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jacesvelaryons · 5 months ago

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The Reluctant Empress (Jacaerys Velaryon x Female!Reader)

Act II. Burgeoning

(19th Century Imperial Austria AU)

summary: crown prince jacaerys gets to know his prospect betrothed and future bride whom he has been arranged with to marry, your sister helaena targaryen, but true to your wild spirit, you cannot help but wonder what awaits in the world behind gilded castles and royal splendour.

word count: 2.4k words

a/n: i'm so sorry this took an entire year before an update but it is finally here! i apologize as I had some health things to settle, and with brain fog and got more distracted by other fandoms but here we go! once again, please comment and share what you liked, what you'd want more for me and request and let me know as my inbox is always open <3 let me know if you want to be on the taglist or not getting tags!

series masterlist

previously: prologue | act i

masterlist

requests OPEN

“Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.” ― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Seated between her mother and sister, Y/N eyes roamed around the dining hall in the palace that hosted the royal family and her covey. Changed into an emerald green gown, wearing the necklace and earrings her father gave her on the last name day before his passing, she paid no mind to the significance of the occasion and was just glad to be there, surrounded in the splendor of the castle walls.

She knew that it was Helaena’s time to shine, and she would not want to rob her of her light, of the opportunity that would change their fortunes and not have Alicent scrabbling and worrying over the last penny of their expenses.

Twirling her fork on the pesto noodles in front of her, Y/N remained silent and just patiently listened to all the conversation around her, between her mother and her childhood friend the Queen, who inquired about Helaena’s well being, her lifestyle and assessing on how she would adjust becoming the next consort upon wedding Jacaerys.

Dazed out in a world of her own, Y/N did not hear Jacaerys reverting his attention to her aptly, until her sister nudged her ankle with her shoe, repeating her name on his tongue like it was the sweetest honey, curiosity and amusement on his features.

“Lady Y/N, what do you do in your free time, my lady?”

Stammering like a cat bit her tongue, she cleared her throat as she gathered herself and make her look and sound presentable.

“I ride horses, my prince. I hunt and I have picked up the sword a few times.” Lady Y/N bluntly replied, already feeling the burning glare of your embarrassed mother. Queen Rhaenyra only watches in amusement, how her confidante could have a daughter who was nothing like her mother.

Jacaerys was intrigued, leaning forward to hear Y/N better and scooch closer over to Her. A curious smile on his handsome, chiseled face, his curly brown hair starting to grow out and neatly groomed behind his ears.

Plates and utensils remained untouched as Y/N and Jacaerys were engrossed in an engaging, animated conversation, passionate replies to uncontrollable laughter.

The older women present at the table watched with trepidation, Lady Alicent’s habits of digging into her fingernails returned while the silver-haired queen’s expression turned unreadable.

Helaena swallowed her wounded pride of being ignored and not found as an interesting companion, playing with her knife and fork, digging at the roast beef the same way her young daughter would.

As the servants gather the finished main course meals and replace them with fresh fruit and lemon cakes for dessert, Rhaenyra swiftly suggests for the elder Targaryen sister to read out some of the poetry her mother praised earlier.

“You must share with us your talent in verse and poetry, Lady Helaena.”

Relieved, the indigo hued girl stood up at the end of the table, grabbing her little booklet hidden in the pockets of her skirt. Flipping through its parchment pages, she settles to a recent entry close to the end of the worn out leather bound book, covered with an embroidered beetle.

To want is the most natural thing Inherent in the blood through our veins The very primal urge of our being Yet we will always want, and want With no end like a black hole What better to want what is not ours? To covet what the other possesses To take away what is given as easily as it was owned?

Her raspy voice echoed through the halls mellifluously in perfectly rehearsed High Valyrian. Yet you could not help a guilty perception weighing on you, blossoming at the pit of your stomach and you could not shake it off. You were doing nothing wrong, you told yourself, wanting to believe in it but it felt wrong.

Y/N’s fears arose to the surface when she could feel a burning stare on her face intensely, as if memorizing her very form and that she would disappear into nothing anytime. You were listening as intently as you could, yet when you turned, Jacaerys did not pay mind to a single word Helaena said as his focus was fixated on you.

No, no, no. Nothing was going as planned. Everything was going wrong. She praises whatever gods intervened when the heir’s brother Prince Lucerys gracefully diverted the topic into the new cuisines created by the cooks of the Keep with the freshest catches of seafood from Driftmark.

…

“Y/N, what do you think you were doing out there?! Do you think I do not notice your need to always be the centre of attention?” The shrill shrieking of her mother’s voice pierced through her ear drums, yet Y/N was unsurprised and used to such altercations with her mother.

Following the uneasy supper, the three ladies from Dalston Keep returned to their chambers to change midday in preparation for the tour around the gardens with the queen and her heir again after a few hours of respite.

Silently humiliated as they reconvened in private, the illusion of propriety that Lady Alicent carried in front of the queen and prince ripped away, unleashing a ferocity unrestrained like never before.

“I did nothing, mother. I was polite and engaged in a conversation when I was spoken to.”

“You did more than that, you foolish girl! It was about your sister. All of this was about her, not you! Is it so difficult for you to tone down your tendencies for once so we can go according to the arrangement? You put our fortunes up to be desolated. You are as careless as your father!” The sting of her final words hung in the air, salt over the open wound for such a loss. Y/N knew her mother did not love her father, who was older than her own father, and only did her duty to her ailing, troubled, aging husband.

“Mother, that is enough! Do not bring father into this.” Helaena countered exasperatedly, holding onto her sister by her shoulders in defense. “Y/N did nothing wrong. It was..it was me. I should have engaged with the prince more. She did me a favour.”

Y/N gasps in disbelief, astonished her beloved sister would keep taking her side when it was clear she was the wounded party.

“Do not worry about it, mother. I promise I will remain silent from now on. I want this to be Helaena’s night.” Y/N swears sincerely, wanting to defend Helaena and stay away from any trouble from now on.

Alicent does not fully believe her youngest, but nods solemnly as she seeks to move this behind them, returning to her dignified, contemplating gaze with her perfect posture and arms clasped at her waist.

Subsequently, a drove of maids and seamstresses poured in, as Alicent went to her solitary room while the sisters shared a larger room. Each stepped on the raised wooden platform. Taking lush gowns from the closet, they plucked out a rich emerald green gown with fitted sleeves for Helaena.

Meanwhile, a muted seafoam gown was placed on Y/N, as maids scuttered behind her to tighten the corset and laces. Y/N whimpered quietly in discomfort, never finding any gratification in restrictive court dress upheld by centuries of protocol and conduct. It barred her sense of freedom, clipped off her wings from flight and reminded her of a bird in a cage.

Heirloom pieces of emerald silver lined jewelry were given to Helaena, designed to accentuate her beauty and prepare her for her upcoming role and ascent into her duty. As the daylight trickled in through the lace curtains and open windows, she looked like a future queen. A role she was raised to be. Otherworldly and ethereal, while Y/N was grounded to the earth, locks like flames and soil.

Y/N beamed in delight for her older sister, squeezing her hands in reassurance. Helaena reciprocated not as enthusiastically, the nerves still getting to her as her palms were sweating and shaking.

“You have nothing to worry about, Hel. We would not get this far if he did not consider you his bride already.”

“Truly, do you really think so?”

“I do. Without a doubt. You already look the part. It is only the formality left we are waiting for at the ball.”

The elder genuinely chuckled this time in relief, her joy finally meeting her eyes from the comfort and encouragement of her sister.

“Now, all that is left is for you to step into your destiny.”

…

Manicured gardens flourished in the peak of spring, cicadas chirping from the branches of oak trees. Lilies and carnations in hues of apricot and blush, while the outlying paths were paved in blue hydrangeas and violet peonies.

Queen Rhaenyra adorned a lapis lazuli blue gown adorned in gold trimmings and sapphires sewn onto her bodice, matching the stone necklace of the color on her neck and matched her tiara, a reminder of her late mother and former queen.

She pleasantly strolled with a natural confidence, carrying herself with an ease afforded by one who has known privilege and power all her life. Guiding a tour around the Red Keep at the height of its social season, Rhaenyra proudly showed off her domains, and subtly if so, the lands that Helaena would take care of as its hostess after she marries Jacaerys and becomes his queen when the time comes.

Behind her was her eldest Crown Prince Jacaerys, always without a hair or trivet out of place, the picture of perfection that she had groomed since his birth. Dressed more casually in teal with the seahorse emblem on his chest, he honoured his late father Lord Laenor Velaryon, further dispelling any rumours or uncertainty around his paternity.

Although he did not directly resemble his father, he has begun to share features with his paternal grandmother Princess Rhaenys with her Baratheon colouring, and the shape of his nose and chin mirrored her father, who was another Prince of Dragonstone, Prince Aemon the Pale Prince. As rider of Vermax, it was undeniable he was the prince long awaited by the realm, whom millions of hopes and dreams were instilled in.

Standing beside him was Lady Helaena Targaryen, his expected betrothed in everything but formality. Raised with the intention of becoming a princess consort, she was demure, shy, obedient and trusting, exactly what the people of Westeros wanted of their model future queen. Proven in her success of childbearing, onlookers examined her critically on baited breath as they wanted to know who will bear the next generation of Targaryen rulers on the Iron Throne.

