#and if Rogue wasn’t sleeping the entire time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girlgenius1111 · 8 days ago

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learning curve

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] r gets custody of her 5 year old nephew when her brother gets into trouble. alexia insists on sticking around even though r gives her an out. it's a new and entirely stressful situation for r, but alexia makes it a bit easier. fluff, angst, etc. this is a kidfic.

—

How was it possible? That the most ordinary of days could be just one phone call away from shattering life as you knew it.

You should have known, really. Should have seen it coming. You were happy for the first time in a while. Happy in your career, in your relationship. Of course something would come along to change everything.

It was a pleasant day off, the day you got the call. A slow morning where Alexia woke up way before you, but didn’t get up. Instead, she let you sleep in her arms, completely content to just… be there with you. You’d made breakfast together, Alexia’s voice raspy from lack of use, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your face, your neck, as if she couldn’t help it. It was purely and entirely happy.

Your phone rang just after breakfast. It was an unknown number and you never answered unknown numbers but something about the call made your stomach drop. You clicked the answer button and gave Alexia an apologetic smile, walking out of the room.

“Hello?” You greeted, tapping your foot impatiently when no one said anything right away. Alexia had put on her favorite show, and as much as you pretended to despise the soap, you were hooked.

The robotic, pre-recorded message that began startled you.

“This call is from a person currently incarcerated in prison. All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.”

It wasn’t shocking, not really. You’d gotten calls like this before, but not for a few years. He used to call a lot, when he first started getting into trouble, asking for money for a lawyer. At the time, you hadn’t had any to give him. Eventually those specific calls stopped. You still heard from him, but not through a call being recorded by a prison.

He hadn’t been arrested in 5 years. And now… the stakes were much higher.

“Hello?” The deep voice of your brother came over the line, sounding utterly defeated.

“Leo.” You sighed. “What happened?”

“I fucked up. I… Will wanted to start football. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t pay for boots for him. I just wanted to get him something nice.” Leo choked out. You could hear the emotion in his voice, and ignored the pang in your chest as you pictured the little boy just two years older than you, lip trembling as he promised he’d take care of everything.

“Leo, why didn’t you call me? And ask for help?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re busy and I should be able to provide for my son. I shouldn’t have to ask my little sister for help, I should have it figured out.”

“So… this is better? Getting arrested for petty theft and then calling me for help?” You asked sarcastically, though you understood him more than you’d admit. The need to be independent, completely self sufficient. The sinking feeling you’d get when you had to ask for help with something… you still felt that, too.

Your brother was quiet for a moment. Long enough that dread started to build up inside of you again.

“It’s not petty theft.” He said finally. “It’s grand theft. And accessory to assault. The guy I was working with went a bit rogue.”

“Jesus.” You sighed. “How long?”

Another long silence.

“How long, Leo?”

“10-15 years.”

You could practically see the tears falling from his eyes in your head, and you knew just by his tone he wasn’t calling for money. Not this time. You could see Alexia out of the corner of your eye, hovering in the doorway uncertainly.

“I… I signed the papers, to give you custody of Will. To make it easier to take him back to Spain with you. He’d be yours, and I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other option, I would, but the only other option is putting him in the system, and I don’t want that for him. I don’t. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, really I–”

“It’s okay.” You breathed. “It’s alright. Of course, I’ll take him. Of course I will.”

Alexia moved closer, resting a hand on your shoulder once she noticed the tears in your eyes. You let her anchor you, suddenly very sure that this was it with her. Today had been the last nice day you’d have with her, and you hadn’t even known it.

But there wasn’t a question of whether you’d do it or not.

“Are you sure? With your career and–”

“I can make it work.” You said. “I’ll make it work.”

“Okay.” Leo replied, sounding overwhelmingly relieved. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I–”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.” You cut in, unwilling to hear another apology. It wouldn’t fix anything.

Leo gave you the name of the woman to call, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Even after the call ended, you remained frozen, thinking through all the details, all the things you needed to do, unsure where to start.

“Amor?”

Right. That’s where you had to start.

You turned to Alexia, your face completely impassive. It was the face you made when the team lost and you were upset, or when you got hurt and didn’t want to cry. It was you running from vulnerability, and it had been a long time since Alexia had seen you make it towards her. She’d thought you were past this.

“My brother was arrested. I’m getting custody of his son. Will. He’s 5. I’m going to bring him back to Spain with me.” You spoke robotically, eyes fixed on a point on the wall just beyond Alexia’s shoulder.

“Oh… oh wow.” Alexia breathed, nodding her head slowly as she took the information in.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of my old apartment. I’ll move my stuff when I get back, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll move back in there and–”

“Why would you do that?” Alexia interrupted, her face twisted with confusion. You looked at her for a moment, her brown roots growing out and the oversized t-shirt she had on. It was soft, your favorite for her to wear because you loved the way the fabric felt on your skin when she held you.

God this was hard.

“I… I won’t do this to you, Ale. I won’t. You don’t need this, but I have to–”

“No. Stop. We are not breaking up, and you are not moving out.”

You turned away from her when you saw the tears in her eyes, clenching your fists tightly and taking a few slow deep breaths. She was making this so hard, but you should have known she would.

“Alexia,” you began, your voice abruptly cutting off when the midfielder gently grabbed you by the shoulders and turned back towards her.

“No. No.” She repeated, shaking her head over and over. “Do you love me?”

You exhaled sharply, desperately wanting to wipe the tear off her cheek. To cradle her face in your hands, and kiss her frown away. You should lie, that would be the best choice. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

“I do, Ale. I love you so much. That’s why–”

“Then that’s it. You love me and I love you and people who love each other do not break up.” Alexia said firmly, her lip trembling even as she bit it to make it stop.

“Alexia, please. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this with me, I could never ask you to.”

“You are not asking. I am telling you. I am not going anywhere, and neither are you. You bring Will here and we’ll figure it out together. Together, amor.”

She moved closer, her hands cradling your cheeks, wiping your tears away just as you’d wanted to do with hers. Somehow, she was convincing you. Like she always did. Whenever it felt too unbelievable that she loved you, whenever you became absolutely convinced that you’d tricked her or something, and tried to leave for her. She always convinced you to stay, because she knew you never really wanted to leave her.

“It’s gonna be a lot.” You murmured, your hands finding their way to her waist, your body giving in before your brain did. “It’s gonna be really hard, especially with work.”

“We can do it. Together.” Alexia promised, leaning forward to dust a kiss across the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do it together, okay? Don’t push me out. Please.”

“Okay.” You allowed, finally giving in and leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around your body, squeezing so tight it almost hurt.

“Promise me? No pushing me away.” She whispered into your ear.

“I promise.” You breathed the words back, knowing, somehow, that you wouldn’t break this promise. Never before had you gone back on something you’d promised Alexia, and you didn’t intend to start now.

—

The plane ride had been long, and though you were already exhausted, you hadn’t slept a wink. You were wide awake when the plane took off, and wide awake when it landed hours later. Some sleep would have really done you some good, but there was nothing to do about that now.

It was really an amalgamation of all of your least favorite things. The social services office was just as bad as you remembered it. Just as… lonely, regardless of how incredibly crowded it was. It was overly beige, from the walls down to the outfit the woman sitting across from you was wearing. Susan. Even her name sounded beige. Then, there was the paperwork. An endless pile of it on the desk in front of you. Your hand was starting to cramp from signing, and all you wanted was to see Will. Physically see him, make sure he was okay. He was somewhere in this building, surrounded by strangers. It was impossible not to picture him, all small and scared in an office, wondering if you were really coming for him.

You remembered that feeling. No one had ever come for you and Leo.

But you were here for Will. You were here for him, and it didn’t matter too much that he barely knew you; at least, that's what you told yourself.

You were his aunt that lived far away in Spain, that sent at least three presents for his birthday every year, and three more for Christmas. You talked to him on the phone every so often, and Leo liked to send a picture of Will wearing your kit every few months. He liked dinosaurs and crafts, and he adored your brother. Will’s mom had never been in the picture; you’d never met her, never even gotten Leo to tell you her name. It was just the two of them, and you knew it was hard. You didn’t know it was this hard for your brother, though. You’d have stepped in much sooner if you’d known.

Signing the last piece of paper, you inhaled deeply and slid it back across the desk towards Susan.

“Okay! That’s everything in order. It would be a lot more complicated if your brother hadn’t signed over his rights. Great foresight of him, to have the paperwork all ready!”

Yeah. Great foresight. Leo clearly possessed that.

“I’ll go get Will! Like I said before, he’s been having a tough time, but the minute he arrived here he asked for you, telling us he was supposed to make sure that his Aunt came for him if anything ever happened to his Dad. I think he’ll settle once he finally sees you.”

Susan smiled kindly, stepping away from the desk and briskly walking down the hall.

The words settled something in you that worried Will wouldn’t want to go with you, while at the same time, making you so incredibly frustrated. Leo could make sure to prepare Will for this exact situation to occur, yet he couldn’t avoid committing felonies?

Before you could think too hard about what to say or do, there he was. Walking slowly down the hall next to Susan, a blue dinosaur clutched tightly to his chest. His brown hair fell messily around his head, in a way that reminded you of your brother. He was small, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts and a pair of velcro shoes. Small and scared, his face creased with anxiety and fear, even as he approached you.

“Here she is!” Susan said encouragingly, gently nudging Will closer when he came to a stop just in front of you. He was gazing up at you with wide, unsure eyes, and you could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. He was so small.

It was instinctual, something you didn’t even know you possessed that had you kneeling down and opening your arms. Will’s forehead un-creased just slightly, and he rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck.

“Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” You whispered, holding tightly to the little boy that was clinging onto you as if you were the last stable thing in the world. And you supposed you were; in his world at least.

Will exhaled shakily. For the first time in two whole days, he felt just a tiny bit safe. He didn’t know you well, granted, but his Daddy had always told him that if there was an emergency, to make sure to call you. He’d taught Will how to click your contact and call. Will hadn’t been sure you’d come. You lived far away, and he barely ever saw you. The two of you were strangers practically. But Leo had always told Will that you’d come for him if he needed you. And Leo had never broken a promise to Will before… Well not until the other day, he’d waited in the office at school for a whole hour after the bell rang. When someone came for him, it wasn’t his Dad. It was a police officer with a mustache and a mean face, and all Will could do was cry, and make sure that the police officer knew he had to call you. And though the details Will had been given were few, he knew his Dad had been bad and he was in trouble. Big trouble. The police officer had sounded all angry and stern when he’d told Will this, softening only slightly when Will asked when he’d get to see his Dad again.

The police officer hadn’t answered, instead telling Will that he was being taken to the social services office, where he’d wait to figure out what the next steps were.

Will had waited for you, and even though the nice lady had told him you were coming, it took a while. More than one day, but he couldn’t quite remember. It felt like forever.

But now you were here, and you’d given him a hug that felt like the hugs his Dad gave him, and he didn’t feel like he had to try to be brave anymore. Your arms didn’t loosen around him even as you stood up, and Will let himself relax. Just for a moment.

—

“We going to Spain?” Will wondered, gripping two of your fingers when you held out your hand towards him. He trotted along next to you as you headed from the social services building down the block to your hotel.

“Yeah. Barcelona.” You affirmed. Luckily, Will had been able to talk to Leo on the phone, and Leo told him what the plan was.

“Bar-sa-lonuh? Or Spain?”

“Barcelona is a city in Spain.” You clarified. “We’ll go there on a plane tomorrow morning.”

“Is it a big plane?”

“It’s a pretty big plane. Have you ever been on a plane before?”

Will shook his head, brown curls blowing backwards slightly in the wind.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll get snacks and… pick out a few movies to watch. And you can sleep if you want to.”

“Snacks and movies?” Will repeated.

“Yes! Does that sound fun?” You tried to sound excited even though there wasn’t really anything you were dreading more than the long flight with a five year old.

Will just shrugged, his hand tightening around your fingers. You shifted the strap of his big duffel bag so it was further up on your shoulder, stopping just outside the hotel and bending down so you were eye level with him.

“I know it’s a lot of change, Will. And I know you don’t know me very well but–”

“My Daddy said you’re nice. And that you’ll take good care of me.” Will whispered, tearing up as he remembered the phone call he’d gotten to have with his father this morning. Leo had called you right after, himself trying to hold it together as he explained he told Will that you were coming for him.

“I’m going to do my very best to take good care of you. We’re gonna figure it out together, alright?”

Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his eye with his fist. “Alright.”

You figured that was the best you’d get, for now.

—

“Tia?” Will whispered. You turned, finding him all tucked into one of the double beds, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was so small, the dinosaur pajamas he’d pulled out of his duffel bag a bit too big on him. ‘Dad said I’d grow into them if I ate my vegetables’, Will had said. Your brother was many things, and a good father was one of them. He was giving you a huge responsibility and huge shoes to fill.

Refocusing on Will and not how much he looked like your brother, you smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“What’s up, buddy?” You asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching and out brushing one of his curls away from his face. His whole body relaxed at the motion, and he looked a bit more confident as he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Do we have to go to Spain? We… we can’t stay here?”

Your heart twisted in your chest. You thought of your brother's words on the phone the past few days. He’d repeated it a few times, as if knowing the doubt you’d carry.

You can’t leave Spain. You have a career and a life there. Will speaks a bit of Spanish, and he’ll adjust. He needs to be with you, and you need to be where you’re going to be happy. That will be the best thing for him.

Leo spoke with a wisdom in his voice that used to infuriate you, but you’d decided to trust the big brother voice, this time. Because he was Will’s dad, and he knew what Will needed.

“We have to go to Spain.” You confirmed. Will frowned, an unhappy look on his face that tore at your emotions. “I know, it’s going to be an adjustment. But your Dad told me to take you there, and he always knows best, right?”

Will looked conflicted. “I like it here.”

“I know, I know you do.” You paused, thinking once again back to your brother's advice.

Talk to him like he’s a person, not a baby. He’s a smart kid, he’ll understand.

“I play football in Spain. It’s my job there, so that’s where we have to be for now. But you’ll like it, I promise. It’s warm and sunny and it has really good food. Alexia is there, and I know you’ll love her, and she’s so excited to meet you in person.”

