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corroded-hellfire · 2 months

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Fic request idea baby: what about Eddie with a gf who used to have an ED but she's doing better now but he notices that she's starting to relapse like skipping meals and he brings it up to her and just angst to fluff

+ Hey if ur taking requests:

what about if Effie's gf randomly stops changing in front of him like she's getting into pj and she goes to the bathroom and then starts asking for the lights to be off during sex and he's super confused and asks her about it and basically angst bc she's trying to hide it but may be she had a slip during ED recovery?

+ Hi lovie a lil request! What about Eddie with a gf whose in eating disorder recovery like she used to struggle but it's been a few years since then and she's don't just fine but he notices she's starting to relapse?

These three requests seemed to overlap just perfectly. The beautiful and talented @munson-blurbs was kind enough to write these with me so go shower her with all the love 💚

Warnings: eating disorders, body image issues, relapse struggles. Please, if you want or need to talk to somebody, I'm always here.

Words: 1.5k

You’re fairly certain you’re living on the sun’s surface.

Logic would say that you haven’t left Hawkins, but the temperature outside begs to differ.

“Christ, it’s like 1,000 degrees in here,” Eddie mumbles, cracking open a cold can of Pepsi and taking a swig. He plants a kiss on your forehead, careful not to disturb your reading.

You smile but keep your nose buried in the bridal magazine Nancy had bought for you. Page after page of wedding dresses had you swimming in a sea of white, each more beautiful—and expensive—than the last.

Oh, well. At least it would give you an idea of what to look for at your bridal appointment in a few weeks.

What truly caught your eye was an article tucked towards the back of the magazine. Its title boldly declares, “Shedding for the Wedding: Lose that Weight and Look Great!”

You shouldn’t read it. It’ll only upset you, only bring back the bad thoughts and routines and restrictions that you’d fought so hard to overcome. And yet you’re drawn to it, eyes scanning each fad diet for one that might help you.

No. Yes. No. Yes. Put the magazine down. Stop reading the diet tips and comparing yourself to the models.

But they’re so pretty and so skinny. If Eddie saw them, he might not even want to marry you anymore. Not when he saw how beautiful women were supposed to look in wedding dresses.

Maybe losing a few pounds wouldn’t hurt. One diet couldn’t be so bad. It would be temporary, just until the wedding.

It was totally fine.

“What are we thinking for dinner tonight, babe?” Eddie rifles through the pantry and pulls out two boxes of pasta. “We have bowties and rigatoni. I’m personally more of a bowtie man myself, but it’s your call.”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Just gonna have some soup.” Reaching around him, you pluck a can of Progresso off of the shelf.

“Soup?” Eddie wrinkles his nose in confusion. “It’s hotter than Satan’s tits outside.”

You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “Period craving.”

“You’re not on your period.”

“Well, PMS.”

Something nags at you—if you have to hide your new soup diet from your husband-to-be, maybe it’s not a good idea. Maybe you should put the can away and make pasta instead. But then you remember those gorgeous models, so svelte and sculpted and perfect.

Soup it is.

It’s harder to ignore the problem as more symptoms of the illness start to return. The first time you’d gathered up your pajamas and taken them into the bathroom with you, Eddie just assumed you were going to take a shower. When you emerged with bone-dry hair not two minutes later, he was puzzled. But he didn’t say anything, not wanting to come across as overprotective or overbearing. Maybe there was some simple excuse and he didn’t want to make you feel like you have to answer to him about every little thing.

Eddie can’t ignore that there’s a problem anymore when you slip back into one of your old habits that has always broken his heart. Sex was now lights off and you kept your shirt on. Eddie wanted to see every part of you, touch every part of you. He was going to be your husband and the fact that you didn’t want him to see this part of you—that he has made very clear in the past that he fucking loves—disheartens him.

Stress begins to build up within Eddie. He feels like he’s toeing the line because he doesn’t want to sound accusatory, but he also knows something is going on with you. And he has a pretty good idea of what it is. You try to hide how you pinch at your stomach and thighs, but he sees. The way you measure your wrists with your fingers all throughout the day. He wonders if you even realize you’re doing it, or if it’s reflexive at this point.

Though you never mention it, you always have your green journal around the kitchen. Eddie respects your privacy enough not to go through it, but reaching for the keys over your shoulder one evening he notices that you’re making a list of what you’ve eaten that day. His stomach sinks as yet another familiar pattern emerges from the days when your disorder was at its worst. Your fiancé is coming closer to his breaking point and he still doesn’t know what to do or even who to go to about this.

The final straw though is when you turn down girls’ night with Nancy and Robin at the Cheesecake Factory. You lived for nights out with your two best friends. They knew you almost as well as Eddie did though, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to sit down at a restaurant with them and bullshit your way out of not eating a proper meal like you should.

Eddie knows now he has to say something. Anything, really. When you walk out of your shared bedroom in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, Eddie chews on his bottom lip as he mentally prepares for the conversation he knows needs to happen.

The moment you sit down on the couch, Eddie sits next to you. You reach for the remote but your hand doesn’t even make it to the piece of plastic before Eddie speaks.

“Can we, um, talk?”

“About what?” you ask, sitting back against the couch cushions.

Your fiancé leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He rubs his hands together and his tongue pokes out of his pouty pink lips like it does whenever he’s concentrating on something.

“I’m worried about you, babe,” he finally says. “You’re not yourself.”

Eddie doesn’t miss the way you reflexively shrink in on yourself.

“I’m just stressed with wedding stuff,” you say.

“That’s why you didn’t hang out with Nancy and Robin?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Mhm.”

“And all the pinching and not eating and not wanting me to see you naked? Is that because of wedding stress, too?”

You turn away from him and pull your knees to your chest, but he moves to face you again. “Baby, I know something’s wrong. And the last time I saw you like this, it was because…”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you snap. “I’m just stressed. Maybe if you spent more time helping me plan and less time planning stupid campaigns for a game you played back in high school, you’d understand.”

The accusation is unfair, and you know it. Sure, you’ve been doing most of the planning, but he’s been there every step of the way.

Eddie winces at your harsh tone. He looks like he has a rebuttal but gives up after a moment “Fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

Guilt from your outburst wracks your body and holds sleep hostage. After tossing and turning for a little while, you hear soft cries coming from Eddie’s side of the bed.

“Eds?” Your heart leaps into your chest. “What’s going on?” You give him a hug from behind, latching on like a koala to a tree trunk until he turns to face you.

Even in the darkness, you can see the way his eyes shine with tears. “I know you relapsed and…and I don’t know what to do,” he manages through his sobs. “I don’t know how to help, so I just stand there like a goddamn idiot, but I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong! I can’t keep pretending that you’re not hurting yourself!”

He knew. The whole time you thought you’d been protecting him from the truth, and he knew.

You wipe at his cheeks, feeling the moisture on your palms. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his head. “‘S not your fault, I know it’s not, but…you need to get help for this. I can’t lose my girl.” He presses his lips to your forehead and lets them linger there, holding you as tightly as he can. “Please. Please.”

No. You need to lose weight. You need to look good; no, perfect in your dress. All eyes are going to be on you, and you can’t show a single flaw.

The argument sits on your tongue, defensiveness ready to spring into action. But then you see his brokenness, his vulnerability as he unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve.

Skinny. Skinnier. Skinniest.

But then—Eddie.

Eddie, who laid his heart out for you. Who let down the walls he’d spent years building just so he could receive your love. Who felt your pain despite your best attempts to shield him from it.

Maybe you weren’t ready to get better for yourself, but until you were, you could do it for him.

You nod, pulling back and kissing him softly. “I will. I promise. First thing tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll wake you up the moment the sun rises.”

At this, you have to let out a small laugh. “The therapy clinic doesn’t open until nine.”

Eddie cradles your face in his calloused palms, leaning in to gently kiss your nose. “Then I’ll wake you up at nine.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #request

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duckweave · 2 months

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Another Gale Romance headcanon: Wedding Edition

How would Gale be at wedding planning?

I feel as though he would get so excited that he’d have full involvement on everything, but whenever Tav expresses their wants, he’d break down into his “So long as it’s with you, I’d be fine without such ceremony.”

Which makes Tav melt but also it frustrates the hell out of them because once he’s given the chance he will take over planning again.

Because it’s Gale. And he quite literally planned out your first night together, as well as your future date night in his tower, so gods know the kind of man he’d be during his wedding.

More elaborate headcanons below….

Gale wedding planning banter:

G: “Tara, you must wear this robe and flower crown if you’re going to take part in this wedding. I insist!”

T: “Mr. Dekarios, I look absolutely ridiculous. Look how much it covers my ears! How am I going to be able to hear for pigeons with this thing in the way?”

AND

Gale [writing his vows and reading them out loud]: “My dearest love, I promise to love and cherish you to the outer planes and beyond. By Mystra’s will, I-“ *realizes what he just wrote and frantically erases it*

BUT ALSO

Gale: “Tav, you are everything. You complete me in every possible way. I love you and I can’t wait to marry you.”

Tav: “If you loved me, you’d let me pick at least one song to be played for us to dance to.”

Gale *awkwardly*: “Right, yes. Forgive me.”

ONE MORE

G: “Lae’zel cannot bring her dragon. Waterdeep could never handle such a beast. She will have to find another way here.”

T: “She has no other way to travel to our dimension, Gale.”

On the day of, he keeps trying to check in on Tav. He sent a simulacrum to look after Tav but also to make sure Tav arrived and is on time (his anxiety was telling him all night that Tav would get cold feet.)

He’s also frantically running around to make sure everything is running smoothly and all is in order. He’s dressed to the nines, as you’d expect from him, and the venue is extravagant and lavish. And purple. Everything is purple.

He uses the weave to set a stunning backdrop behind them as the ceremony takes place. Most likely an Aurora or a galaxy.

Tav and Gale fought over who should officiate (he wanted Elminster but Tav said no), however they settle on Withers.

Everything goes beautifully, it is a night to remember and their friends didn’t embarrass them too much.

Astarion attempted to make a speech, but he was a little drunk so Gale told him to sit down and behave.

Karlach’s dance moves were so fire that the bard playing the music literally caught fire. It was frightening until Gale conjured a gush of water over the bard to extinguish.

Gale finally relaxes at the end of the night, hand in hand with his beloved. Watching the party dwindle down, he remembers the orb, the tadpole, the Absolute, and every hardship he endured in life that led him to this point - and he cries from how lucky he really is.

Ok maybe I need to make a fic of this lol.

#bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate gale #bg3 tav #gale romance #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 romance #bg3 headcanons #gale bg3 #galemance #gale fic #gale headcanons #gale x reader #tav x gale

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weird-an · 6 months

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Billy comes home from work, limbs aching and fingers dirty from working at the garage all day. Their apartment is a shitty little thing, a dumpster how Mrs. Harrington called it the one and only time she had been visiting and Steve told her it's more of a home than the big empty house back in Loch Nora.

He stops dead on his tracks. Steve is wearing his best dress shirt and there's a fucking rose next to a candle on the table.

"What is this?" Billy asks. His heart is sinking into a swamp. He hates surprises as much as he hates turning his back against the door.

"Just some... uh.. slightly burned lasagna." Steve's face turns red.

"That's why I do the cooking." Billy frowns. "Are you breaking up?"

This doesn't make any sense. They don't do romance. Billy can't.

"What? No!" Steve groans. "Why would I try to bake cherry pie for that?"

Billy huffs out a laugh, more relief than anything. Also, there's a red smudge on Steve's most expensive shirt.

"We've been together for five years now," Steve begins. "Even if you were in denial for... like the first three years."

Billy swallows hard.

"I love you," Steve says. "And I know you love me, too."

Billy bites his tongue. He has never said it. He can't, stumbles over his own tongue the second he thinks of it. He tries to show Steve instead, sometimes too harsh or too clumsy, because he isn't really sure what gentleness is supposed to be, but he tries.

"Billy, I want to stay with you forever." Steve gets out a tiny black box with shaky hands. "I'll love you every day, every night. Do you wanna marry me?"

He opens the box. The golden band sparkles in the candlelight.

"We can't get married," Billy croaks. The ring is broader than a usual wedding band - which it can't be anyway, because they can't get married and because Billy isn't stupid enough to believe that Steve wants to stay with him until death.

Steve grins at him, a shining star in the dark of the night. "We fought against monsters. We left Hawkins. We can do anything."

"But it's- The state-"

"It's not about the piece of paper," Steve says. "It's about us."

"Yes," Billy hears himself say. Because he can never say no to Steve Harrington. Because he tried to get away from him, but every way to happiness leads back to him. Because Steve is a gift Billy didn't know he needed, because Steve is his ocean, because Steve is the sun rising in the morning.

Steve's smile is brilliant. His lips taste like burned cheese and red wine.

Billy never thought he'd get married. Billy never thought he'd have a future. Billy never thought he could love someone like he does love Steve.

"I don't want six kids," he mumbles. He wouldn't know how to be a father, he thinks.

Steve gives him a knowing look. "How about five?"

#robin marries them privately in their home and of course nothing is official but i can see it #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy

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i9messi · 10 months

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Speak Now — Max Verstappen

You're Max’s best friend. When he announces he's gonna get married you can't believe it. Is it too late and inopportune to let him know you're in love with him?

Word count — 1,8k

a/n: happy ending!!

max’s masterlist

"I'm going to get married. She said yes."

The call seemed to end abruptly, but you knew very well that Max was on the other side of the line, waiting for your answer. A bittersweet taste had settled in your mouth and tears began to build up in your eyes, all as you thought of what response to give. A best friend would be happy for him, a best friend would just want to see him fulfill his dreams. However, things were complicated. You felt sad, broken and submerged in deep pain.

In your stupidest dreams, you’d hoped Max would finally notice you. You’d been there, you’d listened to him and advised him every time he fought with his girlfriend. You pretended to be happy when you saw them coming back. Max had gotten so used to your presence that you had become invisible to his eyes. You were just a friend to him.

In part, it was no surprise that Max had proposed to his partner. You had assumed that sooner or later the relationship was going to become much stronger. Still, you didn’t expect to do it so soon.

"Are you there?"

"Oh, yes, Max. I’m sorry." You swallowed saliva. "I’m happy for you."

When you closed your eyes, it didn’t seem right. Max didn’t have to marry her. It wasn’t the way it should have been.

Seven months later and after much anxiety on your part, it was finally the wedding day. You had hesitated to go, mainly because your invitation had rarely never arrived. Max wasn’t aware of the way the bride had excluded you, and you hadn’t told him either. Daniel was the one who insisted multiple times on going together. In his company you had reached the beautiful place where Max was going to get married, and your eyes connected with the rest of the guests. The bride’s family were dressed in pastel.

"When the priest says speak now or forever hold your peace you have to appear abruptly and say that he is your man. Wave me down a little early so I can get my cell phone and record it." Danny joked, although it wasn’t really being a total joke, a small part of him expected the ceremony to be canceled. You denied with your head.

"I’ll behave myself, it’s Max’s day."

Daniel let out a sigh.

"I’ll go get alcohol, we need it a lot."

As the Australian disappeared from your sight, you were left alone, looking everywhere. You could feel curious looks on you. Some of the bride’s friends looked at you with raised eyebrows, while whispering among them. Barely five minutes passed, when two of them decided to come over to talk to you.

"I didn’t know you were invited," said the first.

"If I remember correctly, the bride didn’t invite you."

To save you, Daniel returned to your side, with two glasses of some liquid. The girls came back with their friends' group and your friend offered you a drink.

"You need it more than I do."

You hadn’t seen Max yet and you wanted to cry. So you got the drink and tasted the alcohol in your lips. You were just gonna have a drink, you didn’t want to be a sad drunk that day. You’d save the tears for later, when you were in the privacy of your home.

"Why do I feel like I’m being practically kicked out of here? I know I wasn’t invited, but I don’t have to be treated like I broke in either."

"The thing is, it’s painful to see the person you love marry someone else. It’s obvious how you feel about Max and nobody expected you to actually decide to come here."

"He’s my best friend, as much as it hurts, I want to see him happy."

"Even when he's happy with someone else?"

You nodded, "Even to someone other than me."

Daniel Ricciardo shook his head, "I’m told Max is nervous. I think it would do him good to talk to you. You’re the only one who knows how to calm him when he’s like this."

After a bad race, you were always there to have a conversation with him. Max Verstappen was a self-confident person, but he also got easily mad when things didn’t go the way he had planned. There was a lot of pressure on him to do his best. Even when you weren’t in the same country as him, one phone call from you was enough to get him in a better mood.

You nodded and went to where Max was supposedly to be. You knocked on the door and took a breath, that’s when you heard his voice saying you could pass. The vision completely shattered you. Max was wearing a black suit, one that fit him perfectly. He was even more beautiful than usual, he was the perfect groom. It was just a few minutes before he went out and tied himself up for the rest of his life with another woman. Realization caused you a new wound in your heart.

"Max."

"Here you are, lieverd. I’ve been looking for you for hours."

He came practically running to your side and melted you into a hug. Having him around and at the same time so far away, you ended up breaking. You started shaking and crying in his arms, it was impossible to hold him much longer. Max finally heard your sobs and noticed your tremor, his concern grew.

"What's wrong?"

When you didn’t answer, he took you by the face and your eyes met.

"Tell me, what's wrong?"

It was too late. You couldn’t say you loved him, it was his wedding. You wanted to oppose it, you wanted to yell at the priest that they couldn’t get married. That Max was marrying the wrong girl. Yet you couldn’t do it. You loved him enough to want him to be happy.

You shook your head, "I’m sorry, Max. I have to go, I just... I hope you're happy."

"Wait!"

You ignored him and ran as fast as you could, away from him. You found an empty room and with the curtains closed, the atmosphere of the room seemed dull and melancholy. You knelt on the floor and allowed yourself to cry. It didn’t matter anymore, the person you loved the most in your life was going to marry someone else. After months of waiting, Max was going to say yes in a few minutes.

"Lieverd."

"Don’t call me that."

You didn’t know when he had gotten to where you were. Not caring about the dust in the room, he knelt on the floor next to you. His suit was going to be ruined because of you.

"What’s wrong with you? Why are you running? Why are you crying?"

You looked at him, "Don’t tell me you don’t know, Max. Everybody knows."

"Knows what?"

"I’m in love with you and it hurts so much."

Max was puzzled by your statement. Hell, you thought, why did you have to talk? Couldn’t you have waited, or at least shut up for the rest of your life?

"Look, I know I’m being selfish and it wasn’t the way this day was supposed to be. It’s your day, it’s your wedding and you just have to be focused on your wife-to-be."

"Are you in love with me?"

"Max..."

"Answer."

Max held his breath and so did you. There was no room for lies.

"Yes, I am. I have loved you for years."

"And why didn’t you ever tell me?"

"Because I know you don’t feel the same way, and I understand. But I don’t want to lose you as a friend, and I certainly didn’t want you looking at me like you are now." you closed your eyes and opened them again, Max was looking at you with those eyes that you had fallen in love with. "It doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn’t change anything. Nothing’s gonna change, telling you just made everything worse."

"Since when do you feel this?”

"Max..." his gaze let you know that he needed you to answer his question. "I’ve loved you since we met, and I think the most tragic part about this is that I don’t think I can stop even if I wanted to."

There was a prolonged silence. You let out a sigh, you had ruined everything.

"I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry for everything, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again."

Max stopped you before you could get up, his hand held yours in a strong grip. You could feel the warmth of his hand and you could almost hear your own heartbeat.

"No, don’t go away."

"Max."

