#or perhaps we walk among gods

[bigolbard]

I just finished a book that made me cry and then opened Spotify and it was like “here’s a song you might like sire” and the art was pretty so I listened to it and it perfectly encapsulated the sorrow and mood of the book and my soul in both its music and lyrics and idk maybe there are gods out there and maybe one of them is looking at me

[entitled-fangirl]

Lost.

Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader

Summary: the reader accompanies her brother and Cregan to the Wall to discuss an alliance. But the news of Luke's death causes turmoil among them.

Warnings: Blood, cursing, grief, death, miscarriage, Cregan fucking crying

A/n: based on this ask!

Masterlist

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She had to practically beg him.

"No. No, and you need to drop it," he said as he began to lace up his boots.

She whined and pulled herself from the bed, her hair a mess and still only in her shift, "Cregan."

Cregan let out a soft growl, "You dragons just don't see reason, do you?"

She smiled and neared him. Her hands rested over his, keeping him from lacing his boots. "I want time with my brother again. Is that so terrible?"

"It's a two week trip to the Wall."

"That's at least a month with him." She gripped his hands tighter, "Please, Cregan."

He sighed, "The prince will have plenty of time with you before and after. I won't have my wife and unborn child far from the maesters." He let out a forced laugh, "Or near the men of the Wall, for another matter."

"There are maesters there, Cregan. And we all know I am safest with you."

He stared at their connected hands for a while, a million thoughts ringing loudly in his head, but all unvoiced. 

"We still have a few months until the birth," she continued to reason. "And you know I grow cold at night when you're gone."

Cregan smiled up at her. He pulled his hand from hers to rest over her small swollen stomach. 

As much as he wanted to lock her away from the threats of the world, he knew doing so would hurt her more than letting her go.

He chewed at his lip. "If I let you," he began, "You will take no chances. On anything."

"None," She agreed. "Nothing at all." Her hand joined his on her stomach. "I'll stay by your side. I promise."

"Alright." 

…

"Ready to go?" Jace smiled as his sister neared. 

She grinned back as she took his arm, "I've been ready since I heard you were arriving, brother."

He chuckled lightly as the two began to walk to the stable, "Must I say, you practically glow like the sun nowadays."

She huffed, "Do not lie."

"I don't," he said. "There is more color to you."

"That is only the cold nipping at me and coloring my cheeks."

He laughed again, "Maybe so. But either way, You are a natural, my dear sister. A healthy boy is on the way, I know it."

"A boy?" She asked with raised brows. "Oh no, Cregan and I think it's a girl."

He hummed in thought, "No. It's not. I know these things."

She laughed and playfully hit his arm, "You know nothing of this!"

He grinned and shrugged, "All the same. You'd raise a wonderful boy-"

"-Or girl."

"-or girl. Either way, I shall be a very proud uncle."

"Oh, you must wed Baela soon brother, please."

"So eager?" He asked with a smile.

"Our children would be such wonderful friends." Her eyes lit up and she squeezed his arm, "Or such a beautiful betrothal! Think of it!"

Jace look away in thought, "Perhaps so. I hadn't considered that."

"Only," she began again. "I shall pray your boy does not inherit your unruly curls!" 

"Ah, you're the one having a boy first. I said so."

"Oh. So, you wish to have a girl, brother?"

He bit his lip, "If the gods wish it, then yes."

"You'd be wonderful to a daughter, Jace."

His brows furrowed, "Let us focus on the baby at hand, please. And get you to the stables before Cregan has my head."

…

Cregan helped her into the lift at the bottom of the wall, pulling her to him to make room for Jace. 

"I sent a letter to mother before we left," Jace began. "About the child. Luke, Joffrey, and I will choose a dragon egg and send it to you upon my return home."

Her eyes lit up, "Thank you. That was… That was very thoughtful."

Jace looked up to Cregan, who looked at Jace as if he was going to explode any second. 

A dragon? In Winterfell? Around his child? 

But he said nothing. 

"Do have Luke pick it." She finally said. "He has the best taste in such things."

Jace laughed lightly, "I will. But I will not tell him you said so. I can't have him getting prideful."

A silence fell over them as the lift brought them further and further up the wall.

"So, what is this that falls from the sky and shivers my bones?" Jace asked.

"This is only a late summer snow, my prince." Cregan finally spoke, "In winter, it will cover all you see."

"It's quite beautiful, Jace." She smiled, "If you have a warm cloak, that is."

…

Cregan and Jace walked together along the ice halls of the Wall, the Lady Stark behind, making her rounds around the men at work, thanking them, and chatting as she moved. 

"Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince." Cregan began, "But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between north and south. In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to king's landing. I need my men here." 

He looked behind him to his wife, who was in an intense conversation meters back, a hand resting on her stomach as she nodded along with the man that spoke.

"While your men guard against wildings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne." 

The two began to walk up to the outlook, Jace continued, "If my mother is to defend her claim to hold the realm united, she needs an army. War is coming to the whole of the realm, my lord." He looked out over the wall. "We cannot wage it without the support of the North."

Silence filled the air, save for the sound of the wind blowing loudly. 

"Do you think my ancestors built a 700-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?"

"What does it keep out."

"Death."

A man approached the two, "My lord, a raven's arrived. Urgent news from Dragonstone."

Y/n's head perked up, and she immediately excused herself from her conversation to go to her husband.

Cregan unraveled the note, his eyes flitting across the paper hurriedly, and a furrowing in his brows formed.

She moved to Jace and his arm wrapped around her side, pulling her to him. "Cregan," she said. "Is everything alright?"

He looked up at the two Velaryons.

Then held the paper out to Jace.

Cregan then reached out and took his wife from the man, having a new sense of needing her near him.

When Jace read the note and his hand covered his mouth, she became worried, "Jace?"

He didn't answer, but Cregan's grip on her tightened and one hand rested protectively over her swollen belly.

"Jace. Please."

"It's alright," Cregan whispered into her ear, "We're alright." He looked up to Jace, a silent plea to keep calm in front of her.

Jace's jaw clenched, but he forced himself to smile with gritted teeth, "Just a slight hiccup, dear sister."

He gripped the note with an iron grip, not caring of the tears or crinkles it could bring.

He shook his head and began to storm off.

"Jace…" "-It's fine!" He shouted. "Everything is just fine."

He stormed off before she could get it out of him.

She turned around in Cregan's grip, "My love. Please tell me what has happened."

He shook his head and brushed a piece of hair from her face, "No. You needn't worry about these things. It's bad for the babe."

"Cregan-"

“Please do not ask me to bring you torment, my girl,” Cregan said with a tilt of his head.

“Cregan, you torment me by keeping me in the shadows.”

“Trust me when I say, I am not.”

She pulled herself from his hands, “No. You do. Now, tell me.”

Cregan’s jaw tightened and his voice became stronger, “I won’t.”

“Speak the words, Cregan.”

He stared back.

“Say it.”

Silence.

Her voice grew desperate, “Say it.”

He simply stared, a slight tilt to his head.

“If you love me as your wife, you’ll not keep this from me.”

He immediately took a step and his voice lowered, “Do not use such words-“

She growled, “then fucking say it.”

He took steps to her, their faces not far, “You won’t hear it from me.”

“Then I will find it elsewhere," she sneered in his face.

She stormed off, Cregan left to stare over the wall.

He wanted to chase after her. Stop her and correct it all. But he just couldn’t.

This news changed everything.

…

She opened the door, finding Jace in the midst of a fit of rage, throwing his cup against the wall.

“Jace?”

He looked up at her, forcing himself to calm. She moved to him and held her arms out.

And he collapsed against her, weeping into her neck.

“Jace. Jace, it’s alright.” She cooed lightly to him.

“He’s gone. He’s gone and I wasn’t there.”

Gone? Who? 

Her mind began to race and her heart dropped.

Surely not Daemon. Jace wouldn’t weep as if his world crumbled.

Gods, Jace hadn’t wept at all since the day Ser Harwin died.

“Jace. Look at me.”

She pulled his face to look at him, “What happened?”

“I promise you, I’ll kill them all. I will.”

“Calm yourself, dear brother.”

“CALM MYSELF?” He roared and pulled back from her. “Our brother is dead and you tell me to calm myself?”

Hot tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffled lightly. 

A hand shot to her stomach.

“Luke?”

Jace brows immediately relaxed, “gods, you didn’t… Stark didn’t…”

“Luke is dead?” She whispered as a shaky hand covered her mouth.

“I didn’t mean to… please, come here.”

The two siblings embraced, Jace holding her tightly against him and brushing through her hair as she began to wail against him.

Her hands clutched at his cloak and it quickly became wet with her tears.

Cregan threw the door open and his entire body stiffened at the sight.

She turned her head against Jace’s chest. She spoke through broken hiccups, “Luke…”

Cregan’s eyes softened as he saw her puffy eyes, “I know.”

Jace tightened his hold, “Aemond hunted him down on his dragon.”

Cregan watched her eyes completely glaze over and her breath quickened.

She let out a low groan.

“Sister? Sister, please.”

She pulled away and a hand quickly moved to her stomach, her brows furrowed.

“Cregan…”

“Fuck…” Cregan immediately moved to her and pulled her into his arms. “My love, please steady yourself.”

A few more tears slipped from her eyes, “It hurts, Cregan.”

No.

No. No. No.

He gripped her biceps in an iron grip, “No. No, you’re alright.”

She shook her head, “No. I’m not.” She gritted her teeth and her eyes closed. “I’m not. Please.”

“My girl.” He cooed, “Let us sit you down.”

She gasped at a sudden feeling.

“Sister…” Jace took a step towards her.

“Please," She begged and held a hand out, stopping him. “I…”

A low and pained groan and her knees buckled.

Cregan caught her with ease, holding her up. “My prince. Bring me that chair.”

Jace moved immediately, pulling a wooden chair across the floor with a loud scrape.

Cregan lowered her into the chair, cringing at the whimper that left his wife’s mouth.

“Perhaps a maester…?” Jace asked.

“No-“

“-Yes,” Cregan nodded. “Yes. Please.”

“Cregan,” she cried. “I can’t. I can’t lose her-“

“-if we do not fetch the maester, then she will be.” Cregan’s eyes were set, as if challenging her to fight him on it.

“Fine. Fine, please.”

Jace quickly left in practically a sprint.

“It’s not your fault, you know.”

She turned to the Stark, “What?”

He looked like he was ready to cry. His bottom lip quivered, “if you do lose her.”

Her eyes saddened and her hand moved to his face, “I can’t.”

“You will, my love.” He forced a deep breath to hold back the tears and let out a breath, “She is gone now, I’m sure of it.”

If she wasn’t in pain enough, that multiplied it.

…

Four hours later, Jace and Cregan sat in the opposite end on the room, watching the maester work endlessly.

But they were silent. Their eyes were both fixed on the blood that stained everything.

She had fallen asleep long ago, from the pain or loss of blood, they weren’t sure.

But it gave their ears a break from her piercing cries that rang through the entirety of the Wall.

When the maester moved to the two men, they stood.

“My lord, my prince,” he began. “The Lady has lost much blood.”

“Will she live?” Cregan immediately asked.

“I…” he bit his lip. “She will, my lord, but…”

“That is all I need. You may go.”

“Lord Stark-“

“GO!” He growled.

The maester bowed his head and quickly left, pulling the door behind him.

Silence filled the room. Both men still stared at the poor woman who slept away the pain.

…

Jace had left not long after, wandering the halls of Castle Black in thought, so it was only Cregan in the room when she woke.

She let out a low groan, and he held her hand in his. "Lovely, how are you feeling?"

Her eyes studied him before a light sob racked through her.

He lightly kissed her knuckles, knowing that was the only comfort he could bring to her at the moment.

"I told you it wasn't your fault."

"But I…" She hiccuped and wiped her face with her free hand, "I pushed for you to tell me. I… I forced you to let me accompany you here."

"You did not do any of that," he reprimanded. "None of it."

Her eyes held a hollowed look to them, "I lost the future of Winterfell."

Her brows furrowed and his hand smoothed the hair from her forehead.

"A boy," she sniffled. "Would've been."

He felt a punch to his gut.

He'd seen battle before, but nothing caused him as much pain as this moment. 

He looked down at their intertwined hands, "It does not mean that all is lost, my girl."

"Then why does it feel like it?"

His eyes watered, and his nose scrunched in frustration. He wanted to curse as his bottom lip trembled for the second time today, "I don't know."

A single tear ran down the Wolf's face.

"But I promise you," He sniffled. Another tear down his face as he let out a soft breath, "You have not lost me."

"I couldn't give you an heir."

"And I do not know how to comfort you through it."

She pushed herself up and he shook his head, "No, you need to rest."

But she managed to sit herself up against the headrest.

Her hand brushed his cheek and he couldn't stop the tears that began to rush down his face.

"Oh, Cregan," she cooed.

His hand brought her other one up to his lips again, kissing her knuckles fervently this time, as if she would disappear if he didn't.

"Hey. Stop," she tilted her head. "Cregan. Stop."

His eyes looked to her through a blurry haze.

"It's not your fault either, you know." She finally said.

He forced a laugh and shook his head. "I fear I'd go mad without you, my girl."

"As I with you."

The two managed to catch their breath in the silence that followed, a promise that things would get better if they only let it.

He leaned forward to her, gently connecting their lips. 

She let out a whine, accepting his kiss eagerly. 

His hand moved to the back of her head, pulling her to him. He hardly cared about the salty taste of the tears on their lips.

He pulled away first.

"I'll promise our graybeards to the queen," Cregan stated as he sat back down.

She huffed, "Don't pity me and feel as if you must defend-"

His grip tightened on her hand, "I will have the head of that boy on a fucking spike." Cregan growled.

"He did not lose our child, I did!" She said with a raised voice.

His jaw clenched as his eyes bore into hers, "Aemond Targaryen lost the war the second he chased your brother with Vhagar. The graybeards will march when the time is right. In exchange for Aemond's head by the time the war is done."

"Cregan-"

"-He is why our son is dead. And the North will remember that."

She looked down to her stomach, rubbing a hand over what used to be there only hours before.

Cregan Stark's gaze became more rigid than the ice around them. 

"Winter is coming for the Greens."

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A/n: Okay, hey, now that you're depressed from this fic, let's talk. I'm making a Cregan Stark tag list! Let me know if you want on it!

[bamfkeeper]

Kurt's instincts are still flaring...you know just how to help. 18+ under the cut. MDNI.

Sorta unofficial part two to my last Nightcrawler fic. That was originally going to be nsfw, but I decided against it because I have other nsfw pieces in the works. So this is sort of the smut version of that one. I'm glad I'm not the only one who wants to grab his horns.

Warnings: Afab reader, cunnilingus, unprotected, slightly rougher sex, marking, slight cum play? Unedited.

WC: 2.4k

Kurt had been quiet for a while.

After he had let out the 'darkness' within him, he just didn't feel like himself anymore. He was constantly battling his own mind, his very being, and it was utterly exhausting. Every day felt like a struggle that required all his energy. His mind flashed with the bodies of the fallen soldiers he had killed, their lifeless forms haunting his thoughts, and he often had trouble resting after those vivid, torturous memories resurfaced.

You tried your best to help him, to reassure and comfort him in every way you could think of, but you could only do so much for him. Despite all your efforts, some things couldn't be healed with mere reassurance. The act was done, and the scar was made, etched deeply into his soul. The emotional wounds were too profound, and words of comfort could only provide temporary relief from the pain he endured.

This was when he began to think...maybe it was better to let the darkness out. The pain of it all lessened when he did.

You were sitting with him in the privacy of your bedroom, where the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue on everything. He sat behind you, his presence comforting as he leaned into your smaller form, providing a sense of security and closeness that you both cherished. He let out a quiet sigh, a sound so simple and quiet spoke volumes about the weight of his thoughts and the whirlwind of events that had been unfolding around him.

