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shadowdaddies · 7 months

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hi! i firstly wanted to tell you how much i love your writing and how perfectly you write every character. you’re so talented😊

i was wondering if you could write an eris x reader where it’s at the high lord meeting or some other big event and reader is part of the night court, maybe related to one of them, but mated to Eris and nobody knows. maybe something happens like Beron insults her or one of the Inner Circle insults him and they accidentally reveal the bond by getting protective? it can have like soft, comforting smut as well if you’d like but either way, i trust you completely :)

thank you so much! you are so kind, this ask made my day. and I love this prompt, I had a lot of fun writing this💜

Heated Admissions

Eris x Reader

warnings: none

Shoulders rolled back, you schooled your features into your practiced Night Court facade. A deadly glimmer shone in your eye, confident smirk on your lips as you followed you High Lord and Lady into the chambers where the other High Lords were gathered.

Heart pounded, nostrils flaring slightly the moment you entered the room, your mate’s presence intoxicating despite your best efforts to ignore him. Like a moth to the flame, you allowed your gaze to flick to Eris’s as you took your place across him at the long table, each of you standing behind your High Lords.

Amber eyes were already focused on you, Eris’s eyes raking over you as though he were sizing up an unworthy opponent. But behind his piercing glare, Eris sending a wave of admiration and encouragement down the bond.

You flashed him a cocky smirk, appearing taunting to everyone else around you, all the while sending him your own love as you leaned against the wall, arms crossed as you looked down your nose at Beron.

Azriel grew tense at your side, your hand finding your friend’s arm to give a comforting squeeze, internal satisfaction seeping through you at the confirmation that the tonic had worked. Unwilling to take any chances of your hidden mateship being discovered, you and Eris had each taken a tonic to dilute the scent of the mating bond - but you had never tested it until now.

While Azriel relaxed next to you, Beron’s murky brown eyes stayed trained on you, his gaze assessing in a different way as Rhys introduced you to the room.

“This is my Military Advisor. She will be explaining our strategy against Hybern moving forward,” Rhys drawled, a lazy smirk settling over his features, violet eyes alight with challenge as Beron and Tamlin visibly tensed.

You stepped forward, hands clasped in front of you, nodding a polite greeting to the High Lords as you prepared to lay out your proposal for a joined strategic effort.

You’d hardly opened your mouth when Beron guffawed, allowing himself a loud, mocking laugh through his sneer. He did not address you, not Feyre, instead looking to Rhysand.

“You think that I care what proposal some young, lowborn female has to offer? Surely, Rhysand, things cannot be going so poorly for you in the Night Court that you’ve resorted to such sad excuses for leadership and guidance.”

Rhys’s power rolled off of him in dark waves, cutting off Beron before he could continue further. But it was too late. Eris’s eyes were glowing with barely contained fury, flames sparking at his fingertips as his gaze flicked between his father and you.

Azriel tracked Eris’s reaction as well, the Illyrian’s siphons glowing a bright cobalt as he misjudged your mate’s protective instincts as a threat. Wings twitched, your only hint before Azriel lunged across the table towards Eris.

Time seemed to slow as your adrenaline kicked in, hand flying for the collar of Azriel’s leathers as you pulled him back. Hazel eyes found yours, the spymaster uncharacteristically startled by the feral anger that left your entire body shaking. “Do not touch my mate,” you growled before you could register the words.

Gasps sounded throughout the room, Azriel’s jaw slack while he relaxed, nodding at you in understanding. You flashed him an apologetic smile before turning to face the rest of the room, bracing yourself to stand against Beron’s wrath.

Instead, a frightful smile spread fully across the High Lord of Autumn’s face, a wicked gleam in his eye as his eyes roamed over your body in a far different light than earlier. “Well, my son, it seems that you have more interests in the Night Court than I’d gathered.”

The tension grew unbearably thick, Autumn and Night Courts poised to jump at each others’ throats in the blink of an eye.

But it was Helion who cleaved the silence like a spell, the rich timbre of his voice blanketing the room in a sense of calm. “How wonderful that two Courts so often at odds with each other would find the greatest common ground, love.” The wink he sent your way before continuing sending a furious blush over your cheeks, “but I would love to continue the conversation which so many have journeyed here for, if our lovely Military Advisor would continue.”

No one dared to question the High Lord of Day, settling in as you spoke. Leaving the meeting, you felt surprisingly optimistic from the High Lords’ reactions to your plan, Feyre and Rhys encouraging you that you would debrief further in the morning. You didn’t miss the pointed look that Rhys gave you - one that would strike fear into most anyone - indicating the debrief would include divulging of information from you about the mating bond.

Bidding them good night, you turned on your heel towards the room in which you were staying, shoulders slumped as exhaustion and anxiety weighed you down. You shouldered the door open, thinking of your mate as you stumbled through. You had wanted to see him more than anything, but after the Inner Circle’s reaction tonight, you didn’t dare seek Eris out.

Spinning around, you locked the door behind you, letting your head rest against the wood as you sighed, mind reeling with the potential ramifications of that meeting.

“Something on your mind?” a familiar voice purred from behind you, your spirits instantly lifting as you turned to see Eris’s red hair glowing in the dim faelight. A feline grin graced his lips as the Autumn Lord sprung gracefully from the bed, the smell of cinnamon invading your senses as he strode closer.

“Are you alright?” you whispered, hand finding his sharp jawline as you searched whiskey eyes for any sign of worry. Eris simply chuckled, mirthful gaze set on you as he tilted his head into your palm.

Tongue flicked out against the skin there, to be swallowed by a warm, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine. “I am just fine, my love. I am assessing my father’s stance on us, and will adjust my plans accordingly. For now, all I want is to be with you.”

His eyes were soft at the admission, unguarded emotion that he only allowed to you see giving you the peace you needed. “I’m all yours,” you promised, pulling your mate in for a searing kiss before you led him towards the bed.

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jaeedraszaerysz · 1 year

Text

JON SNOW ☆ DATING HCS

SFW 💕💕

It would probably take him a while to trust you if you hadn't known him very long.

If you grew up with or close to the Starks he tried to befriend you before Robb did

He would always be scared that he would steal your heart away

You would spend hours mocking the men and women of the courts

When Robert Baratheon came to visit you both sat outside taking the piss out of all the Lords and ladies and any twat who dared speak low of either of you.

Tyrion Lannister defos assumed u were a couple and when you told him otherwise, he just shook his head.

Catelyn would probably despise you for being so close to him.

Ned would love you though, thanking the gods silently that the boy had someone by his side.

He would probably have kissed you before he left for the nights watch and spent his nights wondering whether leaving you was worth it all.

When you eventually found your way back to him it was rather chaotic.

You were probably interrogated by tormund on arrival

Atleast until Jon saw you, never forgetting your face.

You probably punched him square in the face and then proceeded to have a huge, westeros equivalent of Oscar worthy, makeput session infront of everyone.

Ghost, when not growling at random twats, would act like a second protector when Jon wasn't by your side.

Arya either loves you or hates you

Sansa is, just like her father was, happy Jon has someone.

Bran doesn't care. He's too busy wheeling around doing seven eyes Sparrow shit or whatever he called it.

You and Davos defos spend ages tryna talk some sense into him.

He always seems to be holding you in some way

Whether it be your arm, hand, waist. He would probably play with your hands or you hair often.

Is always bloody staring

Like never stops

His eyes are for you and only you

Takes. You. Everywhere.

Like no debates. He goes, you follow. Or vice versa.

He took you with him to meet with ramsay and if he made any comment whatsoever it was straight up a routine by now.

Death stare, holds onto you twelve times tighter, kills the offender within 24 hours.

Loves it when you fall asleep on him because he's happy you feel safe with him.

Head kisses.

Need I say more?

Everywhere anytime.

Head. Fucking. Kisses.

Walking past. Head kiss.

Sat next to him at dinner. Head kiss.

In an extremely serious situation requiring your full attention. Head kiss.

Dying. Head kiss.

It's like his fucking bread and butter.

When you first met daenerys it was bad vibes.

Like very bad.

No clue why she just doesn't sit right with you.

Either grows to love you or ends up hating you with a passion.

No in-between.

He dreams of having a normal life.

He would want three kids, two boys and girl so they could protect their sister.

Maybe another direwolf or four. One for each and one for you.

Can't sleep when you aren't next to him.

Teaches you to sword fight extremely early on in your relationship.

If you were ill or pregnant he would never leave your side.

Never ever ever never.

He's convinced that you could have a hundred children and you would still be the person he loves most in the world.

Would do anything for you.

Minors DNI below this line.

NSFW ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (implied female reader)

Worships you like no one else

Touching you always.

Passes it off for his hand on your back but in reality he's secretly caressing your ass, or will have his arms under your cloak, passing it off as a hug, and will gently squeeze your boobs.

Neck kisses.

His favourite thing in the world.

Loves to leave marks on you wherever he can.

Has definitely kissed every inch of your body

Gives no fucks about scars or hair or anything of the sort.

Boobs.

Lives laughs loves your boobs.

Will lay with his face buried in them at any time.

Minor inconvenience? Someone was being a twat? He's tired?

Boob pillow.

Will eat you out for hours.

Insatiable.

You have any problems at all? Sit on his face.

If he's had a bad day he will legit just stuff his face between your thighs.

His fave place.

Says that if you suffocated him it would be an amazing way to go.

Probably prefers giving but he will never say no to receiving.

His dick is probs like 6-7 inches.

Takes tormunds advice very seriously.

Loves to see how many fingers you can take before he stuffs you.

Will go for as many rounds as you need.

Always a gentleman, making sure your comfortable and that your satisfied.

Cockwarming he loves.

Cuddles afterwards.

He will slide out of you and pull you onto on him, pulling the blankets up and wrapping his body around yours.

Calls you love but with his gorgeous deep voice.

Has a sexy asf morning voice.

He's so whipped for you he can't function somedays.

#jon snow x reader #jon snow headcanons #jon snow hcs #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #GoT #smut #fluff #hcs #headcannons #jonsnow #aegontargaryen #jonstark

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dee-writes-smut · 4 months

Text

DICENTRAS (Chapter Five)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY Lucien shows up to the Autumn Court and secrets are soon revealed.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, arguing, leaving, grief (over someone who is still alive), minor injuries, and Eris being angry.

AUTHORS NOTE annnnnd we are back into the swing of things! I would like to thank you all again for your patience these last few weeks, I am so incredibly grateful to all of you. Anyways, enough of the sappy, enjoy getting your hearts ripped out! :) -Dee

SERIES MASTERLIST

As the weeks passed after that fateful kiss, the atmosphere in the forest house transformed entirely. You had moved into Eris's room, and the space quickly became a haven of warmth and love. Each morning, you would wake in his arms, feeling the solid comfort of his embrace, the soft light filtering through the curtains casting a gentle glow over the room. The dawn would break with whispered conversations and soft laughter, the sound of your shared happiness filling the air like a sweet melody.

Eris had taken to placing his hand on your growing belly every morning, feeling the baby's movements with a look of awe and wonder in his eyes. The bond between the two of you deepened with each passing day, and the baby seemed to sense the harmony, responding with gentle kicks and rolls whenever Eris was near. The connection between the three of you was palpable, a testament to the love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

You found yourself in a nesting frenzy, driven by an instinctive need to prepare for the baby's arrival. Eris's room, once a bachelor’s retreat with minimalistic decor, transformed under your careful touch. You spent hours arranging and rearranging furniture, making space for a crib beside the bed. The room was soon filled with soft blankets, tiny clothes, and stuffed animals, all ready to welcome the new addition to your family.

Eris supported your efforts wholeheartedly, often surprising you with thoughtful gestures. He would return from his duties with little gifts—a handcrafted mobile, a beautifully woven blanket, a carved wooden toy—each item chosen with care and love. Your evenings were spent together, organizing the baby's things and talking about the future, your shared dreams of the family you were about to become.

Despite the physical challenges of being 38 weeks pregnant, you found joy in the small moments. You would waddle around the room, humming lullabies as you folded and refolded baby clothes, your heart swelling with love every time the baby kicked in response to your voice. Eris would often catch you in these moments, his eyes softening with adoration as he watched you, a smile playing on his lips.

One particularly memorable evening, you decided to decorate the nursery corner you had set up. Eris had brought home a set of delicate, hand-painted stars to hang above the crib, and you both spent hours arranging them just right, laughing and teasing each other as you worked. By the time you finished, the room had a magical feel, the stars twinkling in the soft light, creating a peaceful haven for your baby.

Life was good, better than you had ever imagined it could be. The love between you and Eris grew stronger with each passing day, a bond forged in trust and mutual respect. The baby thrived within you, their movements a constant reminder of the new life you were about to welcome. The forest house, once a place of secrecy and fear, had become a home filled with love and hope.

But even in the midst of this happiness, a shadow lingered, a secret that weighed heavily on your heart.

Each morning began with the soft glow of dawn filtering through the windows of Eris's room, the warmth of his embrace a welcome start to the day. You would rise with the sun, your movements slow and deliberate as you navigated the space, your growing belly a constant reminder of the new life growing within you.

Breakfast was a leisurely affair, spent in the cozy kitchen of the forest house. The cook, a kindly woman with a penchant for indulging your cravings, would greet you with a warm smile as you entered, her apron stained with flour from her morning preparations. You would exchange pleasantries as you made your way to the table, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread filling the air.

On this particular morning, however, you found yourself with an insatiable craving for something sweet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you made your way to the kitchens, your footsteps light as you tiptoed down the hallways. The cook greeted you with a knowing smile as you entered, her eyes twinkling with amusement at your predictable craving.

"Good morning, dear," she said, her voice filled with warmth as she bustled about the kitchen, preparing the day's meals. "What can I do for you today?"

You grinned sheepishly, the anticipation of indulging in your favorite treat making your mouth water. "I was hoping you might have some of those honey cakes you made last week," you said, your voice hopeful as you eyed the display of pastries on the counter.

The cook chuckled softly, her laughter like music to your ears. "Ah, I see someone has a sweet tooth this morning," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm afraid we're all out of honey cakes, but I could whip up a batch of cinnamon rolls if you'd like?"

Your face lit up with delight at the suggestion, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. "That sounds perfect, thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude as you watched the cook set to work.

As you waited for your treat to bake, you found yourself lost in thought, the warmth of the kitchen and the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon filling you with a sense of contentment. But just as you were about to indulge in your freshly baked cinnamon roll, a voice broke through the tranquility of the moment, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" came a familiar voice from behind you, the sound sending a jolt of panic coursing through your veins. Turning slowly, you came face to face with Lucien, his amber eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

You froze in place, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. Lucien's presence was unexpected, his sudden appearance sending your carefully constructed facade crumbling to the ground. As he stepped closer, a smirk playing on his lips, you felt a surge of fear wash over you, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you under its weight.

Despite the initial shock of seeing Lucien standing before you, you forced a polite smile onto your lips, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. His presence was unexpected, but you knew that you had to maintain your composure, at least until you could find a way to extricate yourself from the situation.

"Lucien," you greeted him, your voice carefully neutral as you returned his friendly smile. "What a surprise to see you here."

He returned your greeting with a warm smile of his own, his amber eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Likewise," he said, his tone light and friendly. "I must say, I didn't expect to find you sneaking into the kitchens for a midnight snack."

You chuckled nervously at his observation, the sound ringing hollow in your ears. "Oh, you know me," you replied, forcing a casual shrug. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth, and I couldn't resist the temptation of the cook's cinnamon rolls."

Lucien laughed softly at your explanation, the sound sending a pang of guilt through your chest. "I can't say I blame you," he said, his expression fond as he looked around the kitchen. "The cook here is quite talented."

As he chatted amiably with you, you found yourself falling into the easy rhythm of conversation, your nerves gradually easing as you exchanged pleasantries. He asked you about your journey to the Autumn Court, his curiosity genuine as he listened intently to your explanations.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your lies heavy on your conscience as you spun a tale of seeking adventure and new experiences, carefully omitting any mention of the true reason for your presence in the palace. You told him about your desire to explore the world beyond the borders of the Spring Court, your words carefully crafted to deflect suspicion and keep your secret hidden.

