#but he can never truly wrap his mind around her own decisions. was it love? was it something else? he’ll never know!

[atopvisenyashill]

listen the whole “ned realizes lyanna was right that rhaegar was the better choice of king” thing is particularly annoying bc like. you’re crazy if u think that’s more emotionally compelling than ned never truly understanding why lyanna did what she did, but his constant talking to her shade does make him realize that his love for robert hasnt even completely blinded him to the sort of man robert is, he’s known all along, but he ignored it bc he simply loved his friend. like how is THAT less compelling than “ned realizes rhaegar was the chosen one all along.”

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable X - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: smut and fluff, pure fluff 

Author’s note: omfg guyssss, I can’t believe this series has come to an end! I had so much fun writing it and I hope y’all had just as much fun reading it! Thanks for all the love and support you guys have given me throughout it all! Hope this is a fitting ending! 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part X: The Finale 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Are you sure about this?”

You looked at Azriel, at the vulnerability in his warm hazel eyes, at the love and adoration they held but the lingering insecurity dampened it just enough that you turned to him fully. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Azriel,” you whispered, gently. 

“I just don’t want you to feel rushed,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to make this decision before you’re ready. I’ve waited five hundred years for you, I can wait more. I can wait until the sun and moon collide, princess, as long as you’ll be mine in the end.” 

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You were standing outside the doors that would lead to the Priestess’ chapel. Just a few steps away from being mated—from being tied together for all of eternity. 

“I’ve waited enough. We’ve waited enough,” you replied. “I want this, Azriel. I want you. I can scream it from the rooftops if you wish. Nothing will change my mind about you.” 

His lips twitched into a smile. “Okay, okay. Then, let’s not keep the Priestess waiting.” 

He pushed open the doors to the chapel, holding them open for you as you strode inside, the small train of your dress trailing behind you as you went. Your mother had sewn you this dress before she died, for this very moment. It was pure white with a long, sheer draping cape covered in silver diamonds. The bodice had a sheer underbust with those same diamonds carefully placed to make a beautiful, intricate pattern. The skirt fell to the floor, shimmering in the faelights of the chapel also covered in diamonds. It was beautiful, truly, and Azriel’s breath had been stolen away the moment he had seen you in it. You looked like the goddess of the moon, herself. 

Your brother, who you allowed to help you get ready since you had decided on a private mating ceremony, had teared up at the sight, himself. Rhysand had given you a loving speech before sending you and Azriel off to your ceremony knowing he wouldn’t see the two of you for at least a few weeks as you would leave immediately after for your mating honeymoon. 

Azriel himself was dressed in all black formal wear, finely made and tailored to his body perfectly. Your mouth had gone dry when he had stepped out of the shadows, his dark hair tousled and looking like a true Angel of Death. The dark side of your moon. 

Standing here now before the Priestess as she read out verses of love and unity, you couldn’t focus on anything but your mate. He stared back at you with the same intensity, his wings held out proudly and his shadows encasing the two of you, swirling around in delight. 

“You may say your vows, now,” the Priestess declared, shutting her book and bringing out the ribbon that was to be tied around your wrists and hands. Azriel held out his hand for you and you took it, holding them up for the Priestess who began to wrap the ribbon around them. 

“I have prayed to the stars every night since the moment I fell in love with you, Azriel, that a day might come where you’d be mine and I’d be yours,” you breathed out. “Despite all that stood between us, the magic that kept you from me all these years, I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant that this was our ending. I will love you until I no longer exist, through death and all that comes after.” 

“There would be no shadow without light,” Azriel whispered, resting his forehead against yours as you stared up at him. “And you have been my light, princess. I live and breathe for you. My body, my soul, my mind, were made to love you and only you. Because you are the light in whose shadows I exist in. You are the guiding star that I will follow until the end of all things. I vow to love and cherish you for all of eternity. Nothing shall keep us apart from this moment on. No magic, no God, no death can separate us. You are mine as I am yours.” 

You blinked the tears in your eyes away as the Priestess finally tied off the ribbon with a smile. “As witness to your love, I bless thee with the sanctity of the Mother and all that is holy. May your love serve as a reminder of the good this world can offer. You may seal your vows with a kiss.” 

And so you did. The kiss Azriel gave you was full of love and passion—a promise to all that he planned to give you. The Priestess held out a small tray with the pastry you had baked for him—a small pear tart that you knew was his favorite sweet treat. She winked as you took it from her before winnowing away to allow you privacy. 

And the Gods knew you’d need it if the heated look Azriel was giving you could be seen from heaven.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You barely made it through the door to the villa the two of you would be staying in for an indefinite amount of time before Azriel’s lips crashed against yours. You met him with the same intensity as he pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his taut body. 

He groaned as you parted your lips for him, allowing him the chance to taste you—to claim your mouth as his. One of his hands stayed against the wall while the other traveled down the length of your body, somehow finding your leg in the mess of your skirt and hooking it around him. 

Still, there were far too many layers between the two of you. Your body was on fire with want, with need. Sparks were igniting in your lower stomach, a terrible ache that only Azriel could soothe was taking over. The mating bond was singing its beautiful tune. 

“Bed,” you managed to mumble out between his kisses. “Now.” 

His shadows encased you once more, taking the two of you to the lush bedroom upstairs. You pushed him towards the bed but he stopped you, pulling away from you as you whined in disapproval. 

“No teasing,” you pouted. 

Azriel grinned. The sight of it was so breathtaking. 

“I assure you, princess, I have no intention other than ravishing you tonight.” 

He twisted you so your back was to him and he gently began to unbutton the bodice of your dress, pressing a kiss each time a new inch of skin was exposed to him. You melted into his delicate touch, allowing him to undress you completely until you were naked before him. 

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he growled against your skin, pressing kisses down the length of your back until he was on his knees. He placed his hands on your bare waist and turned you around to face him, staring up at you with a reverence that had your heart jumping in your chest. 

He kissed your stomach, hugging your body with his arms. You could feel his muscles flexing—his hazel eyes so dilated, they appeared black—and you knew he was holding himself back for a moment. 

“There is no part of you that I am going to leave untouched, princess,” he groaned, his eyes trailing down your body, full of hunger. “Now that I can touch you, I’m going to make you wholly mine.” 

“What are you waiting for?” You whispered, so full of need. Your words had the desired effect, his restraint finally slipping. He pushed you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fell down on the soft cushion, your hair fanning around your head like a halo. 

Azriel rested on his forearms above you, capturing your lips again with a new frenzy that left you panting. A hand slipped underneath your neck, tilting your head back so he could deepen the kiss, caressing your tongue with his. He tasted as good as sin.

His lips began to trail down your throat, sucking on the tender skin and leaving love marks in their wake. Your hands slipped into his hair, fisting his dark locks between your fingers and he continued his path down your body, staying true to his own words that no part of you would go untouched tonight. 

He explored every inch of you, leaving you to moan and squirm underneath him. You arched into his touch, wanting more. So much more. 

“Azriel, please,” you whined as the ache between your legs became unbearable. Azriel looked up at you with his dark eyes from where he had taken your breast into his mouth. 

“Keep begging, princess,” he growled. “You will not rush me.” 

Your head fell back against the pillow as he started his ministrations on your breast again, using his hand to caress the other one. His kisses were soft but his hands were not. Not as they groped and squeezed you with a bruising grip that only heated you further. As if having handfuls of you was simply not enough. 

His mouth traveled down your stomach, licking and biting a path on your skin until he pulled away, standing up at the edge of the bed. You rose onto your elbows, eyes glazed with lust. 

Azriel drank in the sight of you laying bare before him, a muscle in his jaw flexing, his hands itching to touch you again. 

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “My mate. My love. All mine.” 

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, sounding far too needy. “Please, take me.” 

He leaned over, running his hands down the length of your body before he pressed a kiss against your belly again. “My mate.”

Another kiss between your hips. “Mine.”

He fell to his knees, pushing your legs apart so he could kiss the inside of your thigh. “All mine.” 

And then he hooked his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the bed. You let out a gasp, raising onto your elbows again to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee before moving his way up your thigh. 

“I need to taste you, princess.” His voice was a near whine as he left marks all along your leg—sucking and biting. You moaned his name repeatedly, begging and begging him just like he wanted. 

That set him off because a moment later, he was devouring you with a hunger only a mate could have. Your wanton moans had him palming himself through his pants, trying to relieve some pressure. He sucked and licked your core, not stopping until you fell over the edge, his name coming out of your mouth like a prayer.  

You were still coming down from the high as he made his way back up to you, kissing your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. You pulled back, grabbing his face in your hand. Gods, he was so beautiful. Everything about him was so beautiful. 

Your heart fluttered at the love in his eyes, you were smiling without even realizing it. You kissed him as you reached for the buttons on his shirt. “Take this off. Now.”

“Anything for you, princess.” He smiled against your lips and helped you undress him as fast as he could until he was as naked as you. 

You could feel his hard cock pressed against your stomach. 

You ran your hands down his chided chest, raking your nails over his skin. He groaned at your touch and you pressed a kiss to his jaw, his throat, enjoying the noises you were causing him to make. Your hands continued their way down his body until you were about to finally grasp his cock but he grabbed your wrists in one hand and slammed them into the mattress above your head. 

You let out a noise of displeasure.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Azriel groaned. “I need you. Now.” 

You hissed as he took his cock in his hands and lined it up against your entrance. He hovered for a second, glancing at you, seeking permission one last time. 

“Please,” you begged. “Don’t stop.”

Azriel held himself up over you with a hand on either side of your head, lightly brushing his lips against yours. He slowly slid inside of you, inch by inch. Savoring the way you wrapped around him. You groaned, wrapping your hands around his biceps, your nails digging into his skin at the slight pain. 

But the pain was worth the pleasure. Was worth the feeling of your bodies becoming one. You wanted that feeling to never end. 

He stopped once he was buried inside of you, allowing you a moment to adjust as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your skin. “You are mine. My mate, my love.”

“And you are mine,” you whispered back. 

“Until the end,” he agreed. 

He started to move, pulling all the way out and thrusting slowly back in. Azriel let out a curse and bit down on your neck, his canines piercing your skin. He licked the new wound as he pulled back out and thrust again. 

“Gods, please,” you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you. 

“No gods here to beg, princess,”Azriel growled. “Just me.” 

He fully unleashed himself then, his restraint snapping, as he lost himself in the feeling of you wrapped around him. You closed your eyes, melting into the mattress. He took every part of you, claimed every inch of you with him. You weren’t sure where your body ended and his began. 

With every frenzied thrust came a declaration of how much he loved you, how good you felt, how beautiful you looked with him buried inside of you, between his growls of pleasure. You became hyper aware of every brush of his skin, the feeling of his warm breath against your neck. 

The pleasure inside of you grew and grew with every stroke of his cock until his name was slipping from your mouth with a string of curses and pleas. Your hands trailed his body, down his back until you reached his wings. He groaned as your fingertips brushed against the cool membrane, his pace quickening. 

His thrusts grew more frenzied at your touch as the bond shined like starlight between the two of you. It was blinding, all consuming. 

“I love you,” Azriel murmured between his kisses and it was those words that finally sent you over the edge. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, your darkness taking over the room as you reached a high you’d never felt before. 

At the feel of you coming on his cock, tightening and pulsing around him, Azriel fell over the edge right after you with one final thrust, burying himself inside of you as a hot stream of his cum filled you so thoroughly.

Both of you were panting as you came down from that high. Azriel collapsed on the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging you to him. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart that beat to the same rhythm as yours. The same rhythm of your mating bond’s mesmerizing song. 

Azriel lazily ran his hand up and down your spine. His touch was soothing and you never wanted it to stop. Not when you had once been untouchable to him. No, you wanted to feel his skin against yours at every waking moment and you knew he felt the same way by the way he clung to you now. 

“I love you,” you whispered, tracing over his tattoos with a finger. 

“I love you too,” he mumbled into your hair. “You are my everything. I’m never letting you go again now that I have you.” 

“Good,” you smiled, propping yourself up to look at him. “Because I'm never letting you go either.” 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

100 years later

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was warm as you sat cuddled against Azriel, watching your family open their solstice presents. Your hands were intertwined, as they always were since the day the two of you had your mating ceremony. Azriel had never considered himself a publicly affectionate person but after centuries of not being able to touch you, he would never stop now that he could—no matter who was around. 

Rhysand and Feyre sat on a settee across from you guys. Nyx and Selene stood beside them, smiling down at their two younger siblings as they ripped open their presents from them. Cassian and Nesta were on a couch next to them, a bundled up babe held in her arms. 

Mor and Emerie were giggling in the corner together, like they were in their own little world. Elain stood with Lucien, three younglings that shared the same red hair running around her legs with laughter. Even Amren was smiling, sat with Varian. 

You placed a hand on your bulging tummy. You were due any day now with your first babe with your mate. Azriel placed a scarred hand over yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. Azriel’s shadows wrapped around your belly in a protective cocoon of sorts and you batted at them with a huff. 

You had thought your brother had gone overboard with protecting Feyre all the times she was pregnant but Azriel by far took the cake. 

The baby wiggled, causing both of you to gasp lightly at the feel. 

“I can’t wait to hold him,” Azriel murmured to you. “He’s going to be beautiful. Just like you.” 

You smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “I think he’s going to look just like his papa.”

Azriel chuckled, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink. He had been fussing over you and the baby since day one. He had built the entire nursery himself, with his own hands, claiming he didn’t trust anyone else to make things for your child. 

“Either way he’ll be perfect,” Azriel said, kissing the side of your head. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, lovingly rubbing your belly. “He will.” 

And three days later, the next chapter of yours and Azriel’s love story began. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The end. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Taglist:

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[syluslnd]

Hello! I am one of the silent readers I truly adore your writing<3!! I just wanted to ask if you could write about the reader and sylus, reader dealing with eating disorder/,body dysphoria,and just has trouble taking care of themselves, snapping once or twice hurt/comfort, heavy comfort,mentions of psyhical issues,consistent pain and cold as well as Sylus gaining readers trust about this specific thing a bit by bit,and how he would act?? You don't have to take this request if it's too much/too dark,it's just something I have been struggling with!!

when your ed consumes your life but sylus sticks with you through it all

tags-angst with eventual comfort,mentions of calories,tw ed

word count 3.9k

(Note-I’m so sorry you’re struggling with this,I think every person struggling with an ED is worthy of recovery,if you feel like you need to vent you can always reach out to me love xx)

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The restaurant is lavish, the kind of place where every meal comes with an air of sophistication. Sylus is calm as always, seated across from you, his dark eyes scanning the menu with ease. You, however, are tense, heart pounding in your chest. Your hands feel colder than usual as you grip the menu, trying to decipher the options.

No calories listed. Panic flickers in your mind, twisting your stomach. How are you supposed to know what to pick? What if it’s too much? What if you can’t control yourself?

You glance around, catching sight of a girl a few tables over. She’s effortlessly thin, her figure draped perfectly in a sleek black dress. You hate how your mind jumps to her. Look at her arms, you think bitterly. She probably doesn’t even have to try. She’s not bloated. She’s not panicking about what she eats.

You lower your eyes, feeling that familiar rush of shame for even thinking that way, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts. The woman across the restaurant is laughing at something her date said, her hair bouncing as she moves, carefree. You wish you could be like that, but every thought is consumed by numbers. How many calories. How much you can eat without spiraling into guilt. Even your skin feels wrong—too thick , too suffocating. You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling the chill that never really goes away.