You noticed his somber mood and the lines of worry etched on his face, so you decided that perhaps a nap would help to relax him and ease his troubled mind. Sleep, you thought, was a temporary escape from reality, a gentle reprieve that could offer solace. You knew that it would at least give him a brief rest from his racing mind, a momentary pause in the chaos, allowing him to regain some peace and composure.

"I'm going to change real quick, I think we should take a nap. The afternoon has been quiet." You sat up a little and stood from the bed, slowly undressing and walking over to the closet. His golden eyes glued to your figure and he growled softly, the sound escaping his throat without him realizing it.

You were so engrossed in finding your favorite silk top among the myriad of clothes that you didn't notice his approach at all. Kurt was incredibly sneaky and had perfected the art of moving silently. He had learned to have a light foot during his years in the circus, where he would often sneak around in the dead of night, scavenging for scraps and bits of food. He had to be extremely careful not to wake the slumbering animals or disturb the watchful owner. The skills he honed in the circus allowed him to move like a shadow, almost undetectable.

It wasn't until he was directly behind you that you became aware of his presence. You felt his breath on your neck, startling you. His breath was hot and heavy, and you could feel it against your skin. His lips were slightly parted as if he was about to speak, but instead, he let out a deep, primal growl that sent shivers down your spine.

You turned to look up at him, his golden eyes shining dimly in the room as he grabbed hold of your hips. "Liebe..." he nearly snarled at you, his body trembled with screaming desire. He didn't want to hurt you, oh god, he didn't want to hurt you. But you looked so vulnerable right now, topless and the only protection from being completely nude was the thin layer of fabric you wore over your sex.

He knelt down slowly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of confusion and vulnerability. "I cannot explain what is happening..." he whispered quietly, his voice barely audible. The weight of his words hung in the air, creating a tense silence between you both. After a pause, you found the courage to speak up, breaking the stillness.

"Bad thoughts?" you asked gently, trying to understand what he was going through.

"Nein...good ones. With you...but...they are more intense than they ever have been," he whispered with a shaky voice, his emotions clearly overwhelming him. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the conflict between his feelings and the inability to comprehend them fully. You could tell he was having trouble saying it, so you sat back and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Show me what you mean." Your words and smile was all he needed to continue. His hands rubbed up your bare thighs and he ripped off your panties. The sudden tearing against your skin burned slightly, however you weren't given a moment to register the burn before his lips wrapped around the area. He kissed and suckled harsh marks where your skin was irritated from the fabric ripping. You moaned softly, your hand running through his curly locks and you watched him kiss and soothe the areas whilst leaving dark hickeys around your hips where your panties would sit.

He growled and bit the area below your belly button, that delicious, plush area that he loved so much, he kneaded and nipped it with his teeth while leaving a trail of purple marks in his wake. You watched as he marked you up, more and more started appearing on your skin and you couldn't help but moan with each one he planted.

"I cannot help myself any longer...these thoughts, I feel like they are consuming me." he rasped against your bruised skin, his yellow eyes almost looked more orange now, half lidded and heavy with lust in them. "I do not want to hurt you..." he muttered, his gaze traveling down further as he looked at your exposed sex.

He pressed his nose against your folds, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent, your obvious arousal filled his senses and his eyes shot back open. Claws held your plush hips, spreading your legs.

"Kurt..." you whispered, your words losing themselves behind the surprised groan that tore through you, his tongue lapped a strip up your slit as he trailed to your clit. His lips wrapped around your bud and he sucked hard on it. "Oh, god..." your voice wavered as your hands naturally went to his hair.

Your hands felt his curls, those dark locks that you adored, you curled your fingers around them and felt his silky hair when you felt his horns. You couldn't help but gently wrap your fingers around the horns and feel them a little more. You hadn't actually touched them much before, he didn't want you to. But now he didn't seem to care, too busy devouring your core and making your legs tremble.

Your hands gripped his horns, and his eyes widened. He clawed your hips, lifting you off the ground and diving further into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside as he ate you out. His tongue moved so expertly, dipping inside your wet hole and dragging your hot arousal up and over that pretty clit of yours.

His vigorous laps and suckles increased as you drug his head closer by his horns, panting and mewling like a poor bitch in heat. His claws held you tightly, growling against your slick sex as he pulled you away from the wall and threw you down on the bed.

Kurt crawled over you, looking more wild than you had ever seen. He drooled as he forced your legs open, his claws gently digging into the plush flesh of your thighs, and he dove back down, completely encompassed in your cunt and entranced by it. Your hands went to his horns again, groaning as he soaked your pussy with his saliva and eager tongue lashing.

You could barely hold back the cry as your orgasm hit you. It was intense, and your back arched off the bed, your hands gripped his horns in a vice and you tugged him even closer if that were possible. "Kurt!! Aah!" You stuttered out some rambling words about your climax, unable to get out a solid sentence. He could tell you came, your cunt soaked the sheets and his tongue, such the eager mutant he was lapped all of your up as you creamed for him.

He pulled back, strings of your cum and his saliva keeping him attached to you before breaking off. His goatee completely soaked, and his eyes dark with desire. "Worn out already, schatz?" Kurt's voice was almost deeper than normal, making your spine stiffen. "I'm not done with you...I...need...more." he grunted, his eyes closing briefly like he were at conflict with himself.

You sat up slightly, noticing this change in his demeanor. "Hey...I-I'm okay, just intense, is all..." you reassured him quietly, trying to offer some comfort and support. "I'm good...do you need to let it out?" you asked, your voice gentle and encouraging.

He nodded vigorously, clearly agreeing with you, but it was evident that he was still holding back his emotions. There was a tension in his expression, a struggle to contain whatever he was feeling inside. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his body was tense despite his nodding. It was clear that he needed to release whatever was weighing on him, but something was stopping him from doing so.

He was deeply scared of hurting you, a fear that gnawed at him constantly. He hadn't been so... forward... like this before, and the unfamiliarity of the situation only added to his anxiety. But he couldn't help it. Something primal and intense inside him screamed, clawing at his very skin, urging him to pounce on you.

This internal battle was relentless, and he found himself struggling more each day to keep it at bay, and you had noticed. Despite his best efforts to contain himself, the urge grew stronger and more overpowering with every passing moment. He looked down at you, how your breasts rose and fell with each breath, your pussy ingrained in his nose, that beautiful scent of your arousal...

He couldn't do it anymore.

Kurt crawled over you, his hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you closer, his now unclothed cock hitting your pussy and he rubbed himself eagerly against you, slickening his shaft so the penetration would be easier on the both of you. However, his foreplay didn't last long, his body too eager and impatient now.

His hips jut forward, his cock sinking inside you in one swift thrust. You cried out in surprise, but he didn't give you a moment of reprieve before he began to thrust hard and fast.

He curled over you, his arms holding your hips up as his cock dove in and out of your cunt, his tail tightened around your body, expertly wrapping around those pretty breasts he loved. "Mine..." he growled deeply, his voice resonating with a possessive intensity. The word was almost lost within the animalistic snarl that erupted from his throat, a primal sound that echoed through the room.

You couldn't do anything but whine and let out mindless babbling as he fucked you into the mattress. You could barely think, the way he was fucking you drove you crazy and you could do nothing but watch him pound into you. He had never been this intense before, and you weren't complaining, of course. His new passion and possessiveness awakened something deep inside you, bringing a desperate mix of arousal and pure need.

"I-I'm going to...cum again..." you managed through your moans, his cock driving against your cervix, most definitely bruised by now, his precum coating it in a soothing balm. It was making you feel more eager for his cum, more addicted to how good he made you feel. You began to want his cock in you constantly, like his precum was some sort of aphrodisiac to your body's own primal instincts.

"Do it, liebling...I want you all over me...let me feel your pleasure." He snarled into your ear, his thrusts quickened as his mischevious tail spade slithered down and rubbed your swollen bud. You watched as he threw your legs over his shoulders and moved over you more, driving down into you over and over until your body felt like it exploded.

You screamed in pure ecstasy, your swollen sex clung to him and practically milked his cock as you creamed all over his dick. He bared his fangs and sunk them into you neck as he shot his load into you, his hips snapping forward once more and driving himself as far as he could possibly go. His cock's spongy head pressed a kiss to your cervix and shot directly into your womb.

Kurt held you tight for several minutes, the both of you a panting, sweaty mess. When he finally let go of you, he pulled out of your warm cunt, hissing slightly at the cruel harshness of the bedroom air. It didn't compare to your comforting, velvet walls. He grumbled in disappointment, still foggy with those desires and not completely himself just yet. You could see it in his eyes, the confusion as he wasn't all there.

You sighed, feeling his cum begin to pool out onto the bed and you whined, you always tried to prevent that. Your hand reached up, scratching his scalp before you gripped one of his horns, tugging him down. "Baby...look what you did...I'm a mess." Your voice whined gently, "See?"

You spread your cunt, letting him see how his cum was absolutely everywhere between your legs. His dark eyes completely focused on your core as he let out deep, yet sharp breaths. Your hand, still holding one of his horns, guided his head down to your pussy. "Clean me up...won't you? It's only fair..."

Kurt's eyes glanced up before he bit your inner thigh, licking up your skin before he dove right back into you, his tongue cleaning all of himself from you...and some. But this only started the cycle all over again...and soon he was on top of you. Even still...there was nothing to complain about.

When his little rut was over, he curled around you, your body a trembling mess and you were full of so many loads of his cum you forgot to count. At one point he didn't even stop thrusting, he just kept going until he physically couldn't anymore. He laid with his body gently wrapped around yours, holding you close with a tenderness that contrasted his previous fucking. His face was buried in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent that filled his senses with pure bliss.

In that moment, he was completely content. The loud, uncomfortable scratching at his soul, which had been a new torment to him since his horns appeared, was now gone. It had been quieted down and soothed by the mere presence of you, your warmth, and the tranquility you brought to his life.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Sins of Sinister: Dominion 001 (2023); Immortal X-Men #9 (2023); Legion of X #7 (2023)

If you want to be part of my tag list, please leave a 💙.

[yuelun]

Tag drop #2: Character things and dynamics (more will be added).

[the-traveling-poet]

Fuck it. I’ll finally cave a little bit. Besides, we hit 700 followers!!💛

Dirty minded Levi Ackerman fantasizing about the ways he wants to fuck you because I’m beyond stressed out lately and ovulating like a slut.

Themes mentioned below: Levi lusting after gn!reader. oral, handjobs, unprotected, choking, cum eating, dom!Levi, breeding

NSFW themes below the cut. Minors do not interact or you will be blocked!! ⚠️

Of course he would look impassive, observant in an absentminded manner with a hand propped against his chin as he leaned against his desk. Unapproachable might have been the right word to describe his outward appearance on any given day.

Internally, however, how could he focus on a single thought today?

Hours. Hours he had spent attempting to avert his gaze, less he be labeled some perv by his peers. But always his gaze wandered back to the sight he so longed to stare at all day, to the person he wished he could wake up and see every morning in his bed, wrecked and tantalizing among the ruined sheets.

He found it hard to fully focus on you on a normal day, given the allure to him you always had held, but the moment you walked out in that little number…It was your day off, you could choose to live it how you saw best. Of course you could, prancing about the halls in that damned low cut dress just within his line of sight, blissful of his hard stare and tensing thighs…

No, of course he couldn't think straight enough to even label the color of the fabric you wore; just the way it hung off your figure in such a dainty yet provocative way.

How it rippled against the soft breeze should you stand just right, the nearly silken garment hugging your curves and contours deliciously in a way that made his thoughts blurry and his face heated, how easily tearable that dress could be if he only stood and snaked a hand up your thigh near the seam.

You were a skilled soldier, that much he’d always seen. Of course you would have a healthy build. But had he ever truly taken note of your figure? Until this moment, he wasn’t sure he had.

Such a shame, too…Then again, when had they ever worn this before?

Your ankles, your calves, a hint of your thighs poking through so teasingly, as though daring him to march over and grasp the supple flesh in his rough palms and lift you up by them to the nearest wall and fuck you senseless and breathless. Till you were a moaning mess only capable of whimpering his name like a broken prayer. Hell, he wouldn’t mind keeping the dress on just to tear it up and bunch it at your hips to drive into you over and over again.

My god, what must I do to get under that dress and breed you-

Where the collar of your uniform usually concealed skin from showing, same as everyone wore in any of the regimes, the column of your neck and the curve of your collarbones now stood out to him like a beacon. Oh, what he wouldn’t do, if given the chance to mark those up nice and dark, maybe restrict your breath with a hand pinning you down nice and snug-

“Captain?” You’d called, shaking him from his fantasy; not without a flustered scoff of disgruntlement.

Would they sound so innocent in tone on my desk spread out before me, devouring their soaked folds like a man starved with fingers crooked pulling in and out over and again, stuffing them full to prepare them for my cock?

“What, Y/N,” he droned instead, far too caught up in his many fantasies to bother with formality. God, your name felt so good on his tongue. He wondered briefly, what else might you have to offer that would taste as good as it felt? Perhaps the arousal dripping down your supple thighs might taste better than even your name-

“You skipped dinner; again.”

You could be my dinner, savory and sweet. I’d never hunger again, quenching my thirst between your quivering thighs, licking your drooling cunt clean just to mess you all up all over again-

“…So I brought you some tea! I hope I got it right,” you’d ramble on a moment, unaware of the color paling from his knuckles the firmer he gripped the armrest of his chair.

“It may not be as filling as a meal, but-“

“Tea’s fine,” Levi rasped out, dragging his gaze from the lowered neckline of your top to meet your eye. Such a mistake, with eyes as captivating as yours. Disscreetly, of course, he adjusted how he sat to reposition that ever present throbbing ache still tenting his uniform pants and reached out to accept the cup you so freely offered him on the other side of the wooden desk. He couldn’t recall a time even within his teenage years he’s been so horny for another, so desperate to take them in a moment’s notice and rip orgasm after orgasm from their spent form in his hands, fucking them underneath himself.

The light brush of your fingertips against his hand was enough to painfully remind him why he’d had to move; such soft hands, though he knew how strong a grip you could have. He’d trained alongside you, after all. He’d seen how easily you could keep a hold.

Just your hand wrapped around my cock, I would lose all sense of myself, I’m sure. If the reality could work me up half as much as the mere thought alone, I could only imagine I’d cum in seconds.

“…Thanks. Y/N,” Levi murmured, eyes down on the rim of his cup after he set it down. Lord, he needed a cold shower. Or maybe just a helping hand…

Fuck it.

“Take a seat. Why don’t you stay awhile, Y/N. We need to have a chat.”

Taglist/ @21aurora @humanitys-strongest-brat @pelicanpizza @levispersonalslave couldn’t tag the full taglist since I couldn’t find an age in the blogs, but if you’d like to be added to my taglist for Levi Ackerman content (99.9% sfw fluff) just DM me! :3

[targtowerxstark]

The Festival of the First Snow.

Cregan Stark X Targaryen reader

•Cregan and his wife prepare for the Festival of the first snow. During the festival the sneak off to the Gods wood.

•Wife is referred to as y/n. Small description of her. Targaryen features.One mention of being petite.

♡

Cregan Stark leaned back in his chair, the crackling fire in his study casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The scent of burning wood mingled with the faint aroma of parchment and ink, creating a comforting atmosphere as he reviewed the plans for the upcoming Winter Festivals. The Festival of the First snow was to take place in a matter of days, marking the onset of winter. His brow furrowed in concentration, but a soft laugh broke his focus.

“Cregan, you look as if you’re preparing for a battle rather than a celebration,” y/n , his wife, teased, her voice light and melodic. She stood by the window, her silver hair catching the firelight, framing her face like a halo.

Cregan smiled, his heart warming at the sight of her. “Perhaps I am. The Northmen can be a rowdy lot after too much drink. I must ensure we have enough mead to keep them merry and not too rowdy.”

