#tears of joy or despair?

[demolitionistic]

someone PLEASE spare me from these gay people

peem WHAT are you doing WHAT is going on

[vees-genshin-blog]

HSR really knows how to give me despair and happiness at the same time.

I initially sink 60 pulls for Topaz only to lose my 50/50 to Bronya, and I'm just sitting there in despair, wondering if I can get her and her lightcone.

Then I grab 5 single pulls with the starlight I get and within 2 single pulls, win my guaranteed Topaz 😭😭😭😭😭😭.

Now I just need her lightcone and I can start saving for Aventurine!!

[angstics]

guy who thinks all music is depressing

[thatsapphicsoprano]

Reading Persuasion for the first time and just finished reading Captain Wentworth’s letter…. brb sobbing

[mide404]

Greetings everyone,

Please save what's left of my family

In a tent that does not exceed (3×3 meters), my torn family lives a life filled with misery and suffering after being displaced by the war. The tent, which my brother built from a pile of scrap, has become their home after their simple house was demolished. When you look at it, you see colonies of sadness that have taken over that enclosed space, a place heavy with grief and turbulent pain. A life torn between a reality full of distress and sad scenes, spoken by the worn-out fabrics of that tent in the book of (Pain and Suffering).

When you look at my brother, my mother, and my sisters, you feel as if all the calamities of the world have fallen upon them as they struggle in vain to adapt to living after the extinguishment of my father’s spirit, their beacon of strength.

The harsh circumstances of life overwhelmed my family after the innocent souls of my brother's daughter and my sister's daughter were claimed by the merciless grip of conflict. What followed was displacement, hardship, and despair. Their world darkened when they found themselves homeless, suffering from exhaustion at times and from distress at others. They endure the harshness of life, living under the scorching sun with nothing to protect them but a pile of scrap.

This is what my family is enduring in the tent—a harsh and unparalleled tragic situation. Sadness engulfs their bodies, smiles have turned into tears, joy into disaster, and peace into panic. It feels as if the earth has narrowed around them as they have lost the ability to live in safety and peace and to provide the best living conditions for themselves.

@punkitt-is-here @sar-soor @pcktknife @blackpearlblast @ibtisams @90-ghost @flor4zul @opencommunion @nabulsi

I, Mahmoud Saleh, plead with you to look upon my torn and displaced family with compassion and give them the opportunity to continue their lives in peace. I stand before these compassionate hearts with all hope to help what remains of my family and provide them with a better living condition so they can enjoy safety and peace.

Please donate if you can and share our story widely as you're able to🙏🙏

[aquitainequeen]

Here I am, hours later, still crying about Furiosa and Praetorian Jack. George Miller, Nico Lathouris, Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke are geniuses. They completely sold me on just how much these characters loved each other.

Furiosa coming out of a nightmare, wielding a knife, to be caught by Jack. He doesn’t say it’s all right or that she’s safe, she doesn’t say it was just a bad dream. They don’t say anything. Jack eases her back down to her cot and they settle down, aware of each other.

Jack stitching up Furiosa’s shoulder in a hidden spot in the Citadel, Furiosa showing Jack the peach seed that she’s kept hidden in her hair for so long, proving that the Green Place is out there, asking him to come with her, pressing her forehead to his while cupping the back of his head, showing him her love in the manner of her people, and him returning the gesture. After fifteen years, she’s finally going home, and he’s coming with her.

And then...

Spoilers beyond here!!!

And then:

The battle of the Bullet Farm, which is where the strength and force of their love really started to batter me. Furiosa manages to avoid the ambush and get out of the Farm before the gate closes, and Jack could easily have slipped through the gate to join her, but he sees the enemy forces mustering and knows they’ll quickly be hunted down if there's nothing to stop their pursuers. He shoots off a green flare that clearly tells Furiosa to abandon him and get the hell out of there, intending to sacrifice himself so that she has a chance to escape and set off for the Green Place. Furiosa does drive off, but gets maybe five metres before she decides ‘fuck this’ and goes back in to try and save him. And she saves him from his pursuers and she saves him from falling to his death, and they get to their escape vehicle and drive off, with nary a word spoken or exchanged until they’re on the flat and heading for freedom. And even then, all that’s mentioned is what direction they should take to reach the Green Place. That's it. They don’t need anything else. They survived, they got out, they're together, they’re going to be all right.

And they almost make it. They almost get away.

When they’re captured by Dementus and forced onto their knees, there’s no special close up on them; mostly they’re on the edge of the shot while Dementus is ranting centre stage or screaming into their faces. They pay no heed to him. That love infuriates Dementus. He shrieks, he tears at them, but he can’t break them. He doesn’t matter. What matters is that they spend their last moments touching each other, leaning into each other, pressing their foreheads together, breathing deep, loving each other.

There are no parting words between Furiosa and Jack, no declarations or promises or screams of despair, but it hit me so hard and cut so deep that the second to last time we see Jack’s face, he’s craning desperately to see what’s happening to Furiosa, trying to get one final precious glimpse of her, before he’s quite literally dragged to his awful death.

We don’t see Furiosa’s reaction to her torture on multiple fronts, as she is strung up by her maimed arm and forced to watch Jack die. We’ve seen her scream and weep for her mother, but this moment is hers alone. It’s not for us.

How fitting it is that Jack saves Furiosa one last time, as his execution distracts Dementus and his crew from noticing that Furiosa has cut off her own arm to escape.

The last time we see Jack’s face is in Furiosa’s last nightmare.

Furiosa doesn’t mention Jack in her final showdown with Dementus, when she screams about her mother and her stolen childhood. But from what’s shown to us, I think that the spot in the Citadel when she imprisons Dementus and grows the peach tree in the midst of his emaciated, maggot-ridden body…is the same place where Jack stitched up her wounded shoulder, where she showed him the peach seed, where she asked him to come with her to the Green Place and he accepted, where she showed him her love in the manner of her people, where they embraced. Where she avenged herself and Jack, upon the man who destroyed their lives.

Where Furiosa now plucks the first fruit of the tree to bring to the Five Wives, whom she will bring with her to the Green Place.   

[its-avalon-08]

don't walk away from me (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, neglect, alot of tears, fluff, it's super long

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, her heart racing and hands trembling as she stared at the small, white plastic stick in her hand. Two faint pink lines stared back at her, confirming what she had both feared and hoped for. She was pregnant.

Tears welled up in her eyes as a whirlwind of emotions swirled within her—fear, joy, uncertainty. She and Lando had been together for five years, but they had never discussed having children. Not seriously, at least. She had always imagined they would have this conversation when they were both ready, when the timing was perfect. But now, the reality of her situation hit her like a ton of bricks.

She placed the pregnancy test on the nightstand and hugged her knees to her chest, trying to calm herself. The house was eerily quiet, amplifying her anxiety. She glanced at the clock. Lando would be home soon. How was she going to tell him? What if he didn't want this? What if he wasn't ready?

The sound of the front door opening and closing pulled her out of her thoughts. She wiped her tears away and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead.

"Y/N, I'm home," Lando called out from downstairs.

She stood up, her legs feeling shaky, and walked to the top of the stairs. "Lando, can you come up here for a second?"

His footsteps echoed through the house as he made his way up the stairs. When he reached the bedroom door, he gave her a curious look. "What's up?"

Y/N bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. "I need to talk to you about something. Something important."

Lando's expression shifted to concern as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "Okay, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence. Lando's eyes widened, and his face went pale. "What? How?"

Y/N's tears started to flow again. "I don't know, Lando. It just happened. I'm scared too, but we need to talk about this."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. "This can't be happening right now. I'm not ready for this. We have our whole lives ahead of us, our careers. A baby wasn't part of the plan."

Her heart shattered at his words. "I know it's unexpected, but we can figure it out together. We love each other, don't we? We can make this work."

He stopped pacing and turned to face her, anger and frustration etched on his face. "I don't want a baby right now, Y/N. This isn't what I signed up for. How could you let this happen?"

She flinched at his harsh tone, her tears flowing freely. "It's not like I planned this, Lando. You are equally as responsible as I am. But it's happening, and we need to deal with it. Together."

He shook his head, his voice rising. "No, you need to deal with it. I can't handle this right now. I'm not ready to be a father."

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken fears and shattered dreams. Y/N's heart ached as she realized the depth of his feelings. She had hoped for support, for understanding, but instead, she felt more alone than ever.

"Lando, please," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "We can figure this out. We can make it work."

He looked at her with a mix of anger and despair. "I can't, Y/N. I just can't."

With those words, he turned and left the room, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house. Y/N collapsed onto the bed, her sobs wracking her body. She had never felt so lost, so scared, so heartbroken.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she tried to compose herself. Lando’s reaction had been worse than she had imagined, and now he stood in front of her, pacing back and forth, his face contorted with frustration and disbelief.

"I thought you would fight for us. For me," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Lando stopped pacing and turned to face her, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "Fight for us? Y/N, do you even understand what this means? My career, all of it—derailed! I’ve worked my entire life to get to this point, and now this?"

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him, her heart aching with every word he said. "Are you even listening to me, Lando? This isn’t just about you. This is our baby. Our future. You can’t just push this away because it’s inconvenient."

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Inconvenient? Y/N, it’s more than inconvenient! It’s a complete upheaval of everything we’ve built. Everything I’ve built. How can you expect me to just accept this?"

She stood up, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Because I love you, Lando! And I thought you loved me too. I thought we were in this together, no matter what."

He shook his head, his eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall. "I do love you, but this… this is too much. I’m not ready to be a father. I’m not ready for any of this."

Y/N took a step closer to him, her eyes pleading. "And you think I am? You think I wanted this to happen right now? But it did, and we have to deal with it. We have to face it together. Isn’t that what love is about?"

Lando’s voice softened, but his words still cut deep. "I’m scared, Y/N. I don’t know if I can do this."

Her heart shattered at the vulnerability in his voice, but she couldn’t let go of the anger and hurt that had built up inside her. "I’m scared too, Lando. But running away isn’t going to solve anything. We have to face this, together."

He looked away, his jaw clenched. "I need time to think. I can’t do this right now."

Y/N felt a surge of anger and desperation. "Time? We don’t have time, Lando. This is happening now, whether we’re ready or not. And I need you to be with me in this. I need you to fight for us."

He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his emotions. "I don’t know if I can."

Her voice softened, but the pain was still evident. "Please, Lando. Don’t give up on us. Don’t give up on me."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of love and fear. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I just… I can’t."

With those words, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart broken and her world turned upside down. She sank to the floor, her sobs echoing through the empty house.

In that moment, she realized that she was truly alone. She had hoped that their love would be strong enough to overcome any obstacle, but now she faced the harsh reality that sometimes, love wasn’t enough. But even in her despair, she knew she would fight for her baby. She would fight for the future she believed in, with or without Lando.

Because in the end, the love she had for her child was stronger than any fear, stronger than any heartbreak. And she would not let that love be derailed, no matter what.

The reality of her situation settled over her like a heavy blanket. She was pregnant, and the man she loved was not ready to face it with her. She was alone in this, and the path ahead seemed impossibly difficult.

But as she lay there, crying into the pillows, a steely resolve began to form within her. She would do whatever it took to protect and care for her child. She would find a way to make it work, with or without Lando.

a few hours later

Lando stood in the empty living room, the silence around him deafening. His eyes scanned the room, confusion and panic setting in as he noticed the absence of Y/N’s belongings. His heart raced as he hurried up the stairs to their bedroom, only to find it stripped of her presence. The closet doors hung open, her clothes gone, and the drawers emptied.

A notification buzzed on his phone, pulling him out of his frantic thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see a large deposit in his bank account. He froze, realizing what it meant. He rushed back downstairs, where a table was neatly stacked with items—clothes, jewelry, and gifts he had bought for Y/N over the years. Everything was returned, methodically placed as if to signify the end of their relationship.

Lando’s breath caught in his throat. He had never felt so lost, so utterly regretful. His mind raced back to their fight, his harsh words echoing in his ears. He had pushed her away, and now she was gone. Completely.

The doorbell rang, jolting him from his thoughts. He opened the door to find Carlos standing there, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment. Behind him, Rebecca stood with a comforting hand on Carlos’ shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Lando asked, his voice hollow.

Carlos stepped inside, his eyes blazing. “I’m here because Y/N needs someone to look after her. Clearly, that’s not you anymore.”

Lando’s heart sank. “Carlos, I made a mistake. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Carlos’s jaw tightened. “A mistake? Lando, you didn’t just make a mistake. You broke her heart. You left her alone when she needed you the most.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears. “I know, and I regret it. Please, just let me see her. Let me make things right.”

Carlos shook his head firmly. “No, you don’t get to see her. Not after what you did. She’s devastated, Lando. Do you understand that? She’s completely heartbroken.”

