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#sequel requests
zepskies · 7 months
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Talk to Me
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Summary: Ben had a vivid nightmare last night. You know how he is about his “man feelings.” But you try to get him to open up anyway, before you both lose your tempers.
AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @deans-spinster-witch. It's set in the Break Me Down-verse and is a sequel to the SB imagine below:
See this imagine for context: Ben loses you.
Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff
Imagine: You confront Ben about his fears.
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“What the fuck is wrong with this cocksucking coffee maker?” Ben snarked.
He bumped the top of it with his hand, so hard you thought he was going to break it.
Your brows furrowed as you shot him a look. It was too early for all that.
“Nothing?” you said. “Worked just fine for me.”
He sported an even grumpier face as the coffee finally poured into his mug.
Something’s wrong, you thought.
Ben was usually quiet in the morning. Relaxed and slow until he’d had his coffee and started his routine, with his newspaper at his favorite lounge chair, then breakfast in the kitchen with you.
You were making pancakes on a griddle, but you were also watching your boyfriend. He wasn’t just quiet. He was downright grouchy and taciturn.
What crawled up his ass? you thought. Though you had your suspicions...
“Breakfast is done,” you called to him.
He eventually joined you, sitting down at the breakfast bar. You served him a mildly enormous stack, and just two pancakes for yourself. In most respects, Ben was still a bottomless pit.
However, after eating the first couple of pancakes in silence, he pushed away from his plate and leaned back in his seat. You held your coffee mug between both hands and eyed him.
“You okay, baby?” you asked, repeating the very words you’d asked him last night.
He glanced at you through surly brows. “Yeah. You can stop asking me that.”
Right, you thought. He’d been twitching in his sleep, muttering, making sounds that had worried you enough to wake him with a gentle hand on his dewy arm. His response had worried you too—that haze of disoriented shock, followed by relief when he recognized your face.
You’d comforted him the best you could after his nightmare, but he hadn’t wanted to talk about it. You knew he wouldn’t now, either. That didn’t stop you from trying.
You set down your mug and soothed a hand up his arm, until your fingers disappeared under his shirt sleeve.
“What’s got you all sunshine and rainbows then, Mr. Grouch?” you lightly teased. “I even made you pancakes. Still waiting on my thank you.”
Ben didn’t want to answer, though he briefly glanced at you. He slurped at his coffee.
You sighed. A tick of annoyance at your brow.
“Okay," you said. "Well, since we had breakfast here, I figured we could go out for lunch later when we get to the city. There’s this amazing deli I could take you to—”
“We’re not going,” Ben said.
You blinked in surprise. Your hand fell away from his shoulder. “What?”
“I’ve got things to do,” he said. And without looking at you, he grabbed his half-full plate and got up to bring it over by the sink. He speared a few pancakes back onto the plate you’d served them up in before dumping his plate into the sink.
At least he was learning something about living with you. Now, if he really wanted to impress you, he'd wash that damn dish.
But for now, you wanted answers more than you wanted clean plates. You slowly got up out of your chair and went to him. You tried your best not to be accusatory when you asked your next questions.
“What do you mean? What do you have to do?”
He didn’t seem to want to answer you. Or maybe, he didn’t have a good answer, because he was fucking lying.
You laid a hand on his arm. “Ben. I need you to talk to me right now, because this is our first day off together in weeks. You know this was supposed to be our day. So you’d better have a damn good reason.”
He frowned angrily down at you. “We’re not going because I fucking said so. That’s all you need to know.”
You glared back at him, standing your ground.
You raised a brow. “That’s not good enough with me, and you know it. But if that’s how you’re going to be about it, I’ll call Annie and make it a girls’ day.”
You turned on your heel to walk away, but an iron hand grabbed your wrist. Holding back a wince, you frowned at Ben over your shoulder. His face was tight with irritation.
“You’re not going any-damn-where,” he snapped.
“You better let me go, right now,” your temper snapped right back.
This man was protective, but he had never been this bad. Not even after you got out of the hospital after Vought Tower collapsed. Granted, you’d been fully healed. He’d never outright tried to forbid you from leaving the house though.  
“What the hell is your problem?” you said.
He didn’t want to let you go, but after a beat, he released you. His frown deepened when you had to rub the ache out of your wrist.
He hadn’t meant to grip you that hard. Part of him relented…but then it firmed back up, when he remembered last night. The images were still filtering through his mind on a loop.
The alley, the blood slipping through his fingers, your pale, cold cheek, and lifeless eyes staring up at him.
“There’s something we need to discuss,” he said gruffly.
You tilted your head at him. Your face was tight and angry now, but you still followed him into the living room. You sat down together on the couch, and with crossed arms, you waited for him to speak.
His elbow rested on his knee while his hand swept over his mouth and beard. Then his gaze slid over to yours.
“You need to take Compound V,” he said.
To say that shocked you was an understatement. Your eyes widened, and your body went rigid.
“Excuse me?” you said lowly.
“There’s no way around it,” he said. Grit was laced in his voice, but you didn’t care.
“I’ve made myself very clear—”
“And you also said we’d revisit this little chat, so here we are,” Ben retorted. “You need to live in fucking reality. I can’t be with you 24/7. I don’t trust those CIA fucks to wipe their own ass, let alone keep an eye on you. Especially when I’m in the field.”
You just managed to lasso in your temper when you finally realized where this was coming from. You inhaled a couple of calming breaths. Your fingers tapped your knees. You sat up straighter before you turned to him more fully.
Your hand reached out to cover his on his thigh.
“Ben,” you started. Soft and even. “What did you dream last night?”
His face tightened further, his lips pressed into a line. It took him a moment, but eventually he answered.
“Nothing. Doesn’t fucking matter.”
“We both know that it does,” you chided.
When he just maintained his stoic façade, you slid closer to him on the couch. You curled a hand around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
You looked up at him.
He didn’t want to break.
You just waited until the green of his eyes met yours.
“Hey. It’s just me,” you said softly. “Talk to me.”
His brows knit together, slightly. His jaw clenched and twitched under his skin.
“I lost you,” he said.
Admitting to that was like admitting that his uniform was a lie; that he had no fear. That he was invulnerable. That he was a god in human form.
But you had become the last human part of him. To lose that would be to lose everything again, worse than 1984.
Somehow, you’d become his reason…for most things. He didn’t think you realized it, nor would he allow himself to tell you.
His eyes closed when you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You let your fingers sift through his hair, brushing it back and away from his forehead.
“Do you know why I want to stay normal?” you asked. "Albeit fragile and breakable."
He didn’t answer, but his eyes silently asked for one.
“Because I want to stay myself,” you said. “Power corrupts, and there’s a big chance I wouldn’t be the woman you loved anymore if I injected that shit into my veins.”
Ben frowned. He hadn’t considered that…but he still felt it was a price worth paying.
You moved off the couch and into his lap. He welcomed you with an arm curling around your waist and another moving up your thigh.
Your arms twined around his neck, and you kissed him properly, nice and slow. He tasted like coffee and maple syrup. His hair was soft between your curling fingers.
You parted from him after a while, just to press another comforting kiss to his temple.
“I know what I’m asking of you, and I’m sorry,” you whispered against his skin. “But we’ll figure something else out.”
“How?” he scoffed, his brows furrowing again. “In a few decades—”
“I thought you didn’t mind a few wrinkles,” you teased.
A smirk flickered across his lips. “You know what the fuck I mean.”
“I know,” you nodded. “But we have time. I promise, we’ll figure this out.”
Ben didn’t totally believe you. There was going to come a time where you were going to have to make a choice: between him and your principles.
It wasn’t fair, but that was the reality. Life wasn’t fucking fair.
Until then, maybe he could make one concession.
“If you want…” he said. You leaned back enough to see his face.
He met your gaze. “We can go to dinner later. In the city.”
A slow smile spread across your face.
“But we’re getting a private room,” he warned, squeezing your hips. “And we’re driving there and back. That’s it.”
Your smile warmed further, and kissed the corner of his mouth. You were sure you could convince him to go a Broadway show afterwards, if you plied him in a few key ways...
“I like the idea of a private room,” you said.
His fingers crept up your pajama pants, drifting down between your thighs. His thumb started to stroke warmth through your panties. It had you smiling, sighing, subtly pressing into his hand.
His smirk deepened.
“You do, don’t you?” he said.
You let out a breathy laugh at the change in him. It didn’t take much to get him worked up. So you hugged him close and spoke into his ear all the things you had planned for him tonight.
Before, and after dinner.
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AN: Lol I love writing this lovable asshole. 💚 Especially in the BMD-verse.
I have more Dean imagines coming soon! Including a requested sequel to "You are Dean's one exception," in which Sam "crosses the line"... 🫣
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
BMD Tag List (Part 1):
@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67
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paimonial-rage · 19 days
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symbiosis - ayato
[random writing event] | requested by @andromeda-nova-writing
“My lord,” you began, “With all due respect, this is exactly why the new interns never last long.”
Ayato hummed in thought as he made his way down the halls of Tenshukaku. Upon his face was his usual smiling expression, a mask he learned early on in his career as Yashiro Commissioner. And there you were a few steps behind him as was proper for retainers.
“Is that so?” He replied with mock curiosity. “I can’t say I saw anything wrong with how the meeting went. Such is normal for the course of the commission, after all.”
He didn’t have to turn around to know you were shaking your head in exasperation.
“With all due respect, supporting you through seven financial meetings, four meetings with the branch families, thirteen inspections, and eight financial reports due by the end of the week would make even a competent worker cry.”
He nodded with a hand against his chin in thought.
“Yes, not even I expected they would break out into tears.”
“Excuse my forwardness, but any normal person would have learned to expect it by now. Perhaps it would be prudent to schedule a visit with the doctor to check your memory, my lord.”
He chuckled.
“The way you find such things to say is fascinating. Perhaps I should assign more work to devote more of your creative mind to.”
There was silence for a few seconds.
“My apologies, my lord. Unfortunately, my schedule is completely full. Perhaps another time.”
As he continued to his next engagement, Ayato couldn’t help but find it amusing the back and forth you both often had. You were a spy, after all, and not one of his. That being said, you were not anyone else’s either, much less one of his enemies’. You infiltrated the Yashiro Commission and worked your way up to his side based purely on personal motives.
Though it was well known he placed loyalty and trust above all else, you were a bit of a special case. A bit of research into you revealed you were from a fallen family subordinate to the Hiiragi clan. Through corruption and intimidation, your father was framed for bribery and theft and was thus executed by the Shogun herself. It would make sense that you, as the only child of the family, wanted revenge.
Thus, it was a smart move on your part to align yourself with the Yashiro Commission. As Ayato had connections and leads from all over Inazuma, as long as you remained by his side, you gained access to all the information you could ever need. As to why he didn’t expel you the moment he learned of your difference in loyalty? Your enemies were the same as his, but ones he couldn’t touch. It served him just as well that you would get rid of them.
Besides, he had to admit your company was much appreciated. You performed your duties effectively and efficiently without room for complaint. And though you had a tongue on you, it gave a reprieve from all the false smiles and niceties he had to endure on a daily basis. Dare he say it, he enjoyed being around you. It made him wonder…
“And once that time comes that you’re finally free, what will you do then?”
Would you leave, finally able to live your life for yourself?
He didn’t have to wait long for your response.
“I’ll devote my everything to you, my lord.”
He couldn’t stop the smile that came to his lips.
“Then I shall hold you to it.”
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terry-perry · 8 days
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Just Business?
Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader
Part 2 to this imagine
Technically Part 3 if you wish to include these headcanons
Requested by @lokis-imaginary-friend: If you’re not averse to it I had a thought while reading this….what if y/n overheard this conversation and feels as though she’s being treated as a transaction. Idk I could just see some angst coming from this for y/n followed by whatever fluff you come up with.
Additional tags: @martinys-world
Fluff will come in a later chapter (hopefully). Enjoy!
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You walked home with a spring in your step. You were happy to find the perfect set of pajamas for your boyfriend. Alastor didn't require much sleep, based on the nights you spent together and he'd spend most of them watching you, lurking among the swamp in his room, or tending to the hotel. Regardless, you knew he wanted to look his best even at more casual hours like bedtime. It was great then that you found the red silk pajamas that were perfect for him, especially since you found a matching robe that reminded you of his regular attire.
It'd been about six months since you'd been together and things were going well. Now that things were public too, you enjoyed your time more freely. The fact you two were going out interested many people, with gossip of it being all over the news. Thankfully, the paparazzi weren't stupid enough to film your dates. They must've heard the screams of that one photographer who was bold enough to sneak a photo of you on a picnic date by the Lake of Fire. Alastor was sure to broadcast his torment over a rendition of La Vie En Rose as a reminder not to intrude on your alone time.
You knew the kind of man/demon Alastor was before you became a couple. You heard the stories as well as his broadcasts. You were there during the sudden disappearances of various overlords and how it coincided with said broadcasts. No sane sinner would want to risk getting involved with someone like him. Due to how more curious than afraid of him you were and how touched and important you felt whenever Alastor threatened others who disrespected you, you had an inkling that your sanity wasn't all there. That was okay with you; you were already in Hell.
Your mother approved of him as did your sisters, which resulted in another reason you grew to love him. He enjoyed spending time with your family, too, judging from how he'd come to dinner, joke with Clara and Odette, and share light pleasantries with Carmilla. You could see they were really warming up to him and vice versa.
You might not have tamed the beast, but it certainly amazed you how much of him you got to have for yourself. It was almost too good to be true.
You were finally home after spending some time at the mall. You don't know why your mother needed you out of the house but you didn't question it. She was sometimes wary of those who did business with the family and would rather let herself handle things. If she was still talking with them, you'd do your best to sneak into your room.
Upon entering the manor, however, you heard your mother say some things that made your ears perk up:
"You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"
Her daughter? Who exactly was she talking about, and to whom? Her voice was coming from the library it seemed. You did your best to creep over and stood outside to hear more. What came next was certainly a shock:
"Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come from a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"
You felt sick to your stomach just then. What was that; did you hear that correctly? He made it sound like you were just a pet to him - a mere plaything with a purpose.
A humiliating desire to cry swept through you, along with a small hope that your mother would put him in his place. She wouldn't take someone using her daughter lightly.