She turned to him, her violet eyes sparkling with mischief. “And what of the women? They deserve to be entertained as well. We should plan games for the children and stories for the ladies. Perhaps a dance beneath the stars?”

“Dance?” Cregan echoed, his voice low and teasing. “You know I have two left feet, y/n”. I’d sooner wrestle a direwolf than dance.”

She laughed, the sound brightening the room. “Then I shall teach you, my wolf. We will make it a night to remember.”

As they discussed their plans, y/n moved closer, her presence filling the space with warmth. They spoke of the traditions of the festival’s—the feasting, the storytelling, the games, and the honoring of the Old Gods. Each idea sparked excitement between them, weaving their hearts closer like the intricate patterns of the tapestries that adorned Winterfell’s walls.

The next night, the great hall of Winterfell was adorned with evergreens and flickering candles, casting a warm glow over the long wooden tables. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filled the air, and laughter echoed as the Northmen gathered, their spirits high. Cregan, ever the young wolf, sat among the men, sharing tales of bravery and adventure, his voice strong and commanding.

y/n, sat across the hall with the women, radiating beauty in a deep sapphire gown that hugged her figure perfectly, the fabric shimmering like the stars. Cregan’s breath caught as he caught sight of her, his heart racing like the thundering hooves of a charging wolf. Their eyes met across the hall, and in that moment, the noise of the festival faded into the background.

He admired the way her laughter danced in the air, how her eyes sparkled with mischief, and how she moved with grace. Cregan felt a warmth spread through him, a primal need to be near her, to claim her as his own. The way she tilted her head and smiled made him forget the stories he was telling, and he found himself lost in thoughts of her.

As the night wore on, a group of men began to share a particularly wild story of a hunt gone wrong, their voices rising in excitement. “And there we were, facing down a bear as big as a horse!” one man boasted, his arms gesturing wildly. The hall erupted in laughter, but Cregan’s attention was divided. He caught his wife’s gaze again, and she raised her cup, a playful smile on her lips.

Time slipped away, and many looks were passed between the pair, and soon the feast began to wind down. y/n stood to leave, her dress flowing behind her like a whisper of the wind. As she walked towards the doors, she glanced back, locking eyes with Cregan once more. He couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed and her dress hugged her waist enhancing her figure. He needed her. He felt like a wolf during a full moon, drawn to her, filled with a longing that was both fierce and gentle. He wasn’t used to these feelings that consumed him whenever she was near but he knew it was love.

As soon as she exited the hall, Cregan rose, his instincts guiding him. He followed her out, careful to avoid the prying eyes of the other guests. He saw her slip into the Godswood, the ancient trees standing sentinel around her.

Cregan stealthily moved through the dense underbrush of the God’s Woods, the moonlight filtering through the branches above, casting a silver glow that danced across the forest floor. His heart raced, not from the thrill of the chase but from the intoxicating presence of her. She moved like a whisper among the trees, a vision that stirred something primal within him. He craved her like a wolf starved, every instinct urging him to close the distance between them.

As she reached a clearing, y/n settled onto a wooden stump by the water's edge, her silhouette framed by the shimmering reflections of the moon. Cregan paused, taking in the sight of her—such a petite, perfect thing, yet she had such power over him. He stepped forward, a playful smirk crossing his lips. "You know, it’s dangerous to wander these woods alone. What if a hungry wolf were to come along?"

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, I’d just have to show that wolf who’s really in charge, wouldn’t I?" Her playful tone sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a fire of desire within him. Cregan couldn't help but chuckle, his cockiness shining through. "I’d like to see you try. But I must warn you, I don’t play fair."

The chase was on. She stood up, a teasing smile on her lips as she darted away, her laughter echoing through the trees. Cregan was quick to follow, weaving through the trunks, his heart pounding not just from exertion but from the thrill of the pursuit. He relished the game, the way her energy electrified the air around them. "Catch me if you can!" she called out, glancing back at him with a playful challenge.

With each step, he felt the desperation growing within him—he needed to catch her, to claim this moment. Finally, he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her waist just as she reached another clearing. She squealed in surprise, and he spun her around, their faces inches apart. "Got you," he breathed, his voice low and teasing.

y/n’s eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and delight. "You think you’ve won, don’t you? But this isn’t over yet." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, time stood still. Cregan's heart raced, the playful banter giving way to something deeper, more desperate. "Oh, I’m counting on it," he replied, his voice thick with longing, as he leaned in, ready to savor the taste of victory.

With a soft smile, she leaned in, and their lips met in a slow yet passionate kiss that quickly ignited into something more fervent. Cregan's hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened, filled with desperation and longing. Her hands were wrapped up in his hair pulling slightly. He lifted her up in one swift movement and she wrapped her legs around him. He pushed her up against the Weirwood tree so that the Gods could witness the love he would make to his wife. The world around them faded away, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves and their hearts beating in unison. In that sacred space, they were lost in each other, wrapped up in the intoxicating warmth of their love….

[utilitycaster]

An ongoing theme, with regards to the gods (as opposed to Predathos and the Imperium) is that of free will. The gods are stringent in collecting on promises made, and the Betrayers will use initial consent as license to act freely, but it’s notable, in a campaign where nearly all the main player characters are shaped by entities that never once gave them a choice, the gods require an invitation. Except, worryingly, Predathos, a being of nigh-divine powers who does not seem bound by this limitation. And, of course, mortals can do as they will.

When Lolth overtakes Opal, the fact that Opal assumed both the crown, and the title of champion, willingly, is repeatedly mentioned, in DM narration and by Lolth herself. Lolth also mentions to Dorian, (perhaps untruthfully, though the events of EXU indicate this might be genuine), that she wished for him to become her champion instead - but he did not put on the crown, so she can’t have him. Obviously, Lolth takes many liberties with Opal once given entry, but she can only speak to people or act through someone who has permitted her. We see this too with Asmodeus: it is ultimately Zerxus’s choice not to walk away and face his death, but make good on his pact; some degree of initial consent is needed. K’nauth and Judicators are also both explicitly described as voluntary: once permission is given, they are bound, but this is no different than the contracts of warlocks and notably, with the gods, while we’ve seen them make deals under dire straits, we’ve never seen such unwitting participants in their pacts as Fjord with Uk’otoa or Laudna with Delilah among the gods. All entered in control of their faculties, to our knowledge, though not necessarily with the full knowledge of what it entailed.

The Prime Deities are differentiated from the Betrayers in that they continue to provide free will to their champions and their faithful. The Raven Queen accepts Vax’s trade of his life for Vex’s, given without any direct communication from her, but she quickly does begin to communicate clearly; when Vax communes with her in Duskmeadow, she tells him what she wishes, putting him much more at ease. Later, after his death, she gives him an option to either remain dead, or to have a little more time left with Keyleth, Vex, and the others of Vox Machina before he completes his task and returns to her, and he makes a choice. When Morrighan asks for guidance, the Raven Queen’s response is to ask “why are you fighting, and what are you fighting for?” and stresses that she wishes to lay out the exact terms before Morrighan agrees to anything. When Percy asks her what to do she, ironically enough for a goddess of fate, tells him he possesses the capacity to do great things of his own accord. All of Vox Machina’s divine favors come willingly, only after a conversation; the Wildmother first reaches out to Fjord before he decides to accept. And mortals have the capacity to resist even these promises; Opal is only partially successful but she does not give the Spider Queen two deaths and she does not leave alone. Fy’ra Rai finds herself able to go against Lolth’s wishes even when the Wildmother does not wish to intervene; it is her choice not to kill Opal but to go with her.

When mortals express doubt in the gods, it’s typically not their actions. It’s because they don’t think they meddle in the matters of mortals enough. As mentioned, Percy struggles with the open-ended nature of the Raven Queen’s advice. Essek, frequently considered an “anti-god” character is actually quite mild in his doubt and ultimately more frustrated at the clerics of the Kryn Dynasty than the Luxon itself (put a pin in that). Ludinus Da’leth states the gods should have prevented the Calamity, despite us knowing that the Prime Deities avoided intervention and that ultimately, while the Calamity had a number of causes, mortals (Vespin, Laerryn, much of the city of Avalir) were at the root. Ashton and Imogen’s frustrations with the gods have both ultimately been that they asked for assistance and did not receive it.

The extension of the Prime Deities’ belief in the free will of mortals is sufficiently strong that even during the Age of Arcanum, when many mortals rejected them, and when they did not require mortal intermediaries, they still chose to preserve it until the Calamity began. Each major action by the gods as a group is ultimately one to preserve themselves (the sealing of Predathos; the destruction of Aeor; the current campaign’s truce) or to preserve mortals (the Primes during the Schism and in creating the Divine Gate).

Contrast this with Delilah, who seizes control of Laudna and who is never stated to have asked permission for any of her actions. Compare to FCG, designed by Aeorians to lose control and kill. Compare to Chetney, bitten by a werewolf in the wilderness (and the others of the Gorgynei as well) - indeed, what control he has is the legacy of magic granted by the Raven Queen and by a nature spirit tied to the Wildmother. Contrast this now with Predathos, whose Ruidusborn had no say in this connection and indeed, many are motivated in service to Predathos with the goal of freeing themselves. Enforcers within the Kreveris Imperium refer to themselves as The Will, and Elder Barthie refers to those who oppose them as being made “pliable”. Chetney’s loss of control under Ruidus is deliberately triggered by the Weave Mind, with whom he made no deal.

If we (in my opinion, rightfully) reject any argument that denies the right of sentient entities to self-preservation, we are left with the following accusations of the gods: failing to stop wrongdoing by mortals (both in their name and unrelated); and acting in accordance with pre-existing agreements. The latter we can also reject; it is not perhaps kind of the gods to hold people to their contracts, but this is not unique to them and as discussed extensively above, they do require that, at least initially, the promise be made willingly.

The former, unfortunately, will not be stopped by destroying the gods. Ultimately, such people as Tuldus, Bor’Dor, and the people of Hearthdell were oppressed by their fellow mortals. In-world, we have seen zealotry in the name not just of the Prime Deities but that of countless lesser ones, notably Uk’otoa; if only the Prime and Betrayer gods are at stake, this simply creates a power vacuum to be filled by other entities vastly more powerful than mortals. On the other hand, should all power-granting entities be devoured, setting aside the upheaval this will cause in society, this leaves no shortage of room for oppression on the basis of race or political affiliation, both of which we’ve seen. The Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting’s original incarnation, prior to the further development of Wildemount for Campaign 2, even stated the Dwendalian Empire forbade all religion and was still an authoritarian one. Colonization is the end goal of the Weave Mind and indeed the motivation for killing the gods per Edmuda. It also is not unheard of on Exandria for reasons not attributed to religion, notably the settling of the Menagerie Coast by Marquesians, and Tal’Dorei (formerly Gwessar) by human settlers from Issylra. And, of course, as we know in our real world, you do not need provable deities for religion to develop nor for colonization and oppression. Mortals do these things in reality and Exandria, whether or not the gods exist, and destroying the gods in Exandria achieves no prevention, only carnage.

Returning, finally, to Essek: when we look at the major characters who are PCs or are aligned with them who have expressed frustration with the gods, the only one who has much of a case for being influenced by the actions of a deity is Percy, who is staunchly on the side against Predathos. One could split hairs and note that Vecna was not a deity at the time of the murder of Percy’s family, his own torture, and the destruction and occupation of Whitestone, but rather merely a power-hungry wizard extending his lifespan via unscrupulous means, but Percy’s own choices render this moot. Meanwhile, the gods simply did not alleviate Imogen and Ashton’s experiences, both of which were in part due to powers caused by entities the gods, in fact, failed to sufficiently destroy (Predathos and Ka’Mort specifically) and mostly perpetuated by mortals reacting to Imogen’s abilities or Ashton finding themself orphaned on the outskirts of a notoriously rough city and later, caught as the fall guy in a failed heist by a morally questionable wealthy collector.

It is my belief that Keyleth’s anger is, on some level, extended towards someone who can’t respond nor change and who she feels she cannot be angry at, and that is Vax. Vax made the deal and the Raven Queen collected; Vax decided to take the Raven Queen’s second offer. He was forced into neither, and as discussed later, he likely would have responded poorly to a True Resurrection attempt given his faith. Vax is dead because of Vecna, but neutralizing Vecna didn’t fix it. I think Dorian’s anger at Lolth meanwhile is valid, but it’s also something I’d imagine he feels he cannot direct towards Opal, even though her actions are a part of it. And I’m sure both Keyleth and Dorian blame themselves, to an extent, whether or not that is rightful. The gods make just as convenient a scapegoat for those hurt by mortals as they do an excuse for cruelty.  But I don’t think killing them will bring back Vax, and certainly not Cyrus. Much as Derrig and Will and four other Ashari lie permanently dead at the hands of Otohan Thull despite her demise, and Orym’s trauma remains, killing the gods will not undo what happened to Imogen or Ashton. And since their main crime is considered to be inaction, killing them does not end suffering (and, indeed, should we dig into the infrastructures of Exandrian society and cosmology, may very well drastically increase it). It merely confirms that no one will receive their favor rather than only some; a bringing everyone down to your misery rather than striving to elevate all. An apt, if slightly tongue-in-cheek comparison to the real world is the fact that the cause of student loan forgiveness has been hamstrung and neutered by people furious that, since they didn’t receive help, no one else should - it is a self-centered and retaliatory mentality to lash out so far in jealousy that one would willingly destroy the life of another with the goal of increasing universal suffering.

Sources:

Timestamps available upon request but here are the episodes I’m drawing from. Printed works include pages.

Lolth, Opal, and Dorian: see 3x92-93; see also EXU Prime episode 8, EXU Kymal episode 2 for Opal willingly accepting and EXU Prime episodes 5 and 7 for the Spider Queen trying to get Dorian to put on the circlet.

K’nauth: EXU Calamity episode 2

Asmodeus and Zerxus: EXU Calamity episode 4

Judicators: 3x43

The Raven Queen and Vax: notably 1x44 (initial deal), 1x57 (Duskmeadow communion), 1x103 (her offering him the choice to pass or to become a revenant). Percy is also in 1x57.

The Raven Queen and Morrighan: 3x93.

Vox Machina’s divine favors: 1x104-1x106

Fjord and the Wildmother: 2x65; powers granted in 2x76.

Fy’ra and the Wildmother: 3x93

Essek’s feelings: see the final portion of this excellent post from essektheyless

Ludinus on the gods: 3x45

For causes of the Calamity, see EXU Calamity in its entirety, but Vespin specifically is episode 4, many of Avalir’s actions (including ignoring the hall of prophecy) are episode 2, and Laerryn denying the Arboreal Calix needed energy and casting Blight are in episode 3).

Ashton on the gods: 3x65

Imogen on the gods: 3x79

See page 12 of The Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount regarding the Prime Deities’ choice not to enforce their will during the Age of Arcanum.

Sealing of Predathos: 3x43; destruction of Aeor: EGTW 121; Truce mentioned in 3x67 and has appeared in 3x89 (Vezoden) and 3x92-93 (The Wildmother and Lolth).

Schism: EGTW 12; Divine Gate EGTW 13-14.

Delilah seizing control: 3x23

FCG’s design: 3x32 and 3x45

Chetney and Gorgynei (history and control): 3x40-41

Weave Mind control of Chetney: 3x91

Goals of Ruidusborn: multiple but see 3x48 and 3x89, 3x92 for a strong example with Liliana.

Imperium practices: 3x84

Tuldus: 3x44. Bor’Dor: 3x63. Hearthdell: 3x60-61.

Actions of Uk’otoa: much of Campaign 2 but notably 2x98 and The Mighty Nein Reunited.

Original description of the Dwendalian Empire: Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting (not Reborn) page 99

Goals of the Weave Mind: 3x85

Colonization of the Menagerie Coast: EGTW 17 (largely a peaceful one); Colonization of Tal’Dorei: Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting Reborn page 18 (explicitly stated to be against the wishes of the elves; led in part to the rule of Drassig and Scattered War).