Thankfully, Will had met Alexia over facetime before, and knew that you were together. You didn’t have to introduce the idea to him, as he’d somehow already seemed to know it wouldn’t just be the two of you when you arrived in Spain.

Will looked doubtful, and you could see the anxiety clearly written across his face. His features were so like Leo’s, and it was the same face your brother always had when he was nervous about something. The same face you had when you were nervous about something.

“Why don’t you ask me questions about Spain? And I’ll answer them, and then you’ll know more before we get there.”

Will was a talker, that much you knew. And so the questions began, about the food in Spain, about school in Spain, about the team you played for, and whether there were dinosaur toys there. Question after question, until you laid down on the bed next to him, eyes barely open.

“Do you live in a house in Spain?” Will asked, his energy still in full force as he asked what felt like the 500th question of the evening.

“An apartment, but you’ll have your own room.”

“And Alexia lives there?”

You nodded groggily.

“Does she speak Spanish?”

“She does, but she also speaks English.”

Will hummed. “My Dad was teaching me some Spanish for when we met Alexia. He said your tia taught you both Spanish and that's why I call you tia because that’s Spanish for aunt.”

At this, you cracked a smile, forcing your eyes open as you nodded. “That’s true. We lived with our tia for a while and she taught us Spanish.”

“Is it hard to learn? I’m not very good.” Will wondered, his questions seemingly endless.

“Mmm, not hard. You’ll pick it up quickly, especially at school and with Alexia helping you with it.”

“Is she nice?”

“She’s very nice.” You promised, eyes flying open when you realized you had a text from Alexia you hadn’t yet read or responded to. Will yawned hugely as you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket, and you smiled down at him again.

“Go to sleep, buddy. I can answer more questions tomorrow.”

With a small grunt of agreement and another yawn, he rolled over. Right into you, his head resting against your arm. It was indescribable, the soft feeling that filled your heart. Soft adoration, even as you stilled the left side of your body completely so as not to disturb him.

You didn’t know much about kids, but it seemed you knew enough. For now.

Finally, you opened Alexia’s text, tears pooling in your eyes as you read her words.

Amor! I hope everything is going well. You’re doing great already, I am sure of it. I stopped at the store and got a few things for Will. You said he likes dinosaurs, sí?I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hug you.

God, you couldn’t wait to see her. It wasn’t very odd for the two of you to spend a night apart, but something about this felt different. You missed her deeply, fully, needed her to hold you and promise everything was going to be okay. The anxiety of how this whole new life would work was almost overshadowed by your excitement to see her again.

Almost.

—

Will was a pretty well behaved kid, you’d learned. Very sleepy when he woke up in the morning, but he snapped right out of it when you asked him what he wanted to download to watch on the plane. He very eagerly selected three disney movies, and you realized with a pang to your chest that all three were movies you and your brother had grown up on.

All three were Leo’s favorites, if you remembered right.

And now they were Will’s.

Not being the biggest fan of crowds, the airport clearly made your nephew nervous. He fidgeted his little hands together, walking so close to you that he ran into you every time you stopped. His hand would dart out to grab onto the hem of your t-shirt whenever anyone got too close to him, and he almost cried when the security agent made him walk through the metal detector by himself.

You figured this made sense, that after his whole world had been turned upside down, of course he’d attached himself onto the most stable thing he could find. That happened to be you. It was just… odd. Something you weren’t used to. The checklist you’d made on your phone helped, reminding you to ask Will if he had to go to the bathroom, if he was hungry or thirsty, if he had any more questions about the plane. It was more than terrifying, honestly, that you were suddenly fully responsible for this small boy.

There was stress, of course. But there was also something so… incredibly different in the way Will pressed his face to the glass of the plane window, staring wide eyed as the plane took off. For every moment you worried you were messing up, even in the first 24 hours, there were 10 moments where Will rested his head against your shoulder or reached for your hand, or offered you one of his animal crackers with a smile that had you convinced that for your nephew, maybe you could do this.

—

“I can walk, Tia.” Will mumbled, squirming slightly in your arms.

You chuckled, rubbing his back softly. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s crowded and I know that makes you nervous.”

You’d picked him up a moment ago, after noticing how terrified he looked at the massive crowds making their way through the airport. It was a struggle to wrangle both of your bags in one hand, while holding Will in the other, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You took two steps towards the exit before you had to stop and readjust, wishing you had another pair of hands here to help.

Alexia had texted that she was there, and though you’d assumed that meant she was outside in her car, your eyes met hers across the bustling baggage claim before you had to take another step.

Your whole body practically sagged with relief, your bags falling to the ground where you stood as Alexia made her way over to you both, a concerned and sympathetic smile on her face.

“Mi amor,” she greeted, softly kissing your temple and pulling you into as much of a hug as she could manage with Will still in your arms.

“Hi.” You choked out, almost in tears at the sight of her. Here, in front of you, at the perfect time. With a smile on her face, already reaching for your bags.

“Hi, Will.” She said gently.

Will peaked out from where his face had become hidden in your neck, relaxing a bit when he saw the semi familiar face.

“Hi.” He whispered back, turning his face back in towards you and shutting his eyes.

“He’s tired.” You explained, but Alexia just waved you off, beginning to lead you from the airport to the parking garage. It was much easier now that you only had to worry about carrying Will, who was quickly becoming dead weight in your arms as he drifted off.

“Of course he is, it has been a long few days. I bet you’re exhausted too. We can go home and go right to sleep, sí? We can worry about anything else tomorrow.”

You nodded your agreement, not even wanting to contemplate the state of your to do list at the moment, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

As you arrived at the car, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the car seat perfectly installed in the back of Alexia’s car. You’d mentioned needing one to her, but for some reason… you half expected her to forget. Or get the wrong one. You weren’t sure why, but it was just something that you thought you’d have to do.

Yet when you opened the door to the back seat, it was all done for you. The perfect size for Will, buckled in correctly and everything. You carefully deposited him in the seat and buckled him in, before turning to Alexia, once again with tears in your eyes.

“Thank you for getting that.” You mumbled, shutting the car door as quietly as you could.

“Of course.” Alexia said easily, her lips curving into a smile as she opened her arms for you. You practically collapsed into them, gripping tight to your girlfriend as she did the same to you.

“I missed you so much.” You cried.

“I missed you too, mi amor. You have no idea.” Alexia whispered back, her hand threading through your hair as she just held you for a moment. Eventually she leaned down to press her lips to yours. You kissed her back, taking in the feel of her hands as they cupped your jaw, her fading blonde hair tickling the side of your face.

When you pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing at you so lovingly it made your heart burst.

“Let’s get you both home.” She suggested, and you nodded your agreement, needing nothing more than to be home in that moment.

—

The relief you felt when you finally stepped back into your apartment wasn’t complete relief. Because you were home, but everything was different. There was a whole other person that had to fit into your life now, and you didn’t even know where to begin carving out a space for him. There was figuring out a school that could accommodate a five year old that spoke very little Spanish. Then there was finding childcare for when training didn’t perfectly align with school, or when the team was traveling. Would you bring Will with for away games?

The issues you needed to address were seemingly endless, but most urgently was that the extra bedroom was not fit for a child. It had a double bed, which would work for now, but didn’t leave much room for anything else. What did a kid even need in his bedroom?

Toys, of course.

Books.

A desk?

A dresser? Or would the closet be enough?

God he would need more clothes.

And food that he'd like to eat.

And shampoo and conditioner for kids. Those were different from adult hair products, right?

That was most urgent, you decided. Making your home a home for him.

“We should go shopping tomorrow.” You murmured, shifting Will in your arms a bit as you headed for the guest bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in the car and it was night, so it made sense for him to keep sleeping.

What time did kids his age go to bed? 7? 8? You had no idea. Another question to answer.

With a gentle hand on your back guiding you down the hall, Alexia hummed in agreement, but you missed the small smile on her face. “I bought a few things.” She reminded you.

Your assumption was that a few things were a pair of pajamas, a new toy. A book, maybe? But when Alexia stepped around you to push the bedroom door open, your jaw dropped.

A few things, apparently, was an entirely redecorated room. A beautifully redecorated room. The walls were no longer white; instead they were painted a soft green. A wooden twin bed sat in the corner, a green canopy hanging the tall headboard and footboard. The bed was covered in a green comforter, a soft throw blanket, and 4 different pillows. A long shelf sat just under the large window, filled with toys and books. There was a separate toy box next to the bookshelf, overflowing with even more toys; cars and books and dolls and stuffed animals. Everything. Wall decor, a rug, a dresser, a cozy chair in the corner next to a lamp.

Alexia had thought of everything. And if you’d had any doubts about her dedication to this, to you, to Will, you no longer did. Alexia had done what you’d been too preoccupied to think of and made Will a space that was entirely his own, a place he could feel safe and comforted. She’d made your home his home without a second thought.

Without a word, you walked further into the room, choking back a sob as you laid a still sleeping Will down carefully on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, snuggling close to the soft pillows as you draped the throw blanket over him.

When you finally turned back towards your girlfriend, she was hovering in the doorway, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at you worriedly.

“Too much?” She whispered.

You barely held back the scoff that would have been much too loud, crossing the room quickly and throwing your arms around her.

“No. Perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.” You mumbled into her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin you found there. Alexia tightened her hold, walking the two of you backwards and out the door so you didn’t wake Will.

“Are you crying?” Alexia asked, her thumb tracing across your cheek bone as she leaned back from your embrace.

You sniffled pathetically, leaning back in to press your forehead to Alexia’s chest and steady yourself.

“I was just so overwhelmed and you did this and it’s perfect Ale. Thank you. Thank you.”

Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly.

“You don’t have to thank me. I promised, no? I’m here. We are doing this together.”

“I love you.” You cried, overwhelmed with love and wonder at what an incredible person your girlfriend was. You’d already known, but she always found a way to surprise you, doing something so absurdly kind and thoughtful that you were struck all over again with how good she was.

“I love you too.” Alexia replied, swaying the two of you back and forth gently.

There were still a lot of unknowns. A lot of problems to solve and things to figure out. But you’d never been more sure that you could do it. It wasn’t ideal, but you had Alexia and that was certainly ideal.

—

JUST finished this so PLEASE tell me if you catch a typo also planning more parts to this but i'm VERY open to ideas if you have them :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #kid fic

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crossingthedreams · 2 months ago

Text

growing pains — aemond targaryen x niece!reader

a/n: i know i’m late. shit happens. i’m having so much fun with this writing challenge that the lateness isn’t even bothering me anymore, lol. here’s day 08 — growing pains. of course i had to keep it in the family for this one (got it? hehehehehe)

a/n 2: hey! just posted day 10 - humiliation, which can be read as a prequel to this. check it out!

summary: the daughter of the Realm’s Delight and the Rogue Prince was a valuable trade coin. amidst the chaos, and fortunately for her, there was one who saw her as a person and not a merchandise.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: angst. targaryen incest (uncle/niece). mentions of death. slight ooc!aemond.

As a little kid in the Red Keep, you were under the constant eye of your mother’s step-mother. Your parents were always coming and going, and your siblings were all boys, who had the privileges that came with it. Your uncles and aunt were most often than not more than willing to ignore you, as well as your grandfather, the King.

Your uncle Daeron was sent away when you were very young, which was very painful, as he was very kind. The only one out of your entire extended family who could be considered as such.

From then on, with two grown sons and one far away, the Queen seemed to have more time with you. She always praised your silver hair, saying it differed you from your older brothers.

You weren’t even a woman, hadn’t even bled yet, when Aegon made his first pass on you. He was to be married to his younger sister, the Princess Helaena, and he knew very well your father, the Rogue Prince, would gut him if he ever laid a finger on you. Still, he made his remarks and made sure it was known throughout the Keep that he could have you any time he chose to.

Your mother spent most of her time in Dragonstone with your older brothers, sisters and father, and you got news from a raven that she was with child once more. Joyous news, of course.

However, even in happiness, you still felt a little left out. With the Blacks, you were the distant sister, kept away by the politics of it all. With the Greens, you were the first trueborn child of an heir who would never be, your legacy tarnished by the constant discussions of your brothers’ legitimacy.

Your Uncle, the Prince Aemond, was a constant in your life. Ever since birth, the two of you were always in each others’ camp of vision. Sometimes a bully, sometimes an enemy, sometimes a friendly face in tedious functions, Aemond was always there. You had danced with each other a million times in events, not only in King’s Landing, but all throughout Westeros.

As the second son of the King and the first daughter of the Princess, you both were disposable enough to be sent wherever the Crown needed an appearance, but the royal family wouldn’t be able to attend in its entirety.

He wasn’t always a dragonrider, much like yourself. You only claimed a dragon as an adolescent, and he made sure you knew how proud he was.

The Cannibal, your dragon. Never before mounted, always thought to be a wild, untameable beast.

You proved them all wrong, and when you did it, their faces showed nothing but horror, except for Aemond.

Aemond was there, and Aemond was proud.

It was the dead of night in King’s Landing, but you couldn’t sleep. It was when you heard the muffling and quiet running of servants from outside your door.

You knew you were in danger before anyone walked in, even though the reason was unclear to you.

You changed out of your nightgown and hid a small dagger in your clothing. Something was coming, of that you were sure, and you wouldn’t stick around to find out. Women, even royalty, only had two fates in a crisis: death or marriage. You refused both.

You didn’t fear for your life as much as you did for the second option. No one was insane enough to put a child of the Princess to the sword.

It was then and there you knew you had to go to your parents, in Dragonstone.

Aegon was married already, but there was nothing stopping him from taking a second wife to strengthen his claim. Queen Alicent was arduous when she needed be, and you had no doubt she would whore you out in order to protect her own children.

Your uncle Aemond loved you, of that you were sure. He would marry you gladly and he would make sure you were happy. When you were younger, the thought made your stomach fill with butterflies. You didn’t need the Iron Throne, you were more than content with your beautiful uncle, who rode the largest dragon and was educated enough to carry a conversation for hours.

Even with his quarrel with your siblings, he saw you as a valuable member of the family. The main reason for that, you now understood, was because your allegiance was questionable. You were loyal to your parents, but you were also living with the Queen Alicent and her children.