Lando’s voice cracked. “I didn’t know what to do. I was scared.”

Carlos’s anger flared. “And you think she wasn’t? You think she didn’t need you to be strong for her, to stand by her side? You were supposed to be her partner, and you abandoned her.”

Lando buried his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. “I know. I know I messed up. But I love her, Carlos. I love her so much.”

Carlos softened slightly but kept his guard up. “Love isn’t just words, Lando. It’s actions. And your actions showed her that she can’t rely on you. That she can’t trust you to be there for her.”

Rebecca stepped forward, her voice gentle yet firm. “Y/N needs time, Lando. She needs to heal. Right now, the best thing you can do is give her space and let her process everything.”

Lando looked up, his eyes pleading. “Please, just tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I love her and that I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Carlos’s gaze softened, but his resolve remained. “She knows, Lando. But it’s going to take more than words to fix this. It’s going to take time and a lot of effort on your part. And right now, the best thing for her is to be surrounded by people who will support her and help her heal.”

Lando nodded, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. “I understand. Please, just take care of her. Tell her I’m here, waiting, whenever she’s ready.”

Carlos and Rebecca turned to leave, but Carlos paused, his face filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “I thought you would stick around, Lando. I thought you’d be there for her, no matter what. But now, she’s alone because of you.”

Lando felt the weight of Carlos’s words hit him like a punch to the gut. “I never wanted this, Carlos. I never wanted to hurt her.”

Carlos shook his head, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Intentions don’t matter when your actions speak louder. She needed you, and you walked away. Now she’s left to pick up the pieces on her own.”

As the door closed behind them, Lando sank to the floor, his heart aching with the weight of his mistakes. He had a long road ahead of him, and he knew that earning Y/N’s forgiveness and trust would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. But for her, he was willing to do whatever it took.

Because he couldn’t bear the thought of a future without her, and he would fight to make things right, no matter how long it took.

--

Carlos carefully helped Y/N settle into his guest room, ensuring she had everything she needed. He placed her suitcase at the foot of the bed and fluffed the pillows before turning to her with a gentle smile.

“Mi niña, if you need anything, just let me know, okay?” he said softly, his voice full of warmth and concern.

Y/N nodded, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She tried to put on a brave face, but the moment Carlos wrapped her in a comforting hug, she broke down completely, sobbing into his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N,” Carlos whispered, rubbing her back soothingly. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

She clung to him, her body shaking with each sob. “I-I don’t know what to do, Carlos. It hurts so much.”

He held her tighter, his heart breaking at the sight of her pain. “I know, mi niña. I know it hurts. But you’re not alone. We’re here for you. Rebecca and I, we’ll take care of you.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I just… I thought he would fight for us. For me.”

Carlos gently wiped away her tears, his expression one of deep sorrow and fierce protectiveness. “Lando made a mistake, and he’s going to regret it. But right now, you need to focus on yourself and the baby. You’re strong, Y/N. You’re going to get through this.”

She nodded, trying to believe his words. “Thank you, Carlos. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re like a little sister to me. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, finding comfort in his unwavering support. “I just feel so lost.”

Carlos held her close, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re not lost, mi niña. You’re just finding a new path. And you have us to help you every step of the way.”

Rebecca entered the room quietly, carrying a tray with a cup of tea and some snacks. She placed it on the bedside table and joined them, wrapping her arms around Y/N as well.

“We’re going to take care of you,” Rebecca said softly. “You’re family to us, Y/N.”

Surrounded by their love and support, Y/N felt a small glimmer of hope. She still had a long road ahead of her, but with Carlos and Rebecca by her side, she knew she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Carlos pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. “Remember, mi niña, you’re stronger than you think. And we’ll be here to remind you of that every day.”

Y/N managed a small smile, her heart feeling a little lighter. “I’ll try to remember that. Thank you, Carlos. Thank you, Rebecca.”

Rebecca squeezed her hand gently. “We’re here for you, every step of the way.”

As Y/N settled into bed that night, she felt a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in weeks. She knew the journey ahead would be difficult, but with the support of those who loved her, she believed she could find her way.

--

Over the next few months Lando was adamant in trying to prove to Y/N that he will be there for her.

first instance: the midnight voicemail

Lando sat in his car outside Y/N's apartment, his fingers trembling as he held his phone. He had been doing this every night for the past six months, just listening to her voicemail. It was his way of feeling close to her, even when she needed space.

“Hey, it’s me, Lando,” he started, his voice soft and full of emotion. “I just wanted to say goodnight. I know you’re probably asleep, but I hope you and the baby are doing well. I-I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you. I love you. my love.”

He ended the call, tears streaming down his face. He knew she might never listen to these voicemails, but it didn’t matter. It was his way of staying connected, of showing her he cared.

second instance: the doctor's appointment

Y/N sat in the waiting room, nervously tapping her foot. She glanced up as the door opened and Lando walked in, carrying a small bouquet of her favorite flowers. He smiled softly at her, his eyes filled with concern and love.

“I thought you might like these,” he said, handing her the flowers.

She took them, her heart warming at the gesture. “Thank you, Lan.”

They sat together, waiting for her name to be called. When it was time, Lando stood up, offering her his hand. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, feeling the warmth of his support.

During the appointment, he stayed by her side, asking the doctor questions and making sure she was comfortable. It was clear he was committed to being there for her and their baby, no matter what. Towards the end Y/N interlocked her fingers with his.

third instance: the late-night cravings

One night, Y/N woke up with a sudden craving for chocolate ice cream. She sighed, knowing it was late, but her craving was too strong to ignore. She was about to get dressed to go to the store when her phone buzzed.

A message from Lando: “Hey, just thinking about you baby. Do you need anything?”

She hesitated for a moment before replying, “Actually, yes. I’m craving chocolate ice cream. But it’s late, and I don’t want to bother you.”

Within minutes, her phone buzzed again. “On my way. Be there in 10.”

Ten minutes later, Lando knocked on her door, holding a bag with several tubs of chocolate ice cream. “I wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so I got a few different kinds,” he said with a sheepish smile.

Y/N’s heart swelled with gratitude. “Thank you, Lando. You didn’t have to do this. It means so much to me.”

He shrugged, his eyes full of warmth. “I want to. I want to be here for you, for both of you.”

fourth instance: the nursery

Lando had spent weeks secretly working on a nursery for their baby. He knew Y/N wanted to keep things simple, but he wanted to surprise her with something special. He enlisted the help of Carlos and Rebecca, who both supported him in his efforts to make things right.

One afternoon, he called Y/N and asked her to come over. When she arrived, he led her to the room that had once been his office. He opened the door, revealing a beautifully decorated nursery.

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes as she took in the sight. The walls were painted a soft, calming color, and there was a crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair. Everything was perfect.

“I wanted to show you that I’m committed to this, to our family,” Lando said, his voice full of emotion. “I know it’s just a room, but I hope it shows you how much I care.”

Y/N walked into the room, touching the crib and the soft blankets. “It’s beautiful, Lando. Thank you.”

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I promise.”

fifth instance: the ultrasound

The day of the ultrasound was a mix of excitement and nerves for Y/N. Lando had insisted on coming, even though he knew she still needed space. As they sat in the exam room, the technician prepped the equipment.

When the image of their baby appeared on the screen, Lando’s breath caught in his throat. Tears filled his eyes as he saw the tiny life they had created.

“That’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

Y/N looked at him, her own eyes filled with tears. “Yes, it is.”

He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you for letting me be here baby. I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world.”

--

Six months had passed, and Y/N knew Lando had done everything he could to prove his love and commitment. One evening, she found herself standing outside his apartment again, her heart pounding in her chest.

She knocked, and moments later, Lando opened the door, his eyes widening in surprise and hope. “Y/N,” he said softly, stepping aside to let her in. “Come in, please.”

She walked in, the familiar scent of his apartment washing over her. It felt like stepping back into a memory, a life that had once been hers.

Lando closed the door and turned to face her, his heart in his throat. “How are you feeling love?” he asked, his voice full of genuine concern.

She placed a hand on her growing belly, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’m doing okay. The baby’s doing well.”

He nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m glad. I’m so glad.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them. Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice steady but soft. “Lando, I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying. You’ve been there for me, even when I didn’t want you to be. And I appreciate it. I really do.”

He looked at her, his heart aching with regret and hope. “I’ll never stop trying, Y/N. I know I messed up, and I know I have a lot to make up for. But I love you. I love you and our baby, and I’ll do anything to prove that to you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she took a deep breath. “I know you will. I can see that now. And I’m ready to give us another chance.”

Lando’s breath hitched, and he took a tentative step closer to her. “You are?”

She nodded, wiping away a tear. “Yes. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m not saying I’m not still hurt. But I want to try. I want us to try.”

He closed the distance between them, gently taking her hands in his. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll do everything I can to make things right. I’ll never take you for granted again.”

She squeezed his hands, her eyes searching his. “I need you to understand that it’s not just about words, Lan. It’s about actions. I need to know that you’re in this for the long haul, that you’re committed to us, to our family.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with determination. “I am. I swear I am. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

She let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. “Okay. Then let’s do this. Together.”

Lando pulled her into a gentle hug, careful not to press too hard against her belly. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for giving me another chance. I won’t let you down.”

As they stood there, holding each other, the future seemed a little brighter, a little more hopeful. They had a long road ahead, but they were ready to face it together, hand in hand.

And for the first time in months, Y/N felt a sense of peace, knowing that they were going to be okay. That they were going to be a family. She was going to be with the man she loved and all was going to be right again.

the request -

[moonselune]

Hello! Could you write all the origin companions reaction to a tav who sacrificed themselves to save them? Whether or not tav gets revivified is up to you. Thank you! I hope you enjoyed your break!

yes yes yes, so this is going to be quite similar to the silly sacrifice one but I tried to focus more on the revivfy section kind of

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The battle had reached its peak, the air thick with the scent of blood and the clashing of steel. You and Karlach fought side by side, her infernal rage blazing like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. But then, in a split second, you saw the demon's sword arching towards her, aiming for a fatal blow. Without a second thought, you threw yourself in its path, the blade biting deep into your flesh.

The world seemed to slow as you fell to the ground, your vision darkening. Karlach’s roar of anguish cut through the din of battle. She fought with a renewed ferocity, dispatching the demon with a series of powerful blows, her eyes never leaving your fallen form.

“No, no, no!” she cried, dropping to her knees beside you, her hands shaking as she held your lifeless body. Tears streamed down her face, her fiery aura flickering as despair threatened to consume her. “You can't leave me like this! You can't!”

Desperation gave her strength as she pulled out a revivify scroll from her pack. Her hands were unsteady, but her resolve was ironclad. She chanted the incantation, pouring all her will into bringing you back. For a moment, nothing happened, and her heart nearly shattered.

Then, your chest heaved with a ragged breath, and your eyes fluttered open. Karlach's tears flowed even harder, but now they were tears of relief and joy. She cradled your face in her hands, her touch gentle despite her overwhelming strength.

“You scared me so much,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead against yours. “I thought I’d lost you for good. Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

You managed a weak smile, lifting a hand to brush away her tears. “I’m sorry, Karlach. I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

She held you close, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. “I love you so much,” she whispered fiercely. “And I need you with me. Always.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The night was filled with the sounds of battle, the clash of swords and the screams of the dying. You and Minthara moved as one, a deadly dance of blades and magic. But then, you saw it—the assassin, poised to strike Minthara from the shadows. Instinct took over, and you flung yourself in front of her, the blade intended for her plunging into your chest instead.

Minthara's eyes widened in shock and rage as you collapsed to the ground. She dispatched the assassin with ruthless efficiency, her movements swift and lethal. But as she knelt beside you, her expression shifted to one of desperate fear.

“No, you fool,” she hissed, her hands trembling as she reached for you, only to find your lifeless body. “Why did you do that?”

Minthara’s eyes flashed with anger and sorrow. She pulled out a revivify scroll, her voice steady but urgent as she recited the spell. The magic flowed from her fingertips, enveloping your body in a soft glow.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then, your chest rose with a shuddering breath, and your eyes opened. Minthara’s relief was palpable, but she quickly masked it with her usual stern expression.

“You think death can take you from me so easily?” she asked, her voice laced with mockery to hide the desperation she felt. “You’re mine, and only I decide when you go.”

"Wouldn't dream of it" You smiled weakly, the warmth of life returning to your limbs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Minthara's stern facade cracked slightly, and she leaned down to press a fierce kiss to your lips. “Good,” she murmured against your mouth, her voice softening for a brief moment. “Because I need you by my side. Always.”

She pulled back, her eyes burning with a fierce possessiveness. “Do not ever think you can leave me so easily. Death itself will bend to my will if it means keeping you with me.”