"What makes you think I don’t feel the same way about you? What makes you think I’m happily marrying her?

"You’re not happy? I don’t understand... it’s your marriage, you and her—"

"Stop, listen to me. I know that I was supposed to marry her, I’ve thought several times about what was supposed to be best for me. I thought I loved her and she was the one... but I can’t stop thinking about you. Funny, isn’t it? Because while I’m thinking about you, she doesn’t even occupy even a fraction of my mind. While I have been waiting in that room, I have thought of everything."

"I know now she’s not the woman I want to marry, that’s you. It’s always been you. And now that you’re saying this, that you’re in love with me- I can’t know that the woman I’m in love with also feels the same way about me, and that with my decision I’m breaking her heart."

You couldn’t understand anything that was going on. It almost seemed like a dream, finally someone seemed to hear your prayers.

"But you’re going to marry her, she’s waiting for you. The guests..."

"I don’t care about anyone, I only care about you. I love you. Only you."

You smiled, "Max, are you sure?"

"I am."

And saying that, he grabbed your cheeks and kissed you. It was the first kiss, his lips felt exactly as you had dreamed. It was a sweet and desperate kiss, two lovers who despite the tragic events they had experienced, finally let their hearts be heard. You couldn’t believe it, Max felt the same. You grabbed him harder, never wanting him to separate from you. You wanted the moment to last a lifetime, because you had never been happier. When you walked away, you smiled at him and his eyes shone.

"I love you, Lieverd."

Just a couple of minutes later, Daniel helped the two of you escape from the horrified looks from everyone in the room.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen headcanons #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen #verstappen #verstappen one shots #f1 #max verstappen f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot

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luvyeni · 7 months

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THE HIGH LORD OF AUTUMN COURT; KIM SEUNGMIN

PAIRINGS. highfae!seungmin x fae!reader

WC. 3.5k+

WARNINGS. 18+, language, unprotected sex, choking, name calling, brat taming, miscommunication

SYNOPSIS. you and seungmin of autumn court have hated each other ever since you were little kids, you two are now adults and seungmin has to find a wife to help continue on his bloodline, and guess who it is?

DISCLAIMER! THIS IS NOT AFFILIATED WITH THE BOOK SERIES BUT IT WILL HAVE REFERENCES TO THE BOOK.

you still remember where your hatred for kim seungmin , the son of the high fae of autumn court – you were five years old , your father was second in command to the high fae , it was during a meeting , a meeting you’d soon find out was basically your pre-engagement.

you were playing with another child , when they suddenly stopped. “what’s wrong.” they pointed to the small boy across the fields. “that’s kim seungmin , he’s the son of the high lord.” he sat under a tree , just staring at you two. “should we ask him to play?” your new friend shook their head. “i heard he was mean.”

you flagged them off. “you shouldn’t listen to rumors.” you stood up , walking over to him – you should’ve just listened to your friend.

“hi!” you cheerfully greeted him , he just looked up at you. “do you want to play with us?” he stood , you thought he was gonna say yes , boy were you wrong. instead , the boy who you didn’t even know , pushed you to the ground , you fell with a thud , he just walked past you muttering a “go away.”

you stood up , pushing him back. “you can’t just push people.” he frowned , pushing you back. “i can do what i want , i’m gonna be the next high lord.” this then led to both of fighting out in the grass , tugging at each other’s hair , rolling around in the dirt – until you were pulled apart by your parents who noticed.

“what is going on?” your mother brushed off your dress. “look at your dress , you are a lady , you don’t fight around in the dirt.” you were too busy trying to get at the boy who was being held back by his mother. “he was being a meanie.” you exclaimed. “she was being annoying.” he fought back.

both your fathers stepped in , stopping both of you. “both of you , that’s enough.” your father shouted. “you two are to be the next in line , you should get along.” you looked at the boy who was eyeing you down. “i hate you kim seungmin , i will never marry you.”

that was years ago , you two were both adults , more mature , you would’ve thought you two would be past that , grown to get along – absolutely not , ever since that day , you’d fight every-time you were in the same vicinity you’d fight like cats and dogs , and that’s saying something since you’d basically see each other almost every day.

“both of you should at least try and get along.” lilly , your childhood friend , and lady and waiting said as she helped you into your dress. “i mean you both will have to be married soon , he’s at the age where he is soon to be crowned high lord , and he needs to be married in ordered for that to happen.” you scoffed , turning to face her. “then i guess autumn court will never have a new high lord , because i will never marry that asshole.”

you both made your way down to the dining hall where both of your parents where waiting. “good morning mother , father.” you sat down , the maids jumping to put food on your plate. “thank you.” you said , about to dig into your food , when your mother coughed. “sit up straight.” you sighed , obeying. “can i eat now?” she nodded.

it was a awkward silence , that you caught on to quickly , putting down your silverware. “why is everyone acting so weird today?” you questioned. “i take it lilly didn’t tell you?” lilly’s mother – who was your mothers lady in waiting said. “tell me what lilly?” you turned to your friend. “i tried , i really did , she’s not the easiest to talk to.” you were confused , turning to your dad. “what are they babbling about dad?”

“well honey – it’s time for you to be wed to seungmin.” you laughed. “like hell.” your mother gasped. “(y/n)!” you turned to lily , who weakly smiled at you. “that why you kept bringing seungmin up , traitor you knew this happening.” you scoffed. “she’s your lady in waiting dear , that’s her job.”

“whatever , i’m not doing it.” you said. “they’re many faeries out there , find one and get them to do it.” your father spoke up. “that’s not how that works , this has been in the world since you two were kids” you looked at him. “you don’t see how problematic that is?” lilly and her parents watched you fight back and forth about the subject – until your mother had enough. “there’s no discussing this , you both are adults , he is coming into the crown soon and it’s time for you to marry , no more fighting it , the engagement party is later this evening.”

you stood up , slamming your utensils down , stomping away from the table , lilly following behind you. “how long have you known this?” you pushed the doors to your room open. “a few weeks , i was supposed to tell you about the party a week ago , that’s why i came in that day to get your measurements.” you glared at her , she whined , grabbing your hand. “i’m sorry , but i was scared about what you would say.”

you flopped down on the bed , pouting. “you don’t know what this means , after the engagement party , we’ll have to move in with each other.” you said. “well i do have to move in with you , so.” you eyed her again. “sorry.” she said , realizing she wasn’t helping. “we’ll have to be seen in public together , and act like we like each other.” you shivered in disgust. “i mean , you could actually get along , it’s not hard , you aren’t five anymore.” you turned to your friend. “you’re just my lady in waiting , no longer my friend.”

after more fighting with your parents , which you lost everyone , you were dragged out of your room by lilly , forced into the carriage – literally forced into the carriage , and driven into the forest house castle , which would also be your new home after tonight.

“you do look beautiful though.” lilly tried to ease the mood as you sat and got your makeup down. “of course i do , i just wish it was under better circumstances.” you said. “like his funeral.” you heard a familiar scoff behind you. “very classy.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” you said. “that’s on the wedding day dumbass.” he rebutted , now standing behind you. “well then let’s pretend it’s our wedding day everyday for the rest of our lives.”

he smirked , putting his hand on your shoulder. “i agree , it is hard to look at you sometimes.” he was trying to get under your skin. “i will set your hand on fire if you don’t let me go.” you spat angrily because it was in fact was working. “okay , that’s enough both of you.” seungmins’ second in command , juhan said. “no need for all this.” lilly said trying to ease the tension.

“why are you in here seungmin?” you said. “you’ve been preparing all for this your entire life , you mean to tell me you don’t know that we have to walk in together.” you turned to lilly , who nodded. “it’s true.” you grumbled angrily , standing up straightening out your dress. “let’s get this over with.” you linked arms with him , his eyes widening. “why are you looking at me like that?” you said , he quickly changed his face. “nothing.” he awkwardly coughed. “it’s just that you actually look like a lady of the court , and not one of the creatures in the woods.

seungmin smirked as he watched your eyes twitched in anger , dragging him down the hall , cursing under your breath , he allowed you to drag him behind , still thinking about the moment in the room – why the hell did his heart skip a beat when you touched his arm?

you guys stood at the doors of the ballroom , waiting to be called in , he stared at your face that was twisted up in a frown , he was about to make a joke to piss you off , but he decided not to and it was right on time , because the door was opening. “future high lord and lady of autumn court kim seungmin , and (y/ln)(y/n).” they announced , everyone looking up to see the new couple.

you two walked through the doors , making your way over to the balcony standing over the people. he unlinked your arms , his arm wrapping around your waist. “smile you idiot , people are watching.” you put on your best fake smile. “unhand my waist before i burn you.” to everyone you both looked like a cute newly engaged couple – but the both of you , your parents and lily and juhan could see the tension as you stood next to him while seungmin gave his speech.

after he was done , you two made your way down the steps , where the party had began to start. “congratulations you two.” seungmins’ mother said , you nodded. “you both will make a fine lady and high lord.” you waited for them all to walk away , before you dropped his arm. “i need a drink.” you walked away.

you found the closest maid holding glasses of champagne , walking over to them , kindly taking a cup , downing back the drink – about to reach for another one , when seungmin ruined it , telling the maid to go serve elsewhere. “are you a heathen?” he said grabbing your arm. “you aren’t supposed to be drinking like you’re in a pub somewhere.” you tried to snatch your arm away , but he was much stronger. “let me go.”

he pulled you closer to him , your face pressed against his chest , it looked like you two were hugging. “you won’t ruin this for me.” he growled. “you can hate me all you want , but when we’re in front of a bunch of important people , you will behave.” you eyes widened , the way he was talking to you , his voice much deeper , it was kinda attractive…

what were you thinking , pushing him off of you. “i-i’ll kill you the next time you touch me like that.” you said bitterly , walking away to find lily , he smirked – he could hear how your heart started to race.

you managed to survive the night , putting on a smile to greet all the different fairies and lords from other realms who travel to see the next on the throne. as the night came to a end , and people began to leave , here came the part you dreaded the most – where you’ll basically be handed off to seungmin officially.

“we’ll be spending our retirement days in peace.” you stood listening to mrs.kim and your mom speak. “that’s great.” for them you thought. “you’ll make a fine lady of autumn court (y/n).” she said. “thank you mrs.kim.” you said , wanting the night to be over.

“this place is all yours now.” seungmin stood with his father and yours. “soon you’ll be wed and then crowned high lord.” he smiled , he didn’t mind that his life was planned out for him , sure the idea of having his wife picked out for him wasn’t ideal , giving that he didn’t necessarily care for his new wife , but he cared about being high lord more. “treat my daughter right , she’s still my little princess.” he wanted to snicker , more like devil in disguise. “i will sir.” he gave your father a firm handshake.

“the rest of your belongings will be brought tomorrow , lilly brought over a few things weeks ago in preparation.” you really should keep an eye out for that fairy. “of course she did.” your mother kissed your cheek , your father pulling you into a hug. “we’ll be going now.” you waved them off , they waved back leaving in the carriage you had arrived in , this time without you.

you waited for his family to leave , the doors shutting , you turned walking away. “where are you going?” seungmin followed behind you. “to bed , i can’t stand to look at you anymore.” you smirked to yourself , making your way to the main bedroom , only to be pushed by the jerk who was your fiancé. “what are you doing you asshole?” you barked. “that’s where i sleep , there are many other rooms , go find one.” You scoffed. “fuck you , you go find another room.”

this lead to you both pushing each other , slinging insults at each other until you got to the room , you quickly laid starfish on the bed. “what a classy fairy.” he scoffed , “move.” you didn’t budge. “no , fuck off , you go find another room.” he rolled his eyes easily pushing your body off the bed on to the floor , sitting down. “you can’t beat me.”

you stubbornly sat on the other side , folding your arms. “sit there then , you brat.” he got up. “but i won’t leave , this is my castle.” you scoffed. “it’s just as mines as it is yours.” you said. “oh really , i’m the high lord , you’re just supposed to stand there and look pretty.” that set you off. “you know what you sleep here.” you threw a pillow at him. “i’ll sleep out in the fields before i even sleep in this castle.” he scoffed. “that’s fine , hopefully you’re eaten.”

you stopped turning around. “that’s why everyone hates you , you’re such a egotistical jerk , and everyone would rather die than be around you.” you spat , he stood up off the bed. “shit the fuck up.” he said but you kept going. “the only person you have is juhan and that’s probably because he has no choice , you are such a miserable fae- hmph!” your voice was cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. “you just keep running your mouth , i said shut up.”

his eyes were dark , his voice sending shockwaves in between your legs. “you been nothing but a fucking brat all night , didn’t i tell you to behave earlier?” he squeezed tighter , you gasped. “l-let me go.” you stuttered , he smirked. “why is it turning you on?” you scoffed , pushing him , but he didn’t budge. “you wish.” you said , but you were bluffing , and he could tell – letting you go , you gasped for air , glaring at him. “fucking asshole.”

“take your dress off.” he ordered. “fuck you , no.” he stared down at you , you were dripping now , panties soaked. “take it off , or i’ll burn it off.” couldn’t tell if he was joking or not , and you kinda wanted to find out , but deciding not to , you slowly undid the side zipper of the dress , letting it fall to the floor.

his eyes fixed on your body , you tried to shy away , but he grabbed your arm , pushing you down to your knees. “gotta train you little fairy.” he undid the button to his burnt orange slacks , letting them fall to the floor. “train you to be a good little fairy and not a brat.” he pulled his cock out , red tip dripping with pre-cum , slapping it on your face. “open your mouth.” he pressed his tip against your lips , you parted your lips slightly and he pushed himself inside.

he groaned , grabbing your hair , guiding you up and down on his cock. “suck my cock right.” the faerie pushed you head down fully on his cock. “fu-fuck!” he groaned , as you bobbed your head , hollowing cheeks sucking. “you’re not that bad , must be used to sucking cocks.” you rolled your eyes. “do-do that again and see what happens.” he growled. “sh-shit , keep sucking.”

he grabbed your head , keeping it still as he moved his hips , messily fucking your throat , gagging and gurgling on his cock making him smirk. “there you go , take my cock down your throat.” he groaned. “making such a mess on my cock , what a nasty faerie.” he held your head against his pubic bone. “fuck!” he pulled your head away , you gasped and coughed. “get it together i’m not done.”

he grabbed your arm , pulling you up , pushing you down on the huge bed , face down ass up. “look at that pussy , all wet.” he slapped your ass. “you’re supposed to hate me so much , but here you are , dripping just from sucking my cock.” he yanked your underwear down. “you’ve probably been wet since earlier on dance floor.” you yelp as he slapped your ass. “fucking answer me.” he said. “yes , fuck!” he chuckled. “fucking slut , is that what you wanted this entire time.” he got on the bed behind you , rubbing his cock against your folds. “for me to fuck you.” he pushed his tip in. “treat you like a slut.” he slammed inside of you. “fuck!” you screamed , he held your waist fucking into your cunt.

“sh-shit such a tight cunt.” he grunted. “claiming you hate me , but here you are clenching around my cock like a slut.” he slapped your ass. “is that all you wanted? Hmm , to be my little cock drunk faerie?” you nodded , he grabbed the back of your neck. “answer me slut.” you nodded , feeling your orgasm approaching. “ye-yes fuck , please i’m gonna cum.” you moaned. “hold it.” he slapped your ass. “c-c-can’t.” his thrust began to become unsteady , his balls hitting your clit urging your orgasm. “ngh fuck , cum now.” on his command you came , he pulled out of you painting your back with his warm cum.

he didn’t say anything , getting up walking into gigantic bathroom , you heard water running , then turning off. he returned back with a cloth , wiping you off. you watched him , his touch was much softer , he looked deep in thought as he cleaned you up. “the maids left this out for you , put this on.” he handed you a night gown , turning away from you , like he didn’t just see you naked while you got dressed.

he quietly helped you into bed , getting up about to leave. “where are you going?” you questioned. “you don’t want me in here , i won’t disrespect you anymore , i’ll leave you be.” he was about to make his way out when you stopped him. “come back to bed.” you said , he turned to you confused. “don’t make me say it.” you furrowed your eyebrows , folding your arms stubbornly. “say what?” he sat back down on the bed. you turned your head , but he grabbed your jaw , forcing you to look at him. “say what.” you whined. “i’m sorry.” he smirked letting your face go. “i guess i did go too far this time , it’s just that you sometimes make me so upset.” you said. “that’s only because you insult me first.” he said. “only because you’re rude to me , you’ve always been rude to me , ever since we were kids.”

“are you still on about from when we were five (y/n) , i was five , i didn’t know any better , i only treated you like this because you acted like you hated me.” he said , you pouted. “well now i just feel stupid.” you said. “that’s because you are stupid.” he said flicking your forehead. “come here.” he pulled you close to him. “you want me to apologize for what i did as a kid , will that make you feel better?” he squeezed you. “we’ll be married soon , and i don’t want this to be a problem anymore.” you nodded. “yes , yes i do.” he hummed , kissing your neck.

“i’m sorry.” his hand came up to your thigh , slowly creeping up to your night gown. “s-seungmin.” you moaned. “i’m so sorry for pushing down and hurting your feelings all those years ago.” he cupped your heat. “i’m gonna make it up to you okay.” he rubbed your folds.

“let me make it up to you.”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids fics #skz fics #seungmin imagines #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin hard hours #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin scenarios #kim seungmin fanfic #seungmin smut

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fastlikealambo · 5 months

Text

Connubium.|| Coriolanus Snow x Black Fem Reader

Chapter Five

table of contents.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three.

Chapter Four.

Summary: Stealing from The Capitol is a deadly offense, yet you’ve done it more times than you can count but when you do something you should not have done, Volumnia Gaul decides a fate for you that might just be worse than death.

Notes: This takes place post The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes and Coryo is in his last year at The University, studying under Dr. Gaul. This will not follow canon, I’m not an expert on all the lore so I apologize if I get things wrong.

Disclaimer: You know Coriolanus is a POS, I know Coriolanus is a POS, please don’t yell at me because this is just a fun little story, something for thee hotties, and if you feel that strongly against President Snow, please let me know if you’d like me to sign you up for tessarae.

Warnings: violence against reader, gore, blood, injuries, bones being put back in place.

18+ only

Thanks for the love and messages on chapter four! If you want to see chapter six, comment or reblog, feedback makes me want to continue!

As you slept, Coriolanus studied you.

Tucking a stray curl underneath the silk on your hair, he studied your face. The stressed expression you had concerned him, he fought the urge to smooth the knitted space between your brows.

He could do this every night.

Courtships were quick affairs in The Capitol, arranged and wed within weeks, hours even, depending on the wealth of each party and what could be gained.

A wealthy orphan such as yourself worked in Coryo’s favor, no parents to impress, no dowries, just you and your ability to control a room.

Coriolanus had plans for Panem and he needed someone at his side who could stand with him, without fear.

President Ravinstill represented the victory of war, old and bloated, a reminder of the dark days.

You would be the face of his Panem, bright and beautiful.

Yes, you would do just fine.

The smell of smoke interrupted Coryo’s study and he untangled himself from you to go to the window, throwing open the curtains.

The sun had yet to come up but a fire in a visible quarter of The Capitol raged, illuminating the sky and from the Plinth’s window he could see multiple hovercrafts carrying water to douse the flames.

“Coryo?”

You stood next to him, watching the fiery scene and he took your hand in his, rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

A knock on the door brought you both from the window and you opened it to see Mrs. Plinth, a worried expression on her face.

“There’s been a bombing, it’s all over the news. Peacekeepers want everyone in their own homes within the hour. I’ll get you some food to take home, dears.” She said kindly.