In your mind, all the family bickering and fighting could have been solved if Jace and Helaena were to wed each other, but the Queen refused, of course. A marriage between you and Jacaerys would’ve been the second option, and it probably would’ve happened, if Luke’s claim to Driftmark wasn’t so controversial. There was no doubt as to your heritage, silver hair and lilac eyes. You were the spitting image of your parents, and a perfect Targaryen Princess.

Such were the growing pains of life. The nostalgia and longing for better days, even though the days past were just as tumultuous. Above all, you missed the innocence you lost.

You looked around your room, and it pained you to realize there was nothing to take but yourself.

There was a secret passageway in the backs of your room that would either take you to the Small Council or outside. Leaving now seemed like the only sane option.

As you made your way very quietly down the spiral stairs, you couldn’t help but wonder what your life would've been like if your mother and her stepmother had simply gotten along. Maybe you would not be fleeting King’s Landing in the middle of the night like a criminal.

It was then that you felt an arm involve you, paralyzing you, and a hand fly up to your mouth to keep you quiet. You began to react, but the soothing shh made you calm down. You recognized that voice, and you knew who you’d see even before you turned around.

Aemond was hiding beneath a cloak, much like yourself. He looked around to make sure the two of you were alone, even though you were in a deserted, secret, ancient passeaway.

“Uncle…”, you wanted to be honest and simply ask him what was the matter, but you had to play your cards right.

“Rȳbagon naejot issa (Listen to me)”. Your parents made sure you were fluent in Valyrian even before you fully understood the common tongue, and you were thankful for that. On the rare occasions you and Aemond spoke High Valyrian to one another, it was because something very funny or very important was happening. Now, you doubted it was the first.

Aemond’s one eye had so many emotions in them you couldn’t focus on one alone, and his hand still held your arm tightly. You had no idea what he was about to tell you.

“Gūrogon aōha zaldrīzes se jikagon. Se dārys iksos morghe, Aegon jāhor sagon vēttan dārys sir se ao issi nykeā trade gelebo hae se tala hen Rhaenyra. ȳdra daor sōvegon se route naejot zaldrīzesdōron, jikagon naejot Dorne nykeā naejot se Arryn's. Aōha kepa jāhor ao adhirikydho. (Take your dragon and go. The King is dead, Aegon will be made King now and you are a valuable trade coin as the daughter of Rhaenyra. Don't fly the usual route to Dragonstone, go to Dorne or to the Arryn's. Your father will surely find you quickly)”, he spoke quietly, but intensely.

“Why are you telling me this, Uncle?”, the frown was inevitable. Aemond had too many reasons to take you back, kicking and screaming, and present you to his mother. He was never kind, and this made no sense other than he was trying to lure you into a trap.

For the first time in your life, you looked at Aemond and saw exhaustion.

“Nyke bē ao daor naejot gūrogon aōha hen ao (I care about you enough not to take your choices from you)”, he said, not looking directly at your eyes.

Years ago, you would have believed him in a heartbeat. He had just said the most perfect words a prince could ever say. Now, a woman grown, you didn’t fully believe it, even though your heart wanted to, desperately.

You approached him, and your hand met his, that was still on your arm. The other cupped his cheek, making him look at you as you firmly said, “Gūrogon issa naejot se shores, mazverdagon issa aōha ābrazȳrys. Vīlībāzma hen iksos jāhor mōris istin īlon dīnagon īlva ēlī āzma tala naejot Jaehaerys (Take me to the shores, make me your wife. Whatever war of succession is happening will end once we marry our first born daughter to Jaehaerys)”.

You didn’t know how much your words resembled your mother’s. You would never know just how much it affected Aemond, making his manhood twitch with the thought of spilling in you and seeing your body grow with a little Targaryen princeling.

In another life, maybe, Aemond made you his. But now, as he well knew, the two of you had dance the dance to the choreography that was made for you.

He could still steal one moment, as all this was already borrowed time. Just one more.

So, he pulled you by your waist, closer to him, and pressed his lips to yours. First, your eyes widened, and then closed. You melted in his arms, and you kissed him back. The good feeling lasted only for a second before he was pushing you away.

“Jikagon se ȳdra daor jurnegon arlī (Go quietly and don't look back)”.

He was already turning back and motioning for you to go, leaving behind not only him, but the life you made for yourself, quietly. It broke your heart, but you knew where your loyalty lied: with your mother, the only heir to the now late King Viserys. Soon, you’d be back at the Red Keep, and hopefully Aemond would be forgiven. Hopefully, the two of you could pick up where you left off.

Even with hope still in your heart, you knew the truth. You knew Aemond was just a memory now, even if you could still listen to his footsteps. You were older, wiser, and it ached, but such were the growing pains in life.

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littlejuicebox · 11 months ago

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My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

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and-so-he-rambled · 6 months ago

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Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters Part two

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

The first night was the worst. Vlad broke into an empty old house without much difficulty, observing the layer of dust over everything and the lack of cameras or security beyond an old system he easily dismantled.

The kids were weary, plodding along and knuckling their eyes as they tried to stay awake and alert. Jazz had a hand on Danny the way she always did when Vlad wasn’t carrying him, refusing to let him go far from her.

She tightened her grip as a sleepy Danny began to sink into the floor, Vlad diving forward to scoop the child up. He returned to a solid state, still not in control of his powers. They’d had a few teaching sessions since Danny came into his care, but they hadn’t been far along when they’d had to flee. The stress and sleep deprivation wasn’t helping the boys already frayed control of his powers. Even Vlad, a Self proclaimed master of his curse, found himself phasing accidentally.

He led the two to the first empty bedroom and laid them both down, Jazz curling around Daniel protectively.

“Sleep Jazz, I’ll stand guard.” He shifted to his ghost form, Jazz eyeing him warily the way she always did before nodding and closing her eyes. He knew she would try to stay awake anyway, but was confident she’d lose the battle soon.

The ghost inspected his wound, frowning at the black lines spreading out from the hole in his upper arm. That wasn’t good.

He’d tested various of the Fentons and his old designs on himself when researching what he’d become, and none had this effect.

The ghost sent a copy to explore the house, sitting guard next to the bed and assuring himself that a ghost didn’t need sleep. Sure, he’d feel in like a truck when he switched back, but right now he was too dead to be tired.

The kids looked much better after a bath and a meal. He didn’t dare use the electricity until he knew where the bill would end up, or he could hack in and reroute that bill to get lost or paid under the table. For now he just heated a pot of spaghetti-Os over his flaming fist.

Danny had found a young boys room, mostly devoid of life but having a few toys he latched on to. He played and seemed like a normal boy if not for the flying around the house, kicking off of walls and tumbling through the air with a giggle as Jazz tried to wrangle him. they still had dark circles under their eyes and a haunted air, but they looked like kids again.

He left Jazz in charge when Danny went down for a nap, flying from the mansion invisibly before touching down behind a building and coming back into view. It was easy to slip into the crowd, injured arm held protectively to his chest as he weaved around people who semis just as soulless and dead as he was.

The shelters were a mess, and many of the food banks seemed overworked and shady. He snuck in through the back and stole two portions for the kids, storing them inside himself as he continued scoping out Gotham. It was a shit hole, but he could feel the ambience of death that clung to him like a second skin and hid him from prying eyes.

He went back as it started to grow dark, a bag full of broken electronics on his back.

As the kids scarfed down their food, once it was sufficiently pulverized, he began to disassemble and work on the tech. He needed a way to stay in contact with Jazz that couldn’t be tracked or hacked, and would likely give one to Danny once he was a little older.

Jack had been better with tinkering, despite being an utter buffoon otherwise. Vlad couldn’t help but think of him and Maddie the entire time he tinkered, hands feeling guided by theirs.

It took him a few days to finish them in between trips to Gotham to steal food and entertainment for the kids who were definitely feeling cooped up. They had new clothes now, stolen from a thrift store as to not stand out. He hated to see his charges in rags, but this city was a dangerous place to stand out. They had to hide until Vlad was more prepared.

He knew he couldn’t keep them locked inside the mansion forever, and he needed to do some research. He wanted to steal a laptop, but he’d need to find a place with Wi-Fi to hunker down.

He made a decision as Jazz did her nightly lesson of trying to teach her little brother how to shoot straight, they needed a chance to be children.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #danny masters #jazz fenton #vlad masters redemption #Vlad Masters #vlad plasmius #Gotham rogue Vlad Masters #bruce wayne x vlad masters #dad vlad #dp x dc #dpxdc

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 7 months ago

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V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car.

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat?

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium.

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day.

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were.

And Danny hated how easy they had it.

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay.

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood.

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack.

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here.

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it.

Corrupt bastards.

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.”

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right?

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes.

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones.

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number.

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham.

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly.

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood.

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response.

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.”

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick.

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked.

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily.

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him.

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point.

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.”

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door.

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged.

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #constantine jr au #c: danny fenton #c: nightwing #c: tim drake #c: alfred pennyworth #c: bruce wayne #c: jason todd #fictag dgvg

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bg-brainrot · 8 months ago

Text

The Night They Slept Together

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep)

Tags: 2nd person POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pining, light hurt and angst, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, coping with feelings, act 2, pre-confession

A/N: some light angst as Tav comes to term with their feelings but we already know where they end up, so it's okay, right? :D

Word count: ~2.1k

Your tryst with Astarion should be over by now.

It was supposed to be a one off moment of passion, a way to destress after all of the danger you’d thrown yourselves into. He’d asked so easily, you’d agreed just as readily– a quick celebratory moment after defeating that goblin camp, when your spirits and libido were running high.

The second time? Well, that was easy to write off as well. You’d just fought off an entire creche, moving through it like a pair of practiced assassins, a synchrony you haven’t felt since– well, you’re not certainly you’ve ever felt so in sync with someone. Either way, it was another easy nod to his sly, questioning look.

You’d had similar excuses for your first night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, for the handful of midday, afternoon, midnight romps since.

It’s just a way for us to cope with the situation at hand, nothing more, nothing less, you’d told yourself.

That is, until you’d realized that it wasn’t just that. Not to you.

Oh gods, I love this insane vampire.

The night you’d realized that everything had changed.

What had begun as a distraction for you both, had turned into a poison– one slowly working its way through your system, incapacitating you piece by piece at the thought of another night falling into his arms, sinking deeper into the throes of an impossible love.

After all, what is this other than convenient? And if you continued to be a mere convenience to him, well, you doubt that this would end well for you. It’s high time that you cut off the source of this poison before it festers too far. Before it grips your vulnerable, aching heart.

That’s what you’d told yourself, but you’re finding it so much harder to cut off the source when he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you with a smirk toying along the edge of his mouth, an eyebrow raising suggestively as his voice lowers to a sultry invitation.

You’d come by his tent to say goodnight. Maybe, ‘Good job today.’ Any excuse to see him really, but now you’re met with a challenge.

Astarion’s words don’t make it much easier either.

“Oh my dear, you look positively wound-up after today’s bouts. Care for a little… unwinding?”

His voice drips with promise, with want, with a feeling that echoes through your own traitorous core. But, like a sweet that’s overstayed its welcome, it seems too tacky, hardening into something utterly indigestible.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, eying him carefully, fighting down your own building desires.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” he asks, a raised brow lowering in uncertainty.

You hesitate, unsure how much truth you’re willing to part with. Certainly not, ‘Because I may have accidentally fallen in love with you.’ And you don’t want to shove him out of your life unceremoniously either. Just… to slow down, allow your heart time to adjust– to get over him, if need be.

After a pause that goes on for a second too long, you finally settle on, “It just seems as if we’ve already had plenty of ‘fun’, don’t you think?”

Astarion’s small smirk drops, a dark look entering his eyes as he registers your words, how they directly counter his own from your first night together. How they fall between you with the full weight of rejection. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy now, darling?” he says, voice a bit sharper than what you’re used to.

You’d known that trying to slow down wouldn’t be easy, but his downturned lips make you want to take back your words, dive back into the intoxicating miasma of his cold embrace. But you also know that if you don’t stand your ground now, you’re liable to fall too far too fast.

“Not shy per say,” you respond, measuring your words carefully. “Merely wondering if that’s what you want.”

Astarion seems no more placated by these words than your earlier ones. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want this?”

Fear born of your heart, insecurity born of your nerves, damned logic born of your head– there are really so many reasons he wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you. But you don’t want to be too transparent, not when this adventure could all be over very soon. You say as much.

“Well, our days could be numbered.” Then your lips continue. “Perhaps there is someone else you would rather be unwinding?” The question slips out of you, an unbidden, unwelcome concern courtesy of the fear building in your chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, response quick, tone biting. His lips are pressed in a tight line, the muscles in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.

Gods, you’d known your heart would lead you astray. Here you are, facing an Astarion unlike any that had made a home in your bedroll. An Astarion made of sharp edges and cutting words. Expression closed, mouth a tight line, you find his change in demeanor aggravating. You bristle at his accusation. “No, Astarion. I don’t want that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, speaking with you. Though you’re making me regret doing that much now.”

He tilts back at your words, leaning back on the heels of his feet as if thrown off balance. “Then why did you even come over? To reject me then to–to taunt me?”

You had meant to do none of that. Really, you’d only come over out of habit, to see him, to… spend time with him. But it’s hard to say so without being entirely too forthcoming with your feelings. You wish that you could put your feelings into words, however it’s your burden to bear, not his. He has more than enough on his plate between the Absolute and Raphael’s deal.

So you shake your head at him. “I didn’t mean to reject you, Astarion. I hadn’t come here for sex at all.”

Once more, he asks the question you do not want to answer. “Then why did you even come over?”

You could lie. It’s as easy as breathing for you– it’s how you and Astarion had grown so close so quickly. You should lie, you tell yourself. But one look into his crimson, pleading eyes and the lie dies on your lips.

He looks hurt. So genuinely confused at your presence in front of him, deeply convinced that you could only be here for one thing and one thing only. And you know then that you can’t lie.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, the honest words tightening your throat on their way out, You haven’t told him how you feel, but you may as well have, with the way the words sound utterly, sinfully soft, a secret lost on the cold wind of the Shadow-Cursed night.