"If I were you, I'd do the same, I suppose,"
Now that's what brought out the tears.
What the hell was going on?
"You'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her."
Breathing became difficult as this unexpected betrayal weighed on your broken heart. Was this all just a plan between Alastor and your mother? Was this all a big matchmaking con that would lead to good benefits for them?
"You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction."
You never thought your mother would have the gall to sacrifice your happiness for business purposes. She was always the type to lay her life on the line for you and your sisters. She did just that during the last Extermination Day when facing a team of Exorcists. To hear that the woman you grew up admiring treated you like a piece of property was too much to handle.
Let's not forget about Alastor! You actually believed he cared about you. Were all those times you went out on lunch and dinner dates, spent time with each other's loved ones, and shared intimate dances just part of a ruse to get you to fall for him? The fact you were nothing but entertainment with benefits saddened and embarrassed you because what everyone said about him was right.
You were right; this was all just too good to be true.
You now were fueled with anger and decided to use it to confront the two traitors.
"A transaction?"
Upon hearing your voice, Carmilla and Alastor turned towards the doorway where you stood defiantly with the Carmine glare on your face. Your normally well-composed mother expressed more worry than you ever saw her with. Meanwhile, Alastor kept his large grin as usual, but you could tell he was shocked due to how big his eyes were, and it almost looked too painful for him to smile.
"Y/N-"
"Is that all I am to the two of you?" You asked, blinking back tears. "A business deal - just a prize to be won? Is that why you needed me out of the house Mom? To discuss my dowry?"
Carmilla's astonishment kept her from speaking. She wanted to explain that this was simply a way to assure you a good future if you continued things with Alastor and that no harm would come to you, but she was at a loss for words seeing how betrayed you looked.
"And you Alastor!" You rounded on him next. The man you loved for half a year but now don't even know what to make of him. He's practically a stranger now. "I knew you weren't a saint, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to only date me for my family. I can't believe you'd use me like that!"
"Y/N," he began, getting out of his seat to go towards you with more emotion than you ever saw him, even with his smile remaining. "Sweetheart, you misunderstand -"
"You saw me as nothing but a prize," you uttered quietly, backing away from him with your head down. "You already have connections to the throne, so it's best to protect it with your connection to the biggest collection of weapons in Hell, right?"
His silence spoke to you more than any clever words he could conjure up for you. His silence spoke the truth.
You didn't stay much longer, especially since neither could bother to give you a proper response. You ran out of the house, ignoring their pleas to stay. You needed to get away and reflect on everything.
Alone.
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duckdodger · 8 months
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Official tmnt tik tok account made their own aprilnardo edit oh my god man 😭
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spicyvampire · 1 year
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Choose your player wisely : Bodyguards Edition requested by anonymous [in/sp.]
KINNPORSCHE (2022)
+ Bonus : The Dead Mean Girls
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heyytalia · 1 year
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Saw the Mario movie today. It's amazing!!
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While it's not a 100% perfect film (certain parts felt rushed, and others needed fewer pop songs), it still felt like a huge love letter to all things Mario and was super cute overall. I liked the voice acting more than I expected I would (Jack Black Bowser = PERFECTION), and the animation was beautiful. I hope there's a sequel because there's a lot of potential. 7/10 for me.
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snivyartjpeg · 3 months
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oh my god they were roommates
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Minthara Beanre x Reader
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TWs/Tags: Dom!Minthara, Sub!reader/Tav, horny telepathy stuff, size difference (if you squint), mild bondage, begging, extremely minor (non-sexual) reference to gore, AFAB reader but gender-neutral terms are used
As requested by @superanonymousthethird
I hope you like it :3
Sent to siege their leaders, you and your cohorts walked through the damp, goblin-infested halls of the former temple. After passing the guard’s inspection, you wandered the unfamiliar building with them in mind— the cleric, the hobgoblin, and the Drow. You entered an open room with a war table. And leaning above it was her, the Drow. She looked up from the map to gaze at you intensely, a scorching-hot carmine stare to make your stomach drop. With a gulp, you could feel her presence suppress your former sense of confidence. As she turns to you, her thoughts mingle with yours. With your security shook, your tadpoles connect telepathically. “Another True Soul?” Her eyebrows pinch together curiously. “You will join me. I’ve been tasked by the Absolute to exterminate these vermin non-believers.” You nod in response, eager to follow her command to your partymembers’ concern. You learn the Drow’s name to be Minthara as she further presses you for information on the whereabouts of the tiefling colony.
“It appears we are organized to commence the onslaught.” She grins venomously. “I thank you for your cooperation, True Soul. We will leave at dawn to fight. But I am afraid I will not be finished with you by then.” With that comment, she leaves you until the morning.
The day begins with you fastening your armor undisturbed. Suddenly, a presence perturbs your thoughts. You don’t need her to be there physically to know that Minthara is communing with you.
“I will see you on the battlefield, yes?” Her shrill, commanding voice rings through your mind. Images of you and her flash in front of your eyes— her body over yours in ascendency, binding your wrists. You gasp from the shocking sight, your face flushed as her devious chuckle plays through your mind via tadpole. “I hope that’s not too ardent for my True Soul.” The cocky comment echoes before she severs the connection.
You return from the battle drenched in blood and viscera. Forgoing the celebration, you clean your body and armor of the remnants of the battle. Occupying your mind unrelentingly was not the dozens of lives you claimed just hours ago, but Nightwarden Minthara. This, she could sense. Restraining herself from teasing you with more projections of yourselves together, she instead approaches you outside the matters of the mind.
“Not concerned with the celebration, True Soul?” Minthara looks down at you as you sit on a stool beside the flowing river. Unlike the others, she adorns her full armor; augmenting her prowess. You feel underdressed in comparison, wearing only your undershirt and pants. She stares at you as she kneels down to your level. “You fought excellently against those blasphemers.” She reaches to unbutton your shirt. You’re paralyzed as she dotes on your shirt, pulling it off of you. She stands back, expecting you to stand up. When you don’t respond as such, she gently grabs your wrists to lead you to the nearby partially collapsed structure. Sandwiching your body between hers and the wall, she aggressively puts her lips on yours. She licks your bottom lip; your jaw drops for her. “So obedient.” She says as her hand holds your chin, angling it so your gaze matches hers.
“Now, will we be executing those trussed-up fantasies you’ve been having? I want you nice and secure when I take you tonight.” You nod vehemently in agreement. “It is decided,” she chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Tonight, you are mine.”
She pushes you down to sit beneath her. Piquing your curiosity, she reaches for something in a concealed pocket. As she takes it out, you can see a collection of leather straps, completely unused. “As you can see, I’ve anticipated this encounter with you. The Absolute operates is mysterious ways, would you say?” She remarks rhetorically as she wraps them around your wrists, binding them together above your head. She stands back, looming above you as if admiring an artwork of her creation. Leaning back down to your level, she angles her arm above your head, holding both of your bound hands in her singular, larger one. She bows down for another kiss, holding your cheek with her free hand. That free hand soon travels down your abdomen and into your trousers. At a single touch of your cunt, you moan into the kiss. “Hmm, sensitive are we?” She whispers sadistically, clearly deriving amusement from your whimpers. She continues by dipping a pair of fingers into your heat. A loud gasp escapes your mouth in response. When was the last time you did this again?
Minthara pushes her fingers in, diving deeper against the inside of you while still sucking at your lips. You struggle against her as she senses the tension building in your core. The tension rises and gets tighter until she suddenly removes herself from you. Deprived, you look up to her with a confused expression.
“Don’t worry, little one. I’ll allow you finish.” She moves down lower, pulling down your pants farther. “But I have to know you want it.”
Your face grows red at her words. She wants you to beg for release. “Please. Please, Minthara,” you begun, unsure of what to say.
“Is that all you have for me, little warrior?” She stares at you, unimpressed, as she teased a thumb against your clit.
“Please, Minthara, I need your mouth, your tongue. I need you. I’m yours,”
“That was just perfect, little one.” She smirks with endearment before yanking the trousers off your legs, leaning down to tongue your clit. You cry out in pleasure again, gripping her hair gently as she goes down on you. She holds your torso in place, pulling you closer when needed. She licks and laps at your cunt, eating you out ravenously. That familiar tension builds and knots in your stomach again. This time, Minthara intends to see your completion the whole way through. Your jaw drops once more and your eyes roll into the back of your skull as she licks a final stripe up your lips.
As you ride out the high, she makes her way up your body to kiss you again. This time, it’s slow and tired, but all-the-same genuine. She unties you before laying down next to you. You hold onto her form tightly, legs still shaking. Not having the heart to move you from her, she takes your weakened body in her arms and you doze off together.
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caparbales · 6 months
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Aurelia Hammerlock
an old request I made for @noelleroseland
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abysskeeper · 1 month
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Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid. For whoever catches your fancy!
(¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ...sorry)
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“And…there,” Nox mumbled to herself as she plunged the bottom of her staff into the damp ground.
She took a step back from the last of her work and glanced around to appraise the scene she had spent crafting in the last fifteen or so minutes. Mourning Frost stood straight up like a beacon in the darkness of the lands, illuminated by the magic of her Light cantrip while cold mist bellowed off of it from its enchantments. Behind her, part of the river remained frozen from a well-placed Cone of Cold spell and glowed mystically with the floating orbs from the Dancing Lights she casted in the area. It was as good as she was going to get given her surroundings. All in all, she was satisfied, and now all she had to do was move the modified Sleet Storm over here and everything would be set to go.
Everything but her nerves, at least.
Nox sighed and dusted her hands on her robes, taking a quiet moment to gather herself before embarking back up from the riverbank and into the central courtyard of the Last Light Inn. The courtyard itself looked exactly like the winter wonderland she was attempting to create down by the river, which was no surprise. The first, magical storm she conjured was still going, thick snowflakes still gently falling from the clouds above. The light from Isobel’s shield around the inn glinted off the snow and ice on the ground, making the whole area glitter, and there was a stillness in the air that she had only ever felt in the throes of winter’s weather.
The scene was far more befitting the lands closer to the Dale than the wilting town struggling under Shar’s shadows, but then, that was the entire point. She had wanted to create one night to celebrate their small victories and set everything else aside for a few hours.
There were significantly more celebrants indulging in the magical snow when she slipped away, though. In the time it took for her to go down and back, it seemed like most everyone had dispersed to tend to the rest of their nightly duties before going to bed. Only a few remained meandering about in the courtyard, and it took her a moment before she zeroed in on her sister standing off to the side, leaning against one of the makeshift barricades as she surveyed the area.
“Hey,” Nox greeted as she beelined for the paladin. “Are we alright up here?”
Lux hummed in thought for a moment, blue eyes trailing over the courtyard before she finally nodded. “I think so. Alfira and Lakrissa shepherded the kids to bed with no complaints, so that alone is a win,” she reported.
Nox smiled, managing to tire the kids out enough that there was no backtalk was a win.
“Bex and Danis, as well as some of the Harpers, helped clean up some of the smaller things and have gone off to bed. And Rolan actually wanted to speak with you,” Lux added. She shrugged and glanced at her, answering before Nox could ask, “Don’t know about what, Cal and Lia managed to convince him to go to bed too before you got back.”
“Probably for the best,” Nox muttered. Rolan wasn’t the most contentious relationship she’d ever had with a fellow wizard; in comparison to some he was downright friendly, but after their last encounter with him drunk on both the ale and his sorrows, she wasn’t particularly looking to have another conversation with him quite so soon.
“Probably,” Lux agreed. “Otherwise, everything else is back to normal. Jaheira’s barking orders at the Harpers again to get them back to work. Those not on the nightshift are settling in for the night like everyone else.”
“Not surprising,” Nox chuckled. They hadn’t known the High Harper for long, but it didn’t take any time at all to realize the woman was a hardass. She cared, that much was obvious too, but it was hidden behind three layers of steel. “But…good.”
Content with what her sister told her, Nox nodded to herself and raised her hand. With a wave, she felt the threads of the Weave relax between her fingers. In turn, the snow stopped falling from the sky and, a moment later, what was left coating the ground started to melt away.
Her gaze slipped from the dissipating storm and her eyes fell shut. Her attention turned towards the magic resonating from Mourning Frost, still standing some hundred or so meters away where she left it stuck in the ground. Her hand flicked, the Weave answering her movement by coalescing into a misty-white orb of concentrated magic resting in her palm. “Impero tibi,” Nox whispered, and the orb flickered and burst as she casted another, gentle storm over her staff.
She inhaled through her nose and opened her eyes, turning her focus back to Lux. Her sister was staring back at her curiously and biting the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. Nox resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “If there’s nothing else, then…?” she asked instead.
“There’s nothing else,” Lux confirmed as her smile broke containment. “Go on, go be gross with your wizard,” she said with a shooing motion.
Nox did roll her eyes at that. “I’m not going to be gross with him,” she scowled. That definitely wasn’t the point of what she was trying to do, but Lux had been misconstruing her intentions ever since she brought the idea up with her. “And he’s definitely not ‘my wizard,’” she huffed.
“Sure, sure,” Lux agreed, definitely more in an effort of appeasement than genuine agreement. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who believes that, though.” Without waiting for a reply, she pushed off the barricade and started back for the main building of the inn.
“I…”
Nox cut herself off and followed after her sister, uncertain of how to refute that. It was an argument she was growing tired of having, and she’d resigned to the fact she couldn’t sway what other people believed about her and Gale’s relationship. She also couldn’t deny the small tingle the thought sent through her chest, the kind that made her happier than she cared to admit to, and the kind she would never give Lux the satisfaction of knowing she had.
“That’s not the point,” she said finally.
“I know,” Lux shrugged, “But it’s fun to rile you up.”
Nox responded the only way she knew how and stuck her tongue out at her sister; Lux just grinned back at her and shoved her shoulder. “Besides,” Lux added after a moment, “I do hope you succeed. I’d really like for Gale to take a step back from his whole ‘blowing himself up’ plan too. We all would.”
Right.
That wasn’t quite the goal she was trying to achieve tonight either, but it was a step in the process. Ever since they had encountered Elminster and he charged Gale with Mystra’s orders to end the Absolute, Nox had been driving herself to near insanity while trying to dissuade him from that path. She outright refused to believe the only way they could succeed was by sacrificing one of their own; it was utterly cruel and such a waste of a brilliant mind and even more brilliant man and she…well, she wasn’t focusing on how upsetting it was to her. Her feelings on it didn’t matter, Gale’s did.