You chuckled softly, wincing at the pain but finding comfort in her words. “I know my love,”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The battlefield was a chaotic swirl of violence, the clang of steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air. You and Lae'zel fought side by side, a formidable team. But in a split second, you saw an enemy warrior, poised to strike her from behind. Without hesitation, you lunged forward, taking the blow meant for her. The pain was excruciating, but you gritted your teeth, determined to protect her. As the world around you faded to black, the last thing you saw was Lae'zel's horrified expression.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with Lae'zel's fierce gaze, her hands pressed against your chest where the wound had been. The magic of the revivify scroll was still fading from her fingertips. Relief flickered in her eyes before it was quickly replaced with anger.

"Fool!" she snapped, pulling you up to a sitting position. "You call that battle technique? Throwing yourself in front of a blade like a reckless child?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, despite the pain still lingering in your body. "Nice to see you too, Lae'zel."

Her glare intensified, but you could see the worry in her eyes. "Do not mock me. Your survival is not a joke. You are to be better, to fight smarter. I will not lose you to your own stupidity."

"Yes, ma'am," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'll try to remember that next time."

She sighed, her expression softening ever so slightly. "See that you do. I need you alive and by my side, not dead on the ground." She reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead with surprising tenderness. "Promise me you will fight smarter."

You took her hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "I promise, Lae'zel."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The battle raged around you, guts and gore everywhere, but your focus was solely on Shadowheart. She was cornered, surrounded by enemies, and in that moment, you knew what you had to do. You threw yourself in front of her, taking a vicious blow that would have ended her life. The pain was immense, but you didn't regret it for a second. As your vision blurred and darkness closed in, you heard her scream your name.

When you awoke, the first thing you felt were her tears on your face. Shadowheart was leaning over you, her hands glowing with the last remnants of a revivify spell. Her eyes were red, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at you with a mix of relief and frustration.

"You idiot," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Why did you do that? Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?"

You tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "Because I love you, Shadowheart. I couldn't let you die."

She sobbed, her tears falling onto your face. "You reckless fool. You can't just… just die like that. I can't lose you." She tried to scold you, but her voice broke, and she buried her face in your chest, her body shaking with sobs.

You reached up, gently stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Shadowheart. I didn't mean to make you cry."

She lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours. "Don't you ever do that again," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You hear me? I can't… I can't go through that again."

"I promise. I'll be more careful." You nodded, pulling her close and holding her tightly. She clung to you, her sobs gradually subsiding as she calmed down.

"I'm just so glad you're alive," she whispered, her voice still trembling. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"I'm here," you said softly, kissing the top of her head. "And I'm not going anywhere."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The clashing of swords and the shouts of warriors filling the air. You and Jaheira fought side by side, her presence a comforting and motivating force. But then, you saw it—a blade aimed straight at her back. Without thinking, you threw yourself in its path, taking the blow meant for her. The pain was sharp and overwhelming, and you fell to the ground, the world fading to black.

When you opened your eyes, Jaheira was kneeling over you, her hands glowing with the light of a revivify spell. Her expression was calm, though you could see the concern in her eyes. She finished the spell, and the pain began to ebb away as life returned to your body.

"There you are," she said, her tone brisk but affectionate. She pulled you to your feet with surprising strength, and before you could fully process what was happening, she leaned in and pressed a firm, warm kiss to your lips.

"You'll need to be quicker next time, you would have easily been able to deflect that blade," she said, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "But thank you."

You managed a weak smile, still a bit dazed and in awe of how calm she was. "Anything for you, Jaheira."

"Good," she replied, giving you a pat on the back. "Now, back to the fight. We have work to do."

With that, she turned and rejoined the fray, leaving you with a sense of awe and gratitude. She had seen death and resurrection enough times to take it in stride, but her kiss had been full of warmth and reassurance, a silent promise that she would always be there to pull you back from the brink.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The air crackled with magical energy as the battle raged on. You saw Gale, his focus entirely on casting a powerful spell, unaware of the enemy creeping up behind him. Without hesitation, you darted forward, taking the lethal blow meant for him. The pain was excruciating, and darkness quickly consumed your vision.

When you awoke, you felt the tingling aftermath of a powerful spell. Gale stood over you, his hands still glowing with the energy of the revivify spell he had just cast. His face was a mix of relief and exasperation.

"Really? It was that easy" he said to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "This was disturbingly easy by comparison, you could just ressurect any odd fool.."

Gale continued to ramble to himself until you blinked back to conciousness and managed a weak chuckle, your body still aching. "See? And the things I have to do for you, purple string and all that."

His expression softened as he realized you were awake he was about to retort when he realised why you were bother there in the first place.

"You shouldn't have done that," he scolded, though his tone was gentle. "Sacrificing yourself like that was reckless."

"I had to," you replied, your voice hoarse. "If you died, the Netherese orb would have gone off and killed us all. Someone had to protect you."

Gale sighed, his frustration melting into acceptance. "You have a fair point," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it." He helped you to your feet, his grip steady and reassuring. "Just… try not to die again, alright?"

"I'll do my best," you said, smiling up at him. Gale's eyes softened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace.

"Good. Because I don't want to go through that again." He held you close for a moment before stepping back, his hand lingering on your shoulder. He knew you had reason on your side, and it killed him but for now he would keep some revivfy scrolls to himself, just for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The battlefield was a chaotic blur, the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air. You saw Astarion, his back turned as he fought off an enemy, completely unaware of the assassin creeping up behind him. Without hesitation, you launched yourself in front of him, taking the lethal blow. The pain was searing, and darkness quickly overtook you.

When you came to, the first thing you saw was Astarion's face, his expression a mix of shock and relief. He had just finished casting a revivify spell, the magic still shimmering around his fingers.

"You idiot!" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of anger and worry. "What were you thinking, throwing yourself in front of a blade like that?"

"I had to protect you," you managed to say, your voice weak. You groaned, the pain from the wound still lingering.

Astarion's eyes softened for a moment, but then his usual dramatic flair took over. He placed a hand on his chest, striking a theatrical pose.

"I suppose I should thank you for your valiant sacrifice," he said, his tone dripping with mock grandeur. "After all, you did save my life, and now you owe yours to me. Consider me your god, darling."

You couldn't help but chuckle, despite the pain. "Oh, great. Now I'll never hear the end of it."

Astarion leaned down, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead. "Don't think this means you can make a habit of dying on me," he murmured, his voice softer now. "I quite like having you around."

"I'll do my best," you replied, smiling up at him. "But maybe next time, try to keep an eye on your surroundings? You supposed omniscient god."

He smirked, helping you to your feet. "Deal. Now, let's finish this fight so I can properly express my gratitude later."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The battle was fierce, and in the midst of the chaos, you saw Wyll, his focus entirely on fending off multiple attackers. Suddenly, an enemy appeared from the shadows, aiming a deadly blow at him. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of him, taking the hit. The pain was overwhelming, and darkness quickly enveloped you.

When you woke, you felt a familiar warmth and the tingling of healing magic. Wyll's face hovered above you, his expression a mixture of relief and overwhelming joy. He had just cast a revivify spell, bringing you back from the brink of death.

"Thank the gods," Wyll whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."

You smiled weakly, your body still aching. "Couldn't let that happen," you replied softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks to you," he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But don't you ever scare me like that again."

Before you could respond, Wyll pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he would never let go. He peppered your face with kisses, his relief and love evident in every touch. "I'm so glad you're alive," he murmured between kisses. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart.

"I had to protect you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't bear to lose you either."

Wyll pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression serious. "We're in this together, remember? Next time, we'll protect each other."

"I promise," you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. "But you better be ready for a lot of hugging if you ever scare me like that again."

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "I'll take that over losing you any day," he said, giving you one more firm kiss before helping you to your feet.

With Wyll's arm around you, providing support and comfort, you both turned to face the rest of the battle, ready to continue fighting side by side.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The battlefield was a frenzy of chaos and bloodshed. Amidst the turmoil, you saw Halsin, his powerful form surrounded by enemies, but his focus on the frontline left him vulnerable. An enemy archer, hidden in the shadows, took aim at him. Without a second thought, you dashed forward, throwing yourself in front of him just as the arrow was released. The searing pain hit you, and darkness quickly swallowed your vision.

When you came to, you were lying on the ground, Halsin's face hovering over yours, his expression one of frantic concern. His hands were glowing with healing magic, and you felt the warmth and energy seeping into your body, bringing you back from the brink of death.

"Don't you dare leave me," Halsin murmured, his voice a mixture of command and desperation. His eyes were intense, filled with worry and relief as he saw you stir.

"Halsin…" you managed to whisper, your voice weak. "You're okay?"

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Thanks to you," he replied, his tone softening. But then his expression shifted to one of fierce protectiveness. "But that was incredibly reckless. I can't lose you."

Before you could protest or even fully process what was happening, Halsin scooped you up into his strong arms, lifting you effortlessly from the ground. The battle still raged around you, but his focus was solely on getting you to safety.

"Halsin, put me down," you said, trying to sound firm despite your weakened state. "I can still fight."

"No," he replied, his voice unyielding. "You've done more than enough. Your place now is to recover."

You tried to wriggle free, but his grip was ironclad, and his pace didn't falter as he carried you away from the chaos. "Halsin, listen to me. We need every hand we can get out there. I can't just—"

"Enough," he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I cannot bear to see you hurt again. Let me protect you this time."

The sheer determination in his voice, coupled with the tenderness in his eyes, made your protest die in your throat. You sighed, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

"Fine," you conceded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "But once this is over, we need to talk about your definition of 'teamwork.'"

A small, relieved smile tugged at his lips. "Fine," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "But for now, just rest. Leave me to taking the hits for now."

As he carried you to a secure spot, away from the battle, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and gratitude. You were a fighter, but having someone like Halsin care so deeply for you, willing to protect you at all costs, was a comfort you hadn't expected. And as he set you down gently and continued to shield you with his presence, you realized that sometimes, letting someone else take the lead wasn't always a sign of weakness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you all enjoyed it !

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

October 05 - Overstimulation

pairing: dom!Wanda x sub!Reader

summary: Wanda makes you cum over and over again. When you think you can't cum anymore, she makes you cum again. And then again. And then... again.

content warnings: vibrator, dildo, overstim, crying, cnc

word count: 1.1k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Black-tipped fingers drag along your stomach, short nails scraping slightly and leaving small, raised pink lines. Green eyes follow their movement, mesmerized by the way your skin trembles and your muscles clench beneath her touch. It's unbelievably addicting, the way you react to her. 

Wanda wants more. 

Your wide eyes stare up at her, unfocused slightly as you look at her with unspoken pleas locked behind your gaze. Her fingers cup your jaw, her thumb brushing against the fabric of your gag, right where your lips are. A broken whimper sounds out, muffled and wanting. 

“Use your words, darling,” Wanda says, teasingly. A smile spreads across her face at the way you attempt to speak, frustration evident on your features as you gaze imploringly up at her. 

Green eyes roam your nude body, lingering around your chest before moving towards the toy pressed up against your soaked core. It’s her favorite vibrator, black and firmly secured to your thigh as the head of it vibrates strongly against your clit. 

Your arousal has soaked the head of the vibrator, pooling beneath you as your hips jerk and tremble with each wave of pleasure as it sweeps through you. Your clit is bulbous and red, your nerves frayed slightly from the amount of stimulation you’ve already endured tonight. 

“Mmpph ffphhmh phhmpphmm,” you say, despair sweeping through you when Wanda chuckles at your attempt at speaking. Her smile is wide, her eyes sparkling with joy as she looks down at you. 

“Say that again?” 

You choose to simply glare at her. Ah, bad move. 

Wanda turns the vibrations up, arousal coursing through her at the muffled shout you release at the added stimulation. She leans down, her lips grazing the fabric of your gag as you turn your teary eyes towards her. 

“Don’t act like a brat, sweetheart. You know that you deserve this. You begged so prettily for it.”

You can’t deny that, the memory of your bold words flashing through your mind as sharp regret makes its way through you. God, you’d been so brave, so convinced that Wanda would go easy on you. You should have known better. 

Standing back up, Wanda raises an eyebrow at you, her head tilting as she observes the way your hips simultaneously buck against the vibrator and shy away from the stimulation. Your face is flushed, sweat dripping down your temple as you attempt to suck in large breaths. 

“Go on,” Wanda whispers, her lips close to your ear. “Cum for me.”

Her tongue makes contact with your damp skin, dragging up your throat while you shudder and convulse beneath her. Painful bolts of pleasure wrack your body, your clit oversensitive against the vibrator. Your hands twist and pull against the soft rope wrapped tightly around them. 

“Perfect,” Wanda murmurs, lowering the vibration slightly as she watches tears slide down your face. “Color, baby?”

You blink twice, the signal for the color yellow. Wanda clicks the vibrator down another few notches until you blink once at her, the signal for green. 