Their chaperons trailed behind them, Lady Alicent arm in arm with Lady Y/N, in the same shade of muted green, but her mother had visible symbols of the Faith of the Seven from her necklace, her dark headdress and veil, and on the cuffs on her wrist and belt. Y/N distractedly took in her sights, studying every nook and cranny of the storied palace with eagerness and pursuit.

“This garden still follows the design plan created by Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror herself, yet it was only finished years after her passing in Dorne.”

The queen continued the tour of the keep, while she discreetly eavesdropped on the conversation between her heir and his expected betrothed. The two were engaging pleasantly yet amiably on the surface level, their dialogue not reaching too far. Unaware of a figure parting at the fork and heading another direction.

…

When she is assured she’s clear and no one can find her, Y/N Targaryen smirks victoriously as she heads straight and turns left towards the barn, near the dragonpit, where the horses and grazing animals were located.

On nimble footsteps, through the mud and manure, she makes a run for it as two stableboys turn the corner and miss her, as they forgot to close the stables and she sneaks in.

As the afternoon light trickles in, Y/N looks around curiously, before her attention is caught by this white mare, with its freshly brushed mane and shining horsehair, an anomaly among ebony and hickory. Not wanting to startle the majestic creature, she prances until she’s in front of the horse, hushing and cooing at them as she latches onto the reins.

She holds the mane by her reins, tugging gently as she walks through the barn and the empty backwaters of the ancient castle. It is quiet, with most servants resting for their annual nap and their morning duties finished, so Y/N is able to ride the stallion undiscovered.

The lingering scent of the manure and greenery turns into salty waters of aegean and spruce and the earthy, musty petrichor from the rain on the fir and cedar trees earlier in the morning.

A hint of the cool breeze tingles through her skin, a dress and not proper riding gear in its leathers and furs, but she brushes it off, as King’s Landing in the spring at this time of the year has turned warm and the rain from earlier is long gone.

She rides as far as her companion will allow, until the peripheral view of the Red Keep grows distant from over her shoulder. Y/N stops at the fork of the road before it joins the greater Kingsroad, diverting by the forest with towering trees and fallen logs. Sitting by the foot of a trunk, Y/N pauses for some stillness, her back pressing against the hard trunk as she closes her eyes, before grabbing an apple and vial of water to share with her stallion.

As she and the mare finish the fruit, she stands up to brush off any leaf and dirt on the back of her skirt, about to mount once again before she hears echoes of confrontation growing closer. Y/N has barely begun to leave the forest and return to the artery before she is surrounded by hooded, disheveled men with smug expressions.

Unable to avoid contact, she politely acknowledges them and pulls her cape over her flaming locks before she is stopped from moving in either direction. “Good morrow, sirs.”

She yelps as she’s grabbed by her wrists by the men, struggling to stay on her saddle as the mare turns skittish. “Not so fast, my lady. We need something from ya, and you gotta pay up for our silence. Comes with a price.” The men smirk, distant galloping approaching them.

Y/N yelps as she is knocked off her horse, hitting her head against the rock and all turns into darkness around her. She hears a distant echo of another mount heading her way, furious yelling and clattering swords. Her head throbs, feeling the blood dripping down her nape, as her eyes flutter closed.

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petit-etoile · 1 year ago

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Oh oh I have an AU I haven't had the chance to write anything for. It's pre-vampirism magistrate Astarion and criminal tav who is incredibly well-versed in law. They keep committing crimes and getting caught in purpose just to see Astarion who fucking hates their guts because he can't ever convict them of anything bc they find loopholes and somehow manage to evade the law. It's an "at each other's throats" kinda romance and they kiss with teeth between cases

darling, if you love me say it back

pairing . ⊱ astarion x tav wordcount . ⊱ 3,604 content warnings . ⊱ canon compliant temporary character death, tav isn't a human but can be whatever else you like, astarion isn't a vampire yet, tav is gender neutral other tags . ⊱ canon compliant, canon temporary character death, introspection, p.orn without plot, oral s/ex, desk s.ex, inappropriate use of a cravat, c.reampie archiveofourown . ⊱ here.

taglist . ⊱ @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia, @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene be added . ⊱ here .

summary . ⊱ The Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin has a soft spot for you. You like to exploit that fact.

‘I need to see you in my office,’ Astarion hisses — and the tips of his ears are so red you think they might catch flame. He grabs you by the elbow roughly and tugs. ‘Now.’

‘Let’s do it, baby,’ you say smugly. ‘I know the law.’

Knowing the law might be an overstatement. You have studied the law for only one purpose, and that purpose you know like the back of your hand. So when Astarion presses you, you don’t argue. You do as the magistrate says and allow yourself to be dragged across the court. He admonishes you like one would get onto a dog who misbehaves. You can’t help but laugh.

It isn’t like Astarion isn’t a super serious magistrate with a focus on criminal prosecution. He wants to nail you for your sins, for your crimes. The only catch is that no matter how amazing Astarion is at his job, you’re simply better. If you’ve stolen something, you’re more than capable of hiding the evidence. If you’ve murdered someone, you know all the best ways to hide a body. It comes naturally.

Astarion is wearing that ever familiar frown as he marches through the elegant halls. It’s a frown that says you’re in trouble and there’s nothing that I can do. But that isn’t necessarily true. Astarion will do anything you ask so long as you ask nicely, and you’ve been getting good at asking nicely lately. He prides himself in training you even if it isn’t that simple. He calls it rehabilitation. You call it sex.

‘You can’t keep doing this, you know,’ Astarion snaps at you. ‘At some point you must give it up!’

He isn’t good at whispering when he’s riled up. He runs his free hand through his curls in anger, pushing them away from his face like his bangs being wild make it hard to think. It makes him more attractive.

‘You don’t mean that,’ you say with a shrug.

‘I do,’ he says, ‘very much mean that.’

You grin. ‘You would miss me,’ you tell him lasciviously, and he groans. ‘I know you would.’

He huffs. ‘The only thing that I would miss is the peace after the headache you’ve given me. It’s as though you aren’t even aware of how vexing you are.’

You laugh, and the fine line of Astarion’s temper snaps. He all but throws you in his office and locks it behind him. He’s annoyed with the way you stagger dramatically to one of the velvet couches before his desk. You lean over the arm and kick your feet up.

‘Does the idea of cuffs around my wrists excite you?’

You look over your shoulder. Astarion clenches his jaw. It must hurt to frown as hard as he is. You pull yourself onto the cushions and sit demurely. You study him. His rigid lines, tense gaze. He comes and sits on the edge of his desk, pressing his forehead into his hands as if that will relieve him of his headache. You’re determined to make it worse.

‘I apologize,’ you say sweetly. ‘I’ll behave from now on.’

‘We both know that you are not capable of behaving,’ Astarion says thinly.

He shouldn’t have said that. You can’t help yourself, but most of the time, Astarion makes it so easy for you to dig into his weaknesses and exploit them. You stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

‘You should teach me,’ you suggest.

Astarion’s patience snaps. ‘I beg your pardon? Have some decorum, please!’

‘Having decorum is so boring,’ you say, pouting. ‘Life is much more fun when you live freely.’

‘And committing crimes is your definition of living freely?’

‘What is the point of living if not to live?’ you ask. ‘Why confine myself to rules of good or bad when I can choose what makes me happy.’

‘What exactly makes a criminal like you happy?’ Astarion asks bitterly.

You’ve always been possessed by a sense of otherness. You rise from the couch and carefully twist your fingers in his cravat, tangling yourself in him as he has become entangled in you. The Silverymoon lace tickles your skin. You pull Astarion closer and he begrudgingly caves to your strength. Your lips barely brush against his and already you can sense it. The barely contained restraint. The hunger. Astarion longs for you. He’s carefully hidden it beneath the scent of bergamot.

Slowly, you slide him free of what pressures him most. The cravat slides from his neck easily. It excites Astarion. His eyes glitter like you’ve never seen before. Being a magistrate isn’t about caring about the laws he’s vowed to uphold. It’s about power. You give it to him. You hold your wrists together with a wicked grin.

You balance the fabric on your fingers. Astarion swallows. Being proper isn’t really his thing. It’s thrilling to watch as he changes his mind. You annoy him — he detests you, wishes you gone. You are the object of all his improper late night dreams.

But as if he’s moving through water, he takes his cravat from your hands. You almost think it’s going to be a rejection. Astarion bundles your wrists together with an expertise that suggests he’s done it before. The binding becomes tight but not too tight and you relish in the way it twists your wrists. He fastens the knot into a pretty bow.

And then he kisses you. He grabs you so roughly by the back of the neck that your teeth slam together, but Astarion sighs so prettily against your mouth you decide you could withstand anything.

It’s a passionate kiss made up of teeth and spit and tongue. Astarion is both pushing you and pulling you. He can’t make up his mind. Does he want you and the stain you’ll bring to his reputation? A magistrate with a weakness for a criminal is such an interesting dynamic, but Astarion is a proud man. You are almost certain he would throw you into harm’s way if a situation ever occurred that deemed it necessary. You would do the same given the chance. This is simply a tryst.

