvious.” He answered while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’d choose to turn against the gods?”

“Yup.”

“Huh, I guess capture the flag would be pretty hard when you’re pushing 90.”

Luke was silent, running his eyes through your face before asking, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “Turn against the gods.”

You were silent for a few seconds, biting your lip and staring into Luke’s eyes, wondering if there was a right answer to this metaphorical question. You decided to give him an answer he’d like but also an answer you meant, “I’d go wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it is a farm in the middle of nowhere or to the pits of Tartarus. If you’re there... count me in.” 

Luke cleared his throat and a serious look took over his face, “Sure, but if the time to make a choice came… would you go against them?”.

His persistence to try and get you to answer his question was making you nervous. The more he asked you about it, the more it looked like he was genuinely considering it. 

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you nervously played with one of the beads on your camp necklace. He took notice of it. Of course he did, he knew more about you than anyone, probably even more than you know yourself. 

Luke stayed silent at that, a somber look taking over his features, you could tell there was a turmoil happening inside his head. It was almost as if he wanted to let you in on a secret, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I... um. Well, I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon—at least not in our lifetime. But like I said, I’d go wherever you go, to Tartarus and back.” 

That brought a smile to Luke’s face, he looked into your eyes, probably looking for signs of you lying but finding none, and took your hand away from your necklace, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “To Tartarus and back, baby.” 

He brought your hands down before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. There was a sense of necessity to feel your lips against his, he kissed you like the feeling of your lips was his only shot at salvation. He raised his hand to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss, craving the heat he only got whenever he kissed you.

You stopped him before he could take the kiss any further, “Luke, we’re in the middle of camp. There are children around us, if you want to make out at least take me to our spot behind the stables. Holy shit.”

Luke took a second to steady his breathing, “Sorry, angel. I’ll make sure to keep your suggestion in mind for later, though.”

“Shut the hell up, Castellan.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day being busy working on your own stuff. Luke was still sparring with some campers who were brave enough to go against him, and you were hanging out with the Dionysus cabin while they helped grow more strawberries. 

 You found Chris sitting in the amphitheater and asked him if he had seen your boyfriend, he replied with an annoyed, “He’s probably in bed or something, I don’t know.” You decided to not ask Chris if he was okay and walked straight to the Hermes cabin.

A knock on the wooden door was enough to wake your boyfriend up, you were aware of it when you heard a muffled, “Come in”. You found Luke sitting on his bed, his sword in hand while he sharpened it.

So he wasn’t asleep at all, you thought.

“Careful with the sharp part of the blade.” He looked up from his sword when he heard your melodic voice, your words snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“Oh, hi.” Luke put the sword down next to his bunk and moved to lie down, leaving a space next to him for you to join him. He hummed when you laid down next to him, giving a kiss to his shoulder blade and wrapping your arms around his torso. 

He turned to face you, pressing his lips to your forehead with a soft sigh. His eyes closed at the sensation while his hands traveled to your back, looking for ways to hold you closer. His features relaxing when he finally touched your skin. 

You couldn’t keep this weird tension going on between you two, so you decided to bite first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, he replied in an almost scripted and mechanical way, “Talk about what?”

“The winter solstice visit, you’ve been acting.. different ever since we came back to camp.” 

Luke stiffened next to you, it made your heart drop. You’ve been dating him for a year now, and he had never been this cold—this uncomfortable around you. 

“I just... I think things are about to change.” He replied in a low murmur, his eyes closing again when you brought your hand up to caress his face, softly tracing his scar with your thumb in a delicate and loving way. Luke let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he felt your fingers on his skin.

A smirk made its way to your face, “Change? yeah, in your dreams, Castellan. Campers will keep arriving and only 5 percent of them will get claimed, and the others will get thrown into your cabin.. like things always are and always will be. That’s not changing anytime soon.” 

Luke’s hand traced up and down your back in a soothing manner, “Yeah, maybe they won’t. Forget I even said that.” 

“Just because they won’t change, it doesn’t mean we have to accept it, you know?”Luke's eyes snapped up from your hands to meet your gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re all on the same team here. Sure, the gods will never claim most of the campers and we will all probably die before we’re old enough to have children of our own... but is that really all that matters? We have each other. We don’t need them as long as we have the people we love with us.”

Luke tilted his head to the right to press a kiss to the palm of your hand that was caressing his cheek, “I don’t need the gods as long as I have you.” 

“Good to know we’re on the same page, Castellan.”

The two of you went out for a small walk by the lake and sat together in the dining pavilion at night. Your small conversation probably made Luke feel better because he was quick to go back to being himself, he kept greeting every camper he saw and holding your hand, not forgetting to kiss the back of it whenever he had the chance. 

Maybe it was you reassuring him about the love you had for him or maybe it was him being aware of you being willing to drop the gods at any time just to be with him, but he was completely normal during the following days, weeks, and months.

You were sure of it when you saw him walking around with the new arrival five months later, Luke seemed so excited to be showing him around. You greeted the new camper with a small smile when he introduced himself with a “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson.”

[sserpente]

Magic Hands

Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?

A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D

Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma

Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.

The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.

“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”

You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.

You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.

He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.

You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.

“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.

Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.

“There we go. Now try again.”

You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.

“Hey, don’t tut me!”

“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”

Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.

“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”

Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.

“Okay. I got it. I think.”

The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.

“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”

Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.

“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”

The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”

“Hmm, so should I.”

You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.

You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.

Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.

“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.

“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.

By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.

“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.

“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Help? How?”

“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.

“Magic hands?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.

“You want to… well… I…”

“If you want to?”

“Well… I suppose…”

You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?

“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”

His lips parted.

“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”

“Alright… fine.”

You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.

“Then come find me in my tent later.”

You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.

You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.

His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.

“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”

His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.

“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”

The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”

“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.

“Of course.”

“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”

Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.

Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.

Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.

Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.

He was hard.

“Do you… do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.

You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.

Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.

“How about… I have an idea.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”

His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.

“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.

“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”

“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.

Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”

One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…

It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.

He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.

You paused when he uttered your name with a start.

“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”

So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…

“I… I… I will…”

Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.

“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.

He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.

“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”

[iheartambss]

Rescue

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!ApolloCabin!Reader

summary; an Ares cabin member breaks the rules and ties reader up and Clarisse saves them

warnings; swearing, violence, blood, fluff

an; I hope this was what you expected. We 🫶 protective Clarisse. Gender neutral pronouns are used btw! I stole the “angel” nickname from symp4nat cause i like it and i think it’s so cute and she probably would call reader that. Also if you’d like to listen to the song while reading there’s a link below :)

Rescue by Lauren Daigle

Ever since the day you arrived to camp, Clarisse bullied you and you two never got along. Today is yet another game of capture the flag and you’re on the blue team and Clarisse is on the red team which is obviously the opposing team. You watched as Clarisse was talking to the rest of her team to strategize and tell them the plan and just hoped you’d get out of this alive, as you always did. “Let the games begin!” Chiron yelled and you immediately followed Annabeth and Percy into the woods.

After a while of walking, you’re the first to speak up. “You guys think we'll run into Clarisse?" You ask as you continue following behind Annabeth. "I hope not," Percy says immediately, looking around nervously. Annabeth nods saying, "Knowing her we might.” "Where are we even going Annabeth?" You ask, looking around. "Wherever fate takes us," Annabeth says simply. Percy stops walking for a moment, shocked by Annabeth's answer. He continues to follow you and Annabeth mumbling, "This girl's going to get us killed."

Annabeth rolled her eyes at Percy's comment. "I'm going to get us killed? At least I can fight," she muttered under her breath, not looking back at him. You continued to walk forward, your senses on high alert for any signs of danger. Suddenly 3 Ares kids surrounded the three of you. You got in a defensive position, sword in hand as you glared at the Ares kids, "Where's your princess?" You said, referring to Clarisse. Percy followed your lead, getting into a defensive position as well, looking at you confused, "Wait who?"

"Y/N's talking about Clarisse," Annabeth says as she points her sword at one of the Ares kids. Percy mumbles a soft, “Oh.” Leo smirks as he pointed his sword at you, "Clarisse isn't here so don't worry your pretty little head," He said in a slight mocking tone before looking at Ruby and Cole, his half siblings, "You two take care of Newbie and Nerdbrain." Ruby and Cole nod before Ruby lunges at Percy with her sword while Cole does the same to Annabeth. You pout at Leo, "Bummer, I was hoping l'd get to finally beat her ass. I guess I'll just beat yours instead," You said as you waited for Leo's move.

Leo chuckled as he watched Ruby and Cole engage with Percy and Annabeth, "Well aren't you feisty?" He said before lunging at you with his sword. You dodge the attack before swinging your sword at the Ares boy. Leo quickly dodged the swing of your sword before lunging at you again. He knew you were good, but he was confident in his fighting skills as well. "You fight well, but not well enough,” He grins as he continued to attack you. You narrowly missed another one of Leo's attacks, your heart racing from the adrenaline. You countered his next strike, your swords clashing loudly.

"You're not so bad yourself," you said, trying to keep up with his relentless assault, "I'm better though." Leo smirked, his eyes never leaving yours before he lunged again, aiming for your side this time. You quickly stepped back, avoiding the blow but losing your balance in the process. You yelp as you fell back, accidentally dropping your sword, "Fuck." Leo took advantage of your momentary loss of balance and kicked your sword away from your reach. He grinned wickedly, his sword pointed at your throat. "Now, who's the better fighter?" He challenged with a sneer. You roll your eyes, "Oh fuck off Leo."

"Y/N!" Percy yelled from the distance, sounding worried. Leo turned toward Percy's voice, "Ruby, Cole, keep those two away!" He ordered before turning back to you. He then grabbed some rope and started tying your hands together. "What the- Leo you know this against the rules," You hiss as you struggled against the boy's hold. Leo ignored your protests and quickly finished tying your hands together, pulling it a little too tight for comfort. He smirked at your struggles. You glared at the boy, struggling to get your hands out, "If you need to tie me up to handle me then you obviously suck ass as a warrior,” You spat.

Leo chuckled darkly, "Oh, I don't suck sweetheart, I just like playing dirty." He grabbed your bound wrists and pulled you closer, his sword still at your throat. Suddenly someone roughly pulled him away from you, pushing his shoulder, "Get the fuck away from them," Clarisse hissed. You looked at Clarisse in shock, you didn't expect the Ares girl to help you at all. "You alright angel?" Clarisse asked, glancing over you to make sure you were uninjured, frowning when she saw a gash on your arm. "U-Uh... yeah, I'm ok." You said softly, clearly confused by Clarisse's sudden protectiveness over you.

"Good," Clarisse replied then she turned back to Leo, glaring at him, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You think you can just tie someone up like that?" She stepped closer to you, her body language subtly protective as well. Leo looked at her confused, "Why the hell are you protecting this Apollo kid Clarisse?" Clarisse scoffs like it’s obvious, "Because you fucking tied them up and it’s against the rules," She said harshly, her eyes hard as she glared at Leo. "Let's get you untied," Clarisse said, turning her attention back to you. She knelt down, carefully cutting the ropes with her spear, making sure not to hurt you further.

As she worked, she glanced at Leo, her expression cold and unyielding. Once your hands were untied, you rubbed your wrists as an attempt to sooth them. You looked up at Clarisse to see her holding out her hand to help you up and give her a confused look before taking the girl’s hand. “Thanks," You mumble. “No problem," Clarisse replied, still holding onto your hand until you were standing. She looked at Leo once more, sighing softly before letting go of your hand then sound of the conch shell rang out signaling the end of the game.

Percy ran over to you, "You ok?" You look at Clarisse with a raised eyebrow before looking at Percy and Annabeth, "Yeah I'm good." Annabeth walked over to you, "That's a pretty nasty cut on your arm." You look at your arm, "Oh shit... I didn't even realize." Clarisse grabbed your arm and took a quick look at it, a concerned expression on her face. "Let me take a look at it, it might need some medical attention," She said, glancing at the others as if to say that it wasn't too serious. Percy and Annabeth looked at each other, clearly confused as to why Clarisse was being nice to you.