“How many times was that… seven orgasms?” Wanda asks, her eyes dark and glinting in the dim lighting.

Shivering at the sadistic look in her eyes, you nod feebly. 

“That’s not enough, baby. You need more, don’t you?”

Shaking your head fiercely, you protest. Your words are muffled and incoherent, trapped behind the gag. You know it’s a useless attempt, Wanda smiling condescendingly down at you as she begins to tug and pinch at your stiff nipples. 

“Don’t whine, honey. I know what’s best for you,” Wanda says, her accent rolling between her words. “I’m doing this for you, to get rid of the brattiness that you know I hate so much. Don’t you want to be my good little pet?”

Feeling trapped, you slowly nod your head. 

A wide smile spreads across Wanda’s face, and she turns the vibrations up slightly. She pulls out a dildo, thick and red, and you feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of her fucking you with it. 

“Yeah? You like the look of this, don’t you baby?”

You whimper, nodding again as you watch Wanda bring it down towards your thighs. She presses the tip of the dildo against you, your arousal soaking it instantly. You buck your hips, feeling your body work itself towards another orgasm as desperation clouds your mind. 

Sliding the toy easily inside you, Wanda’s lips part at the low moan that escapes you. Your eyes roll back, your breaths stilted with need as she slowly pumps the toy deep inside you. Angling her wrist slightly, Wanda watches your eyes fly open as the tip of the dildo hits your g-spot perfectly. 

“Good job, pet. Take it all like a good slut,” Wanda hisses, your broken whine sounding like music to her ears. 

She quickens her pace, the brutal stimulation of the dildo making your orgasm race towards you. It washes over you, your back arching as you babble incoherently behind your gag. 

Wanda doesn’t stop, her eyes taking in your reactions as another, smaller orgasm hits you. The dildo is soaked, your juices running down the length of it as it slides easily inside you with each thrust. Her fingers struggle to grip the base of it, the scent of your cum making her dizzy with need. 

“One more for me, okay?” Wanda says, your eyes glassy and unfocused as you turn to look at her. 

You nod, and immediately let out a moan as Wanda turns the vibrations back up. Her forearm burns as she fucks you harshly with the dildo, her eyes attentive as she stares at your face. 

It’s too much and not enough at the same time. You feel yourself slipping between reality and that vanilla-scented subspace that you’ve grown to enjoy. You feel slightly untethered, the only thing grounding you is Wanda’s green eyes locked on yours as she works your spent body towards another orgasm. 

Reaching up, Wanda pulls the gag away from your lips, an immediate stream of moans clawing their way from your throat. She can feel your body trembling, your muscles clenching as your orgasm rapidly approaches. 

Leaning down again, her lips slide over yours, swallowing your desperate pleas and moans. Her tongue moves against yours, her teeth nipping at your lips and sending your senses into overdrive. 

Before you know it, your orgasm approaches, wracking your body as Wanda slowly pumps the dildo in and out of you. The vibrations slow, just barely enough stimulation to drag the aftershocks of your orgasm out, but not too much to be painful. 

You sigh, feeling your muscles relax. Wanda kisses you firmly, before pulling back and leaving the dildo inside you. She lets you catch your breath, her fingers rubbing slow circles over your hips as your chest heaves. 

Green eyes catch yours, and you smile at her, a haze filling your mind as she reaches down. Wanda smiles, her eyes sparkling. The vibrator turns up again, and you feel fear flash through you as pleasure begins to course through you again.

“Ready for more?”

[merrygay]

Bound and broken

Qimir x reader (enemies to lovers)

Warning : Jealous Qimir, Yandere themes, Possessive Qimir, afab reader, Enemies to lovers. English is not my first language.

Synopsis : Qimir could never forget you, you consumed his every thought, haunting his senses. It’s been years since he last saw you… until now.

 “you”

Your voice cracked, you felt as if your legs were going to leave, your gaze traveled around his features, eyes widening in both horror and in a desperate plea for not to be true, as realization settled in, each breathing became rapid as if a hand was over your mouth smothering you. You lowered your lightsaber, putting your other hand over your chest, you tried to breathe but you couldn’t, tears frightening to trickle down your eyes as you were looking around you, dead bodies, after dead bodies, almost all the jedis that came with you were dead. 

The Jedi killer in front of you was standing still, in contrast to your emotional distress, his eyes lit on fire, he was ready to fight, ready about what’s going to come, his red lightsaber standing proud while yours was frightening to fall down in your own hand. 

“Hello old friend” He spoke with a nostalgic tone, his voice tinged with a wistful longing for the past, yet a faint smirk played on his lips, hinting at a mixture of amusement and irony.

That day you begged the maker like you never had before. You implored not to be true, it can’t be him… please. You begged a painful truth to be washed, to be erased from this planet, from the entire galaxy. My old friend wouldn't do this ! You tried to deny, please he wouldn't, I swear it ! You tried to promise. Lies, lies and lies…

You opened your mouth but no words came out, your lips, slightly parted, caught in a whisper of pain, trembled ever so slightly. The curve of your mouth was tinged with despair, a silent testament to the heartbreak you were enduring.

No attachment the Jedi order said, and you followed that rule dearly, but only one person could shatter this rule into pieces, and that one person was Qimir, your old friend.

He at least let you digest the unbearable truth, once a dead friend now a dark sider. He was patiently waiting for your next move, his eyes traveled around your features, you never really changed, he noted, after all these years, except for your demeanor you weren’t a hopeful person anymore, once a lighthouse, your smile was a beacon of warmth and hope in the stormy seas of his once padawan life. Now, the light has dimmed a long time ago, leaving the horizon dark and forlorn, your joy hidden behind clouds of silence. 

Was it because of him? He asked himself, clinging to the hope that it was. He longed for the thought of him to consume your days, your nights, and every fleeting moment in between. He wished to invade your dreams and nightmares alike, until your mind was clouded with nothing but him. Just as you had enveloped his every thought, all these years being apart from you. 

You tried to collect yourself, tightening your grip around your lightsaber, your gaze never wavering from the Jedi-killer you once called “friend”. With a deliberate motion, you unfastened the clasp of your cloak. The fabric, once draped around you like a shadow, fell away to reveal your form beneath. Your Jedi apparel was one of black, showing your never ceasing grieve after learning about his supposed death. You summoned the Force, drawing another lightsaber from the ground near a cold, lifeless body that was once brimming with hope. 

You got into a fighting stance. Eyes Locked in yours, Qimir angled his body and started moving to the right. You instantly mirrored him, the both of you circled each other with calculated steps. 

“You really didn’t know i was alive” He declared, disappointed. Was our bond throughout the force not strong enough for you to not know whether he was alive or not ? He asks himself. Is it because of the pitiful jedis that surrounded you and clouded your mind ?

He clenched his jaw, jealousy surged through him, consuming his every sense. He had felt the unique connection you shared with those two Jedis. Master Sol and the dead one, Yord was it ? It didn’t matter anymore. 

Without any warning Qimir wielded his lightsaber, clashing it against yours in a brutal force, getting rid of the distance between you two rather quickly, your face was now just inches apart from him.

Finally he spoke again, almost a whisper. A fragile blend of desperation, anger, and jealousy lacing his words. “Not even deep down ?”. 

With a determined growl, you pushed forward, using his lightsaber to drive him back. The brilliant glow of your blades illuminates the strain on both your faces, creating stark contrasts against the inky blackness of the forest. And it continued that way for a while, lightsabers clashing against each other while your movements wove together in a violent rhythm, a tragic dance. Qimir's fighting style was different, brutal, violent, he did not follow any rule, any principles. Eat or be eaten, peace was never an option.   

“Retreat now, this fight serves you no purpose ! Your life will be more doomed than it already is ! ” you urged, preparing yourself for another strike.

“My life as a jedi was already doomed the moment I laid eyes on you” he stated.

You frowned deeply, lowering your lightsaber with obvious confusion in your face “What are you talking about ?” you demanded. 

Before you could process any answer he jumped on you again, this time his leg kicked you right on your stomach making you curse yourself from getting distracted. The intensity of his action made your jump backwards, your back landed on a tree making you yelp in pain. 

"Fark!" you cursed under your breath as you struggled to get back on your feet. But it was no use, the distance between you and your lightsabers was too great. Desperation surged through you as you reached out with the Force, trying to summon at least one of the hilts back to your grasp. It began to stir, but before it could reach you, Qimir’s dark presence intervened. With a flick of his hand, he halted your attempt, his eyes fixed on you with a menacing gleam as he advanced, each step deliberate and threatening.

"How ironic that the very rule and lessons you Jedi swore to uphold have led to your defeat."

He lowered himself to get even closer to you, before you could make any sudden movement he pressed his red lightsaber against your shoulder. The intense heat of the lightsaber seared through your shoulder, causing a sharp, biting pain that radiated outward.

“I will die happily as one too”, you stammered painfully, your head felt dizzy as the agony surged through every part of your body.

He titled his head at your response, visibly a bit impressed at your stubbornness or did he find you rather stupid ? you couldn't really tell. He was getting dangerously close to your face, looking at your features carefully which was contorted with pain, every muscle tensed in a grimace of distress even after he stopped his lightsaber from harming you.

“I will kill the entire galaxy before I even kill you”, he whispered in your ear, making sure you heard each word clearly, before you felt yourself slipping away into unconsciousness as he used the Force to make you faint.

He looked at your passed out state. Carefully he slipped one arm under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you from the cold ground, he could feel the faint, uneven breaths brushing against his neck as he started walking deeper into the forest before any other jedis came to your rescue.

————————————————————————————

Chat how do we feel about this, I might write a part 2

[bleedichor]

lucifer morningstar x fem! reader

you help comfort him after his meet up with his lovely daughter ꓹ⠀ charlie. [ no warnings. fluff. silly nicks. ]

The moment he took a step back in his castle, he felt the overwhelming feeling of panic. His chest was heavy, he was filled with dread, and somewhat bitter joy. It had been over centuries since he’s spoken to his own kin, his daughter whom he adored. His steps sounded heavy, almost like he was trying to carry his own weight. which alerted y/n of his arrival. She left her study and saw him in the hall, gripping his staff and tears threatening to fall.

“Honey pie, what’s wrong?” she walked cautiously, studying his body language and the clear evidence of tears. “Charlie..” he hiccups and began to cry. “Oh.. honey..,” she strolled over to him and lifted his face in her hands. “Charlie wants to get into contact with heaven. I still have my doubts but..” he spoke carefully as she gently wiped his tears with her thumbs. He relaxed in her touch, letting himself breathe.

“But you know you owe her this? Charlie is a bright girl, much like her father” she chuckled and smiled up to him. he smiled a bit then nodded. “I do owe her at least this, I wish you could have seen her.. she was magnificent. Her dreams are beautiful and she cares deeply for all of her people. She’s a wonderful woman now. I’m so proud of her.” He leaned his forehead against her own as they both shared a smile as tears silently fell from his cheek.

“I wish I was there for her, but I was so stuck in my own failures that I didn’t even realize how much I missed out on. I tried so hard to show everyone that freedom is a beautiful thing and yet—” y/n gently placed a kiss on his forehead to stop himself from spiraling into despair.

“Don’t say that about yourself. Stop it. You tried all you could do for your people and even then you tried that’s something you should be proud of. You never gave up.. and even if you did, you still dreamed about it day ‘n night. You’re amazing honey pie.. truly. You should give the helping hand that no one gave to you to Charlie.. you’re the only demon who could help her and plus she only has one father.” She winked and smiled.

He gently gave her a kiss on the lips and stood up straight, almost like a routine. She dusted his shoulders and coat then straightened his collar. “I’m so grateful to have a daughter like Charlie..” she held his hands, feeling the cold feeling of his ring.

She didn’t acknowledge it facially but she knew he loved his ex-wife and daughter with all his heart. It’s something that a new woman couldn’t change, it’s something she had to understand but she knew she loved the man he is. He’s a loving man and she knew he was going to commit to that promise to his daughter. “And.. I know I don’t say it much but I love you so much y/n, my beautiful beautiful apple” he kissed her once more, their hands enveloping each other.

Once they pulled apart she let out a soft giggle and fixed his hat “now go do as you promised and make your daughter proud.”

[shy-writer-999]

Surrender: Ace cries at night and you comfort him

A/N: This is angst that turns into lovey-dovey stuff. SFW. CW for self-loathing (on Ace's side). ~1,250 words. (´ω｀*)

Surrender: Ace cries at night while you comfort him

Sometimes Ace engages with the deep pit of loneliness and self-loathing that festers inside of him. He tries to avoid it as much as he can, but that part of him can only be ignored for so long until it demands to be heard. In the visceral moments of reconciliation with that neglected part of himself, Ace has to surrender. He has to allow himself to feel and accept the open wounds still gaping inside of him—the wounds in his heart, in his core, in that pit of despair and unimaginable solitude.