Sylus clears his throat softly, his gaze flicking up from the menu. “You decide yet?” His tone is light, relaxed, but his words make your chest tighten.

You shift in your seat, staring at the options, willing yourself to choose something, anything that won’t make you feel sick with guilt later. But every meal feels like a minefield. You glance up at him, trying to hide the unease you know must be showing on your face.

“I’m still looking” you mumble, your voice tight. You hate how strained you sound.

Sylus leans back slightly, his brow arching ever so slightly, though his expression stays calm. “Take your time” he says, still polite, though there’s a subtle suggestion in his voice, like he’s trying to gently push you to make a decision.

Something snaps inside you. “well maybe if you didn’t take me to such an unhealthy restaurant I wouldn’t be struggling with what to choose” The words come out harsher than you intended, the panic in your chest twisting into frustration. You can see the surprise in his eyes but he stays composed, watching you carefully, trying to understand.

You instantly regret it, swallowing down the lump in your throat. He didn’t mean anything by it. You know that. It’s not his fault. But now your chest feels too tight, and the pressure of being here, in this fancy restaurant with all these indulgent options, is overwhelming. You’re suffocating in your own thoughts.

Sylus remains calm, though you can see the flicker of concern behind his steady gaze. “I just thought you’d like it sweetie” he says quietly, his voice smooth, without a hint of anger. “You don’t have to eat anything you don’t want to.”

His words are kind but they only deepen the pit forming in your stomach. You force a small, apologetic smile, trying to smooth things over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it” you murmur, your fingers fiddling with the napkin in your lap.

He nods, and though the moment is awkward, he doesn’t push further, allowing you the space to collect yourself. When the waiter comes by, you order the only thing that feels remotely safe: a Caesar salad, something you know you can control. No dressing, of course and you only plan on picking at it anyway.

When the food arrives, Sylus digs into his meal with an almost graceful ease, cutting his steak neatly, chewing slowly. You watch him for a moment, your mind spinning. How can he just eat like that, so casually, so… politely? Every bite he takes is deliberate, calm. You feel so out of place, like you’re being suffocated by your own fears.

Your salad sits untouched for a while before you finally pick up your fork. The chicken on top looks perfectly cooked but you can’t bring yourself to touch it. Too many calories. Instead, you nibble at the lettuce and croutons, calculating the numbers in your head.

The lettuce is probably only 60 calories. The croutons… maybe 130? You do the math over and over, feeling a mix of disgust and guilt wash over you for even eating that much. It feels like too much. Too indulgent.

Across the table, Sylus glances at your plate, his expression unreadable. “Not hungry?” he asks and his voice is soft, like he’s trying to avoid making you uncomfortable.

You force a smile, pushing the food around your plate. “Just… not much of an appetite today” you lie, hoping he doesn’t press further. But inside, all you can think about is how much you’ve already eaten, how you’ll need to make up for it later. The guilt gnaws at you, making you feel sick.

Sylus doesn’t push but you can feel his eyes on you, watching. It’s like he knows something’s off but doesn’t quite know how to bring it up and as the night drags on, all you can think about is how you’re failing. How every bite feels like a battle you can’t win.

The guilt from last night had been gnawing at you since the moment you woke up. Your mind was set: no food today. No exceptions. The plan felt necessary, like a way to atone for the indulgence you let yourself have. The 60 calories of lettuce, the 130 for the croutons… You couldn’t shake the disgust, the shame for what you ate. Every time you replayed the night in your head, you felt like you’d lost control.

You wrapped yourself tighter in a blanket, your body feeling colder than usual, though it wasn’t even winter yet. The headache from your lack of calories was already starting to throb, but you could deal with that. It was better than the guilt.

Sylus had said he was busy today, so you weren’t expecting any visitors. The day stretched ahead, just you and your plan to fast. But as the afternoon rolled in, the sound of the doorbell echoed through your place. Confused, you hesitated before answering. You weren’t in the mood for visitors. Not today.

Opening the door, you froze in shock. There stood Sylus, dressed in his usual dark, tailored clothes, holding a bag. Your heart sank when you realized what was inside: your favorite candies, the kind that would wreck your fast in an instant. Your pulse quickened, panic swirling in your chest.

“Hey kitten” Sylus greeted, his voice casual but there was an undercurrent of warmth. He gave you a small smile, one that would’ve made you melt on any other day. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

You stared at him, feeling your blood boil. How could he? you thought, anger bubbling up out of nowhere. He didn’t even tell you he was coming over, and worse, he brought food. The sweets you loved, the ones you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. It felt like he was sabotaging you, like he didn’t understand how hard you were trying to control yourself.

Your fists clenched at your sides, and before you could stop yourself, the words snapped out. “Why are you here?” Your voice was sharper than you intended, and Sylus’s brow furrowed, his eyes darkening just slightly at your tone.

“What do you mean sweetie ?” he asked, his voice calm but with that underlying tension. “I brought you these.” He gestured to the bag of candies, the smile still there but faltering as he noticed the shift in your demeanor. “You love these, remember?”

The sight of the bag sent a wave of panic through you. I can’t eat that, your mind screamed. I’ll get fat. I’ll lose control.

Anger surged again but it was tangled with guilt. How could he be so thoughtless? How could he show up with this when you were trying so hard to fast, to make up for the mistakes of yesterday? Your head pounded, the cold feeling in your body clashing with the heat of frustration.

“I can’t” you snapped, taking a step back, shaking your head. “You should go.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. You saw the confusion flicker across his face, followed by a hint of worry.

“What’s going on?” Sylus asked, his voice low, probing, as he stepped forward instead of retreating like you’d demanded. “Why are you pushing me away?” He didn’t raise his voice but the way he said it made your heart clench. He wasn’t one to back down easily, especially not when something was wrong and you knew he could see something was wrong.

“I’m busy, Sylus” you tried to deflect, feeling the walls you were putting up starting to crack. You wanted him to leave but you didn’t. It was confusing, suffocating. You couldn’t handle this. You couldn’t handle him here, with that bag of temptation, ready to ruin everything. You felt so guilty for snapping at him but how could you explain? How could you tell him he was going to make you fat if he kept bringing over food like this?

Sylus’s eyes narrowed just slightly, but his voice remained calm. “Busy with what?” He glanced behind you, then back at your face, studying you, searching for something you weren’t ready to admit. “You haven’t been answering my calls. Now you want me to leave?”

You bit your lip, hating how cornered you felt. The panic was rising again, faster this time, swirling with guilt and anger and all you could think about was how out of control you felt. How could he not see that?

“Just go” you whispered, your voice breaking. The words felt heavy, like they cost you something just to say them. You couldn’t meet his gaze, not with the way he was looking at you, with those dark eyes that always seemed to see more than you wanted to show.

There was a long pause, the air thick with tension. Sylus didn’t move. He didn’t just leave, as much as you’d wanted him to. Instead, he stood there, quiet, and you could feel the weight of his presence pressing in on you. It was suffocating and yet… part of you didn’t want him to go.

After a beat, Sylus sighed, and for a moment, the tension in his expression softened. “You don’t have to talk to me right now” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, his voice softer than before. “But I’m not leaving because you’re pushing me away.”

That made your chest tighten with guilt and you cursed yourself internally. He wasn’t mad but he was concerned, and that made it worse. You didn’t know how to explain. How could you tell him that the sight of that bag in his hand sent you into a spiral of panic, of guilt? That the one thing you feared more than anything was losing control?

“I just… I need space” you said quietly, though the words felt like a lie. You didn’t know what you needed. Sylus watched you for a long moment and finally, he nodded. But before he turned to leave, he set the bag of sweets down on the table by the door.

“If you need me, you know where to find me” he said, his voice steady, though there was something softer in his tone and with that, he walked away, leaving you standing there with the heavy guilt hanging in the air. The bag of candies felt like a cruel reminder of how out of control you felt and though you told him to go, part of you hated that he actually left.

The week of fasting had left you feeling like you were floating through the days, your body running on empty, but your mind clinging to the small sense of control. It wasn’t easy—drinking only tea and coffee, trying to keep that gnawing hunger at bay—but the numbers on the scale kept going down. You were making progress, right?

Today, though, something felt different. The familiar lightheadedness from the fasting had turned into a fog that clouded your thoughts, making everything feel distant. You stared at the zero-sugar creamer you’d added to your coffee earlier, the bitter taste still lingering on your tongue. You told yourself it was fine—it didn’t count. But your stomach churned and the guilt sat heavy inside you.

After ignoring Sylus for a week, you finally sent him a message, apologizing for how you’d acted. You couldn’t let him think you were pulling away because you didn’t care, even though the truth was far more complicated. You needed your space to stick to your plan, to make progress without any distractions. Sylus… he was becoming a distraction.

You agreed to meet him at the arcade, something that felt like a safe, neutral ground. You pulled on a baggy sweater, the oversized fabric hiding the changes your body had gone through over the past week. As you walked toward the meeting spot, the cold autumn air bit at your skin, though it felt like the cold had already been inside you for days.

When you finally spotted Sylus standing by the entrance, his demeanor shifted the moment his eyes landed on you. At first, he didn’t say anything—he rarely did unless he had something important to say—but the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered with something deeper than concern, told you everything you needed to know. Sylus was observant, annoyingly so and you knew he had picked up on the way your skin had lost its color, how your steps seemed a little slower, more deliberate.

“Hey sy” you said, forcing a smile as you approached. Your voice sounded distant, even to you, like it had lost some of its energy. Sylus didn’t smile back, his gaze lingering on your face a little too long, as if searching for something.

“You alright kitten?” he asked, his tone casual, but the undercurrent of worry was unmistakable.

“Yeah, just a little tired” you lied, brushing it off as you led the way inside. You didn’t want to have this conversation. Not here. Not now.

The arcade was loud, full of flashing lights and the constant beeping of games, but even that felt distant through the fog in your brain. Normally, this place was your comfort zone. The claw machine was where you shined and it was always fun to show off in front of Sylus. But today, everything felt off.

You approached the claw machine, the one you usually conquered with ease but your hands felt shaky, your movements slow. Your brain struggled to focus as you pressed the buttons and you missed the toy by a wide margin. You clenched your jaw, frustration bubbling up, but it wasn’t just at the machine—it was at yourself.

“Damn, you’re usually a pro at this” Sylus teased lightly, though there was something off about the way he said it. His eyes hadn’t left you, watching your movements too closely, like he could see through you.

“Guess I’m just off my game today” you muttered, trying to force a laugh, but it sounded hollow.

You tried again, guiding the claw toward another prize, but your hands felt disconnected, like you were moving through water. The world tilted slightly as you leaned closer to the machine and you had to blink several times to steady yourself. Sylus was still watching, his body language casual but his eyes sharp. He could tell something was wrong—he always could.

As the claw dropped and missed the prize again, you felt your frustration spike. You were normally so good at this. Why did everything feel so hard today? You could feel Sylus’s gaze on you, and it made you uneasy. He wasn’t one to pry but you knew he was reading every sign, every small movement.

“You’ve been quiet” he said after a beat, his voice calm but probing. He leaned against the machine next to you, crossing his arms. “Something going on?”

You bit your lip, your brain too foggy to come up with an excuse but you couldn’t tell him the truth either. Not about the fasting. Not about why you looked like this. He wouldn’t understand.

“I’m just tired, Sylus” you said again, more forcefully this time, though it came out weaker than you intended. “That’s all.”

His brow furrowed slightly, his gaze lingering on your face before trailing down to your hands, which were trembling ever so slightly. He didn’t say anything but you could feel the tension between you growing heavier by the second.

You fumbled with the claw machine again, missing the prize for a third time. The frustration built inside you, but it was more than just the game. It was everything. The pressure, the guilt, the fear of losing control. It all felt like it was crashing down on you and Sylus standing there, watching, only made it worse.

Without a word, Sylus reached out, gently taking the control stick from your hands. You blinked in surprise as he smoothly guided the claw toward a prize, his movements precise, controlled. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a small, almost imperceptible softening in his expression.

“Let me help” he said quietly, his voice low, but there was something in his tone—something that told you he wasn’t just talking about the game.

You didn’t protest as the claw machine successfully grabbed a stuffed animal. Sylus handed it to you without a word, his fingers brushing yours for a moment and though you could tell he was trying to keep things light, you could feel the weight of his concern in that small gesture.

Your chest tightened as you looked down at the plush toy in your hands, guilt swirling inside you. You couldn’t hide it forever. Not from him. But for now, you just let the moment hang in the air, trying to hold on to the small flicker of control you had left.

As you and Sylus walked through the noisy arcade, the flashing lights and sounds started to fade into the background. You barely noticed when he steered you toward the bar area, where the bright signs advertised an assortment of sugary treats, slushies, and milkshakes. Normally, you’d have been overwhelmed with excuses, telling him you’d already eaten or that you weren’t hungry, but today… everything just felt so heavy.

Your head swam as you tried to focus, to muster up the energy to protest but your body had other plans. The edges of your vision blurred, and the last thing you remembered was the floor rushing up to meet you before everything went black.

The next time you opened your eyes, you weren’t at the arcade. A bright, sterile light flooded your senses, the sharp scent of antiseptic filling your lungs as you tried to take in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room, lying in a stiff bed with an IV attached to your arm. You blinked, disoriented, your brain sluggishly trying to piece together how you got here.

Then, you saw him.

Sylus sat in a chair by your bedside, his arms crossed, his face clouded with something you couldn’t quite place—worry, maybe? You’d never seen him like this before, his usual cool composure replaced by a tense stillness that made the room feel even colder than it already was.

For a while, he didn’t say anything. The silence between you stretched out, thick and uncomfortable, as you struggled to focus on his expression. Finally, after what felt like forever, he spoke, his voice low, serious in a way you hadn’t heard before.

“The doctors said you’re underweight” he began, his tone careful but firm. “They think you haven’t eaten in days, kitten.”

You felt your stomach twist as his words sank in but your mind was still too foggy, too tired to fully process it. You shifted under the scratchy hospital gown, trying to find something to say, anything to brush off the severity of the situation. It was easier to avoid, to deflect, to act like none of this mattered.

“I’m fine” you mumbled, your voice hoarse and weak. “It’s not a big deal. I was just tired.”

Sylus’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward, his arms still crossed. He wasn’t buying it. You could feel the shift in his demeanor—this wasn’t just concern anymore. This was frustration, mixed with something deeper.

“Kitten, don’t do that” he said, his voice sharper than usual. “Don’t pretend this isn’t serious. You passed out. In front of me. You’re not ‘fine.’ ”

You looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze. Your heart raced, the familiar panic rising in your chest as you tried to push the conversation away but Sylus wasn’t letting it go. He wasn’t his usual teasing, playful self. This time, he was more assertive, his voice carrying an edge you weren’t used to.

“I’m just… not hungry” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s nothing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” His tone was firm but there was a softness behind it—an unspoken plea for you to open up, to let him in. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. He wouldn’t get it. He didn’t have to worry about his body like you did. He didn’t have to restrict, to starve, to be worthy of love.

“You don’t have to diet every second of your life just to be loved” you said a bit more louder than intended, your voice rising with frustration. The words came out before you could stop them and you could see the impact they had on him immediately. His expression darkened but it wasn’t anger—it was something else, something more vulnerable.

His lips parted, his eyes flashing with a mix of emotions before he spoke. “Sweetie, if you keep going like this… you’re going to die.”

The words hung heavy in the air, cutting through the tension like a blade. You felt your chest tighten, your throat constricting as you tried to swallow the lump that had formed there. You knew he was right, deep down, but the thought of stopping, of losing control, terrified you.