Percy and Vecna: Vecna ascends in 1x106; the events of the Whitestone Occupation begin prior to campaign 1. Percy is in multiple war councils against the Vanguard and notably appears in the plans for a distraction to allow Bells Hells to take the Bloody Bridge in 3x81.

Imogen and Predathos: the revelation that Predathos may be within exaltants comes in 3x92; 3x83 and 3x87 both have involuntary experiences due to Predathos and see Liliana’s arguments in 3x48 as well as Imogen’s discussion of Gelvaan.

Ashton and Ka’Mort: emotional fallout most notably in 3x78; Evontra’vir’s description of what happened with the shard in 3x74. Memories of the Hexum Manor heist can be seen in 3x35.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

nymph. [part 3] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you. but everything has changed.

Warnings:  fluff, talks about slavery and territorial expansion, mythological figures treated in a simple way

A/N: My dears. I have to admit that I am proud of what I have done so far writing this series. Wow, a series! What was supposed to be just something short has now another chapter and I think there will be a few more. Please forgive me that not much is happening here. I wanted to introduce our characters to a new environment, it took me a while. I hope you will be understanding and gentle with me. Thank you for your wonderful reaction when I announced writing another chapter. It was really encouraging. I send you all my love.

I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph [masterlist]

Rome was dazzling. All the buildings, temples and roads, palaces and squares were full of its inhabitants. And Marcus, welcomed in this center of the world as equal to the gods. 

The victories he brought with him and laid at the feet of the Emperor, earned him the recognition and love of the people. The empire grew in strength and power, thanks to General Acacius. 

And then there was you. 

Marcus made sure you were transported by his most trusted men to his home. He didn't want you to be in the palace, not yet.

The whispers of envious people, the jealousy and treachery, he didn't want to expose you to that. But there was something else. Something he was afraid of, but he didn't tell you about it.

Marcus was afraid that your appearance among the noble people of Rome from the Emperor's entourage would arouse unwanted interest from him. You could be considered by them as a spoil of war, his private concubine, someone equal to slaves. The thought itself stirred the blood in his veins.

He was calmer and better at playing his role as the Emperor's pet, knowing that you were waiting for him safely in his chambers.

"What troubles you, Acacius? Let me free your head from your worries." The curious voice of Emperor Geta reached his ears.

"It's nothing, my lord." Marcus nodded, his lips twisting into a small smile.

Geta watched him carefully "You're tired, aren't you? All this war, conquering... All men need to rest now, and so do you." He placed a hand on his shoulder and led him through the room filled with guests "I can offer you something that will delight your senses. The highest quality company, beautiful and fresh, with firm breasts..." he laughed quietly.

"You are generous, my lord." Marcus nodded humbly "I would like to be home though. In a bed other than the one I had in the camp."

"Alone?"

He was saved from answering by the music that suddenly started and distracted the Emperor. Soon the man finished his wine and let the guests surround him. The party was in full swing, and Marcus eagerly noticed the dark sky outside the window. The thought that you were alone in his house haunted him.

This place was a mystery to you. Previously, you had spent most of your time in and out of temples, but mortal homes never interested you. You walked barefoot through the rooms, occasionally spotting the servants who were busy preparing to welcome their lord.

The young girl who had been assigned to you dutifully toddled after you, clearly confused by your behavior.

"My lady." she said as you circled the inner garden of the house once again. "My lady, wait. Perhaps I should draw you a bath? You must be tired after such a long journey."

"Bath?" you didn't take your eyes off the stone bust standing against the wall.

"Yes, my lady." the girl approached, clearly pleased that she had caught your attention. "We have prepared a room for you."

You finally looked at her. She was beautiful. Her skin was kissed by the sun, her eyes large and dark, and her brown hair, which she had braided in a simple way, fell down her back.

"What is your name?"

"Melitta, my lady." she curtsied slightly and lowered her gaze. You repeated her name quietly, then gave yours, which made a shy smile appear on her lips. You unexpectedly grabbed her hand. "Lead me, Melitta. I feel like I won't be free from you if I don't take this bath."

"Our lord is kind and gracious to us. Not like some other masters..." Melitta's soft voice surrounded you as her graceful and skillful hands washed your body. The bath was warm and stuffy, filled with the scent of incense and enveloped in the warm light of candles. "His return was long awaited by us."

"Have you been in his house for a long?"

"A few years." she replied quietly. "But I am grateful for every day. General Acacius is..."

"Where are you from?" you interrupted her, you saw the surprise written on her beautiful face.

"What do you mean, my lady?" she asked.

"How did you come to Rome? You are not from here, I can feel it."

Melitta lowered her gaze, reaching for the oils standing on the floor next to her. Although your question didn’t hurt her, she felt awkward.

"My lady, asking a slave something like that is inappropriate." she said quietly as if she wanted to discreetly draw your attention to your lack of manners "It doesn't matter where we're from, now we belong to General Acacius, to Rome."

You turned around so you could look into the girl's face. "For me you are a person. You have a name, a family, roots. Your work, and the work of people like you, create this world."

"But we are still slaves... I mean no more than...than..." she grabbed the bottle with the amber liquid inside "Than that! Not all of us are born free, my lady. Maybe in your world it's easier, but it's only a world of ideas."

You lowered your gaze. Melitta's words echoed in your head, but you knew she was right. 

When you served your mistress, when you accompanied Minerva to her temples, or when you walked step by step behind Marcus - you never thought about how the Empire was built. To you all mortals were the same, too young, fragile, fleeting... Now you were one of them.

"Forgive me, please." You said quietly as Melitta helped you dress in clean, soft clothes. "I didn't mean to hurt you." 

"You didn't hurt me, my lady." She replied. "You noticed me."

It was late when he arrived at his estate. Cicadas were playing loudly in the garden, and the familiar rustle of sandals heralded the arrival of Antigonus, the steward of his house. The older man bowed low.

"General." He bowed low "It's good to see you in good health."

"I'm glad to see you too, Antigonus." Marcus replied, patting the man's shoulder "Is everything alright? How is our guest?"

"Everything has been prepared for your return, my lord. Melitta has taken care of your guest, taking her to her chamber."

The two set off down the dark corridors of the quiet house. "Oh, and she stayed there?" Marcus asked, feeling the corners of his mouth curl up, because he probably already knew the answer.

Antigonus sighed. "Your guest is very..." the man searched for the right word in his head "Curious." he said finally "But she's also beautiful and has a sharp mind. I had a hard time convincing her that she didn't have to help with the little chores in the garden. She seemed concerned."

"I guess. Don't worry, Antigonus. She's different from the ones we know, but she'll steal your heart."

"My lord."

The man noticed with concern that Marcus was heading towards where his bedroom and study were located. This worried him a little.

"If you wish to visit your guest, we've assigned her rooms on the other side of the house." he said.

The glow of the torch illuminated the General's tired face, but a smile was on his lips, "I think I'm where I should be. Good night, Antigonus." he replied and pushed the door open slightly.

The chamber was bathed in warm light, and the long shadow of a familiar figure was reflected on the wall. He noticed movement behind the delicate curtains covering his bed.

Gods, he would give anything to be able to immortalize the sight of you in some way. Every time his eyes looked at you, Marcus felt as if he was experiencing some indescribable miracle or grace. Even though you were already beyond his dream image, he still couldn't believe that a being so beautiful and extraordinary was within his reach.

You sat on his bed dressed in flowing robes that his servants had prepared for you. Around you were maps and other writings, you must have moved them there from his study. A small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows as you studied carefully what was before you, trying to understand it all.

"This is an unusual sight." he said quietly, and you flinched like a startled doe.

He emerged from the shadows and approached the bed. Your eyes followed his every step, a smile spreading across your lips as he finally stood before you. You sat back on your heels and rose slightly.

"Marcus..." his name flowed from between your lips like the sweetest song of praise.

He stroked your cheek, then leaned down to brush your sweet lips. "I thought I'd find you sleeping, not planning the expansion of your empire. Should I call you general or emperor now?" he said, chuckling.

"Call me whatever you want." You replied, taking his colossal hand in yours and kissing the back of it tenderly. "I saw this on your desk, I couldn't help myself."

"Curiosity can be dangerous, little bird. But tell me, please, what are you looking for there?"

Your gaze wandered back to the maps lying on the white sheets. Numerous lines intersected to form the borders of the country, the letters formed the names of cities and regions, but it meant nothing to you. You only saw that what was marked as the Empire was growing on each successive map.

"What's all this for?" you asked. "Why are you conquering more lands? Why are you killing each other? Our gods can be merciless, but you, humans, can be more terrible than them."

Warm fingers stroked your chin as Marcus considered your words. These thoughts had been haunting his mind for some time now. Did you know him that well?

"The Empire must be strong," he finally answered. "Our victories give it power and authority."

"They also give you new stomachs to fill. Meanwhile, you flood the fields with blood, you don't sow seeds for bread there."

He knew you were right. Gods! Marcus knew that perfectly well. He sat down next to you, and you greedily slid onto his lap. Your closeness gave him solace.

"The empire must grow to exist." You continued. "The beast must devour new victims to grow, and what if it doesn't find them anymore? What if it starts eating its own children?"

A grimace crossed his face. You saw the tiredness in his eyes, you didn't want to add to it, but only he was able to explain to you the world that you were now a part of.

"We have to believe that we are ruled by people who know how to prevent this from happening." He finally said.

"Do you believe in your words, Marcus?"

"I'm trying."

You took his face in your hands and placed your forehead against his. "I wish I could take away all your worries, my love. I wish I could find a better world for us."

He hummed quietly, his hands wandering over your back, sliding under the soft fabric wanting to feel the warmth and delicacy of your body.

"Now you are my world and I will defend it at all costs," he said quietly. 

Your body tensed as your lips collided. It didn't take much force to push him onto the sheets, sharing a precious breath with him. You made love, pushing away from your thoughts everything that cast a shadow over your feelings. 

It wasn't until later, when you were asleep, cuddled up to his side, his body free from the tension of the day, that Marcus still considered your words. The words you had spoken, the words that had filled his mind and heart for so long.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

@ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal @missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing @mynameisbaby9 @94namkooksworld @bbyanarchist

[in-death-sacrifice]

Stolen moments

Lucanis Dellamorte x AFAB! (Crow) Rook

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Light voyeurism, Unprotected Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex,

You stayed near Viago exchanging pleasantries with anyone that approached the two of you. Word had spread all over Thedas about what you had achieved. How not one but two members of the Crows had fought to protect the world from the gods. So of course the Talons were going to proudly display them both. "You don't have to look so bored you know?" Viago joked from beside you, his eyes lighting up in amusement as he caught you scanning the room for the 3rd time that night. "Perhaps you should be a better company then" you retorted sarcastically causing the man beside you to laugh. "You're just angry I'm keeping you by my side and not letting you go to a certain someone" he teased, grinning as you turned your head trying to hide the giddish smile and blushing cheeks.

Between the aftermath of the battle and all the Contracts Viago had assigned you on due to your rise in popularity; you barely got to meet the newly appointed first talon. The time away wasn't doing either of you and good. His lack of sleep had begun to catch up, running off the last long sleep he had with you weeks ago. Your bodies craved each other, the tension with the eye contact you had managed to do during the evening was enough to begin causing the whirlpool of need in your lower stomach- no doubt having the same effect on him.

Viago chuckled when you finally saw him again, the swaying on your feet had come to a stop, your eyes widened in adoration. He was almost tempted to keep you at his side forbid you from going over there just because it was funny seeing you so desperate for someone. But you had both been through enough - held your responsibilities professionally making sure not to ruin either house's reputation. He was honestly surprised Lucanis hadn't begged him to let you go to House Dellamorte. "Go..I'll find Teia or something" he chuckled, a smirk grew on his lips as he watched your head whip round. Smiling wide at him. You didn't even thank him, just ran off weaving through the crowd in hopes to find the host of the evening.

He found you first, his hand grasping your wrist as he dragged you away from the evening. You wordlessly followed him down the endless corridors; enjoying the view from the back of your guide. The way his shoulders held such power and danger, his waist was just the perfect size. The muscles right under his shirt rippled as he walked, muscles you couldn't wait to dig your nails into the next time you got the chance. Perhaps Viago would be kind enough to let you stay the night, creating some excuse as to why you didn't leave the party with him to reduce chatter and gossip among the other crows. The door shut softly as he led you into a room, his eyes were soft as he gazed at you; that damn smile plastered on his face. The one that made you melt the first time finally admitted you felt, before you both faced impossible odds. "Rook."

You couldn't help the blush that decorated your cheeks from the sultry tone that left his lips as he called your name. You sighed as his hand touched your cheek. The feeling of his catolloused fingers was sorely missed, ones that had been shaped through years of killing much like your own. "I've missed you" he whispered as his arms enveloped your frame bringing you close. Lucanis was never one for a quick fuck, always wanting to make sure you both left the room completely satisfied or he would wait until he could do that. His hands had already begun slipping under the fabric of your top as he untucked it causing you to gasp when his cold hands made contact with the skin.

"I've missed you too, I think Viago got bored of hearing me complain about it" you chuckled. Lucanis smirked, his eyes darkening as he brought you in for another kiss. "I think we can make up for lost time no?" He grinned. You pulled back gazing at the man before you, his hair nicely trimmed along with his beard all for show to the houses that gathered tonight. "Isn't it rude for the host to slip away from their own party?" You teased as your fingers began to work on his clothing. A dark chuckle escaped his lips again before he pinned you against the door. "I'm sure people will be patient and distracted for a while"

His teeth nipped at your pulse point, saving the way it beat against his lips. He could hear Spite's satisfaction that you were well and truly alive and healthy. His fingers began to run down your sides, undoing the many layers of clothing that hid your body away from him. "Damn Viago for making you wear this many layers" he muttered against the marks he had left, claiming you. It would raise the gossip between everyone, all the houses will try and figure out who left the large purple mark for everyone to see but in this moment neither of you cared. After everything you had been through, why should either of you.

You stood bare against the door, the metal embellishments cold against the heat of your skin. You admired his build, somehow more toned than before. Your lips pressed feather like kisses over his heart earning sweet hums of contentment as he savoured the feeling. His hands found your thighs gripping them as he hoisted you against the door. You could feel his tip prod at the entrance, pre cum leaking eagerly against your folds. His hips moved slowly gathering the arousal that left your weeping entrance before he slowly slid himself in. The two of you are groaning at the feeling as your walls stretched to welcome the intrusion.

His pace was slow dragging the whole length out before he would bottom himself. Saving the way your walls clenched around him. His eyes shut as he attempted to steady himself, savour this feeling as neither of you know when you could get this chance again. His mouth twitched upwards into a smile as he hears your whines and whimpers, evidence that he was satisfying you perfectly. With new found confidence he increased his speed, the primal need to claim you began pulsing in his blood.

Your nails scratched down his back releasing deep groans from his lips. His hips started to sputter as he got closer to his release, your moans becoming breathy pants as your own shattered through you. You relaxed against the cool surface of the door, allowing him to continue to use you until he found his own release.

He buried himself deep as his cock finally twitched, his load spurting deep inside you filling you with warmth. His head rested on your shoulder breathing in your scent as he cooled down. Your fingers played with the strands of his hair grounding you. It was moments like this that you missed the most, the shared intimacy of the moment as you both relaxed. You loved how he became putty in your arms begging for the touch he never knew he needed.