You looked at Clarisse, a bit skeptical but you nod nonetheless, “Uh... sure." Clarisse stepped closer to examine the cut more closely. "It's not deep, but it's bleeding a lot. We should clean it properly and maybe wrap it up to prevent infection," She explained, her voice surprisingly gentle. Percy and Annabeth looked between you and Clarisse, trying to figure out what was happening. You nodded, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you heard how soft her voice was. "Alright, let's head back to camp," Clarisse suggested, gesturing for you to follow her.

She turned to Percy and Annabeth, "I can clean it up there and maybe get something to stop the bleeding," she added, her voice still calm and collected. Percy and Annabeth looked at each other confused once again then looked at you. You shrugged then followed Clarisse as she started walking, Percy and Annabeth right behind you. When the four of you got to camp, Percy and Annabeth parted ways with you and Clarisse saying they had to meet with Grover. Clarisse grabbed your wrist gently, making you blush and led you to the infirmary. "Sit," Clarisse said, guiding you to a stool near some medical supplies.

She retrieved a clean cloth and some disinfectant, carefully cleaning the wound on your arm. Despite the pain, you couldn't help but notice how gentle her touch was. You silently observed Clarisse, taking in her appearance. You noted how the girl's eyebrows furrowed when she was concentrated and how the girl's hair framed her face perfectly. As Clarisse finished cleaning the wound, she applied a thin layer of antiseptic ointment, ensuring it covered the injured area completely, making you wince and Clarisse mumble an apology.

Her gaze met yours, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. "It's not that deep but it'll probably scar," she said, her voice lowering slightly. You nod as you blush softly before clearing your throat and looking away from the Ares girl, "That's great...I guess." Clarisse nodded, her fingers lightly grazing your arm as she applied a clean bandage over the wound, making you inhale sharply. "There. It should be alright for now," Clarisse said softly, her eyes still on your face. You nod once again, blushing more as you felt the girl's eyes still on you.

You hoped Clarisse couldn't notice your blush, "Thanks. You didn't have to do this." "I know, but I wanted to," Clarisse replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced at the door, as if making sure you both were alone, before leaning in closer, not noticing the way you sucked in a breath, "Look, I know we don't exactly... get along, but I just wanted to help.” You could feel how fast your heart was hammering in your chest due to how close she was, "Y-Yeah... thanks," You said, cursing yourself as you stuttered.

"You're welcome," Clarisse responded, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned back slightly. Despite your rough past, Clarisse felt herself blushing as well, hoping you wouldn't notice. You look up at the Ares girl, taking in her appearance once more and you can’t help think about how beautiful she is. Your eyes flickered between the girl's eyes and her lips. As Clarisse noticed you staring at her, she couldn't help but blush even more, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering madly. Despite the constant arguments between the two of you, she felt pulled towards you in an undeniable way.

Without thinking, Clarisse leaned in closer, her lips brushing against yours, making you let out a muffled noise of shock. It felt like electricity at first-a spark igniting between the two of you. You returned the kiss, bringing a hand up to cup the Ares girl's cheek softly. Feeling your soft touch against her cheek, Clarisse's heart raced even faster. She deepened the kiss, her hands finding their way on your waist, pulling you closer. Suddenly breaking the kiss, Clarisse looked into your eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. "I- sorry," she said softly with a shaky voice.

You looked at Clarisse, silently for a moment before pulling her in for another kiss. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise but soon closed as she felt your lips pressing against hers once more. This time, she returned the kiss, her hands gripping your waist tighter. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead against Clarisse's with a smile. Blinking back the surprise, Clarisse felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into your eyes. She couldn't help but return the smile, feeling a warmth spread through her chest, "I like you." You laughed softly, "Yeah I figured since you kissed me."

"Right..." Clarisse replied, her cheeks flushing slightly, “Will you be my girlfriend?” You smile saying, "Yes” before pulling the Ares girl into another kiss. As your lips met hers once more, she brought her hands up and gently cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Percy walks in, "Hey Y/N, how's it goi-" You both quickly pull away and he looks between you and Clarisse with wide eyes, "I'm not even going to ask...”

[atlabeth]

all of me | luke castellan

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: sooooooo i know that i said i would work on something else but this hit me and suddenly i could not rest until i wrote something for it so you're getting headcanons since i can't formulate proper thoughts. some of this is dialogue but most of this is pure stream of consciousness. im already kind of obsessed w them ?

wc: 3.7k lollll this got away from me but it was so much fun.

warning(s): parental death, fighting, normal royal stuff. fluff, angst, all that good shit

princess!reader and knight!luke

yeah

and they're childhood friends bc they grew up in the castle together

YEAH

luke is the son of a kingsguard and he wants to be just like his mom 

his father is out of the picture (booo) and his mom never really talks about him but she’s raised luke the best she can

shoutout to may castellan, she was the first female kingsguard! and definitely the first to personally guard the king 

you are the heir to the throne and the only thing you're sure of is that you want luke to be in your life

you basically spent all your time together because he was kinda the only one your parents would approve you hanging out with

most of the crownsguard don't have children and those that do have them live with their spouse outside of the palace, and your parents didn't want you spending time with the children of servants

and luke's mom is your father's closest friend because she's the king's personal knight and so everything’s basically already vetted and they don’t have to worry about you accidentally getting murdered by him 

so you and luke basically spend every moment of your free time together!! 

even when you’re not free tbh 

sometimes you beg your tutor to hold your lessons outside so that you can sneak glimpses at the knights training and luke training alongside them 

whenever he sees you, his face always instantly brightens and he will lose focus in whatever tf he’s doing because he’s only thinking about you now 

and instead of either of you doing what you’re supposed to do, you just spend the whole time making faces at each other and trying to grab the other’s attention 

after his mother tries (and fails) to get him back on track a million times and your tutor realizes that you’re never going to listen to her historical prattles they allow the two of you to talk for “FIVE MINUTES AND NO LONGER MY BOY” and your tutor is all “i ask that you do not delay our lessons any further, your highness” 

and tbf you and luke could notttttt care less. you immediately join up and you start teasing him about his form and how he was holding his sword and he just makes fun of you for having to be a princess

“Your form is horrendous, Luke! How do you expect to beat anyone holding a sword like that?” 

“At least I’ll be on the battlefield one day. You can bore our enemies to sleep with your recounts of Aureldan history.” 

“Oh, I bet I could beat you right now. I’ve got royal blood in my veins.” 

“And I’ve got knight’s blood in mine,” he says. “I’ve at least got a sword. That’s more than you have.”

You huff. “Mother says I have to learn propriety before I even think about picking up a weapon.” 

“Do you want to hold mine?” he asks immediately, his eyes lighting up as he offers it over. “It’s just wood because Mom doesn’t want me to hurt myself, but that means it’s safe for you.” 

you do. obviously. 

You’ve got soft hands, untouched by the world, and the sword feels foreign in their grasp as you realize this is in fact the first time you’ve ever held a weapon. You cut it through the air a few times and Luke is grinning wider than ever 

“I think the role of a warrior princess suits you,” he says.

“It is nice,” you muse as you turn it over in your hands, already growing used to the feeling of it. 

“And you look great with it,” he says. “Powerful.” 

“I’d give myself a splinter before I can do anything with it,” you retort as you hand it back to him. “It’s a nice thought, though.” 

His eyes light up. “You should train with us sometime. My mom is the best at teaching— she’d teach you everything you need to know!”

You glance back at your tutor, who is very clearly eavesdropping, and you sigh as you look back at Luke. “Maybe in a few months.” 

Luke’s mother calls his name and it’s obvious that your time is over. You hug each other and promise to meet up as soon as your responsibilities for the day are over, then go back to your respective duties. 

Your tutor takes you inside because she doesn’t want anymore distractions, and you wave at each other like crazy as you’re walking back into the castle.

so yeah. you’re best friends and you have been since you first met as children, and though it is a battle for your betters to keep you on task if you’re near each other, you just light up when you see each other and it actually helps 

You’re learning dining etiquette and if you get told that you’re using the wrong spoon again, you’re going to lose your mind. 

luke is hurrying through the halls to catch up with his mother and you both catch a glimpse of each other. 

your posture straightens, he stops in his tracks, and you both smile at each other. then luke’s mother calls his name again and he’s on his way again. 

spoons aren’t that bad, you think 

you’re mulling over history books in the library that make you want to fall asleep.

luke just happens to be walking past on the way to his chores, and when he spots you, he yells out your name and waves at you. you wave back, and you both stifle laughs as your tutor shushes you 

suddenly, you’re not feeling so down.

Luke is training on his own out in the yard before dinner and he’s about ready to break his sword over his knee because he can not get this damned move right. 

he hears your voice across the way and sees you, all dressed up and with your parents about to get into a carriage. you’re on your way to a ball, he remembers you telling him earlier, and he finds himself smiling. 

You had been complaining about it, and Luke had told you to just think of the two of you hanging out whenever you were bored. You said you were already planning on it.

His smile widens. He’d be thinking of you too, wondering what it would be like for him to attend with you. Dressed in the same gaudy outfits as the rest of the court, having to go through the same dull niceties that you’d been raised on, listening to stories from other royals he couldn’t care less about. 

Standing beside you as an equal. 

Luke’s young, but he already doesn’t care for nobles and their court. But he thinks he would wear any amount of uncomfortable suits and listen to any number of dull proposals for you. 

for the rest of the night, he trains better than he thinks he ever has. 

and of course, you break the rules together. GOD HELP YOUR CHARGES YOU ALWAYS BREAK THE RULES TOGETHER 

your tutor cannot count how many times you’ve slipped out of lessons and she’s found you in the halls talking with luke, him smiling brighter than she’s ever seen as he listens to you go on and on and on 

your mother cannot count all the times you’ve talked about what you and luke did that day instead of describing to her any of the history or arithmetic you were supposed to be learning 

May always keeps watch over her son, but she’s been known to turn a blind eye when Luke thinks he’s being sneaky to go off and see you. 

and of course, sometimes you actually hang out when you’re allowed to hang out lol 

you’ve run around every bit of the palace grounds together, you ride horses together (with parental supervision of course), and once you’re a bit older, you’re actually allowed to practice with luke and the rest of the knights! 

typically, it’s a shorter session with May teaching the two of you, and typically, it ends with both of you ready to die because you’re just kids and even though Luke is a prodigy, you are sooooo bad at swordfighting. it’s honestly not even funny how bad you are at it the first couple of lessons 

But May just pats you on the shoulder and promises to work with you until you’re as good as her. 

(luke pouts and says he wants to be better than you. you forget that you’re holding a sword and just start complaining at each other) 

(“you CAN’T be better than me luke I’m the princess”) (“YES I CAN MY MOM’S THE GREATEST KNIGHT EVER”) (“SHE PROTECTS MY DAD WHICH MEANS I CAN BE THE BEST EVER”) (“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE”) (“YES IT DOES”) (“NO IT DOESN’T”) (“I’M YOUR PRINCESS YES IT DOES”) 

(the lesson ends when May has to pry you two apart) 

but we haven’t gotten to the knight part. 

because it’s a bit sad. 

what happens to may in pjo canon is awful but 

May Castellan dies when you and Luke are sixteen. A month after your birthday, in fact. Four months after Luke’s. 

(he’s always held those three months over you, especially as you get older.) 

(it doesn’t seem to matter as much now.)  

rumor has it throughout the kingdom that she slowly went insane and then fully lost it, ultimately dying in an attack against the king during a ball that turned out to be a set-up. 

the only one who knows what really happened that night is your father as he was the only other person there at her death that still lives, but he refuses to talk about it, only saying that “Head of the Kingsguard May Castellan died a hero and shall be remembered as such”. 