Unfortunately, Gale was more than willing to go along with his marching orders. Not without remorse, the way his voice wavered whenever he spoke about the possibility and the way he grew increasingly frustrated with her every time she broached the subject were more than enough proof to her that he didn’t want to die, but he was still moving forward as if it was the best plan they had. She was beginning to run out of time, and as they stepped closer and closer to the answers they sought, she was growing increasingly frantic with her measures. Regrettably, she was also running out of options, the only two left she could think of were either outright forbidding him from blowing himself up or begging him not to—both things she was fully willing to do, but she was doubtful of their efficacy.
After all, how could her words rival those of a Goddess?
But that wasn’t the point. Before she could let herself spiral any further, Nox cut that line of thought off. Tonight was not about another attempt to dissuade Gale from sacrificing himself, at least not directly. She didn’t want to even think about the Orb or Mystra or Ketheric Thorm or the worms in their brains. Tonight was a break they all desperately needed from the tragedies surrounding them, and she refused to let her mood sour. Just for tonight, she wanted to be content.
“Yeah, I hope so too,” Nox mumbled finally, following after Lux as they entered the inn proper.
She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the change in lighting before looking around. Most of their companions had moved back into the first floor of the inn after the festivities outside had concluded. Lae’zel had her sword in her lap and looked prepared to go out to Dammon’s setup to resharpen her blade. Wyll and Astarion sat adjacent to the bar, sharing a bottle of wine and discussing something or other, while Karlach and Shadwoheart started up a passing conversation with two Harpers in between their shifts. Halsin and Jaheira were nowhere to be seen, but that was hardly a surprise—the former had barely left Thaniel’s side since they had rescued the fey child, and the latter was too busy managing her Harpers to make too many appearances.
Which just left the man she was actually looking for.
Her gaze settled on Gale sitting in a char in the back corner of the main room. Predictably, he had a book in hand and a full goblet of wine sitting on the small table next to him. Whatever he had found to read interested him greatly, and Nox stopped to simply admire the way he studied the book, his brows knit in concentration, dark brown eyes flitting across the pages as they ravenously consumed every word, and his free hand drumming an insouciant rhythm on the arm of the chair. The warm light of the candles hanging around the main room glinted off his soft brown hair—illuminating the lighter strands and a few streaks of gray—and cast shadows across his form near perfectly.
Not for the first time, she was forced to acknowledge he was a strikingly handsome man. However, for the first time, she couldn’t help but consider how gods damned unfair it was that Gale was, by all accounts, the picturesque vision almost every one of her female peers dreamed would be their future husband.
Honestly, she never really understood the appeal in her youth. Why dream of a husband when they all still had so much potential in their fingertips? It likely helped that she never had cause to fantasize either; she did not have any suitors when she was younger and never lamented over that fact, it gave her far more time to endeavor in her studies. Now though, having it all laid out in front of her, and after enduring everything she and Gale had already been through and everything they still could go through together…she was found herself much more amicable to the prospect.
“Some-body’s smit-ten!”
Immediately pulled from her thoughts, Nox jumped when her sister leaned over and sang in her ear. “I am not,” she hissed as she stepped back from Lux’s smirking face. Nox hadn’t even realized she was smiling until she felt her lips pull into a frown. “I am just…considering,” she insisted and subconsciously smoothed down her robes. “He looks…content. I don’t want to bother him if he’s settled in for the evening.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, at least.
“You, of all people, are hardly a bother to him,” Lux rolled her eyes. “Besides, we all just came in from your little snow party anyways, I doubt he’s ‘settled in’. And it’s better to interrupt him now before he’s really into whatever it is he’s reading.”
There was truth to her words, though Nox knew her twin well enough to catch what she was really saying. Lux wasn’t going to let her back out of her plan, which she had no intention of doing, never mind the way she tugged at her sleeves or felt a sharp churning in her gut at the mere thought of walking over to him and asking him to accompany her. What she intended for the evening was hardly that big of a deal, she just desperately wanted it to go well.
“Yeah…yeah, I know. You’re right,” Nox said and heaved a breath. She looked over to Lux with a shaky smile. “Wish me luck?”
“You don’t need luck, Noxy. You got this,” Lux smiled and bumped her hip. “You’ll be fine, so go,” she stressed and nudged her towards the back of the room. “I won’t wait up!” she added over her shoulder before sauntering towards Astarion and Wyll.
“Ugh,” Nox muttered under her breath, fully aware Lux didn’t hear her. Granted, she also knew Lux didn’t need to hear her to know that was her exact response; in the same way she didn’t need to hear Lux chuckling all the way to the bar for her to know that’s exactly what her sister did.
Everything else she said was correct though, Nox didn’t need luck. She was an incredibly skilled wizard with an incredibly detailed plan she had been mapping out during her downtime for the past several days. That aside, even if it weren’t the case, she was still making this attempt with the utmost sincerity, and that was all anyone could really ask for. There was nothing else she could do to ensure it went properly, aside from actually starting it and asking him to join her, which was—naturally—the most difficult part.
Blowing out one more, long breath to still her rattling nerves, she resolved herself and turned to make her way over to Gale.
As she approached, his brown eyes flickered up at her from the book, as one does when they notice movement in their periphery, before returning back to the pages in front of him. She stopped before him and watched as the realization registered in his brain of who was standing in front of him. His eyes lit up and he snapped the book shut.
“Oh, Nox! Hello,” Gale greeted cheerily. He set the book in his lap and smiled up at her. “After your celebration outside, I figured you would retire for the evening.”
“It’s tempting, believe me,” Nox answered with a nervous chuckle.
She could feel the tendrils of exhaustion starting to creep into the edges of her mind—serving more as a reminder she was still not as powerful as she once was rather than as a sign she should stop—but she was choosing to ignore them. She knew she was overexerting herself slightly, but she had already decided it was worth it. The smiles from the refugees and the Harpers were enough alone, and hopefully this would be well worth it as well.
“But…the night isn’t over for me quite yet,” she continued. Realizing that sounded a little more ominous than she intended, she wrung her hands and hastily added, “Well…for us…I guess. I was hoping to talk with you, actually. Do…do you have a moment?”
“Of course. Anything for you,” Gale agreed, and she chose not to ruminate on how easily he said it—as if the thought was second nature. He quickly leafed through the book to mark the page he was on before closing it once more and setting it on the side table next to his wine. “What can I do for you?” he asked, warm brown eyes now solely focused on her.
Gods, how had she not noticed this before? Maybe Lux was right. The only things Nox had ever witnessed him focus on as intently as her right now were his spells on the battlefield, whatever book was lucky enough to capture his complete interest, and his own research and studies. Not that he wasn’t invested in whatever he was doing at any given time, but this was…different. It was more intense, more singularly driven than he usually was, as if the rest of the world simply melted away for him. The inn could spontaneously combust right now, and she wasn’t fully convinced Gale would notice.
You wouldn’t either. Focus, Nox.
“Indulge me?” she asked in return. She pointed behind her towards the inn’s front door and added with a sheepish smile, “I…would appreciate some privacy.”
Gale’s brow rose as his gaze shifted from her towards the door behind her, and then back again. The longer he stared, the hotter she could feel the flames of embarrassment licking at the tips of her ears as she was forced to consider what she just said. She couldn’t really blame him for his silent questioning, that wasn’t the best way to ask and she knew it, but he had been through this with her enough by now to know that any potential innuendo or suggestion she just made wasn’t her intent.
“Very well,” he agreed and rose to his feet before she could clarify. “I must admit, I am intrigued about what you have in mind.”
“Probably not what I just implied,” Nox grumbled. She turned and started for the entrance of the inn, in part to lead the way down to the riverbank, and in part so he couldn’t watch her attempt to contain her blush. She sighed, mumbling, “But by now I am used to making an arse of myself in front of you.”
Gale laughed behind her. “You’re hardly an arse, Nox. I know that is not what you meant,” he reassured. “And my curiosity is genuine. You always come to me with the most fascinating problems or topics of conversation, time spent with you is always quite stimulating, and thus is always time well-spent…in my opinion.”
Instead of containing her blush, she could feel her ears growing hotter with every word he spoke. “Well, if nothing else I can assure you I’m not coming to you with a problem,” Nox answered after a moment. She brushed some hair from her face towards her ears, hoping maybe it would conceal some of the evidence of her embarrassment. “I simply have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” he echoed as he followed after her out the door. “Well, that is…” As he strode up beside her, he grimaced and sighed before inevitably accepting his words were failing him. “…Unexpected.”
Despite herself, Nox couldn’t help but to laugh, and the bundle of nerves sitting in her stomach started unraveling. He had that effect on her, even his blunders were unwittingly charming. “I should certainly hope so, given the nature of surprises,” she teased and threw a grin up at him.
“You know, I am regularly accused of grand verbosity, as most wizards are. I’ve probably had the complaint lobbed at me more than some of the greatest scholars of the realms, and I still somehow so often flounder it with you, Moon Mage,” Gale huffed lightly. “I swear I was cursed not long after making your acquaintance.”
“It’s oft said simplicity is the key to success,” she pointed out, unable to wipe the playful smile off her face. “It is hardly my fault that you do not heed such advice.”
“I suppose there is some merit to advice like that when it is so commonly proffered, and now offered again from someone as intelligent as you,” he sighed with an overexaggerated roll of his eyes. “Fine, then I’ll ask plainly: where are you taking me? What is this surprise?”
Nox tutted and shook her head. “That’s hardly the nature of surprises either,” she answered, but motioned for him to follow her through the courtyard. “You’ll find out soon enough. Come, we’re not going far.”
If Gale had any further, burning curiosities, he did not voice them. He followed after her through the courtyard of the inn and down the slope to the riverbank without another word. She only had to urge him on once, gently tugging on his forearm when he paused to assess the fact the temperature was noticeably dropping as they moved closer to the river. She finally allowed him to stop completely when the results of her magic came into view.
“Nox…?” he asked softly. His footsteps came to a halt with a crunch on the edges of the snow and ice on the ground.
She glanced towards the new, snowy winter wonderland she had created and took in the scene again. Perhaps it wasn’t as subtle as she would have liked, but it was far too late to change anything else now. It was obviously different to the snowy evening she gave the tieflings and Harpers, being a smaller area and more dimly lit. Looking at it again, it was clearly much more intimate, and with that realization she could feel panic seize her throat. It wasn’t that she minded if it was read like that—she should mind, but she didn’t—but if Gale considered it that way and it was not what he wanted, then she would suddenly have a lot of backtracking and explaining to do before she could even attempt to get him to enjoy it, which she certainly hadn’t planned for and had no idea where to even begin—
As quickly as it came, the panic subsided the moment she turned back to address him. Gale was staring up at the gentle snowfall with thinly veiled awe, the light of his smile reaching his eyes as he held out his hand to catch a few flakes on his palm. Nox felt every muscle ease at the sight, and her heart melted more as she watched him hold out his other hand to catch even more of the snow. He had a similar reaction in the courtyard earlier when he first saw the conjured snowfall with the others, but it was interrupted by everyone else also marveling and having fun. Now they were alone—uninterrupted—and the sight of his unabashed joy made all of this preparation worth it on its own.
When he turned his gaze back on her, he somehow only brightened more. “What is all this?”
“Oh, you know…” She shrugged one shoulder sheepishly and swept her eyes over the snow again. “I wanted a party for two is all, just for a little while,” she answered after a moment. “I know it’s nothing compared to Waterdhavian winters,” she added quietly, “But as I said earlier, I figured any small bit of wonder in this land of bleakness was a worthy endeavor.”
“This is no small bit of wonder, Nox,” Gale said with a small shake of his head. He brushed his hands together before resting one gently on her shoulder. “This is magnificent. Truly magical in every sense of the word.”
Something fluttered in her chest at the praise. “I’m glad you think so,” Nox said, relief and sincerity washing through her. She held his gaze with a smile, indulging the warmth blooming in her chest for a few moments, before the realization rang out in her mind that she could simply stay like this forever, but the moment was stretching for too long.
“However…” She cleared her throat and took a reluctant step away from him. “In addition to being pretty, it is also serving a purpose. Follow me.”
She walked over to the bag she left sitting by one of the rocks and knelt down to dust off the coating of snow resting on top. “You’re going to need these,” she declared, pulling a pair of boots out of the bag. She gave them a once over before holding them out for him to take.
Gale also gave them a look over, very obviously feeling the Weave emanating from them. “And these are…?” he asked, taking them from her and turning them over in his hands.
“I’m calling them the Ice Stompers.” That alone should tell him what they were, but she decided to add some context. “Do you remember how I was using the excuse of needing to train my transmuting skills in order to give you more items to consume for the Orb?” she asked and closed the bag.
“Oh, so you are admitting the Orb was the primary reason now?” he asked lightly.
Nox shrugged again and stood back up, brushing snow off of the lower parts of her robes. “I figured you were never fooled, and it is in the distant past…you can’t scold me or try to dissuade me from making the effort now,” she answered. “Also, beside the point. That endeavor did also better my transmutation skills. We…’lost’ the last pair of boots we had that worked well against difficult terrain—” ‘Lost’ was the kinder way of putting it to him, but his lips still pulled into a frown. “—So, I made a new pair. Specifically for ice, in this case.”
“Alright…” Gale said slowly, clearly trying to piece together why that was the case. Despite his confusion, he still did as she asked, dropping one of the boots to the ground and toeing out of his own before stepping into it.
“Do they fit?” Nox asked, head tilting as she examined the boot he now wore. She had gone through a lot of trouble to ensure the size of his boots without letting him onto anything, and she had a hunch the ‘unspecified favor’ she now owed Astarion was going to cost her. If the intel was correct though, then she would happily pay any price.
“They do,” he nodded before repeating the process with the other boot. “Though, I am still unclear as to why I need them.”
“Well…”
It was easier to show him. Without answering, she stepped around him and walked to the part of the river she froze. Tentatively, she placed a foot on the ice and tested its sturdiness before putting her full weight into the step. Certain it was frozen enough by now to not give away, she confidently strode fully onto the ice and slid a bit before turning around and grinning at him, hand outstretched.