Too quickly you were standing outside, Coryo’s suit jacket draped around your shoulders, waiting for your car.

“ I was going to ask you to lunch with Tigris and Grandma’am but I think we’ll have to reschedule.” Coryo said.

“You’ll just have to make it up to me, Coriolanus Snow. If waltzing and a bombing are typical society affairs, I’m eager to see what happens the next time we’re together.”

With a kiss upon your hand, Coriolanus helped you into the car, noticing it was driven by a peacekeeper.

Peacekeepers weren’t usually drivers.

“Excuse me, if I’m going to meet Dr. Gaul, I’d like to change first.” You said, wanting very much to get out of a dress you’d been in for far too long but the peacekeeper kept driving right past your residence.

“Where are we going?” You asked but as usual, you were ignored and the car continued past The Corso,eventually coming to a stop outside a familiar looking building.

Even in the dark, you knew where you were and a fear you hadn’t had in years greeted you like an old friend.

The Arena.

A peacekeeper opened the door and three more took hold of you, yanking you of the car. Your claims that you could walk just fine went unheard as they dragged you with purpose into the massive yet crumbling amphitheater.

Nothing could quite prepare you for the scope of it, having only seen it back home on a tv that turned off and on during the games if you didn’t kick it three times. You couldn’t remember the last time it was used but there you were, taking in the sights while they shoved you through the turnstile.

“Enjoy the show!” A broken down robotic voice said.

“My little thief, right on time! Don’t you look pretty?” Dr. Gaul said, pointing to a spot for the peacekeepers to throw you down.

“What is this, why am I here?” You asked, standing to your feet, looking around at the empty structure.

“As you well aware, there was an attack on The Capitol this morning, a poorly constructed bomb killed two Capitol citizens. Imagine my surprise when we caught the animal behind this, I found out he’s from your district!”

“Dr. Gaul, I’m not behind this, you have my parents, I’m already risking everything-

“Oh no young lady, we know you weren’t behind this, we just need you to clean up a mess for the glory of Panem.”

A familiar voice and the sound of marching feet echoed throughout the arena and out of the shadows strolled President Ravinstill and his guards.

Of course, they would be working together.

“I believe you’ve already met President Ravinstill so no need for introductions. Gentlemen, if you please!” Dr. Gaul called out and from another corner came muffled screaming.

Two peacekeepers dragged a badly beaten man in front of you, one eye swollen shut, the other widening in recognition.

District 6 was big, but you knew him, he worked on delivery trains.

You used to see his children chase after the hefty freighter, waving to him on his route.

“If you’d be so kind, dear girl.” President Ravinstill said, placing a handgun into your shaking hand.

No, please, no.

“I don’t want to do this, I don’t need to do this, you have guns, you do it.” You stuttered.

“Just pretend he’s a morphling, that worked the last time, didn’t it?” Dr. Gaul asked. President Ravinstill walked up behind you and wrenched your hands into position, the gun on the man’s forehead but you dropped the gun, a missed shot ringing in the air.

“I have a better idea. Let him up, gentlemen.” Dr. Gaul said and clapped her hands.

“Enjoy the show!”

Peacekeepers filed into the arena, blocking off the exits and breaks in the concrete where the floor and tunnels caved in, forming a circle around the perimeter.

A peacekeeper unlocked the cuffed man and heaved him to his feet in front of Dr. Gaul who pointed a gloved hand in your direction.

“You see her? We’ll pin all of your mess on her and you’ll get to see your family again. All you have to do is kill her and everything is forgiven. ” Dr. Gaul whispered into his ear.

Surely he couldn’t actually believe that?

He took a step in Gaul’s direction and for a moment you believed the rebel in him saw through the lies and he’d take out Dr. Gaul and President together.

Was this the moment a rebellion was born?

But then you saw it, a shine in his uninjured eye, that told you this was just a man who wanted to go home.

“Young lady, I suggest you run.” President Ravinstill instructed.

If he couldn’t catch, he couldn’t kill you.

So you ran.

Shoes off, you ran with him on your heels, climbing up a piece of debris towards what was left of the stands, dress and skin ripping as you climbed this way and that, trying to tire him out. He stumbled but kept up the pace and you brought your bleeding hands to a corner to get further up but a warning shot made you freeze, unable to climb any higher.

That split second of indecision worked in his favor and the man grabbed your still tender ankle and brought you back down to the same level as him.

His hands were around your throat, slamming you back on the concrete before you had a chance to get back up, kicking wildly and scratching deep into his arms, the world around you starting to blur.

You weren’t a fighter, that morphling was drugged out of his mind, you couldn’t steal your way out of this.

Would they let your parents go now?

What would they tell Coriolanus?

What was the point of any of this?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a broken arrow, probably left over from the games, and as he pressed harder, anguish grunting escaping his bloody mouth, you let yourself go limp beneath him.

He would go no further.

The moment he loosened his grip ever so slightly in victory, you drove your thumb through his bad eye and as he tried everything, slammed you into everything but you wouldn’t let go until the last minute, letting him shove you into a pile of rocks, something in your shoulder popped, causing you to scream.

When he came at you one last time, you drove that arrow into his throat, watching him sink to the ground, jerking and gasping until President Ravinstill took a gun from a peacekeeper, aimed it at the man from District 6, the husband and father, one shot to make him lie still.

It wasn’t fair.

“Well done little thief, you would have made a fantastic tribute! Allow me.” Dr. Gaul gave no warning before she popped your shoulder back into place.

“It’s quite remarkable, all that Capitol finery, and you still reverted back to your most natural form.” President Ravinstill marveled, looking your bloody and bruised body up and down.

You were going to be sick.

“Do you see why I chose you now? You will do anything to survive, the ugly brutal things Capitol citizens don’t like to think about except on that very special time every year, and that’s what Panem needs alongside Coriolanus. Beauty is one thing, but brutality is what keeps the mice at bay.” Dr. Gaul said and clapped her hands once more, the peacekeepers moved from the exit.

“Go to him, little thief. Go to him and remember the only standing between becoming Mrs. Snow or ending up like your district friend here is your cooperation.” Gaul said and without another word you turned and stumbled out of the arena.

“See you Monday, young lady!” President Ravinstill called out.

You wandered through the streets of the Capitol for hours till you found yourself in front of Coryo’s apartment and more or less crawled up the stairs.

Before you could lift your hand to knock, the door flew open and Coriolanus enveloped you in his arms, your unrehearsed sobs stifled into his chest.

“Who did this to you?” He asked voice colder than you've ever experienced, touching you all over, cataloging each and every bruise and blood stain. At the noise, Tigris peeked her head out of her room only to come racing out fully when she saw you.

As you collapsed into their embrace, you had one thought in your head.

Dr. Gaul and President Ravinstill were very much like mice.

To get rid of mice, you would need a snake.

That’s Chapter 5! As usual if you’d like to see Chapter 6, please comment or reblog! Thank you for reading :)

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #Coriolanus snow x black!reader #coriolanus snow x you

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

Note

Can you make Maegor smut i can barely find any

I shall try my hand, I apologize for the 90 year wait. This was very fun and I hope you don’t mind the dark themes :) This goes out to you, dear anon, and Big Daddy fan #1 @fairysluna

And you sluts too: @borikenlove @aemondsversion @ilikeitbetterangsty @lovelykhaleesiii @godrakin @xfancyuu

Rating: EXPLICIT READ WARNINGS

Tags: TW: non-con, blood, knives, restraints, rituals and implied soul magic, background sacrifice, forced impregnation, dissociation, Maegor needs an heir still, black bride!reader, voyuerism, size kink, sex pollen/drugging, he’s a bit fond of her for now, Targs using old Valyrian magic, pnv!sex, creampie

Belly of the Beast

Huge armored Kingsguard drug you beneath the bowels of Maegor’s labyrinthian complex, your feet dragging along the ground. You’d ceased fighting two layers ago. Tyanna of the tower glared down at you, raven hair almost shining in the gloomy light. She was clad in a deep purple satin dress, pale face pinched. The rumored sorceress hummed, “You’ll do fine. We need an heir. Stop fighting it, I see it in those bovine eyes of yours.”

You whimpered in pain, feet and shins ragged from the rough treatment. Maegor was no where to be seen. You had only see him on your wedding night, the beast splitting you open and depositing his seed before leaving. When it appeared your womb had not quickened, the guards had seized you in the night. Which led to now. Something sinister curling in the air, the dark glow of the lanterns casting the halls in a murky bloody tint.

Tyanna took a left, disappearing. The guards dragged you onwards, pulling you into a rounded room. Your heart beat wildly with terror. What was this place? It reminded you of the paintings of old Valyria. Oily black stone fused by horrid magicks into bestial creatures. Tall columns twirled with blood wyrms, casting their evil gaze upon you. You cried out in fear, but your mouth was covered with thick bound rope, irritating and dry.

In the middle of the room lay an elongated stone plinth, blood smeared in unreadable lettering. Maegor waited like a hungry lion, huge muscles rippling with every movement. You could see his purple eyes dragging along your bound frame, obscene cock twitching at the site. He boomed, “Put her on the table.”

You stopped struggling again in a state of shock. You weren’t sure if they were going to kill you. Ser Darklyn and Bracken hauled you upright, placing your body on the bloody slab. Maegor shooed them off, locking each of your limbs in some sort of mechanism. He thumbed one of your teats, growling, “Such a fertile body, we’ll get a heir my littlest queen.” You gazed up at the gnarled ceiling, depicting unspeakable things and creatures. You whimpered softly as Maegor undid your gag, rumbling, “There, now they can hear your delightful crying.”

There was a balcony and there stood the dowager Queen Visenya and Tyanna. Visenya’s face was hardened, her hands covered in more blood. She called down, “Do not be afraid girl, this is a new beginning. You will give Maegor the dragon we so desperately need. Think of it as a gift.”

You nodded yes but your mind howled and tore itself apart at the seams. This was not a gift. This was an abomination. You thought of home, the seaside and the barking seals. Not this perverted facsimile of a sept. Visenya barked, “Give her the draught, my king.”

“With pleasure”, he smirked. The beast of a man stalked back to your side, a hand twice the size of your head caressing back your sweaty hair. He murmured, “Open up, you might be my true queen.” You did as so, opening your lips and drinking the thick liquid. It tasted horrid, you fought back a retch before Maegor’s hard lips forced it’s way on top. He smothered you, another huge hand squeezing the soft flesh of your hips.

There was no more you could do as he climbed on top, muscled trunks of thighs splitting yours open, tongue probing your mouth. He grabbed at your hair, biting and sucking roughly down your neck. He murmured, “Close now.” Visenya began to chant in an abnormal sounding tongue of Valyrian. Your skin felt hot to the touch, the glyphs on the walls seeming to glow.

A wave of intense arousal flowed up from your toes to head, making you whine in anguish. The sensation so intense you wrapped your legs around the king’s scarred waist and thrust your profusely leaking cunt up. Locked under the arousal your ego stood trapped, screaming for help. Instead you moaned, “Breed me my king, please, it hurts!” Maegor’s hard set eyes rolled some, his beard scratching your bloodied neck.

He chuckled darkly, “I’ll give it to you little bride of mine, fill that tiny cunt of yours, not waste a gods damned drop.” Pale calloused hands wrapped around your waist, almost encircling you. You bucked underneath him, slick pussy dragging ever so again Maegor’s huge cock. From above, Tyanna and Visenya’s stark faces disappeared as you refocused on him.

Your king, your stud, the one to fill your womb up so you can give him baby after baby. Simply a broodmare for the taking. You arched your full tits against his impossibly built chest, whining at the drag across his body hair. Maegor nuzzled at your collarbones, humming, “It’s so…delightful to watch you squirm. I could break your pretty bones into dust y’know?”

Tears burned at your eyes, the ache between your legs becoming a heady burning. In a warble you begged, “Please, do anything my king, need it, wan’ your cock, pleasepleaseplease!” Openly sobbing now, the brutish king moaned in delight, cock swelling further from your pretty tears and swollen lips. He spanned a hand down your writhing body to land on the base of his cock. Maegor grabbed the Valyrian steel knife and nicked the thin skin of his cock, grunting in annoyance as it began to drip blood.

He tossed the knife callously aside and grabbed your wide hips, shoving his cock in to the hilt. The pair of you cried out, the loud howl echoing in the dim chamber. Maegor growled, “Fucking- fuck! Tight little bride you are, felt ya’ split. Bleeding pretty on my cock.” You weren’t even registering the loss of your maidenhead, hyperfocused on the wonderful feeling of your untouched walls accommodating and stretching for Maegor’s girth. He paused in awe, patting your lower stomach.

Maegor rasped, “Look at this, can see my cock through you. Fucking hell.”

He fucked like the bull they called the king, powerful thrusts sliding you through the tacky blood. Maegor grunted and cursed, muscles flexing and glistening. He panted, “It’ll take, it’ll take, good little girl.” You begged softly, “My arms, my King, please!” In a flurry of movement he unchained you, pulling your smaller frame onto those sinful thighs of his. You rolled onto him like a brothel whore, bouncing and humping, growling and scratching.

He pulled you into a kiss, snarling, “They always said the untouched ones were the hungriest for it,” his hand came down on your ass with a loud crack! Mewling onto his hard lips you embraced the sweet pain, body still on fire with need, need, need. Maegor cursed again and rumbled, unhooking your feet and manhandling you face down on the slab, jerking your ass up into the air.

Your fingers scrabbled as Maegor quickly reentered your pussy, groaning in pleasure. “See, please him, be the bearer of that strong seed,” said your addled mind. The claps of Maegor’s hips echoed against your softer ass, him swiping a hand across with a smarmy look. He cruelly cooed, “Yeah? You like your king stuffing your sweet cunt full of seed? Mmm, when you’re all rounded out I’ll fuck another into you right after. You’re mine.”

“Yours, yours,” you whimpered deliriously.

He pulled you tighter and drug his thick cockhead across a spot you didn’t know existed, eliciting a guttural moan. One big hand locked around your slim throat, the other sneaking to that throbbing bud between your legs. You squealed and squirmed, the nerve endings sparking like wild fire across your used frame.

“No, you take it,” he snarled.

And take it you did, crying and whimpering as your belly tightened and tightened, whole body erupting in goosebumps. Your legs gave out but Maegor kept you aloft moving his huge arm from neck to your tits. In a trembly caterwaul of his name you clamped down on his thick cock and gushed on him and the bloody mess below. Maegor gasped and stuttered, sharp canines locking into your shoulder. His strokes dug deep in shallow, sloppy thrusts.

He practically roared when the load of spend painted your overspent cunt. Load after load while he cooed praise and panted in your ear. The fervor that once gripped you had abated, leaving you a boneless mess, emotions comparable to a husk. Maegor felt around for something then bent you over, shoving in a plug of sorts as soon as his cock exited. He patted your ass and rumbled, “I’m feeling blessed by the Gods today. You shall come wash up with me in my chambers, littlest bride.”

Tyanna was gone.

Visenya called down once more, “Splendid. Let’s hope the seed takes, girl.”

Maegor proudly carried you through the underbelly and up to his quarters in the red keep, showing your mottled, blood soaked body off. You went to somewhere quieter in your mind. A seaside cliff. Salty air. Seals barking. Home.

#hotd fanfic #maegor x reader #hotd smut #Maegor targaryen smut

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captain039 · 7 months

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PART 3 Intertwined with a mortal

Ascended Vampire Duke!Astarion x human!reader

Bridgerton x Astarion 👍🏻

Warnings: Olden times, swearing, age gap, tension, slow burn, vampire Mates, vampire things, angst, sexual, harassment, bigger reader, fat shaming, 18+, angst, Astarions trauma, anxiety, depression, learning to touch and love, big dislike for children lmao, AOB, artist reader, manipulation

Previous part <-

Gods you may be going insane, your dreams were so sinful it would make the faithful cry. You danced with him twice and now he’s in your dreams caressing your body and sending you waves of pleasure you didn’t know was possible. Your books didn’t help either, you always snuck a lewd book in your bag from the library when your mother would go, now you were reading with the duke in mind and yourself as the main character. You thought a nice day of painting would send your thoughts away till you began sketching his face in your book. You’d slammed the thing shut and threw it with wide eyes and a pounding heart, gods what was wrong with you.

The third party of the season had arrived you wore a light blush coloured dress, a fan to match in your hand, it was a warm night. You found Jen easily enough and then Karlach joined as you all began talking and smiling. You enjoyed being in their company, having not seen them in a while due to their own life challenges. What shocked you though was the duke Ravengard coming up to you to sign your dance card with a charming smile. It left you confused as Karlach nudged you with a giggle. After the duke signed a total of five more potential suitors signed and you were left baffled and staring at the names. Problem was, you didn’t feel excitement, you felt dread and a horrid churn in your stomach. You found yourself scanning the crowd too often hoping to see a familiar white haired elf ready to sweep you to the dance floor. When the dancing started though your heart dropped and you realised he wasn’t coming. You shook those thoughts quickly though, gods you didn’t even like the pale elf why were your thoughts all about him. As you started your dance with a young beta named Kye, blond curly hair and pale blue eyes, soft flushed cheeks, he was rather adorable, seemed too boyish to be dancing with lady’s. You kept your polite act up as you tried to ignore the churns in your stomach with each touch, you found yourself looking for the elf even more now. His scent wasn’t horrible, he smelt comforting in the ways betas do, you missed the coldness though.

“Are you alright Milady?” The beta asked.

“Yes sorry my lord, just a little distracted, the heat” you chuckled softly giving him your best fake smile you could muster. You danced and danced till alpha Duke Ravengard, you were exhausted and defeated as you didn’t see your pale elf. Your? He wasn’t yours for gods sake. Before the dance started Duke Ravengard was interrupted quickly and you froze and felt your heart jump at Duke Ancunin taking his place quickly. You felt relief flood you as you began the dance with him. You didn’t know what to say, just knew you felt ease where you were. You wanted to comment on his lateness, saying he took his time, how dare he, but you were the one always leaving him afterwards.

“I saw the way you danced with the others” he suddenly said and you frowned he was here the whole time? Bastard.

“Tense, looking around for someone, dare I say for me” he smirked lightly and you flushed.

“You’re wrong Duke Ancunin” you fought.

“Am I?” He chuckled.

“You’re not looking around anymore, you’re at ease in my arms, your scent is calm” it felt like he knew your every secret, had you been so obvious.

“I assure you it is nothing like that” you said trying to keep up an act. You glanced to Karlach and Jen on a certain turn, Karlach gave you a wink while Jen smiled. You looked to your mum next who was probably planning your wedding, honeymoon and next fifty years of your marriage, by the swoon smile she had. As you stood close to the Duke you let out a small sigh, he’d been on your mind all week and now he was finally here. You hated yourself for thinking like that, you’d already swooned over him, you didn’t even know if he was an alpha or beta or omega. Hells you didn’t even know if he was looking for marriage. Your face must’ve shown your emotions, because the Duke spoke up.

“What’s got you deep in angry thought” he teased with a chuckle.

“A lady is allowed her secrets and thoughts” you said curtly making him grin.

“Of course she is, however you’re scrunching that beautiful face so hard it must be bothersome” he commented and you felt your cheeks go hot. You cursed him silently and his piercing red eyes as the song ended and you bowed your head. Gods you needed air.