You had both been through so much, your hands ran over the scars that littered his back some stories still untold but etched into his skin as haunted memories. Lucanis moved the two of you away from the door, unsheathing himself as he settled you on the chair. "I've missed you" he whispered embracing you. His missed the feeling of you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. "I've missed you too" you chuckled, relishing in the skin to skin contact you both craved. You both may be busy now but you know in your heart you'll always return. "Can't wait for the night to end and I can finally sleep in your arms again...I've needed it badly"

You smiled at him watching the way his eyes relaxed as you brushed your fingers through the strands of his hair. "Maybe we should go back and end the night quickly..and then I'll make sure to leave the door unlocked for someone to possibly enter" you whispered. Lucanis chuckled against your neck breathing your scent one last time before getting dressed again ready to face the rest of the event with few found goals for the end of the night.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 12)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(LISTEN… this story has gotten out of control and I need help.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“It’s alright, child.” Sera’s moods swung round like a revolving door. She could change and bend from someone motherly to a raging Force to an uninvolved observer in a millisecond. “You don’t know any better.”

She reach out and placed a hand on your cheek, perfectly warm and loving in her caress while her eyes remained like flint against the loveliest of features. “Everything has come to pass as it should. You’ll understand in time.” 

It made you sick. Your skin grew clammy as an acidic substance shot up your esophagus and your whole body pitched backward to escape.

You would’ve taken hours locked away with that asshole Adam before you stood another minute being condescended to by the Seraphim.

You were sulking, and you knew it, but you couldn’t stop. 

The building that you had been taken into to meet Sera in the first place served as some sort of Capital. It was grandiose and reached so high up that you couldn’t see where the damn ceiling ended. Perhaps it didn’t. 

You had to take great pains to escape it, navigating among high-ranking angels of all kinds filtering from both the ground and air above you in orderly chaos. It quickened your step to notice that a number of them did a double-take at seeing you. 

           They resembled different things, just as the angels outside did, although most of them appeared human-like. You wondered briefly if there was a rhyme or reason to it, or if God chose to make the woman you barely avoided running into resemble a moose because it made Him laugh. 

Once you’d escaped the war room, you had immediately breathed a little easier. Still, you continued on until you physically felt the tiny shocks and electric currents of warning ebb from your skin. It was as if Sera’s essence had stuck to you, her presence clinging to your frame to make a longer impression.

It had your skin tightening, muscles clenching as a chaotic flood of anxiety and fear prevented you from walking solidly. Too many ‘what if’s’ took you in and out of awareness, making you stumble over nothing. 

It had crossed your mind that Emily did not appear before you’d made yourself scarce. A part of you had wondered at that, feeling as though she’d have waited for you out of some concern for your wellbeing. 

Perhaps that was all for show, however. Sera was clearly excellent at appearing benevolent, and Emily had looked toward the Seraphim for guidance in front of you. It stood to reason that Emily could also be two-faced. 

The logic was sound and yet it made you wince, whether from shame at your incorrect judge or character —

‘Or how much she reminds me of Lucifer.’

You imagined Emily looking at you while stripped of any warmth and compassion. She quickly changed, morphing into Lucifer with hollow, unfeeling red eyes. 

It hurt.

—

Panic had you frozen in place a time or two before you’d gained a wide enough berth to stop. 

Beforehand you’d walked clouds so polished and flat you’d swear they were glass, amidst the more general population of Heaven with your arms wrapped around yourself. It felt needed when even those outside the Capital looked at you with interest, as if they knew. 

Maybe they did. Was it against the rules to keep secrets in Heaven? 

“We are literally judges, juries and executioners in Hell.”

“Executioners?” 

“What’re you talking about?” 

The recollection of a seemingly insignificant moment drew you to a halt. You stared at the pristine ground, fists knocking at your sides. The confusion on your face doubled when you looked up. 

Your ‘wide berth’ had led you far away from the crowds of perfectly content angels and their sleek, futuristic buildings. Farther than you’d anticipated, as ahead of you lay a line of trees that thickened into a dense forest. 

Like Earth, Heaven had a variety of terrains — or so it would seem. Child-like curiosity had you crossing the line between airy openness and into the thicket of pines. All varieties of fir, pine, and larch coexisted with one another, bowing and swaying in the wind. There was nothing to be afraid of, but a sense of oddity hung in the air as you walked a perfectly sculpted path. 

The smell of damp earth and lilies rose from the ground at your feet. A warm breeze rustled the hair that hung limply around your face. Birds sung merrily above you, flitting from branch to branch. 

It occurred to you that no matter how deep you traveled into the woods, the sunlight never waned. 

And yet faintly you heard roaring. It was distant but growing louder with every step you took. 

It was not an animal nor man calling out to you from far away. You felt the change as the smell of sap intermingled with that of salt on the wind, and the floor turned from nettles and moss to pale sand. 

You rubbed your eyes as the trees parted and seemed to disappear as they revealed a beautiful, sparkling sea. 

Sun cast off the surface of the ocean, bouncing against a kaleidoscope of multicolored clouds surrounding it. And you had Dejá vu before blinking away the flash of purple and honey in your eyes. 

You watched tiny waves as they fell against the shoreline, seafoam disappearing within moments. It continued, mesmerizing you, as you ambled toward it. When the water finally rushed over your feet, it carried tiny seashells that scuttled around you. And unlike the ocean you were familiar with, this one was a perfect temperature, no acclimation required. 

For the first time since arriving in Heaven, you felt yourself smiling genuinely. 

You gave into the urge to squish the wet sand between your toes and waded into the water up to your ankles. Your worries began to wash away with each pull of the tide, slow and steady. 

Eventually, you meandered away from that singular spot and began to trek parallel to the shore. The sun never got in your eyes nor did the sand get whipped up and blow into your mouth. Everything from the waves to the breeze was gentle. 

As were the eyes that were upon you. 

As soon as you felt that stare, you stopped in your tracks. Just the thought of turning to them was daunting. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

—

Eve had lingered upon your every step once you’d arrived in her neck of the woods. 

She was glad to see that the effects of the beach it hid were enough to soothe you, even if it was more of a distraction than a cure. You deserved something good, even if it was relatively meager compared to everything you’d endured up to this point. 

Your figure grew smaller as you crossed the sand, away from the first woman’s hiding spot. You were none the wiser, engrossed in the soothing give and take of the water. It made it easier for Eve to creep up the beach only a few paces away, free to follow your path without ruining your tranquility. 

It reminded Eve of a simpler time when she was the one being eyed curiously from afar. 

*** Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision, @marydragneell, @lafy-taffy, @fandom-imagines1, @loquacious-libra, @glowymxxn, @avadakadabra93, @froggybich, @hamthepan, @ukor02, @adaizel, @boogiemansbitch, @vinillies, @lbcreations-blog, @thesoundresoundsecho, @serenity-loves-red, @alientee, @aquaamythest96, @0strawberrysorbet0, @fluffy-koalala, @washeduphazbin, @rebecca-hvnstn, @velvette3, @kermitdafroggy, @wpdarlingpan, @apatcheworkofproblems, @cherry-cola-100, @pink-apples001, @al-of-the-stars, @backinthefkingbuildingagain, @martinys-world, @alastorssimp, @wobblesthewaffle, @shikiribee, @undertale-anomaly20, @asakura-fangirl-stuff, @ringsofpersonti, @angelicwillows, @wingoodlilboymyway, @cimadreamer, @museofzealoushope, @oneiric-rotaerc, @call-me-nyxx, @darling-angel222, @elementwind91, @bloody-delusion-expert, @martinys-world, @devilslittlebabyxx

Forgive me if I forgot to tag you or the tags don’t work, I don’t know what that keeps happening.

[luna0713hunter]

Hello ! ! How are you? I hope you're doing fine as usual, i hope you're taking care of yourself because you matter < 3. If you're taking requests, can i request wind breaker boys ( + suo ) with their crush who's the sweetest among the people in town but they're also dumb when it comes to romance (dating) stuff:3?

A/n : Hello hello darling angel✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧how you doll?well arent you sweet?im doing fine,alittle bit tired but I'll managed~ and- oh my gosh!!!my first wind breaker request!!you cant believe how happy this makes me!!!!such a cute one too!!!hope uou enjoy reading it!! (And gosh im crushing so hard on Sou but mostly Hajime Umemiya!)

(also,im very slow at writing so pls forgive me )

Wind Breaker boys with a sweet S/O

Featuring : Sakura Haruka,Hayato Suo

Sakura Haruka

•first of all,we know Haruka is no genius when it comes to love

•two clueless idiots

•when Haruka first saw you,he had immediately blushed crimson red as you took his injured hands in yours and gave him a worried look

•ever since he got to this town, he's been experiencing unusual kindness from everyone around him

•but you

•oh gods

•you're so different from everyone in his entire life that he doesn't know what to do with himself

•Haruka often finds himself wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers when he's around you;his heart beating wildly in his chest and his skin feeling awfully hot

•its not long before Umemiya points this out to him with his usual kind laughter

•at first, Haruka will deny this

•love?!who the hell falls in love at the first sight?!

•him. That's who

•but then,he starts getting these feelings

•he finds himself searching for you in every crowd,every place he visits

•if there's a fight, you're the first one he gets worried about

•and when you smile sweetly at him,he finds his heart beating out of his chest

•he accepts his feelings later,one night when he's walking you home and your figure is illuminated by the moonlight

•now comes the hard part;how the hell should he tell you his feelings?!

•and it doesnt help that you're the most dense person he's ever seen when it comes to romantic feelings

•and he's seen himself

•but eventually,you start taking some hints here and there

•when Haruka convinces Kotoha to finally make him some takeouts,

•he asks you come to the riverside with him at night

•and when you're laughing,sharing the last piece of the sandwich

•Haruka nervously reaches out and nudges his pinky to yours

•and when you immediately wrap your smaller finger around his,he covers his face with his hand

•a content smile settling over both your faces as your cheeks turn dark red

Hayato Suo

•a gentleman

•this dude knows he's in love with you the moment you two meet

•he's not by all means in denial or anything

•but he won't rush in confessing his feelings to you

•Suo will wait, patiently,and drop a hint or two here and there

•expect a lot of romantic gestures from him

•maybe a bouquet of roses, afternoon tea along with your favorite sweets

•or going out on nights he has to do patrol,and end up sitting by the riverbank to watch the moon until the dawn

•Suo will try to give you anything you ever wished for

•after all, you're the sweetest being he's ever laid eye on

•but its no secret that you're slightly... oblivious to his feelings toward you

•and he even finds that cute

•but after a while of adoring smiles,and small, meaningful gifts

•you start to take the hint

•Suo is a kind human at heart, but he's never done any of things he's done with you to anybody else

• he doesnt smile softly at people around him like they've hung the moon and stars

•he doesnt randomly leave others small meaningful gifts here and there

•so when you finally gather enough courage to make a move, Suo's more than happy that you've finally realized his feelings toward you

• "Hayato-kun," your small voice immediately has his attention shifting to you, "do you perhaps....like me?"

•at that, he smiles brightly and takes hold of your hand in his

• a sweet kiss is pressed to the back of your hand and your face flushes deep red

• "ah," he says, "has my darling finally figured it out?"

• when you mumble out a shy "yes" and "sorry for taking so long", Suo will only pull you close and press a gentle kiss to your forehead

•"dont worry about it, my love"

• "you were worth the wait."

Part two (?)

[yzzaqczec]

Beneath the moons glow

Idea: @sametsyun

Once, there was Y/N, a divine being created by the gods to watch over the moon. She was an angel with a silvery glow, her presence a soft luminescence among the vastness of the cosmos. The moon was her kingdom—silent, serene, and lonely. She spent her days attending wishes of the mortals below them. Their hopes whispered up to her through the night, which sounded all the more silent with them, till she heard their promises of the soul.

Except that one who came often was making her heart beat with something which she could not identify.

Lucifer, that was his name and was a fallen angel driven from Heaven long ago. Every time he would come to her place, that always would carry the promise of more than words: the excitement of seeing what the visitor may bring - small things- a bunch of ducks, flowers in star shape, anything whimsical and sweet. Y/N in turn gave the man her wishes for trivial things, moments of glee, for laughter. Alone no longer was Y/N in the company of her visitor. The days turned to months, and the months grew into years. A quiet affection for each other blossomed.

Their bonding grew in the silent nights that were lit by the moon. Lucifer never asked for anything extravagant, and Y/N would always find herself wanting to provide him with whatever he desired. She had fallen in love with him, although she did not know what to call it. Love? She never dared to ask, but she knew he was of the same thought. He smiled every time he saw her his smile shines brighter than the stars in the sky. She would do anything for him, and so did he seem.

Then one day, Lucifer just stopped coming.

Initially, Y/N thought it was just nothing. "Why haven't you come by? I wait for you each night, when the stars shine bright and the moon protects us both. Was this something I did?" she silently asked the empty moon.

Days became weeks, then weeks turned into months, all without him. She still waited, lonely and clueless. She searched the heavens for him, but he was nowhere to be found. She could not help but wonder whether something had happened, whether she perhaps had done something wrong. "Had I failed him in some way? Did he no longer want me to grant his wishes?" Her heart felt heavy as the cycles of the moon increased, and she began to feel a deep sadness that no star could chase away. The only solace was the fact that one day, he would return, and everything would be okay.

One day, Lucifer showed up. His smile was as broad as ever, but something was different. It did not feel the same. The warmth that once seemed to emanate from his presence was now gone, replaced by an emptiness that cut deeper than she could have imagined.

"Y/N" he greeted, the name slipping from his lips like a familiar song, but with a hollow tone. He handed her a small, delicate gift wrapped in glistening paper, but there was no joy behind his eyes.

Y/N heart skipped, her hopes rising for a moment. "It’s been a long time," she said softly. "I’ve missed you."

Lucifer's eyes flickered briefly, then he quickly covered it with a chuckle. "I've been busy. But I've come to ask for a wish."

Her heart leapt, and she smiled. This was it, she thought. "Maybe this is the moment we return to what we had before. Maybe it'll be like it once was." But his words shattered that fragile hope.

He asked for something that felt wrong, something that was against the very rules she had been bound to since her creation. It was a wish that involved breaking celestial laws. She hesitated. "This. This is too much. I can't grant this, Lucifer." But his eyes, those eyes she had trusted for so long, looked at her with something she couldn't place.

"You think I forgot you? You think I stopped caring? No, Y/N. I couldn't forget you. But the moment I walked away from the moon, I knew I'd lost something I couldn't get back," he said, his voice laced with guilt.

She felt the weight of his words, but despite her doubt, she couldn't refuse him. Her heart—"I would do anything for him,"—knew no better. With trembling hands, she granted the wish, though it was wrong, something that she knew she should not do.

What she did not know was the price with which it came.

Lucifer's trial soon followed, and Y/N was left dazed. She had been summoned to the heavenly court, where the angels looked at her with judgment in their eyes. Lucifer stood at the center of the courtroom, his head lowered in shame. And beside him stood Lilith—the one who had been with him all along, the one he had truly wanted all this time.

Her heart cracked, shards of trust and affection shattering. "You think I wanted to leave you? You think I wanted to stop visiting the moon? No. but I had no choice. Sometimes the price of freedom is heavier than you think," Lucifer had said, but his betrayal stung just the same.

As the angels questioned her, "What had you done, Y/N? What wish did you grant him?" this truth struck her like thunder—she was the one that helped him bring Lilith back.

Lucifer, in a moment of panic, pointed his finger at her. "She did it. It was her who granted me the wish."

The words cut deeper than any betrayal she could have thought of. "So this was it. All that I had given to him, all the love I thought we shared. it was nothing."

Lucifer and Lilith were punished and sent down to Hell to stay there forever. However, Y/N was not shown any mercy; however, the punishment she received was a lighter one. They said she didn't know what the wish would do. Nevertheless, she was sent out of Heaven, a beautiful home lost to her for good. She remained there, on the moon, her heart a heavy aching weight in her chest.

"You were my haven. my escape from everything. I never thought that I would ever bring about such pain in you. I thought that I was capable of handling all of this, but it was just too much," Lucifer's words echoed in her head as she looked out to the vast emptiness that the moon surface seemed to offer.

There was her on the bleak, snow cold desert landscape alone, when before she a green bunny that he'd given her years earlier stirred to life, tears fallen into its little soft frame on whose green jade-eyes sparkle lit after these final tears until she saw not alone again. Small creature nuzzled by it and she found this instant comfort.