Gale stared at her incredulously for several seconds, before eyeing the ice skeptically and then looking back up at her with the same, unconvinced gaze. “You are aware my knees are liable to give way at any moment, correct? Especially in a cold snap such as this?”
It was about the reaction she expected from him. “You do not get to play the old age card to an elf, Gale,” Nox teased.
“I rather think I do, given the biological differences in our aging processes.”
Despite his obvious reticence, Gale still walked over to her, though kept his feet firmly rooted to the snowy grass. “Nox, I know of your confidence on the ice, given your predilection towards the element, so surely by now you must know of my lack thereof? I am hardly as graceful as you,” he said and shot her a small, wry smile. “Might I inquire as to why you thought of this for your ‘party of two’?”
That was also about what she expected in terms of a reaction. She figured he would be reluctant—and she couldn’t entirely blame him—but she had hoped maybe he would humor her, just this once. Nox sighed, attempting not to let too much disappointment shine on her face, but before she could drop her hand, his palm slid against hers. She looked down at their hands and then up to his face, brow raised in question. Gale hadn’t moved from the grass, but one side of his mouth tipped upwards, and he shrugged.
Alright, if he wasn’t fully against the idea, then she could at least work with that. “Do you want the real answer?” she asked. “Or do you want the logical answer I knew I needed to come up with for when you looked at me like I had finally lost my mind at the mere suggestion?”
“Oh, I didn’t expect to have a choice,” Gale chuckled. After thinking it over for a second, he decided, “Let’s start with the logical answer.”
“That’s simple,” she said and held up her finger. “One, we are going to be squaring off against an allegedly immortal man who is more than likely the reason—or part of the reason—we have illithid tadpoles in our heads. Two—” She held up another finger. “—I am, among other things, a wizard predisposed towards ice magic. I am, however, not as well-trained of an evoker as you, and my spells are not always meticulously sculpted.”
She held up a third finger, and with her other hand, tugged on his to pull herself closer to him. “And three, as you’ve already implied, you, dear Wizard of Waterdeep,” she addressed him with a poke to his chest, “Are not the most graceful when it comes to keeping your balance…to put it delicately. You could use some practice before we face our foe, lest you instead wind up falling on your face from a spell I needed to cast.”
“Hm…”
He was mulling over her answer with serious consideration, but as his brown eyes narrowed in thought, she could see a familiar, playful spark igniting under the veneer of genuine deliberation. “I take some offense to that, but as they are my own words and your logic is sound, I suppose I cannot refute it,” he relented.
Given how their debates had gone in the past, that was almost too easy. Still, Nox smirked, rather pleased it hadn’t taken that much to convince him. Yet, her victory was cut short when she stepped back to pull him onto the ice, and instead he pulled her right back to stand in front of him.
“Except,” he countered, his own smile slipping through, “It does beg the question that if you are so concerned over this, why are you not training your spell sculpting in order to be more accommodating?”
Her smirk fell into a pout, and she huffed. “Of these two complications, one is much easier to remedy in the short term,” she pointed out. “I chose the quicker option for our current timeline. Unless you would rather explain to everyone else why we are stalling through the several nights it would take for me to be able to utilize spell sculpting as naturally as I do arcane warding?”
“I would gladly assist you with that, you know,” Gale offered. “You are a quick study on what few skills you do not already possess. It would hardly take any time at all.”
“And you are insufferable,” Nox muttered under her breath, though it carried no bite whatsoever. Something he acknowledged if the way his lips twitched upward was any indication. He enjoyed teasing her far too much. “Alright, how about this, then?” she asked and smiled sweetly up at him. “Step on the ice now, and I swear we will start tomorrow evening.”
Gale laughed, but finally conceded to her request. Hesitantly, he placed one foot on the ice, followed closely by the other. His grip tightened around her hand as she stepped back and he slid in front of her. Nox offered her other hand, which he took readily, before she took another step and pulled him along with her. His legs shook some with the effort to stay steady, but the magic she embedded in the boots held to its purpose of keeping him upright.
“See?” Nox giggled, delighted as they started moving—albeit slowly—around the frozen portion of the river. Her eyes trailed from watching his feet up to meet Gale’s gaze, which rested pleasantly on her. “It’s not so bad, right?”
“No, it isn’t,” he agreed quietly. “Few things are with you.”
He held her stare and she felt as though she were just caught under a Charm spell of his, incapable of glancing away from his purposeful gaze while the sweet words he offered repeated in her mind. Had her presence truly eased him that much? Before she could offer a response, or even process what to make of what he said, one of his legs wobbled again and he leaned forward, his hands pressing harder against hers to steady himself once more.
“Right…well…” Gale coughed to clear his throat. “Now that I have conceded to your wishes, may I ask what the real answer is?”
“Of course,” she agreed, though her voice was distant.
She said nothing for a few moments, instead letting them gain a bit more momentum as she took the steps to mentally shake herself from her temporary stupor. Once her shock from the moment had passed—and she quickly quelled her disappointment over the fact he was no longer gazing at her—she settled on taking her own advice regarding simplicity from earlier. She let go of one of his hands and swung around, gliding beside him.
“Gale…when was the last time you simply had fun with magic?”
“What?” Gale sputtered, nearly tripping over himself with how quickly he turned to look back at her. She put an arm around his waist to steady him, then met his gaze once he settled from his flailing. “I enjoy magic and indulging the Weave every day,” he said quickly. “I thought you would understand that better than anyone.”
“I do, obviously,” she reassured him. “I enjoy orchestrating the Weave as much as the next mage whenever it is necessary, but that isn’t what I meant.”
She let go of his waist after she was assured he was steady again, then took a few steps ahead to actually skate across the ice rather than simply sliding. When she turned around to face him, she pointed at his feet to encourage him to follow suit.
“What I meant is exactly what I asked: when was the last time you used magic for fun?” she clarified. “Not for battling purposes, not for healing or taking care of others, and not for maintaining or proving your place in society. When did you last use magic exclusively for entertainment?”
“Ah…well…”
In place of giving an answer, he mimicked her motions and took a step on the ice. When he didn’t immediately slip, he looked down at his own feet in amazement, and then took another step. He smiled up at her, pride written across his face from managing to skate without falling, only for it to slowly falter and sober as he reconsidered her question.
“I…should suppose it has been a while, under those conditions,” he admitted. “Not since I was with Mystra, I think…though I did not believe you wished to hear more about that, and honestly I would much prefer not speaking on it further now, all things considered.”
Nox sighed. He was correct in his assumptions that she did not want to hear more about his relationship with Mystra—just mention of the Goddess made her almost recoil—but he still wasn’t understanding what she was asking. “That is fair, and also not what I meant. I meant fun, Gale,” she stressed the word to impart its meaning. “Something just for you, something exclusively for your enjoyment, without trying to impress or entertain anyone else.”
Neither of them had explicitly said it, but it was obvious to her at least that during his entire relationship with the Goddess of Magic, Gale was not doing anything without the express intent of impressing her. It was understandable, with him being a mortal and her being a goddess, but the concept was…well it was why it enraged her so. It was upsetting, and the damage was clearly done. That was definitely not what she meant, that ultimately wasn’t fun.
He fell quiet again as he reconsidered her extra clarification, half-skating and half-sliding after her. She watched as his face continued to fall deeper into a frown, and she wondered if he could hear her heart cracking in response in the silence between them.
“It…has been quite a while, then.”
“As I suspected,” Nox muttered. She skated back to his side and reached out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before looking up at him with a small, weary smile. “If it is any consolation, it’s the same for me as well.”
“I wouldn’t call that consolatory,” he said after a moment. He grasped her hand and looked down at her with a similar, exhausted smile. “But I suppose I am glad—and relatively unsurprised—to hear I am not alone.”
They both fell silent for several minutes, skating side by side and letting the shared sentiment rest between them as they lapped the frozen part of the river a few times. Nox watched him carefully as they went, thoughts straying further from the somewhat depressing, shared reality between them. Instead, her mind turned towards the man beside her now. Gale still stumbled here and there but was beginning to get his legs under him even compared to when he first stepped onto the ice. She probably wouldn’t need to watch over him like this for much longer, and that was a shame.
Winter…suited him, she decided. Snowflakes dotted his hair and there was a light, white dusting covering his shoulders, contrasting beautifully against his lightly tanned skin and the dark violet fabric of his robes. The lights of her cantrips shone and reflected in his eyes and in the cold air around him, giving him an even greater mystical—ethereal, even—appearance. The concentration etched into his face as he focused on his balance was equal parts admirable and adorable, though it did nothing to hide the quiet joy radiating from the small, perhaps subconscious, upwards curve of his lips or the wonder as he glanced up at the gentle snowfall.
This was triumph. She was positively giddy this had worked out exactly as she wished, and it took much of her self-control to not spontaneously burst out into giggles from what felt like a thousand butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She kept it contained, mostly because she found her attention drawn in by having the chance to study him in a moment of solitude. For the second time in one night, Nox was struck yet again by the fact that he was, by all accounts, an incredibly handsome man. A fact that was accompanied by the words her sister had spoken to her earlier in the evening.
Smitten. Was that…was that truly what this was?
“Is something wrong?”
Gale’s voice pulled her from her ruminations, and she blinked up at him to find him looking back down at her, bemused.
Right, she was staring.
“No, no. No, nothing’s wrong,” she said quickly. “It’s just…uh…you’re—” Incredibly attractive and it is surprisingly distracting. “—You’re getting better,” she shrugged weakly.
“Oh! I am glad you believe so! I did not want to say anything and risk making a fool of myself if you disagreed, but I was thinking the same,” he chuckled. “The Ice Stompers are a significant help, naturally. If you told me to do this without them, I’m sure I’d still be as stumbling as a baby fawn learning to walk, but I believe I am starting to get a feel for the movements,” he smiled and squeezed her hand again. “And I will admit it is rather enjoyable to be able to accompany you.”
She grinned upon hearing that, beyond thrilled to hear him confirm her initial purpose was a success. “Excellent!” she beamed. Immediately, she registered her enthusiasm as being a little too much and she glanced away. “That’s…that is all I was looking for,” she added, schooling her voice into a calmer tone. “I am incredibly glad to hear it.”
Gale chuckled again and pulled her closer to his side, the action urging her to look back at him. He smiled down at her with warm, contemplative eyes languidly taking her in, and she was yet again mesmerized by how he appeared under the dim lights and gently falling snow. Now, she was also pulled in by how he looked at her: patient, understanding, and with a warmth she could never identify beyond how it made her stomach flip.
“It has been a while for you as well, hasn’t it?” Gale mused after a few moments of thoughtful silence.
“It…” She blinked. “…Pardon?” she fumbled, bewildered as her mind caught up with what he said.
“Apologies, I meant no insult,” he clarified quickly. “I just do not believe I have ever seen you look this…light before.” He immediately frowned and shook his head. “By which I mean, you are usually much more focused and intense with…well, just about everything you do. It is admirable and amazing to witness, mind you! But…”
His eyes softened when he dared to meet her befuddled gaze again. “I have never seen you truly smile like this before, and it is an honor to catch more than a mere glimpse of it. Your smile is a breathtaking sight—you are a breathtaking sight!—but it does put much into perspective.”
“…Oh,” Nox muttered, unable to piece together much else. Her head swam with his words, both the compliment—he liked her smile—and at the underlying implication of what he said. That he knew her enough by now to visibly see she was speaking the truth earlier.
His free hand swung out, motioning towards their surroundings and recentering her on the present moment instead of her runaway thoughts. “You said yourself that it has been a while since you have simply had fun with magic, as well,” Gale repeated softly.
“It is rather obvious when you know, isn’t it?” she asked with an awkward laugh. After a moment, a long sigh escaped her—as much of an acknowledgment of his question as it was to calm her own nerves—and she nodded. “It has been a while; I assure you I was not lying just to sympathize.”
“Then, may I pose your question back to you?” he asked tentatively.
“I…suppose that is only fair,” Nox agreed. It was probably in her best interest to have a change in subject and a topic to focus her thoughts on anyways. “Even though you technically have not yet answered. ‘A while’ is not a satisfactory answer,” she pointed out lightly.
Despite her momentary distraction throwing her completely off-kilter, she had prepared an answer for this question. She had expected he would inquire about her as well simply because, at worst, Gale was never afraid to pose her prying questions back to her, which she respected him all the more for. And at best…he cared for her the same way she cared for him. Either way, she had already figured she would need to answer this question for herself tonight as well.
“Honestly? The night we shared the Weave together was the most fun I have had with magic in a long, long while,” Nox said.
Gale snorted in response and quirked a brow. “I do not believe that night fits the criteria you placed on me. As I recall it, you were trying to upstage me for most of the evening,” he pointed out.
“Indeed I was! And that was the most fun I’ve had in ages!” When he frowned at her, she shook her head and nudged him lightly, enough to tease but not enough to send him sprawling on the ice. “I’m kidding…because you are correct,” she said, sobering. “I did spend most of that night trying to one up and impress you, mostly because I believed I still had something to prove to you. You were the first of our peers in over fifty years who, once you knew who I was, decided I didn’t have something to prove, after all.”
“And I still believe most of our peers are fools for that alone,” Gale interjected.
She flashed him an appreciative smile before continuing, “And yet…despite that, that night was also the first spark in reminding me how much I enjoyed magic on its own.” She glanced down at their still joined hands, her smile slipping with her thoughts. “It was a wake-up call for me to realize how long it had truly been since I last genuinely enjoyed magic for magic. It was also a blatant reminder for how much I used to enjoy sharing it with others, and a blatant contrast for how…”
Nox sighed, her eyes drifting towards the small expanse of snow and ice before them. “Well…for how isolating it has been since my mother passed, if I’m to be honest,” she admitted, her voice nearly cracking. It was a truth she had known for years, one she let lie dormant in the back of her mind, but not one she had ever voiced aloud before. It was high time to acknowledge it, she could acknowledge it now, because of him.
Gale’s hand squeezed around hers, but she didn’t dare look up. She had no desire to cry tonight, and she knew she could get through this small explanation without doing so, so long as she did not look up. If she saw the sympathy shining in his eyes—something she knew would be there no matter what—she wasn’t positive she would be able to hold back.