After five dances you were feeling lightheaded, two betas two alphas and the pale elf Duke. You hadn’t felt any connection with the other dancers, your heart didn’t thump loudly in your chest with desire. You sighed leaning against the cold railing, you didn’t want to go to anymore of these, maybe you could just slip away. You glanced back into the party your mother chatting happily with some other older lady’s. you glanced around to the guards seeing them unaware of your existence. You hurried to the garden swiftly dodging any eyes or lights before you found silence. You sighed debating if you could lie on the fresh grass, best not ruin the dress. You sat down in the bench instead finally alone with your thoughts.

“You always run off, little pup”

Or not.

You looked up seeing the duke you just danced with, did he follow you? You’re sure you were sneaky. You stood up out of nerves as he smiled at you.

“You shouldn’t be out here” you stated.

“Neither should you” he said back and you cursed silently. This was wrong, being alone with a man at such a time like this.

“Please be clear with me Duke Ancunin” you said and he frowned giving you his attention again.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Why’re you dancing with me? Why did you push Duke Ravengard aside? You’re not known for wanting marriage, and Duke Ravengard is a respectful alpha-“ before you could finish the duke was in front of you quickly hand holding your throat gently making your heart stop.

“Respectful he may be, but, you feel nothing towards him” he said low his eyes burning into yours.

“Marriage isn’t for love” you muttered sadly, but nervously.

“Or feelings” you added your hand holding his wrist. He didn’t choke you, just held you in place as he stared at you.

“No, but you feel this” he said quietly and leant forward. Your eyes closed without thought thinking he’d strangle you, instead cold lips pressed against yours and you gasped. You felt a noise leave your throat as his hand moved to cup your cheek and jaw tugging you closer.

“How I burn in your mind” he whispered kissing your jaw and tilting your head.

“Your thoughts are clouded with nothing but, me” his lips ghosted over your neck making you shudder in delight. You felt overly sharp teeth scrap your neck and felt your heart jump before he lifted his head again.

“You didn’t answer me” you said breathlessly as he smirked.

“This doesn’t mean anything” you added though your mind screamed at you.

“Doesn’t it?” He asked head tilted slightly, white curls blowing in the breeze that passed.

“Gods why’re you here? If someone saw us” your mind began to panic as your eyes rapidly darted around.

“Omega, calm down” his voice held authority as you looked back to him and steadied your breathing breathing in his scent. You pulled away from him and he frowned as you shook your head.

“If this is a game, stop, please” you begged jaw clenching as you held back tears.

“I need to find a husband, before it’s too late” you said surprising even yourself as you quickly left back to the party.

Astarion stared at the spot you were just in, his dead heart would be jumping if it could. You weren’t scared when he held your throat, slight nerves, but you trusted him without even realising it. He’d watched you the whole way through the hall his hands clenched in white knuckled fists as he watched those other men throw you around in what they called dancing. He felt your nerves, your discomfort, smelt your sour scent from here. When Duke Ravengard approached he couldn’t handle it, he took over, felt your relief and that sweet omega scent of yours went back to normal as you began to dance. He’d been late from needing to feed, his body already on edge from the killing, a simple low life nobody would miss now whisked into nothingness. It was stale and horrid, nothing to what your sweet blood would taste like. He found himself unbalanced and wanting more, you dancing in his arms was what it was meant to be, not other school boys barley out of their training diapers. You needed an alpha, someone able to take care of you. With his confliction he had no rank, though the way your body reacted to him suggest that perhaps in his past life he was an alpha destined. He was toying with you, till now, now he felt raw need, raw need for your body and soul to be his, devil strike any hand that lay upon you again.

Next part ->

Also

GUIIRRRLLL DINNNEERRR

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #x reader #aob #duke astarion #Bridgerton inspired #au #vampires #Karlach #Shadowheart

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myhairpintrigger · 4 months

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Grieving for the Living (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader) Part 5

The entirety of a capricious and treacherous marriage between the Darkling and the Lantsov princess.

read previous parts here!! part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

hi just popping in to say i love u guys always and longer. thank u for 400 followers, i could just kiss all of you!

word count: 8.5k

warnings: everything is cannon typical. unhealthy relationship dynamics are ahead, too.

taglist: @il0vebeingdelulu @mellowarcadefun @budugu @eir964 @arwensloanebarnes @marytvirgin @chaoticcoffeequeen @claire-loves-music

“I had a dress made for you.”

This was the first time your mother had directly spoken to you since you left Os Alta. She stood in the doorway of your room holding a large white box and she smiled at you.

It wasn’t a pleasant smile by any means. It was one of ambivalence and nervousness. You had half a mind to hiss at her like a cat to see her go running down the hall, but you didn’t.

Instead, you mirrored her smile and you set your book down upon your lap. You sat in the far corner of your room on an overly cushioned chair, legs crossed stiffly in front of you.

“I didn’t expect that. I just planned on wearing one of my old ones to the party.” You hummed and folded your arms over your chest.

Your mother, as vain as ever, had insisted on an engagement party for Nikolai and Alina, even whilst you were in hiding. You thought it to be in poor taste that a social outing was all she could think of in a time like this, but you truthfully didn’t expect much else of her, either.

“Yes, well, we have to look our best, don’t we? It’s really a lovely dress. It’s lilac, with lots of pearls. You love pearls.” Your mother said with a proud smile.

You eyed her and sent her back a half smile of your own. In the months she’d spent without Genya Safin tailoring her, it seemed she had aged years and years. Her skin was thin and wrinkled like old parchment and there were little spots on the backs of her hands. Her eyes seemed to have sunken in a bit, as well, and her hair was greying rapidly, losing the blonde that Genya had so often given her.

“You’re right. I do love pearls.” You replied emptily and slowly rose from the chair.

You strode towards your mother and you noticed that when you were within a few feet of her, she took a couple steps back as if you were going to attack her. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

You reached out and lifted the lid from the box on your bed and you dropped it aside so that you could pull out the dress. It was a big, heavy piece of clothing, and just when you thought you’d gotten it all out of the box, it kept coming. Finally once you’d pulled the entire gown out of the box, you pushed the box aside and it clattered on your floor. You laid the dress out on your bed and examined it.

It really was a lovely dress. It was nearly as big as your wedding gown, which had been ridiculously large. The skirt was a lovely shade of lilac with swirls and designs embroidered into the shimmering fabric, embellished with little pearls. The bodice must have been what weighed the dress down so drastically, because it was an intricate piece of work. Pearls and other beads were sewn into the fabric so densely that you could hardly see the purple fabric underneath it, and the sleeves were two dainty little cuffs that would surely rest just off of your shoulders.

You turned to look at your mother and you blinked a few times.

“You had this made for me?” You asked incredulously, gaping over at her, “I’m shocked you would give me the time of day.”

Your mother looked a bit guilty and then she shrugged, “Well, it was not my idea, to be honest. It was Nikolai’s. But I was the one that told them which color to use. And to use pearls! Because you love them.”

You gave her a weak smile and then you turned towards her completely. Perhaps this was an olive branch. The beginnings of a bridge that would bring you back into your family’s good graces.

“Thank you, Mother. Why don’t we go have some tea? Or take a small walk? We still have almost an hour before we have to get ready for the party, and I-“

Your mother’s face became pinched, as if she’d eaten a sour fruit and she held her hand up to silence you.

“I’m afraid I must decline, and it’s for the best. I’m sure I’ll see you at the party and have my fill of you for the day there.” She said primly and then nodded to the dress, “Anyway, thank Nikolai for that.” She said airily before she gave you a nod and quickly scurried out of your bedroom.

You pursed your lips at the interaction and you moved to close the door behind her. Once it was closed, you turned back to look at the dress on your bed. You stared down at it with an apoplectic sneer and you let out a little scoff.

You had half a mind to wear one of your black dresses, just to see what she’d do about it. She’d probably faint and claim that your mind had been completely possessed by the Darkling. You snorted humorlessly and then shook the idea from your head- no matter how appealing.

A knock sounded at your door and you almost groaned, the desire to be alone consuming you rapidly. You shuffled over to the door listlessly and opened it up to see Nikolai standing in your doorway with a big grin on his lips. He shouldered past you and walked into your bedroom and he let out a low whistle.

“I see Mother has brought your dress to you. Isn’t it nice?” He asked and looked down at it, examining the gown with an approving nod.

“It’s pretty. I didn’t expect it.” You answered and watched your brother while he studied the dress.

“Well, I had her have her seamstress throw something nice together for you. Honestly, with any luck, you’ll completely upstage her. I’d like to see that.” He said and turned towards you, the same grin still on his lips.

You stared back at him and then shrugged, “She might behead me if I did that.”

Nikolai waved his hand dismissively and then he clicked his tongue.

“Try as she might, I do believe you’ve always upstaged her. Even when you were much younger.” He replied and sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Don’t tell her that.” You mumbled and sat down on the edge of the bed right next to Nikolai.

Nikolai reached over and gently patted your shoulder and he let out a long sigh.

“Listen, I know you’ve not been very happy these last few weeks. I won’t pretend to know exactly why but I have theorized a bit,” he began and then he folded his hands in his lap, “I worry about you often. I know things have been difficult for you, but I’m here for you. And you know, if there’s anything I can do for you, I’m always willing to do it. You’re my little sister, you’ve been my best friend since you could walk. I’ll protect you at any cost.” Nikolai finished and then he turned to look at you with a small smile.

You looked up at him and you let out a little sigh, giving him a slight nod.

“Yeah. I know. And I appreciate it. I appreciate you. Everything is just so… loud, right now. Can’t have a moment of peace, not even when it’s silent.” You murmured, sounding distant in your own ears.

“Peace isn’t really obtainable. At least, in my experience. But finding comfort in the midst of unrest may be the closest thing to it.”

You wondered what your brother meant by that. Nikolai spoke two languages; one being charming sarcasm, and the other being riddles. It was always one or the other. This seemed to be another one of his metaphor ridden riddles.

“Nothing in life is really easy. Happiness doesn’t come easily and neither does comfort. You’re going to lose things, you’re going to get hurt, you’re going to have to make hard decisions and even harder sacrifices, but no matter how hard it gets, you must keep writing your story. You might be miserable doing it and you might feel like you’re fighting a losing war, but whatever. Life goes on.” He finished and then he gave you another smile. A soft, genuine smile.

You returned his smile, even if you didn’t really mean it.

“Life goes on.” You repeated and he beamed, patting your knee a couple of times.

“Indeed it does, little sister.” He said and rose from the edge of your bed.

“Why don’t you start getting ready for the party?” He suggested and then strode towards your door. He stopped in the doorway though and looked over his shoulder at you.

“I mean it, y/n. Life goes on.”

As he left your room, you felt a frown cover your face.

You weren’t so sure he was right.

When you strode into the party, you were already nearly an hour late. Your dress was heavy and it took you and one of your mother’s servants nearly twenty minutes to get it on. Every moment you were late after that was your own fault. You didn’t relish the idea of a party and you didn’t want to be seen by people.

But of course, eyes would wander and they did.

When you walked into the large room, chatter seemed to quiet. Not entirely, but enough to make an indication that something was happening, causing heads to turn towards you.

You squared your shoulders and walked straight into the crowded room, not sparing any of the staring guests a second- or first- glance. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of your curiosity.

The very small train of your gown dragged rhythmically behind you as you walked through the crowd and shoulders past a few bystanders who didn’t have the mind to move out of the way for you. You set your sights on Nikolai who stood with Vasily and your mother and you walked towards them. You pressed your lips together and did your best to make your expression as stoic and impassive as possible.

Nikolai was the first to look up at you, and a warm smile covered his face. Vasily looked up at you next and then finally, so did your mother. She regarded you the same way you would regard a particularly sour piece of fruit- with a pinched expression and a particular distaste.

As you approached them, your eyes traveled over your mother. She looked… aged. Life without a Tailor hadn’t been treating her well. You’d remembered her being so beautiful when you were a child. None of that beauty remained. You wondered if it was simply age that had made her seem so displeasing to look at or if it was the way she had been acting towards you. Whatever it was, it hardly bothered you.

“There she is! I was wondering when you’d come down!” Nikolai beamed and he plucked a glass of champagne off of a tray carried by a passing waiter and he passed the dainty cup to you.

You took the glass from his hands gratefully and you took a small sip before you cleared your throat and glanced at your mother through your periphery. She was still staring you down.

“I was under the impression this was to be a small affair.” You remarked airily.

Nikolai seemed to think the same thing as you because he nodded and looked around the room with a small bit of disdain on his face.

“Yes, my thoughts exactly. How many guests did you invite?” He asked, his fingers tapping at his palms.

Your mother gave a passive, smug smile and she shrugged, “Vasily got a little overzealous with the invites,” she started and then glanced at your eldest brother, “Now, I don’t entirely agree with your Caryeva set, but I admit, that sort lends a certain air of festivity.” She praised idly, giving Vasily an approving smile.

You scoffed, and you swore you heard Nikolai do the same, but much quieter.

There was a moment of silence amongst the four of you, and you looked around at each member of your family. Your mother looked at ease, Vasily seemed a bit drunk, and Nikolai’s brow creased with worry. You frowned.

“Nik, what’s the matter?” you asked, taking a step closer to him.

“He’s revealed our location to the gamblers and freeloaders he calls friends.” He snapped and then looked at Vasily with an incredulous annoyance.

Vasily looked at Nikolai through his drunkenly heavy eyes and he sneered a bit.

“That’s rich coming from a pirate.” He remarked, his words slurring ever so slightly, “you make yourself ridicul-“

“The Darkling lives!” Nikolai shot back, cutting Vasily off.

Your mother placed a dramatic hand over her chest and then she eyed you suspiciously. You rolled your eyes.

“We are at great risk if our location is compromised! You’d sacrifice us all for your pride and stupidity.” Nikolai continued, his eyes meeting yours.

“You overreach, you little bastard.” Vasily slurred back, and he clapped a clumsy hand on Nikolai’s shoulder before he turned to face the majority of the crowd, “A toast!” He announced, cockily, before marching off to the front of the room.

Your mother placed her hand on Nikolai’s arm and gave him a small, apologetic smile before she caught your eye. When your gaze met hers, her smile melted away and all that was left on her face was a resonant disgust.

You brushed off her glare. You were done feeling sorry for yourself over things you couldn’t possibly control, your mother’s disdain being one of those things. What were you trying to prove anymore? And to whom were you trying to prove anything to? If your mother wanted to scorn you, then you could scorn her right back. You smoothed down your dress and gave her a saccharine smile.

“Mother, isn’t it too bad that Genya Safin isn’t here? You are in dire need of refreshment.” You cooed. Her brows furrowed together, but you would never know what she would have said, because Vasily boisterously began his toast.

“I’d like to share some words about my brother,” he began and motioned towards the three of you, “Nikolai!” He crooned and then took a sip of his wine, “Yes, yes, we all know he’s pretentious… condescending… a man of the people. But!” Vasily remarked and you glanced at Nikolai who rolled his eyes warily.

He glanced at the table of drinks in the corner and then back at you, giving you a small nod towards the table, mouthing ‘let’s go’. You took a few steps towards him while Vasily droned on.

“He has some hidden qualities, too. His intended should-“

Just as you took your final step towards Nikolai, the sound of shattering glass turned your attention up to the ceiling. The entire domed skylight had collapsed, and thick, smoky tendrils of shadow invaded the room at a rapid pace. As soon as they crashed into the ground, they shifted into humanoid forms. They had no eyes, but mouths with rows of serrated, crooked teeth, and they rushed forth and began to attack everyone in their path.

Glass fell from the crumbling remains of the skylight above your head and bits of it rained down into your hair. You shook your head rapidly and looked at Nikolai, bewildered. Nikolai looked back at you and he grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him, along with your mother. Gunfire and screams were the only things you could hear besides the occasional snarl from the shadow creatures. Guards were attempting to shoot at the creatures, but the bullets went right through them. The creatures knocked over tables and sent partygoers flying through the air as they moved around the room. Across the room, you saw Vasily dive behind an overturned table and you grasped onto Nikolai’s shoulder.

“What is this?” You asked, in a panic. You feared you already knew the answer.

“They must be the nichevo'ya David spoke of. Which means the Darkling must be close by.” Nikolai said sharply, keeping his hand on your arm protectively. You felt faint and you grasped his shoulder tightly to keep from stumbling.

“Nikolai-“

“We have to get out of here. Most importantly- we have to get you and Alina out of here.” He stated and you looked to the opposite side of the room. Alina and a few of her Grisha all stood behind a table that rested on its side, and all of them were doing what they could to fend off the nichevo'ya.

Gunfire still rang out around you and Nikolai spun around to look at you, his face pale.

“Run. Go. Right now. Get out of here. Grab a horse if you must but get out of here. I will find you, I swear it, but get out now. Before the Darkling comes.” Nikolai ordered and you gave him a clumsy nod before you grabbed the skirts of your gown and darted out from behind your brother. You ran along the wall, away from the creatures and the crowd and you had nearly made it to the door when a nichevo'ya materialized in front of you.

Your eyes widened and before you could scream, the creature lunged at you. You held your arms up defensively and waited for a blow that never came. You wondered if you had died for a split second, but you still heard screams around you. You slowly lowered your arms to see the creature standing in front of you, unmoving. If it had eyes, they would have been fixed on you as you stood before it. You took one step away from it, to gauge whether or not it would stop you, and when it didn’t, you turned on your heel and ran straight out into the hall. You dashed down corridors and around corners before you came to the front doors. You pushed them open ferociously and you barreled out the door, only to come to a skidding halt.

The grounds were surrounded by Grisha in their brightly colored keftas. You looked at them cautiously, only to realize that you didn’t recognize a single one of them.

Confused, you watched them all take slow steps closer and closer. They all looked fierce and determined as they moved in on the building you stood in front of, and it took you longer than you cared to admit to realize that these were Aleksander’s Grisha.

Before you could even turn to run back inside, they parted down the middle and through the crowd strode the man who had played on your mind every single day for the past months on end.

You stood, frozen in place. You wanted to run, but where could you run to? If you ran inside, you risked death by nichevo'ya, but if you ran anywhere out here, one of the surrounding Grisha would easily stop you. You were trapped.

He walked towards you with determination and as he got closer you could make out his facial features. His hair was the same; dark and gracefully pushed away from his face. His eyes were the same, too, so dark that they could pass for black. But there was something different about his face now. On the flawless pale skin of his lovely face sat three, thin, ink black scars that ran down his face at an angle.

From the volcra, you realized, and took a step back as he approached you.

You tried to stand tall and strong against him, but the second he came within three feet of you, you scurried backwards and held your hand out to stop him.

“Don’t come any closer.” You forced out, not pleased with how shaky your voice had become.

He didn’t listen.

He stepped closer and grabbed your wrist, moving your hand back down to your side. A beautiful, longing smile grew upon his face, as if he had just returned home from the longest of wars and he dropped your wrist, instead taking your chin in his hand.

“My beautiful wife.” He breathed, staring down at you. You pulled away from him and you shook your head.

“No. I am no longer your wife.” You spat, backing up against the closed doors behind you.

For every step you took away from Aleksander, he took one towards you, until you were trapped between him and the door.

“How curious, then, that you still wear your ring.” He murmured and looked down at your hand.

You swallowed hard and looked up at him, fear seizing you with a thousand hands.

“Don’t look at me like that. I am not here to hurt you, my love. I’m here to collect what’s been taken from me.” He cooed and reached out to brush his fingertips across your jaw.

His touch was so gentle; so loving, and you nearly found yourself instinctively leaning into it. It took all of your willpower to keep your head straight.

“And what might that be?” You demanded, clasping your hands behind your back.

He gave you another smile, but this smile was akin to one that you’d give a child after they said something completely outlandish and silly.

“You, of course. And the Sun Summoner.” He answered, moving his hand away from your face, reluctantly.