“I thought I was doing what was right for myself, for Lilith. But now I realize I’ve lost more than I could ever gain. You were everything I needed. and I let you go,” Lucifer's voice, tinged with regret, haunted her every moment.

Years passed, eons even. The moon, once dark and empty, started changing. Lights shimmered, festivals sprang up, and laughter filled the air. It had become a place for celebration, joy, and fun, but Y/N heart still ached with pain for the love she had lost.

Her search for Lucifer never ended. She tried everything: every spell, every ritual, every prayer. But nothing seemed to work. "If you're out there, Lucifer, do you ever wonder about me? Do you ever miss the moon? Or has the Hell beneath your feet become too heavy?" she whispered, looking to the heavens, but nothing came.

One day, she realized that despite everything, she had never truly stopped loving him. "You’ll always be a part of me, Lucifer. Whether you forgive me or not, you’ll always have a place in my heart. I just wish I could show you that before it was too late."

And so, with lights and laughter still burning all around, Y/N made a promise to find him again. No matter the time it took or how long the distance was; she would find her way back to him.

And perhaps, just maybe, the stars will finally align.

---

Will post the pt2 next week:>

OKAY TOTALLY RUSHED THIS

I did not proofread this so mb if there are some mistakes, I totally added chang'e instead of y/n in some of these😭

Idea from!! @sametsyun

https://www.tumblr.com/sametsyun/742930833875353600/i-have-a-fanfic-idea-alright-you-guys-know-that?source=share

TYSM I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO THINK OF AN IDEA(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙 Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1971 Dedicated to: @blackiron11 & @yelenablshop

Finale III - part 2/3 (Rio x Reader ending)

Agatha barely spared him a look, for she knew she could not keep the facade if she saw that annoying but rather persuading puppy face he had. God, he and his mother had that in common, among many other things.

“What?” you exclaimed, finally in tune with everything.

You had been awfully quiet, watching the mental debate between Agatha and Billy. You hated how powerless you were once again, but if any of those two dared to offer themselves, you swore you would fight until Rio had no choice but to kill you.

And then Agatha dropped that bomb... one you should have seen coming.

But considering the other sides she dared to show Billy and even the coven, sides that you had to fight for to see... you thought perhaps all those centuries had changed her. Perhaps she had come to terms with everything.

Yet it seemed she had just made another deal behind your back. Another selfless deal to save her skin and potentially yours, but that was not the point.

“You heard him. The Boy. As promised,” Agatha continued as she walked further away. “Now, let Y/N go and put my yard back.”

The vines holding you hostage released you, and red lines and thorn wounds were evident on your exposed skin, but that was the least of your concerns. You got up, your legs feeling weak from the restricted blow flow, and your body was in desperate need of a rest, but you would bother with that later.

“Agatha... I thought...” Billy said, his voice turning into a whisper, and he tried hard not to lose the last little spark of hope he had within.

He really thought Agatha had changed, that she was a different person. She had shown him a different side of her. Then, why did she act that way all of a sudden?

Was it all a fluke? Just a big plan she had formed from the beginning?

Agatha turned a fake smile on her lips. “What can I say? I am a coven-less witch.” She repeated his words. “Come along, pet. We have things to do.”

She looked at you and then turned to walk away, expecting you would follow her without a second thought. After all, that’s what you often did, and you had made it clear in the last trial that you would be with her until the end.

Well, this was clearly not the end, but she still needed you with her.

You looked at her, walking away like she always did. Like all the other times, she walked away from you after being turned down. All the other times you had chosen to stay back...

This was your chance to change that. This was your chance to be with her for good, to not let her wander the world around.

You took one step and then another, glancing at Rio first. She did not seem surprised by the events, although you swore she was disappointed she could not have fun with you anymore.

She would find ways, though.

You dared look at Billy, seeing his defeated expression that made your heart crack and slowly crumble into a dozen pieces. He was so done with betrayal and selfishness, so defeated by the way Agatha gave him away.

Any light or hope he used to have in his dark eyes was gone, and he was slowly becoming an empty husk, waiting for death to finally take him.

At least his mortal parents would finally be able to grieve in peace, not having to worry when the memory of their son would return. At least Tommy was alive, and he would have a second chance. At least he would reunite with his supposed parents, maybe even Sparky.

“Come along, Y/N!” Agatha called your name when she suspected you were taking your sweet time.

Honestly, you could grieve and hate her later. Now, she truly wanted to just leave Rio and this place behind.

Once and for all.

“No,” you exclaimed as you placed both feet on the ground.

“No?” Agatha repeated as she turned halfway, stealing you a suspicious look.

“I am not letting him take her, Agatha,” you argued. “I was not there for Little Nicky, but I will be there for Billy. “

Your words cut deep into the hearts of both Agatha and Rio, who had different views of their son’s passing.

Rio glanced down momentarily, still hating how Nicky’s death had pushed her and Agatha away after everything. She understood why you chose to take that stand with Billy, and she was certain you would have stubbornly done the same had you been present when Rio came for her son.

Yet again, you had always been the more open-minded between you and Agatha, especially when it came to natural laws and sacred orders that were the foundations of this universe and all the others.

Agatha, on the other hand, felt her throat closing momentarily at the mention of her dead son. The scar he left on her heart had been reopened after the last trial, and the fact that Billy reminded her of Nicky so much was not helping. And now, you chose to stand and try to change things... you really had bad timing.

Billy parted his lips in silent surprise, not expecting you to stubbornly stay by his side. Honestly, he was happy there was someone who still wished him to be around and fight for him. However, he did not want you to get hurt more than you already were. No matter your powers or sudden boost, you were clearly no match for Rio, who had not even broken a sweat.

However, one thing seemed to only fit into some of this... Nicky.

The son of Rio and Agatha, the one no one knew what happened to...why was he brought up now?

A crazy theory popped into his mind, and he turned his focus fully on Agatha, who was hesitating to leave you behind. It took him a strain, but in the end, he managed to get access to her mind, even if it was limited.

‘Agatha!’ he called out her name mentally, the street light nearby flickering passively due to the aura of his power. ‘Is this what happened to Nicky?’

If you mention that Nicholas had wounded her heart, Billy actually crashed it. Memories of her sweet boy got awoken in her mind, threatening to take control and make her drop the mask she had chosen to wear once again.

And as she fought against her emotions, something replayed in her mind... something you had told her not long ago.

"I don't think he will ever judge you, Ags. He loved you too much,"

Perhaps you were right. Perhaps it was time for her to face her fears, the skeletons in her closet.

Before she would do that, though, she decided to take one last risk. No matter what, she would accept your hate after it; she would accept your anger and anything you would throw at her.

But this was the only way for everyone to get what they wanted, the only way to end this once and for all.

And so, Agatha started to march towards Rio, confident as ever. Rio so openly and quickly approached for the hug, obediently yearning for Agatha’s touch after all those years of being kept away and blamed for things she could not control.

The kiss that followed was one that Rio would never forget, and neither would you... not when you spotted the green veins growing across Agatha’s cheeks or the tears threatening to escape Rio’s eyes.

“No... no, no. Agatha!” you shouted, calling her name as you tried to make your way there.

Whether she heard you or not, it was too late to change things. She could already feel the change; Rio’s invading powers were doing their job as they should have all those years ago. Even when she stopped absorbing them, she focused on the last kiss she would have with her.

A kiss also shows that she forgave Rio for everything that happened to Nicky.

She wished she could have kissed you one last time, but she would face the end, knowing you were safe and in good hands.

Your shouts and cries echoed above the winds, your wails of pain and grief being heard across the different houses surrounding you, making the residents wonder what kind of deity was harmed that night.

You rushed towards the couple, tripping more than once from exhaustion and shock. You could not lose Agatha, not after everything you two had been through... not after making up for all the times you stayed behind and let her go on her own.

Yet it was too late. Agatha started to levitate up, a peaceful look on her face, as Rio’s powers gently lowered her to the ground, laying her on the green grass.

You were about to catch her, try to use your magic to heal her, but a pair of arms stopped you.

Rio grabbed you by the waist, holding you back from making a fatal mistake. This was Agatha’s choice and her time was up, there was no saving... no second chances.

“No! NO!” You tried to fight her grip in a desperate attempt, tears running down your cheeks in a never-ending stream. Your white magic went crazy, trying to blast Rio off and resonate with the sudden loss and pain you felt deep in your heart.

Yet Rio remained firm and standing, ignoring the burning sensation your magic caused on her, for she knew she had to keep holding you and let your grief... just as she did, a last tear escaping as purple flowers and mushrooms of different kinds started to grow where Agatha’s body was decomposing.

Your shouts turned into whispers and pleas before you were only left with sobs. You stopped channelling your magic, letting it die along with your broken heart as you held on to Rio for dear life. You buried your tear-stained face on her side, unable to stare at the body of your lover who was no longer there.

Your shoulders shook, and it was one thing Rio never wished to ever sense, your sobs the one thing she never wished to hear... for at that time, her black heart was breaking into pieces.

She mourned the loss of Agatha, the lover that made her truly feel. She would not see her again, for she had promised not to come for her when she would die. And she shared your grief, feeling invisible pain at seeing you so heartbroken and defeated, even though it was an inevitable thing that would come one day.

The sound of steps against the grass reminded you that Billy was still there, utterly crushed by what he had witnessed. Agatha’s selfless sacrifice, her rotting corpse, your pleas and begs... he thought the Road had scarred him, the hex folding... but they were nothing compared to this.

He approached with hesitant steps, still not believing that Agatha was gone or that the patch of purple flowers and mushrooms was her. He wanted to comfort you, offer you a hug, and just try to be there, though he could not do anything to change the situation.

He halted when Rio turned her head to face him, the bottom half of her face just a skeleton.

“You can go,” her deep voice echoed, magically sent out without the need to move her skeleton jaw.

Billy hesitated, glancing at your weeping form. “What about-“

“I will take care of her. Her path is with me.”

Part 3/3

[annwrites]

— aemond targaryen quotes ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖ | sons & daughters

❝You prefer to watch then, niece? Come down, and I will give you a private show of your very own, if you instead join me.❞

❝What is it you pray for, then, I wonder? An advantageous marriage, perhaps. One for love, I’m sure. You always did have your head in the clouds as a child.❞

❝I recently learned yours never hatched, even after taking it such a long way. I could tell you why that might be, but I fear it may offend you. So, let me instead make you an offer.❞ (...) ❝Come join me on mine own. She is the largest in all the world. Just consider what that might imply about her rider.❞

❝At least you have not forsaken your mother tongue,❞ he’d said, coming closer yet again. ❝Mine own is quite adept at it, among other things.❞

❝Then perhaps we steal away in the dark of night, married in secret by a septon. Like something out of a fairytale book, which I know you loved so dearly at one time. Our marriage consummated upon a bed of hay, in a barn where our secrets lay hidden.❞

❝Let us flee across the Narrow Sea, then, for there is nothing left for me here now. Not with you having gone and hidden yourself away from me on that desolate island. Let us finally be free of our gilded cages, beloved niece. Together.❞

❝I see you have not forgotten our games as children we so often enjoyed together in those most private moments. Hm. How well we got to know one another then.❞

❝If I do, you will thus be ruined for all, wholly belonging to me at last.❞

❝Stay. I’ve enough of you walking away from me.❞

❝Have you much thought about it? What we did in the Godswood—alone—with just ourselves and our sweet sin between us? I know I have. Would you like to know what I did about it? Mayhaps you did as well.❞

❝Come, then, let us find a dark corner so I might explore and discover the answer for myself. So I might see in what all ways you have grown into a woman, besides just your disposition.❞

❝Fuck them. Let them watch.❞

❝You know the promise we once made: to never lie to one another. You believe me to have forgotten it? I lost my eye, not my senses, dear niece.❞

❝You belong with me. You are of my blood and I yours.❞

❝I will return it to you when you return to me. Not a moment sooner.❞

❝To my most beloved niece: how good it is to have you returned to me once again. For I have missed you so very dearly. I eagerly await our next reunion. I much hope it is…quite soon.❞

❝We should be together. We're supposed to be.❞

❝Tell me then, boy, if your whore mother did not send you prepared to wield a sword in her name, why did she not send my lovely niece then instead? I do so long to see her.❞

❝She is there, in that northern wasteland they dare call a kingdom?❞ He sneers. ❝She should be instead with me. She is my blood. Mine!❞

❝Y/N belongs to me.❞ (...) ❝Nothing will change that. Including some dull, passionless northern lord. What is he compared to her own uncle? A prince?❞

❝You see,❞ he cocks his head to the side. ❝She was meant to be my betrothed. She was created for me to have. I would not expect you to understand, but it is mine own blood which I am meant to wed.❞

❝Some unwashed northern fucking lord is not suitable for her needs! I am!❞

❝Do you want to know, then, mother? The things we did with only the Gods to bear witness?❞

❝I’m going to get my bride back!❞

❝My niece belongs to me! She belongs with me! Not fucking there! Mine! Mine! She is mine!❞

❝My fucking property! She was born for me! Created to be given to me to have and take to wife!❞

❝I'll burn the fucking North! I'll burn the whole God's-damned Realm if that's what it takes! I'll have Maester Orwyle cut that thing out of her, and fill her instead with my seed! A dragon, not a fucking dog! I'll feed it to Vhagar!❞

❝It is alright, my beloved niece. We're together now. None shall part us ever again, or I will kill them. I'll kill them all. I swear it.❞

❝You will remain always by my side. Until your last breath. You will not—fuck—so much as look at another man. You will remain in our chambers. Safe and sound. Always waiting for me.❞

❝You are perfect. Every single part of you was made for me to love. And I do, and I will, and I shall.❞

❝My beloved niece,❞ he drawls against the shell of your ear. ❝One lifetime of having you will not be near enough.❞

❝You are meant to be with a dragon. Not a wolf,❞ he spits.

❝I am giving you one last chance, beloved niece,❞ he says acidically. ❝Give up this bit of ridiculous pretend before you force my hand.❞

[roguishcat]

A sound judgement

Thank you so much @pursuitseternal for your request and for giving me this prompt (Magistrate Astarion AU, where he was never turned)! This was an absolute delight to write, even if it took me a while to actually get done. Hope you enjoy it!

Excerpt:

And this was when Astarion remembered that he was, in fact, the law and you had no choice but to obey him. A small voice in the back of his mind chose to remind him how badly this could backfire. Astarion chose not to heed the warnings of said voice and immediately began plotting.

Word count: 5.1k

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader

Tags: some suggestive themes, Astarion being a menace to society, Astarion being a brat, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff

❤️Love it? Hate it? Tell me what you think! ❤️

If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to send me a message or leave a comment!

The afternoon sunlight brushed warmly against your cheek as you enjoyed a rare moment of peace. Instead of running around Baldur's Gate, fixing buildings, helping those in need, the Hero of the Gate for once decided to read a newspaper in a park. Something quite mundane for some, a rare luxury for you.

You were not slacking. But you have come to realise that in your bid to please everyone you would soon completely burn out. Which is why you didn’t feel a smidge of guilt when you found yourself going to Bloomridge park instead of the Upper City.

Not having to make any decisions and just simply be for an hour felt absolutely heavenly. Children played, the members of the book club gossiped, and couples whispered among themselves. This was exactly what you loved about this city. No matter how much havoc was wrought, Baldur's Gate healed rapidly and would soon be back to its former glory.

You cast your eyes over the articles in the newspaper. Nothing special, thank the gods. Just silly gossip and the like. You quickly looked through it and gave a happy sigh. No news was always good news in your books!

Yet, no matter how pleasant this little break was, you were well aware that your assistance was needed at ten odd locations today. It was time to get back to work.

Getting up, you looked at the newspaper in your hands and decided that perhaps someone would enjoy reading it. Afterall, there was hardly any reason for you to take the paper with you. And leaving it behind would probably save some poor apprentice a copper. Thus assured that you were doing no harm, you folded the newspaper up neatly and set it down on the park bench for another to enjoy.