“You… wanted to see me?” he repeats, tone losing all of its edge, losing any of its structure at all.

You nod silently, uncertain if more words would help or hurt the situation.

To that, Astarion only blinks. His mouth opens, head tilting in that cautiously inquisitorial way, as he asks, “And then what?”

There was no ‘and then’ in your mind. Merely the need to see him, spend time with him, even after spending an entire dark, dreary day with him. But you suppose he wouldn’t understand that if you said it. So you need to come up with something concrete, a reason to be here beyond words…

“I was wondering if you wanted to share a bedroll tonight. To sleep,” you say, infusing enough confidence in your words that you can hardly note the nerves. You expect Astarion wouldn’t notice them at all.

His defenses noticeably drop, his shoulders sagging in relief, and a sigh escapes him as he shakes his head at you wryly. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, darling? I understand that not everyone has my stamina, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to roll your eyes, defend your honor as it hangs on by a thread, but you’ve narrowly avoided disaster and you’re not proud enough to ruin that. Instead you play into the role, ignoring the dull twinge that twists through your heart. “I wasn’t sure you would be so magnanimous,” you say, giving him the slightest bow of your head. “I should have known.”

“That you should have,” he says with a breathy laugh and he sounds almost… relieved?

More than anything, you want to ask him, why? Are you relieved that my feelings have stayed silent? That this thing between us remains uncomplicated? That you don’t have to find yourself a new distraction?

But your questions stay just as buried as your feelings do.

Your damnable feelings, which seem to threaten to burst out each time his eyes linger too long, with every touch you weren’t expecting. It must be a talent, holding them in as you do now.

They stay hidden as he extends a hand to you, inviting you into his tent with a warm smile and a, “Shall we?”

You keep them dormant as you follow, tucking your head into the now-familiar red structure, narrowly avoiding the mess he’s left inside.

They almost slip to the surface as he pulls you down onto his lap, and a heat rises between you as natural as steam from a hot spring.

It’s an invitation, of course. One last effort from Astarion for something more tonight, for you to be won over by his beauty and charm. But there’s nothing to be won over because you are already his.

You wish he could tell, from your drunken declarations, from the way you’ve made a second home in his arms. Maybe he can tell, but refuses to acknowledge it– you could hardly blame him if that were to be the case. But you also can’t blame yourself for barely holding back.

Even now, seated in his lap, staring into his mesmerizing red eyes, you’re not certain you could trust a single word that comes out of your lips. So you throw every word you’ve ever known, could ever know, to the wayside. And simply kiss him.

You press your lips to his slowly, contact feather-light as you balance on his thighs. Bracing yourself with a hand on his chest, you lean in, locking your lips together fully.

They move together easily, dance partners on a familiar dance floor, to a practiced tune, but when you think of all of the things you wish you could say, an urgency rises in you– a deep-seated need to tell him how you feel, even if only through this.

So you kiss him harder, your hands holding him all the tighter. You kiss him with every word unspoken, every intangible feeling rising in your chest, every single ounce of you that he’s already won, if only he were willing to claim it.

Astarion moves to deepen the kiss, placing a hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back, not understanding where your desperation comes from. Misunderstanding your intent altogether.

Of course, what was I thinking? you wonder to yourself as you pull away, panting lightly. That some magical kiss could make this man realize my feelings, could make him love me back?

But you’re not in some copper novel. This man harbors no hidden feelings for you. Only a deep need to lose himself, and you happen to be the person he’s chosen to do that with.

So, despite the confusion in his face, you crawl off of his lap. Despite the way his hand trails along your side as you lay down, you don’t get back up. You merely say, “It’s getting late, we should get some rest.”

Astarion murmurs his agreement, but you can hear the reluctance in his tone, see the bewildered expression on his face as he lies down, all of his clothing still covering his body.

You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, how unnerved he is, how deeply your chest aches– gods, this didn’t go well at all. But you don’t laugh. Only a sigh escapes you as you wrap your arms around him, as you press your body to his with all of the affection you cannot contain.

His arms stumble, they falter, but they find their way around you as well. An awkward embrace from a man who has no clue how he’s arrived at this point.

It’s difficult at a moment like this to remember that you shouldn’t love this man. That there are a dozen reasons to tamp down your feelings, a dozen more to run away. This was never supposed to be more than a single night of fun.

But, face tucked into the crook of his neck, hands clutching his loose shirt, nose filled with his carefully curated scent– you can almost pretend that this is real.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #spawn astarion #hurt comfort #lightly angsty #mainly pining

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pheonixgrave · 1 year ago

Text

Try Me (18+)

Since people seemed to dig my last one, heres another AstarionxTav fic!!

Warnings: Smut with feeling, shy Tav, first times, corruption, mildly sex repulsed Astarion, smut because that's how I cope

Rest was desperately needed. They were all exhausted. The day's activities had left them dirty, spent, and bloodied. They even set up their tents in silence, silently trudging along. Tav laid out her bedroll, barely managing to shrug off her leather armour before collapsing face first onto her pillow. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Astarion feed off her the night before. It always took a lot out of her but nothing a good night's rest couldn’t fix. Besides, it does feel rather good. Well, in the moment at least. It might not be the romance she always dreamed about but it was…nice.

He wasn’t exactly nice. But he took care of her. They were both new to this. And after having the conversation about “wanting this to be real,” they had been taking their time. A kiss goodnight here. Soft whispers about ‘later’ there. Tav wouldn’t lie, she missed him. She missed being wrapped around him. She missed the magic in his fingers. She groaned and turned on her side. Being patient is the worst. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. Her body was in desperate need of some kind of release.

But out here? She had to sit and wait until everyone else went to sleep before even thinking about anything like that. She pulled her blanket over her shoulders and tried to rest with her mind focusing squarely on the vampire spawn and his, how did he say it? Full portfolio?

Astarion watched the elf from a distance. He sighed before heading into his tent. He wasn’t used to taking things slow. Hells, he wasn’t even sure what slow meant. He only knew she wasn’t a target. He didn’t have it in him to use her. And now? Now he was scared. Scared of what might happen. Scared of the tadpoles. Scared of what happens after. This feeling, this fear of losing her scared him almost as much as the idea of Cazador did. Regardless, he asked to slow things down. To not just be a sexual relationship. To be something more.

But Gods, he missed her.

Tav seemed okay with a gentle touch here and again. But it wasn’t as satisfying as having her tighten around him. He sighed, realizing how quickly his mind turned to more unbecoming thoughts. But that’s who he is, right? A creature of hedonistic pleasure. Might as well make himself comfortable.

It didn’t take long for everyone else to fall asleep. Tav quietly undid the knots in her trousers before snaking her hand southward. She’s never done this before. She hadn’t really known what felt good until Astarion showed her. Before the nautiloid, she had been in her ivory tower for so long that she’d never had a chance to be seen in such a way. Her fingers were inexperienced and clumsy. Sure, it felt nice. But no matter how gently she circled her clit, it didn’t get her anywhere. All she felt was more frustration. And the more frustrated she got, the less nice it felt.

“By the Gods above,” she muttered before fixing her trousers and sitting up. It pained her that the solution to her problem was less than a few meters away. With a newfound resolve-and not knowing entirely what she was going to do when she got there-she marched her way towards Astarion’s tent. Once she reached the opening, she froze. Didn’t he say he wanted to take things slow? What in the Hells is she doing here? So he could get her off? Gods, maybe she wasn’t cut out for this.

In the midst of her overthinking, the rogue inside heard her shifting on her feet. He had already cleaned up. The tension in his shoulders wasn’t nearly as bad and the feelings of self hatred were only minimal this time. Truly a win for him. He got out of his bedroll to see what brought her here.

The moment they made eye contact, he could see she was near tears. “Darling?” He didn’t know if he should reach for her or brush her off. “Whatever is the matter?”

Tav looked at the ground, “I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?” She didn’t flinch at the harshness of his words. She was, after all, in the wrong.

“May I come in?” She wasn’t making eye contact and her hands were in front of her. Astarion wasn’t sure if he had ever seen her like this before. She was confident, cocky even. But this? This wasn’t like anything he had seen from her before. She sounded so…small.

“O-of course,” he stuttered, ushering her inside.

She walked in, quickly but somehow still dragging her feet. Once inside, she stood on the opposite side of the tent, quickly pacing back and forth. “Astarion,” her voice was calmer than her actions, “I’ve never-we haven’t…” She sighed before standing still to face him.

“Darling? You’re acting rather odd at the moment. Is everything all right?”

“No!” She gasped out, “I mean, everything is never fine what with everything else going on. But it is fine at the current moment.”

“Then why are you running about like a lunatic?” The vampire spawn was more concerned now, The tension in his back had returned. Had someone hurt her?

She sighed, “Let me start over.”

“By all means,” he gestured towards her.

“You’ve told me quite a bit about your history. Because of that, you thought it best to take things easy. Courting essentially.” A pit of dread filled his stomach. This is where she tells him it’s over. This is where she tells him she wants nothing to do with him because of it. “And I am enjoying it! Do not, for a moment, think that I am not loving every second of it. But when we started, it was just us rolling around in the grass, right?” He nodded, praying to whomever was listening that this wasn’t going where he thought it was. “Right, well, you’re amazing at it.”

“Did you come here in the middle of the night simply to tell me how good I am in bed?”

“No! Not quite,” She ran her hands through her hair. “Before you, I had never done anything like that before. I had never even thought of doing anything like that before.”

“Alright,” he stood with his arms crossed. He wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with all of this but the feeling of dread was spreading through the rest of his body.

“And that means that I had also never done anything like that to myself, either.” She swallowed, looking at the ground. “And I’ve tried so hard recently. I didn’t want to say anything, truly. Because I don’t want you to think that I only think of you in that way because I do love you.”

His world stopped for a moment. She loved him? The vampire spawn with a master in Baldur’s Gate? The feeling of dread didn’t necessarily go away. A part of him tried to deny what she had just said as incessant rambling. But, a part of him hoped and prayed that it was true.

That someone as incredible as Tav could love him.

“And I would never want to push you into something you would be less than comfortable with. But I need help. I don’t know how to do that on my own. Astarion, I need your help. I don’t know who else I could ask or even trust with this.”

Astarion shook his thoughts from his head. The fact that she did say she loves him was not something she realized she said. He cleared his throat, “Are you asking me how to play with yourself?”

Tav looked up at him with those glossy eyes and nodded. Sheepish was not a word anyone would use to describe her. But it did warm his cold heart just a little that she was trusting him to see this side of her. He took a moment to just look at her. She had taken her hair down. Those blonde waves only came to her shoulders. The scar on her lip that she wouldn’t speak about was trembling ever so slightly. Her arms were crossed under her chest, unknowingly pushing her breasts up. The freckles on her face were almost hidden by the blush in her cheeks. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She looked beautiful.

Astarion didn’t say anything. He simply walked over to his bedroll and sat. He grabbed her hand, enjoying the new calluses on them. They weren’t like this when they met. They were soft and oh so delicate. He pulled her onto his lap and settled her between his legs. Pulling her back to him, he gently untied the knots in her trousers.

“You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I don’t have to, my dear. But how can I stand idly by while you’re struggling so much? Take them off.” He truly didn’t mind. He does sometimes forget that she is more inexperienced than most virgins. He’s surprised she lasted this long before cracking just a little.

She managed to shimmy off her trousers and her underclothes before settling back against him. He spread her legs over his, keeping his touches gentle this time.

“Give me your hands,” he reached for hers. He put his hands over hers, laying his chin on her shoulder. “You have to be patient.” He used her own hands to massage her breasts underneath her tunic. Her little gasps made him smirk. “When you’re by yourself, you’ll have to be quiet. You wouldn’t want Wyll or Halsin to hear you, would you?” He slowly dragged her hands down her navel towards that sweet spot between her legs.

She shakes her head, “No, I-I don’t think I would.” Her breathing was already getting heavy.

“Wouldn’t want to make them jealous, would you?” He used her fingers to gather some of the wetness of her cunt. “I imagine Gale would be rather upset if he knew how much you enjoyed this.”

“W-what do you mean?” He was tracing patterns now. Lazily enjoying how easy it was to feel her tremble in his arms.

“Oh, my love, it’s hard not to notice how they look at you. How everyone looks at you. They already want you. Dear, sweet Tav. If only they knew.” He practically purred, sending chills down her spine.

“Astarion-”

“If only they knew how desperate for release you are. So needy and willing. I wonder what depravity goes on in your head all day to get you this wet before anyone’s touched you.”

She came so easily for him. Head thrown back on his shoulder, body shaking against his. He then did something he had never done before. He just held her. Wrapping his arms around her, he let her ride out the aftershocks of her release.

Her words played on repeat in his head. “I do love you.” Something so small, so inconsequential. At least, it used to be. Love had always been a trick. A death trap. Fake.

“Astarion?” She whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Can I help-” she swallowed, “can I take care of you?” He let her wiggle out of his grip. She turned to face him. “I want to take care of you.”

“How do you intend to do so?” Tav loved how his voice dropped when they were like this. It made her feel like she had the same effect on him that he had on her. With shaky hands, she put them on his chest and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, one that held far more than just passion. With her hands still shaking, she undid the ties on his blouse. Opening it just a bit more. She wanted to see him. To see all of him.

She looked at him with those big blue eyes, unsure of herself. With a deep breath, she went to the ties on his trousers. “I think-” another swallow, “With my mouth?”

If he wasn’t so hard, he might have laughed at her uncertainty. He might have teased her for her innocence. But once she took his cock into her hand, all those thoughts went out the window. She was on her knees before him, gently starting to stroke him. WIthout any instruction, she started licking the tip. He groaned, “You found one of Shadowheart’s books, I take it?”

Her movements stalled, her ears going red. “Possibly.” Before he could think of a response, she took the head into her mouth. She tried sucking gently before he laced his hands in her hair. He wasn’t pushing, just simply holding.

“Relax, my love. I know you can take me deeper.” His voice was deeper. Turning her eyes towards his face, she saw how enraptured he was. She tried relaxing her throat. She wanted to take him deeper. Wanted him to feel good. She managed about halfway before gagging. “Slowly, don’t try to take more than you can.”