You snorted and stared up into his eyes challengingly, “I’m not an object to be collected.” You retorted and grasped the door handles behind your back. Perhaps if you could get back inside, you could find another way out. Another way away from him.

As if he expected this from you, he reached out and grabbed onto your wrists and pulled them in front of you, holding them in a tight grip.

“No, of course not. But I have so missed you, and despite what you may say, I think you’ve missed me as well, little Princess.” He murmured and then leaned down to kiss your forehead, keeping your wrists in his grip.

“I will not go. I will never follow you again.” You stated, shaking your head a few times.

His hands were freezing cold against your skin and the even colder metal of his own wedding ring made you want to shiver.

“I was afraid you’d say something like that.” He sighed, shaking his head as if he were dealing with a petulant child.

He turned around and nodded to one of the Grisha behind him, and a man quickly made his way up to the two of you. He wore a bright red kefta and a stony expression. Aleksander looked at you with regret in his dark eyes and then he shook his head once.

“Let me go, at once.” You whispered and tried to pull away from him.

“You can come with me willingly or my Heartrender can put you to sleep and make you come with me. I would prefer willingly, my love.” He said softly, brushing his thumbs back and forth across your wrists as he held them.

You shook your head.

“I already told you I won’t be coming with you.” You said sternly, staring back into his eyes challengingly.

He let out a sigh and leaned forward to kiss your cheek once before he dropped your wrists and nodded at his Heartrender.

“Then I suppose you’ll make me do this the hard way. I’ll see you when you wake, my dear.” He said, as if it pained him so.

You moved to grab the door again, but before you could, the Heartrender at your husband’s side raised his hands and suddenly you could only see black.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. You had been slipping in and out of consciousness, though. Unless you had been dreaming. Sometimes you’d see people over you, other times you’d hear muffled conversations, but nothing was clear.

When you were finally awoken, it was slow. You felt your body waking up first, and your muscles felt stiff and unused. You became vaguely aware of the feeling of fingertips, brushing comfortingly across your face, over your cheekbones, across your jaw, along the bridge of your nose. The action was calming, and you felt blissful, as if you were waking from a peaceful nap.

Only when you opened your eyes, did reality strike you, hard and fast. There was hardly any light in the room you were in. It was dark and it was a bit cold, but you noticed there was a blanket covering you to your shoulders. You laid upon a bed that felt like it had hardly been slept in, and you flickered your gaze over to the side. There Aleksander sat, on the edge of the bed. His calloused fingers were still moving affectionately over your face and a small smile formed on his scarred face. You stared up at him, unable to find words to express your newfound disgust.

“There she is. There’s my lovely girl.” He purred and he brushed his thumb across your bottom lip before pulling his hand away from your face with a reluctance that you had never seen him use, “I’ve so missed your voice, little love.”

You stared up at him, silent. There was the faint sound of conversation out in the hallway and there were hurried footsteps, and it was the only noise that floated around the two of you for a long time. Your eyes traveled his face. His once perfect skin was now marred with three, black scars. If it wasn’t for the skin that was raised around them, you would’ve thought them to be drawn on. His hair was swept back as always, and he, of course, was dressed in all black. You examined his scars once more and told yourself you were glad he had to suffer, but you were ashamed to feel little aches of sympathy in your chest at the sight of where he had been wounded.

“Feeling shy, I see.” He commented and then reached down to brush a bit of hair away from your forehead.

“Not shy,” You found your voice, staring up at him, “I have nothing to say to you.”

He clicked his tongue with a sharp tsk, “I saved you from certain death and persecution and you’re angry with me? Oh, my love, see sense.” He breathed.

You slowly sat up, your joints popping and cracking as if you hadn’t moved in years. As much as you hated it, he was still absolutely breathtaking. You’d secretly hoped that the volcra would’ve mauled him beyond repair, but you had no such luck. He still stared at you with those beautiful, dark eyes, and you shifted uncomfortably.

“I do see sense, and that’s why I have nothing to say to you.” You whispered, shaking your head.

“Perhaps you’re just a bit embarrassed.”

You scoffed.

“Embarrassed by what, Aleksander?”

He smiled. He seemed to relish his name leaving your mouth and you made a mental note not to use it further to deprive him of such satisfaction.

“Embarrassed that I was right and you were wrong. What did I tell you, little love? I warned you that you would return home to hatred. Did I not?” He asked and gazed over at you, his hands resting on his thighs.

You looked down at his hands. There was a large, black crater of a scar on the back of his hand and you wondered what had happened there. The veins around this scar were all black, looking poisonous under the skin. You fought back a chill.

You never answered him, but he let out a soft sigh and he reached out to gently take your chin in his hand. You pulled away and turned your head away from him entirely.

“Poor girl. You’ve finally had your first taste of persecution. Tell me, how does it feel?” He asked and reached out to grab your chin again. He turned your head towards him carefully and he stared into your eyes, “How lonely has it been? To lose everyone you thought loved you because of their fear? Their judgment?“ he asked.

You dared to look him in the eyes finally and you wished you hadn’t. Despite his words, his eyes were uncharacteristically soft. He looked at you as if you were something he cherished, something he loved endlessly. You wondered if he was capable of faking that. There was a desperate trace of longing in his gaze and you watched his lips twitch downwards just slightly, a change so subtle that if you were anyone else, you may have missed it.

“It doesn’t matter.” You finally answered, dropping your gaze away from his.

He let out a sigh and let go of your chin before he reached out and grasped your hands. His skin was just as cold as you had remembered it to be, if not colder now. You wondered if he felt the icy chill that was his skin.

“If you had just stayed by my side, you would’ve never felt lonely. I wouldn’t have let you. Not a single day would have gone by where you felt anything less than loved. Adored. Worshiped, even.” He whispered, looking down at your joined hands. Of course you knew that.

You looked down at your hands, too.

There was such a stark contrast when you looked down. His hands were scarred and they were strong, with traces of black swimming in the veins just beneath his fair skin. He wore his wedding ring on his finger still, but on the correct finger, whereas you wore yours on your middle finger where it was ill fitting. Your hands were smaller than his, and your skin was unmarked by scars; smooth. You had the hands of someone whose life had been easy. He dropped your hands and he plucked your ring right off of your middle finger before sliding it onto the correct finger, and although you felt you should have, you didn’t stop him and made no move to correct it once he let go.

You kept your eyes on your hands and he slowly stood up from the bed and let out a small sigh.

“You can live in denial, but not forever. You’ll find it’ll be far easier if you let me in rather than fight me.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on top of your head, “For what it’s worth, I’ve missed you, in every way a person can be missed. I’ve missed your presence in the mornings, I’ve missed your smile, your laugh, even your attitude I’ve found myself missing. I know that deep down, you’ve missed me too. Otherwise you would have rid yourself of that ring long ago.” He observed and then he placed his hand on top of your head, smoothing your hair back.

“You don’t hate me, you’ve just had your mind filled with the lies of martyrs. You weren’t meant to be a martyr, y/n. You weren’t meant to sacrifice your happiness just because it was the ‘righteous’ thing to do. You were meant to be a queen. Deny that as you may, but I know it to be true, and perhaps somewhere in that pretty little head of yours, you do too.”

He knelt down at the side of the bed and looked up at you with a soft, understanding smile. He seemed so pleased to be looking at you.

“I do love you. I will never turn you away. When you’re ready to accept that, I will be here with open arms.” He murmured and placed his hands on his knees as he looked up at you.

You stared down at him and you shook your head slowly.

“And what if I never do?”

He smiled, but didn’t say anything. He rose up from his knees and he wandered across the room towards the door. He opened it up and paused before walking out into the hall.

“I’m a patient man. The word ‘never’ is so wasted on such a mortal girl. You’ll change your mind, and when you do, I’ll be there.” He said softly before exiting the room, leaving you alone in the dark, his words sending a chill through you that you couldn’t get rid of, no matter how far under the blankets you slid.

You had been given free rein of the strange little sanctuary that the Grisha siding with Aleksander had thrown together. It wasn’t very interesting, by any means, and your days passed slowly. Very, very slowly.

You had yet to see anyone that you knew, though. You recognized a few faces from the Little Palace, but beyond that, it seemed like everyone you knew had either died or taken to the other side. With no David or Genya, or even Ivan around to entertain you, you’d taken to making the acquaintance of an Alkemi boy named Vladim.

Vladim couldn’t have been very old, perhaps nineteen at the most. He was always tirelessly working on little things in his makeshift laboratory, but when you asked about them, he always answered you the same.

“I don’t think you’d have much understanding of the subject matter, and alas, I don’t think the Darkling would be very pleased if I discussed it with you.” He would say, almost word for word, every time.

He wasn’t overly friendly, but you could tell that he appreciated the company in one way or another.

You had done your best to avoid Aleksander during the day, and you were usually quite successful in that endeavor, but you couldn’t avoid him at night. He didn’t give you your own room, he simply told you that you’d share his and left it at that. Arguing with him would’ve been futile. His skirmish with the Fold and with his newfound shadow warriors left him with a certain roughness that you’d never known him to have before. There was a certain ruggedness to him now, a certain edge that made the hair at the back of your neck stand up. He had always been hungry for power, but now he was ruthless. He had always commanded respect, but now he forced it. He seemed to be slipping into madness, slowly. He used to be a sharp, shining sword, cutting fast and without much pain. Now he was like a worn, serrated knife. It worried you, but you tried to push that down as far as you could. You shouldn’t worry about him. Let him destroy himself, it wasn’t your problem.

So why did it feel like it was your problem?

You tried to remind yourself daily that his destruction wasn’t your responsibility and that he was bringing it upon himself, but it became increasingly harder and harder to remember that.

Every night ended the same, though.

You’d lay in his bed, as far onto your side as you could possibly get, and you’d always pretend to be asleep when he finally came in. He’d shuffle around the room silently for a while, getting himself ready for bed, and then he’d lay down on his side of the bed. Like clockwork, ten minutes later, he would move towards you as if he were being pulled by strings like a puppet and he’d wrap you in his arms. He would whisper promises to keep you safe in your ear and he would run his fingers through your hair. Murmurs of proclamations of love would also be uttered into your ear, and he would whisper your name as if it were scripture.

You wondered if he knew that you weren’t really asleep, which led you to wonder if he even cared.

He would oftentimes press his lips to your temple and stay there for a long time before pulling away. Some nights you would really end up falling asleep in his arms, and other nights you would stay awake and he would eventually let you go and he’d tuck the blankets around your body, just as you liked them. It took you by surprise the first time he did that, because you didn’t expect him to remember such small details.

Tonight was seemingly not much different than the other nights. His arms were circled around your waist and he had his chin resting on top of your head. He had fallen completely silent and had been for quite a while now, his tender whispers ceasing quite some time ago. You knew better than to believe he had fallen asleep, though. You could see it in his face daily- he didn’t get much sleep. Not anymore. You frowned slightly at the thought and you nearly shook your head, catching yourself at the last second.

“I’m not a fool enough to believe that you are asleep right now, my love.” His voice was low and you felt his arms tighten around you ever so slightly.

You didn’t say anything, but you opened your eyes and pursed your lips, biting anxiously at the inside of your cheek.

“I know perhaps you take me for a fool, though. Maybe you’re right to. I’ve been foolish with you. Lied to you. Treated you like you were a pawn. If I’m being honest with myself and you, though, I should admit that earning your love was my greatest achievement. I don’t think I’ve lost it, not fully, at least, but perhaps my greatest loss has been making you question that love that you had so graciously given me.” He spoke, his voice taking on a strange and sentimental tone. He seemed to think for a moment before he tapped your waist with his thumb, “Have I?”

You blinked a few times, not bothering to look up at his face. You doubted you would’ve seen it, anyway. The room was pitch black.

“Have you, what?” You finally replied, hands balling into fists as you pressed your nails into your palms.

“Lost your love?”

Your brows knitted together and you frowned, “Yes,” you answered immediately, but you were immediately struck with the pain of guilt in your chest and you suddenly shook your head, “I mean, no. No, I don’t think so.” You choked out, “I don’t think you could. Not entirely, and I hate you for that.”

The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them, though you weren’t sure what you regretted more; admitting that you still loved him or admitting that you held contempt towards him for the way you felt. The admission left a sour taste in your mouth, yet you felt as if a hundred weights had been lifted off of your chest. The relief juxtaposed with the sour taste of shame on your tongue was jarring and you pressed your lips together as tightly as you could, as if to create some kind of seal that would prevent you from speaking further.

He seemed to mull this answer over for a while, staying silent for more than just a few moments. You could picture his eyes, even though you weren’t actively looking into them. When he was lost in thought, they seemed even deeper than they already were, and oftentimes you felt that was an impossible feat.

Finally, he spoke.

“I can understand your hatred for the inner conflict you must be faced with. I haven’t exactly made this easy for you.” He replied, his voice calm and completely even, “If I could stop this all right now, I would. But I can’t, y/n. No one is going to look out for the Grisha except for me. Not even Alina Starkov.”

“You don’t know that if you never give her the opportunity to try, Aleksander.” You insisted, voice barely above a whisper.

“No, but I do. I do know that. She’s too young. She knows nothing of the power she wields and she knows not how to use it, she couldn’t even begin to grasp the importance of power. It’s simply a new toy to her. Something to play with until she tires of the novelty,” his hand traveled along your back as he held you and you felt him take a silent inhale, “I find myself wishing so often that it was you.” He murmured, lips finding your ear.

You didn’t understand what he meant, so you furrowed your brow together and you shook your head.

“What do you mean?”

His lips hovered over your ear and you felt the tip of his nose in your hair, sending unwanted shivers down your arms and over the back of your neck.

“I would give anything, anything, if it meant you could’ve been my Sun Summoner.” He whispered, his arms tightening around you frantically, as if he were afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t keep you close. And perhaps you might.

You weren’t sure what to say. You weren’t even sure how to feel. You had always compared yourself to Alina in one way or another during her time at the Little Palace, though you’d never wished her gift upon yourself. You had never even thought to. His words made you feel cold in the very pit of your stomach and you bit down on the inside of your cheek sharply. Alina and Aleksander would go on to make history. They would make legends. The Sun Summoner and the Shadow Summoner. The Sun Saint and the Darkling. In a hundred years, people would pray to beautiful statues of Sankta Alina, Aleksander would be written into Grisha history and Ravkan legend. But in a hundred years for you? You’d be a name on the Lantsov family tree. Always royal, never reigning. Perhaps someone distantly related to you a hundred years from now would make a pitied remark about how Queen Tatiana and King Pyotr the Third married their poor daughter off to some wicked man, but no one could ever confirm it. It was simply oral history. You would be lost to time, whereas time would be lost on them. They’d be living their second lifetime and you would be nothing but bone buried deep in the dirt. You squeezed your eyes shut at the thought and instead of speaking, you shook your head.

You felt his hand slide up your back and over the back of your neck until it was nestled in the hair at the back of your head, holding you securely against his chest.

“Not because I wish you were Alina, no. I could never wish for such a thing. I wish it was you that could stand by my side, that it was you that would be my equipollent partner. I wish I didn’t wake at night in a cold sweat at the thought of you being so… mortal. I couldn’t care less if you had the power of the sun at your disposal, I could only care that you lived a hundred years at my side.” He said quietly, his voice quivering at the end of his sentence.

Of course Aleksander had proclaimed his love for you many times before, but he had never done so in such a manner. You had never even seen him cry, never heard his voice falter.

A shaky breath from his lips drew your eyes upwards. You very slowly pulled your head away from his and you looked up at his face. Though the room was dark and only lit up by the faintest of moonbeams filtering through a crack in the curtains, his eyes were still visible, darker than the dark around you, yet still shining as if they had thousands of stars in them. They sparkled with the threat of unshed tears and before you could stop yourself, you were lifting your hand towards his face. The moment your hand made gentle contact with his cheek, a single tear spilled out over his bottom lash line and rolled down his cheek gracefully. You’d never seen a tear fall gracefully before. He brought his own, scarred hand up and laid it on top of yours, holding your warm palm to his cheek. You could feel the raised skin of his scar on your hand and it was such an odd contrast to the smooth skin surrounding the scars.

His eyes slowly closed, but he didn’t let your hand move from his face. His breathing was erratic as if he were trying to hold back cries and he moved as close as he could to you without ending up on top of you.

“Your brother… Alina Starkov… Your mother… Father… none of them can offer you happiness. I can, darling. I can.” He whispered, his voice trembling, and for a moment, he wasn’t the Darkling. He was just a boy named Aleksander who had slowly lost everyone he could have ever cared for.

“But at what cost, Aleksander?” You asked softly, using all of your strength to enforce an armor around your heart. But you had deployed cracked armor.

“I don’t care what the cost is. I’d let a thousand men burn, I’d let armies fall, I’d ruin kingdoms and countries alike, I would kill countless if it meant that you would just stay. With me.” He breathed, another small tear escaping from the corner of his eye.

The sight was a powerful blow to your futile attempt at an armor.

No. He’s killed so many people for the selfish drive for power, and he hides it underneath the guise of what’s best for Grisha. You couldn’t stay.

“I don’t wish to see anyone burn. I don’t want armies to fall and counties to fall to ruin, I don’t want you to dedicate death to keeping me by your side, Aleksander. You made your choice and you chose power. I made mine and I chose the right thing. I can’t stay.” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, though. You or him?

His palm pressed against the back of your hand and he held it tightly against his face.

“You are the only light I’ve ever known, the only salvation I’ve ever been given. I’ve watched lives come and I’ve watched them pass, and I find no grief in it. I’ve spent my fair share of time grieving for those I’ve dared to care for and I’ve condemned it, I’ve sworn to not allow myself the luxury of grief again. So tell me why I’ve spent each day that I’ve loved you grieving for someone who has yet to draw their last breath? I grieve the loss of you that has yet to come. I will choose power day in and day out because I will never stop searching for a way, for a power, that can keep me from losing you.” His voice was weak, but it was determined and it was sincere.

Your mouth fell open just slightly as you listened to him and you very slowly brushed your thumb against the skin underneath his eye.

His eyes slowly flickered open and he stared down at you, his lips set into a frown. The unshed tears in his eyes and the look of terror and sorrow on his face made him seem much more human than you had ever seen him, likely ever.

Right now, he was just a man. A man gifted with too much power and bothered- no, burdened- with the threat of everlasting life. He wasn’t the Darkling and he wasn’t a Shadow Summoner. He was Aleksander, and he was trembling underneath your hand.

“To say that I love you would be so weak and listless, but to find stronger words, I’d have to start making them up. So, at the risk of sounding weak and listless, I love you. To the end of it all, whatever lies beyond that, even.“ he swallowed hard after speaking and you found your own eyes filling with tears. He wasn’t just saying he loved you, he was silently begging you to love him in return.

His actions and his quest for power wasn’t preferable, and you weren’t even sure if it was forgivable. Maybe it wasn’t, you weren’t sure. Could you find it within your heart to forgive him if he had begged you to? You weren’t sure of that, either. You found it strange how many months ago, it was you that was begging him for love, but now he was the one staring into your eyes, pleading without words.

It would hurt a lot to choose him again, because eventually you knew that for whatever high you would be on now, it would be a devastating low one day.

But it would hurt just the same to tear yourself out of your husband’s arms once again, this time after hearing him confess all that he had tonight. How could it be possible to love someone yet despise them all the same? He was always able to make you give in, and you resented him for that, but he also was the only one that understood you now. He understood what a fall from grace felt like, what it was like to have an entire nation turn their backs on you, how it felt to lose the faith of everyone you cared about.