There are certain memories of hurt and trauma in your past that you can never forget. Even if these moments are from decades ago, they can sting and haunt you just the same. They flash into the mind, unprompted, intrusive, glaring, and horrible. On a good day, those memories fly under the radar for Ace. They don’t get in the way of how intensely and relentlessly he loves people, nor do they obstruct the happiness he feels in the small moments of joy that every day brings.

When the memories finally surface, when they refuse to go away, not only does Ace have to surrender, but more often than not, he breaks. These days, it’s rare. To be clear, Ace is not broken; the sheer weight of the hurt that he quietly suffers can just get to him. It’s like a watershed—the second that he has to surrender, his repressed emotions and memories detonate like a bomb in his heart. Surrendering to the pain, surrendering to that festering pit, sometimes looks like curling up in fetal position and sobbing for however long he needs; historically, it’s been anywhere from 10 minutes to a couple of hours. Other times that he breaks he is despondent all day—he shuts down, and though there are no tears, the pain is just as torturous.

Since you had started seeing Ace and regularly sharing a bed with him, you had yet to witness one of these moments of surrender. Ace was a force to be reckoned with. He was strong, formidable, talented, and terrifying, yet at the same time he was charming, polite, and astonishingly kind. You had a baseline understanding of what he’d been through in his life and who he was, so you understood that he held pain in his heart. But understanding that fact was different than witnessing that pain in real time.

When you woke up to Ace crying next to you, his back was turned away from you. You realized that he was sobbing as quietly as he could. You could hear the sound of his breath hitching in between the waves of anguish and tears. He was trying to hold as still as he could, be as quiet and as small as possible, so he wouldn’t wake you up. He preferred to suffer these moments of anguish alone—he didn’t want to be a burden on anyone. He shouldered too much, far more than any one person should or could deal with. As the shuddering sobs wracked his body, his heart and core twisted. The watershed of grief had started, and it wouldn’t stop until it all came out.

When you watch someone that you love sob like that, it breaks something in you, too.

For someone to be so vulnerable, so sincere, showing you a part of themselves that they keep locked away… it is nothing to take lightly. Having the privilege of being close to someone like this is precious. It is invaluable. To be trusted completely and without refrain, to be recognized for who you are and to recognize someone for who they are, completely, through thick and thin… this is what love is about.

You stirred and Ace held his breath, worried that he had disturbed your sleep with his break down. No matter how still or soundless he tried to be, the hot tears streaming from his eyes refused to stop.

You shifted, facing his back and scooting closer so you were spooning him. Ace tried to slow down his gasps for air to feign like he had been asleep.

Not only was he worried about being a burden, but he was worried that you would look at his pain and refuse to recognize it—that you would scorn him. As he tried (and failed) to self-regulate, he felt you lean forward to kiss the back of his head. You threw an arm over him, holding him, letting him know that he was cherished here. You nuzzled into his neck and felt his body alongside yours.

“I’m here, Ace. And you are safe.” You spoke gently into the back of his neck.

Upon hearing your recognition and reassurance, Ace fully yielded to the explosion of emotions assailing him—he let himself feel the hatred for himself and for others, let himself feel the suffocating loneliness of his solitude and isolation, let himself feel the desperate need to be loved and assured constantly. He surrendered.

Ace sobbed for a long time. The safety he discovered while you comforted him was beyond anything he knew. Your love radiated on the pit of sadness and despair, managing to lift Ace out of what felt like a molten, toxic, and boiling lake of self-hatred and sorrow.

While he cried, you kissed his neck, shoulder, and the back of his head softly. You held him. You asked for nothing from Ace. You didn’t come from a place of wanting to “fix” him or to figure out exactly what he was upset about—you were there because you profoundly, truly, ardently loved him. You were safe, you understood, you did not judge. He could grieve as much as he needed to and you would be there, always.

When his breath slowed and the tears stopped rolling down his cheeks, Ace felt calm, clear headed. He turned over to face you, getting so close that your foreheads were almost touching. His cheeks were soaked with tears, his eyes were red, and his hair was a mess. He took one of your hands tenderly and entwined his fingers with yours. He spoke three words, his voice hushed and hoarse.

“I love you.”

Ace kissed your forehead softly, his lips still wet from the paths forged by tears down his skin; he peppered the rest of your face with soft, damp kisses. He couldn’t put into words how grateful he was for you or how significant and impactful your care was to him. He didn’t say anything because he knew that you were already aware. This moment didn’t need words.

You fell asleep nestled together, hands held. The love you felt for Ace and the love he felt for you was the same—it was a peaceful acceptance, an attunement, a harmony, and a burning flame.

After this night, anytime Ace felt like he was going under, like he was about to be swallowed by that excruciating weight on his shoulder, he knew that he could find solace in you. You were an anchor for him, as he was for you. You recognized all parts of him and loved each one; he told you about all of the mistakes he had made, the people he had wronged, the regretful and hurtful memories simmering, and you told him that every mistake he ever made led him here—you both agreed that you’d never have it any other way.

(◕︿◕✿) (>_<) ૮ ˙ ﻌ˙ ა

thank you so much for reading, i appreciate it so much!

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

-- Z

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (12/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, unprotected sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Never before in her life had she been so terrified as she was the night their army was supposed to return from the battle of Rook's Rest. Lying in bed in her chamber, she looked towards the door, hoping in despair that it would open in a moment and he would appear in it, saying that they had won.

That he had returned.

It frightened her how far this had gone, how attached she had become to him, that the thought that he might die made her eyelids fill with heavy, burning tears.

She didn't care if he married her or not, she didn't resent him for taking her maidenhood even though he wasn't her husband, she didn't expect anything from him.

She just wanted him to survive.

She stood up, knelt before the bed on the floor and folded her hands as if to pray.

"Father, surround him with your support and wisdom. Warrior, give him the strength to fight. Mother, protect him and let him return home. Stranger, do not take him away yet." She muttered and sobbed quietly, burying her face in her hands, thinking she was pathetic.

He'd abducted her and forced her to serve him, fucked her like a whore, merely ensuring she didn't betray him, she repeated to herself, trying to pull herself together, but then she panicked again at the thought of never seeing him again.

She swallowed loudly, laying her head on the bedding, trying to calm her breathing, wondering how she would feel if he and Aegon had died and her father had marched into the Red Keep at the head of his army to liberate her.

Would she throw herself into his arms with joy?

Would she feel relieved?

Her heart and mind were filled with complete emptiness when she realised that she would not.

She didn't want to be saved.

The longer she thought about it, the more it came to her that she and her cousin were identical: they were drawn to each other like moths to a flame, burning in each other's embrace, taking from each other what they both so desperately craved.

He felt as rejected as she did, overlooked by his mother, who showed more tenderness to her lover instead of to him, her son, who was dying every day in the loneliness of his heart. Moreover, he could not openly ask for his mother's attention: it would show his weakness, the fact that deep down he was not a man but a little boy.

As rider of the greatest dragon in the world and protector of the Realm, he could not afford it.

She had only fallen asleep at dawn and shuddered when someone suddenly walked into her chamber, snapping her out of her deep slumber.

"My Lady. Prince Regent summons you to the Small Council chamber." Said Lysa.

Prince Regent.

She reached for the robe lying on the chair as quickly as she could, threw it over her shoulders, tying it around her waist, and went out into the corridor.

What has he done?

She made her way through the Red Keep with a quick step, finally standing in front of the door that the guards had opened for her, and she caught sight of his face sitting at the head of the table in the place reserved for the King.

What has he done?

She glanced around at the people sitting at the table – the Dowager Queen and Criston Cole looked distressed and tired, as did the other lords, however her cousin was grinning broadly, looking at her in a way she felt uneasy from.

"Leave us alone." He ordered and everyone around him stood up, bowing to him, leaving the chamber one by one.

She swallowed quietly as the door finally closed behind her with a quiet clatter of old wood, and they were left on their own. For a moment, they just looked at each other – her cousin hummed under his breath and spread himself comfortably in his seat, as if he was enjoying the moment, satisfaction and contentment in his gaze.

"Come closer, hāedar." He said softly, making a gesture towards her with his hand, as if encouraging her not to be afraid.

She moved towards him uncertainly, feeling that her lips were slightly parted in an accelerated breath, her heart pounding like mad.

She wanted to ask him where is Aegon, but didn't, recognising that the question would upset him.

He didn't like not being the centre of her attention, like a small child demanding her full involvement.

When she stopped in front of him his hand was still outstretched towards her, so she placed her fingers on it – she sighed as he pulled her gently and she fell into his lap, sitting down clumsily, trying to find a comfortable position, leaning against his shoulder for balance.

She closed her eyes when she felt his lips place a soft, sweet kiss on her cheek, the tip of his nose running over her skin as if he wanted to wordlessly tell her that he was glad to see her.

"– lēkia –" She whispered, not knowing what to say, afraid to use words, knowing that she had to be careful what she did now, feeling that something had changed.

He felt mighty and powerful.

Something had happened on the battlefield.

Had he disobeyed her?

Was Aegon dead?

Fear mingled with a sense of pleasant comfort in her heart when his familiar, broad hands stroked her back, trailing up and down, sliding up to her very buttocks, causing a delightful shiver to pass through her.

"– look at me, hāedar – look at me –" He sighed, his index finger tilting her face so that she looked straight into his own – his gaze was hot, filled with something she didn't understand, his breathing heavy, as if the very sight of her aroused him.

She dared to take his cheeks in her palms, and he closed his eyes as her thumbs gently stroked his skin, his lips slightly parted in a blissful expression.

There were so many things she wanted to ask him.

She was so afraid.

What have you done?

Why are you so proud of yourself?

Will you take me now while your brother's body is rotting somewhere?

She pressed her forehead against his, not knowing what to do, who was the man who had returned to her, thinking that he was at once close to her, beloved and foreign, terrifying.

"– iksan arlī, hāedar (I'm back, little sister) –" He whispered, stroking her hair, her shoulders, her back, her waist, her buttocks as if trying to remember what it was like to feel her body, his eyes closed, his face relaxed, as if he were in heaven.

"– ivestragon nyke skoros massitas, lēkia (tell me what happened, big brother) – kostilus (please) –" She muttered pleadingly, and his eye opened – contrary to what she had feared, his gaze was not cold or frustrated, but filled with warmth and relief.

"– my brother thoughtlessly interfered in the battle between Vhagar and Meleys – he paid for his foolishness and burned in the fire – he is alive, but incapable of performing his duties – I will remain Prince Regent until that changes –" He said quietly, as if he was telling her his secret, something meant only for her ears, stroking her cheeks and hair.

She sighed in relief and for some reason embraced him, cuddling his face between her breasts, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

My brother thoughtlessly interfered in the battle between Vhagar and Meleys.

So he didn't do it, she thought, feeling lighter, as if someone had dropped a stone from her back.

Simply the will of the gods had happened.

"– do you believe me, zaldrītsos? –" He whispered, as if he needed to hear it, his hands clenched tightly on the material of her robe at her back.

She had to believe him.

Hundreds of soldiers must have witnessed it, the sight of the dragon falling from the sky and what had happened before.

Why would he lie now, knowing that she would discover the truth anyway?

She stroked his soft white hair with her palm and placed a warm, loud kiss on the top of his head, cuddling him into her as if he were a small child.

"– I do, lēkia – I do –" She assured him and felt his manhood pulsate hard beneath her, then again and again.

She sighed when she felt his fingers untie her robe and nightgown, when with a light, impatient movement he slid their material off her shoulders, exposing shamelessly her breasts.

"– someone will see – ah –" She mumbled, involuntarily pressing him closer to her body as his lips in some subconscious, thirsty impulse found her nipple, sucking and licking it alternately – a powerful shudder ran along her spine, down to her fingertips and her swollen lips, making her cunt pulse hungrily around nothing.

She moaned helplessly as one of his hands clamped down on her ass, his hips beginning to roll back and forth, rubbing his hard, swollen erection against the place between her thighs.

"– no one dares –" He murmured softly, pulling away from her hard, puffy nipple only to move his mouth to the other, repeating the same caresses on it. "– I forbade it –"

She cried out in pleasure, clenching her fingers in his hair when she felt his hand slide from her buttock to between her thighs from behind – she began to rub against his fingers when she felt them sink into her leaking, soft folds with his sigh of satisfaction.

"– my little sister missed her brother – hm? –" He gasped, circling around her swollen bud, making a wonderful, tickling tension begin to rise in her lower abdomen, their hips meeting each other, his cock hard and swollen between her thighs.

"– did you not hear my desperate prayers? –" She mumbled, rising to her knees, lifting her robe and nightgown above her thighs as his hands slid down to his belt – he unbuckled it, looking at her with eye that was surprisingly vulnerable and warm, as if something in her words moved him.