“And if I die skinny and beautiful, it’ll be a worthy death” you shot back, your voice shaking with defiance. The moment the words left your mouth, you wished you could take them back. But they hung between you, raw and unfiltered.

Sylus’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from frustration to something deeper—shock, anger, but most of all, sadness. He stared at you, his face softening in a way you had never seen before, the weight of your words hitting him like a punch to the gut.

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. You hadn’t meant to push him away. But the look on his face… it broke something inside of you.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you saw the pain etched across his features, the way his normally composed demeanor had crumbled. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you, his brows drawn together in a mix of anger and heartbreak and for the first time, you saw how deeply he cared—how much he was trying to hold it together, for your sake.

Your lip trembled as you tried to blink away the tears, but they spilled over, hot and fast. “I… I didn’t mean…”

He stood up, moving to sit beside you on the hospital bed, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away the tears. His touch was tender, careful, as if you were fragile. And in that moment, you realized how broken you really felt.

“I’m not letting you do this to yourself” he said softly, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Not anymore, kitten. You’re not alone in this. I’m not going to lose you.”

[shirefantasies]

Of Kings and Queens (F!Reader)

What is it like to be wife of the kings of Middle Earth, you ask?

Théoden

✧ You are his rock, reassuring him that the best thing he could give you is his heart, the very thing you have held for years. Still he has the best of everything he can have made for you and surprises you with trails of wildflowers just as he did when you were young and first in love, all to show his unending gratitude.

✧ A man in every sense, Théoden lives to ease your days, offering you his arm for the warmth, safety and stability of a walk. Any time your joined steps decline to a staircase or any other obstacle, your husband has a hand at the ready, the other resting gently against your hip. At the first sign of danger his arm will be outstretched across you, placing himself between you and the threat.

✧ He remembers the day he first took you to the stables, the way you extended a hand toward his horse hesitantly only for your eyes to light up like fabled fireworks when you made contact with him, creations a unity of new and old yet all magic. You were happy to follow Théoden's lead, wrapping your arms tightly around him as he guided your shared mount in a trot over green fields and toward the hills, air rushing through helmet and hair with speed gained. The sound of it paling in comparison to the music of your laugh, joyful freedom ringing out into the sunlit air.

✧ Always whispering praises between kisses, his breath tickling your shoulder, neck, right along the shell of your ear as he travels, telling you a different attribute, quality, or even part of your body he loves until he has praised all of you. Théoden realizes he does not always speak his feelings, share enough of his most vulnerable thoughts, but alone as he nuzzles against your skin he breaks down and the words tumble from him like a waterfall.

✧ Never will you bear a burden alone; not only is Théoden’s shoulder forever yours to lean on, but your husband, your king, insists on carrying the heaviest things for you. Even after a simple day on the market, he takes the basket from your hands. Even if you giggle and tell him you can take it, your heart warms every time, knowing he truly does not wish to see you struggle.

Aragorn

✧ Beyond all the rich things he could give you simply by means, Aragorn looks to your heart in all matters. His gifts to you will only be of fine shining things if that is what you wish, but if you, like him, value sentiment and a hint of practicality, you will find everything at your disposal toward the pursuits you love and the memories you hold dearest.

✧ Cannot get enough of the feeling of your skin upon his. Affectionately brushes his hand along the curve of your cheekbone, reaches a hand out to take yours, and breaks into a wide smile when he feels your leg hook his beneath a table. Trailing his touch up and down its surface absentmindedly. When you stroll side by side, it will be with Aragorn’s arm about your waist or hand in yours.

✧ There need not be any more than your simple presence for him to be happy. The sight of you beckoning him from your chaise, your smile as he complies, crossing the room to recline at your side, enjoy the music of your giggle as he runs a hand softly over your hair and inquires as to your thoughts in this beautiful moment.

✧ Nary makes a decision without weighing your words among all others. His love for you extends to your mind, the heart you have for those around you, all the qualities that make you an excellent queen as well as wife. Firm is Aragorn's belief that a queen is far more than an accessory to the king, but a ruler in her own right whom he would trust with his kingdom in any time of strife. His actions alongside his words of trust and praise remind you of this truth each and every day of your shared reign.

✧ Aragorn is always behind you to lace your dress and shoes, his hands so gentle as they work the ties and brush against your skin, caressing your hair or cheek as he finishes.

Thranduil

✧ Even beyond the feeling that he must grant you kingly gifts, he desires it greatly- both for the pleasure of seeing you dripping with silver that shines almost as bright as your eyes and also as any small token, for you deserve the stars themselves and Thranduil would gift you those if he could.

✧ Guides you with a hand about your waist whenever you walk together, not for any lack of trust but simply the way he can revel in your presence. Show you off. You are the most beautiful accessory he could ask for and so much more. A gem in far more respects than those of the earth.

✧ Thranduil takes interest in anything that you do, throwing himself into your passions with nearly as much fervor as your own. Be it writing, sewing, blacksmithing, pottery, the crafting of fine accessories, you say the word. At the king’s word, you will have a desk, workbench, wheel, or forge set up in your name, all the ink or steel or fabrics or clay you could desire, and of course your husband will be there at your side. Whether years of some royal training have already made an expert of him or his hands are virgin to your craft, Thranduil insists on lessons from you and the chance for your hands to come together as one just as your hearts, creating a thing of beauty together.

✧ Defends any slight or insult directed your way with such venom, it as as though the words address him. Which they do, as Thranduil professes to you afterward- the safety of your body, your heart, your mind, weigh upon him just as much as, if not more than, those of his own. You are the greatest sum, the greatest part of his whole. Just as he tells you, Thranduil proudly tells all.

✧ It had been an offhand comment, just a note of a day whose heat had ballooned your stress and ached your muscles. Continuing your tasks, you all but forgot you had even spoken it until Thranduil led you by the hand to your special little hollow where he had drawn a bath. Dripping fine oils into the water to send fragrance spiraling into the steamy haze, rings drifting out from each droplet and faintly disturbing the flowers floating on the water’s surface. So beautiful and all for you, he reminds you as he helps you undress and lower into the water with him.

Thorin

✧ No improvements can be made to the divine gift that is your body, the eyes that look upon Thorin with such love and devotion, and yet his heart swells whenever he sees you clad in the finery of his people, silken threads he commissioned just for you and jewels to symbolize every memory and passion you share: a secret language just for you two.

✧ Reserved as he is with his touches in public, keeping a hand in yours or gently upon your shoulder in times of needed protection or comfort, Thorin worships your form when only your eyes are upon him, yours and the stars and perhaps the Valar, who he suspects would even envy the way his hands trace over your warm, heavenly curves.

✧ At first he is reluctant to let you into the forges, the heat and smiths' sweat and harsh strikes of hammers falling upon steel. But was your position not a testament to your resilience, the love you showed an imperfect king day after day not a sign or strength untold, and did glimpses of you on the battlefield that Thorin would hold in his mind for eternity not capture your will? Soon you are his smithing apprentice, your smile at his side worth any risk it could serve to you.

✧ His favorite tales to tell young ones are those of you, the moment he realized you were his One, recounting times that his life was saved by you, of how his stubbornest of hearts was touched by love even more headstrong and open. Thorin is always there in your most vulnerable moments, wiping your tears, caressing your cheek and resting his forehead against yours as he whispers the perfect antidote to the poisons of your mind or others' words.

✧ Thorin listened intently when you lamented your favorite necklace breaking, how you thought it was going to last longer. He said little, did not offer a replacement, anything. Not three days later your prized jewelry lay upon your armoire, strong as if new again.

Bard

✧ He hadn’t wanted to be king. Not at first. You yourself had all but laughed at the prospect of being a queen, yet that was what suited you so well to the role. Over the years, Bard has felt the shift, the changing from practical gifts like the new apron he’d had made for you to things he’d once believed to be outside of your means. Things he always felt you deserved, but now can give you. Pretty necklaces befitting the queen you always were in your husband’s eyes.

✧ Bard’s hand upon you is often protective, the grip of your fingers being tightly woven into his to keep you close in a crowd or a hand resting gently against your shoulder when he, as if with a sixth sense, detects a spike of anxiety threatening to pierce your chest. He will be your shield as often as he can be, your comfort as his thumb gently draws circles on the back of your hand or along your shoulder blade.

✧ Forever it will be one of your memories the way your husband took you out one day upon the lake, paddling you out beneath the night sky, candles lit in jars he had cleaned and a meal packed in your basket. How Bard had managed to keep the soup so warm beneath the lake's winds you did not know nor question, not when your mug of it felt so warm beneath your hands and your husband's gleaming brown eyes fixed upon you so, encouraging you to join him in a kiss over the steam and beneath the canopy of the Valar's glittering blessings to your sky.

✧ Straight as his arrows did your husband’s words fly. Your virtues are as facts to him, stated as things beyond question.

✧ Sometimes it seems that Bard could fix anything. Be his feats replacing corset boning or tightening wardrobe knobs, you rarely go without with Bard by your side. For too long, after all, did his own family endure such. The one gratitude Bard feels in that being the ingenuity he has developed, the way he can silently aid his loved ones and make things last.

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[kissagii]

Your brothers are dumb, but Isagi is always your number one fan.

cw: gender neutral reader, 2.4k words, reader is rin & sae's musically gifted sibling, silly isagi, obscene amounts of pining, i don't know how music competitions work lol

@celestair it's here!!!! thank you so much for the fabulous prompt <3

“So, you’re on next, how do you feel?” Your friend Yuki asks, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. The performer before you is wrapping up his piece, and your turn on stage is approaching far too quickly.

“Were they there?” You whisper, completely ignoring her question. 

“Didn’t see ‘em,” Yuki sighs, “But hey, you can’t see anything from up on that stage, don’t give up just yet.”

Despite her attempts at encouragement, you both know the truth. They aren’t there. They never are. Even now, as you prepare to step onstage in the final round of a national piano competition, your two soccer-obsessed brothers are nowhere to be found. You should’ve expected that from the start when the most they could offer to your invitation was “ok.” 

How many soccer games have you attended by now? How many hours have you spent in the sweltering heat, watching your brothers run up and down a field kicking a ball around? And despite all that, they have yet to deem one of your music events as worth their time. You’re half sure the reason they neglected to arrive was because neither one would be caught dead sitting in the same room as the other. It’s always a competition with those two – a test to see who could be the better soccer player, the worse brother – and you’re simply caught in the crossfire as you pursue your own wholly different passions. 

But now, unfortunately, there’s only one thing to do: go out on stage, play your heart out, and hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a scrap of recognition from one of the fools who shared your last name. 

“Break a leg. And don’t let your shitty brothers get to you,” Yuki says, nudging you out onto the stage as the previous performer exited past you.

When you walk onstage there is no announcement of your name, no applause. There never is. Just a silence so thick it could be cut with a knife as the audience watches with judging eyes, anticipating eyes, and… hopeful eyes? The stage feels different today, fresh and pleasantly cool, as if the crushing expectations are lifted ever so slightly.

Then you see him. It’s just a glance, an impression of an individual, a hint of green and black in your periphery. But when he sees you it’s earth-shattering. He can breathe again – but only one barely-muffled gasp, because you’re quick to steal the air from his lungs as his heart begins to inexplicably race. Isagi has been in the same audience seat many times by now – the same seat every time, for his favorite view – yet every time he sees you walk out onto that stage it’s like rebirth, a preparation for the waves of joy and sadness and admiration and, dare he say it, love, that would wash over him as you played. All he has to hope is that you know he’s there, watching like he always is. And for the first time, you know – you deeply, truly, know – someone is out there watching you.

For this competition, you chose Liszt’s Un Sospiro. After mastering the technique, you spent hours of practice imbuing the piece with a thousand emotions, a thousand ways to sigh, and yet none of them felt quite right. So in the ten seconds before your fingers hit the keys, you have a decision to make.

Yoichi.

Of course, how could you forget? 

Without a moment’s hesitation, you begin to play, the notes dancing with the image in your mind. Simply the thought of him makes your heart race in time with the arpeggios, your measured breaths falling out of time as you let the music wash over you. The emotion flows so naturally you’re not sure if you’re pushing them into the music or if the music is pulling them out of you, a different one for each phrase, the joy and fear and longing and hope and desperation. You could practically see them, figures of light in every color dancing together across the stage and out into the audience, seeking out their target. 

They more than find their target: they crash into him like unceasing waves. Each one slightly different than the last, yet all so familiar; a language without words, yet each phrase he understands clearly. 

Is it five minutes, one, or thirty? Time begins to blur, everything fading to soft pink and green and orange and blue, colors and sounds existing independently of earthly constraints. It’s transcendental, almost, the room immersed in a lovestruck state of reverie until the final notes echo through the auditorium.  

By the end of the piece his chest is aching, and yours is aching too. The exhilaration hardly makes sense – were you not full of worry only minutes ago? Or had it been an eternity since anything other than Yoichi was on your mind? Adrenaline pulsing through your veins makes your head spin as you attempt to process your own performance. Oh, how unreal it felt. It had been a long time since you last felt so moved by your own playing… yes, truly a long time. 

The audience applauds with the required politeness, if not a bit louder than usual. None of it falls on your ears, though. You’re too busy staring at Isagi’s distant face as he gazes back at you with sparkling cobalt eyes. He nearly forgets to clap, sitting so unblinkingly still that those in the seats next to him wonder if he’s alright. He’s more than alright – his mind is racing in the same way it does when he scores a goal, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control he has to keep him from running to you now. 

As soon as you’re backstage, Yuki barrels into you, earning a few miffed glares from the last few performers preparing to go on. “Oh my god, that was amazing!” She whisper-yells, “I’ve never heard you play like that! See, I knew you’d do just fine without them in the audience.” 

Right. Them. You had forgotten about them while onstage. 

“I think I’ve found someone else worth playing for,” You murmur, half to yourself. For the first time, you didn’t really mind that your brothers hadn’t been there. Of course, it would’ve been nice, but without them… without them, you had made magic. You can make magic.

Yuki smiles brightly, the way she always does. “You’ve gotta tell me everything. And quickly, so as soon as this shindig is over you can head out and see your loverboy.”

“How’d you know that’s what it was?”

“Trust me, it was obvious. I’m pretty sure everyone knew.”

So, of course, you tell her everything. And as soon as the final round of applause echoes down the hallway, you’re getting pushed toward the door, standing nervously in the auditorium lobby until a familiar face emerges from the exit doors.

You see him first, which means you get to watch in real-time as he sees you and immediately lights up like a kid in a candy store. It’s his third epiphany of the day, and the only thing he can think to do is run toward you, frantically apologizing to strangers as he weaves through the crowd. Before you can even greet him or thank him for coming, he thrusts a large bouquet of flowers into your hands.

“You did amazing! Your music is like magic and I think I might be in love with you!” Isagi blurts out.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, that was probably tactless. No, it was definitely tactless. I’m sorry. It’s just, I saw you up there and I heard you play and it was like the music was talking to me and it was saying, oh, by the way, you have feelings for them and it’s actually ridiculous that you didn’t notice earlier because you’re absolutely whipped, y’know? Is that weird?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his unrestrained reaction, the genuineness in his tone. “No, it’s not weird at all.”

“It’s not?” He asks, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Of course not. It means you heard what I was trying to tell you.”

It’s his turn to be surprised, and he lets out a soft, confused, “Eh?”

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to confess to you directly, so I did it the only way I knew how. Yoichi, will you go out with me?” 