His eyes and his beauty and his soft words always had you making mistakes before now, and you realized that the only way to not make these mistakes was to be far away from him. But you weren’t far away from him right now and you knew that you were bound to make a mistake again, in fact, you were hurtling towards that mistake right now.

A single word rolled off of his lips:

“Stay.”

The answer that begged to leave your mouth was antithetical to the decision you had made to run away from him in the first place and you felt guilty. Guilty for wanting him, guilty for not wanting him. To give him the affirmation he and you both wanted was to betray your country and your family. But they’d already betrayed you. You could almost hear Nikolai telling you that two wrongs didn’t make a right and that you were stronger than this.

But you didn’t think you were. You couldn’t be.

His fingers slid in between yours as he held your hand to his face and his eyes locked onto yours, daring you to give him the one answer he’d been searching for.

So you let it roll off your lips, no louder than an exhale:

“Okay.”

#grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #the darkling imagine #the darkling #the darkling x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

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writingsofwesteros · 2 years

Note

Please do Daemon x niece reader:

she’s viserys and aemma youngest daughter. He left when she was only 7. Then he saw her at his wife’s funeral and he immediately fall for her since she’s the innocent sweet type (maybe he saw comforting his daughters). he manipulates viserys to let him marry her. Perhaps the usual wedding smut and him being obsessed with breeding her then some fluff that ends with her having sons etc..

(let’s pretend he had nothing with rhaenyra)

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

SLIGHT NSFW

Even as his eyes found Rhaenyra; Daemon couldn’t help but pass over the Princess for his true favourite. The service continued in his ear but he was hardly listening. How could he when you were just there. You stood as graciously as ever with your hands clasped behind your back. The black dress hugged your curves perfectly.

Those locks of yours tied in a bun with intricate braids. He wondered how long it was now. His fingers itched to touch it. You only looked ahead as the service continued. You could feel the tension rising as the words of the dead’s uncle carried on. You ducked your head as a familiar laugh reached your ears.

A soft frown of confusion came over you as you looked to the side. Your uncle in plain view and soon his eyes locked with your own. It had been so long since you had last seen him and for a moment; you couldn’t keep your eyes off Daemon. It was only when the grave fell into the water with a loud splash did you look away. Daemon’s smirk didn’t leave his face as he hummed to himself. It seems you were just as fixated on him. He’d keep that piece of information to himself as he slowly moved from the mourning party. Thankfully, his brother was far too ill now to follow him. The Prince only smirked at the ideas moving through his mind.

It seemed luck was on his side as he made his way towards Caraxes. Those eyes of his finding you stood in front of his dragon. His usual fierce dragon was near enough purring as you rested your head on him. “It seems he’s taken a liking to you.” Daemon called out as the wind moved over you both. A soft gasp escaped you as you heard the voice coming from behind. “Daemon..” You gently whispered out. “It’s been years, Princess.” He nearly purred as he slowly moved closer towards you. “It has.” You softly replied; a blush as ever moving over your cheeks as you watched him move closer.

“You have grown beautifully.” Daemon whispered with a soft smile tugging on his lips. Those eyes of his watching you blush. “Years passing by does that.” You whispered when he finally came to a stop in front of you. “Hm, they have been kind to you.” Daemon gently moved to stoke your cheek.

You fought against leaning into his touch but it didn’t last long as you nuzzled into him. “I have missed you.” He whispered to you. “Why haven’t you come back sooner?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Daemon couldn’t possibly tell you the truth. That he would have taken you with him and never returned. Now was the perfect opportunity as he thought of his brother’s weak state and had to conceal his growing smirk. “I was busy. I wanted everything to be perfect.” Daemon whispered without adding anymore to it.

It wasn’t hard for Daemon to whisper in his brother’s ear. “This way I will leave Rhaenyra alone. Forever.” He darkly promised. He knew his brother was quickly worsening and this was his only chance. Viserys was tired. The fractions between his family were only growing but if he could have Daemon on his side; he would do anything.

And so he did. “Yes, you can marry her.” The words fell from Viserys’ mouth without thought and Daemon’s smirk only widened but he gently moved to embrace his brother. “You should rest now, brother.”

The wedding happened as soon as the family arrived back at the capitol. Daemon knew not to push it any closer. His wife had only just died and you were just too easy to pick up. The rogue Prince couldn’t help himself anymore. He had to have you. And so he did. Over and over again you were completely his.

“Daemon..” You moaned so prettily into his ear as he kept you close. Your soft breasts brushing against his muscled chest. His fingers moved through your locks as your lips so lovingly met each other. Soft moans continued to fall from your lips as he rocked; his cock moving deeper inside.

His lips lovingly found yours as he began to nibble on your bottom lip. It was enough to have you gasping out. His tongue moved to dance with your own as your eyes locked onto his. Your fingers tracing down his back. “Good girl.” Daemon whispered down to you before deepening the kiss.

His hips continued to slowly rock as he took his time. Your own stomach was already tightening in pleasure. Your wetness moving down his cock as he hit your soft spot again and again; taking your breath away. His smirk still in place as he nibbled on your plump, bottom lip. “Are you mine?” He purred.

“Always,” You whimpered. Your fingers moving into his hair once more and tugging him closer. Your legs are tightening around his waist. The sound of your wetness echoed around the room as you whined in pleasure. His hot mouth began to kiss down your chest as goosebumps littered your soft skin.

His tongue moved around your pebbled nipple as your soaked walls tightened around his cock. Your pleasure building. Your soft breasts bouncing as you rocked against him; chasing your climax. “Close, lovely girl?” Daemon purred into your ear as your eyes rolled back once more. His cock quickly moved against your spot.

“Yes, please…please..” You babbled out as the new sensation caught you. It wrapped tightly around your body. He hummed and roughly palmed your breasts as your orgasm finally ripped through you. Daemon smirked and bit into your neck as he finally released inside you as you quivered around him.

He’d have you bred in no time, the rogue Prince thought to himself as he slowly pushed inside you once more. Your nails moved down his back as you slowly came to your senses. Your heart is calming now. His lips found yours once more and pressed all his love into the act as you so sweetly giggled.

Only two years later and you had been gifted 2 sons already. Your husband beamed with pride as his hand moved onto your swollen stomach. It was your twin’s first name day and you couldn’t be happier. Your husband’s head rested on your shoulder as he watched the twins move around the garden. “Do you regret anything?” Daemon softly whispered into your ear as his fingers slowly moved through your locks. His hand moved to rest on your lower back now as you turned to look at him. “Of course not.” Your smile only widened as you lost yourself in his eyes. You moved to brush your noses together.

“How could I ever regret anything with you?” You whispered into his ear as you leaned to lovingly capture his lips. It seemed to be all Daemon had ever wanted to hear as his smile brightened and he hummed against your lips. The moment was broken as the boys collided with you both; giggles sounding out once more.

TAGLIST

@heartysworld

@janelongxox

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lettherebrelight

@writerslove2403

@opheliax98

@bshelley322

@casualheartadorable

@kittycatcait219 @lilyviolets

@multifndom @7minutes-tomidnight

@savage-aespa

@kid-from-new-zealand @mypatrochilles @ladystardvsts

@thekayarlene

@sandronebabyy

@ivanna6026

@bubblebuttwade

@rosesinmars

@believeinthefireflies95

@vivalarevolution @my-dark-prince

#daemon targaryen x reader #request

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refiwrites · 2 years

Text

Weddings and Butterflies

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Requested?: Yes.

Summary: After being invited to Christine's wedding, you also come across the person you haven't seen for the longest time.

WC: 2.6k

Warning/s: MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS! fluff, little bit of angst, anxiety mentions lmk if i missed anything

Note: after watching MoM I have fallen harder for this man I swear... feebacks, reblogs and likes are appreciated! let me know what you think!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The door opened with a clicking sound, filling the silence of the empty apartment as you walked in, phone to your ear as you shut the door with the use of your feet.

“....(Y/N), the wedding’s tomorrow, I was wondering if you’d make it- or you’d like to come, it would be nice seeing you again ever since..” Christine spoke through your phone.

You took off your shoes, placing them by the door as you placed your things on the counter.

“Oh, Christine, I’d love to come by, congratulations again, I can’t believe it.” You reply, walking over to the living room. You sat on the soft sofa, getting into a much more comfortable position.

It never felt like time had passed, you even wonder if the rest of the world even remembered some of you.

You stared at the window in front of you that showcased the buildings along with the night sky.

Five minutes. All it took was five minutes and after you were thrown back onto reality again, five years had passed. It took almost a toll on everybody, with all the family and friends they feared are long gone, suddenly popping out of nowhere from when they were stood as the blip happened.

You, luckily enough, were able to lay low for a while, build your life back up again, reconnected with some friends, yet you never thought of reconnecting with the other Avengers.

The dull ache was still there in your heart at the events that occurred. Every once in a while giving you a reminder when you’d wake up in cold sweat.

You blinked as you didn’t register what Christine had said seconds before, “Wait, come again?” You say.

“I said Stephen’s going to be there too. I.. I don’t know if its a right decision to invite him since... well, he agreed, that’s what matters right? And I think he could use a familiar face like yours.”

Stephen. Stephen Strange.

You’ve seen him, you’ve fought alongside him, yet you never once remembered talking to him. He was going to be there.

You knew of their relationship before, but after the blip it seemed like things have gotten worse for him, or so you thought.

“Oh? Stephen? If he accepted then I think it’s not that bad.” You comforted her.

Your mind instantly wandering to the thought of Stephen. Why were you getting anxious? You’re an Avenger just as he is.

“I think so, but hey, I gotta get going, there’s still too many to fix for tomorrow.” Christine said.

“A bride needs her rest, doesn’t she? I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, congrats again Christine.” You responded before bidding each other goodbye and hanging up.

You stared at your phone for a minute, your reflection from the screen staring right at you.

Tomorrow. Wedding. Stephen.

You sigh with closed eyes. How bad could it be?

You stood up and immediately went to your room, you felt like you needed rest much earlier than before.

Waking up, you realized it was already morning. You were afraid you were already late when you glanced at the time.

9:00 AM

You sigh in relief, the wedding wasn’t until an hour, so you had the right amount of time to prepare.

Standing up and opening your closet, you settled on picking out a cowl neck slit maxi dress, along with a heel ankle strapped sandals to go along with it.

You yawned, covering your mouth. You blinked a few times, staring at the outfit you had planned. It looks good.

Then it was time to take a shower.

After that, you wrapped yourself up with the towel, going over to the mirror to dry your hair.

You glanced at the time, a solid 20 minutes before the wedding starts, and it was just the right time to go from here to the church.

You got dressed, straightening out the dress that hugged your figure perfectly. Having no time to struggle with the sandals, with a flick of your wrist as your feet wore it, the straps moved themselves to lock it in place.

You look in the mirror again, mustering a smile you were ready to give later. “The hair...” You mutter.

You shrug, making another movement with your hands to make the desired hairstyle happen. “That’s more like it.”

You went over to your drawer to grab a purse that matched, as well as a gold bracelet to complete your look.

You found yourself staring one last time in the mirror before nodding to yourself. “All right, let’s do this.”

The car ride from the church was tense, because it was the first time you’d be around many people publicly, at a wedding. You didn’t mind, sure, but some of the people were found to be hating, complaining that their lives had been ruined because of you.

“We’re here, miss.” The driver said. You thanked him, paying the amount before getting off the car. There were people already piling up with smiles on their faces.

You tried to make yourself look subtle, walking forward to find yourself a seat. You felt a few gazes on your way as the chatter grew.

By being too busy making yourself look subtle, you were unaware of the figure also standing to look for somebody as you bumped onto them, making you stumble back a bit until they had grab a hold of your wrist. You were looking down at their hand when you realize it was someone in a rather fancy suit.

“I’m sorry I should’ve...” You began, your eyes making the mistake of travelling upwards to meet the man’s eyes.

Cold hard blue-grey ones pierced into yours, making your words suddenly halt. You realized who this was, and how unfortunate you were to bump into him this early.

With his black hair accompanied by grey streaks on the sides, styled perfectly, his suit made him even more appealing. You realized your thoughts, mentally smacking yourself.

“Y- I’m sor-“

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He spoke, his voice thick as he looked at you, letting go of your wrist to let you stand upright. “Christine didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head, his other hand delicately holding the wedding invitation that he got. His heart almost felt destitute of what he was about to witness, he knew Christine was happy, who was he to destroy her life? He knew it in his mind that she deserved better, and attending this wedding may as well be the closure he needed.

But things took a turn as he unexpectedly bumped into you. Stephen could note that he saw you before. Fighting alongside him. And even coming close to saving his ass a few times that he noticed.

“No, no she didn’t.” Stephen spoke. Seeing you in this way rather than messed from a fight had a slight change in thought in his mind that he ignored, still looking at you.

You both ended up looking at each other for a few good seconds before he clears his throat, moving back and gesturing to the seat. He doesn’t usually do that but he finds himself speaking. “Here, take a seat. I think it’ll start soon anyway.”

“Oh, thank you... Stephen.” You say, saying his name felt weird, thinking you should’ve just left it at thanks.

For Stephen, however, his name roll off on your tongue for the first time loud and clear had the tips of his ears tinging pink. “Yeah, no worries. “

Why was he acting this way? Acting like he was having a love at first sight moment. But you looked different from the battlefield to just... normally. He hasn’t known a lot about you, but he knows you could fight good and he respects that.

Watching you sit, he takes the one beside you, fidgeting with the invitation as the chatter resumed behind you.

As you sat, Stephen did the same beside you, both your knees brushing for a brief moment, sending warmth to your cheeks. What on earth, you couldn’t possibly be feeling like this right now? Could you..? For heaven’s sake you weren’t even sure if you could call yourselves friends yet after saving the whole world.

Stephen decided to flush out the things he felt at the moment, deciding to talk with you before the wedding started as people started taking their seats.

You didn’t know why, but as the longer the both of you talked and teased made you instantly comfortable around him.

Even as the ceremony progressed, you and Stephen were silently chuckling and smiling at each other. You even somehow forget what you were nervous about when meeting him.

Though as some might say he was intimidating and a jerk, yes, he was intimidating, but the second one? You thought not so much of, he seemed nice, genuine.

After the ceremony however, came the reception.

Everyone started standing up, getting ready to head for the reception when you realized you haven’t got a ride. But then it seemed like your prayers were answered in a mere second.

“I’ve got my car back there, seeming as you’re not leaving yet, you want to go to the reception together?” Stephen asks, standing up.

You knew better than to pass it up, so you agreed.

Arriving at the place, some looks were given your way as you arrived with Stephen. Some were smiling and pointing, some were even shocked. And some of course wanted some pictures.

The two of you, knowing better, agreed to their requests.

“So are you two together?” One guest asked, an elderly man with glasses. Your eyes widened as Stephen cleared his throat.

“Oh, oh, no. We’re not..” You shyly say. Stephen slowly shakes his head.

“Aw that’s a shame, you two look great together, and now will you excuse me I’m going to grab myself more of the food here. Its great.” The man said, walking past the both of you.

You and Stephen stared at the man, before staring at each other, then bursting out of laughter.

As the ceremony at the reception progressed, you can’t help but feel emotional as both Christine and her husband took their first dance. You could genuinely see how happy Christine looked and you couldn’t be happier for her. You almost swore you were about to cry when they were looking at each other so dearly.

Grabbing a glass of champagne at the small bar, you took a sip before sighing.

Stephen, however, was busy talking with Christine as she approached him.

“Congratulations.” Stephen says, looking at her for a few seconds before averting his gaze away. “Thank you, Stephen.”

“I could tell you’re really happy.”

Christine sighs, nodding and smiling. “I am.” She tilted her head to ask him. “But are you? Are you happy?”

Stephen felt the sudden weight on his shoulders. Was he happy?

The thing is, he doesn’t know.

Stephen nods, preparing yet another lie. “Yeah, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Christine seemed to take it well, but deep down she knows Stephen deserved someone that truly loved him the way she did. And she could see one person who’s just that. You.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Stephen. Whatever that’s going on with you right now, that’ll be over soon. I do hope you find someone, I truly do.” Christine says, but she could see you on the bar, having a drink.

“You’ll never know maybe that someone’s just around the corner.” Christine said.

Stephen wanted to shut his ears, to not listen, but who would that work out for? He’d only make things worse for himself. So he listened, taking her words in. He attended this wedding to find the closure he wanted and that’s what he did get, along with Christine being finally happy.

Stephen looks down, biting the inside of his cheek. “Yes, thank you, Christine.”

Christine laid a hand on his forearm in comfort.

“Christine! Congratulations!�� Came your voice from behind them. Stephen perks his head up, turning around as Christine approached you, he saw the champagne in your hand and the bar behind, making a mental note to grab himself a drink as we walked, bidding the two of you to talk.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I’m really glad you can make it, along with Stephen.” She says.

You shake your head. “Of course, you’re almost like a sister to me. I’m really happy to see you up there.”

“Thank you, and speaking of happy, I noticed you and Stephen...” Christine trailed off, a mischievous smile gracing her lips. Your cheeks warmed as you laugh, trying to deny it. “No, no, not gonna happen, Christine.”

She shakes her head. “I saw you two earlier, you looked cute, and besides, you two would make a great pair one day.”

“That’s going to take a long time.” You joked. “Hey, if it means the two of you ending up together then why not? It seems to me you’re the only one person Stephen loved to talk to today, he’s interested in you. Trust me, I know him.”

Your cheeks were still warm as you were flustered. “Just see where it goes, who knows, you’re the one that I trust the most, if Stephen ends up with you then I couldn’t be happier.”

You wanted to believe it, but Stephen still looked broken-hearted. Maybe some other day. You just needed time. “Okay, whatever you say, Christine, congratulations again.” You say. She nods, before going over to the other guests that were calling out to her.

You took a deep breath in. Empty champagne glass in your hand.

Turning around and walking to the bar, you spot Stephen drinking a few glasses of Martini, already finishing one before grabbing another.

“Slow down there, or else I’m going to have to drive you home.” You said, standing beside him as he has his elbow propped onto the bar. “Be my guest.” He replies. You laugh, but then you place your glass down, looking at him take another sip.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He replied.

You shrugged, there was the Strange you knew.

“I don’t know, you don’t look fine to me.”

Stephen shakes his head, he was about to grab another drink when he placed it down. “I’m sorry, there’s just a lot going on my mind.”

“Yeah, I understand, it’s getting a little overwhelming, really.” You say.

Stephen looks at you, before standing upright and grabbing another glass, handing it to you and grabbing another for himself. “Then let’s forget about it for a while.”

You grabbed the drink, swirling it for a moment before looking at him.

The both of you found yourselves talking again, telling all sorts of stories. And by now the both of you were laughing again.

“And he stood there for the whole hour trying to make a portal but then he just kept on making sparks.”

You laugh. “You gotta admit, he’s dedicated.”

Stephen nods. “He reminds me of myself back then.”

“You’ve come a long way Stephen.” You say, smiling genuinely.

“Suppose I have, enough about that. Now, tell me about yourself.” Stephen asked you.

As Christine’s eyes watched the pair of you as you talked and talked, he saw the familiar glint in Stephen’s eye, the look that he used to give when he was admiring something, or rather when he felt happy. A look that he used to give her. And as for you, she could tell Stephen had made his way to your heart.

Christine smiled. She was happy for him, she was happy for you. She could tell this was heading for somewhere better, and with her fingers crossed, she hoped it was true.

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olsenmyolsen · 8 months

Text

Because of You: The Big Day

master list

dark master list

(Gender Neutral Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Be sure to read part one - No Powers. Post College AU

Summary: Years have passed since Wanda didn't reveal her feelings. What happens when you're about to get married?