You like to pretend it is, at least. You hate coming across as a romantic. You chase a freedom so exquisite no one will ever understand it, but when Astarion pushes you towards the couch, you don’t complain. You fall across the cushions with ease and catch him as he falls between your thighs.

‘You,’ Astarion accuses hotly, ‘are an irrevocable annoyance I may never be cured of.’

‘You are so very frank in all the ways you despise me,’ you say, moaning softly as he kisses your neck. ‘I think you’re capable of being freed after all.’

‘I am glad to see you are finally aware that it is hate that drives me,’ Astarion murmurs thickly. ‘It repulses me that you think you could possibly be endearing.’

You laugh and Astarion sucks a bruise into your collarbone. He’ll pretend to be aloof and noncommittal to your very presence, but he’s invested. You can feel the weight of his pleasure against your thighs even as he denies his feelings for you. Astarion doesn’t bother with your shirt or his own. He clings to your waist as he finds the lace of your breeches and tugs you free.

Astarion pushes his hand inside of your smallclothes and touches your flushed skin, spreading his fingers so that he can touch every inch your body has to offer. The fervor of the motion is what causes you to gasp. He’s a man on a mission, and he touches you at your core so adoringly it makes the bite of his words all but disappear. He fondles you like he’s never touched your skin before. Your gasp turns to a sultry whine, and he bites your neck like a punishment. You almost think he’s going to admonish you, that he’ll say your silence is worth more. He doesn’t. If anything, the echo of your voice spurns him to go further.

Astarion presses two fingers inside of you and the laughter dies in your chest. He’s trying to rearrange you through a perverse method. If he fucks you good enough, crime’s appeal will turn to dust within your mind. It makes you wonder what it would be like to dote on a magistrate. Would it be enough? Could it be enough? Sinning feels just as sweet.

He curls his fingers against your core and your back arches prettily off the velvet cushions. You bite your bottom lip and try to quell the pining, but then you catch a glimpse of him from beneath your eyelashes. Astarion is watching your every move. His lips are parted. His pupils are dilated. His cheeks have colored at the sound of your voice. He is torn between watching your face for your reactions and glancing down at his hand underneath your breeches. You meet his gaze bravely, chin lifting, and smile.

He adds another just to watch you struggle. The angle, the curve of his wrist, and the situation are enough to make your thighs squeeze together, but Astarion doesn’t let you. He roughly throws himself between your legs so that you can’t, and it’s hot, too hot that you cry weakly. He grins at the sound like he always does, like he always will. It’s his victory this evening.

But as quickly as Astarion deigned to touch you, he releases you. He stands up and drags you by the wrists, turning his cheek the other way when you try to taste his skin.

‘The prosecutor is ineffectual — ’

You snort without meaning to, and Astarion digs his fingers into the swell of your hip. You allow him to maneuver you, bending at the waist while he presses you forward, chest against the chilled wood of his desk. You have to rise on your toes to stand comfortably.

‘Is that what you’re thinking about?’ you ask breathlessly.

‘I’m thinking about the necessary reform,’ Astarion snaps.

You press your cheek into the wood and stare at his door. The prosecutor, the defense. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Astarion is the only one who cares. You’re somewhat glad he does. It means he’s taken your case to interest, and when he presses himself to your lower back, you’re excited. He shoves your breeches to your ankles.

‘Are you going to take me here?’ you murmur. ‘On your desk. Where is your propriety?’

‘You dare speak to me of decency?’ Astarion snorts.

‘The weight of my sins will be forever embedded on your desk,’ you say. ‘You flatter me, your honor.’

‘Do you ever stop talking?’ Astarion asks. You can hear his patience snapping.

‘Well, you’re just so boring,’ you say, laughing. ‘Why don’t you do something that — ’

Astarion kneels down behind you and shoves his way between your legs. You shiver when he presses his lips against your core. He mouths at you hungrily. He grunts low in the back of his throat and digs his nails into your thighs. It steals your breath away. He’s so determined to change the very essence of your being that his tongue and mouth searching where his fingers first were makes you go weak in the knees. You whine.

You press your fingers into the dark, rich mahogany of his desk and try to keep focus. You want to taunt him. You want to tease him, but that wanton desire is almost forgotten entirely by the way Astarion feasts upon your flesh. He parts you with his thumbs and groans against your skin and you almost forget who you are. This is what he wanted. He wanted to pull your desires from you and replace them with his own.

You let him. He works you up as easily as anyone can be worked up, his fingers and his mouth exploring every inch of your skin that’s exposed. He goes to slide a finger in curiously, but you twist your hips away. Astarion is all work and no play. He will tease you relentlessly as it suits him, and he will do what interests him. You interest him more than he’s willing to confess. That’s why he works so hard for your pleasure.

When he’s done with you, he kisses the base of your spine soothingly. Your legs tremble beneath you. Astarion smooths his hand across your hip. You glance at him.

‘Perhaps I can fuck some sense into you now,’ Astarion mumbles.

He has the audacity to sound inquisitive. It’s not like it’s possible, but he seems determined enough to try it out regardless of his intuition. His hands are warm against your skin, and the excitement only builds in the pit of your stomach as you feel Astarion’s skin touch yours. You hear his clothes rustle and his breath catch in his throat. You hide a smile against your arm.

When Astarion slides into your core, it’s like a possession. The breath steals from your lungs. His touch is a familiar constant — you would recognize him anywhere by scent alone. You cry weakly. Your toes crunch from the angle, but there’s nothing you want more at this moment than to learn to be good.

Astarion hums behind you as well, his fingers digging into your hips as he tries to steady himself. The desk crunches uncomfortably against your belly but it’s a welcome pain. It keeps you focused. You still have the energy to wiggle back against him as his cock slowly pushes in until there is no more room left to explore.

‘Be good,’ he whispers, ‘and I will give you what you deserve.’

What do you deserve exactly?

It’s hard to say. You enjoy your life of crime almost as much as you love the way Astarion bends you over his desk. You’re good at stealing, you’re good at killing, but you’re good at being soft and pliant as well, giving in to that sentimentality that keeps you coming back from more.

At first it was an elaborate game. What could you do to ensure that Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin looked your way? He was a noble elf, and your hands were covered in fresh dough from the baker you stole from. There was a curious glint in his eyes when he looked over you, yet somehow the gods had deemed the yeast and honey on your fingers was not honest enough to be proof.

You are smitten. You bounce taller on your toes with every aggressive thrust, arms struggling to support your weight. Astarion fists his fingers into your hair and pulls until your throat is exposed. He wants you to sing for him, so you do. You arch your back and moan loudly. The sounds of it bounce around his little office.

‘You wouldn’t shut up before,’ Astarion says breathlessly, a hoarse laugh.

‘Do something — worth talking about — ’

Astarions laughs incredulously, but he does fuck you harder for it. He releases your hair without much flourish and focuses on dragging your hips back onto his cock, punching forward so hard you see stars. It’s wonderful, it’s powerful. If Astarion’s entire goal was to make you forsake the world, he’s done a good job of turning your life around. The cravat rubs against your wrists as you try to seek purchase on the desk. Your fingers drag across the polished wood, and you shudder as you clench down around his cock.

You sound so breathless and silly, groaning while he fucks you against his desk. He fills you full until you’re certain you can take no more. You press a hot cheek against the wood and try to catch your breath. You hook a foot around his ankle for support, twisting on his desk. You tuck your arms beneath your chest. You feel as though you’re coming undone. All your years of villainy, and it comes undone by the consistency of Astarion’s presence.

Your arms are stiff from constantly being up, but you’re almost grateful when Astarion pauses. He helps you turn on top of his desk so you’re on your back instead, and even though the edge digs into your lower back, you prefer that to anything else.

You meet Astarion’s gaze. He tells you he hates you, that he wishes you were out of his hair, that he despises you, but the gentleness of his eyes tells you otherwise. He slides back into you with a small moan, and you wrap your legs around his hips to guide him in further.

‘It’s good,’ you gasp. ‘It’s good, you’re good — ’

Astarion doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. You can see it clear as day in his eyes. Astarion won’t say he loves you, that in his ardent fervor he seeks you out, but he knows that you know. Why else would fate lead you back together? You reach for his face with your hands, and his eyes flutter closed to avoid the wistfulness. He leans into your touch.

You cry softly as Astarion begins to grind into you again. He helps carry you as he does so. And it feels so good, feels so overwhelming that you briefly consider the fact that he has changed you for the better.

A spirit that slides into your very marrow. Astarion is hauntingly beautiful, and if he is a spider then you are a fly tangled in his web. He calls you a pretty thing and you give into the struggle. You press your wrists against your forehead and strain against his cock, unable to hide from the waves of crashing pleasure.

Astarion finishes inside of you with a low moan. He presses a rough hand against your belly to stabilize himself, and shyly, you touch his wrist with your bound hands just to feel his pulse. As soon as he’s caught his breath, he releases you from your bonds.

You almost miss him when he pulls away from you. He uses one of his hanging cassocks to clean himself with and is kind enough to do the same for you. You’re almost certain that your legs won’t work, so you sit up on his desk to rest and damn his paperwork to the hells. You kick off your breeches from around your ankles and sit, legs crossed, while Astarion tries to fix his reflection in the mirror.