"– what were you praying for, sweet girl? –" He whispered, untying and spreading the material of his breeches to the side, embracing her waist with his arm, with his other hand holding his swollen erection.

She liked the new position she found herself in – she knew that if he had wanted to, he could have simply come and fucked her in her bed, he, however, clearly desired something else.

Proof that she missed him, that she wanted him, that she needed him.

She placed her hands on his shoulders for balance and slowly lowered herself onto the fat head of his cock, feeling him open her wide on himself with their quiet sigh of pleasure.

She decided to tease him for a while and see how he would react to that.

"– for the Father to give you wisdom –" She gasped softly, letting him deeper into her hot core only to lift herself up again, sliding his manhood, slick with her moisture, out of her almost all the way, his mouth parted wide, his gaze fixed on her face, simultaneously terrified and delighted at how pleasurable what she was doing was. "– for the Warrior to give you strength –"

They both groaned pathetically as she let him into her all the way, closing their eyes only to open them a moment later, their hips in some subconscious, natural rhythm beginning to thrust out against each other as she pressed her forehead against his.

"– for the Mother to protect you –" She mewled as they both sped up, his stones slapping again and again against her asscheeks with loud splats of their bare skin, his cock thick and swollen, teasing her sweet spot with cruel precision, making her cunt begin to leak, the chair underneath them creaking loudly.

"– fuck –" He muttered, digging his short nails into the bare skin of her arse, forcing her to let him pound into her harder, his mouth grabbing her hard, sweet nipple and began to suck on it again, a wonderful, aggressive thrill of pleasure shook her body, her walls giving his erection a firm, sure squeeze.

"– for the Stranger not to take you away –" She cried out, moaning loudly along with him, her fingers clenched in his long hair, their bodies slamming against each other like mad, the tension deep inside her reaching its zenith, making her pant hard, their sweaty foreheads pressed together, their eyes fixed on each other.

"– hāedar – oh f-fuck –" He mumbled out, clenching his fingers on her body as tightly as if he felt he could no longer escape what was happening to him, how much he wanted it – their lips met in a messy, sticky kiss full of their tongues, her weeping cunt began to clench around his throbbing erection, bringing them closer to fulfilment.

"– ah – don't stop – gods, your brother is about to fill you –" He breathed out, and she cried out loudly, feeling that his words had done something to her – she heard him groan loudly, shocked when he felt her come hard on his cock, soaking his entire manhood in her wetness – they were both panting with relief and delight as his mouth spread wide in bliss, and his warm seed spilled deep inside her.

She snuggled her face into his neck, moaning quietly, unable to calm down as he did, their hips rocking for another moment, his arms embracing her tightly, cuddling her into his body.

"– dīnagon nyke, hāedar –" He sighed softly, combing his fingers through her hair, his lips placing a warm, tender kiss on her temple, as if he wanted to reassure both her and himself.

She froze, clenching her fingers on his black leather tunic, feeling her heart stop in her chest.

Marry me, little sister.

"– my brother is plunged into a deep sleep – there is no telling when he will awaken – we will manage to marry in the Great Sept by then – I have ensured that the message sent by the King does not reach the Iron Islands – I want it to be you –" He said in a voice trying to be calm, but she could hear it breaking, filled with the fear of rejection.

Gods, what was she to do?

If she became his wife, she would never run from him again.

She will become his property, like his chair, table or bed.

She would bear him children and he would bed his servants as soon as she was no longer young and beautiful.

"– I'm afraid –" She mumbled at last.

She heard him swallow hard, his free hand stroking her back reassuringly, as if he wanted to soothe her.

"– what are you afraid of, zaldrītsos? – tell me –" He whispered in her ear and fell silent, waiting anxiously for her words.

She pressed her lips together, feeling warm tears under her eyelids, her heart filled with stinging pain.

She embraced him and snuggled into him, deciding that this one time she would try to do what she had always dreamed of doing.

That she'll confide in someone like a friend.

"Marriage is for a woman like a cage. She can be happy only if she gives her husband children while still remaining young and beautiful. I don't know if a person born out of hatred can be fertile, but even if I am, I don't want to wait for the days when I find out that you are not faithful to me – I don't expect you to be, because since when have husbands been faithful to their wives? Isn't that why the world is filled with mistresses that everyone curses? I have never been the most important person for anyone and I know I won't be for you. I understand it, but our marriage would be a lie, even though everyone would have to believe otherwise. They would pity me, knowing that I have become a vessel for your seed." She muttered in a trembling voice, feeling tear after tear begin to run down her face, her throat clenched as if she was choking.

She heard him draw in a loud breath and sigh, his chest quivering all over – she lifted her gaze to him and froze, seeing that his jaw was shaking.

"If I wanted to have a mistress, I would marry Floris Baratheon and took you to my bed." He muttered at last, trying to remain calm, his eye large and filled with suffering fixed far ahead of him. "I wish for you to fall asleep and wake up beside me. For us to roam the skies together. For you to dine with me, read with me, speak with me. For you to always support me. For our children, if born, to be the result of our closeness. I will never dishonor you."

He said and looked at her, his hand stroking through her hair as if she were a small child.

"Marry me. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side. I will protect you."

She felt her lips tremble, her eyebrows arching in pain as she heard those familiar words, what he had said to her then, as they lay under the stars.

If you tame a dragon, I will treat you like my little sister.

She understood what he was trying to tell her.

Had he lied then?

Had he let her down?

Had he abandoned her?

No.

"Yes." She whispered.

He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, licking his lower lip.

"Yes, what?" He asked in a trembling voice.

"Kesan dīnagon ao, lēkia (I will marry you, big brother)." She whispered.

He pressed her body to his chest and sank his face into the crook of her neck, twitching all over with emotion.

She smiled, embracing him tenderly, thinking with amusement that she had already forgotten that his soft manhood was still deep inside her.

For some reason, the fact that they were one flesh seemed natural to her.

Her cousin announced their betrothal during supper later that evening, and although everyone at the table lowered their gazes, no one dared to contradict him.

He threw her a satisfied, piercing look as he sat at the head of the table in his brother's place, grinning broadly, and she sighed quietly and smiled, thinking that she might have been trying to lie to herself, but it was no use.

Her destiny was tied to this dark, violent, unpredictable man.

She spent that night in his chamber, for the first time feeling light-hearted with the fact that she was lying bare in his arms, in his pleasant, tender embrace, in which she felt safe – there was something wonderful about the way his fingers roamed lazily over her back, forming different shapes, while they lay in silence.

A silence full of understanding and contentment.

Her cousin wanted to use the time while his brother was unconscious, so he pushed for a quick nuptials – she didn't mind and agreed that he would organise everything as he saw fit, much to his delight.

"I haven't had time to congratulate you, my Lady. You are about to become the Prince's wife." Said Gwayne Hightower, Queen Alicent's older brother, raising his eyebrows in what she would call a mixture of amusement and mockery – he approached her with his hands folded behind his back as she practised archery in the courtyard.

She smiled under her breath as she drew her bowstring and took aim, releasing it, her arrow again hitting the centre of the target.

"Thank you, my Lord, for your kind words." She said lightly, not even bestowing a single glance on him, reaching into her quiver behind her back for an arrow, intending to take another shot.

She heard him snort under his breath, combing the sand beneath his feet with his boot.

"You could use tracks to shoot from a greater distance. You won't learn anything else here." He said softly, and she sighed, amused, pressing the bowstring to her cheek.

"On the contrary. I'm learning patience." She hummed, taking another accurate shot, looking up at him finally.

Indeed, Queen Alicent and her brother resembled each other, however, his eyes and hair were paler – she thought he looked like a confident and mischievous man, who was none too pleased that she was to join their family despite the fact that he himself owed his position to his sister.

The Court breathed hypocrisy.

"Surely your patience will come in handy with my nephew." He sneered, looking at her with a smile full of curiosity.

Did he really think she would let him provoke her, that she would tell him something about her cousin that he could then use against her?

"Prince Aemond doesn't like it when people speak about him behind his back. He generally doesn't like to be spoken about. He would not be pleased if he found out that you wished to discuss his affairs with me." She said, lowering her bow, coming closer to him, making his eyebrows raise.

He licked his lower lip, looking at her cheekily, as if he recognised that he had accepted the challenge.

"So he is oversensitive about himself. Like any Targaryen." He stated.

"He just doesn't like gossip. It's a trait of his character that I value in him." She replied.

Ser Gwayne cocked his head, taking a step towards her, standing, in her mind, too close to her – but she did not pull away, recognising that she would not be the one to pay the price.

"Are you carrying his child yet?" He asked, and she lifted her chin higher, understanding that with this innocent question he wished to humiliate her, reminding her that she was lying in bed with a man who was not her husband.

In his mind, she had simply seduced his nephew, whom he considered weak and vulnerable to manipulation.

"Possibly. I, unlike our Dowager Queen, don't make sure every time that my actions won't have consequences. I am prepared to pay them." She said calmly and smiled when she noticed that his gaze grew grimmer, his eyebrows straightened, his jaw clenched in fury.

He opened his mouth to say something, but they were interrupted by another voice.

"Hāedar."

She turned towards her cousin and smiled at him reassuringly, seeing his tense figure walking towards them, his gaze once on her, once on his uncle.

He stopped beside them and licked his lower lip, impatient.

"Skorion massitas (what happened)?" He asked coolly, staring at her expectantly.

She sighed quietly and threw him a soft, calm look.

"Aōha kēpus jaelagon naejot gīmigon lo nyke gryves aōha riña iemnȳ nyke (your uncle wants to know if I am carrying your child). Nyke udlitan zirȳla bona gaoman gīmigon daor (I answered him that I do not know)." She said and saw that he closed his eyelid and turned his head away, furious, swallowing hard the rage that surged in his body.

"Henujagon īlva, hāedar (leave us, little sister). Jikagon naejot ñuha tistālion (go to my chamber)." He said matter-of-factly.

She nodded and moved ahead without bestowing a single glance on Ser Gwayne Hightower.

She smiled under her breath, guessing that her betrothed would teach him a lesson in humility.

She sighed quietly as she went into her quarters for a moment, wanting to change and take a quick bath before heading to his bed, all hot and tired after the physical exertion. She put her bow, a gift she had received from her Prince on the occasion of their betrothal, into one of her trunks and stood up, undoing the buckles of her leather tunic one by one.

She froze when she noticed a small roll of parchment lying on the table by the window.

Was it possible?

She walked over there and reached her hand for the letter, feeling her heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down her back at the thought that her father and his third wife's spies were still in the Red Keep.

She knew it was him.

It had to be him.

She unrolled the parchment and swallowed hard, feeling her heart jump to her throat as she read what was written in it.

Congratulations on your betrothal Kepa

[mercurycft]

𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 — 𝐀𝐖𝐅𝐂

## reader x awfc !!

hi all!! finally releasing this, which is in honour of jonas finally pissing off away from our girls and our team! i hope you enjoy! love always, RGx

warnings: angsty team x management arguments, mentions of mental health!

3.6k words.

“i’m sure the team will be buzzing with joy this evening after tonight’s win, but how are the girls and yourself taking the recent and surprising departure of a lifelong gunner?”

“yeah, as you said we’re all pleased with the result tonight - it was a great match with a good side and i think the score reflects the determination we took onto the pitch with us.” you watch as beth pauses, like she is searching for words that will do her feelings justice. “she was the best of us, not just the team but the best of us and our friends. i think she was and is destined for great things, but life and people unfortunately happened to get in the way. but i’m happy, we’re all, happy for her.”

you've known beth long enough to know when she is lying and it pains you to realise how the tone of her voice drops at the mention of you. it stings momentarily, but you shake it off and allow pride to take over you as the camera pans to the rest of the team taking their victory lap.

you find yourself smiling absentmindedly at your phone, having sat through the entire match with your eyes glued to your phone - watching your girls on the pitch from your home, instead of beside them for the first time in years. your stomach filled with a cocktail of emotions that you can’t seem to process at this very moment. a toxic mixture of sadness and despair, twisted and twined with anger and hatred for what the situation had become.

its been two weeks since your statement went out, three since you made the decision and four since the argument. in an ideal world, it wouldn’t have gone this way - you would’ve stomached your feelings for longer and swallowed your bubbling anger, bit your tongue and carried on as usual. but for some reason, you just couldn’t.