Throughout the conversation, Lucien treated you with the easy familiarity of an old friend, his warmth and charm putting you at ease despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. He seemed genuinely interested in your story, his questions probing but never invasive as he sought to understand the woman you had become since leaving the Spring Court.

But as you glanced down at the oversized shirt you had borrowed from Eris, the bulge of your growing belly hidden from view, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at your conscience. You knew that you were lying to Lucien, betraying his trust with every false word that passed your lips. But in that moment, with his friendly smile and easy laughter, it was all too easy to push aside your doubts and bury yourself in the comforting embrace of deception.

"So, what brings you back to the Autumn Court, Lucien? Is everything going well with Elain?"

Lucien's expression faltered slightly at the mention of his mate, his gaze flickering with a hint of sadness before he composed himself with a small sigh. "I wish I could say that things were going smoothly," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "But truth be told, Elain and I are facing some… challenges."

He went on to explain the difficulties he was encountering in his relationship with Elain, describing her struggles to adjust to life in the Night Court and the walls she had erected to keep him at arm's length. His words were tinged with frustration and sadness, his love for Elain evident in every syllable as he spoke of his desire to break through her defenses and build a life together.

"But it's not just her walls that I'm contending with," he continued, his voice heavy with concern. "There's another complication, another male who has caught her eye." He spoke of the spymaster of the Night Court, a man whose charm and wit had seemingly captivated Elain, drawing her attention away from Lucien and their fledgling relationship.

As he spoke, you could sense the pain and uncertainty that weighed heavily on Lucien's heart, his struggles with Elain's affections a constant source of anguish. Despite his efforts to win her over, it seemed that she was slipping further away with each passing day, her attention diverted by the allure of another man.

You listened sympathetically to his words, your heart aching for the pain he was experiencing. You could see the depth of his love for Elain, the longing in his eyes as he spoke of her, and it struck a chord deep within you. In that moment, you felt a kinship with Lucien, a shared understanding of the complexities of love and the challenges it presented.

"I'm sorry to hear that things are so difficult with Elain," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine concern. "But know that you're not alone, Lucien. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

“I appreciate that,” Lucien smiled warmly, reaching over to steal a cinnamon roll from your plate before steering the conversation toward lighter subjects.

You found yourself drawn into the easy camaraderie between you and Lucien, the warmth of his presence a welcome distraction from the turmoil of your own thoughts.

But just as you began to relax into the conversation, a shadow fell over the kitchen doorway, and you turned to see Eris standing there, his expression dark and stormy. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, the tension in the air palpable as he took in the scene before him.

Lucien, ever the picture of charm and grace, greeted his brother with a casual smile, his tone light and teasing as he joked about your supposed dalliance on Calanmai. You felt the color drain from your face at his words, the implication of his jest hanging heavy in the air.

Eris's eyes narrowed at his brother's words, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger. He shot you a long, hard look, his gaze piercing through you like a knife, before turning his attention back to Lucien.

"What are you doing here, Lucien?" Eris asked, his voice cold and clipped as he crossed his arms over his chest. There was a steely edge to his tone, a warning that brooked no argument.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at his brother's question, his expression one of mild confusion. "Just catching up with an old friend," he replied casually, his gaze flickering briefly to you before returning to Eris. "And what about you? What brings you to the kitchens?"

Eris's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he turned his attention back to Lucien. "I was looking for her," he said curtly, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "We have matters to discuss."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. You glanced at Lucien, a silent plea for understanding in your eyes, before rising to follow after Eris, your heart pounding in your chest.

But as you moved to leave, Lucien's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Wait," he said softly, his tone filled with genuine concern. "Is everything alright?"

You turned to face him, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of guilt and apprehension. And it was then, in that moment of quiet vulnerability, that Lucien's eyes fell upon the telltale swell of your belly, hidden beneath Eris's oversized shirt.

His expression softened, a look of dawning realization crossing his features as he took in the sight before him. "You're pregnant," he breathed, his voice filled with wonder and joy. "Congratulations."

You opened your mouth to speak, to correct his assumption and reveal the truth of your situation, but the words caught in your throat. In that moment, with the weight of his gaze upon you and the weight of your secret pressing down on your shoulders, you found yourself unable to speak. And so, with a heavy heart, you simply nodded, a silent confirmation of the lie that now hung between you.

As Eris stormed out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing angrily down the corridor, you felt a surge of panic rising within you. Ignoring the discomfort of your heavily pregnant form, you hurried after him as quickly as you could, leaving Lucien to his own divices the oversized shirt you wore billowing around you as you waddled awkwardly down the hallway.

"Eris, wait!" you called out, your voice strained with desperation as you struggled to keep pace with him. "Please, let me explain!"

But he didn't slow down, his strides long and purposeful as he continued to march ahead, his shoulders tense with pent-up frustration. You quickened your pace, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed yourself to catch up to him.

"Eris, please," you pleaded, reaching out to grasp his arm in a futile attempt to stop him. "You have to listen to me."

He jerked away from your touch, his expression hardened with anger as he rounded on you, his eyes blazing with fury. "I don't want to hear it," he snapped, his voice sharp and cutting. "I've heard enough lies for one day."

Tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words, the sting of his rejection piercing through you like a knife. But you refused to give up, refused to let him walk away without hearing the truth.

"I'm not lying to you, Eris," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Please, just give me a chance to explain."

For a moment, he wavered, his gaze flickering with uncertainty as he looked into your tear-filled eyes. But then, with a frustrated sigh, he turned away from you once more, his resolve hardening with each passing second.

"I can't do this right now," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I need time to think."

But you couldn't let him leave, not like this. "Please, Eris," you implored, your voice breaking with the weight of your desperation. "I'm so sorry for hiding the truth about Lucien from you, but I was scared. I was scared of losing you, scared of what it would mean for us."

His expression twisted with anger and betrayal as he whirled around to face you. "Scared?" he spat, his voice rising with each word. "Scared of what? That I wouldn't accept you? That I wouldn't love you if I knew the truth?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you tried to make him understand. "No, it's not that," you sobbed, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't want to burden you with my past. I didn't want to ruin what we have."

"What we have?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what exactly do we have if it's built on lies?"

"Eris, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love you. I love you so much, and I never wanted to hurt you."

For a moment, he stood there, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions. Then, with a voice trembling with barely contained rage, he asked the question that had haunted him since the day you first met.

"Who is the baby's father?" he demanded, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Tell me the truth, now."

You felt the walls closing in around you, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a vice. With a shuddering breath, you finally gave in, the words tumbling from your lips in a torrent of pain and regret.

"It's Lucien," you sobbed, your voice breaking as you spoke the name. "Lucien is the father."

Eris's face contorted with a mixture of shock and fury, his eyes blazing with a fire you had never seen before. "Lucien?" he repeated, his voice trembling with the force of his anger. "You mean to tell me that my brother is the father of your child?"

"I'm so sorry," you cried, your heart breaking as you saw the pain in his eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you, Eris. Please, you have to believe me. I love you, and I need you. We need you."

He shook his head, his face a mask of anguish as he took a step back, as if trying to distance himself from the reality of your words. "I don't know if I can do this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know if I can be with you, knowing that your child belongs to Lucien."

"No," you pleaded, reaching out to him with trembling hands. "Please, don't leave me. Don't leave us. I love you, Eris. More than anything in this world."

For a moment, he stood there, torn between the love he felt for you and the betrayal that now threatened to tear you apart. Then, with a voice heavy with resignation, he spoke the words that you had feared most.

"I need time," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I need time to figure out what this means for us."

As Eris walked away, each step echoing like a death knell, you felt a profound sense of loss and despair wash over you. Your legs gave out, and you collapsed to the floor, the hard stone pressing painfully into your knees. Sobs of agony tore from your throat, each one more heart-wrenching than the last, the sound reverberating through the empty corridor. Your cries were raw, primal, a manifestation of the unbearable pain and heartache consuming you.

"Eris," you choked out between sobs, the name a desperate plea that went unanswered. The world around you blurred as tears streamed down your face, the reality of his departure sinking in like a lead weight in your chest. You felt utterly alone, the emptiness around you a stark contrast to the love and warmth you had shared with him.

Lost in your grief, you didn't hear the footsteps approaching until it was too late. A warm hand touched your shoulder gently, and you looked up through tear-filled eyes to see Lucien kneeling beside you, his expression one of deep concern.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine worry. "Are you hurt?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, replaced by another wave of sobs. Lucien's eyes flickered with understanding and sympathy as he helped you to your feet, his grip strong and reassuring.

"Come on," he said gently, guiding you with a firm but gentle hand. "Let's get you to the medical wing. We need to make sure you and the baby are okay."

You nodded weakly, allowing him to lead you down the corridor. Your mind was a whirlwind of pain and confusion, each step feeling like an eternity. The journey to the medical wing passed in a blur, the world around you a hazy amalgamation of sounds and shapes.

The healers quickly took you in, their hands skilled and efficient as they checked your knees and examined the baby. Through it all, Lucien stayed by your side, his presence a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil. His eyes were filled with concern, his hand never leaving yours as the healers worked.

"She's okay," one of the healers finally said, her voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "Just a bit of bruising on the knees. The baby is perfectly healthy."

Relief washed over you, though it was quickly overshadowed by the gnawing pain in your heart. Lucien helped you back to your feet, his touch gentle as he guided you out of the medical wing.

"Let's get you back to your rooms," he said softly, his voice filled with compassion. "You need to rest."

You hesitated, the thought of returning to the room you had left weeks ago filling you with dread. "No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Eris's room. Across from mine."

Lucien nodded, understanding in his eyes as he led you to Eris's chambers. As you approached the door, a sense of foreboding washed over you. With a trembling hand, you pushed the door open, your heart sinking at the sight that greeted you.

The room was empty. Eris's belongings were gone, the space devoid of any trace of him. It was as if he had never been there at all. You felt a fresh wave of despair crash over you, the reality of his departure hitting you like a physical blow.

"No," you whispered, your voice breaking. "He can't be gone."

Lucien's expression turned grim as he looked around the room, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said softly, his hand squeezing yours in a gesture of support. "I'm so, so sorry."

You sank to your knees once more, the weight of your grief too much to bear. Lucien knelt beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "We'll get through this," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered heart. "You’re not alone. We'll get through this together."

But even as his words offered a small measure of comfort, you couldn't shake the feeling of profound loss. Eris was gone, and the world felt a little colder, a little darker, without him by your side.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd @daardyrnitta @talesofadragon @thecraziestcrayon @asaucecoveredsomething @starryhiraeth @darling006

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lizzychanstuffss · 1 year

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Hey! I got a prompt for you: let's say that the reader comes from a place where courting braids are a thing. Their people usually has long hair and it's tradition that someone would braid their SO's hair. Reader is hesitant to bring it up since their former partners never did it because they found it silly or too time consuming. I think Astarion would love the idea of braiding reader's hair and would probably go overboard and come up with complex braids or add decorations into the braid (feathers, beads, jewelry and all that jazz). Baby boy wants to express his creativity and is happy that you trust him with something so important to you 🥺

And if the braid comes undone, oh no what a tragedy, he's just gonna have to do it again! 😉

If it's too silly or too much of a hassle, feel free to say no tho. I just thought it would be so freaking cute ☺️

This so cute omg I need to write this.

Astarion x Tav!reader GN

set post-game so spoilers

Requests still open!

Finally, after all the adventures of mind flayers and tadpoles, you were happy to finally settle down with your lover. Astarion was happy with the predicament too, even if you also wanted to find a way for him to walk in the sun again...but he suggested you should take a break first, or else your body might start falling apart.

So you took his advice and the two of you had been taking things slow for the past few months. You two had the rest of forever to find a way for him to be in the sun again, there wasn't a real rush. So with that in mind you finally started wearing your hair down more often, it was already rather long but the length really showed now that it wasn't tied up or braided to keep it out of your face.

But there was one thing you couldn't stop thinking about. It was something that was prominent in the area you grew up in and was something you hoped you would be able to continue with whoever you ended up in a relationship with. But considering your relationship with Astarion was forged in the midst of chaos it was never really the time to bring it up to the vampire.

But tonight the man saw you looking over a book. It had instructions for several different styles of braids but all of them were too complex for you to do yourself. You hadn't even noticed that Astarion had been behind you until he placed his hands on your shoulders giving you a peck on the cheek. His eyes glanced over the page and it instantly caught his attention.

"My, my what's this?" His knuckle stroked the page inquisitively. Looking up at him you smiled.

"Ah just some braids, where I'm from there was something called a courting braids..." You trailed off a bit slightly embarrassed at the thought of it. Astarion gave your shoulder a slight squeeze urging you to continue.

"Uhm well, when two people are courting one of them will braid the other's hair...it's a bit silly saying it out loud" You look away from him as you speak only to have him gently move your chin to face him, a frown formed on his face as he spoke.

"Darling, it's not silly if it's something you care about...and frankly it sounds rather fun" He paused. "Would you like me to try one of them?"

"Well, if you want to?" You smile up at him and suddenly Astarion seems so excited. The two of you get into a more comfortable position so he could properly do your hair. He gets to work looking at the guide for the braid and twisting your hair gently into the shape on the page. Once he's finished Astarion marvels at his work quite satisfied with himself.

"Oh my I do say you look rather dashing in this style" He chuckles before grabbing two hand mirrors handing you one and he holds the other to get a good look at the intricate braid. His handiwork is honestly remarkable, must have been from his skills in embroidery transferring over to another.

"You did a wonderful job Astarion~" You smiled as you looked at it. Turning to face Astarion, he was still rather excited by this new found talent he had discovered and it gave you an idea. "How about you do another more complex one?" Suggesting to him and his eyes seemed to light up at the prospect.

"Are you sure?" His eyes were filled with a sense of light at the prospect but he couldn't help but ask if it was really alright. He was still cautious about such things but you couldn't blame him, it’s not like though healing from trauma was a one fix all. Of course you give him an enthusiastic nod.

Then the man sets off to work trying another braid from the book, something much harder to replicate for certain. As you sit there his hands playing with your hair is a rather soothing experience, it takes a while but eventually he finishes this one. It's slightly rougher as he is still getting used to the process, but it demonstrates such skill and talent regardless.

Over the next weeks, Astarion continues to braid your hair. Sometimes he puts in flowers or ribbons or whatever other decorations he thinks would look nice against the color. Today he chose a more simplistic braid instead of his normally complex art pieces. But as you went about your day the braid ended up coming undone.

You were a little distraught as all his hard work became undone. Upon seeing this Astarion wasn't upset at all in fact.

"Oh dear~ such a shame I have to braid it all again" His voice was dripping with sarcasm and sass. Scoffing a bit in response to obvious tease, but then sitting in front of him.

"Alright, let me see what I can do" he smirks a bit letting the hair fall where it may and then getting started on something a bit more secure. As he works his magic looping the hair in on itself, adding a ribbon to help keep it in place.

Once he was finished he proudly showed off his work, a smile making its way across your lips as you take in his work. "You are quite skilled at this, love.” Turning to him you gave him a gentle kiss which he reciprocated in kind.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion fanfic #bg3 spoilers #astarionfics #astarion x reader #my writing

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azrielsdove · 12 days

Text

Petals and Pain: Tamlin x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Suggestive, Longgggg

The halls were dark, quiet, and cold. A stark contrast to the last time you stepped foot in this manor. You crept through the ruins, remembering how the grand place had looked before. It had been fifty-odd years since you last came here, since you last saw your oldest friend.

Everything had changed since then.

You had left Prythian on what was supposed to be a month trip to the other territories. You were to go both as a diplomat and as a tourist. Tamlin had wanted to try to better the Court with what you learned there, a task you so willingly took. You had bid him farewell and set off, excited to see what the world had to offer.

You didn’t know it would be the last time you saw him.