‘You are truly an astute teacher,’ you say casually. ‘The art of lockpicking is all but gone from my mind. Thank you, your honor.’

Astarion snorts and shakes his head, torn between ignoring you and giving into your wiles. He curls his hair back into place and then walks back to you, leaning forward until you’re nose to nose.

You think he won’t kiss you, but then he does. His lips taste like summer oranges and you taste him until it’s the only thing you can think of. He hugs you tenderly. It isn’t the same as when he admonishes you. It makes your chest feel warm. You almost feel weaker for it. Your bite is being taken away.

‘I can’t keep protecting you,’ Astarion says softly against your cheek. ‘You torment me day and night. When I lie down in my sheets, I find myself consumed with worry.’

‘You think about me?’ you tease. ‘In your sprawling manse?’

‘Move in with me,’ he murmurs. ‘Then you can be inferior yet vain inside my sprawling manse.’

Astarion is not there that evening. You try to wait as long as you can without seeming suspicious. There are maids, family members, and their admirers who come inside and out throughout the evening — but not Astarion, never Astarion. You wait until the sun sets and fireflies light up the streets of the Upper City but eventually, the malaise of abandonment guides your feet away. You walk the streets aimlessly until a shiver runs down your spine. A chill so violent turns you away from the courthouse.

But in the morning, there’s a fuss. It draws you back into where you left and you can’t help but to lose yourself. Astarion is dead. His mother sobs. The members of the city watch who bear the bad news look equally as morose. Astarin’s father nearly falls to his knees in despair.

When you break into their manse that evening, you look for one thing. You steal a cravat from his wardrobe and tie it around your neck.

Then, you leave Baldur’s Gate.

You aren’t sure where your feet are going to take you.

Part of your yearns for the Underdark. Baldur’s Gate is a cursed city, you decide. You wander back to it after two hundred years of avoiding it like the plague, and not an hour within the city are you spirited away on an adventure you never longed for.

You have changed. You can’t really remember who you were all those years ago, or the hopefulness you might have felt in your chest once. You’re different now. A folk hero. You used to steal from the rich and give to the poor before the mindflayers fed you their parasite and stole that part of you. But you aren’t alone this time. You wander the beach for hours searching for anything that can be of use and pause over a love letter that makes you sob.

It isn’t all bad. You meet a half-elf who scowls as much as she mumbles to herself.

On the other side of the beach, you meet a ghost.

His eyes are different from what you remember. The warmth he once looked upon you with is gone and replaced by unfamiliar sanguine.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion smut #bg3 smut #from ，carcosa .#my fic #hyliandreso #you know i hit the prompt square on & then threw in a plot twist #is it really a carcosa fic if there isn't a plot twist somewhere #* say what you want，even if it's bad

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shallowseeker · 13 days ago

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theres a cut line from the drafts of ouroboros where jack says "i'm a winchester, i'm the chicken And the snake" and i think about that line a lot.

he gave up something he loved (his soul) to destroy something he hated (michael) and he was too "greedy" (in a sense, he missed his old power a lot and had he not healed cas he mightve had a sliver of his soul left) and it killed him (his soul). i understand why that line was cut (redundancy was probably a factor) but i wish it had been kept. hes the chicken and the snake......

Yes, I do love this line. It's the duality of it all. And I think it's also the horror of the cosmic hierarchy. To the livestock, we are their Leviathan. But the Leviathan treating us as livestock in season 7 is a campy horror show!

I don't think Jack is uniquely dual-natured (because I think everyone in the entire show is), but Jack's symbolic nature is pretty heavy-handed in its symbolism!

Here again we have the word "nothing," that is so often applied to Jack. He is the chicken sacrificing his soul and becoming the snake (angel).

youtube

The grace twists like a snake, as Jack becomes an ouroboros after sacrificing his soul, the snake consuming the snake.

I love this moment because Jack is specifically saving Rowena, the same woman his father murdered:

////

I think this has some interesting things in common with Cas's consumption of Theo, way back in season 9. It certainly characterizes Cas's panic. Jack is becoming like Cas here, like Cas's family, specifically. Snakes. Beasts. Burning serpents. Barbarians. Creatures of war. (War, where even Lucifer is happiest, needed. Note: Lucifer was attentive to Kevin Tran, the AU refugees, Jack, and Dean during his stent in Apocalypse-verse. He was happy there, too. Lucifer is happiest as the underdog, not God.)

///

CASTIEL: I'll – I'll need a moment to make contact. (THEO waits.) And you have something that I'll need. THEO: Anything. CASTIEL grabs one of the medical implements and slices THEO in the throat, letting his white grace slip out; CASTIEL opens his mouth and swallows it. Mm. (CASTIEL groans; the grace fills him up; his eyes turn blue; THEO stares in dazed recrimination, blood dripping from his neck. CASTIEL looks at him, then puts a hand to his forehead; THEO screams, his angelic white light bursts out of him, and he falls to the ground his eyes burned out. 9x09

CASTIEL: He had me. I, uh, I was tortured. But I got away. DEAN: How? CASTIEL: I... I did what I had to. I became what they've become. A barbarian. ...

CASTIEL: It's better I stay away. They're gonna want me even more now. But I'm gonna be all right. I... I got my Grace back. Well, not mine per se, but it'll do. DEAN: Wait, you're – you're back? You got your mojo? CASTIEL: I'm not sure. But I am an angel. DEAN: And you're okay with that? CASTIEL: If we're going to war, I need to be ready.

You are an angel, once and forever. (Hannah, 10x01)

JACK (to DEAN): I don't think you have a firm grasp on what snakes eat. (14x15)

DEAN: There's no use asking "why me?" 'Cause the angels – they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just... breaks them apart. (7x21)

CAS: You understand? I can't. I destroyed...everything, and I will destroy everything again. (7x23)

It's what serpents do. When they enter gardens, all they know how to do is consume and destroy.

#spn 14x14 #spn 14x15 #spn 7x21 #spn 7x23 #spn 10x01 #jack stuff #the story of the chicken and the black snake #dean thinks he's venomous... but it's actually--#anyway the worst fate mary could imagine for her kids was to become hunters #and the worst fate cas imagines for jack is to be an angel #to cas a hunter is quaint even noble... which is why claire's path is not one of horror for him in the end #what he REALLY doesn't want is angelic nature which is to him the worst bloodiest fate he can imagine #a hunter's nature dialed up to 10000000 in the worst way with no emotions no life

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tooxmanyxships · 8 months ago

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Hiii, i have a prompt for Maxiel if thats alright? Would be *is that my shirt?* But also with like gettin together? If nah thats good too. Thanks ❤️

Ah Maxiel, my beloved ❤️‍🩹

Have some soccer AU

Being in a changing room full of men was always quite a....mess. With the lack of a better word.

Clothes were strown around haphazardly, so at the end of training or match, they always had to look around to find their clothes.

Some already looked for theirs before they hit the showers. Others just jumped straight under the water stream.

It was always funny to see grown men scramble around in search of their shirts or even pants sometimes.

It was easy to leave without a shirt. Without some pants would be a little more frowned upon.

Sometimes shirts were just being forgotten in the changing room.

Or they ended up with someone the shirt didn't belong to.

That's exactly what happened to Max.

Max hated walking around without a shirt. Sure, when he was on vacation at the beach or on a boat it was fine. But in normal dayly life, Max always wore a shirt.

The problem was---he couldn't find it.

He thought he placed it on the seat on the bench beside where he was seated, but it wasn't there anymore.

He looked a second time. And a third. Even looked underneath it. His shirt wasn't there.

He looked around the room and finally found it. Or at least he thought he did.

Until he pulled it on and it was just a little too big on him.

He was the only one in the changing room. The others were still in the showers.

He simply didn't feel like waiting on them to ask whose shirt this was, so he just pulled it on and left.

He always was the first one to get there and the first one to leave. Nobody would be surprised.

~~*~~

Max was late. He hates being late.

He quickly pulled on the first set of clothes that didn't smell too bad, shoved some food down his throat, grabbed his bag and out he went.

By the time he made it to the changing room there were already some guys there, luckily for him they didn't pay him much attention. Only a few eyebrow raises at him being late.

There was one person who seemed to keep on staring at him tho as soon as he dropped his jacket.

Max raised an eyebrow, but their number 3 didn't look away.

Max deliberately turned his back to him as he took off his shirt and got into his training gear.

When he turned around again, he didn't feel any eyes on him anymore.

But that had been a little weird....

~~*~~

It's after the training and all the other guys are hitting the showers, so Max gets out of the way, towel wrapped around his waist.

He pulls on his boxers, then drops the towel. He towels off his hair one more time before pulling on the shirt that's miraculously still in the same spot he left it.

Now he realizes it's that shirt that's just a little too big on him....

"Is that my shirt?"

Max's head whips around. Daniel, their number 3, is standing in the doorway between the showers and the changing room.

Then he starts moving towards Max and Max panics.

"Hmm," Daniel touches the hem of his - - - - of Daniel's---- shirt that he's wearing, inspecting it. "Yep. That's my shirt, Verstappen."