“I still have people, I know. Lux has quite literally been by my side since we were born, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for the Elturian refugees, I’ve made pleasant acquaintances all along the Sword Coast during my travels, and even now we have our little party of misfits whom I’ve grown to love. I’m not alone…but it’s not the same,” she sighed again. “Magic is the biggest part of my life, and it’s not the same when you can’t share something so instrumental to yourself with others. Or you can share it, but you know they can’t understand it in the way you need them to. I at least had Kalden for a time, but then I lost him in Avernus and…”
She gave one, sharp shake of her head and pulled back the tears pricking her eyes before they started flowing. In the back of her mind, she acknowledged this was probably the most she had spoken about herself since they had met, and the most she had spoken about all she had been through ever. It was not a topic she intended to discuss in full tonight, and not one she wanted to dwell on any longer than necessary, but one she knew she needed to explain—at least in part—in order to impart the sincerity of what she was about to admit. Vulnerability was, unfortunately, the only way she could think of to do as she needed.
Instead of continuing, she took a large breath and squared her shoulders before turning to look back up at Gale. He was watching her silently—a rarity for him—with the sympathy she knew would be there blazing in his eyes and a firm grip on her hand in reassurance.
“My point,” Nox said, forcing the shakiness from her voice. “My point is that you threw me a lifeline that night, Gale. One I didn’t even know I needed until I found myself clinging to it days later.”
“Nox.”
Gale’s hand tightened around hers as he slowed to a stop. He pulled her to stand in front of him once more and let go of her hand to gently reach out and grip both of her arms. “I had no idea that night meant that much to you,” he whispered. His eyes widened a bit with his words, and he was quick to add, “Make no mistake, I enjoyed it immensely and it has quickly become one of my fondest memories, but I never realized you regarded it as highly as you did.”
She gave him a small smile to assuage his concerns. She knew he was being genuine and not simply stating that to appease her, just as she knew that night likely did mean a great deal to him as well.
“No words could properly convey just how immeasurably flattered I am to hear that you do regard that night as you say,” he continued. His thumbs brushed over her shoulders, tracing circles into the bit of snow clinging to her robes. “And I am beyond grateful to know I was able to offer you such safety, however accidentally it was at the time.”
“How accidental it was is the beauty of it, I think,” Nox softly said. It was true they both had ulterior motives that night, but the connection they forged despite that was undeniably ironclad and had genuinely become that lifeline for her. There was something deeply poetic to it that she acknowledged but couldn’t articulate. “And it is also what ultimately led us here. It was what ultimately made me reflect, on myself of course, but also on you.”
“On me?”
She nodded and brought a hand up to lightly rest over one of his, delicately tracing down the backs of his fingers with her own. “The more you spoke of your own experiences—how few, if any, friends you had, how you were isolated away from the world you should have been a part of, the entirety of Mystra and the Orb—the more it felt…familiar. Not exactly the same, but enough. And the more it felt familiar, the more I wished to offer the same to you as you did for me.”
“Oh…” Gale breathed out. “I…” He stumbled over his words, a breathy laugh pushing past his lips instead. “I find myself rather lacking in the proper words at the moment. A year’s worth of isolation and no one, aside from Tara, ever so much as thought to do the same for me as you are now…”
“I know,” she whispered while gently threading her fingers through his. “You don’t have to say anything. Gods above, I rarely have the proper words for a moment and am often rendered silent, it is nice to have the tables turned for once,” she joked.
The corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned at her, and she saw the twinkle of a few tears glimmering in the soft light of her magic. He said nothing further though, simply squeezed her fingers with his in silent appreciation.
“But truly, we all need a break,” Nox continued. She tilted her head to lay her cheek on their joined hands resting on her shoulder. “It has just been rather obvious that you had a higher need than the rest of us, all things considered. So, I wished to offer what I could, recognizing that I was uniquely capable amongst our friends in that regard. A wizard would know best what a wizard needs, after all.”
“It would certainly appear so,” he agreed quietly with a subtle nod.
His eyes trailed from hers down to where their hands rested under her cheek, and she moved her head back when she felt his hand shift against her shoulder. She watched, curious, as he clutched her hand and drew it towards his face. She only had a moment of recognition before his thumb traced down her palm and he leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between her hand and his lips.
“Oh.” The startled gasp escaped her without warning when he placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Her wide eyes looked up from their hands to find a set of warm, brown eyes staring back at her, positively entranced. “Okay…”
“Your sentiment is well-received, Nox,” Gale mumbled, lips ghosting over her skin as his warm breath flitted down the back of her hand and wrist. “And I cherish it well beyond what I am able to properly voice.”
“I am more than satisfied with knowing you are enjoying yourself, though I assure you it’s—” Her lips parted with another sharp intake of breath when he moved up, pressing a kiss to the base of her middle finger. Nox bit down on her bottom lip, barely catching an overwhelmingly exuberant giggle before it bubbled out. A smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth. “—It was truly no trouble at all, hardly worthy of such gratitude.”
“That you genuinely believe it to be no trouble means it is only all the more worthy,” he refuted softly, before kissing her finger one more time and meeting her gaze again. She saw the hints of his smirk hiding behind their hands before he added, “Even if I cannot quite fathom why you believed it was a good idea to bring an old wizard with bad knees into such a cold snap.”
She was lightheaded, her heart ready to burst with the happiness from knowing she was successful and all the praises he was offering her. She couldn’t prevent herself from laughing this time at the absurdity of his teasing in comparison to everything else. “Oh, come off it! You’re hardly old, and you’ve been perfectly fine since we started,” Nox scoffed. With her hand still in his, she pulled him back into moving again as she resumed skating. “You’re truly not going to let this go, are you?”
“It is simply an interesting choice, is all I am implying,” Gale chuckled. He allowed her to guide him back on the ice, though. “And a far cry different than sharing the Weave.”
“Naturally. I had to figure out something different to sharing the Weave, you already laid claim to that,” she responded as if it were obvious. “So, I got to brainstorming and…admittedly, probably lost myself to the nostalgia of everything else.”
His fingers threaded through hers as they fell into a comfortable speed gliding around the ice once more. He appeared confident enough by now that he likely didn’t her as a safety net anymore, but she was in no spot to complain that he was still holding her hand.
“The truth is…I did this often as a child,” Nox admitted. She glanced up at him for a brief moment, and then turned her attention to the falling snow. “I was…not the most social of individuals in my youth—” That was the kinder way to put it. “—I was…different. There are not many elves in Elturel, and not many children were quite as taken with their studies as I was. So when Lux wasn’t around, I often found myself alone with nothing to do, and taken with my studies as I was, practicing what I could of my magic helped ease the boredom and loneliness.”
She smiled as her face turned upward, a few flakes landing on her nose and cheeks. After a moment, she tugged him forward, pulling him towards the center of her magical winter. “It also helped for me to create my isolation in the form of something beautiful. You have enjoyed many a Waterdhavian winters, have you not?” she asked, slowing to stand in the middle of the icy patch on the river.
“Several during my time, yes,” Gale answered.
“Then you understand what it is like to stand in a snowstorm in the middle of the night?” she asked softly, violet eyes searching his face in earnest. When he opened his mouth to answer, she held up a finger and lightly shook her head. “You know the stillness of it? To be surrounded by nothing but the darkness of the night and the white of the snow? To hear nothing but the quiet snowfall mixed with the sounds of your own breath?”
He didn’t try to speak again, and her hand slowly returned to her side. Instead, his gaze focused on hers as their breaths fell in sync. In place of their words, the slight patter of snowflakes against the ice could be heard interspersed between every quiet inhale and exhale they took. There was nothing else, no sound coming from the Last Light Inn or the ravaged, cursed lands around Moonrise Towers. No screams, no laughs, no fighting or struggling for survival.
For one, blissful moment, it was just her and Gale and the quiet snowfall.
It was the stillness she spoke of, the one she knew resided in her heart and the one she had conjured for herself a hundred times. The one she never realized until now—until her chest tightened the longer she gazed up at him in this moment—she had been aching to share with another who would understand.
And Gale did understand, given how his hand tightened around hers and given just how easily his face smoothed into a wonderful tenderness the longer he smiled down at her. Hesitantly, his other hand reached out and gently grabbed at her waist, drawing her just the slightest bit closer. When she didn’t resist—when she couldn’t resist with how erratically her heart beat at the gesture—he settled his hand on her hip and gave the slightest bit of a nod.
“Can you feel it now? How it is to be a single, solitary creature witnessing something marvelous?” she breathed out, her words catching a few times. “To witness something mystical and so tremendously beautiful you only have the opportunity to experience it in the utmost privacy away from the world around you?”
His eyes dipped, slowly trailing down her form and back up again in admiration and—if she dared believe it—longing. “I have always found winter beautiful, but never quite to this degree,” Gale said, barely above a whisper. “Though with you—” He looked over her again as he cleared his throat, presumably to remove the roughness from his voice. “—With how you speak of it, I certainly understand the appeal.”
She spared a sidelong glance towards the snow, her smile light as her face warmed. “It is likely the predisposition towards ice magic that makes me speak of winter as if I’m insane,” Nox joked, feeling an indescribable need to lessen her words for a reason she couldn’t quite place. Embarrassment hung off of her shoulders, but it was not the type she was used to feeling in the face of her own earnestness. It was softer now, and she didn’t quite mind its presence as much.
“I enjoyed it immensely when I was younger, if that isn’t obvious,” she chuckled. “I still immensely enjoy being able to conjure my own personal winter to dance and play in as I see fit. But it’s been well over fifty years since I have last indulged myself, and even then…the last time I did, it wasn’t for myself.”
The last time she had done this had been for Kalden, for his first date with his future wife. It was a fact she briefly acknowledged when the idea first struck her and then one she did not consider again. She was rather keen on avoiding it altogether, having no desire to unpack the implications of that fact, or even let on that any implications existed at all.
“So, with some reflection accidentally brought on by you, I decided it was time to try again,” Nox said instead. “And I thought that this time, perhaps I could share a little piece of my own, personal serenity. I figured, perhaps, you needed it more than I did.”
Gale didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to study her silently with a warm, near-hypnotic gaze. She was enraptured again, unable to glance away from his penetrating, brown eyes as he stared into her own, and unable to speak on anything more. He searched her eyes as if he was looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t voiced, and she was uncertain as to what that could possibly be. When he evidently found whatever it was he sought from her gaze, he finally ducked his head and chuckled in embarrassment.
“I…suppose I should rescind my prior complaints,” he muttered. His head was still bowed, but he glanced over at her from his position and gave her an apologetic smile. “That is monumentally thoughtful, and as only you are wont to do, you have endeared me entirely to the concept.”
She blinked, caught off guard that he was even concerned about that. “You were only joking, I know,” she reassured and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I took no offense, I swear.”
His eyes slid to look at her hand, then back to her face. “Still, this is sincerely one of the most heartfelt things anyone has ever given me,” he said and straightened. “If I had understood how much it meant to you…”
“It’s fine, Gale,” Nox cut him off with a small laugh. “You didn’t have the context because I never gave it to you, and I understand how it could have been easily misconstrued.” She sighed quietly and squeezed his shoulder. “You know, I only ever intended this to be for you.”
It was Gale’s turn to be caught off guard, if how he stared down at her was any indicator. “How do you mean, exactly?”
“The stuff earlier with the refugees and the Harpers?” she asked rhetorically and then shook her head. “That wasn’t in my plan. This was only ever meant for you, but after rescuing the prisoners and reuniting everyone, the atmosphere still felt quite dour.” Understandably so, they had rescued everyone from Moonrise Towers, but that didn’t eliminate the ordeal and all the prisoners had already been through. “I felt obligated to do…well, something, and I already had most of the logistics of it worked out. It wasn’t…this…”
Nox sighed, motioning around them at the snow and lights. “It wasn’t the quiet and the solitude, it wasn’t me trying to impart the peace the snow grants me, but it was a few hours of playful mischief with some winter weather,” she shrugged, “I understand how you could have believed I was asking for the same with you.”
“You care for the refugees a great deal,” Gale said, something like realization lighting up behind his eyes.
“I…do,” she agreed with just a touch of hesitation. “I’ve never made that a secret.”
“Then…I would not be presumptuous to say you also care for me a great deal,” he added quietly. It wasn’t quite a question—if anything it was the second half to a logic puzzle—but his desire for an answer was evident.
“I…suppose,” she agreed tentatively.
She immediately regretted the words the moment they left her lips. That answer was far too hesitant, far too uncertain for a truth she had readily accepted for well over a month now. He deserved to know that truth if he was questioning it. She deserved to say it wholly.
“Yes, I do,” Nox corrected after a moment, sounding much more determined in her answer. “And if you have to question that, I suppose I’ve made that more of a secret than I’ve intended.”
“Or perhaps I was simply refusing to believe what was in front of me,” Gale mumbled, his mind obviously distantly in his thoughts. As if shaking himself, his eyes refocused on her with a sudden clarity, a renewed brightness, and a subtle hint of absolute terror. Her heart flopped over in her chest.
“I understand now, Nox,” he said softly.
After flopping over, her heart leapt into her throat as her wavering gaze snapped up to meet his, startled by his words. “Understand…what, exactly?” she forced out. What was there to understand?
“I understand…” His eyes searched hers again while he trailed off. She probably would have accosted anyone other than Gale, but with him, all she could do was stare back, mystified.
After a moment, he released a breath and shook his head. “I…understand why they call you Archmage,” he answered with a weak smile.
Disappointment dropped low in her gut, though she couldn’t quite place why. His admittance was not what she expected—she wasn’t sure what she expected—though it was enough to calm her racing heart. She swallowed back the lingering lump in her throat before daring to speak. “That’s a people’s title, Gale, nothing more,” she smiled wanly.
“It means the world to them. It matters to them,” he disagreed. His hand pressed into her hip a bit as his eager eyes sought out hers. “Just as it matters to me. It’s admirable, and worth much more than simply being gifted it.”
The sentiment was kind, but she still blew out a breath and shook her head. “Most mages would disagree with you.”