Just as you were about to walk away, you heard someone clear their throat loudly.

"What do you think you are doing?"

It was one of the Fists. You didn't recognise him. Perhaps it was a new recruit, seeing as otherwise he would have known who you were.

"Excuse me?"

"You are littering," he stated, pointing to the newspaper with an accusatory finger.

Ah, so a simple misunderstanding.

"I am not littering,” you smiled pleasantly, in spite of feeling that it was rather strange of the Fist to worry about something as inconsequential as litter out of all things. “Just thought someone else might enjoy reading the paper now that I'm done with it."

The Fist did not look impressed by your explanation. In fact, if anything he seemed even more set in his belief that a heinous crime was being committed in broad daylight.

"I am arresting you for littering in a public garden," he seemed to think about it for a moment. "And for arguing with a city guard."

"I've hardly said any-"

"Resisting arrest, are we?" he drawled, making your mouth tighten as you bit back a snarky retort.

"No, I will come with you willingly," you grumbled.

Perhaps if you played along for a bit, you could talk to someone of a higher rank. Saying anything to an overly eager guard who was obstinately sticking to his accusations would just attract onlookers.

"Good. The judge is waiting for your arrival."

"What? What do you mean judge?" you frowned. What business did any judge have looking into misdemeanours and especially something like littering?

"His Honor Judge Ancunín is waiting for you. Don't dawdle. It's rude to keep him waiting."

Suddenly all of this made sense. You ground your teeth and followed the Fist. Of course it was Astarion! That ass!

"Oh, trust me. Him waiting for me will be the least of his worries once I see him."

You felt that you had every right to be annoyed at Astarion. No scratch that. You had every right to be livid and spitting fire! Because this was the fourth time that bastard got you arrested in a little more than a month! And every single bloody time if was for something dumb and trivial. You had no idea how Astarion managed to do it, how he knew exactly where you would be, and how he convinced those Fists that he was to be the judge handling your case.

That stupid, stupid ass!

He couldn’t just come by the tavern and talk to you like someone normal. No, he needed a show of power, especially with him being promoted to judge in high court! Because apparently this was how Astarion got his kicks nowadays. He needed for you to be near forcibly escorted to the courtroom and thrown at his feet. Preferably pleading for mercy and asking him if there was any way that you could make it up to him.

You scowled. The whole scenario just sounded like the plot of some cheap, third-rate smutty novel one would pick up at Sharess'. But if he thought that you would cower before him, that elf had another thing coming!

On the other side of the city, Astarion Ancunín was drumming his fingers against some book he was supposedly reading. Astarion was in a foul mood. It's been several months since the defeat of the Absolute. He and the merry band that defeated the cultists were celebrated just as you deserved for about a tenday, and then went back to your lives. Halsin was immediately off with his wagonfuls of brats, Gale returned to Waterdeep, Shadowheart went to live with her parents in the countryside, Wyll and Karlach waged war in Avernus whilst Lae’zel sought to overthrow Vlaakith. In short, everyone left the city except you and Astarion. Well, Jaheira and Minsc were probably about, but he didn’t care about them enough to check.

For a while, Astarion enjoyed the privileges that came with the title of Savior of Baldur's Gate. The fame had him moving up the ranks with impressive speed until he was promoted from magistrate to judge. No more minor cases! Oh no, he was in the big leagues now. And he was so, so bored.

Astarion could hardly believe that this dull, bureaucratic crap was all he did for years until he got tadpoled. And in the past, he enjoyed it well enough. But having experienced the thrill of adventure, the rush of adrenalin, the drama and the fun of travelling, he could not fathom sitting at a desk for the rest of his long, long life.

Which was when he realised that the only acceptable source of entertainment was you. Except getting to you was easier said than done. Everyone wanted your time and, being the annoyingly selfless creature that you were, it was near impossible to find any window of opportunity and see you for longer than a few minutes. And by the gods Astarion wanted to.

You two shared a couple passionate encounters when you were on the road and decided that you were better of as friends. Well, at least you decided that. Astarion was not quite on board with the whole platonic thing, but with death literally being around every corner, he begrudgingly agreed that a budding romance was the last thing you both needed at the time.

And this was how the two of you became friends. Except Astarion wanted more, so much more. And herein lay the problem. He never in the past had to woo anyone. His good looks and roguish charms were generally enough to have everyone chasing after him. An interested look and a smirk would often be enough for his potential lovers to drop their pants fast.

But this tactic, if one could really call it that, didn’t actually work on you. And he tried showing his interest. Astarion invited you on outings and to parties. Afterall, there were soiree aplenty where he his resplendent beauty would definitely be reason enough for you to want to sneak away and spend some quality time in some secluded alcove. Except yoh would actually have to turn up for that to happen.

Not deterred, Astarion tried sending you gifts and you sent him something equally pleasant back. Which he interpreted as 'thanks for the present, but not for the interest'. This had him gritting his teeth in annoyance but surprisingly not giving up.

Because he wanted, and craved and yearned. He wanted nothing more than sequester you in his rooms and not allow you to leave for weeks. Or until he felt that he fucked that whole ‘friendship’ idea out of your mind.

And this was when Astarion remembered that he was, in fact, the law and you had no choice but to obey him. A small voice in the back of his mind chose to remind him how badly this could backfire. Astarion chose not to heed the warnings of said voice and immediately began plotting.

So he abused his power in every way, had you arrested time and time again, dragged through the city and thrown into prison to await his judgement. You should have been flattered really that he went to all that trouble simply to arrange a meeting. Honestly, most wanted nothing more than to have a passing glance from him, when you had the entirety of his attention!

Except something seemed different this time. When you walked into the courtroom and levelled him with a look previously reserved for your enemies, Astarion wondered if perhaps his plan was not quite as foolproof as he had thought.

But it was too late to back out. He assumed a sort of casually reclining bored noble position and waited for the Fist to read out what you were being charged with.

It was a surprisingly long list. Perhaps Astarion should have chosen a less zealous guard.

As each wrongdoing was reported to him, Astarion couldn’t help but worry about the way your face darkened by the minute as your eyes shot daggers. He was quite sure that it would have been actual steel piercing his flesh by now if it weren’t for all those witnesses.  

“Enough,” he lifted his arm with an imperious look, making the Fist pause, only half-done with his report.

“Your Honor?”

“I see that this matter does indeed require my special attention. Yet, seeing as this is the Hero of the Gate,” he paused for dramatic effect noting with annoyance that this seemed to have the desired effect only on the scribe, the Fist and whatever staff were about rather than you, “I may be persuaded to lift the charges.”

“How generous of you…. Your Honor,” you said in a reverent tone that contradicted your face expression.

Astarion gulped, to his confusion feeling both concerned and aroused.

"Well,” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, “I am nothing but generous."

"Of course. And earnest too!" you nodded. “Why, I am sure that your impartial perspective will allow you to deliver an objective verdict-"

"You forget yourself!” Astarion cut you off abruptly. He rather enjoyed your insolence, but appearances had to be kept up. “Justice should be a harsh lesson. To make sure that no such offense occurs in the future. I ought to administer the punishment where you stand. Make an example of you."

"Well, what are you waiting for, your Honour?” You leaned forward slightly and lowered your voice. “Punish me as you see fit."

Astarion thanked every god he could think of at that moment that he was required to wear loose fitting robes. Because he was already half-mast and carrying on with this conversation would eventually make his problem rather obvious to all present. That would be the Fist, the mages, the scribe, and whoever else was milling about that he generally did not notice. Wholly unacceptable.

"Do follow me, no guards required, thank you."

"But- but your Honor!” the Fist stammered, clutching the report to his chest. “What if she tries to assault you!"

"Trust me, I am perfectly capable of handling this one."

He pretended not to notice you rolling your eyes, motioning for you to follow as he started for his office.

You made your way down the long, winding halls, quite sure that you would be lost if it wasn’t for Astarion. Every now and then the surface of the walls would ripple, and a clerk would emerge from the depths of a secret passage and shuffle past, head bowed and curling in on themselves, only to sink into the opposite wall. If you were to press your fingertips against the surface, you were sure that you would find solid stone.

The narrow hallway widened and you walked into what appeared to be the archive, shelves filled with scrolls, stone tablets and books. A veritable cornucopia of every kind of crime carefully recorded and catalogued over centuries. You scowled as you thought of how your supposedly atrocious crimes were among the entries.

You walked up two flights of stairs and finally reached the door to what seemed to be Astarion’s office. The elf opened the door and stood aside, letting you walk in first. You scoffed and pushed past him, making a show of flicking your hair in his face. Astarion drew back a little with a grin, anticipating you doing something so childish.

The door clicked closed behind you and immediately magic hummed to life.

"Arcane Lock? Really?" you arched an eyebrow.

 "Just so we don't get disturbed, dearest."

Your eyes followed Astarion as he walked around his desk and sat in the beautifully upholstered chair. Just like everything else in his office, it looked eye-wateringly expensive and imported.

"How may I help you on this fine day?" he motioned for you to take a seat on the other side of the desk.

"How may you-"

You cut yourself off and took a few deep breaths before you said something terse that would get thrown into prison. Again. You took a seat, noticing immediately that your chair looked much less comfortable. Trust Astarion to make his company squirm in their seats.

"Astarion, I think-"

"Your Honor," he corrected you with a smirk.

"Fine, whatever! Tell me, oh great Judge Ancunín, ignoring the abuse of power, the made up charges and you potentially bribing the city guard into arresting me, what are you actually hoping to get out of this, hm?"

Astarion took off his glasses and started polishing them with careful, unhurried movements. Outwardly he was the epitome of calm and grace, the one in charge. Inwardly, however, he didn’t have a clue what to do now that he had your full, undivided attention.

Because eloquence in the courtroom apparently did not translate into eloquence with you. Astarion was kind of hoping that you would just somehow fall into his arms and then the two of you would forget about the battle of wits in favour of something far more engaging. But apparently you wanted a real, honest answer. And that would be tricky seeing as he didn’t know how to put what he felt into words.

The silence stretched, tensions high, your patience almost at its end.

"Do you know what? Fine,” you spat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don't answer that. It was stupid of me to think that you would treat me as a friend. I'm just going to pay a fine or whatever else I have to do and be out of your hair. You obviously have better things to do around here than talk to my lowly self."

"I never wanted to be your friend,” he interjected, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

"Well," you cleared your throat, annoyed at yourself for feeling hurt by his words. "You've made that plenty obvious."

Understanding that you misinterpreted his words, Astarion quickly grasped your sleeve as you prepared to rise.

"I- I am not sure exactly what I want,” he frowned, looking down at the polished wood of his desk.  “I have very little experience of wanting to be around others for the sake of enjoying their company. Getting acquainted with someone was always done with one purpose in mind, to climb the social ladder until I came out on top," he gave a little high-pitched laugh, running his fingers through his hair to brush it back.

"So when it comes to you, my dear, the last thing I want is to be your friend,” he took a deep breath, letting go of your sleeve to interlace his fingers to stop himself from fidgeting. “I have never wanted to be just friends with anyone less in my life.”

“And I don't know what you are to me,” he took a breath to summon the courage to carry on. “But when I look at you, I ache. We are good together. There is a potential for... something wonderful,” he did look up then, eyes locking with yours. “And I want to find out what that is, if you want that too."

You were stunned, momentarily speechless. Looking at him as if you were seeing him properly for the first time. Because it has been so long since you've seen that raw, earnest expression on his face. Body language filling in whatever blanks that were left behind by words.

"Oh hells, say something," he pleaded and put his hands on top of yours.

And then you were in his lap and your lips were on his, because you would be lying to yourself if you did anything but kiss him at that moment.

"You are still an ass," were the first words out of your mouth when you broke apart.

"Yes, dear," he kissed you jaw and then down your neck.

"I can't believe you had me arrested!"

"And I probably will again if you take days to answer my letters or otherwise ignore me," Astarion was already done with the ties of your outer clothing, discarding them by throwing them carelessly somewhere behind you.

"Do you know how embarrassing it was to be escorted to the courthouse? I bet newspapers will have a field day with this!"

"And any journalist who writes a word about this will be brought before me."

You tried to get his robes off him but were having trouble with the diamond encrusted broach holding the cravat in place.

"Argh, why do you insist on decorating yourself with all of these useless baubles!"

"Well, someone has to support the local businesses. You do your bit to see Baldur's Gate restored, I do mine."

"Oh, shut up," you laughed, finally getting a glimpse of his chest and running your hands down soft skin with a sigh.

"Feeling happier dear?"

You felt a breeze on your shoulders and then Astarion's hands cupped your breasts.

"No, I'm still annoyed at you."

"Well then I must double my efforts."

Clerks scuttled about the endless, winding halls, each wanting to impress their superiors.

A loud thump was heard, and a tremor reverberated throughout the building, making the panes of glass zing in protests.

A young human clerk gasped, "What in the hells is going on?"

"Judge Ancunín is questioning the Hero of Baldur's Gate," another replied with a yawn, seemingly not worried.

"This sounded bad, do you think he will need a hand?"

"What, ya mean since his own hands are full?"

The other clerks tittered, picking up scrolls and putting them back on the shelves.

"Oi, stop being mean to the newbie!" someone called from a distance.

"Or be even more of an ass and let him barge in, that would be even more entertaining," a tiefling chortled without looking up from his scroll.

"So, no one is in danger?" He said slowly, not really sure whether he was meant to ignore whatever was going on during an interrogation.

"Nope, in fact, I'm pretty sure that next couple of days are going to be easy," the tiefling took another scroll and added it to the pile in front of him.

Another tremor went through the building, making an ink pot fall off the desk.

"What do you think is going on there?" the young clerk whispered to the co-worker that seemed fairly friendly, unlike the rest.

"Aw crap, don't tell me that no one explained the birds and the bees to you yet?"

"Oh. Oh!" He gasped, a blush dusting his cheeks as realisation set in.

A halfling carrying thick tomes past his desk stage-whispered to no one in particular, "This one is not the sharpest quill, right?"

"Shit! Code Arsehole! Judge Buttershed is in our wing!"

An elf burst in, every head turning in his direction. The clerks stopped laughing, one hurrying down the hall towards Judge Ancunín’s office whilst the rest got to work with impressive speed.

"Why are you even covering for Judge Ancunín?"

The tiefling rolled his eyes at the newbie but graciously chose to reply.

"Because in spite of his eccentric ways and borderline obsession with the Hero of the Gate, he is the best we've had in years! Do you want to have to rewrite all your scrolls because your handwriting is neither here nor there?"

"Gods, do you remember the 'no use of magic above Level 1 in governmental buildings’?"

"Pft, that was nothing,” a handsome elf with long hair put up in a severe, tight chignon scoffed. “I heard they used to have gremishkas just to make sure no one used magic on site.”

"He's here!"

Most would not understand what the commotion was even about. To a casual observer, Judge Buttershed would appear fairly unremarkable. Just a short, portly man with a sweaty face and capricious expression whose spectacles were woefully unfashionable even a century ago. His whole demeanour screamed that he disliked everyone in this room immensely and could not wait to go back to his wing, where according to him things were still done the right way, and settle into his chair in his office.

"I heard that Ancunín was late for court yesterday. Again. Although, judging by the disorder I see here,” he boomed, a little spittle flying forth, “this is of little surprise. Therefore, I feel it is my duty to give him a stern talk."

"Considering his status, your Honour, is that wise?”

Judge Buttershed looked down his nose at the half-elf who dared contradict him.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do? I will make sure to fire you first once Ancunín is out of here,” he pointed a fat finger at the clerk.

Expecting to see fear and reverence in forest-green eyes and finding neither, he cursed under his breath and made his way down the hall, muttering to himself and shooting hard looks at whoever happened to cross his path.