The way he says his last name makes Max shiver.

Damn.

Damn his stupid crush on this damn man.

"I---" Come on, Max. Speak. "I can give it back."

Daniel lets go of the hem of his - - - the shirt. Runs his hand over the fabric. Over Max's chest

"Nah. You can keep it." A smile. A damn wink. "It suits you, Maxie."

Maxie

Daniel turns around, having no shame in wiggling his towel hidden ass as he walks towards his space on the bench.

Max has no shame in watching that ass wiggle as it walks away either. No matter how stunned he is.

Will there be more of these 2 in this verse? Who knows....

#f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #maxiel #Daniel Ricciardo x max verstappen #Daniel Ricciardo/max verstappen #My writing

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risingsoleil · 7 months ago

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Thank you for all these NSFW posts, you’re feeding the fandom mwah!

Saw your other post where Linzin in the canon verse about Tenzin griping Lin’s throat. Maybe this could be a new chapter in Lay All Your love on me ;)

Or a short post too! Hahaha

To add to all the asks:

Linzin favorite position?

Newly wed Linzin (modern or canon universe) being unable to keep their hands to themselves (especially Tenzin)

Tenzin and Lin finding out new kinks

Thank you, I'm doing my best ~~ I'm on my lunch break at work trying to keep up with all this spicy Linzin demand 🤭😈

Oh, that will def make an appearance at some point in the Lay All Your Love on Me collection 😉

Linzin's favorite position

Lin - 1) Cowgirl, she loves the ability to control her movements and it's easier for Tenzin to suck on the titties compared to missionary.

2) Missionary - can scratch his back, lock her legs around him when he's about to cum. She loves his weight pushing her into the bed or the floor while he fucks her hard or slowly

3) Sideways spooning - Tenzin somehow hits all the right angles every time in this position and it's lovingly intimate. He can still massage her boobs and kiss her neck while having his leg between hers to fuck her. This position became one of her favorites after having kids.

Tenzin - 1) missionary - He can look at Lin 😍😍😍

2) Doggy - Smack dat ass, grab dat ass, stare at dat ass. Also pull Lin's hair. He feels like he goes deeper in this angle and Lin acts like she doesn't love this position. Apparently, she can never say his name properly when he fucks her from behind and smacks her ass. ("Shut up, Airhead.")

3) Lin is on top - Boobs in his face. Boobs in his hands. Watching Lin move and grind her hips on him gets him harder inside her. The way she slides up and down on his dick, knowing that she's taking him all the way inside is indescribable to Tenzin. Lin thinks she knows what he means, but she doesn't (Lin throws a book at him).

Newlywed AU Linzin

Guaranteed way to make Tenzin hard? Lin wears acolyte robes.

They're at one of the air temples for more privacy from RC, and there's already a room prepared for them. The head abbott greets them politely along with several other acolytes, and they are shocked at how Tenzin openly puts his hand on Lin's waist in front of them.

The abbott is struggling to get his words out, and Tenzin's fingers play along Lin's waist. Lin can sense the awkwardness for the abbott and tries to take a step away from Tenzin. But he only pulls her closer so she's pressed against his side.

"Thank you Abbott for greeting us. Lin and I are tired from the journey and we'd like to go to our room."

"O-of course."

As soon as the abbott and the acolytes turn around, Tenzin's hand slides down to squeeze Lin's ass. Lin smirks at him and smacks his butt. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard as soon as we get inside. Be prepared to be pampered for the entire week because I'm going to make sure you won't be able to walk properly."

He massages her butt and smacks it again.

A low squeak comes from near Oogi, and Linzin notice another young acolyte.

Oops, did that innocent acolyte accidentally see Tenzin smacking her?

"If you won't let me walk, then I won't let you walk either. I'll be riding you morning and night until you've emptied everything inside me."

Now the abbott and acolytes glanced at them with red faces.

Oops. Did Lin talk too loud?

AU Linzin finding out new kinks

Roleplay - begins when teen Lin starts calling Tenzin, "Master" Now they've expanded into other scenarios as they get older

Sensory deprivation - inspired by Toph's "blindness" not seeing with their eyes and feeling the smallest sensation on their bodies is so hot. The first time they do this is in their early to mid-20s

Sensory play - Begins in their early-mid 20s as they travel more often and use their environment to turn the other on

Dom and sub - Kicks in when they start working. They hate the politics and social games they sometimes need to play in the careers they want, so they channel their frustration through some dom and sub. Usually, it's Tenzin initiating this and Lin doesn't mind because she loves that rough side that comes out. It gives her a break to get hot, subtly disrespectful sex that she would only let Tenzin do to her

#linzin #lin beifong #tenzin #tlok #nsft

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anewkindofme · 4 months ago

Text

Thank you for the tag @the-flaming-nightmare

This is a look at one of my Whumptober one shots. It's not related to any of my verses, but is an AU of "what if TK went into a coma after his overdose in the pilot, meaning Owen didn't know the reason behind it and called Alex because, ya know, you should call your son's fiance..."

---

A nurse enters as Owen slides his phone back into his pocket. “I need to grab my son’s fiance. I’ll be right back. If you could…” He knows TK is not her only patient. Asking her to babysit is silly…

And yet, the older, grandmotherly-looking nurse smiles. “Of course I can stay with him until you get back, Mr. Strand.”

Owen nods. The first smile since he realized TK was missing forms on his face. “Thank you.”

Alex is still in his work clothes: a suit and tie. He’s looking at his phone when Owen approaches him, only glancing up after the fire captain has to disguise a cough as him clearing his throat. The phone remains in hand.

“What happened?” Alex asks.

“I was hoping you could give us more answers,” Owen says. “I found TK in his apartment this morning. He overdosed.”

Alex stiffens. “What?”

“Did you know he was using?”

“I can confirm he certainly wasn’t before last night,” Alex says slowly. as if he’s carefully choosing his words. “Unless he hid it very well, but I don’t think so.”

“He’s in a medically induced coma,” Owen explains, trying to stay positive as he repeats the story for the 15th time today. “By the time I found him, he was out of it for 6 hours, give or take. They only put him under to help his lungs heal, but they say he should be up within a few days.”

Owen doesn’t give into the negative “almosts” that the doctor rattled off. No. His son will wake up.

He already lost one Tyler, he will not lose another.

Owen draws a deep breath. “What time did you leave his apartment this morning?”

Alex stares at him for a moment. The look on his face brings back Owen’s frown. When he speaks again, his voice is still slow, but now in a condescending manner. “Why would I be at his apartment this morning?”

---

No pressure tag: @pimento-playing-hopscotch, @actualalligator, @snowviolettwhite & @cianmarstoo

#wip wednesday #owen strand #tk strand #alex whatever his last name is #i don't know i don't care #9 1 1 lone star

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crow-aeris · 11 months ago

Text

WIP | Timkon sicfic ft. damian

This takes place in the Benign feathers verse, bcs i’m absolutely normal about my own au 👍🏼

===

He gasped, clenching his teeth as his dislocated wing was jostled. Tim limped along, forcing open the window to his safehouse before slipping inside.

A low whimper of pain stuttered through his throat as sweat beaded along his skin. His claws dug into the thick material of his pants, and he pressed his forehead against the cool, wooden floor. A feverish haze flitted through his mind, and Tim cursed himself for going while sick. Duke had said he'd take over for Tim, but past-Tim had been an idiot and insisted on going out as Wraith.

The falcon whimpered again, the pain throbbing uncomfortably in time with his heartbeat.

"Wraith!" someone's voice filtered through Tim's ears. Did he forget to disconnect his comm? "Wraith, what's wrong? What happened? Where are you?"

He quivered weakly. Pained chirps and calls for help escaped his lips as his trembling fingers refused to detach from his pants. Tim could hear the voice continue to call for him, but none of the words seemed to register.

There was a whooshing sound followed by something opening and closing. Tim twitched, but he couldn't lift his head from the floor. His chest felt tight, but the falcon couldn't breathe. Where did all the oxygen go?

"What happened, Birdie?" a familiar voice sighed. Dry hands gently lifted Tim's face from the floor and brushed back the sweat-slick hair that clung to his face. The cool skin pressed against his forehead, draining away the heat and peeling off the damp and uncomfortable mask.

Tim chirped weakly, his eyes still closed as he leaned into the person's touch. His claws remain fisted in his pants, and Tim doesn't think he'll be able to let go soon.

"Yeah, his right wing is dislocated, and he's running a pretty high fever," the person said. Tim whimpered at their disapproving tone, tears springing to his eyes as his grip tightened. "No, sweetheart, I'm not mad at you."

Careful fingers tugged through Tim's hair, brushing the strands, untangling the knots, and lightly scratching his scalp.

"Yeah, he's really out of it. I don't think I'll be able to pop his wing back in while he's like this. Can you send Seraph? Yeah, he'll be fine- I need whoever's closest... Okay, thank you," the hands shifted, and Tim was pulled closer into the person's embrace. The movement jostled his wing, and Tim couldn't help the pained gasp.