Word Count: 3.5K

Wanda looks herself over in the mirror.

She smiles. She loves the dress you picked out. She loves the color and how it fits her body. She loves that you told her it took ages to find something so perfect.

Wanda runs her hands over it one more time. Here Wanda was. In her perfect dress because of you.

While you were in the room next door. In your perfect outfit. Because of someone else. For someone else.

Wanda's dress was maroon.

Your outfit was white. It was your wedding day, after all.

On the outside, Wanda was happy for you. On the inside, she was...

Since that day in your suite, Wanda had many opportunities to confess her love to you, but she never could. It felt wrong to do something that could disrupt your happiness, not even when your happiness had breaks of sadness when you and Natasha would have your off moments.

But those moments would be over quicker than Wanda could... well, then Wanda could say she loved you- Loves you.

Regardless. Right there through it all. Through the years. Wanda stuck with you. And now here Wanda was... four years later. Knocking on your door again. This time, to the room where you were getting your hair and makeup done at the venue. "That better not be who I think it is!" A voice loudly exclaimed. A voice Wanda knew to be your fun Aunt Agatha.

"It's not!" Wanda called out through her bandaged-up heart.

The door opened seconds later to see Agatha happy to see Wanda. "Oh, Wanda dear! My my! Look how beautiful you look!" Wanda shyly smiles at the compliments as Agatha takes her hand. Pulling her in and closing the door behind her. Your mother and the rest of your family get up to greet Wanda as Agatha shows her off.

But Wanda only wants to see you.

"Wanda, that dress looks so stunning on you! Much better on you than that Bishop girl. I swear getting her to wear a dress was like pulling teeth." Wanda politely smiled and laughed, knowing Kate's hatred of dresses. "Yes! Well, thank you! Y/N made a terrific choice." Wanda smiled.

"On the dress or that Natasha!" Agatha grips Wanda's arm and laughs like a mad woman. The joke clearly being the funniest to herself, but it gets some good laughs from everyone but Wanda.

When the laughter dies down, Wanda looks around the room, but she doesn't see you. "Where's Y/N-" just as she's about to finish asking, that's when you come out of the attached room.

You hadn't heard Wanda enter, but when your Aunt Agatha was guffawing for some reason, you knew you had to check. And to start counting her drinks.

"What's so fun-"

All eyes turned off of Wanda and onto you. Everyone in the room had already seen your outfit but one person. But now their green eyes were on you.

Only you.

But just as Wanda was memorizing the details. You looked back at her in the maroon dress you fought tooth and nail on. It had to be that dress! No matter what Kate or anyone else said about it. You knew it was Wanda's favorite color. Along with the cut. How it fit. Hell, even the designer. It had to be... it was for Wanda.

You smiled at her. She smiled back.

Your smile was genuine.

Wanda's never reached her eyes.

"Doesn't she look beautiful, Wanda?" Your mother asked with a proud smile. Wanda, still not removing her gaze from you, responded. "She's more than that."

You quickly panned your head down, missing a knowing look from Agatha, and started walking towards Wanda. To hide your cheeks and to greet your best friend. The crowd dispersed as Wanda's arms wrapped around you.

Wanda closed her eyes and gently inhaled. It's a little weird, but today, your smell was just like it was before Natasha. Back when Wanda would claim your hoodies before the rain washed it out. Before you became you and Natasha.

"Thank you for coming." Wanda heard you whisper into her ear. "Of course," Wanda answered like it was an easy choice. You'll never know how much she fought her own feet to get here.

"Why don't we let the girls mingle a bit? There's still time until we gotta force her down the aisle." Agatha's laughter burst through the room. "No, it's okay. I just came to stop by, say my congrats, and see you.." Wanda trailed off but smiled.

You went to speak, but your mom cut you off. "Well, let's take some pictures of the two of you before you get separated later tonight."

"Oh, how right you are." Wanda thought.

Wanda turned her body and put her arm around your back. Her soft right-hand landing on your hip. "Oh, I'm so happy I get to be here for this." Your mother kept babbling on and on about how beautiful you looked while taking picture after picture. About how pretty Wanda looks. And, of course, about how far the two of you have come as best friends.

"I still remember when Wanda picked you up for the first time after getting her driver's license. Oh lord, I thought I was going to have a heart attack."

You and everyone else laughed as you were leaning up against Wanda, who was sitting on the arm of the couch as your mother continued. "And, of course, the car was red!" She shook her head, and Wanda laughed harder, remembering how much she fought her parents to have that color.

You watched Wanda throw her back, laugh, and smile. It was the first natural, genuine smile of Wanda's in a while. You noticed.

A knock came at the door, signaling it was time for everyone to find their seats. Or, in Wanda's case, stand. She was the maid of honor, after all.

Everyone excitedly squealed and except one. She was going to be the first person to leave the room, but you stopped her. As she stood up, you grabbed her hand and held on tight. "Stay."

Wanda just looked at you as you moved your attention to everyone else. "Get your hugs in now before I'm too busy later!" You joked, smiled, and made it seem like you were on top of the world. Well, wishes, congrats, and, of course, hugs followed for a short time before, one by one, the closest people you considered family were out the door. Agatha and your mother were the last ones out. Leaving you only with Wanda, standing in the middle of the room.

Wanda turned to you.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I'm feeling?" You asked and swallowed as you shined a bright smile, making Wanda chuckle back. "How are you feeling, Y/N?" Wanda avoided eye contact and instead focused on your hands. Watching as your fingers twisted and held one another. "I probably know how you're feeling," Wanda said as she reached out and took your hands in hers—lifting her head to look at you.

"You're about to marry Natasha Romanoff. You're the luckiest woman in the world." Wanda's smile faltered, and you saw the water pooling in the corners of her eyes. But Wanda remained strong. And kept her focus on you.

She couldn't break now. She had chances before. College had come and gone. The years that followed as well. She couldn't say the words to you now. She couldn't.

But fuck. She wanted to.

"God..." Wanda spoke in a hushed tone. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." Wanda's eyes danced across your face. "Wanda..." You went to speak, but Wanda shook her head and removed her hands from yours. "Detka... I'm happy for you." Wanda admitted through a sniffle.

You took a step closer to Wanda and brushed your hands along her face. Careful not to mess up her makeup. "But what about you? Are you happy?" You finally asked the question that's been plaguing your mind for the longest time. You could never pinpoint the correct answer, but deep, deep down, you knew.

"If you're happy. I'm happy." Wanda answered. It might've been her most truthful answer.

You stared at Wanda as she stared back. From Wanda's watery eyes, you saw her flick her gaze from your eyes to your lips before she opened her mouth. "I should go."

You didn't want her to leave. Your feelings for Wanda have ebbed and flowed since that day in the suite, but you remained loyal to Natasha. You truly did love her, but never more than right now, in this moment, did you want Wanda.

But you couldn't. You can't.

You moved your body back and nodded. "Thank you for seeing me, Wanda. Time flies." Wanda nodded even though both of you weren't exactly sure of the true meaning behind that last sentence.

"Natasha's very lucky." Wanda looked at you before she turned around, heading towards the door. You smiled lightly as you turned and headed for the chair in front of the vanity. You heard the door open before: "Y/N?" You turned to look at Wanda, whose back was to you.

"Wanda?"

Wanda opened her mouth to say those three words but stopped herself. "I'm happy to have you in my life."

Just like that, the door was closed, and you collapsed into the chair. Your mind began racing and wondering about Wanda Maximoff.

On the other side of the door. Wanda broke. She moved a hand up to her eyes and cried. She kept her mouth shut, trying to stay muffled as the tears poured. She could feel the mascara run, and all Wanda could think about was how she was going to lose you.

Wanda's tears subsided minutes later when she remembered where she was. Wanda moved herself out from in front of your door and was going to go back to the room she got ready in to freshen up or leave altogether when Natasha came around the corner.

Wearing nothing but white and a smile.

"Hey, Wanda! Wow, you look stunning! Way better than-" That's when she noticed the tears and how quick Wanda's eyes were turning red. "Wanda? What's wrong?!" Natasha, on her wedding day, immediately puts her focus into someone else.

She turns Wanda's head to get a better look. "What's wrong?" Natasha asked again, but Wanda just shook her head. "Nothing." Wanda began to cover. "Just left Y/N, and... it's just.. happening!" Wanda spoke and looked at Natasha's eyes. "The big day!" Wanda put on a fake smile and wore it proudly. She cheered.

"Oh!" Wanda's explanation made Natasha smile. Ever since the first time Natasha met Wanda, it was like there was this wall between them. Natasha always tried her hardest and was always on her best behavior for the Sokovian. Wanda was your best friend, after all. So to see Wanda be so happy for you and Natasha. Today! That made Natasha ecstatic. "Thank you, Wanda!" Natasha carefully pulled Wanda into a hug, making sure no makeup left stains.

"Do you think they're a mess too?" Natasha joked to Wanda, who actually laughed. "No. I'm sure Y/N's fine." Wanda spoke with truth laced between those words. "I'm sure she's fine."

Natasha looked into Wanda's eyes and smiled again. "Thank you for being here. Now, don't worry about rushing outside. It looks like it might rain, and I kinda want to see the person I'm marrying." Natasha looked at Wanda sheepishly. "You know, since we're both non-traditional, I think we don't have to worry about anything." Wanda laughed because Natasha did.

"Well, you know where they are," Wanda spoke. "I'll go get cleaned up." Wanda looked at Natasha one last time. Natasha looked breathtaking to anyone else except her. Wanda excused herself and headed to the room she was in before she saw you.

Natasha watched Wanda disappear down the hall before she turned towards your door. With a few steps and a giant smile, she gingerly knocked on your door and creaked it open. "Y/N?" Natasha poked her head in and called out.

Stunned to hear your fiancées voice, you quickly grabbed tissues sitting on your vanity and began wiping under your eyes. "Shit." You whispered when it was clear on your face that you had been crying. But not normal tears. Tears for someone else. "Y/N?" Natasha called out when you didn't turn to the door. "You can look. It's okay, I promise." Natasha joked, but when you turned, her smile vanished. She quickly shut the door and ran to you. "Y/N babe, what's wrong?"' You shook your head.

A sense of dejavú washed over Natasha. Seeing you and Wanda within minutes apart with eyes full of sadness. "Talk to me." Natasha bent down in front of you. Taking your hands in hers. "Baby.." Natasha looked up to you. "I love you." You say to Natasha when your eyes meet her green ones. "I love you too." She replies so easily, but her smile back isn't quite the same. You sniffle as Natasha holds your hands tighter.

"It might rain.." Natasha starts as she pulls her hands out and starts cleaning your face. When you look up, she quickly wipes her own. "It's supposed to be good luck.. I think." Natasha smiles. "I thought we weren't believing in tradition and crazy theories?" You laugh. "One wouldn't hurt. Just one." Natasha says in a hushed tone.

"Just one." You repeat. "How bad is my face?" You ask in a teasing tone. "It's never been more beautiful." Nat skillfully answers, making you smile. "Now, let me touch it up before we get married." Natasha gets up and turns you around to face yourself. Natasha doesn't ask you why you're crying again.

You're happy.

You're happy...

"We shouldn't take too long." You say. "What are they gonna do, marry someone without us?" Nat smirks. "I mean, Kate and Yelena are here." You say, making Nat stop in her tracks. "Shit. Let's be quick." You both laugh.

"I love you."

Wanda looks up at the sky and watches as the white clouds make way for the darker ones. Metaphors huh. Wanda thinks today could be delayed if they wait any longer, but just as she looks down, she sees you. Hand in hand with your fiancée standing at the end of the aisle waiting for the music to start. Your eyes meet just as the music swells and everyone rises and turns. But your eyes remain locked, and Wanda smiles.

Wanda makes a deal with herself right then and there that she'll never speak a word of her feelings towards you. You're about to marry Natasha Romanoff.

Wanda wants nothing but the best for you.

You and Wanda miss the fact that Natasha sees how you two look at one another. Especially now. With a squeeze of your hand, you pull your eyes back to your right. To Natasha. "Ready?" She smiles at you. You nod, and together, you walk down the aisle.

Everyone watches with heart-shaped eyes and smiles, making the act of marriage all the more magical. When you both make it to the end, you each hand your respected bouquets to your respected people. Yelena for Natasha. Wanda for you. You look into Wanda's eyes when your fingers touch, but she looks away from you.

"Dearly beloved..." Natasha's friend Steve Rogers starts regaining your attention.

Natasha takes her hands in yours, but when you look at her, you find her looking where Wanda is looking. She follows her eyesight and finds Pietro giving her sister a sad look.

"Natasha?" You whisper to your fiancée, who has come to terms with the events that will follow.

"Y/N.." She whispers back while Steve keeps going. "I love you," Natasha says with tears in her eyes.

"This occasion marks the celebration of love and commitment with..." She pulls her hands from you.

"Steve, stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Can we stop??!" His ramblings stop soon enough.

Natasha takes a step back and looks out to everyone who wears horrified looks. "I'm sorry..." Natasha turns to you and your surprised face. "Natasha.." Nat shakes her head. "I'm sorry. But I love you too much for this Y/N." She comes up to you and kisses your cheek. "I love you." Natasha has tears falling down her as she begins walking back up the aisle alone. The tears pull away at the mask she's been keeping up for years. She thought she was crazy at first, but she's not stupid. At the end of the day, your heart would always belong to someone else.

The rows of people stand up and watch your crying fiancée run away. You stand there stunned, and pretty soon, faces start to turn to you, looking for answers. Especially one scary Russian sister. "Go." You feel a push on your back. You turn to look at Wanda, who looks at you like you're crazy. "Go! Go after her!"

"Wan-"

"Go!" Wanda pushes you because of the promise she made. She wants you to go after the former redhead. "Please.." Wanda whispers, and it breaks your heart, but you go. You chase after Natasha as the sky opens up and the rain starts to fall.

"Natasha!" You yell out, unsure of which direction she went. "Natasha!" You try again as the rain is forcing people inside. You hedge your bets and hope she is in the room she got ready this morning.

Wanda watches along with half of the wedding party. You turn the corner, and Wanda decides that right now might be the best time.

Wanda Maximoff heads towards the exit.

"Natasha!" You throw open her door, a little out of breath from running and the oncoming panic attack. You see Natasha sitting on the couch in her room crying, yet she looks at you confused. "Y/N?"

"Hey, I'm here! I'm here." You run to her side and try to comfort her, but she pulls out from your touch. "What are you doing here?" Now it's your turn to look at your fiancée.. ex-fiancée (?), confused. "What do you mean? I'm chasing after my fiancée."

"Y/N..." Natasha gets up. She shakes her head and throws the veil off her frame. "You every right to do that, but don't..."

"Don't what?" Now you get up and watch Natasha. She stops and sighs. "Y/N... I may be your fiancée but.. but I'm not the one you love."

You don't answer, but your ex does it for the both of you. She swallows her tears and walks closer to you. "I'm not the one you love, and that's okay, Y/N. It is. I'm doing this for the both of us."

"Natasha-"

"Go!" She pushes you, making you stumble a bit. "I love you, so please go..."

You nod and begin to walk off but stop when you feel the weight on your ring finger. You look at it and think about the day you and Natasha proposed to each other. You did it because she did it.

You, with all the care in the world, pull it off and walk back to Natasha. "Whoever they are. The person you love after me will make you forget about this. They'll always be there for you. They'll make you stronger, and they'll patch up my mess. I- I did love you, Natasha. I did." It breaks your heart to see Natasha cry like this. You open her hand and place the ring in it. She closes her hand around it and nods. "Goodbye."

Just as you're about to head to the door, a furious blonde Russian begins banging on it, cursing in her native language. Thank goodness you thought to lock it so you could privately talk to Natasha. You look at the former bride, but all she does is point to the window. Knowingly, she'll have to deal with her family. And yours. You silently thank your mother for finding a one-story venue.

You run to the giant human-sized window as the rain pours down, causing cool air to blow into the room when you push them open.

The last time you saw Natasha was right before you jumped out the window. When you turned around just in time to see her taking her ring off.

Your shoes hit the wet grass below. The rain is doing it's best to block your vision, but you still spot Wanda's red car reversing out of a space.

You know it's now or never. So, just like in those romcoms you watched with Wanda all those years ago, you ran. You ran towards her. Towards her car as she kicked it into drive. Passing by all the families' and friends' cars who would sit idle for the next hour before they realized you weren't coming back.

Wanda stopped at the red sign, but due to the rain, she didn't see you running towards her. You were almost to her car when she pushed on the gas pedal again. Now she turned the car away from your direction. She was getting further and further away. Again... However, you pushed yourself. You kept running after her until your legs gave out, and you stumbled.

You lost your pace. You faltered, and when you looked up, her car was about to leave the lot. Turn signal on and everything.

But then she stopped.

The car stopped.

The driver-side door opened, and out Wanda stepped into the pouring rain. Through the water pouring down, you couldn't hear her yelling.

But Wanda started walking to you.

You got up and ran.

Stopping in front of Wanda, you could see the tears hidden by the rain. "What are you doing?!?" She yelled. Demanding an answer. But you looked at her with regret on your face. Regret for wasting time and years.

"I love you." You wrapped your arms around Wanda and held her close—face to face. "I've loved you for years, a-and I regret never doing anything about it—the amount of times I-I wanted to but couldn't. I'm sorry. Take my hand, please. I love you, Wanda Maximoff. I want to be yours."

Wanda didn't say anything as her green eyes look- "Kiss me."

You put your hands to Wanda's face and moved closer until your noses brushed past one another and your lips collided in the rain.

You and Wanda were everything each other dreamed of.

In time, you guys would talk about everything that other person didn't see from today. But right now, at this moment, nothing else was on your mind. Except how madly in love you were.

Wanda Maximoff wasn't sure when it happened, but one day, she started looking at rings a little bit differently.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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separatist-apologist · 1 year

Text

Still A Sunbeam

Summary: As a child, Elain Archeron is pushed into a pond by the heir to the Day Courts throne, Lucien Spell-Cleaver, and vows she'll never forgive him for it. But as an adult, Elain finds that if she wants out of an arranged marriage to a Spring Court prince, she will need Day Court's help. More is at stake than a decades-old rivalry, and when their home is threatened, Elain and Lucien will have to set aside old differences and work together

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“Stop fussing.”

Impossible instructions for nine year old Elain. While her mother tried her best to tie a large, cream colored ribbon in her bouncy curls, Elain tried to inch herself further toward the window. A lilac scented breeze poured in, ruffing sheer curtains playfully, while buttery beams of sunlight illuminated her mothers bedchamber.

All of Prythian was about to descend on the Spring Court. For the first time in seven years, given the current rotation of courts and lords. Elain had been only a baby then, and too young and unimportant to be allowed to go to any of the other courts. She was minor nobility—a Wildwood on her mothers side, which meant something among the Spring courtiers. Her line was ancient and old, and the fact that she’d married an Archeron had been unusual.

Her father, after all, was little more than a merchant from Hybern, come to settle after the last war with Prythian. He’d left his home and everything he loved for Elain’s mother, and though he was mostly respected at court, he’d never be anything other than a foreign born working man.

No matter how wealthy he was, or how his ties improved the High Lord of Springs relationship with the once volatile nation.

Elain knew these things because she wanted a seat at the High Lord’s table someday. Not as a wife, which she knew was whispered about, but an equal. A political player to rival even the wiliest of Autumn Court.