He sent a letter the moment Amarantha showed her evil hand, bidding you stay put. Every instinct in you screamed to run home, but you knew you could be of more help if you stayed away. Perhaps you could seek out assistance from one of the territories.

Your heart ached for the Spring Court all those years. Your travels brought you beauty, sure, yet it all paled in comparison to your home. You longed for the manor, its large windows and warm sunshine. You wished to walk through the gardens, so full of magic and peace. Above it all you missed Tamlin. The two of you had met long ago, when you were both not more than babes. Your parents were high up in the Court, trusted advisors to the High Lord. Often you were brought along as their pride and joy, their perfect little pawn. Talks of a betrothal to you and one of the High Lords sons began as you grew, your parents vying for the eldest. They knew he had the most chance of being the next High Lord. The goal was to get you in the highest position of power possible.

Your friendship with Tamlin grew as you did. He was pushed to the side more often than not, the youngest brother with no hope of ever being High Lord. Your parents were unhappy that he was the one you chose to befriend, but they couldn’t keep you from seeing him. Not without potentially upsetting his father. No, that wouldn’t do for their plan.

Until the slaughter of the entire family occurred. Your parents were unlucky enough to have been there at the time of the attack, murdered alongside Tamlins. Too quickly the manor went from a busy, full, lively place to just the two of you. Tamlin begged you to stay after that, insisting that he didn’t want to be alone. You couldn’t deny that you felt the same and gladly moved into the manor. He appointed you emissary, setting you as the first member of his court. Not long after Lucien showed up and turned your duo into a rather happy trio. You and Lucien worked together to keep the Spring Court in good favor with the other Courts.

You wondered where Lucien was now. What exactly had happened here, besides what you got out of Tamlins last broken letter. You continued further into the manor, peering into each room as you passed. There was no sign of life anywhere. You weren’t even sure if Tamlin was still here. You stuck a hand in your pocket, finger running over the edge of the letter that brought you here.

Spring has fallen.

It is all my fault.

The threat has gone.

Short, and not nearly enough information. You had raced back to Prythian as quickly as you could, trying to imagine what had happened.

Though nothing prepared you for this.

“Tamlin?” You called out softly, unsure if danger lurked nearby. A chill flew through the air, sending shivers down your back. A noise from a few rooms down the hall startled you, eyes darting towards it. You moved hesitantly towards the door, noting the dim light showing from underneath it. Slowly you pushed it open, once again calling out his name. You looked into the room, heart sinking at the sight.

You had found Tamlin.

From where he sat you could see his hair was matted, covered in mud and leaves. His once smart attire was torn and dirtied, hanging loosely off his much too thin frame. You could see his skin was pale, scratches covering most of it. “Tam?” You asked, voice shaky. He turned slowly to you and your hand flew to cover your mouth. His eyes were dark, sunk deep into his head. He looked as close to death as you could get while still being alive. “Oh Tam.” You dropped to your knees in front of him, gently wrapping your hands around his. You stared deep into those haunted eyes, heart breaking. “Let me help you.”

He gave no response, just continued to stare at you in that dead sort of way. You began to doubt there was anything of your friend left. You quickly busied yourself with all the healing remedies you brought from your travels. You weren’t certain what sort of state Tamlin or the Spring Court would be in when you arrived, so you brought as many fit into your bags. A good thing too, for several of these were desperately needed. You gently poured a few different vials into his mouth, watching carefully to make sure they took. You wanted to heal his body and mind as much as you could, in hopes that he could explain what had all happened. You administered one final draught for the night before gently leading your friend to lay in front of the damp fireplace. “Sleep should kick in soon, will you lay here for me?” You asked, laying down the cloak you wore as a sort of sad attempt at a bed. Tamlin laid on it with no comment, the horrid blank stare still on his face. You waited until he was asleep to go scrounge around for some wood, leading to a rather pitiful fire in the great stone fireplace. At least it was better than nothing.

You settled down in the least damaged chair you could find, watching Tamlin. Your mind was racing with questions. You were completely lost on how your once witty and charming friend had been reduced to this husk of a male. And where was Lucien? You were struck with a chilling thought, one that you didn’t wish to dwell on. You shook your head, shooing it away. Lucien had to be alive, something just must have come up. There was a perfectly logical reason for why he wasn’t here, and why the Spring Court lay in ruin. You just had to wait for Tamlin to wake and you could get some answers.

***

It was days before the High Lords eyes opened once more. You spent your time forcing water and various medicinal mixtures down his throat, exploring what was left of the manor when you felt up to it. Your heart ached at seeing what was once your beautiful home in such disrepair. It shattered completely when you made your way to your old rooms and found that they were the only place untouched. Dusty, yes, but otherwise just the same as you had left them. You had quickly brought Tamlin to them after your discovery, setting him up in your grand four poster bed. A reminder of a life that feels so long ago now.

It was soon after that Tamlin came to. He still looked close to death, but there was a minuscule brightness to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He murmured your name, a hand reaching out for yours. You grasped it tightly, tears pricking at the back of yours eyes. “Tam,” you whispered, “what happened?”

He gave a sad smile, shaking his head. “It was all my fault, truly. Everyone left. I let them all down. I allowed war to come to these lands, I allowed terrible things to happen.” He gave a short, sharp laugh. “All in the name of love. Love. What do I even know of it?”

You were confused, and a tad bit hurt at the mention of this so-called love. “Tell me from the beginning.”

And so he did.

He told you of what Amarantha had done, how she had tricked the Courts. How she vied for his hand and when he denied her she cursed all of Spring. He told you how she cut out Lucien’s eye, wincing as he did. He talked about the rules of his curse, how the only way out was to get a mortal to fall for him.

He spoke of Feyre, the love he had mentioned before. You could feel the pain in his voice as he did, as he explained how he tried to save her. “I was ready to sacrifice my entire court, just so she would be safe. A fool I was. A selfish, horrid fool.” He told you how they were all taken Under the Mountain, how Feyre came to try to save him. What she suffered in the months down there. How he didn’t know what to do, besides send Lucien to try to help her.

He talked about Rhysand, who you remembered all too well. He explained how the other High Lord assisted Feyre Under the Mountain, how Tamlin had thought it all a nasty trick. His voice broke as he recalled Amarantha killing her, but Rhysand and the other High Lords worked together to bring her back.

You had no words, shocked at the amount of respect they all had for this girl. Truly, you couldn’t help but be in awe of her yourself.

Tamlin continued, telling you how they were supposed to wed. How Rhysand had crashed the wedding, whisking Feyre away. He told you how Lucien and him thought Rhysand was nothing but evil, mind controlling Feyre to hate them. “Of course, she had every right to hate me. I didn’t know how to treat her after Under the Mountain. I allowed her suffering.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly, urging him to continue.

On he went, explaining that Rhysand and the Night Court were never truly evil, that there is a goodness there. He spoke of the war with Hybern, of what he had done to Feyres sisters. He told you how Feyre had turned the court against him, but it was his own actions that lead them to believe her.

He talked about Lucien, how he had fled with Feyre in the end. “I couldn’t even keep one of my oldest friends. I have done irreparable damage to everyone I cared about. It is good you were away, otherwise you would’ve been hurt too.” His gaze was faraway, eyes shining with untold pain.

You sat in silence for long moments, processing everything he had told you. Lucien had left him. That was no small fact, that what Tamlin had done was bad to have driven him away. Yet as look at the male in front of you, you struggle to see that he is truly evil.

“I believe your heart was in the right place, however your actions were a bit extreme,” you said slowly, careful with your words.

Tamlin laughed. “Just a bit?” You looked up at him, his eyes shining bright as he smiled at you. For just a moment you could see the old him in his face, the strong High Lord you once knew.

“Okay, perhaps a lot. I do not see why that should mean you must live like this now. It is not too late to make amends to your Court, and to Lucien. I am home now, Tam. Let me help rebuild our home.” And you, you thought, looking over his sickly state once more.

He nodded, agreeing. “Yes, yes. You always know what to do. For now, I will rest. I tire too easily these days.” His eyes were closed before he finished speaking, exhaustion taking over once more.

You sat in the quiet room for a while longer, still holding his hand. Your questions were answered, but in their place were a million more. For the first time you began to doubt if the Spring Court and its High Lord were truly fixable.

***

You spent the following days cleaning up what damage you could from the manor while Tamlin regained his strength. You took notice of how most of the destruction seemed caused by a rather large animal, piecing together what must have happened. What sort of a state had he been in to destroy his home in such a way? You had paused your questioning for now, focusing on his healing first. You did find where Lucien now resides and sent him a letter as quick as you could. You weren’t entirely sure what had all happened, but you hoped he would return once more. If not for Tamlin, then for you.

You were busy cleaning in the grand entry when a rather cold chuckle came from behind you. You turned quickly, holding your mop out like a weapon.

“Oh relax, it is only me,” a silky voice said, purple eyes glittering. You frowned.

“Rhysand.”

He placed his hand dramatically over his heart at your cool tone, feigning being stabbed. “Ouch. How long has it been since we last spoke, then? Welcome back to this side of the world. Noticed I didn’t see you in the war.”

You rolled your eyes, setting your mop down. “There could never be enough time in between our meetings. I wasn’t a part of the war, as I was unaware it was happening. The last I heard was the day Amarantha played her nasty trick, and I was told to remain away.”

“Lucky you. Away on your travels, galavanting around while the rest of us suffered.” Rhysand scowled at you, eyes narrowed. “You seem not any worse off for it.”

You crossed your arms tightly in front of you, anger flooding your body. “I did only as my High Lord commanded.”

Rhysand scoffed. “Some High Lord he is. Do you not see the state of your beloved Court? Do you truly believe an innocent male allowed ruin to befall your home like this?”

You took a step closer, ever defensive of your old friend and home. “What I have found is a hurting male, trapped all alone in a nightmare of his own creation. I have heard his regrets and his helplessness. I came back to find my home a dark shadow of itself, my High Lord, my friend, not more than a shell of who he was.” You looked Rhysand up and down. “I have found you, the male who won it all. You have your mate, Rhysand. You have your grand Court, your faithful family. I’ve heard you even have a perfect little son. And yet here you stand, coming to do what, may I ask? Taunt Tamlin? Kick him some more while he’s down?” Your fists clenched, anger tight in your chest. “I admit I do not know all that has transpired in my absence, but I know enough to say what you’re doing is wrong. I do not argue that he has hurt you, has hurt your mate, but to what end must he suffer? Will you not be happy until his heart has ceased beating? What more can he give you?”

Rhysand stood as still as death, eyes studying you carefully. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “You show a devotion I do not often see. If you ever come to understand there’s nothing for you here, i’d be pleased to see you in Night Court black. As I said so many years ago, Tamlin will never give you what you want.” He was gone in a dramatic swirl of darkness, nothing but a grandiose show of power. You frowned deeper, ever unsettled by the High Lord. He had always been condescending to you, deciding that you were worth hating just for being close to Tamlin.

As I said so many years ago, Tamlin will never give you what you want. You scoffed as the words played again in your head, picking your mop back up. Rhysand had convinced himself long ago that you only stayed close to Tamlin in hopes of being his bride. You’d laughed in his face the first time he said this, completely taken aback by such an accusation. You can admit a part of you would not have been unhappy with such an arrangement, but you had your position in Court on your own. Rhysand never saw you as more than a lovesick puppy that followed Tamlins every move.

When you returned to Tamlin you mentioned the meeting rather briefly, not wishing to upset him any further.

“Rhysand was here?” He asked sharply, eyes scanning you as though for injury. “Did he hurt you? What did he want?”

You sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at him. “He did not do anything, Tam. I assume he came to make sure you were still miserable. He wasn’t very pleased to find me instead.” A teasing smile danced across your face, an attempt to lighten the situation.

It didn’t work. Tamlin frowned deeply, clearly upset that this happened. “He comes every now and again to remind me i’m worthless and alone. He laughed himself silly when he saw how sickly i’d become last time.”

You forced your anger down, not trusting yourself to speak. While you understood why Rhysand would be so full of hate for Tamlin, there has to be a limit before it becomes just pointless cruelty. You took a deep breath, looking intently at your friend. “Whatever he has said to you is irrelevant now. You are healing, as is this Court. That is all that matters. Do not dwell on the events of the past, not now.” You reached over and grabbed the warm tea you had made, filling his cup with it. “Now drink, and rest. I gather soon you’ll be up to a walk around the grounds.”

***

Tamlins healing came slowly, and not without challenge. The first day he got out onto the desolate gardens surrounding the manor he fell into a darkness deeper than before, pained at seeing what his home had become. The physical healing was only part of the battle, the healing of his mind was what truly ailed him. You had brought him back to bed, forcing him to eat and rest. Once you were certain he was down for the night you made your way back outside, sitting on the cracked grand steps leading up to the entry.

And you cried.

This task was more than you expected. Tamlin was in worse shape than you ever imagined, the Court was nothing more than a few dead plants. You had no idea where to go from here, how else to aid in his healing. Even when he was healed, how were you going to go about healing the Court? Bringing the fae home? You’d heard how it had fallen, the poison Feyre had spewed, the ways in which some of what she had said rang true. You knew how Tamlin put his faith in the wrong beings, how his focus on her lead to his destruction. This was beginning to feel like all too much on you, but you refused to give up on him.

Someone spoke your name softly.

You shot up from the steps, eyes narrowing as you took in your surroundings. Your heart stopped when you realized who was standing in front of you.

“L-Lucien?”

His name was enough to have him running up to you, wrapping you tight in his arms. You sunk into his embrace, tears taking over with a new force. You allowed yourself to let out all you had been holding back, safe in the arms of one of your closest friends. Lucien held you close, body shaking with his own emotion. The two of you stood that way until your eyes were dry. When you finally pulled back enough to look up into his face your heart ached. One hand came up to gently touch the scarring left by Amarantha, anger and pain in both of you. “I’m so sorry I left.”

Lucien shook his head vigorously. “None of that. I stood by Tamlin when he decided you should stay away. I do not regret that choice for a moment.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, giving you one last squeeze before letting you go. “How is he?”

You sighed deeply. “He’s bad. I am starting to lose hope.” You were ashamed to speak the words out loud.

Lucien reached out and grabbed ahold of your hand. “Take me to him?”

You nodded, leading him through the desolate manor. You heard his sharp intake of breath as he took in the destruction, even with your pitiful attempts at fixing it. You paused outside of your rooms, looking up to Lucien. “He has not told me all that transpired between you, however he has told me enough. I am sorry for the pain you have suffered at his hand. The male you are about to see is but a shell of the one you once knew. If it’s too much I do not expect you to stay.”

Lucien squeezed your hand reassuringly. “At the end of it all, Tamlin was one of my greatest friends. And you are worth more than any pain he has bestowed upon me. I do not wish to see either of you suffer anymore than you already have.”

You gave him a watery smile and pushed open the doors. You felt his hand go slack as he took in the sight of Tamlin tucked into your bed, how sickly he still looked. You stayed close to the doors as Lucien approached him, allowing him to process what he was seeing. “Oh, Tam,” he whispered, a hand running across his face. “What have we done?” He stood there for a while, looking over his old friend. You went to him when you noticed the gentle shake of his shoulders, tears falling slowly down his cheeks.

“Come,” you whispered, wrapping an arm around him. “He will not wake until well into the morning. I’ll make you something warm to drink and you can rest until then.” You led Lucien down to the kitchens, fixing him up a cup of tea. He sat in silence while you did, staring blankly at the wall.

“I should not have left him in my anger,” he finally spoke, looking up as you handed him the cup. “I was so hurt by how he had acted, but I was not innocent in all that happened. Even when I disagreed with his actions I still followed him, up until the end. I’ve allowed him to fall into this state.” You knelt down in front of him, wrapping your hands around his.

“You must not think like that. We all have our own guilts and pain, but we must come back together now. Everything has changed and yet so much is the same. I have missed you, Lucien. I have missed the both of you more than I can say.” You looked down at your hands around his, taking a deep breath. “We need to come up with a plan to help him, to save our Court. Otherwise it will remain dead for eternity.”