Thus assured that he was doing the only thing that would save Baldur’s Gate judicial system from collapse, Buttershed burst through the doors, all righteous anger, ready to deliver his judgement. Only to find his rival and the Hero of the Gate sipping tea, engaged in amicable conversation.

“Oh? To what do I owe the honour Buttershed?” Astarion quirked a brow. “What was important enough for you to barge into my office without making an appointment with my secretary?”

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way, you- you- charlatan! You know full well that you have no business sullying these halls with your disgusting presence!”

“Astarion? Who is this? I will make sure to mention him the next time I pay a visit to Duke Ravengard,” your voice was pleasant enough but the look you levelled the intruder with spoke volumes. “In fact, I was going to call on Ulder tomorrow. Luckily, with us being old friends and all, I hardly need to bother to make an appointment!”

Judge Buttershed was defeated, and he knew it. Whilst he was prepared to take on Ancunín, feeling that he could successfully make a case and prove that the elf committed professional misconducts, the Supreme Marshall of the Flaming Fists was not someone to trifle with. Bidding his farewells to you only, he left the room in a flurry of silk and barely concealed complaints muttered under his breath.

“Now, my dear. That was most impressive,” Astarion purred, taking a sip of tea.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you shrugged, picking out a particularly scrumptious-looking biscuit and happily crunching on it. And then selecting one more, wondering if Astarion would mind terribly if you took the rest with you.

“I mean, you accuse yours truly, saying that I abuse my power. But are you any better?” he set his cup aside to place a kiss on the corner of your lips, your cheek and under your jaw. “It’s nice to know that the heroes are as bad as the rest of us.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Astarion,” you popped the biscuit into your mouth with a smile. “Now then, I must leave. Seeing as I missed most of my appointments for today and have to reschedule, don’t expect to see me for a while.”

His hands tightened round your middle, head resting in the crook of your neck.

“Must you leave?”

“For now. But I will make sure to come by in the next few days or so, okay? I miss you when I’m not around you,” you admitted, looking at him from underneath long lashes. “But there is so much to be done still… I feel selfish. For feeling so happy.”

Ah. And that was your most vexing quality that he exploited so readily when you first started travelling together. Your damnable selflessness. He loved you for it. He hated that you extended it to others.

Astarion sighed into your shoulder and withdrew. You felt the absence of his warmth so acutely that it took all your willpower to turn around and walk out of his door at that moment.

Astarion got you arrested on five more occasions before he finally summoned the courage to ask you to move in with him. Not for any particular reason. You were barely home as it was, so did it really matter which space you cluttered up with your armour and such? Which corner you tossed your boots in at the end of a long, tiring day?

Astarion, of course, being quite meticulous, made sure to organise your things for you. He began by colour-coding your undergarments drawer. To which he got a mixed response, considering he expected nothing but enthusiasm and gratitude.

A year into you living together, Astarion tossed a book onto your shared bed with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Dearest, I got you this. Considering you might not have enough reading material.”

“The ‘Court of Love’? Let me guess, you saw the title of this smutty little number and just couldn’t pass by?”

“Something like that. Would you indulge me by reading out a passage or two whilst I get ready to retire for the night?”

You narrowed your eyes. Something seemed off.

“What are you up to, Astarion?”

“My love! Your suspicions wound me!” Astarion crawled onto the bed and leaned against the bedframe.

You didn’t trust him for one second, but decided to play along for now, being a little curious yourself.

“The culprit was dragged in front of the magistrate. Her heavy breasts heaving with every laboured breath, nipples erect and pointing in his direction… Oh gods, this is terrible!” you chortled, making yourself comfortable and putting your head on Astarion’s bare chest.

“Isn’t it? Go on then, I want to hear what happens next,” he grinned, twirling a strand of your hair around his long fingers.

You giggled and turned the page.

“The magistrate rose in one swift movement, his eyes flashing and muscles flexing. He moved slowly, a predator circling his prey. Her eyes followed him, heart hammering as he breasts rose and fell with every breath, her nipples-  What is with this writer and nipples?” you rolled your eyes.

“Hot, isn’t it?”

Astarion was clearly having a whale of a time, though he seemed to be familiar with the text, his attention directed at you, as if wanting to make sure he caught every reaction, every expression.

“Are the nipples meant to be moving around so much? They could be out there directing foot traffic! I’m guessing that you picked this up at Sharess’?”

“Indeed, I did! And who are you to judge the quality of this book!” Astarion said with an air of a mother defending her child. “I’ll have you know, it was sold out in hours! I worked hard to get my hands on this copy!”

Then something clicked in your mind. You read the next two pages quickly.

“Magistrate Arunin and the Hero of the Coast? Astarion, is this based on us?” you looked at the cover at the book to check the name of the author. And sure enough, it was the Fist that arrested you for littering and then two more times after that.

“I’m going to kill him!” you growled, throwing the book on the floor. “And I don’t mean that in a cutesy way. I mean I will literally run my sword through him,” you pushed against Astarion’s chest. The elf gripped you tighter to stop you from leaving, as you were clearly intent on making good on your promise in spite of the late hour.

“Being a slave to the quill is truly a dangerous profession these days,” Astarion laughed, flipping you over and manoeuvring you so swiftly that you felt a little dizzy until he had you pinned against the bed.

“Now, whilst that murderous glint in your eyes is truly fetching, I think our energies would be better spent on each other rather than on some writer. Besides,” he went on, popping button after button open and pulling your shirt open slowly, fingers trailing along your skin, “I hear that he is planning on writing a sequel. And I find myself eager to read what depraved adventures the magistrate and the hero will get up to.”

Your words of outrage were quickly cut of by insistent lips as Astarion kissed you, tongue darting out through the smallest opening in his mouth to coax your own to open. And then there was no more talking, just groans and sighs, and gasps and moans.

As night bled into morning and you were fast asleep, Astarion congratulated himself on his usual practical sagacity, as once again his sound judgement resulted in an outcome most pleasant. Perhaps you were not keen on his brilliant plan at first, but you had no reasons to complain about his ways of going about getting what he wanted now.

And thus assured that he was always right, Astarion pulled you closer and closed his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

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[cotl-flower-crown]

How and why did Lamb fall in love with Narinder to the point that they got married and had children?

Besides, if we consider that Narinder was evil and just wanted to use her to return to the world of the living.

TLDR: Slow burn, very slow burn

Feel free to ready the wall of text I prepared below

Angel (the Lamb) ever since they met The One Who Waits, was deeply devoted to him, so when it was revealed that he had plans to sacrifice them, they were devastated. It took them a long time to approach the Gateway, hesitant to fulfill their purpose, but when they thought they were at peace with their fate, Angel finally met him there.

Their plan was to negotiate. Perhaps if Angel pleaded with him enough, they would spare him, but they could tell from the moment he opened his mouth that he was not open for negotiation. But Angel tried anyway. They tried convincing him that perhaps there is another way to free him and if there is one they would be happy to do so. But what The One Who Waits saw was weakness, he saw fear in his vessel's eyes as they looked at him and questioned their faith in him. Were they not as devoted as they claimed to be? No, they doubt his judgement. Him! The One Who Waits Himself! Their God! Such blasthemy could not stand! He called The Lamb out for their cowardice and shamed them for their lack of faith. He demanded for the final time that they kneel to him, so the prophecy could be fulfilled.

But Angel could not do what their God has demanded. Even their deviotion had its limits. Through out the whole journey to free him, Angel was encouraged to learn to stand up for themselves, even by him. And now he's demanding that they ignore all their teachings and bow to him. It all felt so wrong. If they are gone, what will become of her followers, what will become of the scraps of Sheep folk's culture that they hold in their heart? It will all be gone, THEY will be gone.

They could not stand for that. With tears streaming on their cheeks, they drew an axe and pointed it in his direction. "I cannot leave yet" they whimpered through their tears. And so the battle begun.

As it ended, Lamb had no idea that The One Who Waits would survive this battle and yet, there he was, laying in front of them. A stature not taller then theirs, not even able to hold himself on his legs. But he was alive. Their prayers and hopes were heard. A wave of relief washed over Angel's body, and while they still felt betrayed by their ex-God, they didn't have it in them to finish him off. So despite his protests, they brought him to their cult. They would decide on his fate later.

When brought to Lamb's cult, Narinder felt many emotions. Anger, disappointment, fear even. Mostly anger though. He was angry that his vessel betrayed him, that he's stuck in the cult now and stuck in this weak, needy body that cannot even stand on its own. Lamb would help him get back on his feet and he hated that the most. How long would it take for the Lamb to change their mind and finish off what they started? In the best case scenario, he will be killed, free from this mortal body, but in the worst scenario, they will imprison him again. He could not read their mind anymore, he couldn't even read their face, shrouded with unreadable cold disapproval. It was both unsettling and annoying.

For many months Narinder was dependant on Lamb's help to recover his ability to walk. They would help him stretch, accompany on his walks in case he falls over from his croutches, they were his personal assistant in a way, which without a doubt Narinder liked to abuse. But eventually he would learn to stop it, as such behavior was not acceptable among Lamb's followers. They did not take kindly to him making their leader cry and Narinder will forever remember the day those people locked him in prison and threw rotten food and excrements at him. He also remembers well the night when Lamb came to him to clean off the waste off of his head and let him out of the stocks. He knows that they enjoyed watching him being served with justice a little, they told him as much, but he couldn't help, but help feel relieved by their mercy. It's not something that he would do, that's for sure. Supposedly, it was a good reminder that even if Lamb is not keen on punishing him, they have no issues letting the others do the dirty work.

Angel's grief passed soon enough, seeing Narinder's legs getting better. Witnessing him be able to stand and walk on his own, run even, was the most joyous they have felt for a long time. Still he wasn't exactly in the best shape, so the regular walks were still mandatory. Lamb didn't have to accompany him anymore, but they still did to Narinder's distaste. They would not usually speak much, but when Lamb warmed up to him a little, they begun to try and start a conversation. Though Narinder would usually turn those attempts down and challenge Lamb's attitude, one day he insulted how the cult looks, and when asked what's wrong with it, he couldn't point out specifics and stammered that there's not enough red candles. Lamb took it upon themselves to fix that issue, partially out of spite. Begrudgingly he allowed Lamb to take that win. (Narinder's first quest)

Finally the time came when Narinder was well enough to start working. Lamb assigned him to work at the farm. As he worked around with the camelia flowers he mentions Leshy, before he gets back to work. Time passes and Lamb comes back to bring him the flowers, straight from Darkwood. He expresses how he didn't ask for them, but Lamb could see past his exterior, see that they made him a little happier.

Suspicious of Lamb's intentions Narinder challenges Lamb to go to Anura and bring him mushrooms unscaved. Angel teases him a little before the travel and brings him what he wished for. Then as they talk more, Nari sends them off to Archordeep, wishing to see their crystal walls crumbled. And when that's done, he quietly asks Lamb to bring him silk from Silk Cradle. He waited by the entrance as the Lamb came back from the crusade and handed him the silk. And they brought him tea as he at last allowed himself to process the grief.

Narinder grew attached to the Lamb as there was nobody else he would think of as a worthy company. Although he did not consider them a friend, nor anything of that matter. It was hard for him to describe what his usurper meant for him at that point, but he couldn't help but follow them if he wasn't at work or asleep. They would discuss the common topics, like the weather, the jobs, hobbies and their own health. While he didn't seem to let go of his grievances with Lamb, they noticed that he wasn't exactly angry about them either.

One day Narinder witnesses a follower's death for the XYZth time and he grows curious. He hasn't been exactly a regular attendant of Lamb's sermons and he wasn't planning to be, but he realised that he doesn't know all the rites the Lamb and their flock performs as well as he wished he did. He approaches the Lamb, admiting his apprehensions towards them as worthy of the crown, demanding in his usual fashion that they show the legacy of the new God of Death. Lamb did not plan to bring anyone back from the dead that day, but they will not turn down his challenge, if that mean that they can make him eat his words.

They did not expect a genuine praise though. It felt somewhat offputting to see Narinder laugh and sound proud talking of them. They were put off guard by it and Nari didn't blame them. He was surprised himself too, to the point that had to take a step back, but it was undeniable, he was proud to see that his vessel is continuing what he started. Perhaps they have some wits in them after all. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to attend their sermons more often.

Time passed and while Narinder grew to get used to his new home, the more he stayed there, the more trapped he felt. The cult grounds seem a lot smaller once you learn all their nook and crannies. He was itching to see more of what was left of the Lambs of the Old Faith after the millenia of imprisonment. Angel excouraged him to do so, but at the same time, they were worried for his safety. The outside world is dangerous and Narinder was no longer a powerful god. While it wouldn't be impossible to bring him back to life, Angel did not want to see him dead. They eventually figured out that giving him a company to make sure that he's alive would make them a lot calmer about the expedition. They decide that they will send their most experienced missionary with him. Meanwhile Narinder and Shepherd (one of Lamb's most loyal followers, the leading farmer and the missionary veteran) shared another petty interraction, which this time ended in a fight that Lamb needed to break off.

Later, Narinder learned that him and Shepherd would be stuck together on a mission. He was vocally not happy about it but did not fight it. A human shield is always in value.

They get through their shenanigans and end up becoming friends.

When they come back, Narinder is injured and seems like it got infected, but he insists that he's fine. He stops objecting when Shep fistbumps his arm (very much intentionally) and makes Nari speechless. Angel takes Nari to the med bay, and there Nari thanks Lamb (the end of the final quest)

So, by the time the quests are finished, Nari and Lamb are kinda like friends. Acquaintances, maybe. After that, Nari spends his time either working, sunbathing or hanging out with Shep and/or Lamb. Him and Shep turn into bros, but he doesn't really know what to think about the Lamb. They're ok in his eyes.

As the time went by from then on Nari developed a vague fondness of Angel as a companion. He's not in love or anything tho. Meanwhile Angel develops a little crush on him. They think he's cute the way he is now and they enjoy spending time with him. They don't try anything with him because they don't want to ruin their friendship, but they get jealous when someone else shows interest with him and they may contribute to his dwindling love life.

More time passes and Nari begins to develop feelings for Angel. He's very dismissive about it and denies when asked, but Lamb knows and they are very fond of him at that point and really wants to say something, but doesn't want to jump this ship only to later learn that he's not happy. They made that mistake before and they don't want to pressure him into anything so they wait for him to make a move.

Meanwhile Nari tries really hard to convince himself and everyone around that he doesn't like the Lamb, even though he gets very possessive over Lamb's attention and jealous when they speak fondly with anyone else. He also wants to kill people who just happen to have a crush on the Lamb or those critical of them. He's not sure why, but he can't help it.

Even more time passes, and it finally gets through Narinder's skull that, yes, he is in love with Angel, and it's not a hex. He realises it after him and Lamb share a dance among the crowd and after talking with Shep about it. He finally decides to start courting the Lamb, but the way he wanted to do it was to give his life to them, aka stabbing himself in front of them and Shepherd was like "NOPE, how about you try the more casual ways of courting instead?". So he tries the gifts first. Gifts that consist of bones, snake skins and dead critters. Because cat instincts. Shepherd tells him to stop and try something else. After some trial and errors Narinder decides to just stick with his original plan.

He meets Lamb at night when everyone else is asleep and Narinder begins with confessing, then he pulls out a sacrificial knife and aims it at his chest. Lamb stops him, saying that they don't want to see him dead, but Nari argues with "how am I supposed to accurately show you how strong my feelings are if I cannot give you my life" and Lamb is like "do it by being by my side, not like this" and then Nari lets go of the knife and complains that now he doesn't have any plan B and Lamb proposes for him to "court them like a mortal" by sharing a dance together. Nari complains that there is no music to dance to, but that is easily fixed by waking up one of the followers to play music for the two. They share a lovely soft slow dance that ends with them kissing.

They end up getting married soon after that. And after some time spent getting adjusted to married life, they decided to try for children for one reason or the other.

And that's that. Slow burn narilamb beloved <3