Luke… does not take it well 

besides the king, he obviously spent the most time with his mother and it was obvious to anyone that she loved him with all her heart and wanted him to follow whatever dreams he may have had 

she’s given a knight’s funeral and you are beside Luke the entire time, holding his hand or him leaning against you as you listen to eulogies or even just sitting next to each other because your presence is enough for him. it doesn’t matter what—you’re always connected in some way, and no one says a single thing. 

he needs you, and you need him. it’s as simple as that. and no one dares to correct the princess when she’s icier than they’ve ever seen her.

You put on that front to protect Luke—you don’t want anyone bothering him, and you don’t want him to have to worry about you at a time like this. 

Because you know he would. He always does. 

When Luke gives his speech, barely able to hold back tears, he looks at you the entire time. he doesn’t tell you, but you’re the only reason he’s able to get through the day. 

Luke becomes a ward of the royal family. 

There’s no chance you’re letting him leave, and Luke doesn’t want to go either. The memories of his mother all around are painful, but he takes some small comfort that she’ll live on in Aurelda forever. 

Your parents have no objection to it—he grew up in the palace anyways, and he can practically provide for himself. You wouldn’t have let them say no. 

You’re thankful beyond words that Luke is still here. Because everything feels like a mess, and things are a little more manageable with him by your side. 

Someone tried to kill your father. They killed Luke’s mother instead. Both of you are broken in different ways.

Obviously, this sparks the beginnings of war both in Aurelda and in Luke’s entire being. 

but that’s a topic for another day. 

May’s death changes your relationship. 

She was his mother, obviously, but you were close to her as well. you could never forget every time she ruffled your hair and complimented your sword fighting, or every time she would acknowledge you in the midst of a crowd with a smile and a nod, or every time she would act like a mother and not a knight. 

she had the best hugs in the entire kingdom. 

But her death changes your relationship because Luke changes. 

He’s angrier. His edges have all sharpened, honed by his own spirit. He softens when he’s around you, but to the outside eye he’s impenetrable. He thinks you’re the only one that understands him. 

Others pity him, fear him, are jealous of him. 

You treat him the way you always have. Like your best friend. 

That’s all he needs. 

And so Luke throws himself into his training, vowing to become the youngest kingsguard in Aureldan history to honor his mother’s memory. He wasn’t able to save his mother, and he needs to become strong enough to protect the ones he loves from anything. 

(You don’t know it, but he thinks of you every time he closes his eyes and sees the night his mother died. He’s in the place of his mother and you’re in your father’s position, and Luke knows that he would sacrifice himself for you every single time.) 

So you don’t have as much time for each other anymore. Luke is on his kingsguard mission, and you’re starting to come into your own as the Crown Princess of Aurelda. 

You can’t sneak out of lessons anymore to go talk with Luke, because you’re starting to learn about the nuances of politics. 

Luke can’t let you interrupt his training, because he’s on a warpath and he won’t be stopped before he reaches his goal. 

You can’t neglect your responsibilities because they’re more than just etiquette or history lessons. War is going to come to Aurelda sooner or later, and you’ve got to be ready when it does.

You’re only sixteen, but neither of you are children anymore.  

But you’re still best friends. Nothing can change that—it’s just changed the way you show it. 

You take your morning walks with your mother past the training grounds, and Luke always smiles at you and salutes no matter what. You bow your head in a very refined, princess-y nod, and you continue on. 

Luke makes sure he’s always the one that gets to deliver news to you, even going so far as to make deals with other servants and messengers just to make sure he gets to see you at least once a day. 

Most of the time, you end up seeing each other at night. Just happening to end up in the kitchens at the same time for a midnight snack that results in hours of talking with each other. Bringing Luke to your balcony to look at the stars together. 

Even some midnight training has occurred together, though you always end up a sweaty mess and having to make a bath for yourself because you can’t alert your servants. Luke says he likes you best when you have that vicious glint in your eye while you’re training with him. 

Luke still has horrific dreams, and though he weathered them on his own for a while, one night he finds himself outside your door. When you open it, seeing his haunted eyes and disheveled appearance, you let him in immediately.

It’s not the first time you’ve slept in the same bed after nightmares, and you know it won’t be the last. 

(You spent the whole week together after his mother’s death. Not even your parents could complain when they saw the change in both of you.)  

And Luke does it. He completes his training, having become one of the fiercest and youngest warriors Aurelda has ever seen. Traditionally, knights are older, but an exception was made for Luke—he’s got the Castellan name and a childhood spent with the greatest knights in the kingdom to back him up.

You’re the first person he tells when he finds out, and your scream of pure joy must have echoed throughout the entire castle. You hug him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, and for just a moment, in your embrace, he feels like you’re both kids again. 

Weeks from his eighteenth birthday, your father knights Luke Castellan in an official ceremony. 

Not just as a member of the kingsguard, though—he is sworn in as a knight, and as your personal bodyguard. 

Your father didn’t tell you beforehand, and you thank a childhood of courtly influence to keep the shock off your face. One hand tightens ever so slightly into a fist, and you let it out just as quickly. 

You can’t see Luke’s expression, kneeling and head turned downward. You would pay all the gold in the kingdom to know what he was thinking. 

“Sir Luke Castellan.” Your father’s voice booms through the hall, and a shiver even goes down your spine. “Do you swear to serve Aurelda as her loyal knight, through war and peace, through riches and debt?”

“I do,” Luke says. 

“Do you swear to protect the Crown Princess of Aurelda—” your father says your entire title, and for the fifth time you wonder how many middle names a princess needs, “—my daughter—with everything you have in you, until your dying breath?” 

Your breathing stills for the slightest moment. 

Luke doesn’t flinch. “I do.” 

The thought of Luke dying for you is unimaginable. It’s something you’d never ask of him—you don’t think you could live in a world without him anyways. You know it’s what knights are expected to do—for king and country, my life for yours—but that’s for any member of the royal family—any member of the court. 

Luke is assigned solely to your protection. 

And he doesn’t even falter when he bonds his life to yours. 

As soon as the ceremony is over and Aurelda has gained three new knights, you’re on your way to Luke. You don’t care if anyone else wants to talk with the princess, you don’t care if your parents need to tell you something—royal propriety be damned, you need to talk to Luke.

He doesn’t look surprised when you march up to him, but there’s already a different air about him. 

Maybe it’s because in these past couple of years he’s absolutely shot up in height, maybe it’s because his insane training regimen has toned every part of him, maybe it’s because he’s done what no one else has done before, or maybe it’s just because he actually accomplished his goal. 

But when he smiles at you, that crooked slant to his lips that always meant mischief when you were younger, it’s enough to make that train of thought immediately shut down. 

“Princess,” he greets. “I think we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, these days.” 

“Yeah,” you say, the warpath you’d intended to be on fading away almost immediately with his words (and that goddamned smile that will certainly be the death of you someday.) “Maybe this is our way to make up on all that lost time.” 

“...I’d like that,” Luke says. 

“Can I hug you?” you ask wryly. “Or is that unbecoming of a brand new knight?” 

“I don’t think anyone will tell the princess she is doing something wrong,” Luke says. 

So you do. You hug him, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you hate that you had any doubt that he would. You’ve always felt safe in his embrace even since you were children, and now that he’s four times as strong and much taller, you feel it more than ever. 

He truly does look the part of a perfect knight. You remember the days of wooden sword fights and afternoons by the lake, wondering what your future awaited, but sure you would be together no matter what. 

You feel like you’ve aged a century since then.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you say as you pull away. “You’re incredible. I mean— you always have been, but this… It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. So I’m proud of you.” 

Luke brushes his curls out of his face with a gauntleted hand, his smile turning a bit more genuine. “It means the world, princess. You are… one of the main reasons that I even made it up here. So I have you to thank.” 

You feel your cheeks heat. “I haven’t done anything.” 

“You’ve been you,” he refutes. “You’ve stood by my side through everything, and you’ve always been there when I need you no matter what. You’ve done everything.” 

You’re thankful for the sheer sleeves of your gown, because now your entire body feels warm. And maybe that’s why you practically blurt the question out, but it’s been burning in your mind since the moment it happened. 

“Did you know?” 

He frowns. “Know what?” 

“That you would become my personal guard,” you said. “You’ve wanted to be a part of the kingsguard since you were a child, and now…” 

“Princess,” Luke says, “I asked your father for the honor.” 

That throws you off. “What?”

“Do you think he would entrust your wellbeing to just anyone?” he asks. “It’s part of the reason I’ve been training so hard—I wanted to prove to him that I was worthy of the position.” 

“Luke—” you start, but he shakes his head.  

“War is coming to Aurelda whether we like it or not,” he says. “All I want is for you to be safe. This way, I can ensure it.” 

“You said you would die for me,” you say. “You vowed it.” 

“That is generally how knighthood works, yes—” 

“Luke,” you interrupt forcefully. “I don’t want you to die for me.” 

“The goal is for nobody to die,” he says wryly. 

You cross your arms. “You know what I mean.” 

“Your safety is my number one concern, princess,” he says. “That’s all you need to know.” 

You stare at him. He stares back. 

You win, because Luke sighs and shakes his head. “We don’t have to worry about that at the moment. Right now, you have to get back to change before you sit in on an advisor’s meeting with the king and queen.” 

You frown. “How do you know?” 

“I’m your guard,” Luke says. “It’s my job to know.” 

“You were just sworn in!” you protest. 

“And I am always prepared,” he remarks. Luke holds his hand out in a gesture towards the door. “After you, princess.” 

You shake your head as you start walking. You hear Luke’s footsteps start soon after, much heavier than yours in full armor as opposed to your ceremonial dress. “You are ridiculous.” 

“Which is also my job,” Luke muses.

and so luke becomes a knight, but not just any knight.

your knight.

good luck handling that crush on him you've harbored since childhood now.

[queenofheartlessdreams]

Punishment (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Fandom: House of the Dragon, Daemon Targaryen x Fem! Niece! Reader

Summary: The youngest born daughter of King Viserys is punished for her outburst against her bastard nephews. In doing so, Daemon ensures that her outburst is forgotten, replaced with rumors of their coupling.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: smut, harsh language, incest, oral (m receiving), dry humping, lots of banter

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It had all happened so quickly. One moment, she was in the courtyard, watching the knights train, and the next, she was in the middle of the Targaryen family feud. It wasn't a rare occurrence at King's Landing, even more prevalent when Rhaenyra and her boys would come to visit, always by request of the opposing party. 

But this time, the fight was her own. She recalled the events as they played out, thinking of what she would tell her father. News would spread quickly throughout the castle, rumors would start before she could even process what had happened. 

She had been in the courtyard, sitting next to Aemond as she watched the two eldest sons, Aegon and Jace, sword fight in the midst of a crowd of people. It was for practice of course, yet still the violent echo of metal on metal rang through the open air. Jace had pinned his uncle, who was laughing underneath him, muttering about how strong he was. And that was when the real fighting broke out. Curses spewed at the other side, yelling rang louder than blades, as the family was driven further apart. 

So she had intervened, pulling the two boys off each other by the collars of their tunics, turning to Jace to reprehend him. 

"A wise king does not quarrel over petty insults," she had said, "If you are willing to kill a man for a single spoken word, then perhaps you shouldn't be king at all, no matter how strong."

She shouldn't have said the last part, and the smile it placed on her lips was soon replaced with a frown as Aegon gripped her arm, pulling her back from the nearly fatal blow from Jace's sword. Next thing she knew, the cold steel of Aegon's blade was in her hand, and she was thrusting it at her nephew. The metal vibrated in her palm as it made contact with Jace's blade, as he attacked with much stronger force. Just as guards began to close in on the pair, she had managed to quickly flip him, pressing her lace decorated heels into his forearm as she looked above him. 

"Careful, nephew. We wouldn't want the future king to lose his life over such a petty quarrel." 