“And as we’ve already established, most of our peers are fools,” he said resolutely. “Most of our peers are quick to write off everyone they meet based on a first glance and snap judgment. The people who know you, who have spent time with you, those who have been under your protection and those who have fought by your side…they are the ones whose opinions matter, because they are the ones whose opinions are true. And the refugees?” he asked rhetorically. “They are the people who know you. They are the ones who like you, who trust you…you make them feel safe, Nox.”
“’Safe’?” she echoed, incredulous. He had a point, and though she was taken aback at how eager he was to get it across, she could admit it was there. She had not given much thought towards what most of their peers considered of her in a long while. But…safety was not where she expected him to end that proclamation.
“’Safe’ is not the word I would expect to be associated with,” Nox chuckled with no small amount of self-deprecation coloring her voice. “Irritating? Sure. Confusing? Certainly. But safe? The blunt, wandering hermit more interested in whatever book her nose found itself stuck in rather than those around her? I doubt most people come away from an interaction with me feeling safe.”
“I mean it,” he insisted. Her gaze started pulling away, uncertainty flooding her veins, but he hooked a finger under her chin and forced her attention back to him. She refused to dwell on the small, surprised breath she sucked in at his action.
“Verbosity aside, I am not one to speak words I do not believe in,” Gale said. “We are all rough around the edges. I have heard my ego likened to that of a strutting peacock, for instance. Perhaps you are brusque and blunt or uncertain and awkward, but you breed a sense of safety wherever you reside, and people can feel your sincerity. After all, who else would manage to free every individual trapped in a cult’s high security prison, and then throw them a small party in celebration to ease their nerves?”
It was hardly fair to expect her to be unaffected by his words or the closeness they now shared. The snow started falling harder above them, and her eyes turned upwards to watch the path of a few flakes as they descended from the sky and landed in the soft brown locks of his hair or the velvety purple fabric covering his shoulders and arms. When she returned her attention to him, he was still gazing down at her with a blazing sincerity that made her chest constrict and stole the breath from her lungs.
Gale’s visage staring down at her now, under the light and snow of the magic she orchestrated in the Weave for him, was an image she would carry with her for the rest of her long life.
“At the very least, I know that there is no one else in my life who would witness me struggling as I have been and decide—correctly, I might add—that I needed to have some fun with magic, and that means something. It has to mean something, it is worth so…so very much,” he whispered.
Her eyes fell shut and she bit the edge of her bottom lip. It did mean something.
“I have understood for a while now how you earned your title,” he continued, and she opened her eyes back up to watch him. “You are well-versed in the Art and undeniably talented, but over time I have realized it is so much more. Beyond power and intelligence—both you have in abundance, mind—being an Archmage is about capability and safety, strength and kindness…”
He sighed and shook his head, almost in disbelief at her. “You have earned the title twice over by those standards since I have met you alone, just as you have earned the admiration and love and camaraderie of the people around you. You…you are the promise of a better tomorrow, Nox’ani,” he said quietly, “You are the brightness of a better future, and I am a better man simply by knowing you.”
“Gale…”
She faltered in the face of such praise. What was there that she could possibly say to that? Under normal circumstances, she would mutter her gratitude, an apology, and then walk away, but this was not normal circumstance. This was Gale, and such an admittance coming from him required eloquence in response, something she lacked on a good day, let alone when he stunned her into silence.
“Gale, I…”
Nox struggled again, trailing off with a sigh. After taking a moment to regain some grip on her composure, she blew out a long breath and nodded. The only appropriate way to respond was as she had done before, with vulnerability. The best option was by speaking what she felt in her heart. “If that is all the requirements for the title, then perhaps that is why I am so willing to grant it to you, as well.”
Surprise sparked to life in his dark eyes, only to be snuffed out by a profound sadness. “I am afraid I lost all rights to that title over a year ago. Not…entirely unjustly, at that.”
“We all make mistakes—a part of a wizard’s charm, really,” she joked with a tight smile. “You are twice the man now you ever were then, I can tell. There is no reason you cannot work towards rectifying your mistake and reclaiming the title,” she said, her smile growing more sincere. “And if that is the case, then all I ask is that you allow me the honor to be the first to call you Archmage once more.”
With glassy eyes, Gale smiled down at her, and traced his thumb just under her bottom lip. “Coming from you, that carries a lot of weight,” he whispered. “It carries a grand amount of meaning, and a grand amount of hope. It…” He paused, grief briefly flickering across his eyes. “It would be nice to live up to your expectations, one day.”
“No more than it would be for me to live up to yours,” she breathed. “But you will, I believe,” Nox added, “And maybe through that, so will I.”
A small hum rumbled in his throat in agreement. He said nothing further though, his eyes instead flickering downwards, mapping a delicate path over her nose and cheeks before settling on her mouth. She waited for several seconds, not moving, not breathing as his hooded gaze rested on her lips, until his thumb moved up to trace over the curve of her bottom lip.
“Gale…?” she asked on a shuddering breath.
His eyes snapped back to hers, and she could’ve easily gotten lost in the dark, heated depths. “Nox…” he mumbled, leaning closer to her. He tilted her head up a little further and his eyes fell back down to her parted lips. “May I…”
Before either could move any further, a violet light flared between them that had them both peeling back from one another. Nox watched, flabbergasted, as the Orb flared to life in his chest, seemingly in response to one of the globes from her Dancing Lights floating too closely to them. She looked up to Gale in question, but he appeared just as shocked and harried as she felt, his frantic hands smoothing over his chest as he stared down at the Orb.
“I guess it still likes my magic,” Nox remarked, the logical part of her brain apparently ahead of the rest of her.
It made sense, Dancing Lights was the spell she fed directly to the Orb when they were bereft of all other options. Despite being calmed, the Orb still responded to magic it recognized—that was the only explanation for what just happened, and she supposed it was lucky that it only responded to the one spell she gave it directly and not all of her magic in general.
But it just had to happen now. Though, perhaps that was for the best. As her eyes locked with his, she understood the Orb was serving as a grim reminder for the realization that just tore through her with its flash.
You are in love with a dead man, Nox.
In love. For the first time, she was in love. That was the only explanation for the rush of emotion that surged through her veins once she realized they weren’t in imminent danger. The disappointment at the moment lost, the fear—not for her life, but for losing the man in front of her, and all the grief that carried, the loss itself, and the desire to go back. The overwhelming urge to hold him in her arms again, to assure him this was alright, that everything would be alright and they could—they would get through it. Gods, if nothing else, there was nothing more she wanted than to feel the hand he was using to readjust his robes back under her chin again, guiding her back to him.
She was in love, for the first time. That should have been terrifying enough on its own—and it was—but of course there had to be more. Of course it had to be with Gale. Of course, it had to be with a man slipping through her fingers as easily as the Weave did when she cast a spell, as easily as the water of the Chionthar on a hot, sunny day. A man so brilliant and breathtakingly bright who was divinely charged to burst and fade away, to dim until there was nothing left of him at all.
She was in love with a dead man walking. A man she desperately, desperately wanted to save.
“Apologies,” Gale said, a panic-tinged, embarrassed chuckle escaping him and ripping her from her thoughts. His other hand rested over his chest, covering the offending light as it slowly dimmed back into dormancy. “Leave it to me to ruin the fun, eh?”
“No!” she was quick to dispute. “No, not at all, Gale, I…”
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Before she knew what she was doing, Nox glided forward and rested her hand over his. She almost regretted it when she looked up and could see a reflection of her fear in his gaze. Reticence and awkwardness thinly masked the terror sparking behind his eyes. Fear at the sudden realization they had gotten close, closer than perhaps either one of them intended. Fear at the realization of what exactly this was buzzing between them, fear that it was much more than either of them believed, and how all of it should have been wonderful. But when mixed with the sudden, blazing reminder of what they couldn’t…what they shouldn’t have, how wonderful a thing it was blossoming between them was cast into shadow.
It was…it was why she never considered it before now, not consciously anyways. Some, subconscious part of her had kept this fact hidden from her. Now though…well, there was no way of unknowing it now. She loved him. She still couldn’t speak the words, but she loved him. Yet, judging by the way he was staring down at her, wide-eyed and silent, he didn’t want to hear those words any more than she wanted to say them.
Fear choked them both. Fear left her love gasping before it could even breathe.
“I…had a lovely time,” Nox said softly. As quickly as she went to him, she reluctantly pulled away. “I only hope you can say the same.”
“I can…I did,” he nodded. “It was wonderful, Nox.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” she smiled, hoping it appeared genuine. She meant her words, but the act of smiling now left her stomach feeling ill. “I suppose we should end it here, then, lest the Orb decide to go back to its old ways.”
He took the cue and followed after her as she turned around and led him back to the bank of the river. Once assured he was on solid ground again, she gave him another half-hearted smile before trudging over to her staff. She only dared to look back once she reached Mourning Frost; with one hand on her staff, only then did she finally feel steady enough to glance back.
Gale still stood on the edge of the riverbank, having not moved an inch. He was watching her closely, dark eyes unreadable despite the dim light illuminating him. Her cantrips still hung around the area, casting everything in a rather romantic light and making the snow sparkle. The scene she had so carefully crafted, so lovingly put every ounce of her heart into in order to offer a few hours of peace, now left a bitter taste in her mouth. And Gale…and Gale.
The snow still fell around him, blowing slightly on the breeze blowing between them. In the center of the snowstorm, he was the stillness she was looking for, she understood that now. He was the peace. It was a sight, an indescribably powerful feeling she desperately needed to imprint onto her deepest memories. If she could have nothing else, she never wanted to lose the image of the man that stood before her now.
She never wanted to lose the man either, but that…that was not for her to decide, no matter how much she raged against that fact. All she could do…all she could control was how she remembered this moment.
She wanted it to be good. She knew it would only ever be bittersweet.
Nox always knew a little moment of serenity was never going to last forever. It never did. It was just a shame it was ending like this. There was nothing more she wanted to do than run back to him, to wrap him in her arms and kiss him like they were about to, and then never let him go. But no matter how much she desired it, she couldn’t urge her legs forward. She wouldn’t…she couldn’t do that, for the exact same reason she knew he stood several paces behind her, watching her silently and nothing more.
She loved him. There was nothing either of them could do about that.
Her hand gripped tighter around her staff, knuckles white with the effort, until she plucked it from the ground and settled it on her back. The lights began fading, and the snow slowly stopped its descent. She waved a hand and the Weave relaxed between her fingers, while a part of her mind finally sighed in relief over the concentration no longer being necessary. The magic was gone, and the sorrow that always accompanied her at the end of a time like this clung extra tightly to her heart now.
“I suppose we should all take our rest, now,” Nox muttered and turned away, uncertain if he even heard her. “Good night, Gale.”
“Good night,” Gale responded just as quietly. “And thank you for tonight, Nox’ani.”
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leadrains · 2 years
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boy division, my chemical romance // dead, my chemical romance // i never told you what i do for a living, my chemical romance // to the end, my chemical romance // our lady of sorrows, my chemical romance // it's not a fashion statement, it's a fucking deathwish, my chemical romance
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lioa7 · 6 months
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Oh Requests? Mm Okay Remember when you drew Ink and their Hyper-realistic version of Dream's brother? Maybe a part two to that? Where ink had to find some way to get rid of it- and maybe it somehow ended up with nightmare XD That would be hilarious to see his and/or his gang's reaction
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IM SOOO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!!
It was.... a very long comic...
Uhhh hope this is enough to repay my lateness?
Hope you enjoy!
I also don't know how to uhhh post long comics so let me know if its a little weird... I'll try to fix it!
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not a request, I’m just fixating on Tywin Lannister <3 the timeline of this rather ignores canon, but as it is, Tywin is about 15 years older than !reader, Jaime and Cersei are about 8 years younger than !reader. Joanna died giving birth to the twins, so no Tyrion (sorry!), and there’s no Robert’s Rebellion, so no War of the Five Kings either. There’s allusion to a battle in the Capitol when Jaime and Cersei are toddlers, and i pretended this was to overthrow aerys in my head, though I gave zero details about it. Anyway, enjoy!
Edit: it’s nearly 6k words whoops
A Fool’s Errand
Tywin Lannister x fem!Reader
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Loving Tywin Lannister was a fool’s errand, or so everyone said. But you, the sweet young daughter of the Warrior Lord Dumain, had never shied from a challenge yet. Not in our blood, your father would say. Warriors fight for what is right, and for what they want, my girl. And you wanted the Old Lion himself.
It had begun quite accidentally, and not even because of Lord Lannister, but his wife. She had hosted a tourney you’d gone to as a girl, and you thought her the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen (the portrait of your long dead mother non-withstanding). She had glided around the Rock, where the tourney was held, and her golden hair and dress had caught the eye of everyone, naturally.
The first day you’d followed her around, a girl of no more than eight having an easy time staying hidden in order to sate your curiosity. On the third day, Lady Joanna had spoken.
“Come out from there, my little shadow,” she hummed from her bench in the gardens. Shyly, you stepped out from behind an enormous pot and looked at your feet. Your father told you not to get in the way of anyone and to listen to your septa (who you’d managed to slip away from every day since your arrival). Your worry must’ve been evident, for she reached out a graceful hand and beckoned you closer. She must’ve tired easily from her round belly, which was too large to hold just one babe, you’d overheard your septa mention.
“You must be Lord Renhaal’s little girl,” her sweet voice said, pulling you from your childish musing.
“Yes, my lady,” you replied softly. She smiled, and you understood how people loved her instantly. You felt you’d do anything to keep her smiling at you.
“And what wonderful manners, forgetting all the spying, of course.” Though her words were chastisement, her face belied no displeasure.
“I wasn’t spying, my lady,” you defended, desperate to clear up the misunderstanding. “Father said, before we came here, that Lord Lannister was a serious man, and not to get in his way out of everyone here. And you’re so nice! I was only curious about what sort of lady would make a serious man happy… my lady.”
Drawing you closer so you were sat next to her on the bench, Lady Joanna began to impart knowledge you would never forget.
“My mother used to tell me that even the most stoic of men need a lady to love them. Because, little shadow, good women make good men better, and that makes a good man’s wife the best sort of woman. And I have always wanted to be the best I can.”
You nodded, understanding that love was important to men and women both, if what Lady Joanna was saying was true. Loving a man like Tywin Lannister was made to seem easy with this knowledge. And perhaps, that is where you’d gotten the lesson wrong.