“Yes! Absolutely!” He beams, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile before; little wrinkles appear next to his eyes and his slightly crooked teeth are on full display. Shyly, he asks: “Could I hug you?”

“Please do,” you say, opening your arms to let him wrap his tightly around you. For a moment you stand in silence (not true silence, of course, because the room is full of people) and feel his heartbeat hammering against your chest. He feels your heartbeat too, he swears he can hear it over the noise.

“Thank you for coming, Yoichi,” You whisper, gripping the flower bouquet tightly, “It means a lot to me that you could be here.”

He hugs you tighter, so tight it feels like your ribs might crack in his grip. “Of course. You always come to my big games, there’s no way I’d let myself miss one of your big events. Speaking of that, do you know when the results come out?”

Though you’d like to keep hugging him forever, you let go and check the time.

“They’ll let us back into the auditorium in an hour, though they never seem to announce the winners on time.”

“In that case, can I take you out on a date while we wait? Unless you already made plans to wait with someone else… ahh, I really should’ve thought this out more.” Isagi scratches the back of his neck with an awkward smile, a nervous habit of his that never seems to lose its charm.

“Oh, no, I don’t have plans. I’m sure Yuki’s already gone off with her boyfriend, and you’re the only person I really know who showed up to watch. Spending the hour with you is a serious step up from waiting alone.” 

“Let’s go then! There’s a cute café just down the road if you’re hungry, or we could go walk around the mall if you’d prefer.” 

Isagi lets you lead for the hour, making it a bit of an early celebration. Because while the results aren’t out just yet, he’s entirely sure that your performance is worth a hundred gold medals and more. Anything you want to do is good enough for him, even if it’s something as simple as window shopping in formal wear, and he does everything in his power to make sure he’s the best new boyfriend possible. After all, he’s won at life, hasn’t he? Because now he gets to date you – he gets to give you flowers and cheer for you and hold your hand and make you smile. 

As you sit in the adjacent seats waiting for the results to be announced, he rubs his finger affectionately over your thumb. 

“See, I told you they’d start late,” You whisper with a laugh.

“They must’ve realized their trophy wasn’t big enough to properly congratulate you,” He whispers back.

“Hey, don’t say things like that! I haven’t won yet.” 

“I don’t think you witnessed yourself perform. You did amazing.”

“And you’re not a musician, so you’re not qualified to decide who won.”

“Even an untrained ear can tell you were the best up there. Trust me.”

Before you can come up with a witty reply, the head judge steps up to the podium on stage, holding a single sheet of paper in her hand. She gives a short speech – something about appreciating the hard work of the competitors – but neither you nor Isagi hear half of what she says. The room is silent waiting for the top three to be announced. 

“In third place,” The Judge calmly says into the microphone, “Matsuoka Yuki.”

Immediately you burst into cheers, hastily untangling your hand from Isagi’s so you can applaud your friend. Her performance had been stunning, and she’s more than deserving of the prestigious accomplishment. 

“In second place,” The Judge continues, once the applause quiets down, “Watanabe Shigeru.”

Another talented performer, of course. He had won his fair share of competitions, and the two of you had stood together on the winner’s stage more than once. As soon as you finish applauding, Isagi grabs your hand and squeezes tightly, as if to say the Judge will call your name next, I just know she will.

The moment you spent months waiting for is here. Either your hours of rehearsal and stress and aching hands paid off, or they didn’t. And the only thing between you and knowing was one sentence from the Head Judge’s mouth.

“Finally, in first place, winner of the Japan National Piano Competition, Itoshi Y/n.”

I’ve won. It’s as if you’re up on that stage once more, the way that the room explodes into applause like thunder. Isagi is shouting and shaking you by the shoulders – he really couldn’t be prouder of you. He knew all along, it seems, that your indirect confession was worth a gold medal from the organization and a thousand more in his heart.

The head judge invites the winners up to the stage, and Isagi nearly pushes you out of your seat to receive your award. Yuki meets you onstage, whispering her polite but excited congratulations to you. You return them hurriedly before taking your place on stage to be presented with your trophy. The process of handshakes and photographs feels like it takes forever when all you and Isagi want is to spend the rest of the afternoon together in celebration. 

Isagi meets you in the auditorium lobby again, and he presents you with the same bouquet of flowers a second time. “You won! You actually won! I’m so proud of you!” 

“Thank you, Yoichi,” You say, grasping his hand with your free one, “Thank you for being here to inspire me. Now c’mon, let’s go celebrate!”

The rest of the afternoon is blissful, almost unreal, just you and Isagi enjoying the sweetness of victory and love. When your phone begins receiving text message after text message you can hardly be bothered to reply immediately, even when you get the message you nearly spent the whole day waiting for.

rin: good job on the competition or wtv

isagi 💚

[absolutewhore101]

can i request some fluff with ashton, reader being sad cuz they're being excluded from a friend group but ash comforts her to make her feel less alone? <3

Less Alone

A/N: hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x GN!Reader

Summary: Ash makes you feel less alone when your friends are less than stellar

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: some swearing, shitty friends

Minors DNI

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

You should’ve known. Your whole life, you’d been the one left out of parties, or plans, or group trips, hell even group chats. You were just never included. 

And you’d learned to cope - got used to being alone. And eventually, it stopped hurting so much. You were comfortable in your own presence and spending time with yourself, and then, you didn’t have to be. Because you had Ashton. 

Ashton was the one person in your life who made you feel included in every possible aspect. He asked for your opinion on everything from his shoes to new music he was working on. And he never made a decision without your input, even if it was just what you were having for dinner or what movie to watch. 

But you still had other friends. A whole group of them, actually. Rosie, Liam, and Ollie. The four of you did just about everything together, and for the first time, you felt truly included in a group. 

You went out to eat at least twice a week, constantly messaged in the group chat, and even had plans to take a trip in a few weeks. It was new territory, for sure, but you were having so much fun navigating it that you didn’t mind. 

Until, of course, the inevitable happened. 

It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. At least that’s what you’d been telling yourself. All they did was go out to eat without you. At your favorite restaurant. In the middle of the worst week of your life - which they were all well aware of. 

It has to be me. Otherwise it wouldn’t keep happening.

You stared at your phone, the picture of the three of them smiling back at you doing nothing to cheer you up. Ashton was still at the studio, he’d called you earlier to let you know that he’d be home a little later that night, so you were left to deal with this entirely on your own. 

You texted the group chat, doing your best to pretend you had no idea where they were. 

Hey, guys! I’ve got a bit of free time, anyone wanna come over for a little while???

Rosie: Sorry, hun! I’m all tangled up at the office right now, big project coming up

Liam: Yeah, I’m currently on a hike with a few friends, and we’re not gonna be back anytime soon

Ollie: I’d love to if I wasn’t walking into the gym as we speak. Sry luv :( 

So now they weren’t just excluding you, they were lying straight to your face about it. You felt a tear roll down your cheek and you immediately wiped it away, doing your best to pretend like this had absolutely no effect on you. 

But soon enough, you couldn’t hold them in. They fell and fell and fell until you heard the door open. 

“I’m home, sweets! Thought we could try that new Thai restaurant for dinner if your up for-” 

He cut himself off at the sight of your tears. 

“Hey, honey, what’s going on?” He asked, sitting down next to you. You wrapped yourself around him, burying your face into his chest as you cried. 

“I don’t know why it happens every time, Ash, but it does. It has to be me. I have to be the one pushing them away or something.” You complained. 

Ashton was confused until he caught sight of your phone lying face up on the couch next to him. He took in what he was seeing and immediately understood. 

“Oh, dove, it’s not you. You just happen to find the shittiest people on the planet.” He said, attempting to comfort you. It helped to some measure because he felt more than heard you let out a giggle. 

“They’re not shitty people.” You commented. 

“Yeah, well, either way, fuck them. It’ll just be you and I tonight, alright?” You nodded against his chest, pulling back to look up at him. 

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.” You mumbled. 

“Anything for you.”

A few minutes later, Ash was ordering takeout while you were debating what movie to watch. 

“Babe, do you want to watch Coraline or Pride and Prejudice?” You asked when he walked back into the room. 

“Oh, Coraline, for sure.” He responded. 

You laughed, clicking on the movie but pausing it before it started. 

“Food should be here in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect.” You grabbed his hand, dragging him upstairs and into the master bathroom. 

He watched as you dug through one of your drawers, eventually pulling out two face masks. 

“Yes.” He said before you could get a word out. “100% yes.”

You smiled, placing one package down on the counter before opening the other one, gingerly applying it to Ashton’s face.

“Well don’t you look so handsome?” You playfully teased, smoothing out a wrinkle with your finger. 

“I should hope so.” He said, admiring himself in the mirror. You hopped up onto the counter, watching as he opened the second one and put it on your face this time. 

“How long do we leave these on for?” He asked you, picking up the empty package. 

“Um, probably about 15 minutes.” You responded. He nodded, and the two of you made your way back downstairs. 

15 minutes later, the masks were taken off, just a few moments before the doorbell rang to signify the arrival of your dinner. 

You made yourself comfortable on the couch as Ashton got the food, admiring him as he walked into the living room. 

“Are you looking at me like that because I have food?” He playfully asked you.

You shook your head. 

“I’m looking at you like that because I love you and I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

His face flushed, and he smiled as he set down the food. He walked around the coffee table, crouching down in front of where you were sitting on the couch. 

“I’d do this for you even if you weren’t having a tough week. I’d do whatever you asked of me whenever you asked me to. I love you so much, sweets, and all I want in this world is to make you as happy as I possibly can.”

You were crying for the second time that night, but (thankfully) for a much different reason. You leaned forward, connecting your lips once again, trying to convey as much love as you could through the kiss. 

When you pulled away, Ashton pressed a quick kiss to your nose.

“Now, how about we eat some food and watch a movie and pretend like none of that bad stuff ever happened?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

[annabawritersdream]

I WILL ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

GLOSSARY (VALARIN)

Valide: Mother.

Aslanim/Aslan Parçam: My little lion cub (literal), sweetheart, my boy (any endearment you can think of. It only applies to boys though, not to little girls).

Ne olur: please.

Benim aslan oğlum: My little lion of a son (literal) see right above.

Iyi Geceler: Good night.

Emredersiniz: As you wish/as you command.

"Valide?"

Elenna turned and her lips instantly curved into a smile. "My Mírion. Aslanım. Come."

She picked him up and held him close. "You are getting so big. It is hard for me to hug you like I once did. You are too tall."

The child wrapped his arms around her neck, his cute little face partially covered by his tousled hair.

"Do not be sad, Mamma. I will always love and care for you. You are right though, I am no longer a little boy. I started my training today and Father was very impressed. He handed me a wooden dagger and taught me how to hold it." He sighed. "He was very patient with me, but I do not understand why Papa would have me practice with a wooden weapon. Everyone else practices with real swords and daggers."

"You should not question your father's decisions, aslanım."

"I did not say anything to him, Mamma," Mírion retorted. "I knew you would not approve so I refrained from making any comments. But I will not deny I was disappointed. I thought Papa would have me use a real dagger. I thought I was trustworthy enough to deserve it. I thought I would have my own sword. Anárion was gifted his very own last year, why can I not have one? Is it because I have been a bad boy?"

"No, my sunshine, of course not." Elenna kissed the top of his head. "How can you even entertain so silly a notion? You are your father's heir; you had better remember it."

"Does that mean I can do no wrong ever?"

Elenna smiled. "It means you will be a commander of Maiar one day."

Mírion frowned. "I do not think I want to be Papa's heir."

"Why would you say that, aslanım?"

"Papa has to die in order for me to become his heir. I don't want papa to die, it is not fair. He can't die."

"Worry not, my sunshine. It will not come to pass, I promise. Your father will always be by your side."

"Can you stay forever as well?"

The former lady of Ithilien gulped, her heartbeat quickening. "I am not sure it is allowed."

Mírion's eyes widened as he straightened up. "Why!?"

He kissed his forehead and sat on her armchair, rocking him gently. "Shush, aslanım, shush. Do not despair. I will never leave you. My love will never leave you, aslanim. Do you know why?

"I think so."

"Do tell me, then."

"I am bound to you. You are a part of me and you will always be in my mind and in my heart."

"That is right, benim aslan oğlum. We will never be parted, you and I."

The child nodded and yawned.

"Are you tired?"

"A little."

"Would you like me to tuck you in?"

Mírion shook his head. "Can you sing something?"

"Of course, aslanim, but...your father is usually the one who..."

"I like your singing voice very much, Mamma. Sing something for me, ne olur."

"What would you like me to sing?"

"It is up to you. You decide."

"I..."

"Mamma?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? If you wish to rest, I can go to my room. I can do without the singing if you don't..."

"My beautiful boy, you do know there is nothing I would deny you, do you not?"

"You said it so many times. Yet, I do not want to upset you. You look sad."

"I am not sad, Mírion."

"Am I hurting you? It has been so long since I sat on your lap and I imagine I am a lot heavier now."

"Do not be ridiculous, aslanim. You could never hurt me or upset me."

Mírion looked at her pensively. "Am I going to have another sibling?"

"What makes you think that?"

Mírion jumped off her lap, his eyes now fixed on her midsection. "Could you stand up?"

Elenna nodded.

"Turn to the side."

The former lady of Ithilien did as she was asked and stood still for a few minutes as her son stared at her, his arms folded. He truly was the spitting image of his father.

"There, I see it."

"What is it that you see, my child?"

"Your stomach looks..."

"Fat?"

"Pillowy. I do not know what the right word is, but i could tell the difference when you hugged me. It felt much...softer. Again, I do not know whether that is the right word."

Elenna smiled and took a deep breath.

"Am I right?" He insisted. "Am I going to have another sibling?"

Elenna exhaled as her hand went to her belly. "You are, aslanım."

He ran to her and hugged her. "May I touch it?"

"Go ahead."

Mírion hesitantly placed a hand on his mother's belly and retracted it almost immediately. "I do not feel anything. It is odd."

"He or she is still too small to move,but I can assure you that you will have another sibling in a few months."

"Are you hoping for another boy?"

"What about you? What do you hope for?"

"I would like to have a baby brother. Girls are a handful and want to draw all the time. I tried to talk Wyn into practicing with a sword, but she wouldn't listen to me. I had to help her fold her dresses and it was so boring. I am glad she likes the dress I gave her as a birthday present. She wears it nearly everyday, much to Esme's dismay."

"It is a way to show you how much she loves you."

Mírion pressed his lips into a thin line. "She asked me about you. She constantly asks about you, Mamma. She would like you to visit her and wonders why you never do so. Are you scared of her, perhaps?"

"No, of course not. I..."

Mírion glanced at her. "What is it?"

"Does her constant blabbering displease you? Is that why you never spend time with her?"

"That is not it, Mírion. I..."

"Mamma? What is it?"

"I think I need to lie down."

Mírion's eyes remained fixed on her. "Are you alright?"

He stiffened, his palms now clammy. "Should I send for someone?"

"No, there's no need." She attempted at a smile. "There is no need, my boy."

"What can I do?"

He held her by her arm trying to steady her. "I don't think you will able to make it to your bed without tripping. I could take you there myself, but I don't think I am strong enough yet. We would probably end up getting hurt and it would make matters worse. Is the baby fine, do you reckon?"

Elenna nodded before she lost her footing and fell forward. Mírion yelled as she held onto him, his hands instinctively reaching for her waist. He did not know what needed to be done, but he decided to trust his instincts. He wrapped his arm around her waist and allowed her to fully lean on him.

"Mamma!?"