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts, Tim, I know. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be alright. Your brother's coming over to help pop your wing in, and you'll be all better. I know you hate it when he finds your safehouses, but I can't fix you up like this. Honestly, this is your fault. Why did you have to go out?" the person sighed, their tone incredibly fond yet equally exasperated. Tim burrowed his face into the crook of their neck, the words passing through his ears like salt through a net.

"You just had to go out patrolling today, didn't you? You know, when we first met, I thought you were gonna be an asshole like all of those other rich Gotham people. You already knew who I was back then, didn't you?

If someone had told little me that I would fall for you of all people, then I would've called them crazy! But... when you died, when I heard your heart stop... God, I think a part of me died with you. Bart just... stopped, and Cassie didn't speak at all afterward. I'm so glad you're back, Tim, and I know I don't tell you this enough, but-"

"Clone."

"... Reaper," the person's tone shifted, and Tim whined and pressed his cheek against the person's.

"Hand him over."

"I… don't think he'd like that very much."

"...Fine. Hold Timothy steady, I don't want him to jerk around and make things worse."

"Will do," they said, and Tim felt a familiar sensation spread across him. It felt similar to a comforting blanket.

Hands grabbed onto his wing, sending a shock of pain through his entire body. But before Tim could react, his wing was popped back into his socket, and he screamed.

"It's okay," the person breathed, their voice close to Tim's ear lips against the strands of his hair as the falcon sobbed, "You're okay, Tim, you're okay."

"Kon," he sobbed, "Conner, Kon- Kon."

The name tasted like a plea and a prayer on Tim's tongue as the tactile telekinesis faded from his skin.

"I'm here," The Kryptonian held him close, and Tim's talons reached up to cling to Kon's back. Tears ran rivers and trails down his face, dampening Kon's shoulders as Tim sobbed and blubbered, "I'm here- I'm here."

"He's running a fever," the other voice commented with disdain, "and delirious."

"You're just jealous that he's clinging onto me instead of you," Kon huffed, his voice bordering on smug under the worry.

"Silence yourself; you are the most inferior Kryptonian I have ever met."

"And you are the most jealous Bat I have ever met," Conner returned as he braced Tim against his hip; the alien was strong enough to carry the vigilante anyway.

Tim leaned back and rubbed his cheek against Kon's face, sighing as his feverish skin cooled slightly. A happy chirp fell from his lip as Kon pressed back, his instincts crowing in glee at the physical contact.

"You are so fortunate that I am susucceptible to diseases."

The vague cotton that stuffed his brain quickly cleared to reveal a bright recognition. Tim blinked open his eyes, wincing at the bright light before peering past Kon's shoulder to see Damian rummaging around the kitchen.

"Tt. Timothy's kitchen is so... bare."

"This isn't his main safe house," Kon said, "I'll try and get him to change into something else. Can you go and grab some medicine or something? Anything to lower his fever before it gets worse."

There was a vague hum before they were moving. Tim's eyes had slipped shut again, and he returned to his boneless state within Kon's arms.

"You're really out of it, aren't you?" Kon mused as he tried to peel a clingy Tim off of him.

He whined, pouting up at Kon when he finally managed to detangle Tim's limbs from his own, a fond smile on his face. "Come back."

"Wow, so demanding," Kon rolled his eyes, "not even a please?"

Tim pouted, "Please?"

"... Okay, that's not fair in the slightest........ Alright fine. C'mon, you shady bird, arms up!"

He grumbled but complied, sighing as Kon carefully tugged the suit off him, and the cool air graced his too-warm skin.

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m-jelly · 2 years ago

Note

Levi x reader canon verse where he is in the dining hall when reader walks in on a friends shoulder it can be like Jean or something and she is smashed. Like drunk and Levi is obviously like wtf happened and they explain that she had some drinks and we are just giggling and smiling and saying how pretty he is. He is obviously blushing and a flustered ness so he says he will take us to his or our room and as we’re walking we just start saying the most outta pocket things to him. Basically confessing our undying love for him and he is shocked and says we have to be lying so he waits till morning and we says it’s all true. So kinda like that aphrodisiac one you did reversed but with alcohol

@kenkopanda-art <3

Drunken confessions

Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Genre and tags: Canon AU, romance, fluff, confessions, becoming a couple, kissing, flustered Levi, fem Hange.

Concept: Hange and you have been out drinking for the night. You come back stumbling around and go to the main hall for food. You come across Levi. Hange explains between giggles what you'd been doing together. In your drunk state, you confess your feelings to Levi and fuss over him and compliment him. Levi takes you to bed and watches over you. The next morning Levi confronts you and you confess again.

Taglist: @levisbrat25 @ladycheesington @skittlelover69 @li-anne @youre-ackermine @nyxiieluna @nbinairyn @notgoodforlife @galactict3a @strawberrybunny123 @demonsimp6

You stumbled down the scout halls with Hange at your side. You laughed as Hange tripped over her own feet. She stopped and hushed her feet. You snorted a laugh and grabbed her hand before you pulled her along down the hall.

You did a lot of research for Hange. You were basically her admin and helped her stay organised. Erwin brought you in because Hange would get lost in her work and Moblit was one step away from a heart attack. So, you worked hard and never went out to fight titans. You enjoyed your job and you enjoyed the company around you. You liked Levi a lot.

You shoved the main hall door open and watched Hange fall inside. You laughed at her as she stumbled to catch herself. She stood up and struck a pose. You clapped your hands and giggled as she kept posing.

"Tch, what in the fuck is going on?"

Hange turned to see Levi in a dark corner nursing a cup of tea. "Oh! It's shorty!"

Levi growled. "Shut up." He glanced at you and blushed. "Damn four eyes."

You gasped and stumbled into the room so you and Levi say each other fully. "Levi!"

Levi admired you in your cute dress. He mumbled your name and looked away. "You look nice." He cleared his throat. "You get drunk with this idiot?"

You skipped over and leaned on the table to show off your cleavage to him. "You are sooooo handsome!"

He cleared his throat. "M-Me?"

You nodded and giggled. "Yes." You let out a long sigh. "You're so cute too. I just want to hug you and kiss you!"

"K-Kiss?"

You leaned closer to him. "You have the most beautiful blue eyes. I want to look into them for the rest of my life."

He whined a little. "Y-You're drunk."

"Tipsy! And still aware of my desire for you." You climbed onto the table and sat in front of Levi. "You're just so wonderful."

Levi went bright red as you sat with your dress pulled up to mid-thigh right in front of his face. "I uh...thank you."

You slipped off the table and plopped yourself onto Levi's lap. "I just like you so much."

Levi felt his heart race in his chest as you sat on his lap and played with his hair. "Th-thank you."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled his cheek. "I just want to take care of you, love you, adore you and give you all the kisses.

"That sounds perfect." He gazed at you to see you were falling asleep. "Hey, you're falling asleep on me."

You curled up a little and hummed. "Cause you're so soft, warm and cuddly."

Levi hesitated for a moment before hugging you back. "Do you really like me?"

You nodded. "I love you."

He smiled softly knowing his feelings for you were mutual. "Mm, cute brat." He looked over at Hange passed out on the table. "I'll leave her." He scooped you up and stood. "Come on you, let's get you into bed."

You whined. "I want to spend time with you! I want to give you kisses and cuddles and attention and love. Please don't put me to bed."

He walked down the hall in the candle-lit halls. He gazed down at you as you fought sleep. "You should sleep."

"No." You pouted a little. "I want to be with you."

"Tch, cute." He sighed. "Come on brat, you're tired. You'll make me worry."

"Don't worry. I worry about you. You push yourself too hard. I want you to take better care of yourself. I wish I could provide you with love and comfort, but you don't see me that way."

Levi smiled a little. "How about I tell you how I feel in the morning when you are sober."

"Okaaaaay."

Levi pushed his door open and carried you inside his office and into the back room where his bed was. He lay you down and pulled your shoes off. He tucked you under the covers. He changed into his bed things and decided he would join you. He lay next to you and sighed. He looked over at you and felt tiredness take over. He closed his eyes and soon drifted off into a sleep filled with nice dreams about you instead of nightmares.

Levi woke up before you to see you were clinging to him and he was holding you. He smiled softly and kissed your forehead making you hum in your sleep. He smiled at you as you slowly woke up. "Hungover?"

You moaned and rubbed your eyes. "No hangover, just pure embarrassment. I can't believe I was all over you last night. I'm so sorry."

Levi played with your hair. "Well, I'm sure how we are right now will hint to you how I feel about the things you said."

You frowned a little then started to realise what you were doing and where you were. "Are...are we in your bed?"

"Yes."

You whined and lowered your head. "Wow."

"So, did you mean what you said? Do you really feel that way?"

You looked Levi in the eyes and sighed. "I do. I've liked you for so long and then I fell in love with you. I meant everything I said last night." You sat up and ruffled your hair. "I understand if you don't feel the same way."

Levi sat up. "I feel the same."

"You do?"

He cupped your face and kissed you. "I do. I'm not very good with my words and I never told you because I don't think it's possible for someone to love me or like me, but I feel so deeply for you." He tapped his forehead against yours. "Can I keep you as mine? I promise to take care of you and love you for all our lives and beyond."