“You will love a serious man one day, little lady.” The knowing glimmer in green eyes was lost on you.
“My little warrior,” your father started. Stood at the docks, twenty and one summers old, an accomplished archer and peerless sailor, you will always be your father’s little girl. “Do not be rash out there. I know you are excited and adventure is in our bones, but you surely cannot fault a father for worrying over his daughter.”
Smiling and stepping closer to him, his large body older but no less impressive, you reassure him that you were raised by the most battle-experienced man in the realm, and the most successful to boot. You would be fine, you told him, and he trusted your words enough to let you board your ship, one he’d had made just for you for your nameday two years earlier.
The Shadow Maiden was a fine ship made of Essosi ashwood, a dark, grey-stained wood with sails green as your family’s house colours, and a hooded maiden figurehead dark as the rest of the ship with golden accents in the dagger and map held in her hands. It was small, which meant fast, but solid from the heavier wood that comprised the ship. For where you were going, you’d be thankful for these qualities.
“There is no need to worry, father. I do not mean to break our streak of victories, and so I will not. I will return with what I seek, I assure you.”
“And you still won’t tell me what it is you endeavour to find?” You shake your head, eyes turning down lest he read your thoughts. “It hasn’t got anything to do with Lord Lannister, does it? I cannot force him to accept a marriage contract, even for all the treasure in the world, and neither can you, my dear.”
It was a sore topic of conversation, the two rejected marriage proposals that had been sent at your behest to Lord Lannister, one by raven and one by you in person. His wife had been gone for nearly a decade and a half, and somehow, in your limited interactions with the Old Lion, the late Lady Joanna’s words made more and more sense. You could see plain as day his desire to have his wife back, and though you ached to be able to give him this, the next best thing was you, yourself. A woman who understood and was understood by his late wife.
Shaking your thoughts away, you accept your father’s kiss upon your cheek and his tight embrace before embarking your ship, beginning the month long trip to Essos.
“My Lady,” you heard behind you. Turning to see Lord Kevan Lannister, you dipped into a perfect curtsy, and greeted him demurely. At twenty summers old, you were considered the fairest and most eligible of Westerosi nobility. Everyone could see this but Lord Lannister, whom you had come to convince a betrothal to. Lord Kevan was a gentleman, and a doting father and husband to his young son and pregnant wife.
“My Lord. What may I do for you?”
He frowned, the furrowing of brows a far cry from his usually pleasant expression.
“My Lady, I fear you will not be received well in your request. I only wish to impart some insight into my Lord brother, whom I know well, of course. He is not a kindly man, and nothing and no one could sway him once he’s made a decision. I only say this to warn you, but knowing your father, you are likely as determined as he in all things.”
Heart dropping but smile staying firm, you considered his words carefully before speaking.
“I am determined, yes, but mostly, your brother is the only man, save my father, who will do what needs to be done to carry on a legacy. Your brother has only one son, and I hear he is rather keen on the Knight’s Guild… And I confess, I do not wish him to be—“ lonely, was the word you would have used about anyone else, but to imply that would certainly offend, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. “—well, someone told me that even the most stoic of men need a lady, and I’m rather set on him. If he rejects me, I will graciously excuse myself and not bother him again. But I must try, or I’ll never forgive myself.”
Your skirts whispered as you slowly paced in the parlour you’d settled in. The gold was a bit much, you thought privately, but the large window overlooking the Sunset Sea was worth the ostentatiousness.
Lord Kevan looked at you for a long moment, as though he’d heard the words before himself, before nodding and offering his arm to escort you to Lord Lannister’s solar.
It had gone worse than you’d imagined, and you’d imagined the worst case scenario. The truth was, Tywin Lannister was not just serious. He was borderline cruel, sly as a fox and intimidating as his house’s sigil. He’d all but snarled at you when you finished your proposal.
“You wasted my time for that? I have already rejected your offer—twice now. I have better things to be doing,” he said, standing above you where you sat opposite him. “There is nothing marriageable to me about a slip of a woman who fancies herself a lady and an adventurer, a mere girl inexperienced in life and cavorting as though she is touched by the Maiden herself. Hear me now, girl,” he growled, green eyes spitting like wildfire, “even if you marched in here with Brightroar in your arms, I would not marry you.”
And of course, the sweet image of him even reluctantly agreeing and you supporting his lordship over his subjects for the rest of your days faded away like a dying sun. Face placid, hands steady and voice clear, you simply said, “that sounds like a challenge.” He didn’t have time to berate you for your insolence, for you were already out the door and making your way to your wheelhouse, insisting on leaving that instant.
The people of the Rock would no doubt think you a cowardess who tucked tail and ran in the face of the Lion’s roar. But they did not know you, did not know the sparkle in your eye was not tears, but determination.
Docking in Essos was made simpler by the permits your father had arranged for you, even if the dock master insisted you pay extra. Your men, men you’d known since they were capable of getting seasick still, had made promises to ensure your safety, but even twelve broad sailors were not enough to sway a man’s greed. It mattered little in the end, you would restock water and food as much as possible before circumnavigating the coast of Essos. Another sennight of sailing the coast, then a moon navigating open waters and finally, you’d made it to the ruins of Valyria.
The once great castle by the cliffside had mostly fallen into the sea, and the jagged protrusions of stone were less than ideal for a galleon, but your little ship was nimbler and sleeker than any hulking vessels that thought to shortcut through these waters.
“My Lady, we’re nearing the Ruins. Shall we anchor and rest through the night?” You agreed that was best, and though the anticipation thrummed through you all night, you were rested enough by dawn to begin what you’d spent over two months sailing for.
For two days you’d steered your ship through previously untraversable waters, before coming across what seemed yet another shipwreck. At first, it looked like every other one you’d passed: broken, rotted and empty. You’d nearly sailed right by it when you caught sight of a lioness figurehead.
In the history book that had found its way across Westeros to you (anonymously, though you suspected Lord Kevan would be the only one to have possession of such a tome) it said King Tommen of the Rock, First of His Name, had sailed the Vibrant Lionness named for his wife who had hair red as the setting sun. And here it was, you thought, anchoring and row-boating to the half-submerged wreckage. By the light of the midday sun, and your own willingness to get dirty (thank goodness you were among good men who wouldn’t think twice of you wearing breeches for the duration of the journey) you had begun searching for your boon.
And in what would’ve been the captain’s quarters, next to a curled up skeleton in rags, was a scabbard holding a sword. You held your breath, stepping cautiously to avoid the most rotten planks of wood on the uneven floor, before grabbing the sheath, and revealing Brightroar. The smile you wore as you rowed back to the Shadow Maiden was nothing short of radiant. Welcomed with a great cheer, you promised your men that weather and gods willing, you’d be home in six short weeks.
It was closer to being seven weeks, but finally being docked at the port by your father’s Keep, you were able to breathe. You’d done it. You’d retrieved what all of Westeros knew Tywin Lannister desired most. And though your heart panged, the desire to be his wife hardly diminishing even after being eviscerated by him, your pride won out. If anything, Lord Lannister would owe you a debt, even if you’d never collect on it.
“My girl!” your father roared as you disembarked the ship, arms wrapping around you and swinging you in a wide arc. It was nearing your nameday again, and he worried you wouldn’t be home in time to celebrate. “And dare I ask if you found what you were looking for?”
You smiled beatifically, and it was answer enough for you lord father. He insisted you stay for your nameday, which was a week after your return, and would go for a week at least. Being his only daughter, and one of only two surviving children of his, there would never be a year he didn’t revel in having you with him still.
During this fortnight, you’d learned that Jaime Lannister had in fact been selected by the Knight’s Guild as the youngest member in history, and would therefore not inherit his family’s seat. Jaime had been a sweet boy, and you’d doted on him on the many occasions you’d seen him in his childhood. Cersei, while a little cold at first, had followed her brother’s adoration of you after a time. You were happy to know Jaime was doing what he loved most, even if you felt a twinge of guilt at how it proved you right to the Old Lion after all.
Having made the arrangements with Lord Kevan (Lord Lannister would not even respond to any ravens from you, he’d mentioned in a letter once) to visit the Rock under the guise of the twins’ name day celebration, you set off once again to the far Westerlands.
Your skin had gotten some shades darker from the expedition to Valyria, and your hair had lightened at the ends slightly. You’d grown more lean, but stronger, your muscles toned as opposed to bulky, like your older brother’s. In short, you were more formidable in appearance than the last time you’d been to the Rock. Your dress, the same deep green as your family’s colour, flattered your waist and hips, the neckline revealing only the top of your collarbones and a small sliver of your shoulder with long, wide sleeves that fluttered around you as you walked up the steps and into the maw of the lion.
Most of Westeros had heard of your expedition and many at the Rock who’d travelled far and wide were certain you’d present Jaime and Cersei with a priceless gift. It was priceless, you thought, but not quite for the twins. For Jaime, you’d actually gotten a fine stallion, one bred by your father and brother personally some years ago, and for Cersei, a necklace of diamonds cut to appear as shards of sparking glass inlaid in Valyrian steel. You knew Cersei was jealous over the Valyrian steel dagger her brother had gotten some namedays ago, and thought this may be enough to settle that dissatisfaction she still carried.
Three days of celebration gave way to the dawn of the twins’ actual nameday, which would be the day you presented Jaime and Cersei their gifts, and a final gift for the House of Lannister as a whole.
A fine spread was laid out for everyone to break their fast, and per tradition (which began when the twins were much younger and far too impatient to wait until dinner to open gifts) presents were prepared to be opened during the feast. The gardens where the meal was held were expansive and bittersweet to sit in. They reminded you of the Golden Lady, who despite being noble of birth, had tended her own garden herself. Lord Lannister now paid a slew of gardeners to preserve it exactly as it had been left by its keeper.
“We saved yours for last,” Jaime whispered beside you with a mischievous grin. You had not sat far from the Lannister family, mostly due to the Lord’s children’s fondness of you, to his chagrin. He hadn’t looked at you once, pointedly ignoring your entire side of the table, even with the guests he didn’t despise surrounding you on either side.
“Yours are always the best ones,” Cersei added with a secret grin. You laughed at that, and called your men to escort the war horse for Jaime into the gardens. A hush fell over the table as the great Arabian horse, golden of coat, trotted to you at your whistle. He was enormous, as horses bred by your family were known to be, but this horse looked large next to large horses.
“Every great knight needs a steed attuned to him, one that will fight as much for him as with him. He will never listen to another, never let himself be mounted by another. Only you, my lord,” you explain to Jaime as he marvels at the hulking beast.
“I’m honoured, my lady, to receive such a prestigious gift… I shall never fear battle with a mount like this.”
“And with your lion’s heart,” you added fondly, watching as Jaime, as near to manhood a boy can be, gently stroked the horse’s nose before letting it be led to the stables. You felt a heavy gaze on you then, but refused to look at the exact pair of green eyes that had settled on you. “And for the young lionness,” you announce, revealing the fine necklace, “jewellery and dresses are a lady’s armour, and there is no finer necklace than this in all the lands. Made of Valyrian steel, with shards of diamond, it will cut through anything should you use it right. It may save your life one day, my lady, though I shall pray that you never find need of it for that.”
Cersei’s eyes widened slightly, and she hesitated for nary a second before lifting her elaborate braid from her neck and turning for you to fasten it. With her dress of pale gold (so like the image of her mother now that she’d grown) the necklace looked like it was made with the dress in mind.
“Your gifts, as usual, delight my children,” a low voice intoned from the head of the table, the gardens, still silent enough for it, seemed to echo his voice. And once again, you are reminded of what a powerful man he is. Though you are not the lady he desires help from, you delight in his attention nonetheless.
“I have one more gift, if it pleases you, my Lord? I travelled very far to acquire this treasure, and there is no one in Westeros but you who could accept it.” A murmur slithered through the guests, and many eyes were now glued to you in interest, surely anticipating the revelation for the reason of your expedition on the sea they’d all heard about.
“You are most generous,” he said tonelessly, pure disinterest coating each syllable. You nodded gracefully, and with the lessons in ladyhood that had been drilled into you, you curtsied and glided to Ser Romnack, who held a slender, rectangular box engraved with lions with rubies for eyes and golden fangs. Walking back to where Lord Lannister sat upon a dais at a grand table perpendicular to the others, you presented him with the fine box, not looking at him but at the table.
He took it, and with little fanfare, flicked the latch of the box and swung the lid open. His brow furrowed, you noticed from your periphery, but it melted away as fast as it manifested. Instead, Lord Tywin Lannister wore a look of true surprise, his lips parted and eyes fixed on the contents of the box. He stands, looking deeply at you, though you do not look at him. From the box, he revealed Brightroar, the ancestral sword lost to the Lannisters for nearly three centuries. And now it was home, thanks to you.
The crowd’s reaction was far more animated, and almost at once people were clapping and cheering for you, to your embarrassment. You demurely wave away the cheers, accept the grateful embrace from Cersei and the gentlemanly way Jaime held your hand for a few long moments, then returned to your seat to finish the rest of the feast. Shortly after, festivities began again, and it was easy to slip away from the crowd, even if everyone seemed to be seeking you out.
You’d been to the Rock many times before, so finding your way to the parlour you favoured in your visits was possibly as easy with your eyes closed. The parlour with the wide window that overlooked the sea, that was rarely frequented, or so Lord Kevan had mentioned. You settled into a plush settee and began to mentally plan out your return home.
You had promised your father that once you returned from the Rock, you’d marry a lord or heir of his choosing, since he had given you two attempts of your own and you’d used them both on the Lord of the Keep you were in. Perhaps you could admit to a preference for blonds, though your father hardly seemed the type to care about a superficial detail like that.
“I have not known you to shy away from a celebration, especially if my children are involved.”
You hummed, not moving to stand or curtsy, fatigued and uncaring of the consequences therein. “Ah, but you do not know me, my Lord.”
“No,” he agreed, stood by the other side of the settee. “I know little about you, especially if I am to believe you retrieved Brightroar yourself.”
“I had twelve men with me. Men who I trust and who trust me with their lives. It rather makes impossible expeditions that much easier. Trusting them, that is.”
He was silent for a moment, then he spoke once more.
“I told you I would not marry you, even if you had Brightroar in your arms.”