"I am fine, my sunshine. We are both fine."

"What else can I do? What must I do?"

"Nárael should be in her room next to my chambers. Fetch her if you can."

"Will she hear me from here? I won't leave you alone." He was shaking. "Where is everybody else? Handalimë, Elenya..."

"I sent them off. They deserve some much needed rest."

"Are they not supposed to serve you though? Should they not be with you at all times?"

"They are not required to be around me every day." She breathed in. "Do not call for Nárael. I changed my mind, leave her be. I feel much better already."

"Do you? Can you stand?"

"I might as well try."

"Do you need help?"

She caressed his cheek. "No, sunshine. I can do it on my own."

"Try to sit up first. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

Mírion turned away and rushed to her desk. He filled a cup with water and ran back to his mother. She took it and gulped it down. "Thank you."

"Would you like more?"

"There is no need. I will get up now."

She slowly rose to her feet, Mírion holding her. He had her sit on her armchair until she was well enough to walk to the bed. There she sat and took several deep breaths while Mírion cleaned the now empty cup and placed it back on her desk. He turned to his mother and smiled at her. Elenna's eyes filled with unshed tears as she mentally thanked Eru for blessing her with such a caring, dutiful son.

"You did not have to do that, aslanim. I was going to have the maids tidy the room tomorrow."

"It really is no bother. Papa has all his soldiers wash their own tabards and polish their own armors. I suppose I will have to learn as well and cleaning a cup is a menial task. To this regard, I would like to be in charge of my own chambers from now on. I meant to speak to you about before..."

He lowered his gaze. "Does it happen often?"

"It occurs on occasion, that is all."

"Why does it happen, Mamma?"

"It is nothing worth losing sleep over, my sweet boy. I simply get tired."

"I get tired too, but I have never fallen that way. It looks scary."

"It is not scary at all, aslan parçam."

He sat next to her. "It might be dangerous for you and the baby."

"You sound exactly like your father."

"I am certain he would agree with me. Does he know about the baby?"

"I have not told him yet."

"How come?"

Elenna bit her inner cheek. "I..."

Mírion took her hand. "Are you afraid?"

Elenna pursed her lips and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Don't concern yourself with such matters." She ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair. "You are still so young..."

"I will help you if I can."

He noticed a lonely tear rolling down her cheek. "Are you crying, Mamma?"

"No, my boy."

"I saw you..."

"Shush, oğlum. I am fine."

"Is the baby alright?"

"Of course. Would you like to say goodnight? You look exhausted, aslanım."

"I think I will go to sleep. I have my training tomorrow. Papa says we will we practice every day." He pulled his mother close and kissed her stomach. "Sleep well, baby brother...or sister." He paused. "Please be a brother. I will teach you swordfighting and we will have fun."

He smiled. "İyi geceler, Valide."

"Good night to you, my boy. I will rest a little as well. Would you still like me to sing to you?"

Mírion nodded. "Mamma?"

"Yes?"

"Will you visit Wyn? She really wants to see you."

"I..."

"I will come with you. We can visit her together sometime this week."

"I suppose it could be arranged."

"She will be very happy."

"I know," she clung to him. "I know."

"Thank you, Mamma." He yawned. "Could you sing that lullaby Papa used to hum all the time? The one Wyn liked."

"I cannot seem to remember how it goes. I do recall the melody, but the words do elude me at the moment."

"Oh, it is something along the lines of..."

He focused, his gray eyes glinting. "Nenni Desem Uyurm'ola..."

Elenna raised an eyebrow. "I do not know this lullaby."

"Papa sang it every night when we couldn't sleep."

"I do not think I know the words to it. I am sorry, aslanim."

"I can sing it to you, Mamma, don't worry," he readily quipped before he lightly tapped on her belly. "And to you, too."

He cleared his throat. "Nenni Desem Uyurm'ola... Üstüne Güller Gelir M'ola..."

He sighed. "I can't sing like Papa. It's so frustrating."

"Don't force it. Lie down and get some sleep."

"Papa's singing is excellent even when he's tired."

Elenna rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. "My beautiful boy, get some sleep now."

"Emredersiniz, Mamma."

She glanced at him as he hugged his pillow and closed his eyes, quickly falling asleep. She ran her hand through his hair once more as she placed his little hand on her belly. She noticed how his lips curved into an understated, yet visibly noticeable smile and her eyes filled with tears. No one would take that boy from her. They would never be parted. Her beautiful son, his father's heir. Her pride and joy. The best part of her. No, no one would ever be able to part them. Not even Gorthaur, not even Morgoth. No one.

She glanced at him fondly before she too closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, her hand on his. Despite all that she had suffered, she knew she was lucky. Mírion was a testament that Eru had not yet forsaken. Her little boy, her light in her dark, dark world.

She suddenly stirred. Someone was talking to her.

"I love you, Mamma. I will always protect you, I promise. I won't ever let you go."

She sighed and hugged him tightly. Life could still be meaningful, after all. Life could be beautiful. Life was beautiful.

Just a little snippet I thought of as I was editing the image of Enna and baby Mírion. I think it's my best edit yet. Look how cute they both are. They have my whole heart.

By the song I kind of included in the snippet is an actual Turkish lullaby called "Nenni" Desem Uyurm'ola?

This is the original version sang by actress Selma Ergeç, which is included in the official Muhteşem Yüzyıl (Magnificent Century) soundtrack album.

This is the same song sung by (I think) Halit Ergenç and it's how imagine Eönwë to sound when singing Valarin lullabies to his children. I personally love both versions, but I love Halit's a tiny bit more.

Anyway, I hope this snippet found you well and I hope you enjoyed it!

Other OCs that were mentioned (check character profiles for more details):

ESME

Half-Elven/Half-Human nanny to the Eönwë and Elenna's children. Actress: Caitlin Stasey.

NÁRAEL

Maiarin lady-in-waiting to Elenna, Maia of Aulë. Actress: Sophie Turner

HANDALIMË

Elenna's Lady of the Chamber and main lady-in-waiting. Maia of Vána. Actress: Gülcan Arslan

ELENYA

Lady-in-waiting to Elenna. Maia of Varda. Actress: Yasemin Allen.

[dragon-queen21]

Hi hello, umm… yeah don’t mind me as I disappear for days and return with a post about oc’s I have never introduced here before.

Something something soldiers in war referring to the nurses that took care of them as mom despite often times all being children themselves.