With that, she stormed off into the castle, sure to get lectured by her father, Alicent, and every other member of the Small Council for her actions. 

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Hours later, Y/N sat by the fire in her room, listening to the crackle of the flames as it consumed the dry wood below. She knew that she had faltered, she saw it in the eyes of her family that night at dinner. Rhaenyra looked at her with hatred, Alicent with sorrow, and her father had shunned himself from her gaze altogether. 

Guilt welled inside her as she looked into the flames. There was a knock at her door, the large oak creaking open before she could answer. Silver-blonde hair stormed into the room, attached to the body of Daemon Targaryen, brows furrowed as he made his way to his niece. 

The princess rolls her eyes, turning her head back to the flame, "Māzigon naejot vēdros issa hae sȳrī, Kepus?" (Come to hate me as well, uncle?)

The Prince Consort laughs, bitterness still etched across his face. He situated himself in the armchair next to Y/N, "ōregon aōha ēngos, riña." (Hold your tongue, girl.)

He doesn't give her the chance to quip back, carrying on in a low hiss, "I agreed to teach you combat under the condition that you would be sworn to secrecy and would only use it if absolutely necessary." 

"It was necessary," the girl counters," Prince Jacaerys swung at me first, I was only defending my honor."

"Your honor will mean nothing if word of this reaches outside the castle walls!" Daemon shouts, "I should punish you for your ignorance."

Y/N snorts, pushing herself off the floor to stand before him, looking down on the seated Prince," I assure you, you will get in much more trouble from my father for whatever punishment your sick mind can think of, then I will for defending myself from that impure boy."

Daemon's hands reach for the girl's hips, sliding down the silky fabric of her dress before pulling the girl to stand between his legs, "Do you truly think so little of me?"

"The contrary," Y/N replies, putting her hands on his shoulders, "I know you're good enough a man to honor my virtue, and smart enough a man to know anything you try will be disproved by my father." 

"Of course, princess," Daemon retorts, violet eyes staring into her own, " I would never be such a monster to dishonor your maidenhead, though, I'm not sure how many Lords would like to wed you given your brazen display in the courtyard today."

Y/N pulls away, turning her back to the prince, "If you only wish to rebuke me, then you may leave, Prince Consort. I am in no mood for it."

For a moment, silence fills the room, only the gentle crackle of the fire heard in the stone walls. Daemon makes no move to excuse himself, nor does the princess, her feet firmly planted on the cold floor below. The Prince lets out a sign, "There are other ways, you know."

Y/N doesn't move, eyes darting silently to the fire, not daring to look at the man behind her, "I don't know what you speak of, Uncle."

She shivers as she feels the Prince's hand grab her own, rough and calloused from years of welding a blade, and riding on dragon back. This thumb caresses the back of her hand, as he pulls Y/N back into his grasp, "Other ways of punishment, ones that don't involve giving up your precious virtue." 

This time Y/N faces him, a twisted smirk on her face, "Did one of your whores teach you?"

"You are aware that I do more than fuck and kill, aren't you?" the Prince Consort responds, a faint smile on his lips.

"And here I thought it was your only pastime," Y/N answers, "Anytime you return to King's Landing, you're always boasting of the women you've impregnated, the bastards you've fathered, and the men you've killed."

She looks for a retort, a flicker of anger in his eyes, yet cannot find a glimpse. Daemon's face contorts, eyes looking up at the Princess with an expression of sorrow, of sympathy, like warm honey against the flickering fire. 

Y/N exhales, "Fine, what ways do you speak of?"

"Dēmās," (sit) Daemon responds, smirking at the girl's surrender. He pats his leg, watching as she obliges, smoothing the expensive silks of her gown as she does. 

"You mustn't be so tense, princess," Daemon whispers, toying with the lace on the back of her gown. His nimble fingers trail down the criss-crossed strings of the gown, falling to the base of her back, where the strings were tied in a dainty bow. The Prince tugs at the bow, releasing the knot, and allowing him to pull apart the confines of her dress, revealing the soft, pale skin of her back, and shoulders. 

Y/N sucks in a surprised gasp as she feels his lips press against her skin, soft kisses trailing across her shoulder blades. She feels Daemon's hands wrap around her waist, one placed against her lower stomach, the other against her thigh, securing her against the warmth of his body. 

Slowly, the kisses turn to nips against her flesh, faint moans escaping from the young Princess's lips, a discernible, yet foreign heat rising from the apex of her thighs. 

"Daemon," she whispers, feeling his grip around her waist loosen ever so slightly.

"Laehurlion issa," (Face me), the Prince commands, watching her skirts slide up her legs as she straddles his thigh, stockings noticeable from beneath the pool of fabric along your waist. He could feel the heat of her core through the leather of his trousers, smirking as he recognized her arousal.  

"Move your hips," he states, looking up at the disheveled princess above him. He saw the way her lips parted, breaths heavy from the simplest of touches, the simplest forms of affection. 

"What?" she breathes, watching as Daemon places his hands along her hip bones, rocking her ever so gently. 

And then, she feels it. A jolt of arousal surged at her core as she rubbed against him. A whimper escapes her lips as she rocks herself, falling against Daemon's chest, inhaling the scent of his skin as her nose rubbed against his neck, face tickled with long strands of his silver hair. Daemon's hips buck up instinctively, feeling Y/N's warm breath on his flesh. 

Y/N moans into his skin as she continues to grind against him, overwhelmed by the feeling of pleasure that came from the simplest movement of her hips. She fell into a rhythm, feeling the pressure build in her core. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one that made her toes curl, and breath well up inside her, making her words feel caught in her throat. 

Daemon watches as the girl all but moans his name, feeling the rhythmic drag of her hips against him,  the smoothness of each glide as her undergarments become more and more wet. He sees her chest move against the loosened fabrics, deep breaths of air coming out as helpless moans, and pants, echoing  across the silence of the castle. It made him painfully hard, watching her chase her orgasm through the use of his body, her legs nearly brushing against his erect cock with every methodical rock of her hips. 

It is with a shrill moan that the Princess finishes, resting her forehead against his own, layered in a sticky sheen of sweat. Daemon moves his hands across her body as her movement stills, tracing the curves of her sides, her breasts, mesmerized by the enchanting sight of her body. 

His exploration is interrupted as soft hands find his cheeks, caressing his jaw, feeling the slightest bit of stubble that rested there. His eyes met her own, vibrant and violet, hazed over with the unmistakable glisten of lust. 

"I'd like to repay the favor," Y/N whispers, her hot breath against his lips, "I believe you have more to teach me."

Daemon watches as her delicate hand slides down his chest, down to the noticeable bulge in his trousers. His eyes flutter, as he lets out a shaky breath, "Of course, Princess."

He allows her to rub against him several more times, before directing her to the floor, kneeling between his legs. Her hands find the laces of his trousers, undoing the simple knot.

Y/N paused, a thrum of nervousness echoing over the overwhelming feeling of arousal. Her hands hesitate, hovering over his cock. Daemon's hands lift her chin, bringing her to meet his eyes, "Do you trust me?"

Y/N smiles, swiping her tongue against the plumpness of her own lips, "Never."

Daemon shifts in his seat, pushing himself back to lean against the plush cushions. It was nearly humorous, the obliviousness of his niece. She may have been a weapon with a sword, and a poison with her words, but deep down, she was still a maiden, innocent, and pure. 

"Give me your hand," he says, extending his own.

The girl obliges, watching as Daemon guides her hand to his cock, curling it around the base. He begins pumping himself slowly, Y/N's soft hand dragging along every thick vein that runs across his shaft. He watches as her eyes never leave the sight of his cock, fascinated by the beads of precum that leaked from his red tip. 

A sense of pride wells in his stomach as he tilts his head back, eyes closed, mind clouded by lustful bliss. Y/N's pace never falters, stroking his cock with a delicate, yet firm hand, grazing her thumb gently against his tip. Daemon's hips buck involuntarily as she does, and a small moan escapes his parted lips. 

"May I use my mouth?", the Princess asks, a small sultry voice as blood pounded in Daemon's ears. 

"Yes," he breathes, nearly pleading, not stopping to think of the consequences he may face for her boldness, for his willingness and persuasion. 

He was expecting a kitten lick, perhaps, an experiment of his niece's newfound pleasure, nothing like the long draw of her tongue against his shaft before his tip is engulfed, tongue swirling around the most sensitive part of his manhood. 

Daemon gasps, eyes opening in shock to glare down at the hollow-cheeked girl between his legs. "Where in the Seven Kingdoms did you learn that?", he says, breath shaky. 

The Princess smiles, shying away with a blush across her cheeks, "I read about it."

Daemon nearly laughs at her answer, running a hand through his silver hair, "You read it... in a book?"

"Yes, there are many romance novels in the castle," Y/N elaborates, haste in her words, "Not every book is full of our histories, many are novels of fiction, which I find much more interesting than the accounts of Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives."

"No wonder your mind is filled with so much filth," he says mockingly, tapping against her temple.

"I simply wish to be knowledgeable of the subject for when the time comes that my husband shall bed me," she says, swatting his hand away, resuming her ministrations of his cock. Warmth pooled between her thighs as she began giving open mouth kisses along his shaft. 

Her kisses now reached his tip, where he watched as she licked up the slit, swallowing the moisture that beaded there. Finally, she slides his cock into her mouth, inch by inch as she bobs her head, knowledge failing her as she attempts to take him all, only to gag around the sheer length of his manhood.  Daemon groans as he feels her, craving more as she wraps her hand along the part of his cock that she couldn't take in her mouth. His hand snakes into her hair, threading through her silvery-blonde braids, pins falling to the ground below. 

She moaned around his cock as he pushed her head slightly further, guiding her pace. Daemon's chest heaved as he hissed behind his teeth, eyes shut in torturous pleasure, feeling his release building quickly, craving that relief. 

Y/N watches through hooded eyes as Daemon throws his head back, breaths becoming ragged pants. She knew from her novels that meant he was close, continuing to sloppily bob her head, saliva running down the base of Daemon's cock like a precious elixir, dripping down onto the cushioned seat below. 

Daemon's hand tightened in her hair, digging into her scalp. Even in this state, so desperate for release, she could tell he was holding back, not wanting to hurt her. 

Y/N heard his loud moans echo through the room, feeling his thighs shake against the palms of her soft hands. She tastes his release on her tongue, seed shooting to the back of her throat, thick and heavy as Daemon finishes. She continued out his orgasm, letting the shaking mess of him finish on her tongue before slowly sliding her mouth off of him, to leave his cock exposed, sleek and shining with saliva, his cum bubbling from the tip.

Daemon pants, looking down at the Princess, watching as his seed drips from her mouth, masking her lips in a faint white glow. Smirking, he leans forward, shoving his thumb into the girl's mouth, pulling down her jaw to see his seed nestled sweetly inside, coating her tongue, her cheeks, her throat. 

He roughly pushes her jaw shut, a dominating, possessive urge fallen over him, the urge to claim the Princess as his own, "Swallow."

Obediently, Y/N does, feeling his warm seed trail down her throat. She opens her mouth again, revealing nothing but the pinkish inside of her gums, no evidence of Daemon's release only moments before. "Was I thoroughly punished, teacher?"

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Daemon awoke to find himself naked, yet surprisingly, alone, in his own bed. A faint breeze carried the scent of the sea through an open window, early morning sun shining on his pale skin. 

Daemon rolls over, smiling at the fond memories of the previous night, the Princess between his legs, her harmonious moans as she rides his thigh. He did honor his word, keeping her maidenhead intact, despite every masculine urge begging for him to go further once his initial release. Like a true Prince, he had kissed her hand goodnight, before returning to his own chambers, stroking himself to completion several more times before he rested. 

His impure thoughts are interrupted by a faint knock at the door.

"What?" he barks, watching as a nervous looking chamber maid enters, her arms tucked neatly to the sides of her baggy clothing.