"Yes." You smiled softly and kissed him. You both softly laughed as you kept kissing each other. You lay in bed together and spent the day together.

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lenreli · 1 year ago

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Day 31 - Reverse!verse [AU]

[AO3] Life!Hob my beloved. Also see wild blue yonder for more Life!Hob goodness!

Dream heaves, axe heavy in his hands as he descends Fawney Rig where Life ― Hob, another name he prefers to be called ― is being held. Life being held has caused insane damage: plants and people growing backwards, decay halted, people dying from something as simple as a papercut, the planet itself switching seasons suddenly, the sun shining bright enough to start making oceans recede.

It’s only been a year, but it feels too long already, especially since he’s been searching for Life, finally ending up here. Even as a run-of-the-mill immortal human that Life kept challenging him for, Dream a bored noble in the 1300s, life itself was hard to think about in full until brown eyes smiled at him and dared for them to meet in 100 years.

Dream’s heart is in his throat as he stares the basement, the guard’s having already met his axe, splattering his black clothes with blood as he stares at the cheery yellow walls, almost a mockery of the entity in a glass sphere, Life naked and curled up in it. “Life!” He wheezes, hands touching the sphere as Life ― blinks, recognition slow before a bright smile appears.

There’s a sound from above, shouting and running as Hob points to the floor ― a golden circle around the sphere, and Dream steps back to wack into the sigils with the axe, ears popping as bullets fly past him, as he pulls the axe back to go into the glass sphere, can feel a bullet in his back, in his leg―

―And golden light engulfs him.

―

Dream wakes with a gasp, looking around to see the green of Fawney Rig, skin tingling and heart beating quickly as he gets his bearing, body feeling ― new, completely reset, the way it is after he’s died. “Dream?” A voice says, and Dream blinks, Life next to him, dressed in a simple dark blue suit, brown-and-gold eyes worried as a hand cups his jaw. Dream inhales sharply, the spark of Life touching him bright and zinging through him.

“You’re okay?” He asks, voice rough and Hob smiles, the sparkling gold in his eyes dimming.

“Not at all ― but I’ll start getting better again, thanks to you,” Life says, eyes flickering over beside them. “I went a bit overboard,” Hob muses, and Dream looks over to find ― nothing, an abyss of nothing, only black and dark and nothing where Fawney Rig used to be, all the way down into the Earth, the blackness of it consuming and piercing― “sorry,” Hob pulls his face back to him, aching head receding, “that couldn’t of been a fun death to come back from,” he says with a grimace.

“As long as you are out of there, it didn’t matter,” he says, body still feeling new and tingling as he takes a breath, the smell of nature now right and fresh and Hob beams at him, eyes going a full amber and gold and Dream’s so ― relieved, that his friend can still smile so after this, that he’s not trapped anymore ― that he can even see Hob’s smile again, after that year of anxiety and catastrophizing. Dream, almost out of his control, leans forward to kiss Hob deeply, hands going up to the other’s beard.

Hob gasps, kissing him back, body warm and solid as Dream falls onto him, and Dream shivers as rough hands go under his shirt, “Life-affirming sex, right?” Hob asks with a grin, and Dream freezes, mind catching up to his body, “this isn’t a no, just asking,” Hob kisses his jaw and Dream relaxes.

“Yes,” he breathes, so desperately relieved as Hob smiles, surging up to meet him as they kiss, as clothes get unravelled, and Dream can feel vines and flower stems grabbing onto his legs and arms as warm hands touch his dick, vines winding around his thighs. “Hob,” he pleads as they rut against each other.

#dc #the sandman #dreamling #dreamling fanfic #smuly 2023 #dreamling smuly #dream x hob #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #writing #not sfw #another month done yay~

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phoenixyfriend · 2 years ago

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Star Wars AU Masterlist: Time-Travel

Navigation Post

Fun fact, tumblr allows 250 links on the old editor and 100 in the new. So. Network of masterlists.

Currently this list is separated into:

Time Travel AUs in the Wider AUs masterlist

Jangosoka

Ahsoka-focused

Disaster Trio (one or more, excluding Ahsoka solos or Vader solos)

Original Trilogy cast

Other

Time Travel AUs in the Wider AUs or Big League posts:

* Fake Spontaneous Training Bond

Uncle Ben and Little Luke

* Sandstorm Verse

* Obi-Wan Declares Himself Dad-Shaped

* Anakin and the Jedi Babies

* Rex and Anakin Raise a Family

Commander Buir: an excuse to let Cody be dad-shaped

* Dimension Hopping to an Omegaverse

Fake Sith TCW Trio (7.5k words)

Ghost Vader Shows Up To Help

Time-Travel Bosoka AU

The King the Soldier and the Spy

Parole Officer Fulcrum Steals Three Million Babies

Jangosoka

Fett and Fulcrum

Crack Ship Ahoy: Jango/Ahsoka

* Sugar, Spice, and a Heart to Entice (4.7k words)

Rex Cockblocks Jangosoka (it’s more depressing than it sounds)

Accidental Mand’alor Ahsoka

Jangosoka scarring Obi-Wan for life

Go away, Skyguy!

Something that’s... approaching analysis

The nature of time-travelers and Jango

Jango gets catapulted to “The Book of Boba Fett” and refuses to believe that Boba is Boba, so Ahsoka gets involved

Ahsoka

Ezra and Fulcrum’s Wacky Adventure

Rex and Ahsoka are two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist

Breaking into Kamino

The Girl Who Died at Mortis

Ahsoka/Depa ft. jealous Bo-Katan and jealous Jango

Naming Conventions for time-traveler Ahsoka

Ahsoka’s Terracotta Army, which is honestly mostly @epicmusic42 and @graylinesspam

- A wee addendum

- New Mando Archaeologist

“On her way to fuck your dad” Ahsoka/Jaster, Jango staring in horror from the background

Ahsoka claims her mom is Daughter from Mortis

Disaster Trio (non Ahsoka-solos)

A Knight, a Padawan, a Captain... and Boba, tagged as “Boba and the Torrents”

Obi-Wan adopts Jango by accident

- Obi-Wan even lectures Jaster

The Future Assistant Dooku Didn’t Ask For

Are you done talking yet? (now with ficlet by @nevertheless-moving)

Obi-Wan and Anakin as twins

The Nature of Time-Travel Romance (absolutely sucks for you)

My Obi! AU

- Addendum

Obitine + Baby Anakin

Inconvenient Crushes

- Arguments with Adult Obi

Jaster/Obi

Faustian AU: Anakin and Ahsoka go from TCW Mortis Ep. to TPM-era Kamino, and somehow become the AI that controls Tipoca city

Fulcrum and Old Ben

TCW Anakin ends up Dooku’s care between Qui-Gon and Komari since the Council can’t just give him Knighthood when there’s not a war

Physically time-traveled Anakin ‘kidnaps’ mentally time-traveled toddler Obi-Wan

Other Prequels/TCW Travelers

Time-Traveled Clones Give Anakin a Mental Breakdown

Time Travel to Release the Zillo Beast

Bo-Katan is here to ruin fix change everything

Conservation of souls retroactive clone eggs, Thumbelina/Momotaro/Kaguya style

Padme dies and wakes up fourteen again, goes for Sidious’s throat

12yo Shmi Skywalker, with memories of the next 35 years, hijacks a ship and finds Obi-Wan’s parents (one of whom is pregnant)

Cryo Kix wakes up, spends two weeks in the ST, and then falls backwards into TCW

Time-traveler Dooku (trying not to be evil, this time), mostly by @epicmusic42)

Dooku, who is older than Palpatine, travels back far enough that he can grab Young Palpatine for the Temple before Plagueis gets him

Dooku gets punted back to Galidraan. So does Jango.

Totally the Real Jango: some clones lie to bb!Jango’s face and claim to be him, from the future

Vader

Fox and Vader’s Excellent Incredibly Stupid and Homicidal Adventure

Future Emotions AU

Anon suggests Vader shows up in that short period between Amidala’s election as Queen and Palpatine’s election as Chancellor

Why we love Vader time travel fics

Vader and baby Anakin body swap through time

Vader time travels to be baby Anakin again, goes full vegetarian

Another Vader time travel (along with links to a misskirby au that is no longer available on her now-defunct blog)

DarthFett, possibly body swap

The one where Darth Vader travels back in time as a Kitten

Vader Swears Loyalty to a Clone Toddler

- With fic on AO3 written by @delightedlymisinformed

Vader lands on Rattatak

Baby Vader (Raised a Sith, mental time-travel) finds padawan Obi-Wan for Help (also Maul is there)

- Maul is also an uncle for the Twins

Original Trilogy Cast

Time Travel ft. Leia and Vader

Han & Boba bumped to pre-TCW

- Addendum

- There’s more now

- A bunch by @uh-oh-its-bird

Luke Collects Last Names

Luke brings a porg

Ghost Aunt Leia

Leia Antilles, Senator of Serenno

- Addendum

Leia/Jango (Concord Dawn & Alderaan destruction comparison)

Time-traveled Boba, also this

Han shows up in pre-TPM, accidentally starts Being Dad at his pint-sized father-in-law

Fulcrum is how the twins know their pragmatism was justified even by pre-war standards

Somewhat Estranged ST-era HanLeia and pre-AotC Padme end up on Melida/Daan

De-aged Mandalorian cast (Din, Boba, Fennec, Luke) tossed into the months leading up to AotC

Leia when meeting AotC Anakin

Other

Rey Gives No F*cks About the Grandfather Paradox

- Palpatine Tries to Arrange a Marriage

- Addendum

Maul: Motherfucker Unlimited

Artoo and Threepio cause problems

Rey ends up in the PT, then Qui-Gon’s new apprentice

Baze/Chirrut messing around with Jinn&Kenobi

Tarre Viszla is reincarnated as Bo-Katan's baby

Cal Kestis drops back to TCW, accidentally derails things because he didn’t know he was Obi-Wan’s bio kid

An ask I got about Obisoka and Anisoka

#star wars #time travel #phoenix posts #masterposts

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cactusracoon · 1 year ago

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TIM DRAKE AU HEADCANONS!!