***

Weeks went by. Lucien stayed and helped you, the two of you fixing up your home. Tamlin had improved greatly in the physical sense, but his mind was still riddled in guilt. Your pain at seeing him struggle had slowly turned into anger. “What else can we do, Lucien? Do you expect me to sit and wait decades more for him to move on?” You seethed, pacing back and forth in front of the grand fireplace. The two of you spent most nights in the newly refurbished study, the favorite of the rooms you’ve redone. The estate had been mostly repaired to its former glory, aside from the missing staff and High Lord.

“You know how long it can take. You saw the state he was in. I know it is frustrating to continue waiting but what else do you propose we do?” Lucien was as exhausted as you were, but his own guilt at letting Tamlin fall this far kept him slightly more amicable. You paused your pacing, turning sharply to look at him.

“I’m going to tell him off. We have let him deal with everything in private as much as we can. He needs a wake up call, and so help me I will do it.” You made your way from the room before Lucien could stop you. You knew you should calm down before you get to Tamlin’s rooms, finished only days ago. Your hands were clenched tightly into fists at your sides as you stormed through the manor, trying to decide what to say. All you knew was that you were angry and tired of watching your dearest friend lose himself.

You reached his doors rather quickly, shoving them open without a second thought. They clattered against the walls, alerting Tamlin to your presence. He looked over at you curiously, eyes scanning over you. “Has something happened?” He asked, sitting up in his bed. You crossed your arms tight in front of you.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Something has happened.” You watched his expression change slightly at the pure rage in your voice, as if he knew what you were going to say. “You. You, Tamlin. I am sick and tired of watching you wallow in self pity. I understand, you were hurt. You are ashamed of how you acted in your own rage. But how long must this go on? I am home, Tam. I am here, for you. Lucien and I have repaired this estate and you have done nothing but sit in this godforsaken bed and pout!” You couldn’t help the increased volume in your voice, all your hidden frustration bursting free from you. “I want you to get up. I want you to get out of this bed, put some damned clothes on, and come to work. Do you understand?” You stared him down, breathing slightly heavy.

Something strange flickered through his eyes, an emotion you had never seen in him. His voice was deathly cold when he responded. “Are you making demands of your High Lord?”

An exasperated sigh rolled off your lips. “At this point I’m more High Lord than you are.” You knew that was cruel, a direct attack to his already hurt pride. The rational part of your mind was screaming for you to calm down, to take a step back. But your anger was winning. “I came here to help you, Tamlin. Have I not done so? Have I not devoted my life to yours?”

His scoff cut you off. “No one forced you to do that,” he spat out, leaning back against his headboard. “You did not have to come back here. You shouldn’t have come back here.”

You rolled your eyes. “This is my home. You are my home! Don’t you get it, Tam? It has always been you!” The anger rushed out of your body at your confession, a sudden lightheadedness coming over you. “It was always you,” you whispered out, a hand coming to rest on your forehead. The strength left your body, your legs failing to hold you up. The floor was coming up fast, blessedly fast. You hoped you would hit it hard enough to forget this moment, your embarrassing confession.

Then you stopped. Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you back up. One stayed tightly around your waist while the other cupped your chin, forcing you to look into the perfect green of Tamlin’s eyes. “Say it again,” he whispered, breath ghosting over your lips.

“It is you. You are my home,” you murmured, brain foggy at his proximity. In all the decades of loving him, you had never been caught in a moment like this.

Tamlin took a deep breath before moving a millimeter closer. “How long?” He asked, each syllable causing his lips to brush against yours.

“Since we were children. My father pushed for me to marry one of your brothers, but I never held any interest in them. My heart has always called out for you.” Your body was on fire, every slight brush of his lips against yours a lightning strike under your skin. “I waited. I waited for you to choose me at Calanmai.” You felt his nails dig slightly into your waist at that, a shuddering breath running through him. “I waited for you to seek a wife once you were more comfortable as High Lord. I waited and waited. Then you sent me away.”

The hand under your chin moved to hold your face, thumb running gently over your cheek. “I sent you away,” he began, voice heavy, “because it was getting too hard to focus with you around. With the constant need running through my veins.” His hand dropped to the back of your neck, squeezing ever so gently. “Every Calanmai my body sang for yours. It took insurmountable control to not drag you in that cave with me each year.” You couldn’t help the noise that came from you at that. Something in Tamlin snapped, his pupils blown wide before pressing his lips fully against yours.

The kiss was harsh, unleashing decades of pent up desire. You cried out when he bit your lip, canines sharp. The taste of your blood on his tongue was positively sinful, making you feel a way you never had before. His lips moved from yours, running down your neck before his teeth sunk in to your shoulder. You moaned his name loudly, throwing your head back in a silent plea for more. Tamlin growled, the arm around your waist moving to slide down between your thighs. His fingers teased the waistband of your pants, your skin burning in the wake of his touch. You had half a mind to grab his hand and force it where you needed him the most, when Lucien decided to make his presence known.

“I see we kissed and made up?” He cooed, a smirk on his face as he leaned against the doorframe. Tamlin turned sharply to him, elongated nails and teeth on full display.

“Leave. Now.”

***

One year later

The Spring Court was alive once more. In fact, it was more beautiful than it had ever been. The flowers bloomed bright and big, their pleasant perfume filling the lands. The grass was the richest shade of green, the trees sang in the wind, and the air ran fresh. It was a paradise. You were admiring the peonies in the garden when two arms wrapped around your waist, tucking you close. You leaned into Tamlin’s hold, a content sigh escaping you.

“How are the flowers today, my love?” He asked, pressing a kiss behind your ear.

“They are perfect,” you said with a smile, resting your hands over his. You looked down at the glittering emerald set in gold on your finger, a matching golden band circling his own. “How is my husband today?”

“Mmm,” he groaned, pressing more kisses down your neck. “Greatly improved now that I have you here. The other Courts are being rather obtuse about answering our letters.” You turned in his arms, resting your hands upon his chest.

“Do you wish for me to deal with them again? You know they rather like me,” you teased, playing with the fabric of his shirt. Your husband rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweetly.

“They do seem to prefer you, High Lady.” You smiled at the title, a name you were still getting used to. You caught his lips with yours once more, threading one hand up through his hair. He sighed into your mouth, pulling you tighter against him. You lead the kiss, allowing his mind to grow muddled under your touch. You tugged on some strands of his hair, relishing in the guttural sound he made before pulling away from him and out of his grasp.

“Come on, High Lord. Let’s go convince the other Courts that a Spring ball is an excellent idea, planned by their very favorite High Lady.”

***

Ahhhh I LOVE this one. I hope you all do too! This took me agessss to write, but I am ever so thankful for your patience with me. <3

Note: If you do not like Tamlin, that is fine, but do not come here to argue. Just scroll on <3

#azrielsdoves 1k celebration #tamlin x reader #acotar x reader #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #petals and pain

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fanfictionismyaddiction · 12 days

Text

A Tyrell in the Lion's Den (Part 2)

Part 1

Word count: 4.4k

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!reader

Summary: Y/n Tyrell carefully navigates the dangerous political landscape of King's Landing, balancing loyalty to Tywin Lannister while grappling with the growing uncertainty and peril that comes with playing the game of thrones.

My requests are open

________________________________________________________

In the weeks that followed, my relationship with Tywin became the most exhilarating secret of my life. Every glance, every whispered word exchanged in the corridors of the Red Keep, only served to heighten the thrill. But as much as I relished our clandestine encounters, a part of me couldn’t shake the unease that settled deep in my chest. Tywin Lannister was a man of power and calculation, and I knew that being involved with him meant treading a precarious path.

Our meetings grew more frequent, though always shrouded in secrecy. He would send a servant to deliver a note—a simple piece of parchment with a time and a place. Sometimes it would be his chambers, where we would talk late into the night about everything and nothing, the weight of our responsibilities momentarily forgotten. Other times, it was the godswood, where we would walk together in silence, the cool breeze carrying our unspoken thoughts.

And then there were the nights when we didn’t talk at all.

It was on one such night, as I lay beside him in the dim light of his chambers, that I allowed myself to wonder what it all meant. Tywin wasn’t the kind of man to indulge in frivolities; he was too focused, too driven. So why was he indulging in me? Was I truly more to him than a distraction, as he claimed? Or was I just another pawn in his grand game, destined to be discarded when I had served my purpose?

I turned to look at him, his face softened by sleep, the stern lines of his features relaxed in a way they never were during the day. For a moment, I was struck by how vulnerable he looked, and I felt a pang of something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t love—not yet, at least—but it was something close. Whatever it was, it terrified me.

The next morning, as we dressed in silence, I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question that had been gnawing at me.

“Tywin,” I began hesitantly, fastening the clasps of my dress. “What is this to you?”

He paused, turning to look at me with that unreadable expression I was beginning to dread. “What do you mean?”

“This,” I said, gesturing between us. “Us. What does it mean to you?”

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver, but I could see the wheels turning in his mind, calculating, measuring. Finally, he sighed and walked over to me, taking my hand in his.

“This… is something I did not expect,” he admitted quietly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “But it is something I find myself unwilling to give up.”

His words were a balm to my anxiety, but they also left me with more questions. “And what happens when this becomes… inconvenient?”

Tywin’s grip on my hand tightened slightly. “It won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

I wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that this formidable man who had orchestrated so many intricate plots could somehow keep our relationship safe from the treacherous waters of court politics. But a part of me knew that no matter how careful we were, nothing stayed hidden in King’s Landing forever.

My thoughts must have shown on my face because Tywin’s expression softened in a way I rarely saw. “I care for you,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And I will do whatever is necessary to protect you.”

Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door. Tywin’s demeanor shifted instantly, the warmth in his eyes replaced by the cold calculation that so many feared. He released my hand and moved to open the door, his mask firmly in place.

It was a servant, delivering a message from the Small Council. Tywin took it without a word and dismissed the man, but I could see the change in him. The moment of vulnerability was gone, replaced by the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Hand of the King, the man who held the fate of the Seven Kingdoms in his hands.

“I should go,” I said, not wanting to overstay my welcome. “I’ll see you later.”

Tywin nodded, his attention already shifting to the message in his hand. I left his chambers, feeling a strange mixture of satisfaction and unease.

As I made my way back to my own rooms, I couldn’t help but think about what Olenna and Margaery had said. My grandmother’s warning about playing with fire echoed in my mind, and I wondered if I was indeed getting too close to the flames. But then I thought of Tywin’s words, his promise to protect me, and I felt a spark of hope. Maybe this wasn’t just a game. Maybe it was something more.

But even as I tried to reassure myself, a new fear crept into my heart. What if I was falling for Tywin Lannister? And what would that mean for me, for my family, for the future we had so carefully planned?

Days turned into weeks, and the tension in the capital continued to rise as Margaery’s wedding drew nearer. The city buzzed with preparations, the streets filled with merchants and nobles from all corners of the realm. It was a grand event, one that would cement the alliance between House Tyrell and House Lannister, and everyone was on edge.

Margaery, ever the consummate bride, handled it all with grace and poise, though I could see the strain in her eyes. We spent hours together, going over the final details of the ceremony, the feast, and the countless other events that surrounded the wedding. But even in the midst of all the chaos, she never missed a chance to tease me about my “distraction.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet about a certain someone lately,” she remarked one afternoon as we tried on our dresses for the wedding. “Has the lion finally lost his roar?”

I shot her a look, though I couldn’t help but smile. “Hardly. He’s just… busy.”

Margaery arched an eyebrow. “Too busy for you? I find that hard to believe.”

“He has a realm to run, sister,” I said, adjusting the delicate lace on my sleeve. “I’m hardly his top priority.”

“Perhaps not,” Margaery agreed, her tone thoughtful. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t matter to him.”

Her words made me pause. Did I matter to Tywin? Or was I just another complication in his already complicated life?

Before I could dwell on it too much, Olenna swept into the room, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of our attire. “Well, don’t you both look lovely,” she said, her tone approving. “It’s a wonder the entire court isn’t tripping over themselves to catch a glimpse of you.”

“Not all of us need to be the center of attention, Grandmother,” I said, earning a chuckle from her.

“True, true,” Olenna conceded. “But a little attention never hurt anyone. And speaking of attention, I trust you’re still keeping our dear Lord Tywin on his toes?”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t suppress the warmth that spread through me at the thought of him. “I suppose you could say that.”

Olenna’s expression softened. “Just remember, my dear, that men like Tywin Lannister are not easily swayed. If you’ve captured his interest, it’s because you’ve shown him something he’s not used to seeing.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Someone who isn’t afraid of him,” Olenna said with a knowing smile. “Someone who doesn’t cower in his presence or seek to curry his favor. That, my dear, is a rare thing indeed.”

I thought about her words long after we had finished our fittings and returned to our rooms. Was that why Tywin was drawn to me? Because I treated him like a man, not a monster? And if so, what did that mean for us?

The night before Margaery’s wedding, there was a grand feast in the Great Hall. The room was filled with the finest lords and ladies of the realm, all dressed in their most opulent attire, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine. Music filled the hall, and laughter echoed off the walls, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change.

Tywin was seated at the head table, his expression as inscrutable as ever. I caught his eye a few times throughout the evening, and each time, I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. But we were careful to keep our interactions to a minimum, knowing that the court’s eyes were always watching.

As the night wore on and the wine flowed more freely, I found myself slipping out of the hall, needing a moment of respite from the noise and the crowd. I made my way to the gardens, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stifling heat of the feast.

I wasn’t alone for long. A few minutes later, I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, and I turned to see Tywin approaching, his expression unreadable.

“Couldn’t stand the festivities any longer?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I smiled. “Something like that. And you? Surely the Hand of the King has more pressing matters to attend to.”

Tywin shook his head, a rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not tonight.”

We stood there in silence for a moment, the tension between us palpable. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Tywin,” I began, my voice trembling slightly. “What happens after the wedding? What happens to us?”

He looked at me, his gaze intense. “We continue as we have,” he said simply. “Unless… you want something more.”

I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. “And if I do?”

Tywin’s expression softened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “Then we will find a way.”

________________________________________________________

The wedding of Margaery and Joffrey was a spectacle unmatched by any in recent memory. The Great Sept of Baelor was adorned with garlands of flowers, the air thick with the scent of incense and the murmurs of the gathered nobility. As the High Septon pronounced the young couple husband and wife, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. Yet amidst the celebration, I felt a chill, as if the gods themselves were watching with bated breath.

The feast that followed was equally grand, with tables groaning under the weight of lavish dishes and endless goblets of wine. Joffrey, in his typical fashion, reveled in the attention, making crude jokes and ordering the musicians to play increasingly raucous tunes. Margaery played her part perfectly, smiling and laughing at her husband’s antics, though I could see the strain in her eyes. This was not the life she had dreamed of, but it was the one she had chosen—or rather, the one that had been chosen for her.

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere in the hall began to shift. The laughter became more forced, the smiles more brittle. Something was wrong, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I scanned the room, searching for the source of my unease, and my gaze landed on Tywin. He was watching Joffrey with an expression I couldn’t decipher—something between disdain and calculation.

And then it happened.

Joffrey, in the middle of a cruel jest, suddenly began to choke. At first, the guests thought it was part of the act, laughing along with the king’s apparent discomfort. But when he fell to the floor, gasping for breath, the laughter turned to screams. Chaos erupted as everyone scrambled to understand what was happening. Margaery knelt beside her husband, her face a mask of horror, while Cersei screamed for the maesters.

I stood frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me. Joffrey’s face turned purple as he clawed at his throat, his eyes bulging with terror. It was a gruesome sight, and yet I couldn’t look away. I could hardly breathe myself, the shock of the moment pressing down on me like a weight.

Tywin remained seated, his expression unreadable, though I could see the tension in his posture. He was watching everything, taking it all in, and I realized that he must have known something like this could happen. Perhaps he had even expected it.

In the midst of the chaos, a thought struck me like a blow: this wasn’t just an accident. Someone had poisoned the king. And if Tywin had anticipated it, then he was either involved or already planning how to use this to his advantage.