She was drooling. The book she read didn’t mention drooling. She was worried it might be gross but he didn’t seem to mind. “That’s it, darling, make a mess for me.” She moaned and took him out of her mouth for a moment to look up at him and breathe. He smiled at her. “You look so sweet like this.” He was out of breath. It’s never felt like this before. He’s never enjoyed it this much before.

She went right back to it. Trying to take whatever she could in her mouth and getting the rest with her hands. Her jaw was starting to ache but his moans were music to her ears. “If you keep going like this, I won’t last much longer.”

She went just a little faster. “Darling-” the grip on her hair tightened. She could feel him pulse on her tongue. With a gasp, he finished. She swallowed him down to his base, just letting him use her mouth. She stayed there for a moment before Astarion gave a gentle tug of her hair. His cum tasted strange. The book described it as salty and heady. But his had an almost metallic tang to it. She swallowed as much as she could. She raised her head to meet his.

Gods above, she was beautiful. Astarion saw the tear tracks on her face, the cum sitting on the corner of her mouth. It took his breath away. She was truly something else.

“Was that okay?” She practically whispered to him.

He let out a breathy laugh, “You did wonderfully, my love.” He pulled her up, tucking himself back in his trousers. He reached and handed her hers.

She grabbed them and stood. Slipping them back on, she turned to face him, “Can I-”

“Of course,” he reached for her. Pulling her back down next to him. He started to adjust so she was next to him but she shook her head. “What is it?”

“I want to hold you, if that’s alright.” He was taken aback by this. He was still barely used to holding her hand by the fire. He didn’t say anything but rolled to his side. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “Goodnight, Astarion.” She placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“Goodnight, darling.”

#astarion #astarion smut #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #fem!tav #not my gif

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dullgecko · 15 days ago

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Ok, since you said this is how we play I'll try It, how does Riz react when he learns he's Friends are alive? I guess he feels relive, that means he hasn't got them kill but at the same time why haven't they revivem him?

Yeah baby! Play the game get a prize (the prize is more words)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

There was something to be said about being dead, Riz certainly didn’t feel himself getting tired anymore beyond the general brain fatigue of reading through records for hours on end. Bytopia almost rivalled the nine hells when it came to bureaucracy but the rogue considered himself an expert after helping Fig claim ownership of the bottomless pit. A little angelic paperwork wasn’t going to stop him even if he felt like he was going a cross-eyed from reading through rulebooks and forms.

Once Pok had shown him to the record room, a vast almost endless plain of bookshelves that stretched to the horizon hidden behind an unassuming door in the fields of Elysium, he’d been called away to deal with a problem for the LPRTF. Riz getting left behind to find the information he needed with only what little guidance his father could give him in the few seconds he had spare before sprinting out of the room.

This was fine. Riz was his party’s research guy. If there was something here to find he would find it that was guaranteed. First and foremost? Making sure his party was okay. It took him a couple of hours to track down everyone’s files, the goblin feeling relieved when he checked and found that each of them was still okay and alive in turn. Each of their records was a detailed account of their entire lives, the pages in the ‘future’ were written but even looking at them made his head spin and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He absently wondered if maybe Adaine would be able to see what was written there given she was the oracle, but the better question would be whether she wanted to read it.

He didn’t want to violate his friend’s privacy too badly though, even though he was very tempted to take a quick peek at their childhoods, only quickly checking their status was listed as ‘alive’ on their files before placing them back where he found them. Checking his own records should be fine though right?

Finding his own records was a lot harder, mostly because they were stored separately from those still on the Prime Material, and when he found it it was almost triple the size of his friends. Reams of paperwork regarding his employment with the LPRTF enclosed between the covers of the folder making it much thicker. He carefully started pulling out and reading through the bundles of paperwork, mostly just curious if there was any information that could be gleaned there but his brows ended up knitting together in confusion. The goblin tucking the folder under his arm as he went to find a reference book to double check everything was filed correctly because he had a niggling feeling still that something was off about his current life-status.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Time, when you’re dead, can get a little bit weird. You don’t need to sleep or eat (even though you can if you really want to) so the normal methods Riz tended to use to track the progression of time were completely absent. Because of this it had been nearly five days after entering that he finally stumbled back out of the records room, clutching his own file and a reference book in one hand and a slightly crumpled wad of paperwork in the other, and at least three files with his tail. The goblin looking a mix between completely and totally manic and gleeful as he stumbled over to the nearest agents desk and slammed the paperwork down in front of them.

“I should NOT be dead. Where’s Agent Gukgak?”

“He is, um, out? Some trouble in the Nine Hells.” The gnoll who’s desk he’d slammed the paperwork onto looked surprised, hyena ears flicking as they glanced between the face of the slightly unhinged looking goblin and the paperwork pinned under his hand.

“Oh okay, cool, never mind I’ll just talk to you then. I shouldn’t be dead.”

“You said… but I’m going to assume you’re going to explain why?”

They knew this was Pok’s kid, everyone in the LPRTF knew who he was and when word came in that he’d ascended at only seventeen they’d felt awful for him. Their wonderfully talented part time lower planar consultant suddenly promoted to full-time agent before he was even legally an adult? Incredibly sad, but there was little they could do about it other than help him through the first few stages of realising your ticket had been punched permanently. He looked WELL and truly into the denial phase right now.

“Yes. Okay, look. I found my file and all my employment paperwork and stuff.” Riz juggled his armful of papers, dumping them onto a clear spot on the gnoll agents desk and flipping open the reference book to the pages he’d marked. “You guys had permission to fast track me to ascended soul when I died and lock in my employment. This form.”

“Sure did honey, didn’t want you having to spend weeks in limbo while we processed everything so it was pre-filled for you.”

“Cool, alright, you know what I’m talking about then.” He shuffled through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. “It’s filled in WRONG. You’ve got it listed as ‘on the event of my death’.”

“Yes dear.”

“No you don’t get it. It’s been filed as ‘on the event of my next death’ not ‘permanent death’. They filled in this bit of paperwork wrong. I’m an adventurer we die all the time but our cleric usually brings us back.” He jabbed at the page, juggling another file onto her desk from the stack he was holding with his tail. “This is my friend Kristens file, she’s my party cleric, she tried to resurrect me within fifteen seconds of my dying but you guys had already locked me in to becoming an ascended soul working here. You stopped me from being resurrected with the protections that stop agents being summonable to other planes without prior approval. She totally could have brought me back.”

“That’s not-“ The gnoll agent blinked, pulling the page Riz was jabbing at closer and reaching over to grab the reference book as well. The agent flipping through a few pages before smoothing out the slightly crumpled page Riz had been clutching, their eyes going wide with realisation. “-oh… oh dear. Well… you’re not wrong.”

“So we need to fix it.” Riz reached behind himself to grab the other files he’d been holding in his tail and stack them neatly on the desk, wings relaxing out of their outstretched position to fold comfortably behind his back as he calmed down.

“Well, we can fix it but you’re still dead kiddo. This is a huge fuck up on our part but we can’t just… zap you back into your old body. Literally all it will do is change the wording on this form to be ‘permanent death’… and it’s been nearly seven days since you died.” They dug a pen out of their desk drawer, waving it over the piece of paper and instantly fixing the wording in front of Riz before placing it back in his file still sitting on their desk.

“Yeah but they could still bring me back. Kristen could try Raise Dead that’s got a ten day time limit.” Riz flicked his tail, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk.

“Not really? You’re already an ascended soul and like you said, they can’t summon you to a lower plane without permission.”

“So? Just get me to a lower plane? Fig is the mistress of the Bottomless Pit they can just resurrect me there.”

The gnoll agent winced, having to look away when the rogue dropped his ears back and gave them the saddest look they’d ever seen. Holding their hand up to block their view of his face when he purposefully dilated his eyes to make them look bigger. “No, stop that. We could try but the process for approving getting an agent to the lower planes can take days.”

There was a blinding flash of light off to their left that made Riz drop the ‘sad goblin’ expression and stand back up straight, ears flicking into an expression of mild confusion as Pok was left behind in the wake of the beam of light. The older goblins hair smoking slightly and smelling heavily of sulphur as he glanced around the field and zero’d in on his son.

“Hey sport. Feeling better? Find what you needed to find?”

“Yeah. Paperwork was wrong. I shouldn’t be dead.”

Pok blinked, glancing at the gnoll agent who just nodded and shrugged in answer to his silent question. “Oh. Alright then. Glad to hear it. You might want to come with me then.”

Riz ruffled his wings and trot over to take Poks hand when it was offered, his father leading him away from the field full of desks until they were barely visible in the distance. The rogue just making a confused noise before reaching out to dust some of the soot off his dads back while they walked.

“Where have you been?”

“Just a few problems on the lower planes, I had them teleport me back here when I realised where the problem was headed.” He laughed, leading Riz up and over a hill that looked down into a different field of Elysium below them. A jagged tear splitting the landscape like someone had ripped a hole in a piece of paper, the bow of an unfamiliar ship jammed through the crack and allowing several demons to spill into Bytopia unimpeded.

All Riz could really do was stand there in shock as several figures clambered their way out of the ship to the ground, one of them stabbing one of the demons that launched themselves off the ship after them and putting them down in one attack. The figure turning to point their sword at the nearest celestial trying to fight back the incursion in order to ask them a question.

“YOU! Where the FUCK is Riz Gukgak?” Fabian slashed at another of the demons as they tumbled off the ship, giving it a swift kick to knock it back through the rift.

“Oh. Wait are my party the problem or are they helping you with a different one?”

“Bit of both.” Pok laughed, ruffling Riz’s hair after letting go of his hand. “The demons were trying to invade anyway they just hitched a ride on their ship to help fight them back… and probably come to fetch you.”

“Well… saves me a trip to the lower planes for a resurrection since I got my paperwork sorted.”

“I was a bit worried we’d have to fight your friends off too if they tried to take you but it looks like you sorted out the nitty gritty on your own… Good job.” Pok held his arms out, grunting a little when Riz threw himself at him for a hug before glancing back down at his friends fighting below.

“I’m going to go help… and hopefully get revived. Thanks dad.”

“No problem Riz. Just… make sure you don’t come visit again for a long while?... at least outside of normal consultant stuff at least.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Fighting back the incursion had been tough without his weapons but at least he still had claws and teeth that he could fight back with. When the last demon fled back through the rift Riz was left exhausted, covered in gore and with a newfound appreciation for his wings which gave him a bit of an edge when it came to getting into a good position to rip out taller creatures throats.

He was only able to bask in the satisfaction of a fight well fought for all of six seconds though, Fabian dropping Fandrangor to the ground as he scooped the goblin up in a hug that could crush ribs. Riz happily throwing his arms around his neck and hugging back with just as much enthusiasm.

“What the fuck Riz, I take a nap for three hours and you go and get yourself killed? Ridiculous.” The half elf huffed, smoothing his hands along Riz’s back and tucking him more securely against his front as he turned to convene with the rest of their party.

“Sorry. It was an accident. Would have been fine if someone hadn’t fucked up my paperwork up here.” Riz purred happily, not caring that he was getting Fabian covered in demon ichor as he was hauled over to Kristen. Their cleric elbow deep in his briefcase as she pulled out a blanket wrapped bundle and placed it gently on the floor. Unwrapping it just enough that it wasn’t so tightly bound but keeping the sheet draped over the top so he wasn’t visible underneath.

“Oh… that’s my corpse. That is… deeply unsettling.” Riz winced, glad that he couldn’t really see past the sheet that had been left draped over his body. Seeing his own seven-day rotting remains would not be good for his psyche.

“NOT going to be a corpse in a minute.” Kristen reached over to pat his head when Fabian sat down next to her, their cleric reaching into her pocket with her other hand to withdraw a massive purse full of diamonds and slam it on the ground next to the head of the body before her.

“I am going to do this until it FUCKING STICKS this time. OKAY. Riz Gukgak. You are currently available and willing to be resurrected yes?”

“Yeah?”

“Good. Fair warning, this is going to take a while and you are going to feel like shit afterwards. Raise dead is going to leave you exhausted for a while afterwards.”

Kristen reached into the bag for a diamond with one hand, holding it up as she touched Riz’s body with her staff and started the spell. As soon as the staff touched his chest Riz felt something tug at the core of his being. He didn’t resist, letting his consciousness blank out and following the pull as everything went black for what felt like a few seconds.

Riz had to admit, when he next opened his eyes, that Kristen was not lying about how awful he would feel upon being resurrected. The goblin groaning and throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light because everything hurt. He assumed it had worked though, not just because of the sheer exhaustion he was feeling right now but also because of the delighted exclamations of his teammates around him. The goblin huffing tiredly flicking his tail when Fabian picked him up again and held him against his front, Riz dropping his head onto his shoulder and making an unhappy hissing noise at the movement.

“Uuuuugh fuck. Ow? You weren’t kidding. How long will this take to go away?”

“Four long rests. Sorry.” Kristen pat his back soothingly, Riz absently noting that he didn’t have wings there any more and feeling a little sad for their loss. Oh well.

“Gods. Okay that’s going to suck.” He yawned, squinting his eyes open to blink at the ship still lodged in the dimensional tear behind them. “Speaking of sucking… did any of you tell my mom that I died or is that something I’m going to have to do when we get home?”

“Oh fuck… sorry dude we totally forgot.”

#fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian seacaster #bad kids #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring #adaine abernant #kristen applebees

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callsignhood · 11 months ago

Text

König on a rampage

Tags: Angst / Headcanons /‼️Description of violence and cruelty‼️ / Not proofread /Dark König??

Word count: 500ish

König was always on missions during his twenties. Sometimes it lasted for days, sometimes for weeks.

Being deployed and following commands was almost a therapy for him. It provided him the focus on something that could be controlled, rather than his untouchable anxiety.

Handling weapons and aiming targets was easier than handling relationships, which he was slow at.

He wasn’t too close to his team, but they weren’t strangers either, of course. He just had trouble to open himself up to anyone.

He was young, with a body built like an oak tree and nerves of steel. He always tried to maintain calculated during gunfights. Although he was young, he never acted recklessly. He was even willing to retreat if the consequences of pushing forward were high.