------

1 month ago.

a 3-0 win should be celebrated. it should fill you with joy and overwhelming excitement - but it doesn't. instead, it fills you with nothing but anger and resentment for the club you once loved, you used to love. in place of congratulations and pats on the back, is a lecture. a plethora of critiques and corrections despite the effort and conviction everyone had shown.

you and the rest of the girls stand huddled in a group in the locker room, stood in an agonising silence. your hair is still wet, from the sickly british rain that decided to visit, your face still tinted red and your chest still heaving.

you tune out to jonas' voice, watching absentmindedly as he paces ahead of the group - volume above his usual decibel as he tears into the group, pushing further and further. you don't listen, allowing your mind to wander. no one dares talk back, instead choosing to take his words. you, however, fail to be as nonchalant as them - swallowing the bubble of anger in your throat and biting your tongue to the best of your ability.

your mind is brought back into the tiled room at the snap of your name from the front of the group. you look up to be met with jonas' eyes on you - his eyebrows raised and seemingly awaiting an answer. "what?" you mumble through gritted teeth, eyes locked on his.

"do you care to fill the rest of us in on what is so important besides my feedback right now?"

you shake your head, matched with a sarcastic looking, sickly-sweet smile and lift your hand top gesture towards him. "oh please, carry on."

"i dont appreciate your attitude," he quips back, screwing his facial features together, feining disgust.

"whatever," you scoff, rolling your eyes and peeling yourself away from the bodies beside you - now overly aware of their eyes on you.

"i'm out." pause. "i'm going to leave, and have a glass of wine and celebrate a fucking win." you turn away from them, too busy to take off your kit and instead scrunching your clothes and belongings into your kit bag. "which by the way, is what we should all be doing! instead of standing here taking shit because he didn't like how we were moving on the pitch!"

there was a shift from him, and a deep red tint crept up his neck as he shot daggers at you from across the tiles. “i do everything for this team! maybe once in a while, it would be nice for you to do the same if you think you know better! please, do tell us, what makes you think you have done anything of significance for this team? for arsenal!”

it changed, then. the small shred of sympathy you had, the small shred of guilt - gone. ripped from inside you and splattered across the walls of your home stadium locker room. the girls around you seemed shocked at his words, confused and unsure of what to expect next.

you paused. taking a deep breath and halting your shoving of clothes and shoes into your bag, and turning to face him directly through the sea of red and white kits in front of you.

“what do i do, for this team?” the question sounded almost broken, like you couldn’t actually believe he was playing this card. you searched for the answer deep within yourself for a few seconds, allowing the hurt to build in your throat and fuel the fire burning deep behind your eyes and in the pit of your stomach. your eyes flicked over each of the faces now looking at you and a small smile teased at the corners of your lips as you looked at their concerned expressions.

after a few more moments of silence, you inhaled deeply and began. “i’ve given my life, to this club. to this team. i put in the work, i trained day and night in the academy, until i was enough for the senior team. and when i made it here, i made a difference. i stepped up when kim was out, when leah was out. when laura first moved here, i took her in.” you paused, taking another shaky breath, cautious of the tears held back by nothing more than your water line. “i don’t expect you to give a shit. but whilst you were too busy tearing this team down. katie for her aggression, kim for her captaining style, leah for her rehabilitation, viv for her performance, beth for her drive, lia for training hours and every other fucking player in this building. i was building them back up, i was trying to make this right.”

silence fell over the room, and you shook your head. “im done.” you all but whispered, slinging your bag over your shoulder and moving towards the large doors leading away from the locker room. “i can’t do this anymore, this club is my home - and i will not watch you tear it down.” you shoved the door, a single teare slipping down your cheek the second you heard the door swing back on its latch and close again. you didn't stop to say goodbye to the familiar faces in the building, instead, with your head down and focused on the floor beneath you - you walked straight into the carpark, got into your car and drove home.

as you drove away, the weight of your decision settled in your chest. you couldn't believe it had come to this, that you had walked away from the team you had poured your heart and soul into. all the emotions you had been burying for weeks and weeks on end were now uncontrollable, tears streaming as you contemplated your actions but you knew you couldn't bear to stay in an environment where your efforts were belittled and unappreciated.

after a 40 minute drive, you found solace and refuge in the familiar walls of your apartment. the silence enveloped you as you sank onto the sofa, reaching for your phone. you hestitated in pulling it out of your bag, unsure of what may be waiting for you when you unlock it.

but still, you did, heaving a deep breath when your screen lit up with a message from beth. her words expressing concern and confusion about what had transpired in the locker room. as you read beth's message, a mix of emotions washed over you - relief that someone cared enough to reach out, but also a pang of guilt for leaving without saying a proper goodbye. to her, to any of the girls in the room. you quickly typed out a response, skipping over the details of your motives - instead opting for a light hearted message, apologising for your abrupt exit and apologising for not controlling your temper.

minutes turned into hours as you sat there, staring at your phone, the weight of your actions heavy on your shoulders. you hadn’t moved, still sat in your jacket and kit, boots still tied to your feet. the sound of a familiar notification pinged through the room - like it had been doing on repeat since that first message from beth, and you saw more messages popping up from your now ex-teammates.

------

1 week later - 3 weeks ago.

the days blurred into a week as you settled into a routine without the training sessions, team meetings, and the constant thoughts of upcoming matches that used to consume your time. you found freedom in the quiet moments alone, the weight of expectation now lifted off your shoulders, a sense of liberation starting to bloom within you. you finally felt like a person, not just a player.

you had been speaking to the girls everyday, each of them keeping you up to date on life behind the scenes of the club. the drama and tension seemed to have escalated in your absence, with rumors swirling about disputes between jonas and some of the other players. your decision to leave had sent shockwaves through the team, but it also seemed to have sparked a newfound sense of unity among everyone.

it was a miserable london evening when you got your first unexpected visit, darkness just creeping across the clouds when a knock at the door interrupted your law and order binge.

to your surprise, standing on your doorstep was leah, with a hesitant smile on her face.

a flood of questions and uncertainties raced through your mind as you stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to say or how to react to her unexpected visit.

"hey," leah began, her voice soft yet laced with underlying tension. "uh, can I come in?"

you hesitated for a moment, the inner turmoil evident on your face as you considered whether to welcome her inside. finally, you stepped back, wordlessly opening the door wider to allow her entry. leah entered cautiously, taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment with a mix of nostalgia and apprehension.

there was a palpable tension in the air as you both stood in the living room, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire. you shared the quiet for a second or two before leah spoke up, her words carefully measured. "i know things have been rough lately... for all of us, you especially, i wanted to come here and talk, clear the air maybe?”

you studied her face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was genuine concern etched in the furrow of her brow. with a sigh, you nodded, gesturing towards the couch for her to sit. as she settled on the edge of the cushion, you perched on the arm beside her, like you used to.

"i just... i wanted to say that i'm sorry. sorry for not speaking up before, for not standing by you when things blew up. i let my own fears and doubts cloud my judgment, and i should have been there for you, we all should have been there for you."

her words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the unspoken tension that had plagued your relationship for months. you could sense the sincerity in her voice, the raw vulnerability that she rarely showed to anyone.

“i appreciate it, but it wasn’t your fight, le.”

“your fights are our fights, you’re one of us, you always have been. you always will be”

you gave her a half smile in response, and moved closer to her on the sofa - opening your arms to her. she mirrored your smile, allowing your arms to wrap around her and hers around you.

after a few moments, you pulled away, looking at her directly. “thank you, for coming round. and for looking after me for all these years. but i think,” you paused, sniffling and turning your attention to the fabric of the sofa below you. “i think its time,”

she nodded along with you, taking a deep breath before smiling at you. “if that’s what you want to do, then do it, and we will support you. i promise.”

“i don’t know how to tell the girls, i haven’t seen any of them since i left. i don’t want them to find out through social media,” you rambled.

“we’re all meeting at mine tomorrow, why dont you come along? i know they want to see you, and i think you deserve a night to relax with us - gunner style.” you share a laugh at her comment, agreeing to see the girls. a small shred of anxiety tore through the depths of your stomach, but you shook it off; determined to do the right thing.

the next day seemed to fly by, seeming to disappear from you as you spent the hours doing odd jobs - attempting to distract yourself from the uneasiness gnawing at your insides.

now, you find yourself outside leah’s flat. she said 7, but you underestimated the traffic at this time in this part of the city - so you’re late, as per usual, and composing of yourself on the door step. after a deep breath, you raise your hand to knock.

once, twice, then the door flies open. a smiley young aussie waiting to greet you, her arms immediately around you and pulling you tight to her frame. “jesus, i missed you,” she whispers into your shoulder. “i missed you too, k.” you pull apart and she grabs your hand, pulling you from the now closed door and into the living area. it’s littered with everyone you know and love.

they greet you like nothing has changed, arms wrapped around you and whispers, comments and remarks of support. you slip into the group like you never left.

after you’ve eaten, and have returned to the living area, you stand up - allowing everyone’s eyes to fall on you. you take a deep breath, smiling at them then looking down at your thumbs. you twiddle them and enterlock your hands as you search for the best way to say it.

“i wanted you to hear it from me, that next week, a statement will be released. a statement explaining my temporary contract termination from arsenal. i love you all, like my family. i don’t want any of you to feel like any of this is your fault, but i just feel like i’m at a different point in my life right now - a point where my views, and the clubs managment’s views no longer align. i can’t jeopardise my mental health, for people who can’t seem to put me, or my friends, first.”

you say it in one, your mouth and words moving faster than your brain can comprehend. you finish with a shallow breath, looking up to the group. they take it well, a few of them shedding tears at the offical loss of their friend and teammate, others hugging you and sharing comforting smiles. you know it needs to happen, but this is the part that kills you. leaving behind your family, your people.

the night draws to an end and you begin saying your goodbyes, promising to keep in touch and arranging plans to meet up soon. as you start making your way out of the room and towards the door, kim pulls you aside. you can’t read her expression, a sickening mixture of sadness and happiness for you.

“i’ll miss you,” she says softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “but I know you’re doing what’s best for you. just don’t be a stranger, okay?”

you nod, feeling a lump form in your throat as you hug her tightly one last time before heading out the door.

------

1 week later - 2 weeks ago.

3pm. your phone dings with a notification from the arsenal woman’s football club instagram and app, giving you and thousands of others the news of a new and important post. you hover your finger over the notification, hestitating.

you open it eventually, propping your phone up as the video loads onto the screen. you cringe at the sight of you, expectant of whats to come.

“hi gooners, it’s so nice to sit down and speak to you. this year marks my 15th year at arsenal, if we’re taking it all the way back to my first academy scouting when i was 8. i have nothing my fondness and admiration for this club, these people and this community. to be apart of this team and to watch the growth of woman’s football has been an honour and a pleasure i will forever be grateful for. when i think back on my years here, i have nothing but happy memories. memories of friends, of wins and of losses, of meeting fans and selling out stadiums. some of these things we never believed would be possible, but you, every last one of you, have made it possible. after 15 years of my life dedicated to the game, i think it’s time to take a break. temporarily and indefinitely, i will be taking a step back from the club. thank you all for your unwaivering support, it means the world to me. this is a special club, which remains my home. but my health and wellbeing needs to be my number one priority. thank you.”

you watch as the video comes to an end, and the messages, comments and likes begin. you switch off your phone after a few minutes, tucking it under a cushion on your sofa and resuming your show - tuning out the constant buzzing.

------

present day.

you watch until the live recording of the match ends, you watch all of the post-match interviews, with nothing other than a smile on your face. when the stream finally does end, you feel like you can breathe again, switching to your messages app and drafting a text into the groupchat to congratulate the girls on their win. you press send, then abandon your phone beside you somewhere on the sofa. paying it no mind and you lean back into the comfort of the cushions and pillows surrounding you.

as you sink deeper into the softness, you let out a content sigh, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. you close your eyes and let the sounds of the television fade into the background, relishing in the quiet of your own thoughts.

you dozed off, allowing the safety of sleep to engulf you for a few hours. you lay peacefully until the doorbell rings, jolting you awake. you groan in annoyance, wondering who could possibly be bothering you at this hour. you reach for your phone as you stand, 9pm. reluctantly, you shuffle away from the sofa and make your way to the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

as you swing open the door, you are met with a pair of familiar faces that brings an instant smile to your lips. beth and viv, stand on your doorstep with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"surprise!" beth exclaims, holding up a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers. "we come bearing gifts. can we come in?"

you step aside, allowing them to enter, still slightly taken aback by their unexpected visit. they both breeze past the threshold, only stopping for a moment to give you a hug before making themselves at home on your sofa.

“i didn’t know you were back in london, viv!” you exclaim, watching her set the flowers on the counter. “and shouldn’t you be out celebrating?” you ask beth with a laugh, shutting the door and joining them on the sofa.

“there’s no where we would rather be, mijn liefje.”

its the later end of midnight when you all start to tire, spread across the sofa and floor with eyes barely open and focusing on the movie playing.

“do you guys want to just stay here tonight? i don’t wan’t you driving home tired.” you say through a yawn, stretching your back out and turning to look at the both of them cuddled up beside you. both of their eyes closed and chests rising peacefully. you smile to yourself, moving to grab a blanket from the basket beside you and cover them both up. you switch off the tv, turn off the big light and make your way to your bedroom.

it isn’t long before you’re asleep too.