The realization sent a shiver down my spine. If Tywin had a hand in this, then he was far more dangerous than I had ever imagined. But before I could dwell on it, Joffrey gave one final, convulsive gasp, and then he was still. The hall fell into a stunned silence, the only sound the ragged breathing of those closest to the king.

Cersei’s wail of grief shattered the silence, and she rounded on Tyrion, who had been holding the goblet Joffrey had drunk from. “He did this!” she screamed, pointing a trembling finger at her brother. “He poisoned my son!”

Chaos erupted once more as the guards seized Tyrion, and I felt a surge of panic. Tyrion couldn’t have done this—he wasn’t capable of such a thing. But as I looked at Tywin, still calm amidst the storm, I realized that the truth didn’t matter. What mattered was how this tragedy could be used, how the pieces of the game would move in response.

I needed to leave the hall. I needed to think, to understand what was happening and what it meant for my family, for Tywin, for the realm. But as I turned to go, I felt a hand on my arm. I looked up to see Margaery, her face pale and drawn.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please, don’t leave me alone.”

I nodded, squeezing her hand in reassurance. Whatever was happening, we would face it together. We had no choice.

As the night wore on, the Great Hall became a place of mourning and fear. Joffrey’s body was taken away, and the guests were ushered out, leaving only the closest members of the royal family and their allies behind. Margaery and I sat together, our hands clasped tightly, while Olenna hovered nearby, her sharp eyes taking in every detail.

Tywin approached us, his face set in a grim mask. “Margaery,” he said softly, “you should rest. The day has been a long one.”

Margaery shook her head. “I can’t. Not until I know who did this.”

“We will find the culprit,” Tywin assured her, his tone as cold as ice. “But for now, you must take care of yourself. You are the queen now, and the realm will look to you for strength.”

The queen. The words hung in the air like a curse. Margaery had wanted to be queen, but not like this. Not with the blood of her husband still fresh in the minds of all who had witnessed his death.

Reluctantly, Margaery allowed herself to be led away, and I followed close behind, my mind racing. Tywin’s words had been carefully chosen, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye. He had a plan, of that I was certain, but what it was, I couldn’t yet fathom.

Back in our chambers, Margaery collapsed onto the bed, her composure finally breaking. “What do we do now?” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “What will happen to us?”

I knelt beside her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “We do what we must,” I said, though the words felt hollow. “We survive.”

Margaery nodded, though I could see the fear in her eyes. She was strong, but even she wasn’t prepared for the storm that was coming.

As I sat with her, trying to offer what little comfort I could, my thoughts kept drifting back to Tywin. What role had he played in this tragedy? And more importantly, what did he plan to do next? I had aligned myself with a man of immense power, but that power came with a price—a price I wasn’t sure I was willing to pay.

The days that followed were a blur of tension and uncertainty. Joffrey’s death had plunged the court into chaos, and the search for his killer consumed everyone’s thoughts. Tyrion was imprisoned, accused of regicide, though I knew in my heart that he was innocent. But proving that was another matter entirely.

Tywin took control of the situation with his usual ruthless efficiency, organizing the investigation and ensuring that the realm remained stable. But his actions only deepened my suspicions. He was too calm, too prepared. It was as if he had been expecting this all along.

One evening, as I made my way back to my chambers, I found myself face to face with Tywin. He was waiting for me, his expression as inscrutable as ever.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice low.

I nodded, following him into a nearby room where we could speak in private. Once the door was closed, I turned to him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” I asked, unable to keep the accusation out of my voice.

Tywin regarded me with a cool, measured gaze. “I suspected that something was afoot,” he admitted. “But I didn’t know the specifics.”

His words did little to ease my fears. “And you just let it happen? You let Joffrey die?”

Tywin’s expression hardened. “Joffrey was a liability,” he said bluntly. “His death, while unfortunate, opens up new opportunities for the realm. Tommen will be a better king—a more pliable one. The realm needs stability, and this is the way to achieve it.”

I stared at him, shocked by his callousness. “And what about Margaery? What about our family? Do we mean nothing to you?”

Tywin stepped closer, his gaze intense. “You mean more to me than you realize,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “But you must understand that this is the game we play. Power requires sacrifices—sometimes even those we care about.”

His words chilled me to the bone. I had known Tywin was a ruthless man, but this… this was something else entirely. He was willing to sacrifice anyone, anything, to maintain his grip on power. And I was beginning to wonder if I had made a terrible mistake by aligning myself with him.

But even as I questioned my choices, a part of me was drawn to his strength, to his unwavering resolve. Tywin Lannister was a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, and in a world as dangerous as this, perhaps that was exactly what I needed.

“Where does this leave us?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Tywin reached out, taking my hand in his. “It leaves us exactly where we were before,” he said. “You are still important to me, and I will protect you. But you must trust me, even when things seem uncertain.”

Trust. It was a dangerous word, especially in the world we lived in. But as I looked into Tywin’s eyes, I realized that I didn’t have a choice. If I wanted to survive, I had to trust him.

I nodded, though the doubt still lingered in my heart. “I understand,” I said quietly.

“Good,” Tywin replied, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “We have much to do, and the game is far from over.”

________________________________________________________

The days following Joffrey’s death were consumed by a whirlwind of activity. The court was in a state of upheaval, with every noble and servant whispering about the poisoning and the ensuing chaos. The trial of Tyrion Lannister loomed large on the horizon, casting a shadow over everything. Cersei was relentless in her accusations, demanding justice for her son with a fury that brooked no dissent.

Margaery was a picture of stoic grief, playing the role of the mourning widow with impeccable grace. Yet behind closed doors, she was deeply troubled. The death of her husband, even one as detestable as Joffrey, had left her vulnerable, and she knew it. The power she had been so close to securing was slipping through her fingers, and there was little she could do to stop it.

One evening, as we sat together in her chambers, Margaery voiced her fears. “What will become of me now?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Joffrey is dead, and Tommen is just a boy. Cersei will do everything she can to keep me away from him.”

I took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Tommen is kind-hearted and easily influenced. With time, you can win him over. And remember, you have grandmother by your side. She is a formidable ally.”

Margaery nodded, though the uncertainty in her eyes remained. “But what if Cersei succeeds in keeping me away from Tommen? What if I’m cast aside like Sansa was?”

I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. The truth was that Margaery’s fears were not unfounded. Cersei was ruthless and would stop at nothing to protect her remaining son. But I couldn’t let Margaery lose hope. “You are the Queen, Margaery. You have the support of the Tyrells and the goodwill of the people. Cersei may be powerful, but she is not invincible.”

She gave me a small, sad smile. “Sometimes I wonder if I was ever truly meant to be queen. Joffrey’s death feels like a sign that I’m cursed.”

“Nonsense,” I replied firmly. “You have the strength and the intelligence to navigate this storm. And you have me. We will face whatever comes together.”

Margaery’s smile grew a little stronger, and she leaned her head against my shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

As we sat there in silence, I couldn’t help but wonder what Tywin’s next move would be. He had assured me that everything was under control, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more twists and turns ahead. I needed to be vigilant, to protect both Margaery and myself from the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the Red Keep.

A few days later, I received a summons to meet with Tywin. I wasn’t surprised—he had been unusually distant since our last conversation, and I knew that something was brewing. When I arrived at his chambers, he was seated at his desk, a map of Westeros spread out before him.

“Sit,” he said, not looking up as I entered. I obeyed, taking a seat across from him. For a moment, there was only the sound of the crackling fire, and then Tywin finally looked at me.

“The situation is more complicated than I anticipated,” he began, his voice as cold and calculated as ever. “Tyrion’s trial will be a spectacle, and Cersei will stop at nothing to see him executed. However, there are those who believe in his innocence—people who could prove troublesome if they were to act on their convictions.”

I nodded, understanding the implications of his words. “You want me to keep an eye on them?”

“Precisely,” Tywin said, leaning back in his chair. “You have a unique position within the court. You’re close to Margaery and the Tyrells, and people tend to underestimate you. Use that to your advantage. Find out who is sympathetic to Tyrion, and report back to me.”

It was a dangerous task he was asking of me, but I knew better than to refuse. “And what of Margaery?” I asked carefully. “She’s worried about her position now that Joffrey is dead.”

Tywin’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes remained calculating. “Margaery will be fine, as long as she remains useful to us. Tommen will need a queen, and Margaery is well-suited to that role. But she must not overstep her bounds. Cersei will be watching her closely.”

I swallowed, knowing that Margaery’s future depended on a delicate balance of power. “I’ll do what I can,” I promised.

Tywin nodded, his gaze piercing. “Good. Remember, loyalty to the Lannisters will be rewarded. Betrayal will not be tolerated.”

With that, he dismissed me, leaving me with the weight of his expectations on my shoulders. As I left his chambers, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of dread. The game of thrones was becoming more dangerous by the day, and I was walking a very thin line.

Over the next few weeks, I began to carry out Tywin’s orders, subtly gathering information from those around me. I listened carefully to the conversations in the court, noting who spoke in favor of Tyrion and who remained silent. It was a delicate dance, one that required me to be both discreet and cunning.

Margaery, meanwhile, was doing her best to maintain her position. She spent more time with Tommen, charming him with her kindness and winning over the young king’s trust. But Cersei was never far away, her presence a constant reminder of the danger that surrounded us.

One evening, as I was returning to my chambers, I was approached by a figure I hadn’t expected to see—Varys, the spymaster. He moved silently, his expression unreadable as he blocked my path.

“A word, if you please,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I hesitated, glancing around to ensure we were alone. “What do you want?” I asked warily.

Varys smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been very active lately, gathering information for Lord Tywin. But I wonder, do you truly understand the game you’re playing?”

“I understand enough,” I replied, though my heart was pounding in my chest.

“Do you?” Varys’s tone was almost pitying. “Tywin Lannister is a powerful man, but his power is built on fear and manipulation. You are valuable to him now, but what happens when you’re no longer useful? The Lannisters are not known for their mercy.”

His words struck a nerve, and I felt a surge of anger. “What are you trying to say?”

Varys sighed, as if disappointed by my response. “I’m saying that you should be careful where you place your loyalties. The winds of change are coming, and when they do, those who are too close to the Lannisters may find themselves swept away.”

With that cryptic warning, Varys turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving me with more questions than answers. His words lingered in my mind, fueling the doubts that had been growing since Joffrey’s death.

#fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #tyrell reader #tywin x reader #olenna tyrell #house tyrell #margaery tyrell #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones #a game of thrones #tyrion lannister

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sinfullyrosey · 2 years

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A Simple Prick

Malleus Draconia X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hypnosis (kinda), Vaginal Penetration, Fairytale Ending... with a Twist

I was remembering that scene in Sleeping Beauty where Aurora’s under that sort of trance and is slowly walking along the castle and up the steps towards the spindle, and my brain decided to parody it.

Being the human royal heir of a kingdom that’s still in rivalry with Briar Valley. The war may be over, but your parents were still wary of the dark fae they once fought in battle, so didn’t invite the king or queen to the celebration of your birth in fear of what curse they may befall upon newborn you. This did not go over well with the fae royals and they crashed the celebration, not out of disrespect towards them, but their son, as it was customary for your kingdom to invite any and all available royal children to meet yours as an early courting ritual.

To not allow their son to meet you, your parents were saying that he was not worthy of being a possible future candidate for your hand in marriage. That he was not worthy of your love.

So, the king and queen of Briar Valley laid a curse on you, a curse that stated that on your 21st birthday, you were to fall in love with their son when the thorn of a dragon fae pricks you. Those in your kingdom did not fully understand the words of the curse, so none knew what a dragon fae thorn was. Many believed it was the thorn of a rose bush that lined the fae kingdom’s gardens, while others believed it must be a needle or even a weapon used by the dark fae.

Regardless, your parents, sick with fear and worry over the fae taking you away from them in a forced, loveless marriage, set out to hide you away from the wretched fae royals who cursed you. You were sent away to live deep in the forest with three trusted advisers once you were a little older. There, within that cozy, little cabin, you laid hidden and raised to be ignorant of your curse.

As the years pass, you grow in near solitude, blissfully unaware of the world around you. The only escape you have are your dreams, where you get to witness a world outside of the limited one you’re confined to. A world beyond the trees, where a dark castle lies, with thorny rose bushes and stony beasts surrounding it. It’s a place found only in your dreams, and within these dreams stands a misty green figure shrouded in darkness and flames. A figure you’re never able to fully discern, but of whom you welcome nonetheless.

This figure speaks to you of wonders and tales beyond anything you could ever imagine. Spoken with such poetically silken words. Words that drew you further into him as time passed and you grew older. Words that captivated you and gave you comfort in your lonely years of existence. Oh, if only this figure were real. If only you could meet him for real and finally share yourself with him instead of seeking him out in your slumber. If only…

Fast forward and you are now twenty, about to celebrate your 21st birthday. It’s a day you have been waiting for since you were told by your guardians all those years ago. The day you would finally be able to return home and leave this gilded cage behind. The four of you had a mini celebration before heading out back to the castle, your home. Cake was shared and gifts were given, a brand-new outfit for you, one of white and gold. Unbeknownst to you, a wedding garb, as you were set to marry another royal arranged to you for your return. A failsafe to be sure the fae would not be able to steal you away from them.

On your carriage ride to your home, disaster struck, literally. A bolt of lightning, followed by the sound of thunder, came crashing down in front of your carriage, causing the horses to panic and the carriage to flip. Miraculously, you were unharmed, but the coach and your guardians were all knocked unconscious. And before you could think of what to do next, the soft sound of a distant voice reached your ears. It was a familiar sound, but one you could not fully recognized. It called to you, beckoned you to follow it past the brush and trees. You could not shake the sound filling your head and obeyed its heed.

You walked towards the voice alone and in a trance. You don’t know how long you had been walking or how much time had passed, but soon you reached the gates of an ebony stone castle, surrounded by a veil of vines and thorns. The gates seem to open up for you and lead you down a path that took you to a winding stairwell. The whole time you listened to the voice soothingly carry you up the stairs and into a room. This room was not empty, however, as there, standing before you at the glass window, was a tall, dark figure.

The dark figure turned to face you and your entranced eyes widened, mouth falling open in awe. The figure before you was that of a man, pale skinned with pointed ears and coal black horns atop his head. An even pointier pair of fangs poked out as his blackened lips curl up into a grin at you. He wore all black with dark green accents, further adding to his shadowy presence. He gave off an air of elegance and power, one that’s dark and foreboding. And yet, it all felt familiar, like you knew who this man was, but couldn’t fully visualize him.

Until a familiar pair of glowing, emerald eyes catches your own.

Those eyes…

You’ve seen them once before…

Once, upon a dream, you saw him there. You met him there, in your dreams. All those times again and again…

He is right in front of you now, looming over your much smaller frame. You only gazed up at him with wide eyes in disbelief. He called your full name then, dangerous, green eyes leering down at you so intently. You could only blink and call his name in turn.

“Ma… Malleus?”

His grin grew wider at the sound of his name upon your lips. Pale hands with sharp, black claws rested along your sides, leading you both to the bed. He sat down with you still standing before him, now at eye level with him, and your hands gently cradled in his. You tilted your head in confusion, still not comprehending that he was really here, or that you were here, in the very castle you thought was a creation from your dreamscape.

“It seems you are already dressed for the occasion.”

He gave your attire a once over, finally able to admire you after so long. You could only respond with a quiet, “Huh?” before he chuckled at your oblivious expression. His hands fiddled with his robe, drawing your attention away from his memorizing eyes and instead to the stiff member poking out from beneath the black cloth.

It was big and dark, like the rest of him. It stood straight up and sharp. You had yet to see this part of him but was pleasantly surprised regardless. It was as if he could read your thoughts, sensing your confusion and desire.

“It is a thorn, my beloved. A dragon fae’s thorn to be precise.”

You did not understand the significance of his words, but blushed nonetheless. Mind racing with such desirable thoughts. The whole sight was just ethereal. The fae chuckled and pulled you closer, guiding you to his lap.