König rarely got shot since was agile and vigilant on the battlefield. If he was, he knew how to treat wounds because it was given as mandatory training.

His pain tolerance was very high. Or maybe he’s just good at keeping everything by himself. He’d clench his teeth and wrap the flesh tightly to stop the blood flow, take a few breaths, self-evaluate if he can do this or not, then continued to fight.

He barely had any rest, because he believed he didn’t need much of that. If he had a day off, he would wash off all the blood and sweat on his body, eat until he’s satisfied, then slam himself on the bed and sleep for an entire day.

König was then deployed to Berlin. It was a rescue operation from the hands of Al-Quatala, and he led a team of five.

It was a mission under raining bullets. The commander has underestimated enemies’ resources, and König’s team was struggling with limited assets.

One of them was down during this twelve hours pain-in-the-ass battle. It made König frustrated at the whole situation.

He sweated under his gears and gloves, changing mags and yelling out order behind cover. He counted his bullets, not enough. His commander has not yet telling them to retreat.

Fucking bullshit, he mumbled. This better not be a suicide mission.

He then e saw a child being thrown out instead of a grenade, a few feet beside him. As he was taking in this sudden information, a flash of explosion blinded his eyes, he felt himself being knocked out by the shockwave.

He growled at the pain, got up from the bloody ground after a few seconds of struggle, then he saw half of an arm and one foot. Small. Belonged to the child.

König took a few breaths, their death sinking into his brain and it made his blood boil. For the first time, he didn’t wait for further instruction by the commander, as he let rage takeover the body.

And it became his weapon, he stormed into the room with his assault rifle, shot down a few panicked enemy that was fleeing to take cover. They did not expect anyone would storm into their base recklessly like this.

He double-tapped them, then took pursuit on the rest like a beast going rogue. Six were on the base floor, four on the roof top. If his ammo ran out, he’d ditch it and grab a rifle from the dead enemies. Turns out they had a fucking heavy machine gun, that’s why König’s squad were showered with bullets.

If there was a chance for melee combat, he’d use the most painful method without a blink.

He got shot twice on the arm, once on the leg form the back. He bit through it, half with adrenaline, half with his flaming rage. He had enough with this. Nothing could stop König on his rampage.

The remaining two were guarding the hostages. König took aim and shot one of them dead with one bullet.

The other screamed and wanted to run, but König was faster, pinned him down and grabbed him like a prey. His own blood stained the clothing, and the burning revenge was dripping down from his eyes, glared down at the enemy.

“You like to be cruel, ja?” König spitted, stabbed the knife into his eye. “Then I’ll pay it back to you!” He gutted out those painful screams. Again and again, as it was the only way to calm himself down.

When König was done venting his fire out, he turned to the hostages. He was almost covered in red with a pair bloodlust eyes. They were trembling at the sight of this man, refused to go with him.

They had to be convinced by the rest of his team, so they could be finally escorted to safety. The team also took care of König. They were terrified too.

König finally passed out on the retreat heli by the blood lost and by his overwhelmed mind.

#konig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #konig cod #konig modern warfare #konig headcanons #könig headcanons #konig fanfiction #könig fanfiction #konig mwii #könig mwii

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atrueneutral · 9 months ago

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"It was an insult to be ignored for so long!" Haarlep has so much cat energy. I can honestly picture them pushing (breakable) stuff off tables in retaliation for being ignored for too long while also making eye contact with Raphael the entire time.

"... and the infernal quill snapped." WHY IS THAT SO HOT?!?!?

"What was to happen if Raphael’s confrontation included an equally flustered, moaning, orgasming little mouse!" Now I really want to read a follow up piece following Raphael's perspective as he is torn between raging lust and just rage when he finds the little mouse desperate and moaning (maybe she even entreats Raphael for help idk - then Haarlep could be all, 'See? Don't say I never do anything for you, brat.').

[PART I] It was because of Korrilla’s constant reconnaissance that Raphael knew where his little mouse and her companions were hiding out and licking their wounds.

It was an encampment just outside of Rivington, and Raphael walked into it as if he owned the land and each little makeshift tent that was built upon it.

The vampire spawn was the first to notice his arrival.

“What the devil are you doing here?” His question, which had come out more with surprise than anger, caused other nearby members of the party to turn, look and see who the devil in question was.

Raphael’s eyes darted to count heads; everyone seemed to be accounted for, either standing beside their personal tent or waiting around for the late night dinner that was cooking over the fire.

Everyone was there - except for their mischievous wretch of a leader…

“I’d also like to know why you’re here, Raphael,” Mizora's pet said, stepping up with his hand on the hilt of his rapier.

The wizard was scrutinizing him from the fire as he stirred what smelled to be a stew of some kind, and Zariel’s rogue soldier was glaring at him from a distance.

He would ignore the rest.

“Where is she?” Raphael demanded of the vampire spawn; of them all, he had established a rapport with Astarion - established trust.

“She’s in her tent,” Astarion replied, staring at him sideways. “Said she wasn’t feeling well…”

“And which hovel is hers?”

Astarion took too long to decide what he wanted to say or do.

“I can deduce the answer on my own, but your assistance would make my visit shorter,” Raphael drawled.

“What do you want with Tav?” Mizora’s pet asked.

It was then that a stifled cry sounded out from elsewhere in the camp, and Raphael glanced at the vampire spawn with rage prickling under his skin.

“She’s ill, you say?” he inquired, knowing full well what ailed their leader. Then, to Mizora's pet, “I have business with her regarding the contract she signed, and I advise that you do not try to stop me from discussing matters with my client.”

With that, Raphael brushed past them and headed towards the source of the cry.

The tent was uniquely her; the exterior of the shelter was overflowing with a hodgepodge collection of stolen items ranging from useless to expensive. The lantern that would illuminate her area had been extinguished, and the canvas flap of the entrance was closed, but he could hear movement and strangled moans coming from inside.

She was not sleeping, or ill, and blood flowed to his cock.

Raphael was grateful most of her companions had, by now, gathered around the fire - likely to speculate what ‘business’ called him to their camp. To confirm his hunch, he could feel the gaze of a multitude of eyes at his back.

Raphael stepped to the tent’s entrance and ripped open the flap of his mouse’s tent without warning or care.

It was only a second, but the second was long enough for him to get a glimpse of her arched, spread legs and the fingers that pumped into her sex before her other hand slid out from underneath her tunic to frantically throw the blanket of her bedroll over herself.

The heady expression on her flushed features was quickly replaced with dawning recognition, and his mouse’s eyes widened.

The scent of her arousal permeated the tent, and a tent was rapidly being built in his breeches.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she whispered, startled by his unexpected appearance.

“What were you doing in my House?” Raphael challenged in return.

He inhaled her aroma as subtly (and deeply) as he could.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Raphael’s head tilted and his eyes bored into hers - doubting her ignorance when the repercussions of her tryst with his incubus were presently on display.

“Fine! I-” Her concession was interrupted when she bit her lip and choked down a moan. He could discern subtle movement underneath the blanket as her eyelids fluttered closed. “I was there… I wanted, ah - to see your House in person…”

“Are you fucking yourself as we speak?”

Her eyes opened and the sensuous look she gave him sent another wave of heat to his groin.

“No - that, mm, would be rude of me,” was his mouse’s brazen and breathless response.

Raphael entered the tent, flap closing behind him, and he tore the blanket away to find that his mouse was, unarguably, continuing to fuck herself while he was talking to her.

“What is the matter with you?” she shouted as quietly as she could while simultaneously pulling her glistening fingers out from her sex and clamping her legs closed. “And get out of my tent!”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account!” he retorted. “There’s no need for modesty when I could return to my House of Hope this very instant and look upon every inch of your body - it’s mine now.”

Her back arched as she was hit with what must have been a wave of pleasure. “Mm, well, I wouldn’t have - ah! Played around with Haarlep had I known this would happen - fuck!”

At this rate, he needed release just as much as she.

“Put your fingers back into your pretty little cunt,” he demanded, his voice becoming a lustful and low purr.

“No!” she exclaimed, indignant.

Vexing creature!

“You will do as I say, or I will go back out and tell your party the specifics of your situation - unless they already know?”

His mouse scowled. She slowly parted her legs and put her fingers back into her pretty-little-soaking-wet-cunt.

Raphael’s rage and reasoning for confronting her became consumed by lustful hunger; he was hypnotized - enraptured by the sight before him; his little mouse pleasuring herself with fingers that rhythmically disappeared into her, her body writhing and squirming with pert, hardened nipples that were visible through the thin material of her tunic, her face - the way her lips parted and the way her eyes stared into his with want…

“Mm, you’re still in my tent, Raphael…” she stated huskily.

Her scent overwhelmed his nostrils - his blood, already naturally hot, was on fire with desire.

His mouse bit back another cry as her slick fingers moved to the sensitive bud of her clit.

“My companions are going to talk…” Her eyes glanced at his crotch and traced the taut line that pushed against fabric. “Maybe a few of them will think we’re fucking.”

She was twisting him around her finger…

“Yes, I suppose they will,” he murmured as he watched her bite her lip and moan.

And he would let her.

“Do you want to fuck me, Raphael?”

His answer was automatic.

“Yes.”

She moaned again, as if his confirmation was something she had needed to hear.

“Since signing the contract, I’ve imagined you fucking me while you wear the Crown of Karsus on your head…”

A growl rumbled in his chest, and his fingers twitched while his cock yearned to ravage her.

Is that what she wanted? Did she want him to lose control? Did she want him to take her?

“Haarlep’s been teasing me for awhile,” his mouse said. “And I can’t seem to come by myself…”

His mouth was dry.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Little Mouse?”

“Yes,” was her automatic response. She looked delirious (delicious).

Raphael nearly came then and there.

Her fingers were back in her cunt.

“Beg me to fuck you, Little Mouse, and I may oblige.”

“Please, fuck me, Archdevil Supreme Raphael - end my agony.”

And he would! Nine Hells, the strength and willpower - the control it took to not throw himself upon her! But a change in setting was necessary. For all the times he envisioned this scenario, none of them included taking the object of his desire on her unwashed bedroll that lay in the dirt of her tent of stolen goods while her companions were lingering outside waiting for any excuse to attack.

“Get up,” he ordered huskily.

She frowned, blinking at him as she stilled her movements; her sex-addled mind did not comprehend his meaning.

“We are going to the Devil’s Den. Unless you would like me to take you in this hovel?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m sure it’s been a fantasy of your party's; to eat while hearing the bliss-filled, melodic sound of their leader coming undone by a devil.”

Realization lit up somewhere behind her eyes.

“No…”

“Come along, Little Mouse,” he said. His eyes lingered between her thighs before they traveled up her body to meet her needful gaze. “And I shall give you what you’ve long desired.”

What he’s long desired…

Not needing to be told twice, she stood on shaky legs whilst grabbing the breeches that had been cast aside and hastily put them on. She then found a piece of parchment from her pack, scribbled a note, and placed it upon her bedroll.

“I’ve let them know that you haven’t kidnapped me - that we’re…” In a single step, his mouse was before him. “‘Discussing business’ elsewhere...”

She snaked a hand around his neck and pulled his head down to meet hers.

They disappeared from the tent with a burst of fire and embers.

#off to the devil's den #yes there will be a part three #raphael x tav #raphael bg3 #bg3 #raphael x tav fanfiction #baldur’s gate 3 #answered #drabble

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ourloveisforthelovely · 2 years ago

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Saying “Yes”

Regulus Black AU

Summary: Saying "yes" is never what you planned on happening.

Parings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

Song in story: “Savages” by MARINA

____

I'm not the only one who finds it hard to understand. I'm not afraid of God, I am afraid of man

From the moment that Regulus stepped onto the train, you knew that something was eating him. You had waited in your normal “meeting place” where the two of you met every year and he never showed. While you were annoyed at him for standing you up, the look on his face made all those annoyed feelings vanish.

Regulus’ normally haughty cold expression seemed to be amplified by whatever was eating him. You moved your books to the side as he stepped into the compartment and promptly shut the door. He took off his suit jacket and tossed it to the other seat before sitting down beside you.

Waiting a moment, you wanted to give Regulus a chance to speak. You sat nearly on edge until Regulus sighed.

“So are you going to tell me what’s eating you? You didn’t meet me at our place.”

Regulus was quiet a moment longer before looking up. His grey eyes were darker than normal. Immediately, a nervous feeling went through you.

“Reggie?”

Regulus took a breath. He was dreading this conversation. THIS was what he had been dreading since halfway through the summer.

“Do you love me?”

You seemed confused by that question. Of course, you loved him! Regulus was the first person that you had ever loved. He was absolutely everything to you!

“Regulus, you silly. I love you more than anything.”

Regulus nodded before taking a breath.

“I said yes.”

You frowned before realization hit you. Regulus said yes to Voldemort. You were aware that the dark lord had been trying to recruit Regulus for months. Voldemort was all but sending Regulus flowers and begging him to join his side…the right side (or so he thought) and now he got his way.

“You did?”

You questioned. Regulus nodded before rolling up his shirt sleeve. Your eyes moved to the dark mark on his creamy skin.

Regulus was watching your face for any sign of disgust and anger. If you left him because of this, he truly didn’t know what he would do. You were the constant in his life. You were the one thing that meant the most and if he lost you…Regulus would be ready to die for real this time.

“I had to Y/n. I had to because it secures our future. We’ll be out of school in two years and will be married. I had to think about our future.”

While that wasn’t entirely a lie, it wasn’t entirely the truth either. Voldemort had threatened to have you killed.

“If you don’t say yes…your little girlfriend will die.”

Voldemort’s cold words had haunted Regulus’ sleep since the night that he HAD to say yes. Regulus would never forgive himself if something happened to you because of his reluctance to say yes to a madman. He could only hope that somehow, by saying yes, he could make good out of it. Surely there would be some way to “right” the “wrongs” that he was about to commit.

“We can make the best of it. You know that I will always support you.”

You said in a soft whisper. Regulus’ grey eyes rolled right back to your face.

“Do you mean it? Y/n, this is about to change me in a way that I don’t even know what to expect.”

You quickly climbed onto Regulus’ lap and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. The two of you remained that way for a few moments. You were the first to make a move.