"The King requests your presence in the Great Hall, Prince Consort," she murmurs, averting her eyes as the Prince stands, attempting to locate his trousers. 

"I shall be there in a moment," Daemon replies, shooing away the chambermaid to leave him to dress himself. 

He is true to his word, minutes later at the doors to the Great Hall, heavily armored guards hauling them open to their Prince. There was no need to announce his presence, as the only other person in the Hall was the King himself, seated on the Iron Throne, withered as ever, cane replacing the sword he once carried. 

Daemon knew this ploy, his brother's use of the throne for power. It had been used on him many years ago, when he had first been banished for declaring the "king for a day." Yet still, as the brothers aged, Viserys relied upon his throne, basking in the light of a King, rather than a man who Daemon had grown up sword fighting, and racing horses with. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, brother?," he says, head held high, bold voice echoing through the high stretched walls. 

"Did you do it?" the King growls, his voice hoarse, yet face stoic and unchanging. 

Daemon rolls his eyes, stopping at the base of the throne, right where the  melted swords jutted against the ground," I don't know what you mean."

Viserys stands, his cane clicking on the stone as stepped down the stairs, facing his brother, "My daughter, Y/N. Rumors have spread in a fortnight that you bedded her."

A smirk appears on Daemon's face before he can compose himself. Pain stretches across his leg as he drops to the ground, the heavy metal of Viserys's cane hits against his shin with enough force to bruise.

"Won't you even deny it?" the King hisses, looking to the Prince, now on his knees before him. 

"To discredit these charges I must know what you are accusing me of," Daemon returns, attempting to stand. 

The harsh blow of Viserys's cane comes again, this time to his back, causing him to fall forward, stomach hitting the floor. Daemon groans, face meeting the cold stone of the Great Hall. 

"You have defiled her. Your niece, my daughter. What Lord will wed her now, now that she has been ruined by such an insolent, whore-fucking beast!"

Daemon attempts to stand once again, only to be held down by the firm leather boot of his King. Instead, he rolls to his back, so he can look the furious King in the eye, "What would it matter? Any man has fucked their way through the Streets of Silk by the time he has reached Y/N's age."

Another whack of the cane hits his side, one that Daemon can feel against his ribs as pain radiates  across his body. It blinds him temporarily, white, searing hot, and when he regains his vision, Viserys has crouched down beside him, crown mere inches from his face. 

"You know why, Daemon! If you wish to speak foolishly then I shall have my king's guard cut out your tongue so you may not speak at all!" He shouts, before falling back, into a coughing fit.

Daemon takes this time to push himself off the ground, now in a sitting position. He inhales sharply, glaring at the man he had once thought so highly of, many years before.

"I didn't bed her, brother. Her virtue is still intact, her cunt will still bleed when she is penetrated."

The King looks to him, and for once, there is a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, mixed within the exhaustion that plagued his waking hours, "Don't let your tongue defile my daughter as your actions have, tell me what you did. Moans were heard from Y/N's quarters, brother, the quarters that you exited after the noises silenced. You have plagued this family enough, Daemon, the truth, swear it."

Daemon smooths his leathers, now coated in a thin layer of dirt from the castle floors, " I merely assisted her in achieving pleasure, to which she offered to return the favor. Your daughter is keen on keeping her maidenhead till she is wed, as a man of my word, I never touched her precious cunt. I swear it, on the old Gods and the new."

Viserys rubs his face with a tired hand, "You understand what this has cost our kingdom? What have you done for the future, what alliances have broken? What little honor we have left?"

"You are the dragon, brother, your word is law. Y/N is untouchable if you declare her so." Daemon hisses.

The King stands, leaning heavily on the metal cane, resuming his place on the Iron Throne, " You act as power is something that can be demanded, yet it can only be earned. I have worked hard to ensure the protection of the realm, of loyalty from our people, and you have dilapidated the foundations I have built, not just for the realm, but for her, for our family! I have given you resources, I have given you a wife-"

"A wife whom despised my being with every honor she stood for. A wife who is now dead!" Daemon counters, anger in his voice.

'What is it that you want, brother?" Viserys growls, "What will tame your path of destruction?"

Daemon hesitates, rolling the offer, as backhanded as it was, over in his mind, "I want Y/N. Give her to me, brother, and I will wed her in the tradition of our house, produce for you a true Targaryen offspring, one of pure, unsullied blood."

Viserys brings a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples in exhaustion as the Rogue Prince continues, "Would it not bring you peace to know she is treated well? To know she is in safe hands, not forced to be bed by a prideful Lord in a house that is not her own?"

"You have never brought me peace, Daemon," the King says, spite and hatred lacing his words,"I want you out of my sight. Go, while I clean up the mess you have created."

"As you wish, brother.", the Prince exhales, nodding his head as he briskly turns to the door, boots clicking on the stone pavement as he does. 

"She sucks cock like a whore," he calls out, loud words echoing through the Great Hall, ensuring they were heard by the King, no matter the elongated distance between them. 

Daemon turns around, watching as a hateful glare appears on the King's face, red from anger,  or even the slightest bit of humiliation. A smile graces the Rouge Prince's lips, "I swear it."

[thatfreshi]

As a prompt - maybe Astarion (or Tav for that matter) going absolutely feral (and i mean really) when someone or something hurts badly the other (or try to) ?

I don't know of it has already been donc by you and if it has sorry, really appreciate your writing though ! Thank you <3

Learning to trust is difficult

tw - themes of death, talk of injuries

"I just don't know how you don't seem to care! It's bad Astarion, really bad, and I'm not going to sit here and watch you hurt."

While you and the vampire were on night watch, you got jumped by some thieves scrounging around in the woods of the Sword Coast. He took the brunt of the fight, taking quite a couple slices to the abdomen.

"We'll wait til morning, like I said. Shadowheart will be rested by then, and we'll all be fine."

"Oh right, so you can bleed out? You think you're such a jester, don't you."

You already dealt with the perpetrators, making sure they were flayed across the grass, any hopes they had of stealing from you shot down from miles away.

"If it were that bad I would wake her Tav, but it's not."

Gods, he's frustrating. Driving you to the point of madness, constantly. For someone who finally has a second chance at life, he can be quite reckless. Instead of trying to argue with him further, you walk over to where he's propped himself against his bedroll, and start undressing his wounds. He almost tries to push you away, but the lightest touch of the cuts makes him lose his strength.

"Tav, stop it."

"No! Because you can wrap these all you want, but if you leave these like this overnight it's going to get nasty, and I know for a fact you can't stitch wounds like this."

"Then it is was it is."

"No, I'm getting her. Stay here."

Astarion grabs at your wrist. There's a dreary silence for a moment, and he refuses your eye contact.

"I've done this by myself, for how long? Do you have any idea what it makes me feel like, having to turn to someone who is practically a stranger, and put my life in their hands? I did that once my love, and I have regretted it ever since."

And you know exactly what he's talking about, that night in the alley, fragmented memories only covered up by digging through six feet of dirt.

"You would've died though."

"Perhaps it would have been best that way."

You know that no selfish reason you have about wanting him around could ever make up for all the things he endured under Cazador, that if he had bled out that night he would at least be at peace.

"This is different though. We're all working together, we all want the same things. Shadowheart isn't going to hold this over you."

"You don't know that. I mean look at me. I planned on seducing you and getting rid of you as soon as I could, all to keep myself safe. We will never truly know what the others want, what their intentions with us are."

"Then why trust me?"

He hesitates as you wrap his abdomen once again.

"I... I don't know... You're just, different."

"Then what's to say Shadowheart isn't also different? Or any of them for that matter?"

You cup his face in your hand.

"It's just easier to risk one of you. To risk loving you, and only you. Because if you betray me? Then I've played myself for a fool, and I can't have two knives in my back."

"You don't have to trust her Aster, but you need her right now. We need her, because I can't lose you either."

Your hand trails to his, and you feel at each other's fingers for a few long moments. He tries to come up with something to say, knowing he will most likely bleed out if you two don't wake the cleric.

"You trust me right? You're making that risk at least, taking that chance? Then trust that I'm trying to make the right choice for you."

Even if he doesn't bleed out, he doesn't deserve to writhe in pain all night, to which you're sure he would say something about how he's done it a million times before. Why, why does he try to be strong for you?

"Alright my love, wake her."

You get up without a word, planting a quick kiss on his forehead before leaving the tent, your feet gliding to where Shadowheart is sleeping.

"Shadowheart, we need you."

She's a light sleeper, like most of you, and wakes with the few simple words you speak.

"What it is?"

The cleric asks as she walks with you.

"Astarion. We had some unwelcome visitors on watch. It's... it's not pretty."

You come back to your tent, gently moving the fabric by the entrance as Shadowheart moves to him, focused on doing what needs to be done. She unwraps the bandages and you come to his side. He's silent.

"Lady of Sorrows, this is horrific Astarion. How long have you let this sit like this?"

It takes him a moment to muster the words, still clearly embarrassed to be receiving her help this late. You've learned though that he hates people speaking for him, so you just wait.

"It's been about half an hour. Tav and I have been arguing about getting your assistance. They insisted we wake you, and I insisted we shouldn't bother."

"Well, you're lucky Tav isn't as stubborn as you are, because this is nasty. While I'm not as familiar with vampire anatomy, this would not have sat well overnight."

She takes a moment to gather herself, before casting healing touch, letting the magic linger a little longer than normal. You watch as his pale skin slowly comes back together, stitching itself up like embroidery thread. Shadowheart takes a moment to admire her work, smirking slightly. Her expression then becomes somber for a moment.

"As much as I'm not the sappy type, please don't hesitate to get me when you need me. Despite how much you all annoy me, I'm still rather fond of you as companions. I would hate to see any of you go too soon, especially over something as simple as this."

Astarion says nothing in return, and soon after the devout Sharran leaves the two of you alone. The two of you lie down, wrapping yourselves up in each other, limbs entangled as if you're scared of being torn apart.

"I know it's hard, but you have to learn to ask for help. If not for yourself, for me. Because I can only do so much my star."

"I know."

"I'm sorry I yelled. It just really scares me, the idea that I could lose you."

He nuzzles into your chest, the movement dampening his voice.

"I don't think anyone's ever been afraid to lose me, except me. And I fear I lost myself far too long ago for it to matter."

You wrap your fingers in his hair, sitting in the sorrow with him.

"All things that are lost can be found. And we'll find you again my love, I promise."

He doesn't thank you, which you don't mind. After all, Astarion isn't used to having anyone to genuinely thank. But the way he lets you hold him, that slowly but surely the walls are coming down, that's his own way of saying it, saying that he's grateful. And as long as he lives to see another day, you'll take whatever he gives you, for as long as both of you live.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 5

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.5

“Hey, stretch. You here to play doctor?”

“I’d just like to interview you. I’m not going to touch you if that's what you’re concerned about.”

“Why not?”

“...ANYhow, I have a few questions for you.”

“Yes, I'm single.”

“Not those kinds of questions. Can you tell me your full first name?”

“Can you give me yours first?”

“Fiddleford.”

“Stan.”

“Okay, Stan. Where are you from? And don’t you dare say from my dreams.”

“Well yeah, I’d say ‘from your dreams’, not mine. Other than that, probably some gutters or a ditch somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I remember, I’ve been out on the streets, or in prison. I think I had a car at some point? But I dunno what happened with that, it makes my head burn trying to think about it.”

“Do you have any family?”

“No.”

“Do you remember ever having a family?”

“I don’t remember having one, but I feel like I had one before.”

“What do you feel like happened to them?”

“They probably got tired of my BS and told me to take a hike. It’s how it always goes with me.”

“That’s a theory you’ve put together. I’m asking what you feel like happened.”

“Feel like I had a dad who was waiting for an excuse to get rid of me. I feel like I had a mom who was a liar - I probably got it from her. Maybe a sibling or two? But they don’t want me around.”

“And what do you think about Stanford?”