______________________

Omega Verse

_________

Bruce is an Alpha

Dick is a Beta

Jason is an Alpha

Tim is an Omega

Damian is an Alpha

Cass is a Beta

Duke is a Beta

Steph is an Alpha

Babs is an Alpha

Alfred is a Beta

_____

Tim is the only omega because he's the Wayne Pack's Omega. Tim's nest is well The Nest, though he claims that it's not. He also has a nest in his room at the Manor where he normally spends his heats.

Tim can't take heat suppressants because of his antibiotics for his lack of spleen. He tends to hide his heats because that's what he had to do at Drake Manor.

Janet and Jack were going to marry him off when he got his first heat but Jason nabbed up after the scent of neglect, sadness, and fear filled the room one back while they were doing a school project.

Tim has stabbed a guy for trying to grab him while he was stalking Batman.

When Dick saw he promptly beat the shit out of the guy and didn't let Tim go till he dropped him off at Drake Manor.

The other Wayne Pack members tried to intimidate Tim's boyfriend Bernard but it didn't work all that well. They couldn't do that to the poor kid after they smelled pain come from him. He now comes over for family brunch.

_____________________

High School/Teacher Au

_________

Bruce is the Principle

Dick is a senor

Jason is a Junior

Tim is a freshman

Steph is a sophmore

Duke is a freshman

Babs is a senor

Cass is a Junior

Damian hasn't been born yet

______________

Tim meets Jason and Dick though theater club. Tim joined to do back stage work while Dick and Jason joined to be in the plays.

Jason actually didn't like Tim at the beginning. He was to quiet, to small to be a freshman, and far to good at back stage work for a 14 year old.

Dick on the other hand latched onto the freshman. He basically adopted him as his school child which confused Tim immensely.

Tim has a habit of working himself sick. Once Jason warmed up to him he started aggressively taking care of him. Oh you didn't eat lunch yet? Here's a bag of chips thrown at your head. Haven't drank water? Ok I'll just shove it down your throat. You haven't slept? OK you are going to nap in the back seat of my car while I go run some errands.

Tim likes to help with set painting and costume design.

The rest of Dicks and Jason's friend groups noticed how attached they got to the small black haired freshman and promptly also got attached.

Tim is just confused through it all.

________________

GIVE ME MORE AUS TO HEADCANON PLZ!!!

#dc #timbern #tim drake #batman #bruce wayne #red robin #damian wayne #tim drake & dick grayson #tim drake & Jason todd #tim drake headcanon #au headcanons #high school au #omegaverse au #we love clueless Timmy #god just give him a hug omg

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kitakami-zorua-kin · 6 months ago

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//ooc post

helloooo im not dead as i think i mentioned in the tags of my last post i just. dont have a ton of inspiration right now because unfortunately for my pokemon blogs starrail has grabbed me by the throat (i am fighting The Demons. the demons say start a honkai star rail rp blog. i Should Not but i have Many OCs and am Very Tempted). however that said i would still like to do things here. so. i am thinking. an Event. so,,, what would y'all prefer to see, i guess...? (i am being Indecisive and don't want to make decisions)

uhhh. okay so HSR Russet is one of the honkai star rail versions of russet i've made because i fling this poor guy into whatever media i'm obsessed with. little darker than the normal blog tone on account of uh... honkai star rail being Like That. everything would be tagged though. would essentially be a "faller" with his memories intact spending some time in the pokemon verse trying very hard to get back to his universe. lots of lore, lots of silly. little alien guy is Very Lost.

time shenanigans are... pretty self explanatory. you either see russet post-healing or pre-horrors (well. partially. the horrors of Growing Up In Kitakami are Still There, unfortunately). i can simply take advantage of the fact that hiroki the beloved does have a very mischievous Celebi. could also be fun and interesting and a cool way to explore the character.

uhhh random shenanigans!! either you guys pick an event for me or if i don't get suggestions i go to my beloved groupchat in which one (1) person is involved in pkmn irl and get them to give me an event scenario and go with whatever nonsense they craft up.

#//ooc post #//mod posting #//event planning #//anyways hello friends who read tags. i mentioned health issues in my last post #//i have an appointment to find out if i do or do not have POTS lmao. but uh. yeah that's what's been happening #//im just verrrry tired a lot still despite some new medicines that were supposed to fix that #//it's a little better but not a lot?? so. in diagnosis limbo currently

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cephalog0d · 1 year ago

Note

"He could smell something warm and full of aromatic spices, which was a good sign nothing had gone disastrously wrong. The door was mostly closed and Damian had music playing, so Bruce couldn’t make out any individual words, but he could faintly hear Damian speaking in Arabic. He caught an exasperated exclamation of “Mother”, followed by slightly tinny laughter from Talia over the phone, but it was much more performative than genuinely distressed, so he decided to leave them to it."

I was finally reading Comfort Food and this paragraph grabbed me by the throat!!! Like adult Damian calling him mom just to cook for his baby brother and they're having a fun/pleasant time?? I NEED the DVD commentary

Biggest Brother Damian does all sorts of little nice and helpful things for his siblings but if you make a big deal about it and call it out he gets real awkward. XD He's like a brownie, he can only do nice things if no one's calling attention to it. (That's mostly a joke, but a little bit true that he's a lot better at actions than words. He is, in some ways, his father's son and not so great at the whole "using your words to express affection" thing, so he just does stuff for them instead. Like making soup! Because feeding people is a great way to show you care without actually having to talk about it much! See also: Damian throwing a granola bar directly at Tim's face when he's been on the computer too long without a break, because they get along better now but they don't get along that well.)

I was thinking about the fact that Dick's life has been totally upended, and how beyond losing his parents he's also lost a whole slew of other things that were familiar and comforting, and then thinking about parallels there with Damian having to adjust to living in Gotham/with Bruce (compared to Tim and Jason who were at least from Gotham already; Cass has her own complicated relationship with her childhood vs her time with Bruce that's kind of a different thing than just a change in culture). And that led to thinking about food, specifically, in that context and here we are!

And the great thing about doing an AU is that you get to choose if/how you want to incorporate canon and in my case I am BLATANTLY IGNORING all of the "Talia is a horrible, abusive parent" canon and letting her actually be a good mom, dammit. (At least within the bounds of her being a somewhat morally ambiguous comic book character. Good parenting is kind of a sliding scale in the DC verse, and particularly in the Bat verse.) She's not a perfect parent, but neither is Bruce (and they share some of the same parenting flaws! Like extremely high expectations for themselves and everyone around them, or weird ideas about what knowledge and training is and isn't appropriate for a child to take part in, or having very strong opinions on What's Best For Damian that don't necessarily align with each other OR with Damian himself and have definitely never been a three-way point of contention at any point during his childhood).

There's been some rough patches over the years, but by this point Damian is on mostly good terms with both of his parents, and while he mostly lived in Gotham growing up (after the point where he actually met Bruce, obviously) he did also split his time visiting Talia in various parts of the world for various lengths of time, depending on what exactly she was up to. (Yes, as he has acquired more and more younger siblings he has started bringing gifts back for them. He says it's because they won't shut up and leave him alone if he doesn't, but you know. Literally no one believes that.)

His phone call to Talia here definitely consisted of equal parts helpful instruction in what to do and deeply unhelpful commentary on the state of Bruce's pantry and what he does and doesn't keep stocked. Or honestly probably a lot more of her dragging Bruce and less actual help. Damian definitely just asked her to text him a recipe and instead she was like "Nope, phone call" and he only complained like twice about how a text would've been easier when she spent like five minutes explaining what not to use instead of actually offering a suitable substitution.

(This story also sent me down a rabbit hole trying to research what type of food different parts of the world consider "sick people food", a la chicken noodle soup in the US, and mostly consisted of me being frustrated that the first page of results was almost entirely the same list of a dozen things repackaged by different sites, and then it devolved into articles with titles about "what country's food will make you sick?" Super helpful, internet, thanks. I did find a big reddit thread that was somewhat helpful, once I skimmed past all the answers that weren't really an answer or didn't bother to say where they were talking about. And it's funny because it was a very minor detail that got glossed over anyway due to the POV involved. Whoops. But I have several recipes I want to make now?)

#fic commentary #ceph writes things #reverse robins #damian wayne

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