“Come, it’s time.”

You don’t know why, but you felt that you understood. This may be your first time meeting the mysterious man, but you were still familiar with him. You felt a deep longing towards him that developed and bloomed with each passing season.

You had danced with him among the flower fields and briar, an unknown melody twirling its rhythmical notes around the two of you. You chatted and spoke of your lives with each other, sharing dreams and secrets that nobody else but you and he knew. You knew him, even if you didn’t, you knew him.

Like being in a trance once more, you moved aside your own attire to lay yourself bare like he done for you, your pussy on full display for his eyes only. You crawled into his lap, making yourself comfortable before hovering yourself over his length. You gazed down to see his cock twitching in anticipation for you, the sight making your heart skip.

You aligned yourself, inhaled, and slowly sunk yourself down onto his awaiting cock. Your unprepared walls fluttered around him, squeezing yet still readily accepting all that he had. You wince at the sharp pain that pricks at your insides, whining at the fullness of him against your velvety walls and already feeling overstimulated.

“O-oh!”

Your eyes widened when your thighs finally met his, the full length of his prick reaching deep inside you and sending you in a dizzying haze of pleasure and sudden emotions. Your eyes drooped dreamily as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Despite the stormy, gray clouds surrounding the castle and the glassy haze that clouded your vision, you had never seen things so clearly as you did now in this moment.

“Malleus, I love you. I. Love. You.”

And with that, you sealed the confession with a kiss, his misty green eyes widening, but melting into the kiss, lips molding with yours.

Word soon got out throughout the kingdom about the missing-turned-runaway bride. The royal carriage ambushed and princess nowhere to be seen. The king and queen were in a panic, afraid of what had befallen their precious daughter and sole heir to the kingdom. But their wails of despair were interrupted by a messenger making their presence known in the great hall. With them, a single letter with an all too familiar seal stamped in a dark green wax in the shape of a dragon.

It was addressed to the king and queen, from the Queen of Briar Valley, inviting them to the wedding that was to be held in the kingdom of the fae. The wedding between the soon-to-be King Malleus and his betrothed: their precious daughter and princess of their kingdom.

At the bottom, officially signed in ink, were the signatures from both the bride and groom to be.

~Malleus & Y/N Draconia~

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Smut #TWST #TWST Smut #Malleus Draconia Smut #Malleus Draconia X Reader #Fem!Reader

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cherryxblossxms · 1 year

Text

Masturbation May - Day 3b: In the Shower (Satan)

A/N: Satan was suggested for day 3 by an anonymous sender! I couldn't quite decide the direction I wanted for this initially but finally just settled on some good ol stress relief via orgasm lol.

Featuring: GN reader || Satan x reader

Warnings: masturbation; some jealous Satan; mentions of marking and breeding (not specific to reader); just some much-needed self-assurance and stress relief in the shower~

Word count: 1411

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Satan just needed some kind of stress relief. He knew it was just his temper, easier and quicker to rile up thanks to his sin. But it seemed like everything was going wrong lately, getting on his nerves and pushing him to the edge of exploding. Lucifer was yelling at him about something or other, his favorite cat café had to close early because of an emergency with the owner, and his brothers were all getting into silly, nonsense arguments with each other.

Normally, these things alone wouldn't be enough to make him snap completely. But to top it all off, you had gone on a trip to the Human Realm with Solomon two weeks ago, supposedly for some training and gathering some items specific to your home. In your absence, the House of Lamentation always fell into chaos, no one to buffer the ridiculousness and provide a voice of reason.

Satan knew he shouldn't blame you, or use you as a means of resolving everyone's problems. But your presence was like a magic balm, easing his spirit and always managing to wrestle the others into compliance. And now all this pent up stress was leaving aches in his muscles and gave him a near constant migraine.

He couldn't even focus on his books, attempting to read through various tomes on his ever-lasting quest for the perfect curse for Lucifer, but realizing halfway through that he wasn't absorbing any of the information. He snapped the heavy book shut in anger, sending out a plume of dust that covered his upper half. Satan coughed and set the book aside.

Great, now he was both dirty and angry.

Trying to keep his boiling rage contained, he quickly gathered clean clothes and made his way to the bathroom, hoping against all odds that no one else was in there, or he'd really snap for good. Thankfully, the room was clear, and he quickly undressed as the water grew hot.

Once he was in the water, he sighed, the heat helping to relieve his aching muscles. Although he wouldn't admit it, he often wondered about taking up an offer from Asmo for a spa treatment. He was sure he needed it, and that it'd probably do wonders for his temperament, at least for a little while. Relaxation of the body is supposed to help relaxation of the mind, he figured.

Sadly, the relief didn't last long as his now unbusied thoughts kept going back to all the annoying things happening lately. He just wanted one day of peace, of not being nagged by Lucifer for sneaking in a stray cat, or not hearing the constant whine of Levi hounding Mammon for his money. And thinking of you, he hated being away from you for so long. It was unfair that you had left him, not to mention traveling with Solomon.

Although he was usually secure in his relationship with you, something still bothered him about you being alone with the Witty Sorcerer for so long. Not that Satan didn't trust you, he knew you would never cheat on him. But he wasn't always sure he trusted Solomon and his flirty, flowery words.

Just thinking of it made his skin itch, picturing Solomon trying to court you, to take you from him. Even though he knew he was completely blowing it out of proportion, the thoughts came unbidden to him. The next time he saw you, Satan resolved he'd have to leave his mark on you, to ensure no one, especially Solomon, could ever mistake who you belong to.

The more he thought of marking you, the faster his blood pumped, something ancient and instinctual waking up in his veins. He wanted to cover you in his scent, make sure all anyone else could smell for miles was him. He wanted to leave his fang marks in your skin, leave dark hickeys across your neck and chest, somewhere highly visible so no one could mistake his intentions.

Even better, he wanted to mark you with his seed, cover you outside but especially inside, as deep as he could manage, make sure it could never leave you. It didn't matter if you could get pregnant or not, the deep animalistic need still roared inside him to do it anyway. That final thought sent a throbbing pulse down to his dick, and Satan didn't even realize he was completely hard until his hand was already subconsciously wrapping around his cock and stroking.

He wanted you there, he needed to show you that he was all you ever needed. He was your mate, your lover, and everything you ever wanted, he would provide to you as long as you'd let him. He would show you, he could pleasure you a thousand times over with the way he knows your body, so that no one, especially Solomon, could ever compare.

Satan cursed. Now he was so hard it hurt, needing you in his arms, and on his cock, immediately. The rest of his body was relaxed but now all the ache sat in his groin, begging to be inside of you. You weren't due to be home for another week, and he knew there was no ignoring his erection at this point, so he settled for relieving himself for now, already formulating a plan of attack (of the pleasurable variety) for once you returned.

He shut the water off and quickly stepped out, thankful that you two kept a spare bottle of lube under the bathroom sink. He poured some on his hand as he re-entered the shower and continued stroking. He felt ridiculous, all pent up over his dumb worries and demonic needs, and wanted nothing more than to drown his worries in the pleasures of your body. Only you seemed to know how to truly relax him, but a fantasy would have to do.

He could just picture it, the moment you came back from your trip, how he'd pull you into his room and make sure you didn't go anywhere until you were thoroughly pleasured and marked by him. He wanted to taste your lips, feel your warm, bare skin against his, hear your affirmations that he was the only one for you. The next time you saw Solomon, Satan wanted it to be obvious that he knew your body inside and out and that Solomon wasn't nearly worthy enough to be your mate.

Now fueled by anger and his lust for you, his thoughts were really letting loose. He wanted you sprawled across his bed, legs tossed over his shoulders as he pounded into you, or maybe he'd have you ride him until you couldn't hold yourself up anymore. Maybe to reassure his worries, you'd take his cock down your throat, knowing how gorgeous you look when you struggle to fit him in your mouth.

He pumped his cock faster, using one hand to hold his base steady and add more pressure, chasing that sweet high. As water droplets dripped from his hair onto his body, Satan imagined pulling you into the shower with him, picking you up to fuck you against the wall, letting your moans and screams of his name echo in the bathroom to ensure everyone in the house knew exactly who was pleasuring you. He'd fuck you as long and as hard as you could stand it, making sure to reach the furthest depths within you, as long as you wanted him.

Satan was now panting as his climax approached, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He used the last of his sense to picture bringing you to climax, eager to cum deep inside you, release all his stress into you, and feel you clench around his cock and milk him dry. Just dreaming of achieving that pushed him into that pleasurable zone, and he groaned deep in his throat as he released the first ropes of cum, moving his hand up to work the head of his cock, drawing out every bit of pleasure and cum he could.

He came a surprising amount, likely from lack of release while you'd been gone, and he felt a little sad about the waste as it washed down the drain. But now that his mind was cleared, and his body was well and truly relaxed, he couldn't wait for your return. He was going to make sure everyone knew that you were his, and relieve all his stress with you the way only you could do.

#satan x reader #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #satan smut #spicy minx 🔥#the minx can write ✍️

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powerpuffobsession · 4 months

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Charlie, a princess who grew up in hell and mind you wanders around its streets freely, strikes me not as a naiive

But more as uncaring. No naiive person could be that reckless and ignore signs of when they should apply more effort to help their loved ones. Especially the one who should have long ago learned how the world around her works (she's 200)

let's count:

Takes as granted that Vaggie sees successfully helping Charlie as the only basis of her self esteem and personality (treating her gf more like a servant, an unfortunate consequence of Vaggie being nerfed as a character in general). Plus, Charlie dumps the responsibility of leading trust exercise on Vaggie without warning, making her feel anxious (who does that?)

Goes to Valentino's studio to "help Angel" just for brownie points. Doesn't think through an actual plan, actually thinks that Valentino would be okay with that and not abuse Angel more after he gets angry with Charlie (girl you grew up in hell), runs away crying from a bruised ego when something goes wrong instead of staying there and fixing her mistakes

Just stands there smiling when Alastor is shitting on her dad and outright lying about how he (Alastor) was supporting the hotel project since day 1 (when it was Vaggie actually...). Charlie doesnt correct him, she doesn't shut him up. She just..listens and awes. Girl, you aren't even in love with Alastor in canon. So why? My only guess is that Charlie doesn't even want to admit that someone she picked for help can act wrong and just suppresses the truth

Instead of being more mindful in the angel court, she blurts outloud how she doesnt trust angels (bad move that in real life distances someone you're trying to persuade, from you), and overall acts disrespectfully and aggressivelly (I doubt that in season 2 she's gonna be said to have learned from that mistake)

She only cares about sinners, as an object of her wonder, ignoring those who didn't have a choice of ending up in hell - imps

All in all: it even seems like Charlie's hotel wasn't organized to actually help sinners but to stroke her ego and help her get friends. We don't see Charlie putting any effort into understanding the psychology of human sinners, doing any research or at least hiring an actual shrink or other experts

Sinners at her hotel help each other out through befriending each other just because the writers want them to (seriously, try naming actual character traits that realistically intersect and provide believable chemistry). They could have easily done that without the hotel.

So what's the difference, and why does Lucifer pamper his daughter in the finale by saying that it was her who "changed their minds and touched their hearts"? (Given that he himself changed his mind after just one song that had no buildup to it lol - what a challenge that was indeed)

#hazbin hotel critical

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scekrex · 6 months

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Hurt/comfort anyone? 😌

We all know Adam's "big and tough" act, how he gloats before anyone that he's the absolute best since he's the og dick and he's the reason the rest of the mankind was created, but what about Adam just being Adam like anytime else, especially the scene in court and Sera just talking his ear off about him acting irresponsibly and just revealing the exterminations to everyone in the worst way possible, just giving him a good ol' talk, but not in a nice way, nope. She crushes his ego in a way before leaving him alone in the room, saying she has stuff to attend and he's just standing there, all deflated and his mask glitching from how many conflicted feelings fly over his face, he's resignated, he's even sad a bit, but also angry. At Sera, at Heaven, God even, but mostly at himself since he knows he fucked up another thing in his life that he was trusted with.

He goes back home to unsuspecting of anything reader and just passes by him, not saying a word, even tho reader tried to greet him and hug him, but was unable to since Adam just brushed past him quickly. There was a heavy air surrounding reader's husband and he grew concerned, so he went to check up on him, seeing Adam just curled up on the bed, wrapped up in his own wings, shielding himself away from the world, not a sound coming out of him, but reader knew something shitty happened and just gets behind him, hugging him tightly and gently petting his wings, not saying a word to let Adam calm down and speak when he's comfortable enough to do so. Adam just smashing himself into reader and asking quietly if he was actually so bad at everything that he didn't deserve anything good in his life, if that was why everyone he cared about before left him and even now no body cares in the slightest bit about his existence. Basically just Adam having an existential crisis and reader being his anchor, trying to tell and show him how it actually is and not what his mind is telling him.

This sad, wet cat bitch needs validation and love like no one before 😞🤘

Muah ❤️

Adam might be an insecure piece of shit underneath all that narcissistic bullshit act of his but he's my insecure piece of shit and I love him.

If I'm so wonderful then why am I so misunderstood

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“Adam,” the older seraphim raised her voice against the first man loudly, it echoed through her office with much more power than the first man had expected it to, he flinched a little at her tone, his wings dropping to their lowest. “Sera, I-” Adam wanted to explain, wanted to turn it into the stupid joke it had been, but the older seraphim had enough of it. She had enough of Adam, she had enough of his behavior and she was about to let him know. “You’re behavior is no longer accepted by us,” she started what would turn into a monologue, Adam made himself appear a little smaller at her words. “You walk on heaven's holy ground, eat the food our Father provides and whenever someone does not show you respect, your first argument is that you're the first human,” all of the things Sera had listed were true, well they had been the most obvious ones but that didn't make them less true. “And yet you behave like one of them sinners,” that however caught Adam's attention. He was what? How dare she insult him like that, he was very much not acting like a sinner. Or was he?

“You walk heaven's streets with curses on your lips, you dirtied your own purity by sleeping with so many women and men, you behave like a total child and don't know when to stop and where to draw the line and I personally am under the impression that we let your behavior slide for way too long,” she stared Adam in the eyes, giving the first man the most serious look he had ever gotten from the seraphim. The brunette lowered his head in defeat, Sera had often given him shit for being too loud, too much of this, too much of that, she had told him he wasn't behaving like the pure first human should - but it wasn't Adam's fault, not really, because how was he supposed to behave ‘normal’ when God had given him two wives just to take them from him again when he was alive? How was he supposed to fit in and act like everyone else when all that would bring him would be pain?

“Maybe divine judgment failed you. Maybe you should have ended up in hell amongst the other sinners. Father certainly wouldn't have liked it, not after Lucifer's fall, but it would have been the correct decision.” And that made Adam crumble into pieces - at least mentally. Because deep down inside he knew she was right, that no angel other than him dared to stain the name of the Father above, no other angel dared to behave as reckless and merciless as he and his exorcists did. And yes, no other angel than him had slept with so many women and men - a thing he used to be proud of. Before he had met you, before you had become his lover, before he had committed himself to you and only you. Before you, he had been different.

She smoothened out her hair, straightened her back and looked down at Adam, “I have to attend an important meeting. You shall leave and overthink your actions, Adam.” And with that she left him there, leaving him as she had shattered not only his ego but the last piece of confidence he had held inside of him. It took the brunette a while to realize that Sera was not coming back to comfort him, to tell him that she had been too harsh, why should she? She was right after all, Adam was a horrible person, he knew that, had known it ever since.

When the door to your shared apartment opened and Adam walked through it, you were quick to get up and greet him with a warm hug, expecting your boyfriend to be just as excited to see you as you were to see him. But he wasn't, in fact he didn't even look at you as he crossed the living room in order to get to the bedroom, no ‘sup babes’, no ‘Fuck I've missed ya stupid ass' no fucking nothing. The tips of his feathers were dragging on the floor as he walked, a sign that something wasn't right - Adam always made sure that not a single inch of his beloved wings was touching the dirty ground, even in your apartment. The brunette clearly wasn't in the mood to talk, yet you went after him to let him know that he wasn't alone, that you were there no matter what was wrong.