“You mean the guy who drugged me, kidnapped me, and is keeping me prisoner in his evil basement sub-lab in the middle of the woods? I gotta say, he makes an impression.”

“But does he seem familiar to you?”

“I don’t think I could forget someone like him” 

“Is it because of his six fingers?”

“It’s twelve , and no, that's pretty normal compared to all of his other weird crap. It’s because he’s fucking crazy , and convinced I’m some mystery twin of his. But let’s stop talking about him, and talk about you instead. Are you single? You doing anything later?”

“Stay on track, Stan. Let’s take a step back and go back to talking about you. Have you recently gotten into any accidents or sustained major injuries?”

“Define ‘major’.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Judging by your friend's reaction to the stab wounds when we met, I don’t think your definition of major injury is the same as mine.”

---

"What did you determine, Fiddleford?"

"It wasn't easy to glean things because he would not stop flirting with me - was he always this way?"

"He was a little girl-crazy when we were younger, I didn't know he liked men. But that doesn’t matter right now, what were your findings?"

"He has full cognitive function. And based on your scans he has no signs of brain damage - comparing images of his brain to yours, his genetically identical twin, there isn't any morphological difference. Based on my interview, it sounds like he's never sustained significant head trauma neither.”

"But..?"

"If he really does have amnesia, it wasn't caused by a head injury."

"What else could it be?"

"A few things - perhaps he took a drug or substance that warped his brain chemistry. Or- more likely in my opinion, based on his lifestyle and what little history he tells me, he might have undergone extreme distress that caused a mental breakdown."

"Mental trauma can cause someone to lose their memories?"

"Our memories can be a shield and a sword, Stanford. Even good memories that can comfort you through a difficult time, can also cause pain and frustration when compared to a bad predicament.

He must have gone through something so traumatic that the only way his mind could cope with the stress was to... forget things. This is a phenomenon known as repression . Most of the time, a person would repress the traumatic event itself, but it looks like he’s defied the statistics and forgotten everything else instead.”

“He can’t be… that traumatized, right? This is Stanley we’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what he was like before, but he’s got a mullet, Stanford. There ain’t no way he's in a good place mentally.”

"And how would repressing memories about our family- about me , possibly help him cope with trauma?"

"If I'm going to be frank with you, this is the first time in the years that I've known you that you even mentioned having a twin brother . You've talked about other family members before, such as your older brother Sherman, but never him.

If his mind had to prioritize which memories to keep, why would it keep memories of someone he isn't close to?"

"We are- well, we were close."

"Were is a strong word, Stanford. Survival focuses on the present, not the past.”

“... What can we do to get his memories back?”

“I’m not a therapist. But perhaps if you can get him out of the survival mindset, he’d be open to some introspection.”

“So we must disable his fight-flight-freeze response…”

“Stanford Pines, I will throw that damn tranquilizer gun down the bottomless pit if you don’t put it down. Ya'll really need to stop using the slippery slope of science without consideration for morality like it's a damn seesaw. There are other ways to get him out of fight-flight.”

“Such as?”

“I would suggest you make him feel like he’s in a safe space, but that might not work.”

“Why not? He’s perfectly safe here.”

“But does he know that? From his perspective, you’re a stranger who shot him with a tranq dart and imprisoned in your basement for scientific exploitation. And I’ll remind you, this is all without his consent. He is here against his will.”

“It’s for his own good.”

“According to you, someone he thinks he doesn’t know. This may be your twin, Stanford, but he doesn’t know that. You need to gain his trust; maybe he would have trusted you by default in the past, but that isn’t the case now.”

“I… I’m not sure how to do that, Fiddleford. At one point, we knew everything about each other. And now I barely know him, and he thinks I’m a stranger. I’m still angry at him, and still bitter about what he did before he left home, and I’m disappointed in the conman and convict he turned into… but I’m sad, because he's convinced he’s not my brother.”

“You ain’t exactly the same person you were even when we first met all them years ago. People change. How about you try talking to him?”

“Just talking to him?”

“This may be difficult for you in particular, but you should try talking to him like he’s a person; and not a science experiment, anomaly, or an equation you’re trying to solve… Hey, hey don’t be looking like the last pea at pea-time now. I believe in you, you got this.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford.”

*Ford goes back downstairs to the lab. Fiddleford waits for him to be out of earshot before speaking*

“Bless his heart. This is going to be a disaster.”

To be continued…

[melkyt]

Lawlu as parents mmm, (mpreg Luffy vibes)

Luffy doesn't have any father figures in his early life, not even sure what dads do with a kid that is not dump on some island and ditch.

Shanks and his five seconds of fame that Luffy mentions every chance he gets dont count in this scenario, I love Shanks as a dad content, but his track record is spotty xd

Law as a Father is conflicted, scared, and happy at the same time. He had a loving biofather who treated them with kindness and still thinks that Cora made a great guardian despite their rough start together. So he tries to follow their example, so he would never leave his child, though he looks at how Luffy was raised and decides that he will be solely responsible for their kid.

Thats okay, he has a space on the polar tang for when it arrives, decorating with sunflowers and hearts so atleast the kiddo knows the symbols of both their parents, even if they never get the chance to meet Luffy for long.

The relationship Law and Luffy have in Law's eyes is just some fun and a distraction when they both needed it most. So they ended up with a kid in the process, its fine. Law gets used to repeating its fine through the entire process of getting things ready for the child to be part of his life.

Then they arrive, a little ball of shine that resembles them both with bright pale eyes and a brighter smile.

Law is completely taken by their baby. He will spoil them and give them world!

Luffy does that stare of his when he is serious about something, an unwavering determination focused on the kid. It unnerves Law a little as they usually share everything, and he understand what Luffy is thinking better than he did when they met, but sometimes its hard to read Luffy's focused expressions. Especially now,

Law decides its best not to ask, he doesnt want to hear that Luffy thinks they should leave the child behind for its own sake. Worry gnawing at his mind, that he will have to do something drastic to keep the baby and that it will break the relationship he built with Luffy and the strawhats

The baby has to stay on the Sunny for a few weeks, and Law decides to stay there as well. He is determined not to leave the kid. Every waking moment he is carrying the baby arround, washing, feeding, anything he can do while Luffy recovers.

Running himself ragged in the process. He wants to be the best parent ever, and sleep or food doesn't factor into the equation when Law gets hyperfocused. He is a mess. Coming into the nursery on the Sunny with a yawn, just to look at their baby.

Luffy stops him before Law can go to pick them. Instead, forcing Law to take his bed in the room next door.

Law out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow. When he wakes up, Luffy and the baby are gone. His mind immediately jumps to the worst-case scenario. They are both pirates, and a ship is no place for a baby. That's something Luffy said before, quoting Shanks. So Law is worried he didn't even get to say goodbye.

Law is not bothering to grab his hat, his sword, or even to put on shoes, slipping on the wood. He hears Luffy laughs and runs into the kitchen of the Sunny.

Much ot his relief and surprise, the baby is still there. Luffy is wearing one of those baby slings that let him move around hands free, chattering to the kid about what food Sanji is making, getting everything wrong, much to Sanji's annoyance, as he corrects his captain, determined that the baby knows for sure that cooking is an art!

Law pulling Luffy into a hug, something he only does when nobody is watching. Yet now he doesnt care because they are still there. Luffy chuckles and hugs him back. "Duh, we're still here Traffy" He ruffles Law's hair, the baby giggles where it is pressed between them.

Law after that mini panic at losing family once again, decides to talk to Luffy and what they are doing. That he is prepared fo take care of the kid on the polar tang and while its Luffy's choice in the end and not his, he would rather have the kid in his life then leave it on some island whete it might be safe. Might not have people after it just for being born, but Law would rather be able to protect their kid all on his own.

Luffy pouts, "Who said you gotta do things alone, Traffy?" Luffy holds their kid closer. He tells Law about how even though he dont care about it anymore, he remembers how he felt about being tossed out all the time as a kid and that it hurt not having a place to belong.

He remembers how much Ace hated his dad for leaving him with old man Garp. How Uta felt when Shanks left her.

Luffy aint gonna do that. The kid stays and they are gonna raise it with their crews, with their families and make sure it knowz that its loved!

Law smiles with a soft expression, tension leaving his body. They will have to deal with a lot of danger and shenanigans to protect their child in the future, but at least they will do it together.

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Kid losing his arm in battle with Fem!reader

🌷Kid🌷

Word Count: 694

The battle was over, he could hear the agony cry of his lover from the distance and a faint ringing in his ear. He stood unmoving waiting for his opponent’s next move, the Red-haired pirate's captain didn’t move he just stood in place putting his sword away.

Kid cursed as if he wasn’t done fighting, he was ignoring the sharp pain from his left shoulder, ignoring the ringing in his ear and his lover’s desperate cry for him to stop. He was standing on pure rage and pride. He couldn’t lose, not like this, he came all this way only to lose.

He scoffed, it was too early to lose, he had come so far, and the Grandline was full of challenges, but he managed to cross the first half. He stood in place still not moving, he tried lifting his hand but there was no movement, or it was delayed.

Shanks watched the young captain; the battle was over as a clear winner and loser. He felt bad for such a loss to the young captain, but the boy was crude and dangerous. He only stopped hearing a young woman sob begging him to stop his attack.

“Walk away, Captain Kid,” Shanks said, “Your crew still needs you,” Kid scowled harshly but he couldn’t do more than that, he was starting to lose focus, and his left hand was still not responding as it sat across from, a pool of blood where he stood. He fell on his knees reaching where his left hand used to be and finding nothing to grab onto.

His breathing becoming shallow, he continued to glare at the older Captain who still had a frown etched on his face, his brown eyes narrowing down at Kid but he stood unmoving. The young boy was struggling to keep focus, he could feel blood spilling over his eyes making his vision hazy, and hands wrapping around him and her soft cry. She was a Kid pirate they do not plea to anyone.

He thought he had said those words and growled them, he wasn’t defeated just yet but he saw everything turning blank.

Her words were the last thing he heard, “Thank you,” and her warmth was the last thing he felt.

When he woke up, he was in his bed, the warm colored brown wood staring down at him instead of the icey brown eyes of Captain Shanks. He could hear shuffling before feeling a warm body eloping the top half of his chest and her face buried in his cheek.

He was feeling rage, rage that he lost, rage that one of the four emperors had his lover pleading to let him live, rage that all the work he had accomplished was for nothing. He lifted his right hand, taking in everything. He lost an arm in this battle; it would have been better if had lost his life. He could feel her tears on his cheek, and he froze.

No one had cried for him, even growing up in the slums scavenging for food, or when he lost friends due to pirate raids or all those times he got hurt just trying to survive but here she was someone he loved crying over him.

“I am so glad you didn’t die,” she whispered kissing his cheek, “I am so happy you are alive,” they could still achieve his dream chase after the One Piece.

Kid wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her on his lap so he could see her face. His orange eyes glared down at her, her eyes were red and puffy she had been crying for a while. She was a pirate now, the day dos crying was over but telling her that, he couldn’t form the words.

“I haven’t lost yet,” he finally said as called to metal in his room, his bandaged left hand began being surrounded with metal and he created a makeshift arm. It was harder to control but he would get used to it. “The Kid Pirates haven’t lost,” he brushed the tears from her eyes and smiled.  She could only smile back glad to see Kid’s spirit wasn’t broken.

[crazylittlejester]

how are you?

I hope your doing good :3

do you perhapsedaly have any Sky headcannons?????