“I love you, Regulus. I’ll always have your back…no matter what.”

Underneath it all we're just savages, Hidden behind shirts, ties and marriages. How could we expect anything at all?

______

@amelie-black @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @jessyballet @knreidy1 @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @criminalyetminimal @livshifts @ell0ra-br3kk3r @starsval @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @readtomeregulus @coffeeaddictednymph @daddyslittlevillain @rogue-nyx88 @panpride @saramaple @missgorldafirst @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @f4iryluvy @buttercup-beeee @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @quinis @yousmellllikecaca @mentally-unstable-hoe @haroldpotterson @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @aurorasnape12 @ad-astra-again @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @dumybitch @un-lovesherself @melaninnbarbie @marichromatic @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @li0nh34rt @tas898 @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @shitfaceddaniel-blog @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @mycuddlycorner

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natrogersfics · 6 months ago

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The Anthology - Chapter 1: The Bolter

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

His place, as it turns out. More out of proximity than anything else. And despite Natasha’s blood humming contentedly in her veins as she nestles underneath the sheets later that night, sleep doesn’t quite manage to find her. She looks away from the shadows dancing across the ceiling and turns to the space next to her, where Steve is slumbering peacefully. One side of his face is burrowed into his pillow, but it doesn’t matter. Somehow, underneath the moonlight streaming through the liminal space between the curtains, cutting through the darkness of his bedroom, he manages to look even more beautiful. Surrendering to the urge to reach across what little distance remains between them, she lets her fingers brush away the rogue strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead. The action elicits a blissful sigh from him as he stirs ever so slightly, and she doesn’t miss the way that makes her heart feel as though it’s a little too big for her chest.

This wasn’t the plan. When the directors had suggested that they spend more time together – allow the chemistry to blossom, they had said – they hadn’t agreed to anything more than afternoon coffees in the name of, as the panel’s mediator had put it, movie magic. And if either of them expected anything more, it’s not as though anything could really come of this anyway. He’s America’s sweetheart, the current darling of the industry and the face of the hottest superhero franchise. Tarnishing that image would be a crime – especially by her hands. Only those coffees had quickly turned into dinners in each other’s rentals. Which seamlessly paved the way for late night chats over bottles of wine that never quite made it into glasses. And before either of them realized, they were hooked on the taste of Bordeaux on each other’s lips. But even as reaching for each other in the middle of the night had started to become so automatic it was practically a reflex, she never thought it would turn into… well, this. This was only supposed to be fun, a harmless outlet for the relentless pressure that came with headlining a blockbuster. Nothing more. There was never supposed to be any reverence in this. At least, not in the way Steve touched her, setting her skin alight as he got to know every single inch of it as if it were his own. Nor was it supposed to be in the way he looked at her, his blue eyes baring into hers and seeing past seemingly every façade she’s spent years carefully crafting. But it’s there, its presence as glaring as the sun on a cloudless morning that even she can’t convince herself otherwise. Above all else, though, she was never supposed to reciprocate any of that. Not willingly, anyway. She could chalk up knowing that he can only take his coffee if it’s piping hot and that he can’t stand the taste of pickles to the many hours spent on set together, but what of the rest? She had no excuse for revealing to him, truthfully, the meaning behind the tattoos on her skin when he had asked – close to dozing off as he was. Or the vitriol that burns deep within her each time she hears the invasive questions the press directs at him, shamelessly trying to pry into what little of his life he doesn’t share with the world. Perhaps most egregious, though, is how sometimes, she catches herself wishing that here, next to him, is truly her place. That, when the sets are taken down and the shutters are placed back on all the lenses, she could still, at the end of the day, watch him dream.

Which is what she’s doing now, it seems. Fuck. The realization runs through her like a freight train, and it’s as though for a moment, the breath gets caught in her lungs. For this feeling, it’s one she knows well. One she’s felt before, one too many times, if the entire world were to have their say. And while the bruises from those times were solely metaphorical, she still knows where they are, and can still feel where they once marked her. A sudden flash in the dark breaks her reverie, and it’s almost in relief that she shifts to her side to reach for her phone on the bedside table, her lungs finally remembering how to function as she breathes in. On the screen, an email from her agent catches her eye. To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: URGENT

www.thedailystar.com/castmates-or-more - You don’t need this right now. Neither of you do.

Melina Vostokoff Head of Talent, Red Room Agency 310.168.0098

Her eyebrows furrow as she taps on the link and watches as it opens up her browser.

THE SOLDIER & THE SPY: ROMANCE ON SET

Love is in the air… but is it for who we think it is?

When Marvel Studios had announced that Captain America and Black Widow would be teaming up in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, the long-awaited next installment to the studio’s burgeoning superhero franchise, fans were elated at the possibility of seeing the world’s first Super Soldier finally find his match in the reformed assassin. And while details of the movie’s plot are still being kept under wraps, it appears that regardless of what happens when the movie hits the big screen in the Summer, people may just get the sizzling romance they were seeking.

Costars Steve Rogers, 29, and Natasha Romanoff, 32, who play Captain America and Black Widow respectively, were recently seen having dinner at celebrity hotspot, Nobu Los Angeles. While they had arrived separately, a picture captured of Romanoff driving her onyx Corvette out the parking garage with Rogers in the passenger seat confirmed that the pair had left together at the end of the evening.

“They’ve definitely grown closer since filming began,” an anonymous on-set source tells The Daily Star. “They enjoy each other’s company and it’s not surprising to find them together during downtime. At least not to the people on set.”

Though Rogers hasn’t been linked to anyone in recent months, Romanoff’s divorce from Matt Murdock, star of the Daredevil television series on Disney+, was finalized in the Spring of last year. Prior to marrying the silver screen star, though, Romanoff, who rose to fame taking on roles as enigmatic ingenues in various acclaimed independent films, and who has twice been voted Maxim’s Sexiest Woman Alive, was also married to renowned surgeon, Stephen Strange, earlier on in her career.

The Daily Star has reached out to both Rogers’ and Romanoff’s representatives for comment but did not receive a response prior to this article’s publication.

What do you think of a potential romance between these two costars? Sound off below in the comments!

She knows better by now. Truly, she does. She was a mere child when she entered this industry. Back then, it did no good for anyone to look through the tabloid opinion pages when they were merely in print, and it’s even more deleterious now that anyone could fire off their hot take for the world to see. Even so, like a moth to a flame, she finds herself scrolling further down the page.

HannahLovesCap1918: if he’s wise he’ll stay away from this Maneater!!!!!!!!!!

_sarah_: Husband #3 already in her web, I see!

marvelloverr: Does she never not hang onto the next hot thing?

sophiaxxrogers: it’s giving engagement ring collector fr fr 💀

She stops there, but it doesn’t matter. Every headline written about her begins to flash through her mind like a highlight reel of every mistake she’s ever made, perceived or otherwise. And with a career that’s spanned as long as hers has, that list is lengthy – a ledger gushing with enough red to drown even those who claim to be unfazed by it. The reminder reawakens the pain that’s since dulled but found a permanent home deep in her bones nonetheless, quickly consuming the bubbly effervescence that occupied her mere moments ago, and if that isn’t reason enough to have her bolting out of bed, one final glance at the man sleeping next to her certainly is.

Prologue | Chapter 2

#Romanogers #Captain America #Natasha Romanoff #Steve Rogers #Black Widow #The Anthology #The Bolter #steve x natasha #Movie Star AU #Hollywood AU

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twistedblunderhand · 11 months ago

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Twst characters and the strangest thing that’s happened to them

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle: once a student asked him to help them hide some contraband. They didn’t realize riddle was the house warden, or.. you know.. Riddle. Riddle played along for a sec to see what they were hiding, and found they were keeping a fiFTEEN FOOT PYTHON IN THEIR ROOM WITHOUT TELLING THEIR ROOMATES

Trey: once Riddle’s mom asked for a custom cake for a bachelorette party she was hosting. Trey wasn’t sure if she knew who he was, but he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry

Cater: his sisters trapped him in a box for a few hours and when he got out something was on fire. To this day he doesn’t know what happened

Duce/Ace: they were both going to sneak into MC/Yuu’s dorm for a surprise visit, and saw them throwing something at a mirror and going “LEAVE ME ALONE YOU CREEPY RAT 😭😭😭”. Then they decided to quietly leave

((The “creepy rat” was Mikey mouse /info))

SAVANACLAW

Leona: one time he fell asleep in his bed, but somehow woke up in pomefiore. He has no idea what happened, but he assumes rook has something to do with it. Rook has never confirmed nor denied this

Jack: one time using his signature spell, an influencer™️ went up and tried to take a picture with him. A wolf. He turned back and immediately scolded/yelled at them for being so stupid

Ruggie: he works multiple retail jobs. He’s seen a lot of weird stuff. Once he saw the entirety of scarabia flood a McDonaldDucks wearing banana suits

OCTAVINELLE

Azul/Jade: someone did something disgusting in the sink of the lounge every Monday for two months

Floyd: that time he was used to make face cream

SCARABIA

Jamil: Kalim. But seriously, one time he found someone selling merch of Kalim, and even found a keychain of HIMSELF

Kalim: once Jamil left for a day and Kalim got the entire Scarabia dorm to dress in banana costumes and go to the Spelldrive game and raid random places. It was the best day of his life

POMEFIORE

Vil: he once found fanfic of him and neige and exploded

Epel: once ate one of those “bubble gum flavored” apples by accident and basically fell out of his seat ((trey pranked him))

Rook: neige liked one of his fanfics he wrote about him

IGNIHYDE

Ortho: he once walked in on idia wearing cat ears and a maid outfit and to this day does not know what was going on

Idia: once ortho sent him some WILD fanart of star rogue and went “oops, wrong person 😇”. Idia never got an explanation

DIASOMNIA

Malleus: when scarabia had the banana incident™️ he accidentally wandered in, and was passed a suit. He was so excited to be invited to something he just put it on and didn’t question things

Lilia: he made one of the first memes and no one knows it’s him. He’s like Neil Cicierega of the twst world

Silver: woke up to a “sleeping contest” he was apparently having with Leona by accident. There were people cheering for them and banners set up

Sebek: one time saw yuu call Malleus “babygorl” and malleus didn’t comment??? Is that normal for them??? (Yes)

#heartsabyul #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #diasomnia #twst ignihyde

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catierambles · 1 year ago

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Feral Instincts Ch.32 Final

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1406

Warnings: Uhhhh none? Racist assholes being racist asshole? Alluded to sexy times in the woods?

Sooooo yeah, what started off as a drabble of Sy chopping wood shirtless kinda blew up into it's own thing (it was only supposed to be a one-shot. dear god it was only supposed to be a one-shot) I hope you all thoroughly enjoyed this series. If you didn't, then why the heck are you reading an intro to the last chapter? Nani the fuck? I will eventually be making a master post with links to all the chapters like I did with Null

Without further ado

Mike and Albert were released from the hospital a couple days later, the Council picking up the tab after a “suggestion” from Napoleon. Stephanie knew better than to ask, but she had a feeling they were starting to regret recruiting former CIA Special Agents. They had been planning on sending a Cleaner after her, it hadn’t been Napoleon, but it had still been in the works when Jordan made his move. Apparently they were having problems getting any of the others to accept the assignment when they told them who they would be going after. They rescinded the order after they saw what she did to Jordan, as well as the threat August made during the meeting. Five alphas, one of them being female, with their resume, and it would have been throwing bodies at a brick wall.

Albert had nightmares almost every night after he got home until Stephanie arranged for him to see a therapist specializing in wolves to help him process the trauma of what Jordan had done to him. There had been many mornings when she had woken up to him sitting on the couch in the living room watching TV, dark circles like bruises under his eyes. He had also refused to sleep in that room entirely, having panic attacks if he even stepped into it. He had spent a lot of nights curled up between Stephanie and Mike, wrapped in her arms as she kept the monsters away. Once they rearranged it while he was out of the apartment, so it wasn’t like he remembered when he returned, he was able to go into it.

Mike hadn’t been hurt nearly as bad as Albert, as Jordan had singled Albert out as the weakest, focusing his efforts on him to get him to break. Only when he got it through his head that he wasn’t going to, that he turned to Mike, but that had been a dead end as well and he had had to resort to calling Stephanie from Mike’s phone.

Jordan’s autopsy results were shared with them. Aside from his head being very nearly ripped off, which had been, obviously, his cause of death, he had several broken ribs, a cracked sternum, and a ruptured shoulder. She told the others quite simply that they hadn’t shifted right away, the cracked and broken bones were from her high kicking him in the chest when he rushed her. The torn rotator cuff from when she had thrown him across the room and he had braced his fall. Jordan had been vicious, but Stephanie had been motivated and calculating. He had wanted to hurt her, she had wanted to kill him. Not just for what he had done to the others, but what he had done to her. The pain, the abuse, the alienation, all of it culminating in him ripping her humanity away.

She hadn’t asked to be a wolf, hadn’t wanted it, but he took that choice away from her and her life was forever changed. Had it worked out for the best? Possibly. Probably. But that’s only because she had found Sy that early morning while he had been chopping wood, trusting her instincts that he would help her. If she hadn’t, if Jordan had found her before she had found Sy, it would have turned out very differently and she probably would have just been another one of his victims.

But the what-ifs would only drive her crazy.

It must have gotten out somehow that their Mate was being considered for a Council seat, as the Army contacted Sy, asking him to come back, to renew his commission. They’d give him the rank of Major, any team or posting he wanted. He told them, in not so many words, to piss off. Langley reached out to August. Senior Special Agent, head of Special Activities. He would supervise and coordinate only, no field missions. He saw through it for what it was, the CIA wanting an “inside man” with close ties to the Pack Council, to report on their activities and any decisions they were considering voting on. He also told them to take their offer and shove it somewhere painful. He was done being used.

Walter was contacted by a representative of the Pack Council to be the head of a newly formed joint task force with the FBI. They would be investigating violent crimes perpetrated by wolves, both Feral and non, to determine who best to send to stop them. Trackers for Ferals, Law Enforcement for non-Ferals. With his prior experiences as a Homicide Lieutenant, and having worked with the FBI before, he had quickly gone to the top of their candidate list after he was fully on their radar from the mess with Jordan. He said he would think about it and get back to them.