You opened the bedroom door quietly and what you saw shattered your heart. Adam was laying on the bed, his body looked like a ball made out of feathers, he had curled in on himself, his wings shielded him from all of reality, from whatever was hurting him right now. Yet you saw how his body shook, the first man was crying.

Wordlessly you closed the door behind you, trying to do so as quietly as possible. Then you walked over to the bed and cuddled up behind him, one of your hand gently found its way into his hair, petting it just the way you knew he liked it whenever he was feeling upset about something, the other hand of yours smoothened out the feathers covering his wings, gently rubbed the little gap between where the wings grew out of his back - you were very aware how sensitive that area of the angelic body was given that you yourself had experienced it before.

For you it was ridiculously hard to keep quiet, you wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask what was upsetting him so much, why he was crying, what there was for you to do to make it better, but you didn't. You remained quiet, Adam had made it clear that he preferred not talking about it at the moment - or maybe he simply found himself unable to do so, you weren't quite sure which was the case but either way you respected it.

A small smile appeared on your face as the brunette leaned into your touch, he tilted his head backwards, sad, puffy and reddened eyes watched you as you continued to pet his hair without a single comment, if Adam wanted to talk, you would listen. If Adam wanted to stay quiet and enjoy your presence in silence you were fine with that as well. For you it simply was important that the first man knew he wasn't alone. You were there to provide comfort and a safe space he desperately seemed to need.

“Am I as fucking terrible as people tell me I am?” there it was again, his unnecessary cursing, fuck Sera had been right. He rolled himself over, buried his face in your neck and pressed his body against your own. Your body warmth calmed his nerves, made his mind quiet down for even just the tiniest moment, but it did cause it to quiet down. “Is that why I only have Lute and you left? Because I'm fucking terrible? Because I don't deserve damn good things to happen to me?” his voice was really just a whisper yet you understood every word perfectly fine, even if it was mumbled against your skin. Your hands remained on the gap between his wings and in his hair, giving Adam the stability he craved. He needed someone to cling onto, he was too unstable to hold himself together so you did that for him. “No,” your voice was soft and warm, yet serious, it caused Adam to blink in confusion. “I don't deserve you,” was the next thing he said, and that was where you drew the line, you gently tilted his head upwards, then placed a soft, loving kiss onto his lips, “Bullshit Adam, you're wonderful and I love you.” “But I’m not. I curse a-fucking-lot, I can't keep shit together, for fucks sake I can't even do the simple things like telling you I fucking love you every day.” And yes, that was true, but that didn't cause you to love him any less, if anything it was things you loved about him especially. “I don't care about all of that, I still love you.” “Will you leave me too? Like Eve? Like Lilith? Once you finally fucking find someone better?” You shook your head lightly, placed another kiss onto his forehead, your lips kept resting against his skin as you spoke, “No, dummy. To me there's no one better than you are. You're the best for me and you'll always be.” Adam didn't answer you.

He clung onto you even tighter, wrapped his wings around you and held you close. He didn't believe you, simply couldn't, not after what Sera had said. But at the same time the first man trusted you with his existence, so why would you lie to him? His inner conflict was silenced as you pulled him into another gentle kiss. You couldn't help but hum a soothing melody, “You’ve already changed so much, so many things you've done,” you felt as Adam's eyes fell shut and as his body relaxed underneath your touch. “So many songs you've sung, and in the end, they will still hold their grudge,” you felt him nuzzle against your skin, felt how his breath evened out. “There’s something I've been dying to say, more than anything,” you smiled as you sang the last part, feeling Adam's fingers digging in your skin as he tried to pull you even closer - not that it was nearly enough though. “More than anything, need you to know I love you more than anything.” The first man pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss against your jaw before he fell asleep, from his lips fell a quiet, “More than anything.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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nwjn-z · 10 months

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Hi :) can you please write elf king Kyle x reader headcannons or a oneshot please?

Dating Elf King Kyle [headcannons]

warning(s): none

author’s note: anon words can not express to you how incredibly sorry i am for this being so late but here you go💔

you two have always known you would be together

since the both of you were 8 you knew you would one day marry as an arrangement between your parents

though you had only met once briefly at 10, you officially began courting when you moved to his palace at 17 to prepare to wed.

when you two met again for the first time in 7 years it was very awkward

the whole getting married to basically a stranger thing was kinda weird for both of you

the awkward phase of nervous hand holding and half smiles for your parents lasted until one night

you were on your way to a ball together when he asked you about a book he saw you reading

it was about forest animals and he then asked if you’d like him to show you something

you agreed and he then whispered something to the carriage driver and sat back down and put his arm around you

you noticed the driver had took a different turn than the way to your parents palace so you asked him about it

“Kyle, where are we going?” you ask softly tilting your head slightly to the side looking up at him

“Do you trust me?” He asks looking back down at you

“I suppose I do.” You reply

“Then you will see.” he said slightly smirking

after around 15mins you arrived at the mysterious place Kyle brought you to

it was a forest, lightly wooded though it so it didn’t seem dangerous but you did wonder in that moment

“why would he take me here?”

you looked up at him confused and they back in front of you and then that’s when you saw it

a group of deer in the not to far away, enough distance to not scare them but still close enough to see them in all their glory

“Kyle!” you whisper yelled at him

“They’re cute right?” he asked with a cheeky grin

you watched as the small group of deer ate and rested in total bliss, enchanted by their delicate beauty

you watched as a small doe stood closely by its mother, fearing ever leaving her side

“They are such beautiful creatures.” you said with a giddy smile seeing them live so peacefully

“I’ve always been fond of deer.” Kyle says to you

“They are so gentle, yet strong, delicate, but never fragile, sensitive, but not weak.” he continues “they remind me of you.”

“Really?” you respond, feeling your face heat up at his words

“Yes really.” he responded with a slight giggle

after that day your relationship with Kyle grew more comfortable than before, you really felt like listened to you, heard you, and cared about you

he took time to know not only your interests but also you dislikes

he remembered how you like certain food cooked, what smells and colors you dont like, and any other little thing most people wouldn’t notice about you

Kyle always makes sure you are not only treated as a princess, but also as his future queen

he has only the best clothes tailored, the finest food cooked, and showers you with the most lavish gifts money could buy

Kyle is often away for royal duties so he feels as if he has to make up for the time he can’t spend with you by getting you gifts

You appreciate his gifts ofc but you often have to remind him that he really doesn’t have to spend so lavishly on you

he does it anyway 🙄

speaking of him being away on royal duties

he hates it

he would much rather be spending time with you than having diplomatic meetings and shit

that’s why he’s all over you when he gets back

for like weeks he’s a total leach

all and all he’s a really sweat bf/fiancé that would do anything for you <3

#🎬 — nwjn-z!#south park #south park x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x you #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle x reader

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ashestoashes7 · 1 month

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Thoughts about kevjean and kandrew dynamic ?

So, so many of them. thanks for asking, anon

With Kevin and Jean, they’ve almost grown up together. Jean taught him French, Jean taught him a whole mother ingrate shared between just the two of them. Neil was gone, Jean’s misplaced forever partner was out of his reach and there was no perfect court fill in to take his place, but Kevin was right there. So Jean taught him French, grew closer and closer to a partner who wasn’t quite his but was the closest there could be to someone for Jean to rely on. Promises and secret smiles and how could Jean not fall for someone as beautiful and perfect and flawed as Kevin Day? And even when Kevin was at Palmetto, he had Jean’s number. He called, and Jean answered. What Jean and Kevin shared was special and rare and born from sparks of kindness in a world that wouldn’t tolerate such tender inclinations. Kevin went out with Riko on their press appearances and elsewhere and in a million scattered places he found pieces of Jean in trinkets he saw along the way. Kevin’s affection was in secrets and French and pins and postcards. And Kevin cares enough for Jean to make sure he can get out when Renee brings him back, arranges for his transfer to USC because he believes that is where Jean can have the opportunity to thrive.

Now onto Kevin and Andrew <33

Kevin and Andrew came together when everything was wrong and twisted and falling apart around them. They looked at the ruins of the other—apathetic and grasping at thin air & lost and glancing at every shadow like the broken shards of his future would be taken from his bloody grasp—and sat there handing each other the pieces. Kevin was the first person to tell Andrew he was worth something, and Kevin trusts him. Kevin and Riko originally went to recruit him for the Ravens and perhaps when Andrew refused it wouldn’t have been as clean a breakaway if Kevin hadn’t intervened. A goalie like Andrew? They Ravens would have wanted him, and his denial wouldn’t have stopped them from getting him in black and red one way or another. But I think in TSC they mention that after they didn’t get Andrew Riko mocked Kevin for a while and I wonder if Kevin stepped hard enough on ‘he’s not worth it’ to keep Andrew from Evermore. And Kevin promises him something to build his life around when they seal their deal. It’s a heavy promise to make, especially considering Kevin’s prior promises, but he takes it because he looks at Andrew who practically the whole world has written off as some form of ‘not worth it’s and sees something worth fighting for even if one of his most difficult opponents will be Andrew himself. The first time Andrew smiled once he was off his medication was for Kevin. Kevin branded his progress across his cheek and Andrew actually smiled because Kevin needed to see it, that he was Kevin Day and this was Andrew Minyard who truly believed in him and the future they may yet live to create.

#hope this answers your question anon #<33 #thank you 💖#asks #kevjean #kandrew #kevin day #andrew minyard #jean moreau #aftg #all for the game #ash has thoughts #tsc

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simpingland · 2 years

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To young for war, too beautiful for battles// Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!oc

The first daughter of Daemon with Rhea has a special bond with Aemond, but his green conciusness sabotages the relationship. Romeo and Juliet could (literally) never...

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

The Black's came to King's Landing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding. They all knew that intense days were going to be happening. Uncomfortable dinners, awkward breakfasts and silent lunches. Specially for Alyssa, the first born daughter of prince Daemon, her late mother Rhea Royce was barely a memory for her, only the name her septa would say when they reminded she had a mother. Laena was closer to a mother than Rhea, but it was clear that her own daughters were her priority. Her loss pained still, again she felt like an orphan, and now she had two beautiful half sisters to care about, at least she ached in company. She was the oldest of Daemon's daughters, and the one she trusted the most, so she was the first to welcome Rhaenyra as her new step-mother. She was excited for her new brothers, Jace and Luke, lovely children, even tho, a bit naives to be true dragon blood. But she also felt like that sometimes. Alyssa was a lonely girl, she did not dare to ask too many questions to her father, knowing well that he wasn't the honorable men every girl wish for a father to be. Growing up she found herself surrounded by the King's children, Rhaenyra accepted her as her ward. Helaena was her closest friend, the only girls in the court. But the princess was too much of a dreamer to be an entertaining friend. So Aly wondered for hours through the Red Keep, and Aemond usually followed her. They had very much in commun, not only age, but also they felt outsiders in their own family. Of course, she was more comprehensive of those who ignored her,as she daughter of the infamous prince, so she never accepted Aemond's anger and eagerness, but she did understood him. She tried very hard to calm him, to talk him down, but he refused. He would annoy her, as children did, because it was the only way he thought she would notice him. They would end up bickering non stop some days, always when the family was present. But when he followed throw the Red Keep, she would catch him, and she always gave him a welcoming smile, letting him walk beside him, exploring together. Nobody really knew about their chemistry, with time, Aly realized that Aemond was the one hiding it. Many times she approached him kindly for a dance during feasts, or asked him to ride with her in the yard, and it was always him who responded rudely, as if he haven't enjoyed her company so many times. The only person aware of the bond was Rhaenyra, who caught them once in the dungeons, she saw them giggleling together and talking nonsense, but very peacefully. She even remembered the time she enjoyed Alicent has her best of friend, so she always reassured Aly when she ended the day with tears because of Aemond's bullying. Aemond regretted his behaviour Aly's father came back, he asked Rhaenyra to send her back when Baela was about seven, wishing to have her daughters together and safe. Even though he missed her, he didn't let her know it the day she saw her again, that day at Driftmark. He only looked at her. She tried to convince him not to take Vhagar, to respect the late Leana, and let poor Baela claim her. But he didn't listen and he lost an eye that day. That night, Aly saw the reason why Aemond mistreated her, why he was determined to hate everyone. It was her own mother the one to seek vengeance, the one who was blind to forgiveness, and the only one who seemed to care for Aemond. He felt so lonely that he did as her mother said, and because he did what his mother said he was becoming more lonesome. It was a circle, a terrifying one.

In Dragonstone, Aly grew into a woman, never forgetting Aemond, she dreamed of him, pitying him, his good friend and worst enemy. She felt so stupid for it, falling for someone so cruel, willing to kill his own. So she felt conflicted when she saw him for the first time in years. How can someone change so much in a few years? He was training, fencing with Ser Criston. A patch on his eye, her face longer, slimmer than last time, so tall and quite attractive. He didn't saw her until he put his sword down.

"Alyssa..."

"Aemond"

They looked at each other, Aemond found trouble to keep himself as cocky as he usually was, Ser Criston was there, and if Aly was there sure was the rest of the Blacks.

"You look sharp, my prince" smiled Alyssa.

"You look a bit prettier, I'll give you that"

"Only a bit? Well, that is because you can only see the half of me" she joked. A laugh sounded behind her. Aemond turned and saw his nephews. Jace didn't even try to hide it. Luke eyed him carefully, seeing the work he did years ago on his face. "Are you exited about the wedding?"

"I'm not the one fucking tonight and i don't enjoy drinking and dancing, so all the excitement is left to the groom" he couldn't hide the look he gave her, up and down, she looked stunning even in her simple dress. Jace and Luke explored the yard like the teenage boys they were, Ser Criston entered the Keep. Aly started to examining the weapons in front of her.

"Oh, lucky Aegon, he will jump his way into the septa" she gave a malicious grin to Aemond, knowingly.

He chucked at the comment. "Now, that part I will enjoy it at least"

Rhaenyra saw them talk and smile from a far. She now remembered herself with her husband Daemon.

The ceremony was quick, but very boring. Rhaenyra purposely let Alyssa stand infront of her, holding a very sleepy Luke as an excuse. So Aly had Aemond beside her, his shoulder very close to her face. The slow voice of the maester soother her into a sleep she didn't knew she was holding, her eyelids became so heavy...she couldn't helped it, she dropped her head into Aemond's shoulder, his long steady arm enduring her. She wasn't sleeping, but she was somehow resting like this. Aemond looked at her cautiously, she looked extremely tired. He turned to look at her mother, but she was holding tears while looking at the bride, not happy tears, sad tears, he knew that that day Alicent would be grieving the fate of her only daughter. So Aemond let Alyssa rest for the rest of the ceremony, only the applause woke her up. Confused, she apologised to Aemond, who only smirked to himself. Non of them could see the death stared Daemon was giving them from behind. Rhaenyra saw them, she will took care of that when the time comes.

The feast was another story. Alyssa loved music, and of course, she loved to dance. On very little occasions she had an excuse to enjoy it, only on name days. She found her sisters the loveliest of dance partners and Rhaenyra was always disposed to join the dance floor. Her father did too but that day he kept himself nailed to his chair. She was the first to stand and walk to the dance floor, bringing Baela with her. Almost everyone was either drunk or dancing, many were both. Rhaenyra took her husband to dance with her, to make him forget about Aemond for a bit. Aegon was so drunk it was embarrassing to watch and poor Helaena looked at her rings as if she had never see them. Alyssa saw her then, and remembered the lovely time they used to have as children. She reach for the princess and offered her hand.

"A bride should tire her feet from dancing on her wedding day"

She smiled at Alyssa and took her hand. Everybody look at both of them. Two Targaryen princesses, one with silver hair, the other with auburn locks. One dressed in a clear green dress and the other in a red gown. They spoke little, but the princess started to move through the floor, exchanging partners and laughing at the playfulness of the moment. Alicent saw her from her table, and Rhaenyra invited her to join, quickly connecting her to her daughter, she smiled when she partnered Helaena. King Viserys smiled at the image, a moment of peace, Aegon, on the other hand, felt sick, not only of the alcohol, but because of the noise. People ignoring the silent war they had. He looked at his brother Aemond. He had his eye locked into Alyssa. Aegon was about to speak to him, probably insulting someone, when the younger stood up, the music just changed, a slower dance.