-anon silly

(we are going to pretend that I’m NOT answering this 18 days late, i’m so sorry anon 😭)

BUT YES!!! I DO!!! (sorry for any spelling mistakes)

- After his parents died he was kinda bounced around a bit before he was enrolled in the academy and just stayed there, and even then on breaks he’d go home with a friend. The first family he stayed with was Groose (they were six) and they became incredibly good friends, it wasn’t until they were nine that Groose started bullying him. But Groose was the first friend Sky remembers having and it made him really upset to lose that for eight years (they’re best friends again now after Sky’s journey)

- Going from Skyloft down to the surface is a Bit of an adjustment for him and until his body adjusts to the altitude and temperature difference he just has an absolutely miserable time and struggles to breathe for a bit because it just feels wrong

- I hc he has epilepsy, which brings with it a lot of chronic fatigue, especially because his meds he has to take can make him feel a bit tired. School was a bit of a struggle for him between that and then absence seizures, especially because people didn’t realize at first what EXACTLY was happening and he would get in trouble for not paying attention before they all figured it out. ofc now since Skyloft is such a small, tight knit community and everyone knows they’ve all got his back, but that period of time where they were trying to figure out what was happening was a little rough

- On more than one occasion he has been walking with his gf and the sun just caught her in just the right way and he got so distracted he walked straight off of fucking Skyloft. Groose will NEVER let him live this shit down

- Sometimes he’ll just go sit down in Faron Woods and just stare at that one structure right before the entrance to the deep woods and think about everything. He’s not REALLY used to forests, the sky islands had trees, sure, but thick wooded forests that cover that much GROUND were kinda new to him and it was the first place he really explored so he’ll sit there a lot

- Riding horses for him is like. The equivalent of going to a different country where they drive on the opposite side of the road and then renting a car. Like yes mechanically everything is the same and he knows what he’s SUPPOSED to do but it’s trippy as fuck and sometimes he gets a little confused

- I hc the knights of skyloft are like first responders (which… honestly idk if thats a hc or if thats literally just what they ARE) and that Sky is similar to like the fantasy equivalent of an EMT so he and wars are both like the first two people the chain go to if theres an issue they CANNOT fix and a healing potion just isnt gonna cut it

- He really likes to be included in little things, like it doesn’t matter if Zelda or Groose is just going to the store, he wants to come with

- Music is very important to him, and he can’t play ALL the time but sometimes if he’s stressed or anxious and can’t play he’ll quietly hum to himself because it reminds him of home

- When the chain first met him, the ones who are more attuned to magic were a bit unnerved by him because his presence feels so Ancient and they can FEEL the power just radiating off of him. He’s a very sweet and gentle person (because he chooses every day to be kind instead of giving in to the anger, tho it absolutely slips out a bit when you SERIOUSLY piss him off), but the chain isnt stupid and at first they were wary of him because without actually knowing it, they could just sense this was the man who forged the Master Sword and slayed the demon king. Like they couldn’t just look at him and learn that INFORMATION, but it came as absolutely no shock to them when they DID learn it because “yeah that tracks” (Sky is not the only one who has such a strong presence, Time and Wild felt weird to physically be near at first as well, tho for very different reasons and in different ways, and also Legend sometimes feels a little Odd but not in the way the other three do and they can’t tell if hes just weird in a Normal kinda weird way or if there’s somethin up with that)

[lafaiette]

Also, can we talk about magic? i suppose they wanted to make the game more luring to new players, but magic used to be rare, closed under the lock and feared. Mages were feared and cosidered dangerous. Tevinter was an execption, not a general rule. How come people forgot only ten years ealier there was a regular war between mages and chantry, the very reason Inquisition was formed? Why is there magic, anciet elven magic behin every corner? It feels like reboot.

"It feels like reboot"

Because it is a reboot 💀 Or at least, it's the first step towards one.

Explaining how magic is seen in Thedas, all the different opinions and fears and hopes people have about it, would have been impossible in a single game clearly aimed at luring new players in. They put all the major pieces of explanation in the codex (one part of it is filled and complete since from the start of the game, because it's basically a catalogue detailing everything about Thedas), and let you play as a mage to your heart's content, with no strings, no responsibilities attached.

They tried to preserve some logic in Minrathous - there's mention of how Tevinter's families try to breed the perfect mages to rise in power and influence, so that's good. But you also see a "Noble" mingling with a "Civilian" among the fishermen, and telling her she shouldn't waste time and money on making things better for the poor people. What the hell is she doing there, then? Why isn't she in Minrathous proper, drinking wine and looking down on the poor districts?

Just around every corner, a few feet away from the closest tavern, Venatori are constantly putting up blood magic barriers. The same in the Necropolis, with the Venatori making camp just one door behind the main hub where the Mourn Watch is stationed. Everyone performs rituals, the Circles are barely mentioned, a Forbidden One is hiding behind a door in the Necropolis' main hall and no one ever noticed it before, not even Emmrich.

Statues of Fen'Harel and the Evanuris, elven relics and elven contraptions are hidden everywhere - everywhere. To show how vast and influential the elven empire was? That was probably the devs' intent. Does it always make sense? No. Is it for gameplay purposes, to fill the map with puzzles and stuff to find like in the 2000s? Obviously.

In Inquisition, there was an entire area of the Hinterlands ravaged by the Templars and rebel mages. The refugees were scared of walking the roads to find food because there was wild magic flying around. Rabid templars crazy on lyrium roamed the woods, and the Chantry was powerless.

Elven ruins were scattered around with sense, with a purpose, barely visible among the vegetation, forgotten and avoided, or almost forced to fuse with Chantry's buildings (just look at the Emerald Graves). There was a logic behind the NPCs' and props' locations in the world.

Here, there is simply no logic or consequence to anything ever. The Black Divine is never addressed, as far as I remember. Dalish clans have lost any distinction - the only elven faction you meet is that of the Veil Jumpers, which is a weird cocktail of elves who all know how bad the Evanuris are and random humans and Qunari. Yes, there are humans being allowed to guard ancient elven artifacts in a Dragon Age game. No, they are not called shem. Yes, they all get along swimmingly.

The Crows are not slavers and dangerous figures anymore - they're actually the heroes of Treviso! They treat their fledgling Crows with care and respect, no torture involved. Where did you hear such a preposterous idea? Zevran? Who's Zevran?

Taash says the Qun isn't a prison. How is that possible? They sent assassins after Bull when he defected. They hunt Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth if they dare leave, and if a sten loses his sword, he cannot return home, because his brethren would kill him, as "to a Qunari warrior, the sword is the soul."

So yeah, this was definitely supposed to be a reboot for Dragon Age, just like Andromeda was supposed to be one for Mass Effect. That's why everything falls flat.

[esamastation]

Part thirty-five of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four

-

Well, Sephiroth seems to be in a better mood than yesterday. Maybe he was just coming down from his… whatever it was that happened in the training room. Angeal still isn't entirely sure. Though the Turks had debriefed him and even showed him a video, it didn't make that much sense. Especially with the blood vomiting. Which Angeal still isn't entirely over, either.

But Sephiroth seems, while still not quite himself, at least cheered up. He'd relaxed in increments during their walk into the woods, and the change of environment - or most likely, leaving the camp and its staring occupants behind - made him a little less closed off.

"This place is so alive," Sephiroth comments, peering up at the leaf canopy above then. "The air is so fresh."

"Mmhmm," Angeal smiles. "A welcome change from Midgar, huh?"

From the way he's looking around them, carefully taking in everything, Sephiroth can't remember much of anything about Wutai either - it's all new to him. Seeing his fascination kind of makes Angeal want to see his take on Mideel. Or, hell, Gongaga. Sephiroth would be very entertained by the local wildlife there, going by his reactions now.

"What is this thing?" Sephiroth asks, holding up what looks like a fistful of long grass. It wiggles in his hold, little legs kicking at the air.

"Razor Weed - I think the locals call it Leg-Cutting Grass," Angeal says, leaning in to watch the spiky beast wiggling in Sephiroth's grip. "They're pretty common and can deflate truck tires."

Sephiroth turns the little monster this way and that while it makes angry noises at him. "I bet. It's it a plant or an animal?"

"Uh. I don't actually know?" Angeal offers and gives him a look. "Someone back at the camp might. All I know is that they're annoying to fight."

Sephiroth hums, considering the weed, testing the blades sticking out of its head. He seems to struggle with something before sighing. "I can't kill it, it's too cute." He sounds almost disappointed. 

"... It's just a monster?" Angeal says, giving him a weird look. "I've seen men almost lose their legs, stepping into these things."

"Sounds like their own fault," Sephiroth says and crouches down to let the angry weed go. "Off you go, little buddy."

The Razor Weed answers by trying to attack him with its grass blades, all but lunging at him. Sephiroth just snorts and flicks it into the forest with his finger. "Cute," he concludes.

Angeal scratches at the back of his head. Though low-level mobs aren't really that big of a deal, still… "We're supposed to be, ah, weeding the monster population here, you know. That includes Razor Weeds."

"It's just a little grass thing," Sephiroth says. "It barely reaches your knee!"

"They're a menace and can cast spells," Angeal points out. "Your usual Infantry troopers can barely -"

"They cast spells?" Sephiroth asks, fascinated, and stands up, looking around interestedly. "I want to see that! Let's go find another."

Oh, boy. Running a hand through his hair, Angeal hurries after him. Well, it's… a novel experience, seeing Sephiroth of all people so excited about something. And of course it would be monsters. Usually Sephiroth is more interested in fighting monsters rather than just observing them, though, but it's still a definite improvement to his mood from yesterday. Even if it's because of weeds.

That changes when they get surrounded by about half a dozen of the little monsters.

"Still cute?" Angeal asks, fending two of them off with the flat of the Buster Sword's blade.

Apparently, yes, going by the glow in Sephiroth's eyes. "Don't kill them yet, I want to see some spells!" The man - the maniac - says, using still sheathed Masamune to push the monsters back.

"You know, as much as I appreciate your scientific curiosity, these things can actually do some damage in bigger groups, you know!" Angeal calls to him.

"Yeah, yeah," Sephiroth answers, flippantly. "So what do we need to do to make them cast spells?"

One of the Razor Weeds answers for him - by casting a Magic Hammer on Sephiroth. Which, Angeal is pretty sure, Sephiroth just lets it happen! Thankfully it's not a physical attack - Magic Hammer hits you in the MP - though, looking at Sephiroth's reaction…

"Oh, you little Qi-stealing bastard," Sephiroth says, and that's that for the Razor Weeds.

"... Uh," Angeal says, while the Razor Weeds fall over, mowed down like so much grass, and Sephiroth stands over them looking very hurt and disappointed. Angeal clears his throat, trying to bite back a smile. "So. What did we learn?"

Sephiroth rubs at his stomach, and gives him a flat look. "Yeah, haha, rub it in," he mutters and then, "Oh, hey, they left the remains behind!"

"... Most things do when you kill them, yes," Angeal agrees and looks at him interestedly. "So, you remember Mako monsters?"

Sephiroth is crouching again, examining the dead Razor Weeds. "Mm?" 

"Monsters that converge around Mako concentrations," Angeal explains, hoisting Buster Sword back to his back. "You… don't remember?"

"Uh. I remember that some things just sort of… disperse instead of leaving anything physical?" Sephiroth asks, sounding rather hopeful. "Is that a thing, or…?"

"It's a thing - Mako monsters. They're attracted to Mako, they are common around reactors and natural Mako pools - so people call them Mako monsters," Angeal explains. "The slums under Midgar are full of them. They're kind of like more physical ghosts, I think."

"... Huh," Sephiroth hums, and pokes at the dead Razor Weeds. "So monsters around here…?"

"Mostly physical," Angeal agrees. "I think there are some natural Mako springs around here, so there might be Mako monsters too… but I haven't seen any personally."

"Hmmm," Sephiroth hums and stands up. "That is fascinating."

"It sure is," Angeal laughs, because it really isn't, not to him, but Sephiroth has always been a bit weird. "Shall we continue? There's many more monsters to see."

"Yes, let's."

"... And get hit by," Angeal adds and looks at Sephiroth. "Actually, are you going to let all of them get a hit in? Because if you are, I'd like to know ahead of time, just in case I need to have a Remedy in hand."