Geralt had found her brother and her father. Jack had been overjoyed when Geralt reached out to him, but their father hadn’t wanted to meet or speak with them. He hadn’t been in their lives for longer than he had been, so while it did hurt somewhat that he wanted nothing to do with his own children, she decided to focus on Jack. Their reunion had been a joyous one, Stephanie meeting her niece and nephew, fraternal twins, just under two years old.

Wolves or no, bigamy laws were still a thing, so while she couldn’t marry all of them, she could marry one and go through civil unions for the rest. Someone was going to get their feelings hurt no matter whose last name she chose to take. She thought about choosing Sy and taking the last name Syverson, but then Mike made a joke about how he would be sleeping with his sister and she decided against it. In the end, she went with August. Walter had been sullen, but accepted it. Geralt hadn’t seemed to be affected, but she saw through it and made sure he was the first one she went through the civil unions with.

Her mother and her “friends” had crashed Stephanie and August’s reception, screaming vile things at the attendees both wolf and human. How she had known about it, Stephanie had no idea, but she had a feeling one of the current Councilors whose seat she was being considered for had something to do with it. Like most racists, they were cowards, so they stayed on the fringes of the gathering, but it had escalated to her mother throwing a decent sized rock after they refused to be goaded into violence with words. She had aimed it at Stephanie and Geralt caught it before it hit her, crushing it in his fist. That had almost escalated things further, but Stephanie just went to her mother and told her to leave, for her safety and the safety of those she brought. They refused so the cops were called, as the reception was at the cabin and therefore on private property and they were trespassing. Mike had been recording the whole incident on his phone once things started getting tense and had shown the police the video, letting them see the rock being thrown and Stephanie being very calm as she asked them to leave, negating the group’s claims that the wolves were the aggressors, not them. The last time she saw her mother was as she was being shoved, handcuffed and complaining, into the back of a State Trooper’s vehicle.

The honeymoon had been intense, but then again she hadn’t expected it not to be. It was August after all. He had her all to himself for as long as he wanted and he made the most of it. His favorite was to “hunt” her through the forest, reminiscent of the night of her first shift, finally “capturing” her and taking her as a Mate again right there among the trees. Once again, she found herself thankful that she was no longer able to have children.

They wore simple wedding bands on their ring fingers, and Stephanie’s had each of their initials engraved on the inside of hers.

Stephanie didn’t know what would come out of Napoleon putting her name forward as a Councilor, and honestly? She didn’t care. Politics wasn’t her thing, but if accepting would stop other Jordan Lewis’ from being swept under the rug, she would do it. They weren’t hiding anymore, they needed to stop acting like it.

#henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #august walker #hellraiser mike #geralt of rivia #feral instincts

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saphirered · 2 years ago

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hi! i loved your partner in crime fic for vax, do you think you could do another part? its so good ❤️❤️

This turned into some tooth rotting fluff. Hope you enjoy! 😘

Vax has not slept all night. Sleep would not find him but not for his usual reasons. No nightmares haunt him, neither do intrusive thoughts or at least no negative ones. Despite of his lack of sleep he is not tired. He’s wide awake and buzzing. He can’t seem to sit still. He has to fiddle with something; the button of his shirt, his daggers, the braids beads in his hair, his own fingers. He has to be in constant motion to get rid of these jitters. He feels alive in a way he’s not felt in a very long time. He feels like the missing part of him is just within reach. It is. You are. He’s meeting you for lunch. He hasn’t seen you in years and while he dared not dream he always wished your paths would cross again. He thought about how that meeting might go and compared to how your first meeting in years went, he could never have imagined. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. Though far too much time passed between your last goodbye and your reunion and it ached his heart more than he’d like to admit, when you’re there it feels as if not a day has passed at all. Everything feels so much easier, so unburdened and so natural, he longs for more and so the mere thought of you, of seeing you again this afternoon, it fills him with energy and joy. Some might say it’s entirely out of character for him.

Seeing you at that ball, or rather your illusions, your nimble fingers making bank and your keen eyes ever precise. He’d spot you from a mile away, just like you would him. To think Vax tried to get out of his attendance to the ball, he doesn’t dare think of what might have been had he succeeded or slipped into the shadows. He’d have been none the wiser. He’d not be pacing in his room deciding on his outfit and the place to go. He’d not have been fumbling with that jewelled necklace you gave him. “My treat” you’d said for your lunch date. He doesn’t want to get rid of that necklace. It’s the only thing that tells him this wasn’t some figment of his imagination for his mind to cope with a terribly dull evening, or worse a dream entirely. If this is a dream he doesn’t want to wake up. The gold and gems remind him that you’re real and this did happen and he is about to meet you soon. Another hour passes and he asks his sister for some gold instead. She asks too many questions. He gives too little answers.

It didn’t take you much digging. Vox Machina; heroes of the realm. Everyone knew where they lived, their keep in Emon. It was no secret. Dragon slayers, saviours of Whitestone. You’d slept soundly after last night; with your pockets full of gold, your heart filled with warmth and your mind entirely engulfed by the rogue you thought you might never meet again when your lives separated. Your dreams were just that; filled with memories of the past, and some figments of what could be. You don’t think you’ve smiled this much in more time than you’d like to admit. You’ve felt the exhilarating thrill of a big heist and a prosperous job but no amount of adrenaline or satisfaction fills you with the thrill of reuniting with him again. Vax will forever hold a special place in your heart. It just happens to be the piece that makes you feel so alive. You are grateful for his return even if it leaves a little blow to your pride that even after all these years, he’s still able to see right through your disguises and deception. In reality you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You embraced the dreams until it was time to get ready. You’d go out without your armour, without all the tools of your trade, save for some you could hide beneath your specially chosen attire. Pockets are a must. It’s stylish but not too fancy. It’s light and leaves for full range of movement in case you need to run and dive and jump and hide. You’ll have no trouble blending into any crowd. When you said you’d meet Vax for lunch and let him pick the place, you didn’t think to ask the occasion so you’d play it safe. You haven’t put this much thought in a look for anything other than a job that required it. It feels good to do so without that pressure and leaves you feeling giddy inside. It’s time to go and thus with a skip in your step you wander down to that keep in Emon.

He didn’t notice you yet when you approached. He was too caught up in conversation with a gnome dressed in purples; Scanlan Shorthalt you’d learned because how could you not after the ball. You slow your step and stick to the shadows a bit more. Vax’ back is turned to you and the gnome doesn’t notice you until you step out of the shadows. To which his expression changes to a sly and charming one. He all but pushes Vax aside which results in him turning on his heels. You have no eyes for Scanlan and do not even hear his blatant flirt. You just stare into those dark eyes of your half-elf and smile. His lips are parted and he seems entirely caught off guard, as if the realisation only hit now, as if he only now perceived the previous events as true. You approach.

“Hey there, stranger.” You say. Your voice makes him melt and forget his own name. You’re perfect. Your presence, your radiance, it's all just perfect. You are the epitome of perfect. He forgets to breathe until his friend hits him in the knee and pulls him back to reality.

“Well aren’t you-“ The gnome begins but is cut off by Vax who quickly puts a hand over his mouth to silence him. Scanlan protests and his next words are muffled but Vax cares not because he notices how you cover a laugh behind your hand.

“No we’re not doing this. Ow! Did you just-“ Scanlan bit his hand. The gnome bit his bloody hand! He lets go and shakes the shock more than pain as Scanlan reverts to his flirtatious twat self. What he didn’t expect was for you to step closer and take his hand between both of yours. You inspect the mark, though there barely is any in the first place and chuckle when you bring it to your lips and kiss it gently.

“Better now?” You raise an eyebrow and earn an offended gasp from the gnome. You acknowledge him with a wink and by some miracle catches the hint which adjusts hit attitude.

“I’m sure Vax feels much better now, if only for your presence, hopeless love sick puppy he is. You’re too good for him but okay I’ll relent and sing the songs of the heartbroken.” Vax softly kicks Scanlan as if to say ‘piss off’ and the gnome needs not be told twice but it would not be Scanlan Shorthalt if he did not sing some stupid song to prove a point. While Vax does not doubt your observational skills, he offers you his arm and guides you along the road, away from the singing bastard.

“You don’t think I’m ready for a proper introduction yet? Think I’ll leave a bad impression? Think they won’t approve?” You laugh noting the speed of your walk. Vax slows down and so you do as well. Together arm in arm you walk.

“It’s more I’m afraid you’ll be the one to run after meeting them.” He laughs and pushes aside the visual of you being introduced to his friends; his found family. He’d love to have you there. He’d love for you to meet them and be part of that collective. He’d love to keep you around but he also wants to be careful. He doesn’t want to push you or move too fast. And that aside, it’s probably best to make introductions slowly and one by one because let’s be real, Vox Machina can be a lot to deal with. At least you already know his sister who will definitely be upset with him for hoarding you for himself. She’ll also undoubtedly be looped in my Scanlan and be able to put together the pieces on her own. Another reason he wants to get away from the keep and into Emon proper. Less chances of her hunting the both of you down.

Together you wander the streets, sharing stories from your time apart. Many things have changed, even though it all feels the same, all these things just make him love you more. From the little details about your multiple prison escapes and heists to his mercenary work and dealings with the Slayer’s Take and Myriad. You did give him a good scolding for the latter. He appreciates your care. You point out all the mistakes in your flawed plans that got you caught. You laugh about it too. These stories you share with each other, they only nail home the fact you were able to pick up right where you left off. But for Vax it also leaves a lingering feeling. He’s missed so much, so much he wished he could have been part of. He mourns what could have been. What if you’d joined them? What if you came along on these adventures? Would you have been part of Vox Machina with them now? Would your lives have ended elsewhere? He can’t begin to imagine simply because none of it leads here to the now where you laugh at his poor attempts of a joke, and point out the valuables on some of the rich assholes wandering around claiming you’d do a better job at stealing them than him.

You make it to the market square of the Cloudtop District. The city is lively and bustling. People go about their daily business as much as they are sneaking around. Especially here. The beauty of the upper class district is that it hides many treats of varying kinds from delicious foods to pouches full of coin and jewels aplenty but also the latest gossip and secrets. Now Vax doesn’t care much for the ongoings of the upper class, but he knows you took plenty of joy in it, whether valuable information to sell or exploit or simply because of the sheer ridiculousness of it. He’s had a good laugh with you in the past about the affairs of others and their terrible attempts at hiding them. Here is no different. He watches as your ears perk and your eyes shimmer like those damned gemstones these rich assholes care so much about. Walking by the vendors Vax picks up an array of snacks from savoury to sweet, cold to hot and some drinks too. Arms full you sit down at a bench in the square with perfect view of the people.

“The best places here don’t have the best view for people like us. And I think the food out here is better too. We can go to a place we’d actually fit in after if you want. It’s every bit as rowdy and with plenty of gambling games to go around.” He explains and offers you some candied fruits. Your eyes spark with mischievous glee.

“Well I do love the sound of that.” You pop a piece of fruit in your mouth and inconspicuously point as you lean in closer to whisper. “Lady with the blue scarf.” Vax raises an eyebrow.

“What about her?” Of course you notice something he doesn’t but then he takes a closer look and remembers what you taught him, the things to look out for. Fondly he smiles when he notices the lady’s clothes are plain but too well made for anyone of passible average standards even in this district and the way she moves, how she tries to stay out of sight but can’t be bothered to sneak around because of lack of skill or the mere thought of being spotted by acquaintances. Then he notes she seems particularly friendly with one of the merchants. Stays around and talks far longer than any customer, and wanders to come back around again every so often. Then there’s the way the merchant looks at her. He supposes it must be very much the same way Vax looks at you.

“I think her spouse would pay handsomely for your expertise. Don’t you think?” He bumps your shoulder when you chuckle. You bump back and steal another piece of fruit but right from his grasp this time.

“I was going to eat that.” Vax deadpans with the same fake exasperation he’s only reserved for his sister in the past years. He picks up another piece which you steal too, though you don’t eat it. Instead you bring it to his lips. He gives you a look but obliges and lets you feed the piece to him.

“There there, all is well again. Now we’re even?” You tap his chest and he grabs your hand giving you a look only a thief catching onto a scam could.

“You think stealing my food twice and giving back a piece makes us even?” You fake a pout and you hold each other’s gazes, waiting for the other to relent. You break first.

“Okay okay. Fine. I taught you too well.” You pull back your hand to cross your arms and raise your chin staring out front of you. Vax just kisses your cheek and turns your face back to him. He stares at you and whatever devious little plan you’d been cooking up, the one he can see in your eyes melts away as you just stare at him with such love and affection he cannot begin to fathom. You purse your lips ever so slightly.

“Oh and now you want a kiss too?” Vax’ lips are frustratingly close yet not close enough. He keeps it that way much to your dismay. He’s playing with you. You suppose it’s fair game.

“I can offer compensation.” You speak and the way you say it makes him melt but he doesn’t show it just yet.

“I’m sure we can come to an understanding.” You uncross your arms, and let one hand slide up his chest and rest right over his sternum. “Won’t be cheap.” He adds when you once again try to lean in.

“Name your price.” He doesn’t say another word and simply presses his lips to yours, soft at first in the sweetest most longing kiss you’ve ever had. The kiss turns slightly more feverish until you hear the clearing of some throats and a scoff and you can’t contain your giggles. You lean your forehead against his, cup his face and peck his lips once more.

“So this place you had in mind? Is it less opposed to displays of affection?” You smile and Vax just gets up, offers you his hand and together you leave the Cloudtop far behind, ignorant of the looks you’re getting from the inquisitive assholes. You couldn’t care less and maybe they could learn a thing or two. Social stigmas be damned. You run to the streets onto your next adventure but not without diving into a side alley every so often to catch your breath and share another moment of privacy, as much as one can in Emon that is. Lunch is the furthest thing from your minds. Neither of you can be bothered to care.

#vax’ildan x reader #critical role x reader #vox machina x reader #legend of vox machina x reader #vax x reader #vax'ildan #critical role #vox machina #legend of vox machina #critical role fanfic #critical role fanfiction #tlovm vax

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