Luke was dancing with Alyssa when he reach them.

"Dear nephew, mind i take your lady?" Said Aemond, already standing in front of Alyssa pushing Luke back.

"I do mind, un--" he was slowly but strongly pushed away by Aemond. He gave up, he learned his lesson in Driftmark.

"I don't see the need on being rude at every fucking moment" spilled Aly.

"You are the one swearing around ladies and lords" they had already started the dance "besides, I hold you the entire ceremony this afternoon"

"Oh, damn it...you noticed it...I should have slept under your right shoulder..." she shamelessly smiled at him.

"What a funny little lady" he smirked. "You definitely are a dragon born. Daring to mock the prince like that..."

"Good customs must never dissappear"

"Well, if you have decided to be so immature then I'll have to inform the entire court about your tendency of farting on the carriages"

She laughed and playfully hit him on his arm. He pretended to be deeply hurt.

"Oh, my prince, did I hurt you? My poor, poor prince..." she laughed.

"You keep laughing at me, maybe I'll send you to keep old Fred in company down in the dungeons for insulting your prince" Aemond remind her of old Fred, the ghost that only existed on their adventures during the Red Keep days.

"Well, many people had to dissappear before you can sit on the throne..." they continued to dance, ignoring the exchange of the partners "maybe then I'll fear for my sake, my prince"

"You see me willing to kill you, Lady Alyssa?"

"I saw you willing to kill my step-brothers" she no longer smiled.

"But I did never touch you, did I?"

They stopped dancing.

"No, but you sure remember the way you made me feel in front of everyone"

"Well, we treated ourselves as the children we were then" he obviously lied, she would never fell for that.

"That's not true, Aemond..." she did in fact, not fell for it. "You and I shared a bond, you made me laugh for hours when you dare to aproach me...but then you remembered that I was not to be trust. I cried myself to sleep so many nights. I thought you were my friend, that made it so much more painful..."

"You were a Black" he said.

"I was a child...so were you". She had tears threatening to fall on her face. He hold her hands but she pushed him away and, very quietly, disappeared from the room.

He felt his loneliness drop into his body as if someone just throw a gallon of water over his head. The music became a noise and the people became faceless. He then saw Daemon, staring at him. Aemond did admire his uncles...he admire him as much as he feared him. But Alyssa was something else. All his childhood he'd found trouble associating Alyssa to Daemon, not only for he hair, but because Alyssa was an equal. Thats how he felt with her. For him, Alyssa wasn't someone's daughter, or someone's ward, or someone's friend. She was just Alyssa, the girl she would seek for a little walk, the girl who spoke the truth in the sweetest of manners, a terrible dancer but a dedicated one. So, Daemon became a faceless person too, and Aemond decided to turn and leave, searching for his friend.

She was where he hoped she would be. In one of the secret corridors of the Red Keep. She often hid there as a child, and she showed it to Aemond in a moment of trust. He remembered that day when he saw her, just like she was years ago, Alyssa laid her body against the wall, her head down, and arms crossed. When they were six years old, Aemond found her there after she was humiliated by Aegon, the young prince did not spoke in her defence and Alyssa ran away. He took care of the little wound Aegon put on her little knee. To calm the girl, Aemond told her about that time he caught his brother jerking off, joking about the possible sexual fantasies of the boy. He made her laugh so much she forgot the pain, and she rewarded him with a kiss on the lips. Aemond was too surprised and too small to respond it, and they didn't make a deal out of it, but it was a secret, and they each kept in secret the fact that they remembered that kiss every single night before falling asleep.

"I've found more secret places in the Red Keep since you left" he spoke softly.

"I know most of them..."she had been crying.

"Why did you choose this one then?"

"This one's my favorite, so you will do me a favor if you left"

"This one is my favorite as well..." he got closer. "The ones I discovered were never as special as this...They were dull, boring...lonesome".

"I have spend my days feeling stupid for missing you...you never respected me...never appreciated me as much as I appreciated you...you have hurt my brothers and I invented so many excuses to forgive you for hurting me".

"You are right, Alyssa. We were kids, but you do understand that something bigger was over us...that we had to keep our distance".

"Can you just...apologies?" She looked at him now.

"I will admit, I have missed you" he hold her hand again. "Did you miss me?"

"You know that I have".

She touched Aemond's face. He closed his eye at the soft hand.

"As much as you love your family, I love mine as well" spoke Aemond, putting his other hand over Alyssa's. "But I do apologise, and I beg for your pardon, here, in the corridor where I felt in love with you. And I swear to you that I would never, ever, hurt you".

To say "I forgive you" would have been enough, but the emotions left Alyssa voiceless. So she kissed Aemond right there. Their lips met in a passionate but slow kiss. As if they were made for each other, they melted in an embrace. When they separated, they spend a few moments in silence. Caressing their faces and hands. They walked together through the secrets corridors. Kisses between the path and laughs and jokes. Maybe they could end the war, maybe they both die during it. But the uncertainty was the spark of passion.

The farewell came between secret walks and stolen kisses. Alyssa had told Rhenyra and Rhaenyra had told Alicent. But the response was a no. No, they would not be married. The daughter of man like Daemon. He was refusing as well, the son of a woman like Alicent. Too much pain has been already cause and no marriage will solve that. So they reunited again one last time.

"I think the gods made us enemies because they were afraid we could reach them"

She laughed softly "If I was your wife you would have locked me in a room, with babies and needles...The gods made us enemies because they love me" she joked, trying not to cry.

"I would never let you root like that, Alyssa, never"

Aemond spoke softly on her ear, moving her brunette hair aside. Alyssa pushed him away putting a hand on his chest. She looked at him in the eye. They shared one last kiss, a tear falling and Aemond could taste the salt of it. He cleaned it with soft stroke.

#aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon x oc #house of the dragon #game of thrones fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #comrade aemond #marxist aemond #aemond x you #aemond one eye #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon imagines

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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Not Through The Grapevine (Yandere Idol!Diluc Ragnvindr/Reader)

Alice's, mother of Klee, note: Wouldn't it be funny if you ended up producing 5wirl or Kreideprinz? Haha! I don't think your little friend would like that. He might just take my wine cellar away– stick with Diluc, dove.

P.S: Producer Lumine, can I just write "a/n" next time? This poor mother's getting tired of typing :'(

1k event masterlist

------

"At this time I decide to,

Get over you and

Want to tell you not through

The grapevine but directly"

- Sakyo-taifu Michimasa

This was the most recent poem you found tucked within your favorite book, printed on a red square paper. The paper looked pretty– and it was faintly scented with grapes too. At first, you assumed it must have been picked up off the floor and put somewhere, and that "somewhere" just so happened to be one of your favorite books.

"Damn it. Help me…" You chuckled nervously. "Can't believe those stalkers thought my book was one of ADDICKTZ again…"

Which "tea" will they spill this time, you wonder? Will they leak that Dainsleif likes "The Scarlet King's Court Jester"? Or maybe they'll say that Zhongli is trying to reconnect with the modern age by reading contemporary fantasy novels? You rolled your eyes, shaking the love letter like you would with a polaroid.

Oh wow, the contents of this letter are so enthralling. 10/10. You're so impressed. Great job, stalkers.

It's lovely poetry, but once you encounter numerous stalker fans, it sours and loses its charm. After being friends with Diluc, Kaeya, and Ajax for most of your life, you've grown incredibly desensitized by unhinged fans. You have so many bizarre expectations of them that you can't remember the last time you were actually astonished by something they did. Perhaps you'd be surprised if this love letter was for Itto– he doesn't like novels or receiving these types of riddle-y love letters. He'd probably prefer getting a used towel instead.

But there's always theory number #2:

It's possible that Kaedehara Kazuha from the other unit wrote this.

The thought of him made a goofy smile creep up your face unsuspectingly. Damn it. You're starting to feel like one of those fangirls– but can you blame yourself? Kaedehara Kazuha is just so utterly captivating. Maybe he's the one who intentionally put this in your book– can't a person dream? There's nothing wrong with imagining yourself as the protagonist of some romantic escapade with an idol, right?

Someone cleared their throat.

"Oh, freaki–" You jolted and nearly dropped the card. When you caught a clear view of his face, you immediately felt relieved.

"Ah, good evening Master Diluc." You bowed slightly, sneakily slipping the red paper back inside your book. "You have nothing in your schedule for this week."

"Is that so?" He hummed with a small smile on his face. "Well, do you have anything on yours?"

"It's positively empty, sir." You grinned.

"P-Please, (Y/n)." He covered his face with one hand, avoiding your feigned business-as-usual eyes. "I know that you're my producer now but can we drop the act?"

"We can, but this is so much fun though!" You beamed. "It's like our friendship got ten extra steps– don't take that fun away from me!"

Diluc grunted laconically. You do have a point. The only real change from being a childhood friend to a producer was a fancier title and a damn good paycheck. Fans would kill to be Diluc Ragnvindr's childhood friend AND producer. There's no one else he trusts as much as you. He was a reckless child and you were always there to stop him from getting into trouble. You never failed to clean up after him whenever he decided he'd build a massive medieval lego set.

That's why it's such a miracle that he grew up to be such a quiet and reserved person. To think this was your friend who got banned from Disneyland of all places– Nowadays, he's more focused on inheriting his father's company and this "unexpected side hustle" of his.

"Dove, since we're both free– do you want to try a bottle of this year's wine?"

"Diluc, we're good friends, so you know that we both loathe wine, right?"

"Ngh, you're right. I can't say I know what possessed me to ask that question." He flinched. "Wait, no, I do– listen (Y/n), Adeline wanted me to come to a Snezhnayan Dawn Winery event this Friday and I don't have a plus one."

"Oh?"

Not that it happens often but Diluc's hilariously affectionate when he's completely inebriated. He does not do well with foreign alcohol. When you were both rebellious teens, he went out and drank a bottle of fire-water with Ajax behind Uncle Crepus' back. This was around the time these two "frenemies" started getting along. A few hours later, Diluc sent you a couple of slurred-voiced messages of how much he loves and cares about you– which was abruptly wrapped up by two quick texts:

"as a comrade of course"

"***friend i mean friend."

Given how awkward it was, you promised Diluc that you won't tell a single soul about this when morning came and he seemed both mortified and relieved about your proposal… You'd rather not have a "part two" of that.

In addition, Ajax acted weird around you ever since. He always gives you a look of pity. Last week, you asked him how he knew the password to your phone when he lost his phone and needed to call his producer. He answered that he "got it from Diluc when he was drunk" with a traumatized look on his face. That was four years ago; you're all in your twenties now. You've changed all your passwords since then.

You want to help him, but you're still a bit hesitant. He's bound to drink fire-water this Friday. Given how you and Ajax would be unwilling to accompany him, you decided to throw Kaeya under the bus.

"Why not invite your brother?"

Diluc's eyes squinted.

"Oh, right."

Kaeya's been absent for a week now, you're not sure why and his producer wasn't answering your calls. You wonder how they're doing…

"How about the others?"

"Everyone in ADDICKTZ is busy except for Producer Snail."

… Okay let's try to avoid that as much as possible. You don't want Itto's producer crying over some rich people's escargot.

"How about 5wirl-"

"Not happening."

You smiled sheepishly. He probably didn't want Venti to come. "Alright, you got me. It's hard to say no to you. I was only planning to laze around the house anyways."

"Thank you. I'll make it worth your mora."

"It better be because I'm not cheap, sir."

"(Y/n), please–"

—--

It was a Friday night and the two of you decided to meet up at the venue's parking lot first. You were leaning against a tree while waiting for him. When he did arrive, you saw him in a black tuxedo accentuated with red accents. There's no doubt about it. He's idol-worthy and more.

Compared to you, this is just... Gah, how can you even compare to him?

"Hey, um, you look great! Like usual, and I kinda feel bad that I showed up wearing this." You frowned. "So, um, is this... acceptable?"

He closed his eyes and chuckled. "Do you really have to ask that?"

"I'm not going to lie, I'm a bit self-con–"

"Don't be. You're breathtaking." Diluc crossed his arms and spoke earnestly. "Even if you wore the most atrocious outfit known to man, you'll forever be gorgeous to me."

You were still flustered. "That's sweet and all but it REALLY doesn't help me–"

"You're aesthetically pleasing. You have exquisite tastes– you picked just the right colors that match your eyes and I adore the way you styled your hair for tonight." He muttered with a scowl. "Seeing you put in this much effort… makes me want to delude myself that I am someone special to you, just this once."

You paused.

"But you are special to me."

Diluc smiled bitterly. "Not in the same way as him, no."

"What do you mean?"

"So, how much should I pay you for this?" He digressed jokingly, but his grin looked painful. "Surely, I have to pay a high price for commissioning a lovely fae."

You laughed. "Yeah. You owe me a pay raise, sir!"

Diluc shook his head. "... Another pay raise– Maybe I should stop calling you Dove and start calling you Mora from now on."

"Bold of you to assume I'd hate that."

"... Why are you my best friend, again? Anyways, do you have your purse?"

"Yes, I d–..." You ferreted your handbag. "–on't. No, no I don't– shit."

"Of course, you forgot. Never mind, just stay close to me. Don't be obliged to drink anything even if they're pressuring you to. If you ever need to go home, I'll pay for the taxi."

Diluc grabbed your hand and walked towards the venue. You looked down. His hands were warm– or maybe it was your own temperature you were sensing. One of Kaeya life's missions was to make you painfully aware that both your hands could melt an ice cube in under twenty seconds, so you're not too sure who's warm.

"...Is something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing." You laughed. "I was just thinking that you're such a green flag, that's all."

His grip tensed up and he looked the other way. Is it just you or is he getting warmer? Diluc ran his free hand through his hair. He looked frustrated.

"How can I get over you when you're like this?"

"Diluc...?"

"Forget the event," Diluc said, stopping you both from entering. "Let's just head to my place."

What?!

"Hah?!" Canceling plans is usually the best feeling on earth but in this instance, it left you absolutely baffled.

"Wait here, I'll just make a call."

"Hey, Diluc, wait–"

—-------

[Ten missed calls from "Ajax."]

[Received 1 voicemail.]

"Diluc, I had a chat with Venti's producer earlier. Is it true that you're the one who sent death threats to stop the 5wirl and ADDICKTZ collab? Kinda hard to believe you'd go through such lengths– and REAALLL low for you to drop a week's work on everyone, comrade!"

"I don't get what your motives are either... Is it because of (Y/n)? C'mon, we both know they wouldn't like you as much as the Dove likes Kazuha. I'm sorry but you HAVE to accept that. Even if you wiretap their house and obsess so much about them that opportunity is just not gonna hap–"

[Delete.]

[Calling Ajax…]

"Tartaglia."

"Well, well. That's not a good opener. Are you gonna get your ass over and help us out? The fuck is up with this paperwork– why are we even helping the CEO's assistant write reports?!"

"No, actually, I need your help with something…"

*sigh* "Motherfucker. Alright, spill. What do you want?"

"I don't want to hurt them– God, I can't imagine myself doing something like that when they look this pretty tonight. Ajax, I beg you, you're the only one that can help me with this. How can I knock someone unconscious without using blunt force?"

"..."

"... Diluc, holy shit, what on earth are you planning?"

Ansytea: huhu i hope your husband won't kill me– THANK YOU FOR JOINING THE 1K EVENT DOVE ANON!!! (This is still so surreal i cant believe i got permission to write abt you. most of us probably already know who this is anyways so dhjskwksoa happy 12k followers to you too!!!!)

#tag: yan!1k idol event #yandere diluc #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc ragnvindr #yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin fanfiction #yandere male #yandere fanfiction #🕊️ anon #ansy-writes

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