Turning to glare at him, you stood. “I did not travel for four months across seas to find a way to marry you, Lord Lannister,” you said firmly. “Jaime will be the finest knight Westeros has seen in centuries, and he deserves to fight with his family’s sword, as my brother does, as my father and all his fathers before him did.”
He glared fiercely at you, wildfire eyes attempting to burn you with their scorching anger. You returned the glare with an ice cold one of your own, one you’d steadily become known for.
“I suppose you expect this Lannister to pay you the debt you are owed,” he said as though bored. Your glare broke, expression turning neutral.
“I want nothing from you that you are unwilling to give, Lord Lannister. And I’m a woman with enough dignity to bestow my companionship with a man who might appreciate it someday. So, no. I do not expect any repayment. Good day, my Lord.”
The door had barely opened before a large hand flew passed your shoulder to slam it shut.
“Do not walk away from me, girl.”
“I am no girl. I have sailed across the Sunset Sea, traversed the Ruins of Valyria and lived to tell the tale. And beside that, I have honoured the name Lannister by bringing back your greatest desire. I am no more a girl than you are a coward.”
And with that, you’d wrenched the door open and walked speedily to your apartments where your handmaidens awaited you. You told them to arrange for an early departure, and they began packing immediately, sensing your irritation.
It was early evening, and nearing the time of your departure when Jaime and Cersei made to visit. Cersei was, in private, far more emotional than she ever let on in public, and her anger and sadness at you leaving was plain to you. You’d seen her as a little sister when you were younger, but now you wondered if she’d viewed as more of an aunt, or a godsmother. Either way, your long embrace and promises to write were just enough to pacify her. Jaime was more stoic, you’d noticed, trying to be strong for his sister but also leaning into his impression of how a good man acts. It had made you smile, and a little teary, to see them so grown. You’d known them since they were babes, of course, and had even visited frequently for long intervals when they were barely walking while your father fought and won battles in the Capitol with Lord Lannister.
“Don’t fret, my little lions,” you said, holding Cersei again and cupping Jaime’s cheek in your spare palm. “There is nowhere in the world I would not travel to see you both. Even if my future husband forbids me.”
“Husband!?” Cersei shrieked, and strange panic in her eyes as she shared a look with Jaime.
“But I thought you were going to speak to father about a betrothal?” she asked.
“I have made two proposals to your Lord Father, and both were rejected, my darling.”
“But you brought Brightroar home,” Cersei argued. “He’ll marry you now if you ask him! He owes you a debt, and Lannisters—“
“—always pay their debts, I know, Cersei,” you sigh tiredly. “I do not want any man to marry me because he feels indebted to me.”
“But you’ve been dedicated to father forever!”
None of you noticed another visitor silently enter, too closely embraced and focussed on each other to pay attention.
“I will find another man to dedicate myself to, and I will bear him sons as is my duty. I could no sooner force your father’s hand than I could bring harm to either of you. That is what love makes of us at times…” you trailed off.
“What’s that, my Lady?” Jaime asked.
“Fools, darling. And I have been a fool twice already for him. I will not disgrace myself or my family by asking a third time.”
“No,” the Old Lion said from behind you all, causing the three of you to turn and face him. “You will not. Children, leave us.”
Cersei’s grip around your waist tightened in impertinence. “Are you going to upset her? She was upset when we got here,” she says boldly to her father. He glared at his daughter, and a battle of wills that had no clear winner began and ended in a few seconds.
“Off you go, little lions. I will be fine,” you said, shooing them gently, even if Cersei looked unconvinced. With a final glare to her father and a tug from her twin, the young lions were gone, the door closed, you and Lord Lannister alone once again.
“What did they speak of,” he asked bluntly.
“Which part, my Lord,” you ask as you gathered a ring from your bedside that you’d taken off that morning and forgotten to put back on. An emerald ring, once belonging to your mother, that rarely left your hand.
“You are not scheduled to depart for another three days hence.”
“A change in circumstances, I’m afraid,” you answer.
“And what changes are those,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
“It is past time I marry, my Lord. My Lord Father has allowed me my adventures, but I grow wearier every day of the spinster I am sure people think me to become.”
“The opinions of sheep matter not to lions,” he said, as though that explained everything.
“I am not a lion, my Lord.”
“Not yet,” he agreed.
You turned then, and looked at him. He had Brightroar fastened to his hip, and in the finery he wore for the celebrations, he made a striking image. Shoulders broad and chest puffed with the confidence of a Lord reunited with his family’s blade, you’d thought he never looked more handsome, though you knew better than to let the opinion show.
“I won’t marry one of your brothers, or a son of a vassal house. I am a lady of highest birth, and will find myself a husband fitting my status, my Lord,” you explained evenly, looking away to gather your shawl, the last of your personal effects in the room. You made to the door at that, and once again, Lord Lannister prevented you from leaving.
“That is twice you have walked away from me. The debt is repaid,” he purred beside your left ear. Goosebumps raised at his vicinity, and many questions at his comment. “Twice I have rejected you, and twice you have walked away from me. I have killed men for less. That debt is repaid.”
Thinking the interaction some sort of taunt, which he was not above in the slightest, you disregarded him and attempted to open the door with force. This time, however, he did lot let you walk out. He simply slammed the door again.
“Thrice, my Lady,” he said lowly. “And now you owe me a debt.”
A warrior’s daughter you may be, but even your heart could not protect itself from the cracks beginning to show. How foolish could you have been? It was a fool’s errand to love a man like Tywin Lannister, and gods, had you been a fool. You should never have followed the Lady Joanna around her own home. You’d known better even then, and you should not have sat with her, or listened to her, or decided to be a great lady like her. Why couldn’t you have just sat quietly at that tourney with your septa as you’d been told to? And you had risked your life and the lives of men you’d known all your life to give this man the only treasure he could not buy. All you’ve done, and only to owe him, as he said.
“Remove your hand, my Lord. I am leaving.”
“No. You owe me a debt and I intend to collect.”
“Then I suggest, my Lord,” you said cuttingly, “you allow me to return to my father so he can settle this perceived debt. Send him a raven with the sum of gold you don’t truly need, and let us be done here.”
He did not budge, and you felt the horrifying sting of frustrated tears burn your eyes.
“I’m afraid there is only one thing that could settle this debt. Your hand.”
Rage filled you.
“Then have the left,” you muttered angrily, turning and holding out your wrist. “Give your blade the blood of the hand that brought it back to you. That’s poetic, even for you.”
You expected to see that dark resolve you saw in your father’s eyes when he would sentence a man to death. That grim satisfaction and humanitarian dread combined. But his eyes were not angry, no wildfire spitting and flaring in his gaze. In fact, they rather resembled the rolling hills of lush green pastures and forests that surround the Rock. And for once, you noticed, his mouth was not held in a grim line, nor was his face set in stony dissatisfaction as it so often was. He looked softer, face relaxed and… almost open.
“I do not mean it quite so literally,” he said, bringing the hand by his side to gently hold the wrist you’d bared to him. It was the first time he had touched you, you realised.
And then his words untangled in your head and made a little more sense. Only, he could not mean to ask for your hand after rejecting it twice, could he?
“My late wife,” he began solemnly, “would say that a woman’s dedication is rarer than dragon eggs and infinitely more precious as well. She rejected my proposal to her twice, and on the third she agreed, because, she said, any man willing to make a fool of himself for her hand was a man she could be dedicated to.”
“I… I do not understand, my Lord,” you uttered quietly.
“I expected you to ask a third time, my lady. Expected you would return in a matter of weeks and insist on a betrothal. And I would have accepted then. But you did not,” he explained, voice low, meant to soothe rather than intimidate. “I was furious when I heard you’d left Westeros. I thought it was to sail east to find a husband, and had a mind to send a fleet after you. My brother insisted you’d return, and I trusted him. He was right.”
Mind working, you could only dumbly stare at him as he told a tale of how his twins had begged him to propose a betrothal to you when you’d been eight and ten, and how he knew you were not ready to be a wife, the call for adventure itching under your skin needed to be sated first. How he had rejected the first proposal easily, but the second one was much more difficult.
“I expected you to doggedly pursue your goals to be wedded to me as your father might’ve pursued his in battle, but for as similar as you are to him, you are not the same at all. And then I thought you would surely perish on your expedition, especially as the moons passed without word of your return. And now, here you are at my children’s nameday celebrations, the finest mount in the realm for my son, the finest jewels in the realm for my daughter, and my own greatest desire, second to one.”
You blinked, looking at him suspiciously, as though his brothers and guests might pour out of some alcove and laugh at your folly to half believe him.
“And the debt I owe you, my Lord? How is that to be paid.”
“I answered this already, my Lady. Your hand.”
“My hand.” You repeated.
“Since it is unlikely you will propose a betrothal with me a third time, I must insist upon it myself. It is the only way I shall consider the slight of walking away from the Lion of Casterly Rock repaid.”
He looked down at you, watching quietly for a turn in your expression, anything really. You were still as marble, and your hand felt as cold as it too. Then he saw it, that faint glimmer of hope that he’d seen in your gaze on at least two occasions prior. It was there again, barely, and tentatively. But it was there, and it was all he needed.
He swooped down to press a gentle kiss upon your soft mouth, holding himself back from kissing you as he wanted to. It took a short second for your brain to shut off and for your body to move as it wanted. You leaned forward into the kiss, bring your hand to his chest, the other still held in his large hand, thumb gently stroking over the pulse that sped up under the delicate skin.
“You have not answered me, my Lady,” Lord Lannister said, pulling his mouth from yours to trail kisses across your cheek to your ear, nibbling gently on your lobe and halting any clever answer you might’ve been able to give.
“What?” you asked dazedly. Lord Lannister’s lips quirked at your ineloquent reply.
“Will you give me your hand?”
He pulled back to look you in the eyes, and now his lips were not touching you, you could think a little clearer.
“Only if you will give me yours.”
Predatory though it was, the Old Lion grinned at his victory.
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demigoddessqueens · 4 months
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For a multiple character request please : Star Wars Sequel Resistance group (Rey, Finn, Poe, and Rose if ok?) being sibling figures to reader, and them coming out as asexual/aromantic to them
Of course you can!!
HERE ON MASTERLIST 9
Rey
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Her eyes just light up like a star, and gives those encouraging pat-hugs along with a “I’m so proud of you!”
Finn
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He sees you’re fidgeting about what to say and gives you an encouraging hug once you tell him.
Poe
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Such a good brother! Makes a big deal about it as in he’s happy for you to come out to him
Rose
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She’s such a sweetheart about it! So patient and encouraging when you tell her, holding your hand if you want to as well
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hoedamn-eron · 3 months
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hi, first of all, love your fics!!
this is my first time ever making a request, so I'm sorta of nervous.
the idea is that Poe starts falling for reader, a good friend of his. But reader is wary because of his reputation as a womanizer — reader wants something long lasting and real.
I'd love to see how you would write this story.
oh, but happy ending, please! I need time to recover from baby, please.
sending you lots of love!!!
Hi Anon! 😊 I shall add this to my list and get it out as soon as possible!
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lacontroller1991 · 1 year
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Watchful Eyes (Poe Dameron x F!Reader)
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Main Master List || Star Wars Master List
Requested by @simpforbritgents​ : Can you do Poe and the prompt “Stop dancing like that or I’m going to cum right here.”?
Author’s Note: SOOOO I think this is the first time I wrote for Poe (someone correct me if I’m wrong) and I’ve only seen the sequels once so if my interpretation sucks, I am sorry about it!!! BUT GOD HES SO PRETTYYYYYYY
Warnings: 18+, drinking, sensual dancing, Poe is horny for reader, talk of male erection
Word Count: 564
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He knows that he shouldn’t be watching you. He knows that as your commanding officer any relationship should be strictly professional. But it doesn’t change the fact that as you dance on the table, he’s rock solid in his pants.
It’s not often when the rebels have a chance to relax and let loose, and when they do, they go hard. Drinks are passed around, music is blaring, lights off (save for the disco ball that shines in many colors) and people chatting. When he wasn’t a general, he would’ve been partying like there was no tomorrow (which was often the case), but now he sulks in the back corner, glass of bourbon in his hand as his eyes narrow on your form, not going unnoticed by Finn who smirks to himself.
“You should probably go for her. She’s not seeing anyone you know.” Finn comments, taking a sip of his Ardees, causing Poe to look at Finn in question. “What? It’s very obvious you like her.” He walks away, leaving Poe by himself - brown eyes flicking back to your form only to see you pretend to go down on another person. Slamming his drink down, he stalks over to where you are, people moving out of the general’s way before he grabs your bicep, causing you to jump as he leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“Stop dancing like that or I’m going to cum right here.” The words have the blood rushing under your cheeks and you’re thankful that it’s dark in the room.
“What?”
“Come on.” He expertly guides you out of the room, not really caring about the pairs of eyes on him or you as he leads you down the numerous halls. Taking a quick look down, your eyes bulge at the sight of his erection, creating a tent in his pants as everything becomes clear. He wants you.
Wasting no time, Poe gently shoves you into his room, stripping down from his clothes while you watch in curiosity. Sure, you’ve had a crush on him for years but he’s your commanding officer. Any kind of fraternization would be frowned upon. “Poe?”
Poe stops what he’s doing as he looks you over, still dressed in your clothes, confusion on your face. His face drops as realization crosses his mind. “You don’t want me, do you?”
You lightly chuckle, moving over to him and taking his cheeks in your hands. “I do, it’s just I don’t want to be a one night stand. If you want me, maybe we can try a date first? Take it slow?” Poe smirks, standing to his full height and looking down at you, caressing your cheek while you lean into his touch.
“Is this your way of asking me out?”
“Yes, I suppose it is. What do you think?”
“I think I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7.” You nod with a smile before making your way to the door before his arm shoots out and grabs onto you, causing you to look at him. “Can you still stay the night though?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” You strip yourself of your clothes while he turns off the lights, dragging you to the bed and wrapping his arms around you while you cuddle into his side, the both of you falling asleep relatively quickly, excited for the next day together.
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Author’s Note 2.0 - I hope you enjoyed!!!!
General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid​ @himbovillain-anon​ @babblydrabbly​ @a-reader-and-a-writer​ @fairchildflag​ @infatuatedjanes @tavners​
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