Tw/ injury, disassociation, implied character death

~~~

“M…” Victor’s voice cracks, wavers, “ma...” His hand finds purchase on the sleeve of Hannah’s sweater.

Everything hurts. He hasn’t had to fight like that in a long, long time. Victor’s claymore rests heavily by his side, weighing him down. He should unsummon it. Can’t exactly remember how too. Can’t give up the insticutal need to keep fighting.

Why is he fighting? Why is it always fighting- and pain- and he’s so, so tired and so scared all of a sudden.

“Mama, mama I’m scared-“

Hannah freezes, as though she hadn’t already by the uncharacteristic behavior of the elder.

“Dear I’m not your-“

Hannah loses all previously thought up endings to that sentence as Victor’s hand tightens on her sweater.

Desperate to have her stay, to make her understand. He’s been so lonely, and his vision is blurred but Victor’s sure that if she would only stay a moment longer…

“Okay, you’re alright sweetheart… your alright.”

She’s no mother, barely older than Victor in age and maturity. He has a son for heavens sake! But something about his state tells the avian that she should go along with this for the moment.

“Easy now,” she guides him to sit on the floor before his shaking knees can send him crashing downward. Wings coming to cover them both. “Easy fledgling…”

Victor flinches. Hannah can do nothing but repeat the soft assurances to him.

They need to leave. She needs to do something. Anything to assure their safety back to the Tallow, but to move Victor now seems like a detrimental decision. She does not know what has brought this on, does not know what the ichor of slain monsters and the corruption that festers in this land has done to the man who sits in front of her.

She wants her husband here, though how she will explain the situation she doesn’t know. Because if any of them would have thought that Victor would regress, they would have had a running bet made on it months ago. Because somehow the image never quite matched. If anyone should have been little…

It doesn’t matter.

“Victor, honey?”

Hazy eyes look up at her. Is he even seeing her right now?

Hannah ignores the urge to tighten her wings around herself less she give away any hint that she is out of her comfort zone here.

“You’ve done so well, do you think you can walk for mama? Let her lead you back to the ship hmm?”

He whines. Actually whines, pushing his face into her stomach, the action so childish that the younger woman’s mind goes static for a moment.

This must be a dream. She’s dreaming. She’ll wake up to Gale’s loving gaze, and chaos in the kitchen, and a day set out of nothing but peaceful sailing. And this will all have been a terrible nightmare that she can laugh about with Cassandra. Because Victor being little… finding out now of all places… The very idea is cruel. A child sent back to the place of their torment.

“Tired… very tired… wan’ s’eep.” he mumbles in a voice so soft, softer than anything she’s heard the man say before.

“I know.” And she does. Not truly, but enough to get the picture. But Hannah witnessed the fight Victor had. The power that only a few on the crew even thought was capable coming from one of their ‘laziest’ members. He’s always tired, this must be exhaustion if it’s bad enough for him to be complaining.

Carrying him is a no, especially if they are trying to keep this under wraps from the rest of the crew… The avian isn’t even sure if she could. Victor was broad framed and taller than her by a head. Muscles still lean from years of training, despite the near constant fatigue he seemed to always be in. Just where the heck was Gale anyways?

Her own musings came to an end when Victor pulls a silver chain from under his shirt. Two gold bands looped onto it that he now held, twisting the rings slowly between his fingers.

“Missed you…”

Hannah takes it all back, all semblance of control she thought she had. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t keep lying to him even if Hannah knows it’s probably the kindest thing. Because she knows without a doubt who Victor thinks she is. A role she can not replace even for a moment.

She can only sit, run a hand through his hair and keep back the worst of the disassociation until-

“Hannah!” Hurried footsteps pound on the earth. Theresa earth that is cracked and dry and sickeningly wrong, wrong, wrong, wro-

She tucks Victor closer to her when he flinches, getting him to sit up despite the protesting whines.

“Gale!” Hannah gasped, she could cry if relief right now. Of course she can’t, can’t even get up and run to embrace her love what with the little still clinging to her. “Gale he’s,”

“Regressed…” her husband finishes for her, a look of bewilderment crossing his face for a moment. “Well that’s certainly a new development isn’t it...” The avian would laugh had the situation been anything less than dire minutes before.

“Right okay…” there’s the warmth of magic that courses over the both of them and Hannah finds it well within her means to lift Victor up.

“Got him?” Gale asks, as though his own abilites weren’t doing the majority of the work right now. Palm outstretched and flickering with psychic energy.

Her husband is an angel, she thinks.

The walk back to the ship isn’t over nearly as soon as it should be. The monsters that lurk at the very edge of their distance making it so they can’t make a run for it. As long as they keep their distance and stay in the light they’ll be fine.

It’s far too optimistic.

Claws scrap at the floor, the sound of something dripping coming closer to them.

“Shit-“ her husband curses, eyes flicking to meet hers, to the regressed warrior held in her arms.

Hannah will be no help in this fight and they both know it, her husband struggles on a good day to use his powers directed in more than one place at a time.

They will not wjn this fight as they are currently.

Right. Damage control it is then.

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Part 12)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of  Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery, NUDITY MENTIONED 

Word Count: 1204

Imagine Series

Side Notes: 

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3.  Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

“Go start you a warm bath, my dearest treasure.” Astarion said as he walked over to the doors and flicked the lock. The ache in my muscles begged me to listen to him, so I went into the exquisitely decorated bathroom with a grand bathtub and turned on the hot water. The white marble floors felt cool under my bare feet, and the warmth of the bath water beckoned me to sink into the water. Arms wrapped around my waist as an alluring voice whispered in my ear. “You’ve been such a good girl.” His breath tickled the hairs on my neck as goosebumps rose on my arms. Light fingers danced across the small bumps rising on my arms as the vampire’s delicate fingers traced their way up my shoulders and to the lace that held my dress tight to my body. 

“You could’ve hated me after the century of hell I’ve put you through—“ Skilled fingers undid the lace as his lips ghosted down the skin of my neck. “—and left me to the devious plans of those fools.” The jade dress that covered my body fell onto the floor with a soft thud as the cool air greeted my body, causing a shudder to shake my body involuntarily. “But, you still continue to surprise me and stay by my side despite the pain you endured.” Astarion pressed a light kiss to my neck, and I held back a light moan as he chuckled at me.

“I had almost given up hope.” I whispered to him. “I had almost thought you didn’t want me anymore.” A hand ghosted over my hips before he pulled my bare back to lay against his chest.

“You deserve far more than me, my darling. You deserve the whole world and more than I can give you.” Cool lips pressed a kiss in the small area below my left ear. “Why you choose to stay with me is beyond my comprehension.” Another kiss was laid on my neck, lower than the previous one. “Regardless, I am eternally grateful that you stay by my side. No one has been as kind, caring or compassionate as you have been to me over the last few centuries.” He kissed the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. His fingers intertwined with mine as he led me over to the bathtub. 

“The water is cooling down, let’s get you cleaned up, my love.” I let him guide me into the warm water. As I sank down into the water, I let out a sigh of relief. I felt the tense slowly easing its way out of my body and muscles. I closed my eyes at the sensation before Astarion’s knowledgeable hands worked at the knots in my shoulders. “You’re so tense. Let’s see if we can get you a bit more comfortable.” His skilled hands worked and massaged the muscles that cried in relief at the careful attention he was giving me. After massaging my muscles, he took a brush before he undid the braid in my hair and brushed out the tiny tangles I had gathered throughout the day. He took careful care as his fingers washed my hair and massaged my scalp with my favorite peach scented shampoo. Continuing the lavish treatment of pampering me, he found my favorite bar of soap that smelled of strawberries and cream before he began to lather suds onto my skin, washing the dirt and grime of the beach and rock cave off of me. 

After rinsing my skin of the delicious smelling soap, I stood up and wrapped myself in the plush red towel Astarion handed to me. Using his offered hand to steady myself, I stepped out of the pleasantly warm water and onto the chilled marble floor. I dried myself off as Astarion left the room, but without his presence to distract me, my growing need to feed reared its ugly head as I struggled to will away the ache in my fangs and stomach. I forced a small smile onto my face as I walked back into the bedchambers I had once shared with the vampire who, upon seeing my fake smile, gave me a knowing smirk as he waltzed over to me and took my hand in his then placed a single kiss upon the top of my hand.

“After I ascended, I was surprised you had let me kill all those spawn in the process. When the ritual was all said and done, I no longer had such a hunger to feed as I did when I was a mere spawn under that wretched vampire whose name we shall not mention.” He led me to sit on his bed, and he kneeled before me while he stared into my eyes. “When I asked you if you wanted to be mine forever, do you remember what you said?” His crimson eyes sparked with a knowing humor behind them.

“I don’t want to just be a spawn. I want to be a true vampire like you.” A small smile graced my lips. “You said there’d never be another vampire like you.” I took the opportunity to caress his face gingerly because I had missed doing so over the last hundred years. His skin felt so soft under my touch like a satin pillowcase. “Your dark consort, your right hand, your most beloved spawn—together you and I would be the most powerful people in the world.” A smile graced itself on my lips as I recalled his words and that night, and Astarion stared at me with such admiration in his eyes.

“Do you remember what I said to you before I drank every last drop of your blood and made you mine forever?” His voice was quiet as he asked his second question and stared at me with expected eyes, and my smile widened.

“You have given me everything. Thank you.” Astarion smiled fondly at me before he spoke his next words.

“You have given me everything, and you have stayed with me through everything. You were there when I was a spawn living in survival mode. You were the silver tongued fox who talked the devil into killing himself so Raphael would tell me about my scars. You were the one who helped me carve the same wretched scars into the back of that monster.” He growled in anger, but he quickly composed himself. “Even now, you stayed loyal to me despite everything that damn creature made me do to you.” The Adam’s Apple in his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“You have a heart of gold, and I deserve no place in there. Yet, here I am taking space in the heart I stole all those years ago, and you certainly have taken every piece of my shattered heart and put them back together again.” Crimson eyes darkened with so many emotions as he spoke his next words slowly. “I told you one day I would make you a true vampire, when the time is right, and you have proven yourself truly to be my dark consort. Together we will both be unstoppable, and nothing will stand in our way—not even the enemies who have infiltrated our home.”

[a-m-pyra]

First Burn: Ch11 Wole Wolta (American McGee's Alice/Lies of P)

Mr. Mitchell was especially pleased to be able to lend P one of his frock coats from his college days. P felt as if it gave him a huge, indescribable joy, especially when it turned out that it only needed to be shortened by a couple of inches and Mrs. Sharpe was happy to take care of it. 

P felt the tension and tried to relax it by stretching his fingers. He went without Gemini, without his guide and companion, whom he had with him from practically the very beginning.

He was supposed to go with Alice, and what he wanted to do today only made him tremble more. He fought puppets, Corpses, God himself — he was not afraid for a moment. Fighting was natural.

Feelings were something new, something scary that P was still learning — he didn't want the confession to scare her. He also didn't want to hurt her if it turned out that this was all just another one of his lies.

If he manages to get even a word out.

P, Gemini, Otto, and Mr. Mitchell were waiting on the first floor for both Mrs. Seymour and Alice. They stood by the stairs until they both appeared — luckily, they didn't have to wait long. Each of them was shocked by the unusual sight of Mrs. Seymour, who came down first.

Her usual red and black color gave way to purple and silver. P saw Mr. Mitchell's eyes well up with tears.

“So many years,” he whispered, his eyes moving over her.

“Thank Alice. She convinced me to make a small change.”

“Just like old times.” He wiped the corner of his eye. “Lilibeth would be happy.”

Mrs. Seymour laughed and hugged Mr. Mitchell tightly. After a while, Alice's voice rang out, asking if she could show herself now.

P's mouth parted when he saw her. He admired her beauty and how much it added to the dress she wore. His eyes appreciated her elegantly pinned hair, curled into tiny curls, and how warm purple eye shadow and black eyeliner complimented her gorgeous green eyes. How her tea rose lips curved into an uncertain smile.

“Is it friendship or love?” Otto said, but P didn't hear even a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Otto easily noticed the sparkle that lit up in their eyes when they looked at each other, felt the tension that suddenly developed between them, and, judging by the glances of Alex and Jacob, they felt the same.

“I'm going to lose my mind if nothing happens today,” he said to Gemini as he watched the four of them towards the door.

“I guess we can only hope that one of them will take the next step.”

Otto just nodded.

P felt a little cornered when he saw so many people heading towards them — all around Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell's age. There were endless hugs and kisses on the cheeks — and when he felt a little out of place, Alice smiled and giggled.

“I don't understand,” he whispered, and Alice looked at him. 

She wrapped her arm around his and pressed her cheek.

“Remember how I told you about the big party at the lord's banquet?” P nodded. “I'm guessing these are former teenagers who attended this party.”

Now it made sense. He looked around at all the people who were jumping around Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell and saw how happy Mrs. Seymour looked. Truly happy — in a way he had never seen her before. There was usually something behind Mrs. Seymour's joy, and now he understood it. A kind of bitterness. Despite her excellent sense of humor, her wide smile and her contagious laugh, there was something about her that was more bitter than distillate.

“You said on Mabon that Mrs. Seymour likes to take decisive measures.”

“Yes. That's what I said.”

“What did Mrs. Seymour do?”

The smile on Alice's face immediately faded. She pursed her lips slightly as she watched Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell begin to plot something.

“Even I don't know the whole truth. She never wanted to tell me what she really did.” She tightened her fingers on P's arm. “Weird, unexplainable things had been happening for several weeks prior to my own investigation, when I returned to confront Bumby, there were police waiting for him and rumors were already circulating on the East End…”

“What rumors?

“Seymour is so determined to give them a happy ending that she would sell her soul to the devil and curse Bumby to achieve it. — I know these words by heart.” She sighed and looked at him. “No matter what she did to put him in his place, it wouldn't compare to the crimes he committed. Whatever she decided to do, I'm not going to judge her because I know she did it in good faith.”

“Even if she hurt someone?”

“If she hurt him, he absolutely deserved it.”

He took a breath, then raised a smile as Mrs. Seymour and Mr. Mitchell returned to them with smiles on their faces.

“Let's go to the hall and then we'll think about what to do next,” Mrs. Seymour said, and the four of them walked towards the banquet hall full of people.

People mostly stood in smaller groups and talked or snacked on appetizers. People Alice's age and younger didn't necessarily pay attention to the music and dancing — rather, people Mrs. Seymour's and Mr. Mitchell's age and older did. P, however, didn't miss the fact that they were starting to think about something, looking around the room and planning something.

When Alice decided for them to sit on one of the sofas, Mrs. Seymour just smiled and soon disappeared with Mr. Mitchell into the crowd of people.

Holding her so close felt good. He felt her touch through his clothes, her perfume, heard her voice speaking softly to him, right next to his ear.

He felt chills running through him. Her giggle made him smile. It was good to see Alice so happy.

After some time, he noticed that a lot of people were leaving the hall — especially the younger ones.

“What do you think is going on?”

She shrugged, then stood up and held out her hand to him.

“Let's find out.”

He laughed and grabbed her hand, letting her lead him behind the crowd. They reached a not very large room where a lot of people were entering. We could hear familiar singing, a chorus of voices, the tramp of shoes and lively music. When they managed to enter, they saw Mrs. Seymour, Mr. Mitchell and two boys standing on an extremely massive rectangular table. Mr. Mitchell played the accordion, Mrs. Seymour played the guitar and sang. One of the teenagers played the trumpet, the other played the violin. There were so many people that they could barely find a space. 

Mrs. Seymour waved at them, smiling broadly and then returning to the performance. 

They had fun. When P open up — and Alice, too, when she realized that no one was paying attention to anyone here — he felt more alive.

He couldn't contain his laughter, amusement, and overall joy at dancing with Alice. Sometimes she apologized when she bumped into him because of someone else, sometimes they just started laughing together.

They knew some of these songs, singing with Mrs. Seymour. Some of them had already sung during the Sabbath, and P could hear some of them when Mrs. Seymour hummed to herself. P was in love with the familiarity of it all. No one really cared how he danced, no one really cared about the declarations of love they sang to complete strangers. P thought about a completely abstract situation — whether Carlo and Romeo would like it.

During one of the songs, a forest of hands appeared, clapping to the rhythm.

P wondered if, if he were a real boy, this was what his life would be like. Not a fight to the death, but fun, joy and living life to the fullest.

Alice must have noticed a change in his demeanor because she placed a hand on his cheek and looked at him worriedly. P, however, simply grabbed her wrist and decided to kiss it to assure her that everything was fine. 

Seeing his smile, she returned it, feeling her heart leap at the sight.

“Wole Wolta, boys!” They heard and looked at Mrs. Seymour. “Roughly!”

There was the sound of a violin and an accordion. The couples swirled, and P also decided to make Alice dance. 

They felt the same tension between them again. They didn't take their eyes off each other, they didn't realize when they held their breaths or when their foreheads touched each other.

They stopped, their ears pounding. They weren't even sure if the music had ended.

“I need to get some air,” she said, and P nodded.

They went outside to the garden. The cool air hit their shoulders and P decided to throw his tailcoat over her shoulders. They sat on one of the benches, silent for a moment.

“I feel like I should tell you something,” he whispered, and Alice looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?”

He grabbed her hand, glancing at it out of the corner of his eye. He looked at her closely enough to notice a few old, pale scars. He rubbed them with his thumb, wondering how he should start. Confessions were not his forte. Although, he had an idea how he could tell her.

“Because Geppetto… I mean, my father, didn't bind me to the Grand Covenant, I'm able to do things that other puppets can't do. I don't have to obey the creator, I can lie, develop feelings,” he emphasized the last two words to let her know what he meant. Judging by the quickening pulse beneath his fingers, Alice knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Can you lie?”

“Let's just say I have a special talent for this.”

There's that tension again. She looked at him with slightly lowered eyelids. She was so close, he could look at her and appreciate every detail of her face. 

“Then lie to me.”

He felt his heart speed up.

“I don't care about you, and I really don't want what I feel for you to develop.”

She scanned his face, lingering on his blue eyes that stared at her like a puppy.

She covered her mouth with her hand and burst into tears. P didn't quite understand. He let her hug him, tucked her into him and stroked her back.

“Can…” she paused, thinking for a moment. “Can we take it slow?”

A weight lifted from his shoulders. 

“I'm happy that… but I can't. That's... too fast. I just need a moment to move on.”

P nodded.

“I completely understand.”

She pulled away and let him wipe her tears and lightly touch up her slightly blurry makeup.

“Thank you and…” she looked into his eyes again, “I think I feel the same.”

P immediately thought that if something was going to change, he was willing to give her all the time in the world to be ready. Time has no importance in this case, and he was ready to delve into the romance gradually, learning about subsequent levels at the appropriate time.