------

the next morning you wake to a persistant buzzing sound, your phone rattling on your bedside table. notifications from twitter and instagram flood your lockscreen, along with messages from the arsenal groupchat and from distant friends.

your eyes are just barely open when you reach for it, giving your eyes a moment to adjust before looking at the screen. you swing yourself off the bed, feet finding the cold of the floor as you pad through the flat until you find beth and viv.

they’re awake, both sharing the same expression as they look at you in the doorway between the two rooms.

you begin to read from your phone. “we can confirm that jonas eidevall has resigned from his position as head coach of our women’s first team and leaves us with immediate effect.”

[needfantasticstories]

“Many places I have been

Many sorrows I have seen

But I don't regret

Nor will I forget

All who took that road with me”

-The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd

This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja, after 86 chapters, 300k words, and 10 months of joy, laughter, tears, heartbreak and love, has finally reached its end. 

Adjuration is a tragedy that is nothing short of an act of love. That much is clear in the passion and dedication put towards the story, the characters, and the message Freyja is trying to convey. This fic will teach you about love. About death. About the inevitability of existence and why despite knowing it will all come to an end, there is still meaning in trying and hoping and loving each other. In loving yourself. You will laugh, you will cry, you will hope and you will despair as you read this story, but you will not be able to put it down.

It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has been so important to and loved by so many people. So we won’t. Instead, we will say thank you for this incredible journey and the community this fic has built. For the friendships that have been made and the endless inspiration you have given us. Thank you for wanting to tell a story, and for letting us join you around the campfire to listen.

Thank you.

(If you like Linked Universe and haven’t yet read Adjuration, see below for spoiler free reviews of this fic and artist credits.)

This is an Adjuration is the kind of story you fall in love with, the kind of story you think keep thinking about long after you put it down. The kind you keep finding hidden details in after you think you’ve got it figured out. 

The characters are distinct and people with their own voices, motivations, relationships and histories. You’ll have your favourites but love them all. They influence how you’ll see the characters in everything else. 

It’s full of moments where everything clicks and everything before is recontextualised in a way that’s so satisfying and make the whole story very re-readable. A time travel story where all loops are already closed, where you can know but not yet understand what will happen. It’s long, complex, and beautifully, meticulously planned and detailed. It’s clever and considered, funny and heartbreaking. 

A story that whispers ‘it matters’ over and over. It is worth it to love, it is worth it if it doesn’t last forever, it is worth it to give someone a little more time, it is worth it to fight. It’s about loving others and your world and finding grace for yourself. 

It’s loss and tragedy and the cruelness of fate. It is the sacrifice and the breaking. 

Full of heart to both fill yours and break it in the best possible way. 

It’s about love. Always.

By @toyouhellohowareyou

Sometimes, it’s hard to explain to others why art moves us.

I could tell you This is an Adjuration will make you cry, laugh, and sit at the edge of your seat in anticipation. And it’s probably true - I did all of that as I read, often with a coffee in one hand, early in the morning as I got ready for the day. 

But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this.

The real reason is how it followed me during the rest of the day.

You see, at a certain point I realized this isn’t a story about Links going on adventures. Well, it does feature Links, and they do go on adventures, so let’s talk about that for a minute.

The first thing that caught my attention about this book was the characters. Each individual is unique, interesting, and exciting to follow. Not only are the Links individually compelling, but one thing that stands out in Adjuration is how the relationship between each Hero and their own worlds matter, and these connections shift, evolve, break and grow as the plot progresses.

Freyja does an incredible job of bringing together impactful storytelling with humor and heart. This is an Adjuration starts with an interesting premise, and then twists and turns in directions you wouldn’t expect. It’s rich in thought-provoking moments, soft joy and intense action, blended in with carefully crafted time travel and magic.

Adjuration sucked me into the world it builds, combining believable characters with fascinating stories, an unnervingly devious antagonist, plot twists, and lovingly crafted details that slip unnoticed until you’re surrounded on all sides. It made me cheer for characters I feel as if I’ve known intimately for years, made me worry for their safety as I would for that of a loved one, kept me hunting for hints and hidden references, pulling on a thread to try to find the end only for it to twist and loop into itself and show me a completely new side to the story.

Yes, This is an Adjuration is a fanfiction piece that explores the winding river flow of the Legend of Zelda timeline and how the stories of each Hero merge into each other. It also stands out for its heavy emotional content, and it doesn’t shy away from angst and hurt.

But to me, Adjuration is an epic journey that taught me how the choices we make, make us in turn. It’s a tragedy that deals with pain and healing, and it bares naked the non-linear nature of grief. It’s a celebration of the things that make us unique, of our flaws, an essay of the impact of little acts of love. Indeed, it’s a story about love.

I can tell you now, This is an Adjuration moved me. It still does. It has a special way to surface in my mind in unexpected ways at seemingly random times, from something as simple as tossing an apple core, to watching a lightning storm in the distance, or finding a picture of an old friend.

And every time, without fail, it makes me think about love.

By @sunny-porridge

This is an Adjuration is a wonderfully and beautifully crafted story about love, loss, and choice as the various incarnations of Link come together and travel through time. Freyja seamlessly weaves a tapestry of setup and payoff across different timelines and loops, in the best-constructed time travel plot I’ve ever seen on page or screen. Even at its surface, Adjuration is an emotional rollercoaster involving tragedy and the soft moments that make that tragedy worth it. But the deeper you look, the more meaning you can pull from every chapter of this amazing work. This work has made me cry, squeal with delight, and think more deeply about its themes all while having an absolute blast reading it. So in summary: READ IT. READ IT. READ IT NOW. YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

By @life-in-winter

While I love that every chapter is emotionally enthralling, with carefully woven, visceral tension you crave in any good story, yet Adjuration is more than that, and you feel it in the careful weave of each character and plot point. Nothing is lost or unanswered. It's the kind of story that, by the end, makes you stop and take a hard look at your own life. Are you appreciating the now? Are you savoring joy? Are you so wrapped up in fear that you can hardly take care of yourself? Do you know who you are?

This story is more like an external experience. It's riding atop a tsunami. How do you handle that ride, Link?

There aren't enough words to describe how amazing this fic is.

@needfantasticstories

Artist credit

Legend: @gia-d

Hyrule: @bittirsweeteer

Time: @toonblade

Sky: @noorahqar

Warriors: @whitewinterstar

Wild: @weavingstarlight

Twilight: @bluury2

Wind: @thewitchdoctor39

Four: @lunaopus

Red: @peepthatbish

Blue: @glowingmin

Green: @winterfen

Vio: @waterfallstream

Shadow: @deleetrix

Wolfie: @linkiscool333

Fierce Deity: @awildsilver

Ravio: @lele5429

Malon: @tooner-tastic

Dink: @passerinesoncaffeine

[leftoverpages]

Beneath Weirwood's Shade

Pairing 𓅪 Benjicot "Davos" Blackwood × Bracken!reader

Tags 𓅪 forbidden love, romance, angst

Notes: inspired by romeo and juliet, thinking about posting multiple fanfics a day to reduce some of the stock i have :o

Wordcount 𓅪 1.2k

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The ancient trees of the Riverlands whispered secrets to those who cared to listen. Their leaves, drenched in the gold of a setting sun, sighed with the weight of countless generations. In this land of ancient enmities and whispered feuds, House Blackwood and House Bracken stood opposed, their enmity as deep-rooted as the forests that surrounded them.

Beneath the sprawling branches of a towering weirwood, where the heart tree's face wept red sap, Benjicot Blackwood waited. His dark eyes, pools of sorrow and longing, flickered towards the distance. His heart, though hardened by the years of familial hatred, beat with an unyielding fervor for you, the light amidst his shadows.

You, a Bracken, the sworn enemy, the forbidden fruit. A love like yours was bound to secrecy, hidden beneath the shroud of night and the veil of danger. The thought of you filled his every waking moment, and his dreams were haunted by your touch, your smile, the gentle cadence of your voice.

From the shadows, you emerged, cloaked in the twilight, a figure of ethereal beauty and tragic grace. The world seemed to hold its breath as you approached, each step a defiance against the legacy of hate that threatened to tear you both apart.

"Ben," you whispered, your voice a soft symphony that danced through the air. He turned, and in his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own soul—tortured, yet unwavering in its love.

"My love," he murmured, closing the distance between you. His hand found yours, and in that touch, a silent promise was exchanged. "Every moment away from you is an eternity of pain."

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you pressed your forehead against his, the world around you dissolving into the backdrop of your shared sorrow and joy. "We cannot keep meeting like this, Benjicot. The risk grows with each passing day."

His grip tightened, desperation seeping into his voice. "I would rather die a thousand deaths than live a single day without you. We are bound by more than blood and duty; our souls are entwined, and no force on earth can sever that bond."

"Then let us run away," you pleaded, your voice breaking. "To a place where Blackwood and Bracken are just names, where we can be free to love without fear."

Benjicot's heart ached with the weight of your words, the tantalizing dream of a life together pulling at his every resolve. But reality was a cruel mistress. "I fear there is no such place, my love. Our names, our histories, they follow us like shadows."

A shuddering breath escaped you, and you clung to him, seeking solace in his warmth. "Then let us cherish the moments we have, however fleeting. Let us defy the stars that conspire against us and carve our own fate, even if only for a night."

The weirwood watched over you, a silent sentinel to your stolen time. Beneath its ancient boughs, you and Benjicot found a sanctuary, a fragile haven in a world determined to tear you apart. You spoke in hushed tones, of dreams unfulfilled and love everlasting, your words a tapestry of hope and despair.

In the heart of the forest, time seemed to stand still. You and Benjicot lay on a blanket of fallen leaves, your hands intertwined, your hearts beating as one. The night sky above was a canopy of stars, each one a silent witness to your forbidden love.

"You remember the first time we met?" Benjicot's voice was a mere whisper, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of your hand.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "How could I forget? It was at the harvest festival. I saw you across the field, and for a moment, it felt like the world stopped."

He chuckled softly, the sound like a balm to your soul. "I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. But when I found out you were a Bracken, my heart sank."

"And yet, here we are," you said, your voice tinged with wonder and sadness. "Despite everything, we found each other."

Benjicot turned to face you, his eyes filled with a fierce, unspoken promise. "No matter what happens, I will always find you. In this life and the next, we are meant to be together."

The hours slipped away, and dawn's light began to creep over the horizon. With a heavy heart, you knew your time together was drawing to a close. You stood, reluctant to break the fragile spell that had bound you both.

"Until we meet again," Benjicot whispered, pulling you into a final, lingering embrace. "Remember, my love, that you are my heart, my soul, my everything."

You held him close, memorizing the feel of his arms around you, the scent of his hair, the warmth of his breath against your skin. "And you, Ben, are my hope, my dream, my forever."

With one last, lingering kiss, you parted, each step away from each other a dagger to the heart. But even in the face of inevitable sorrow, you carried a piece of each other, a love that transcended the bounds of feuding houses and cruel fate.

In the days that followed, you returned to your separate lives, each day a painful reminder of the love you could not openly share. You exchanged secret letters, hidden within the folds of cloaks and beneath the roots of ancient trees, your words a lifeline that sustained you through the darkest of times.

But as the tensions between your houses escalated, the danger grew ever closer. Whispers of war and betrayal filled the air, and you knew that the time would come when you would have to make a choice—between duty and love, between loyalty to your family and the call of your heart.

One fateful night, the shadows deepened and the air grew heavy with foreboding. A message reached you, written in Benjicot's hand, its words a stark warning: "Meet me at the weirwood. Our time is running out."

Fear and desperation clutched at your heart as you made your way to the ancient tree, your every step a prayer for his safety. When you arrived, you found him waiting, his face pale and drawn, his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own.

"My love," he said, his voice a broken whisper. "There is no time. Our families are on the brink of war. We must leave, now, before it is too late."

You nodded, your resolve hardening even as your heart ached. "Together, then. We will face whatever comes, as long as we are together."

With a final, desperate embrace, you turned and fled into the night, leaving behind the only world you had ever known. The forest closed in around you, its shadows a refuge and a promise.

As dawn broke over the Riverlands, the ancient weirwood stood silent, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. In its heartwood, the echoes of your love remained, a testament to the power of a love that dared to bloom amidst the thorns of hatred and the shadows of despair.

You and Benjicot, bound by love and fate, ventured into the unknown, your hearts beating as one. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with danger and peril, but as long as you were together, you knew you could face anything.

In the annals of history, the names Blackwood and Bracken would be forever linked by strife. Yet, in the hidden corners of the Riverlands, beneath the ancient weirwood tree, the whispers of your love would linger, a testament to the power of a love that defied the stars and dared to reach for eternity.