"I'm not going to let myself get hit again," Sephiroth says, primly. "I wouldn't have, if I realised what it was going to do."

"... Okay. Good." Angeal nods. "There are better ways to figure out your opponents' skillsets, anyway. Or you can just let them do their thing but get out of the way before it hits."

"Right, of course, that's something you can do," Sephiroth says, sheepish, and clears his throat. "I knew that."

Angeal gets a Remedy out, just in case.

-

SY, thinking FF7: ... Oh right, turn based combat isn't actually a thing.

[maxinemeows]

So multiple things inspired me to write this little angsty Flower Husbands drabble: their interactions in this season, the scene on bread bridge in Limited Life (and how Jimmy seems to be okay to ask Scott for lives as if they're nothing,) and also in general how I am noticing how their dynamic is more antagonistic and violent now (similarly how Joel and Scott are usually.)

Also, Jimmy not knowing who was Scott's soulmate when he was doing the Life Series quiz made me think that it would be cool to include here!

(if you know my last Scott post you'll probably understand why this thing exists- PGFJGHF.)

-----

A Deal with heartbreak

Session 6 started with a bang, multiple people dying because of the sudden appearance of the wildcard from today, Jimmy being one of them, making him be a red life now.

Scott walks near the cherry wood stairs of the Bamboozlers and looks around to check on them to see if they found out something new about the wildcard.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Scott calls out until he notices Jimmy coming down the mountain. He seems to be wearing the clothes he did last session, but this time they’re different colors.

Jimmy waves at Scott and approaches him rapidly.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Scott smiles warmly. Sure, Jimmy is red but he wouldn’t attack him out of the blue, even though last sessions he kind of did, but Scott hopes he won’t now.

“Dude this wildcard is crazy! I can’t believe I died so quickly! I mean, at least I wasn’t the only one.”

“You have to be more careful Jimmy, Mumbo died last session so you might follow him…”

Jimmy sighs and crosses his arms shaking his head.

“Yeah, you’re still a green man, I don't know how you do it!” As Jimmy says that he gets an idea.

Scott shrugs at that. He just goes under people’s radars, though he is also good at the games, but better than Gem and Joel? Probably not.

“Scott man, I really need a life… Now that I am red is more urgent than yesterday! Please can I kill you?” Jimmy puts his two hands together and tries to make the best puppy eyes.

Scott chuckles at his request, and for a moment he considers it.

“Uhm, sorry Jimmy, I really don’t want to lose a life now. I gave one to Pearl yesterday so-” He gets interrupted as Jimmy gets closer to Scott, making him visibly more nervous.

“Oh! You gave her a life so she wouldn’t be red right? This is the same situation! Please man!” 

“But that’s different Jimmy! She’s my teammate and I also promised her that if she turns red she could kill me!”

With that said Scott thinks this is over but he then sees how Jimmy is suddenly holding a sword.

“How is that different? What about me asking you yesterday? Also! Our teams are kind of allies right? Don’t you think it’s a good idea to help your ally?” Jimmy waves his sword around, making Scott be very vigilant of the situation he’s in.

“I understand that, but Pearl, Impulse and Cleo are the first people I allied with this season! Of course I am going to prioritize them! Plus if we’re like this then Pearl was my soulmate a couple of seasons back so!” Scott says that without thinking, realizing suddenly why this moment seemed familiar. 

He, for a moment sees a black leather jacket and a long bridge extending on both of their sides.

Jimmy furrows his eyebrows in confusion and anger saying: “What? Okay and? Also your soulmate wasn’t it Cleo?”

Scott finds himself dumbfounded. He steps back and sees Jimmy closing the distance, and as he does that Jimmy accidentally steps on a poppy when he swings his sword at Scott.

In that moment, something in Scott gets broken. His stomach feels like it's turning and his hands buckle into fists. A sword appears into Scott’s hand and he swings it to block the blow; he then redirects his sword near Jimmy’s neck.

“I’ll give you 30 seconds Jimmy, to get out of my sight before I kill you for good.” Scott looks coldly at Jimmy, his eyes beginning to glow, but not only that, multiple more seem to appear and open on his neck and arm, glowing alike.

Jimmy’s sword disappears into his inventory and he huffs as he turns around and walks up the stairs of his team’s mountain.

Scott’s hands tremble. He sighs, and writes a mental note to not visit the Bamboozlers anymore.

-----

So I thought Jimmy was yellow at the end of session 5- checked, and he is red, but well this is a silly drabble anyways!

I had to make a reference to Deal with Destiny in the title okay? Was it obvious? Was it not?

Hope you liked it! ^^

[gothic-soda]

BoTW Theory: The Champions were unarmed when the Blights attacked

Losing my mind I just realised this detail in BoTW and I had to share it. Maybe this has already been pointed out, but I wanted to dive into it. In Memory 15 “Return of Calamity Ganon,” none of the champions are shown with their weapons, except for Link.

See, no weapons.

And when Revali flies up to get a better look at the Calamity, we can see he doesn’t have his Great Eagle Bow.

The only one with a visible weapon is Link, who has the Master Sword.

We can assume that the champions headed straight to their divine beasts while Link and Zelda headed to the castle. Daruk clearly orders all of the champions to immediately head towards their Divine Beasts.

And really, if you think about it, the original plan was for the champions to strike Ganon with their Divine Beasts, they’d have no reason to think they’d need their weapons, because the Champions themselves were never meant to face off with Ganon directly.

Then there is also the fact that each Champion’s respective villages has kept their Champion’s weapons in a chest for 100 years after the Calamity. This is even though no one had set foot on any of the Divine Beasts in 100 years, so if the champions DID have their weapons on them during the battle, how would it be possible for each champion’s race to have their weapons in their possession? And they couldn’t have been retrieved after Link freed the Divine Beast, because Teba makes a comment that he is not strong enough to use the Great Eagle Bow without it slowing down his flight. I don’t exactly buy the idea that Teba, while injured, would have immediately tried the Great Eagle Bow the second Vah Medoh was freed. He most likely did so at some point before freeing the Divine Beast with Link.

We know from BoTW that each divine beasts has chests containing weapons that the champions could have potentially used to defend themselves, but they are all spread out throughout the divine beasts, so it certainly would have been difficult for them to get their hands on any weapons even when they did realise they were under attack.

The only weapons onboard each divine beast were:

Vah Medoh

5x Bomb Arrows

10x Ice Arrows

1x Knights Bow

Even the best archer in Hyrule (which Revali canonically was) would not be able to defeat Windblight with that.

Vah Naboris

1x Knights Bow

1x Knights Shield

The only thing Urbosa would be able to use here would be the shield, she’d still have her fury, sure, but that’s hardly a fair fight. And even if she knew how to use a bow (which there is no canonical basis that she does) there weren’t any arrows aboard Vah Naboris anyway.

Vah Ruta

10x Fire Arrows

10x Ice Arrows

1x Knights Halberd

The only weapon Mipha could even use here is the Knights Halberd. She’d have no use for arrows without a bow, and same thing with Urbosa, we have no idea if Mipha knows how to use a bow anyway. I should also mention that the halberd is in quite a difficult place to get to, right at the top of the Divine Beast. So this really wasn’t a fair fight for poor Mipha.

Vah Rudania

1x DragonBone Boko Club

2x Knights Bows

10x Arrows (in two separate chests, so 2 chests each with 5 arrows)

5x Ice Arrows

Nothing here would be particularly useful for Daruk. The Boko club is made out of wood, so it would catch on fire. And I don’t think Daruk would even be able to hold the Knights Bow, it would be too small for him even if he knew how to use a bow (which again, who knows if he does or doesn’t). Daruk seems to have to worst luck out of everyone.

And yeah maybe there were other weapons on the divine beasts that the champions did use, but my point is to illustrate that most of the weapons they had available to them were not ideal.

The sad part is that these chests were all unopened, so the champions likely didn’t even get a chance to defend themselves, they were taken completely by surprise.

It also puts into context that most of the champions make some kind of comment about their opponent fighting dirty, it literally wasn’t a fair fight.

[off-color-darkrai]

Spooky Fun fact for you:

Did you know that In Disney's "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" there are TWO headless horsemen? Brom Bones, obviously, and the real one.

Don't believe me? Check this out!

So when animating all the characters in Legend of Sleepy Hollow, the Disney team made sure to animate each individual character as either Right or Left handed specifically.

Ichabod is consistently Right handed throughout the entire picture.

While Katrina van Tassel is Consistently Left Handed.

There's only one point where Katrina is drawn Right Handed, when she is writing, but seeing as we are watching her hands as she does this, it's clear the animators chose to show her writing in a way so that it wouldn't obscure the words.

Everyone else is either right or left handed specifically.

All, that is, except Brom Bones, who is specifically drawn to be Ambidextrous.

From his first appearance he is punching open things with his left hand, and maneuvering things with his right. He tosses things with both arms, and handles knives with both hands.

In the Headless Horseman song he repeatedly switches arms in his demonstrations. He even switches pointing arms from the beginning of the song to the end.

Now let's look over at old HH.

The first time Ichabod encounters him is in the cemetery, and we get this excellent pan up and dramatic shot.

Note, the sword is in his right hand.

Also that is not a pumpkin.

Ichabod runs, and the Headless Horseman gives chase, the entire time his sword arm remains on his Right.

Part way through Ichabod loses the Horseman for a hot minute by falling down a short cliff.

He eventually gets back on the road, spots the bridge, only to get jump-scared by the Horseman lunging out of the woods in front of him.

Ichabod, of course, turns and runs again, and the Horseman gives chase again, but this time he's changing sword arms every other shot.

And once Ichabod reaches the bridge he lobs his Jack-o'-lantern using his left arm.

That is not at all what he was holding earlier.

Also, if I was attempting to throw something, and I intended it to hit, I would definitely use my dominant arm for that. You know, the one you also use as your sword arm?

Unless you're ambidextrous.

Just saying.

So with that all laid out, I want to throw out a couple more things that support this.

1) Ichabod is shown to be completely alone in the graveyard moments before the First Horseman shows up. He even looks at the entire thing multiple times before having a laughing fit with his horse. Additionally, it's so quiet that Ichabod's laughter is echoing off everything. The sound design actively changes so there's nothing but the echoing sound of his laughter. No music, nothing. You don't hear the Horseman until he laughs too, and by then he's right behind Ichabod.

2) The way they draw the object the Horseman is holding in his first appearance vs. At the bridge is completely different. I mentioned this above, but the first object is dark, barely lit, and almost Smaller than the Horseman's hand. That is a skull. The one at the bridge is a jack-o'-lantern, well lit, not even the same shape, massive, and spitting flames. Both are pretty intimidating, but why bother drawing two different ones? It can't be something only Ichabod sees either, because he definitely sees the pumpkin at the end, and again, it's shooting flames. Imagine it's a skull all you want, I doubt he'd downplay the supposed hellfire spewing out.

3) Ichabod falls down two cliff faces in the first part of the chase. The first one he goes down and the Horseman jumps the entire cliff to go after him, not even breaking his gallop. The second cliff however, the horseman doesn't even attempt to follow Ichabod, instead letting him get away for a good amount of time. The horseman was literally right next to Ichabod and chose not to follow him. Why? If there was only one horsemen (Brom) and you were Ok jumping a cliff to keep up the chase once, why break off the second time? Why bother possibly losing Ichabod to go the long way around just so you can jump-scare him in front of the bridge?

A flesh and blood horseman would have followed, but an actual spectre? No. Why?

Because the Bottom of that cliff crashes straight into running water.

Folklore of the time stated that things such as Spirits and the Unholy couldn't cross running water (hence why crossing the bridge meant safe haven). So an actual ghostly horseman would be physically incapable of following Ichabod down the second cliff (metaphysically speaking).

In Conclusion, Disney's "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is a lot spookier than you probably thought, and the animators really did an excellent job.

Thank you for coming to my T.E.D. talk.