Fireworks lit up the sky, and P buried his face in her neck, enjoying the feeling of her hands running through his hair.

[kolour-me-kourt]

Chapter Seven: Pink Dress

The sex that was just had couldn't be put into words it lasted forever and he never wanted to stop she lost count of how many orgasms she had. But she would never forget how deep he was inside of her and how he made her feel. She'll remember the people in the next room knocking on the wall to tell her to quiet down she'll remember the headboard constantly beating on the wall and his lips being on every inch of her body she'll remember his chain hitting her in the face with each stroke and his hand wrapped around her throat tightly.... She'll remember it all.

He made it that way on purpose. He needed her to make her way back to him because he wasn't through with her yet regardless of what he said he liked her... a lot and he looked forward to seeing her but her decision to suddenly stop the sex because she wanted more ... didn't make sense to him. So he did what he knew how to do and that's fuck her just the way she likes she never had to tell him what she likes he just knew her body inside and out he knew when to tease her he knew when to give her his all or ease up he knew her.

But now that was all over..... according to her. He had just finished putting his clothes on as she watched him completely mesmerized. Her body glowed she hadn't felt that good in a while. Goodbye sex hit different Her face was relaxed In a smile. He stared down at her taking mental pictures. "So this is bye fr? Or you've changed your mind?" She bit her lip. Sitting up she covered her body with the blanket and began to speak

"That was amazing .... But I still have to let this go for my sake I could really fall for you and then I'll just be stuck.... Stuck loving you from the background stuck waiting on you and stuck being number Two and I'm just too damn good for that... you can agree with that" He came back closer to her grabbing her head gently kissing her lips and her forehead staring deep in her eyes. "Yeah you are completely right you deserve somebody who can give you more than I can right now but selfishly I want you around so if you ever wanna come back around just hit my line? Okay?" "Okay" He kissed her one last time his fingers went under the blanket and slowly entered her making her gasp.

"Give me one more before I go" her back arched as she grabbed his arm digging her nails in as she moaned and grinded against his hand. "I'm really gon miss this pussy ... it's so damn good" "Fuck... mmmm" she said softly his thumb rubbed her sensitive clit and she released all over his hand. Her eyes were closed but he watched her cum taking her all in.He needed to remember her just like that. He sighed pulling away from her "Alright I gotta catch my plane in a couple hours soooo...I gotta go" he kissed her again "goodbye LaMelo be safe" he walked towards the door slowly "hopefully this isn't really good bye" he says before shutting the door. She lays down calming her breathing down.

This was a new chapter in her life.... And it was gonna be worth it.  She settled in the bed drifting off to sleep. The next morning when she woke up she took her time getting up then she brushed her teeth took a bird bath and went and worked out after she worked out she came back in taking a shower she hadn't heard from Jayson until he texted. "It'll be tickets at the door saved under your name" "oooou professional I would've bought my own tickets though " "well now you don't have too.... can't wait to see you" "Ditto💕"

Everytime she moved her body she could still feel Melo she was so tempted to text or call him and hadn't even been 12 hours yet. Is it wrong to have two boyfriends? I mean neither has committed to her so why does she have to be committed to either of them. She's sure Jayson isn't a saint he's a NBA player he's getting some from some where it's no way he's not. Why can't she do the same? And when and if he wants to be official she'll just drop Melo. But what if she can't ever truly drop Melo should she just stay in the shadows ... what should she do?

A few hours passed by and she was at the game with her friend once again. She dressed very boho chic today a cute plain black top with black and white polka dotted pants with wide pant legs and cute sandals that showed her fresh pedicure and her faux Locs was pulled up into a high bun. "So you and Jaylen 👀" YN says smirking at her friend looking her up and down "I haven't spoken to him since that night" YN gasped "did you fuck?" "Yeah and uh it was decent but I was expecting more it's my fault really" "more in what way?"

" aggression? Idk like you saw how we were in the club he was tonguing me down and when we got back to my place he turned into a little puppy like I had to guide him but he did put it down but I don't like feeling like I have to take charge🙄" "it's cause you're not patient😂 he probably would've stepped up"

"hmmm maybe so but regardless he hasn't hit me up so maybe I was wack" "I doubt it he might text it's just been two days" "speaking of two days ... what made you stay? I love having you in my city but you're never here this long" "You right and a little birdie told me he would make it worth my while... so I'm trying it out" "J.T?" "Mhmm" YN naturally bit her lip thinking about him "aye if y'all get together then I'll see you more... I'm here for it" "shittt me too but if you miss me friend come and see me😩😩"

And finally the national anthem was sung and the players were called individually she watched as Jayson glanced up into the stands to try and find her but he didn't see her yet. But the game was about to start. So he started to focus. Jayson,Jaylen and three of their teammates took the floor.

"Maybe Jaylen will work for you" YN said softly to her friend "we will see ..." "what about doctor bae?" "He still trippin after our date got canceled he hasn't planned another one and I tried too yesterday but he came up with excuses shit pointless Fr" "that sucks cause he seemed sweet" "they always seem sweet in the beginning" YN sighed " yeah man 🥺"

                          *Time Skip*

It took until half time but he finally saw her in the stands his team was only down by 5 it's been a close game this whole time. She loved the way he looked up at her like she was a new opportunity he saw something in her that she didn't see in herself yet. When the game started back up it's like he had a second wind. He had made an additional 15 point points in the third quarter and by the time the game ended he had 58 points which is super close to beating his record. With him going off like that they won the game the Grizzles had no clue what to do they weren't expecting that at all.

After the game she had planned on getting dinner and then going to sleep. Jayson would be spending time with his son for the night and then his mother would get him tomorrow and that's when she would see Jayson. She was nervous about it honestly she had no clue what they would be doing but hopefully they get to know eachother and become friends and maybe build to more she was excited for the future .

                     *the next day*

It was three in the afternoon and Jayson was downstairs waiting for her. He decided to keep his plans a secret. YN didn't like surprises too much because she like to know what she should dress for. Like if they were doing something fun and then going out to dinner at nice restaurant maybe some jeans and a cute shirt so she could move if they were going bowling she needed socks it's multiple things she wanted to know but he told her nothing so she settled on a maxi dress she put heels in her bag to dress it up

For dinner but it was comfortable enough that if they had a picnic or went walking she would be fine in her sandals. Her jewelry was champagne colored. He was outside the car for her which made her smile. "You look beautiful I love your hair" she had decided to take her faux Locs out since she was anxious about the date so it took her mind off it so now her hair was in high puff. "Thank you ... you look nice too" his look was casual but she found him so sexy.

After he said thank you he opened her door letting her in and then he shut the door after her. Then he got into the car he glanced at her. She smiled "Do you wanna tell me where you are taking me JT" "oooou you calling me JT now?" He pulls off "that's what other people been calling you I thought I would just fall in line" he laughed

"don't be like others be different" she smiled "okay stop switching the subject" "you like how I did that huh?" "Nahhh you too slick you almost got me" she laughed "okay last time ima ask can I at least get a hint?" "I guess you can get a hint.... It's one of my favorite spots I think you'll like it it's a nice day" "hmmm so is it outside" "yeah it's outside" "I'm dressed okay for it though?" "You're dressed perfect" she smiled "thank you"

"you seem a little more shy today what's going on?" "I'm not trying to be... I'm just digesting everything and I was drunk the first time you met me drunk YN is a different type of girl but I am a little nervous I'll be honest" "hmmm why?" "Dates make me nervous.... Spending time with new people make me nervous I'm a home body" "mmm I get that I do I'm laid back myself so I appreciate you spending time here choosing to stay a few days to get to know me I know you could be doing better things" "I don't wanna be anywhere else .... I'm enjoying my time here " she smiled he grabbed her hand softly. " well don't be nervous or shy....I'll guide through it all"  She wondered if that was layered like what would he guide her through just the date? Or the whole relationship since she was timid but she felt like that question was too loaded for the playful mood they were in so she remained quiet

When they were close to their destination she glanced out the window "oh wow that is so beautiful I haven't seen anything like this" "that's where we going so I'm glad you like it" he smiled wide she glanced at him "you had this planed or are you just stopping cause I like it?" He laughed "it's the plan.... We have a tour guide and everything" "oh my goshhh I'm so excited .... What's the name of this place?"

"Charles River it has a lot of nice spots" he parks the car "so do you always take people here?" he laughs as they get out of the car. "Nah I wouldn't recycle no place with you" he waits for her behind the car as she fixes her dress and grabs her bag walking back to meet him. "Wellll maybe you can come to my city some time ... if you like me by the end of the night" she grabs his hand make the first move he smiles squeezing her hand quickly and then keeping a strong hold on it. He was glad she initiated touching him cause he was trying to respect her space and boundaries but now he knows she's open.

They headed to the bridge to meet the person giving them a tour "I'm sure I will still like you" "you know what I couldn't stop thinking about the other night?" "Nah enlighten me?" "That kiss..... you kissed me like you've been waiting for me" he smiled laughing slightly "maybe I have..... like I don't go out that much but I happen to meet you the one time I choose to go out with Jaylen you weren't supposed to be out either but you ended up out .... Now how that work....I deserve you" she smiled "I'm not perfect at all I'm a little Fucked up" "and that's fine cause I am too but like I said .... I deserve you" they finally make it over the hill where the tour guide introduces himself and walks them to a golf cart. YN was great that it would be some space between him and them

"You guys can sit on the back and I can talk you through things or I can just drive and if you guys have questions you can ask" "which do you prefer?" YN asks smiling "honestly the latter it's all self explanatory except for a few historical moments you may enjoy" "okay you don't have to explain everything then" YN laughed slightly as they sat down "thank you mam..... I wish I gave more people like you tours..... ima huge fan by the way" he glances back at Jayson turning the golf cart on

"thank you sir" YN says making a joke Jayson shakes his head "thank you man" Jayson says smiling  "you're welcome .... alright let's go!!!" The tour guide got hype all of sudden speeding off making Jayson and YN laugh. "Mind if I play my radio?" The tour guide asked "no man you can call play it" Jayson says so the Tour guide turns it on

"now back to you" Jayson says licking his lips making YN blush "back to me what?" "You said you a lil fucked up .... So what made you dead that lil situation you was in?" "It was time.... I rather not get my feelings tangled in with someone who is always gonna just see me as a second option... he agreed I deserve better" "but he couldn't give you better?" "I'm sure he could have but he didn't want too" "as long as you know" Jayson smirked making YN lift an eyebrow

"what you mean?" "If a man wants to do something he will... like me I just met you two days ago but I was able to plan this date while getting to know you.... And working and it's all because I wanted to get to know you even if this doesn't develop into a relationship even though I hope it does but if it doesn't I know I gave my all" she smiled and kissed his lips quickly she was sure why she was being so bold but she liked it

"not in front of the trees YN" he said jokingly she bit her lip "well ...that was very pg compared to the kiss I was thinking about" he licked his lips "ahhh you can show me that in the car....." "you don't like pda?" "sometimes but getting carried away and can't do anything about it ... that'll fuck me up" it's the way he looked at her he meant every word he said " get carried away how? What you wanna do to me?"

He smiled staying quiet for a while she watch him intently as he thought about the many positions he could put her in but that was for a different time.

"It's the first date.... So just kiss" "you sure?" "That's all you're gonna do.... So that's all I wanna do.... No sex for you" she laughed loudly "why you acting like you know me already what if I have sex on the first date?" "You bluffing that didn't even sound right coming out your mouth stop it" she smirked "you right" "yeah yeah I know" "but you don't like to be teased?" "Nah I don't even like them games at all" she bit her lip

"I'm a teaser...." "If you tease me I'll tease you so bad you'll never wanna try me again" Now that was sexy "wanna bet?" She smirked "look at the trees and stop playing with me" he smiled pulling her closer "even though you didn't ask.... I love being teased" "mmmm that makes sense then" "what makes sense?"

"Your whole attitude especially when I say certain things I see your eyes light up" she shook her head "my face always tells on me man" "yeah it does it's how I'm getting to know you" "so ask me something........ something you really wanna know and I'll answer honestly" "are you using me as a rebound from the last situation? Cause even if it wasn't a relationship it was clearly serious to you and if I'm a rebound or distraction I just wanna know " "I don't believe in rebounds I wouldn't use anybody especially not a innocent person just so I can feel better no.... You asked me out and I like spending time with you that's why I'm out"

"last question about that situation if he dropped everything and said I wanna be with you would you drop everything too?" She thought for a second "Honestly if he cheated on her what would make me different? I couldn't trust him enough to be my boyfriend" she shocked herself with what she said cause she never really Thought about it but now it was clear she had made her decision. Waiting on Melo was stupid cause she doubts he'll change so why add herself to the cycle she's glad she got out now"Wow that's a different way of thinking" "I mean .... It's the truth "

"sorry did I get you down?" "No no I just hadn't thought about it .... I asked him if he could ever be serious with me and he said no he would never leave his girl and that made it easier to leave.... It had nothing to do with you but if I'm still being honest you came at the perfect time" "and why is that?"

He smiled which made her smile too " you have me out in public in broad daylight ..... with no issues and you made time to do it" "so what that mean?" "It means someone would date me like Fr date me .....  I'm pretty and I'm smart with personality I get that but that's not always a selling point to be wifed" "well you wife material so let's make sure this thang work I know you fresh on the market but I wanna put my bid in and snatch you back off " she smiled he kissed her lips softly making her relax It was easy with him it had never felt so easy with anyone

"I want to start by being honest" "don't tell me anything you have a clean slate ... starting now it's me and you fuck everything else" "you sure?" "I promise"

"I'm happily off the market.... After the first date Damn" "not even after..... during .... You like me already I'm that good" "that's my damn problem" she shook her head laughing "well.... You my problem now so say hello to your new chapter" he kissed her check

[quigonswife8]

Sacrifice: Namor x reader

This isn’t exact to how the ending of the movie is but I’m still putting a spoiler warning.

Shuri decides to kill K’uk’ulkan, but you sacrifice your life before she can.

Just sadness ya'll. No happy ending.

Warnings: death, blood, sad.

gif creds: @mndvx

-

You had followed K’uk’ulkan and Shuri to the desert. After the ship crashed you so desperately tried to get to him: he needed water, and so you had tried getting him to it.

The new black panther, came out of nowhere though, throwing you to the side, out of the way. Then, the fight began again between the two: Namor getting the upperhand at first, until Shuri had devised a plan to knock him down.

Now, as he's laying helpless on the sand, she grips onto the spear with her right hand. She stands above him, vengeance in her eyes. Her eyes once held hope- now they hold nothing but anger.

"K’uk’ulkan..."

You push yourself up.

"..you killed my mother."

"She didn't listen to-"

"Quiet!"

Her grip on the spear leaving her knuckles to turn white.

"...you're a monster."

That stings to hear but you don't let it get to you. Rather focusing back on the task at hand.

Shuri scoffs, kicking him in the side- earning a groan from the god.

"...you're a monster who needs to be killed."

In the back of her mind her mother calls from the ancestral plane. Talking to her, begging her to reconsider her decision. Shuri simply ignores her pleas, decision set in stone.

Hands shaking from the amount of anger running through her, she raises the spear above Namor. Not taking her eyes off the helpless man below: then she shakes her head, makes a quick motion down.

Hitting her over the back with your own weapon you grab her attention, stopping her from killing Namor. The black panther still gripping onto the spear moves, quick, stabbing the spear forward fatally injuring you.

It...doesn't hurt at first. Everything feels numb. Hands press against the wound, the blood coating it. Eyes full of tears that then move over to Namor. Namor who is at a loss for words your name slipping from his lips so quietly.

The ground meets your knees soon enough, then your body hits the sand.

"No..."

He pushes himself up onto his feet out of his shock, staggering over to you ignoring how he still needs water. He ignores Shuri, ignores as she watches him get to you now, only looking. He only focuses on you,

"My love..."

Wrapping his arms around you.

"...why..."

Namor never acts this way around other, right now though as the love of his love is dying in his arms his front cracks and he doesn't care how he is viewed.

"Couldn't let you die..."

The Black Panther watches on. This had never meant to happen. It was supposed to be him, not you. The person who had killed his mother, not the person who has shown her nothing but kindness, and heart. Who had offered her words letting her know that you truly are sorry for her mother's death.

She had never meant to do this to you. Now with no way to heal you, her kimono beads having been left behind, she watches on helpless.

"...I would much rather have died..."

His hands pressing down to stop the blood. There's so much.

"C-couldn't let you, K’uk’ulkan..."

K’uk’ulkan looks down into your eyes. The life that was once there slowly slipping away. He is so used to seeing how your eyes shine, how they always seem to be so full of life, only for it to disappear like *that*. He needs to get you help, desperately.

"I...I."

Bringing one of your hands up, you rest it on the side of his face.

"I need to get you help..."

It's useless. If he moved you, you would die, and with the amount of blood lost already you'll be dead in a few minutes. That's barely enough time for help to get there.

"This is it for me."

"..don't say that..." He mutters, turning to face Shuri expecting her to kill him. Though she doesn't, and while no words are spoken, he can tell that she never meant for this to happen.

"It's t-true..."

Namor shakes his head trying to fight back the tears. If he could heal you, he would, but he can only heal himself. Pretty ironic.

"...can...can you j-just hold me?"

The last thing you want is to die without a proper goodbye. You'd much rather die in his arms, with that proper goodbye.

Namor, on the other hand, stares into your eyes with such fear. He'd not long ago lost two of his people and now he's going to lose you. This isn't fair, it should have been him, not you. It should have been.

"...(y/n)..."

"Please K’uk’ulkan. T-this is my dying wish, this is all I want. To just be with you as I die."

This isn't right...but this is your dying wish, and he wants to respect it. If this is what you want then he'll give it to you. He sighs, but the pain on his face is evident. "anything for you, my love."

"Thank you..."

Settling more into his hold, your head moving to rest against his chest. There are a million things he wants to say to you and how much he loves you, is one of them.

The first surface dweller he had ever given his heart to- the first person- that he has loved more than life itself. The person who is his light, his reason for living. Who has consumed his thoughts, his dreams, his everything. You mean more to him then he could ever describe. Now he’s about to lose you, and that breaks him.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I love you."

A smile flickers onto your lips, and you say it back. "I love you." so much love in your words, in your eyes, in your body. Namor can see that, and he's just the same. "I love you."

K’uk’ulkan feels when you slip away. Your heart beat stuttering, then falling flat. He doesn't let go of you, though. Namor keeps holding onto you, now letting the tears fall. His eyes close, tighten shut, and shuddery breaths fall, and he doesn't let you go.

Not when he yields and then comes to an agreement with Shuri. Not when he joins Shuri's side and they both call off their armies. Not when he returns to his kingdom, and especially not when he returns to the mural room.

He holds onto you, silent, head resting on top of yours. No words spoken. nothing. all he does is hold you.

[coffeewithcutcaffeine]

hello my darling lin <33 missing you loads.

can you please share your favourite cătălina headcanons? i've been thinking about her way too much lately.

hope you're living your best life my beloved 💓.

My dearest Lizzie! Thank you so much for sending this precious Ask my way — it absolutely made my freaking month! I hope life is treating you with utmost kindness and generosity. I miss you and adore you so much! 🥰️❤️️

I could not really choose any of those cute little HCs I have for my modern-day female characters since life in the 15th century did not allow much space for all those hobbies and affections we have today. As I expand her story in more detail, something might come to mind with time. Instead, let me humbly offer some bits about her that I either might not get a chance to fully explore within the story or will elaborate on in more detail later on in my writings (some parts are hence more spoiler-free). ✨

Without further ado, let me introduce you to Miss Cătălina!

FAMILY:

Cătălina is born on January 26, 1432 in a small village near Târgoviște, the capital of Wallachia. She is the youngest child and only daughter of Costea and Maria.

She has Bulgarian roots from her mother’s side. Maria’s ancestors fled Veliko Tarnovo and came to the region of Dâmbovița in the early 14th century.

Cătălina’s mother tragically dies during childbirth, leaving her without the opportunity to know her. All Cătălina has of her mother are the memories shared by her father and elder brothers. Her parents’ marriage was a loving one, and Cătălina unquestionably inherits not only her mother’s beauty but also her astute mind. This resemblance to his late wife is why Costea always has a special affection for his beloved daughter.

Cătălina will always remember her father as a compassionate and honest man, the first man she truly loved. After the death of his beloved wife, he vows never to remarry. Costea strives to raise his daughter to become a respectable young woman with the right virtues but finds it difficult to refuse any of her requests — as a result, she learns to ride, practice archery, and read and write, just like her brothers. He rationalises these decisions by hoping these skills might help her secure a good marriage in the future, but the truth is that he simply struggles to say no to his daughter. He is also Cătălina’s first lesson on how to wrap a man around her finger. He is killed during the recapture of the Giurgiu fortress in 1445, and Cătălina keeps his sword as a remembrance for the rest of her life.

She has three elder brothers, two of whom die at a very young age. Her eldest brother, Stan, is killed during the Battle of Varna in 1444. The middle brother, Costea, whom Cătălina is closest to, is brutally murdered when a tragedy befalls the family in 1447. Only the youngest brother, Dumitru, lives to old age — he even outlives his sister.

Ironically, Cătălina’s family is quite closely tied to Vlad’s years before their relationship starts. At the time of her birth, Cătălina’s family belongs to the class of moșneni (i.e. freeholders who farm their own land), but after Vlad’s father becomes the voivode, and Cătălina’s father proves to be of great aid to his ruler, the status of the family is elevated to that of petty nobility. Two of the siblings even befriend two of the Drăculești.

She feels the absence of her mother most strongly when she starts transforming into a woman herself. Her menarche is a traumatic experience for the little girl — she begins to panic and fear that she is dying, and only a kind housemaid placates her and explains to her the workings of her changing body. She also grieves this loss when she becomes a mother because not only does she suddenly find herself in this new role, but she also longs for guidance and advice from her own creator.

Adjusting to motherhood initially requires more time and effort from her, and it is one of the struggles she buries deep down and never confesses to anyone. Her first son is born when she lives in a very unfamiliar environment, which leaves her feeling melancholic and helpless. She even finds herself slightly envious of Vlad, who seems to adapt to fatherhood with more ease. (He is just as terrified but helped take care of two younger siblings and was even fully responsible for his baby brother for a period of time, so he simply has more experience with children. Other than that, he also has a lot of figuring out to do.)

She is a very nurturing and loving mother but, at the same time, the stricter parent of the two (which is a reason for recurring jokes between the two brothers when they are older as they sometimes affectionately call her Spătar — the person responsible for military affairs and second in rank in the army after the voivode). She is also playful and active, ensuring her lively boys are never bored. When they mature into men, they never hesitate to defend her on any occasion.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS:

Despite a previous horrific experience, she grows to love sex and appreciate it as something through which comes pleasure, love, and new life. Her first sexual experience is with Vlad, and the way he treats her as her sexual partner significantly influences her perspective on these matters. She has the space to fully and freely explore her own preferences and pleasure, she is never shamed for her desires and needs, she feels safe and her boundaries are respected, she receives pleasure as well as gives it. Her body is appreciated for how it is and what it can achieve.

Loving Vlad wholly and selflessly does not mean she does not consider the pros and cons of their relationship. She desires to live in a certain type of security and have a certain status which her position grants her. Being a ruler’s mistress means that she always has to be watchful and careful, it is a life of danger and intrigues, and so she compensates for that with the benefits her role brings. She will never allow anyone to make her feel guilty about it.

She never blindly, wholeheartedly believes any man, be it Vlad or later her husband. Cătălina can love with all devotion and passion, yet will always try to hold onto some kind of Plan B should circumstances fail. She knows that being able to rely on herself is the only way to save her life — and rightly so, because it saves her numerous times.

The one thing Cătălina has a difficult time coming to terms with is when Vlad finally gets engaged. All her life, she has known he cannot marry her and will have to marry someone else one day, but because he is avoiding marriage most of the time, it is just some vague notion at the very back of her mind. When that moment finally comes, she cannot help but feel it will change everything. Their relationship is forcibly ended soon after he gets married.

She marries a very kind and good-natured man who loves her dearly, is very protective of her sons, and lets her keep the kind of freedom she is accustomed to, but the marriage is far from happy. She will never grow to love him the way he wishes to be loved and will always feel somehow shackled in that relationship.

PERSONALITY:

She is the type of person who brims with life. Though living in a very grim and violent world, she tries to seek out the small pleasures of life. There are things that fill her with joy and a sense of freedom, and she holds them close to her heart and protects them.

She sometimes has a tendency to resort to harmless pettiness, but those are often the occasions that grant her a feeling of having the upper hand for at least a while.

Under certain circumstances, she can become extraordinarily vindictive, even cruel. If she or her loved ones are wronged or hurt by someone, she will not rest until she sees that person punished.

At the height of her time as the Voivode’s concubine, many people perceive her as a calculating and ambitious woman. That is partly incorrect as she very rarely shows interest in political affairs. Most of the time, she tries to avoid interfering in these things and refuses to try to sway Vlad’s opinion on any matters. She is only calculating and ambitious when it comes to her personal affairs — her and her family’s well-being, or protecting something or someone dear to her. That does not mean she does not have a strong stomach to navigate through the politics of the time. She also appreciates that some people consider her to be dangerous as it brings a sense of safety.

In terms of showing anger, she is the polar opposite of Vlad. He is quite short-tempered and tends to be explosive and tempestuous, but becomes cold and detached when his anger reaches its peak which signals that things have gone too far. She tends to be more aloof and icy when angered and becomes explosive only when things become too much to bear.

She loves being a woman but despises being treated as inferior and having limited options in life because of it.

SELF:

Despite the times and circumstances not favouring women, she becomes quite educated thanks to her father. She speaks the Wallachian dialect (graiul muntenesc), can read both the Romanian Cyrillic alphabet (used to write the Romanian language until the 1860s) and Old Church Slavonic (literary language for official correspondence), and write in the Cyrillic alphabet.

Cătălina takes great pride in her long and beautiful hair and cares for it diligently. She religiously applies expensive, fragrant oils on it, even washes it with herbal extracts during warm months to lighten it a little and give her chestnut locks a reddish tinge. (Since Wallachian fashion of that period completely concealed the body, I believe hair was really the only thing a single woman could flaunt.)

She has always longed to see the sea, but never gets the opportunity in her life. That also happens to be the only promise from Vlad that has never been fulfilled.

When she feels angry or hopeless, she saddles up and rides.

She loves good food. Girlie adores it and will never not indulge in it.

[totaldramafan-lauri]

Small followup to last Helluva post:

I.....I-I really hope that fans don’t hate on Moxxie TOO much over this....

I mean, I understand why people would be annoyed with him, and that’s fine, cuz he WAS so blatantly in the wrong here, so I’m not gonna get on people’s cases for being miffed at him. Especially those who don’t relate to him as hard as I do. I don’t mind people being annoyed at him, cuz that was definitely intentional. That final jab from Blitzo was probably meant to be catharsis for people who were annoyed at him. No, what I’m worried about is people misunderstanding him. Calling him toxic or whatever.

He’s allowed to make mistakes, guys. We’ve known he’s not a saint. He can let his insecurities get the better of him sometimes (Harvest Moon Festival - could’ve backed out at any time, didn’t need to prove anything, yet he kept trying to compete with Striker anyway). This was his first time leading a job. He didn’t wanna mess it up, and in doing that, he got too wrapped up in wanting to get it exactly right. As a perfectionist, I understand. And as for caring too much about what the campers thought of him....We’ve known FOR A WHILE that he’s scared of rejection. He wears that on his sleeve. He constantly needs validation, not just from Millie, but from everyone around him, to feel like he’s not a useless screwup. That is a FLAW. One that’s made him sympathetic, sure, but it’s still a FLAW that he has to overcome. Such low self-esteem can have negative effects on one’s behavior. He’s not perfect. But he’s still a good person. And he LOVES Millie. That hasn’t changed at all. I didn’t see it as him getting mad at her, but more that he was frustrated that things weren’t going his way. He wanted to feel like he was doing things right as a leader....but he wasn’t. He sabotaged himself. And yes, he took it out on Millie. And it was hard to watch, but guess what?

He realized RIGHT AWAY that he messed up. Literally right away. There was no scene where we see him all sulky after the argument, wondering what he did wrong and needing a reality check. No, he went to make it up to her as soon as possible. He made it known to her that he’s really, truly proud of her. She did nothing wrong, and he never acted like she did. The problem was him. He owned up to it.

Again, you’re allowed to not like him in most of the episode, cuz that was the point, but....

I’m REALLY worried that people are gonna call him a bad husband or even turn on M&M cuz of him, now that we’ve seen them argue once. I really hope this doesn’t become a serious recurring criticism, cuz, as someone who has always related so hard to Moxxie and is ride-or-die with him, I’m not sure how much I could take that. People hating on him for making similar mistakes that I’ve made in the past will, well....hit close to home for me. I adore him, always have, always will. Even when he’s making stupid decisions, even when it’s hard to watch, I never hate him. I always understand where he’s coming from.

(Even the cringe comedy had some relatability to it. Bruh.....attempting to socialize, only to get judged by my peers for being a “freak”? No wonder that set him off-)

(BTW, I wouldn’t even call this Moxxie’s worst episode. I was.....honestly more genuinely annoyed with him in Seeing Stars. In this episode, I understood his thought process. In that one, he was just so blatantly not caring and getting distracted all episode for comedy reasons, pfffff XD Another reason that’s my least-fav episode)

[partialdarkncss]

VERONICA SANTOS is a 30 year old HUMAN based on DUSK from SCOOBY DOO AND THE HEX GIRLS. She is a BARTENDER with NO POWERS. She uses SHE/HER pronouns, and most of her memories are intact.

Veronica is a wrecking ball. She’s loud and blunt and doesn’t know how to bite her tongue, and if she did, wouldn’t be able to control herself!

She’s spontaneous. She goes after what she wants in the moment without thinking about the future. She doesn’t want to think about the future.

When the band was formed, Dusk was a blonde. A rebellious teenage decision that followed her into stardom. It isn’t her proudest look, but she doesn’t regret it. It was iconic. She finally went natural when she was twenty five, though, and she’s gotta say she looks better with darker, healthier hair.

Veronica pretty much uses her real name and her band name interchangeably. She’s been Dusk for so long to so many people, sometimes she doesn’t think before introducing herself that way. She doesn’t really care what people call her --- Veronica, Dusk, V, D, Ver, it’s all the same to her. Unless it’s an insult. Then you’re getting a black eye.

Her favorite color is green. Her closet is at least 90% green and black with a pop of purple, as are her makeup products. She looks great with a dark red, but you’ll almost always find her applying black lipstick instead.

She gets around on her motorcycle for the most part. That is green, of course.

Dusk tends to steer clear of love. That doesn’t mean relationships. She’s happy to go on dates and connect with people. But when she commitment comes in, when it starts to feel serious, that’s when she freaks out. Sure, it hurts. But it would hurt a hell of a lot more when they leave. So she’ll keep choosing to rip the band-aid off.

She enjoys scaring people. She’s a harmless prankster, putting bugs on shoulders and jumping out to screech ‘boo!��� She just loves the rush. And making people scream.

She feels trapped in Evermore, and she can’t stand that. It puts her in a ‘fight or flight’ mindset... except flight isn’t an option. It’s still better than her hometown, though, so if she can’t leave, she’d rather be here.

She’ll laugh in the face of death, but living scares her. Moving forward, being alone, losing people. Danger is fun. That kind of thing is not.

Veronica doesn’t think she ever wants to be a mother. It isn’t that she doesn’t like children. She actually loves children. And animals. They’re much better than adults and humans, and she has a soft spot for them. But she knows how much losing her mother hurt, and she knows how hard it is for her to stick around. She doesn’t want to put her own child through that, as much as she likes to believe she never would. It’s better to not take that chance.

She also never planned on having a pet, but life had other plans. One night when the girls were on tour, she found this scrawny little kitten and snuck him into her hotel room. She planned on keeping him overnight, just so he was safe until she could get him to a shelter the next day... but he had her wrapped around his little paw within hours. She named him Peart, after the Rush drummer, of course, bought him a spiked collar, and he became her best little companion. She’s so glad he’s here with her in Evermore, or she truly would lose her mind worrying about him.

She often drinks on the job. She doesn’t want to get fired or anything, but she also kind of doesn’t care. It can’t be that hard to find another place hiring a bartender, and she needs something to make the other drunks bearable.

She has a natural beauty mark on her cheek, like the cartoon.

Dusk doesn’t think she cares about saving the world quite as much as her friends do. She obviously cares about Earth and she isn’t going to go out of her way to trash it or create unnecessary waste... but truthfully, she doesn’t think that it matters if she recycles or not. She’s just on person. But she can spin that pessimistic view around to hate on the other people not doing it, so that’s a win.

She does believe in all things witchy, though also maybe not as much as Thorn and Luna. She turns to tarot cards for advice (that she’ll never take) and chooses herbs over pharmaceuticals anytime she can, but she’s not walking around with crystals in her pockets. Though sometimes she wonders if she should be.

[astarionslittlejuicebox]

The Promise of Eternity (Part 11)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of  Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 827

Imagine Series

Side Notes: 

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3.  Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

Astarion POV

I watched as she pulled her hand gently out of my grasp and pulled a bottle from her satchel, then bit her bottom lip between her fanged teeth for a split second.

“This is the antidote for the charming wine they’ve been giving you. I don’t have much other than this one bottle because there wasn’t much of your blood left in the vial.” She reached into the bag again and pulled out a vial with a small amount of thick red liquid sloshing slightly within the glass. I stared at the drow in front of me with amazement, which she returned with a look of confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Her question was hushed and spoke with a tone of embarrassment in her words. My hand raised itself to gently caress her face; the drow’s eyes filled with clear liquid that poured slowly over as she leaned into my touch but never broke eye contact with me.

“You still continue to amaze me.” The words rolled off of my tongue as I stood in front of the drow who has loved me despite every thing I have put her through. Looking at the bottle of antidote in her hand, I knew that the vulnerable spawn years ago had placed his trust in the right person when he held that dagger to her throat. “How long should the antidote work?”

“I believe the wine only stays in your system for about a couple of days or so from what I could gather in the short amount of time studying the concoction. The antidote should work about the same.” Her honeyed voice filled my chest with joy as I wrapped my hands around hers.

“Will the antidote still work if I consume the wine after drinking the antidote, or does it work like antivenom?” Her eyes scrunched with thought before she shook her head.

“It works like an antivemon--you need to ingest the venom first before you can use antivenom.” My head nodded in understanding before I stepped closer to the drow, placing myself between her legs. Her eyes darted every so slightly as she studied my face, searching for something unknown to me. “You’re in danger though, and I’m afraid we don’t have much time to prepare for what is to come. Ahriman is set on killing you for revenge on his daughter’s death. Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Perhaps during my time under the grimy thumb of Cazador, but I have not done such behaviors since you helped me ascend, my treasure.” Her eyes gave me a knowing look as she sighed heavily.

“I forget that people have no idea all of the shit you had to deal with so many centuries ago.” A smile found its way to my lips as she spoke. This woman had a true heart of gold, and I most definitely did not deserve to have the hold on it that I had. Sadness crept its way into my heart as I reflected on the feelings of loneliness and sadness I experienced during the whirlwind of memories (TAV’s name) shared with me moments ago.

I felt all of those feelings during my enslavement by Cazador, yet (TAV’s name) held on hope that I truly loved her. The thought must’ve made a frown come to my face because the drow in front of me caressed my face with a loving hand.

“I know that look. You need not to worry about the past, my love.” (TAV’s name) gave me a breathtaking smile, but she reminded me of another emotion she had unknowingly shared with me: her hunger.

“When was the last time you fed, my darling?” I asked in a low voice, which caused surprise to flash on the drow’s face for a brief moment before her face twisted to a look of embarrassment. If she had still be living, I know her ash blue cheeks would’ve turned to an ash purple.

“I may not have fed since you tasked me with finding the blood thief.” She bit her lip before she sheepishly replied to my question, and my eyes widened with surprise. It may have been a couple of centuries since I was a spawn, but I do remember the hunger pains vividly. For a brief moment, I thought about fussing at her, but another devilish thought crossed my mind.

She deserves a reward--especially after all the shit she’s put up with for the last century. Grasping her hands firmly, I pulled her to stand on her feet. Confusion etched into the drow’s perfectly sculpted brows, but she obeyed nonetheless as I led her inside my bedchambers.

“Go start you a warm bath, my dearest treasure.” I didn’t look at her as I walked to the doors and locked them. I didn’t want that damn fae to interrupt us and ruin the sweet reward that my treasure had no idea she was about to receive.