More than that, Elain wanted to study in the Day Court. She wanted to learn from the High Lord and his lady, wanted to sit in their famed libraries that reportedly held the compendium of the world's knowledge. Which meant today, with a perfect ribbon in her immaculately curled hair, and a pretty, daffodil yellow dress, that Elain had to impress the Lady of Day Court.

Amera Spell-Cleaver. Rumored to be the most beautiful female in all of Prythian, Amera had been wed to not one, but two High Lords. Beron Vanserra had claimed the Autumn born lady as his bride, and sired four sons with her before a mating bond snapped between Amera and Helion, High Lord of Day. Elain had been alive for none of the following drama, though she’d heard a war had nearly been fought on her behalf. In the end, a deal had been struck—Beron kept his sons, and Amera was allowed to leave and remarry.

She had another son Elain had never met, though she knew his name. Lucien. Elain knew the names of all the one-day High Lords. She knew the names of the daughters who would intermarry into other courts, strengthening the ties of their brothers and their allies.

As a second daughter, Elain felt less pressure to marry well. She was certain a proper match would be arranged for her eventually, but marrying an important lord—or even an heir—would fall to Nesta. Feyre was far too wild to ever marry, no matter what the youngest son of the High Lord of Spring thought.

“Are you paying attention?” her mother demanded, pulling open a wooden box of jewelry. Elain nodded her head, though of course she hadn’t been. She was so afraid she’d miss the arrival of Amera and thus her chance at making a perfect first impression.

“It’s your job to keep Feyre in line,” her mother told her, handing Elain a pair of pretty, pear earrings. Elain slid them in carefully, lips sealed though she wanted to protest. “We can have no embarrassments. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mama,” Elain agreed, knowing full well her mother wasn’t asking so much as telling. No matter how hard anyone tried, Feyre was never going to be a great lady which irked their mother to no end. She’d all but written Feyre off as unsalvageable. Elain pretended it didn’t hurt her feelings, even when her parents made their blatant favorites known.

“Do try and keep from being too underfoot,” her mother added, taking one last look at Elain. Whatever she saw satisfied her, which Elain took to mean she was beautiful. “I know how you love parties.”

Elain offered a beaming smile. “Yes, mama.”

And with those final, parting words, Elain was allowed to leave her mothers chamber in the High Lords sprawling country estate. Elain’s own bedroom was just down the hall, a trio of interconnecting chambers she shared with both Nesta and Feyre. Elain had grown up among the rolling, lush hills dotted with wildflowers. She’d spent days in the woods, playing hide and seek with the other children at court. In between her own lessons, Elain spent time in the garden, working the soil until she managed to make something lovely grow. The Lady of Spring didn’t mind and had encouraged Elain with her own set of gardening tools.

Elain found Nesta in the grandhall, beautiful like always with her braided crown of golden brown hair and her nose pressed into a book. Elain bounded toward her, plopping beside Nesta on the rose-carved bench.

“Are you excited?”

“No.”

Elain huffed out a sigh. Nesta glanced over, one brow arched. “You know, one day some male is going to think you like politics so much because you find him fascinating. And then what, Elain? When you have to marry some boring lord's son, all because you don’t know when to make yourself scarce?”“At least I’ll have someone to talk to,” Elain snarked back.

“Yes,” Nesta’s lips curled into a sneer so reminiscent of their mother that Elain sat up taller instinctively. “How interesting he’ll find you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Elain snapped.

“You’re better off in the woods with Feyre,” Nesta added, her silvery blue eyes drifting toward the archway. Elain started to look before the sound of chatter down the opposite end of the hall caught her attention. Someone had arrived. Elain jumped from her chair, nearly smacking into Killian. The second born to the High Lord of Spring, he and Elain might have been friends had he been born a century earlier.

And he not been so cruel. Oh, he was kind to her, but to those he found unworthy of his time or attention, Killian was often vicious. He made her nervous, despite his easy, golden good looks. He didn’t particularly care for Nesta, who was snappish, and she’d heard him once shout at Feyre for dragging mud into the estate.

He was nice to her, though. Catching her by the arms, he offered her a handsome smile. “Careful, princess.”

She’d long since stopped reminding him she wasn’t a princess.

“Sorry,” she said instead, dipping into a polite bow. His smile widened, one hand reaching for one of her springy curls. He was always touching her hair for reasons Elain couldn’t make sense of.

“No need to apologize. Where are you off to?”

Green eyes sparkled with some unknown joke. Elain wanted to pull the hair he was threading through his fingers out of his grasp. She could see her older sister from the corner of her eye watching, those silvery blue eyes burning with dislike.

“I heard someone arrived.”

“Dawn,” he said conspiratorially. “Punctual, like always.”

He didn’t budge, forcing her to keep her attention wholly on him. Elain still wanted to meet the other delegations.

“Of course, my lord.”

“Why don’t you let me walk you through the garden, little princess?”

An arm looped through Elain’s and all at once, Killian dropped the curl he’d been fingering. Nesta stood beside Elain, her book clutched in her free hand.

“No need, Lord Killian. I will occupy my baby sister.”

His easy smile faded. Dipping a head of shoulder length blonde hair, Elain watched him retreat. She had the sense there’d been some sort of power struggle and that Nesta, despite being eleven, had won.

“Come on,” Nesta grumbled, tugging Elain down the corridor. “We’ll miss everyone’s arrival if Killian keeps talking.”

Elain rounded the corner just in time. Freezing in place and gripping Nesta’s hand so hard her sister yanked away with a hiss, Elain made it to the foyer just in time for the Lady of Day to step inside.

She was beautiful. Elain had never seen anyone as lovely as Amera Spell-Cleaver. Draped in a gown of gold and crowned in a bright, sunburst tiara, she looked warm. Russet eyes sparkled while her auburn hair cascaded about her slim shoulders in a glossy waterfall. She was greeted by the pretty Lady of Spring while her husband, Helion Spell-Cleaver, offered the High Lord of Spring a tense smile and a tight bow.

“My son,” Amera said sweetly. Her voice was like music, Elain decided. Even Nesta seemed taken aback by her sweetness. Amera pushed forward a boy who couldn’t have been older than Nesta. He had his fathers face, though all of his features seemed too big for his lanky frame. His golden brown skin was offset by shoulder length red hair half braided from his scap. Like his father, he wore a white pleated skirt around his skinny legs, while a bolt of fabric clasped over one of his bony shoulders.

He did not look pleased to be there.

Elain started to take a step forward, which proved to be a mistake. The Lady of Spring noticed her. Smiling, she said, “Poor Lucien looks exhausted. Tamlin is out with his older brother, but perhaps Lady Elain could show you around?” Lucien looked over at Elain before turning to his father. “I want to stay with you,” he said, not looking at Elain a second more.

“Go,” his father urged as he placed a broad hand against his son's back. “Make a friend.”

Nesta snorted, well aware Elain had been thwarted. But Lady Amera was looking at her, and Elain was able to sink into a deep curtsey before the Day Court royals. Looking only at Amera, she said, “It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Elain.”

Amera’s smile widened. “If my son gives you any trouble, you come find me.”

“Of course.”

The adults pushed forward while Nesta took off, determined not to be roped into entertaining a foreign prince. It left Elain to stand before him awkwardly.

“Do you want to see the garden?” she asked him. Lucien shrugged.

“Fine.”

Elain gestured for him to follow her out onto the lawn. A paved stone path wound from the front drive, leading around the side of the estate toward the sprawling garden. Elain was giddy with excitement. She’d show Lucien around, take him back indoors, and charm the mother he clearly didn’t appreciate.

“Do you like flowers?” she asked him.

“No.”

“What do you like?” she pressed, a little annoyed with how sullen he was.

“Swimming,” Lucien finally said, shuffling his sandaled feet. Elain thought of the starlight pool before casting it from her mind. It was too far from the grounds to trek out that far, especially when she barely wanted to be in the garden.

“Well—”

“Little Lucy,” crooned a masculine voice just behind them. Lucien went still for a second, his face wan. Elain turned, frowning when Eris Vanserra strolled around the hedges, his hands jammed in his pockets. He was fifty something, far older than either of them.

“Do you want a tour of the garden?” Elain asked, thinking it would scare him off. Eris grinned, canines gleaming beneath the golden light of Spring.

“I would love a tour, little princess. I hear this was a mating gift from the High Lord to his wife.”

Eris was far better company than Lucien based on that one sentence alone.

“He did!” she said with a smile, resuming her pace along the path.

“How lovely. Mates are so rare…so cherished—”

“Shut up,” Lucien hissed under his breath, his hands balled to fists. “Shut up about father right now.”

“What did I say?” Eris asked innocently, and too late, Elain realized she was caught in the middle of a fight between half brothers.

“You know what you’re doing!” Lucien accused. Elain sidestepped them both, backing toward a pond at the edge of the garden. A little bench beckoned for her to sit, to wait this out until she could return indoors.

Eris, every inch a grown male, stared down his straight nose at his brother. “Why don’t you, in all your infinite wisdom, tell me what I’m doing.”

It was a warning. Elain lived with four brothers, all of whom fought like this. Telling Eris, the heir apparent to Autumn, to stop, was far too frightening. Lucien was just a boy, though. Eris’s amber eyes flashed as a warm breeze ruffled his short auburn hair. Both Lucien and Eris favored their fathers too much to look similar, though they shared that same shade of red hair.

“Maybe we could keep walking?” Elain asked, the words coming from her in a squeak. Eris’s eyes snapped to her face.

“A wonderful idea—”

“I don’t want to be out here with him!” Lucien snapped, whirling so fast Elain knocked into him. Lucien’s hands collided with her chest, shoving her out of the way. Elain reached for something that might prevent her from falling into the pond and found only air.

Her back hit the cold water with a splash. It wasn’t deep where she’d fallen, but when Elain scrambled up onto her elbows, looking at a stunned—and maybe apologetic—Lucien, fingers curled around her ankle and yanked.

She tried to scream. Water filled her lungs and Elain screwed her eyes up tight, choking and spluttering with panic. She knew who held her—one of the water wraiths had found her and was dragging her to the bottom where Elain would be made into a meal. Twisting and thrashing did no good. The grip on her was ironclad, bruising her ankle to the point of crushing bone.

Elain felt a sob rise in her chest. She wanted her dad, or her mom, or even her sisters. Someone to save her.

Strong hands gripped Elain’s shoulders. More wraiths, she thought as she fought violently against the hold. The water had warmed, was almost too hot, though that might have been her imagination. The hand on her ankle vanished as the ones on her arms wrapped around her body. She couldn’t fight them, could only accept this miserable fate.

Her head hit the air first. Elain spluttered, blinking open her eyes. Eris Vanserra waded toward the shore, his hair plastered to his forehead.

“You’re fine,” he said when she began trembling. Elain wrapped her arms and legs around him, trying to climb higher in order to escape the water and the wraiths she was certain would return. “Calm down, you’ll drown us both.”

“I want my daddy,” Elain managed, sucking in a breath of air. On the shore, Lucien stood looking terrified.

“I—” he tried, but Elain couldn’t help the wailing sob that escaped her.

“She’s fine,” Eris told his brother, rising from the water. Water sluiced off them both, creating large puddles as Eris walked her back to the estate. Elain couldn’t help her frantic sobs, face buried in Eris’s fine green tunic.

“What happened?”

“No,” she whispered, hearing Killian’s voice just behind her. Eris’s grip on Elain’s body tightened ever so slightly.

“Nothing that concerns you,” Eris sneered.

“Hand her over,” Killian ordered. Elain clung to Eris tighter.

“I want my dad,” Elain whimpered as Eris glanced down at her.

“Is this your father?” Eris asked, well aware it wasn’t. Elain shook her head back and forth, unwilling to even look at Killian.

“Eris–”

“Mind your own business,” Eris snapped, his younger brother still trailing at his feet.

It was humiliating—all of it. Killian didn’t leave, which meant by the time Eris found Elain’s father, another argument had broken out between the pair. Eris’s own father was furious to see his son sopping wet while Amera Vanserra had listened to Elain explain what happened with big, disappointed eyes.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” Amera said to her eldest as Elain’s father held her tight.

“I guess it runs in the fucking family,” Eris had spat, turning his back to her.

“I messed this all up,” Elain whispered. Lady Amera would never forgive her for this.

And in turn, Elain would never forgive Lucien, either.

*fifteen years later*

“WAKE UP LUCIEN!”

Lucien had the vaguest sense of his bedroom door banging open. Of sandals slapping against marble floors…and a blanket being ripped off his body. Beside him, a feminine voice moaned with displeasure.

Lucien peeked open an eye. “Arina,” he said lazily, running a hand down his chest. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Get up,” she hissed, eyeing the three naked females surrounding him with distaste. “Helion sent me.”

“He knows where I am.” Lucien smiled as a set of lips kissed down the side of his neck. Arina reached for a pillow and threw it at the offending female so hard she fell off the bed in an attempt to avoid pain.

“Get out of here. Lucien has things to do.”

Lucien groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Is she here, then?”

“Not yet,” Arina told him, watching the females from the night before dress quickly and file out. Lucien would need them again, likely before the day was out. He didn’t know which he enjoyed more—watching them pleasure each other, or how well they pleasured him.

When it was just him and Arina, Lucien sat up, not bothering to hide his naked frame. It was nothing the willowy blonde hadn’t seen before, though Arina might have been the only female at court that hadn’t climbed into his bed. She was just as prolific—she merely had no interest in him. They’d grown up together, and Lucien supposed Arina was more like a sister. A sister he’d once watch suck someone off in a corridor, at any rate.

“Your mother would like me to remind you that drowning Elain Archeron is forbidden.”

Lucien scowled. “She’s never going to get over that. It was a fucking accident.”

Arina shrugged. “Is that why you hate her so much?”

Lucien rose, kicking aside a set of underwear that did not belong to him. Lucien hated Elain Archeron for any number of reasons. She was everything wrong with Spring, for one–pretty on the outside, rotten on the inside. She was spoiled, pampered, and selfish. Lucien had been delaying her coming to Day for the last five years, certain she’d give up and marry one of the High Lord’s sons and free him of the misery that was her presence.

She wanted to study politics in his family’s libraries. Wanted to learn from Helion Spell-Cleaver himself. And though Lucien would never admit it, he hated how much his mother seemed to like her. As if she wished Elain was the daughter she’d gotten, versus the son that disappointed her.

Lucien pulled a white and gold chiton over his head before plunking down in a chair. Arina plunged her fingers into his hair, plucking at last night's braids with her long nails.

“I don’t hate her,” Lucien finally said. “That would require caring about her, which I don’t.”

“Good. Then you have no problem greeting her at the door.”

He had a lot of problems with that. Lucien had managed to avoid her since that day in Spring. Elain wasn’t considered important enough to join the delegations in other courts, and the one other time he’d been trapped in Spring, he’d avoided her like the plague. Lucien had never forgotten the look of anger on Eris’s face the day Elain was nearly drowned—nor had he forgotten his fathers anger and his mothers quiet disappointment.

No matter how many times he insisted he’d never meant to shove her, that they’d merely collided into each other and he’d been just as afraid she would be hurt as Eris had been, no one believed him. Elain had sniffled through that story like a doe eyed mouse and claimed he’d been so mad he’d pushed her.

I was only doing what I was told.

Yeah, well, fuck her.

Lucien laced up his sandals, satisfied his hair was decent enough, and turned to Arina. “How long am I supposed to endure her presence?”

Arina sighed as she smoothed out her own vibrant, purple dress. “She’s one female, Lucien. You’re supposed to be High Lord someday. You’ll have to endure far worse than Elain before then.” Lucien reached for a wavy strand of her golden hair and tugged. She smacked him in the stomach, a scowl twisting her pretty features. Lucien took her hand in his and pulled her from the bedroom. Day Court was unlike any other palace in Prythian. Built atop a hill, the structure stretched skyward with yawning spires that, at high noon, seemed to touch the very sun itself. Open and vibrant light poured through massive windows while the corridors were often the site of passionate debate among scholars, politicians, and other folks who’d come up for the day.

Helion hosted musicians and artists, as well as priestesses who had a temple in the city of Rhodes below. No one was ever truly alone in the palace, and while the noise occasionally got to him, Lucien rather liked the bustle of his home.

There were always things to do.

Today, though, Lucien only had one job. He knew he was late when he strolled into the throne room where his father sat, crowned High Lord of their home. His mother was at the foot of the dais, holding the face of Elain Archeron in her hands. Lucien could see the cascade of honey blonde hair trailing to her waist and the blush colored gown hugging her frame. He was grateful to see nothing else—from behind, Elain was exactly his type.

“Lucien,” his mother breathed, smiling over Elain’s head to look at him. “You made it.”

Lucien swept into a deep bow, pausing at Elain’s shoulder. The smell of jasmine and honey slammed into him, heady and sweet like Spring itself. Lucien kept his eyes on his mother, well aware somewhere behind him, Arina was still watching.

“Lucien is our most skilled emissary,” his mother told Elain affectionately. Her praise filled him with warmth only for a moment, replaced in the next second with cold dread. Why was she telling Elain this?

Elain tilted her head to look up at him. Lucien couldn’t breathe fully as he faced her. What had happened to the chubby cheeked child he remembered? The sniveling baby with the big, watery eyes? Elain was, without a doubt, the most beautiful female he’d ever seen in his entire life. Lucien gave himself permission to stare just for a heartbeat. She still had those big, brown eyes though they were somehow more appealing in that soft, heart shaped face she had. Pouty, pink lips were curved into a strained smile, as if looking at him pained her.

Lucien’s gaze swept toward her small, pert breasts, pressed against the top of her dress before looking back at his mother with a lazy smile.

“Will Lord Lucien be taking me to Summer, then?” Elain asked with a soft, lilting voice. Lucien’s gaze snapped to his father, reclining in his chair with an easy, amused grace.

“Yes. I trust no one more than my son. For the year you’re with us, Lucien will be your instructor.”

Lucien’s stomach bottomed out. “Will she be accompanying me on my various trips?” That was going to cause him problems, given how Lucien liked to obtain gossip from the other courts. Pillow talk was his best weapon—outside of his cock, of course.

“If you’re able.”

There was a flash of warning on his fathers face that kept Lucien silent. Elain glanced up at Lucien one last time before beaming at his mother. “I’m so grateful for the opportunity.”

As his mother began to walk Elain out, intending to give her a tour, Lucien made his way toward his father.

“Don’t,” Helion warned, holding up his hand to silence Lucien. “This will be good for you.”

Lucien plopped down on his mothers throne. “What is the point of this? Spring doesn’t allow female emissaries or politicians. Am I training her to be someone’s well-informed wife?”

Helion smothered a smile. “Between you and I, Killian has made his intentions toward Elain very plain—”

“Good, then let her marry him—”

“And your mother thinks Elain was meant for more. She wants more, and I think as long as she’s willing to fight for it, we shouldn’t stand in her way. What could be more terrible than being forced into a marriage you don’t want?”

Lucien groaned. Of course his parents were thinking that. Of course they’d draw parallels between spoiled Elain and Lucien’s lovely mother. “They are hardly the same.”

“Be kind,” his father urged. “Don’t push her in the pool—”

“It was an accident!” he hissed, causing his father to laugh.

“I know it was. Your mother knows it. It’s a year of a very, very long life, and I trust you will set her up with enough foundational knowledge and your connections in the other courts that, should she decide to leave, she isn’t forced to go back to Spring.”

“And if she wants to stay?”

His father’s smile told Lucien he very much hoped she did. “Well. You can’t be emissary forever.”

Lucien scowled. “I’ll do as you ask. I won’t enjoy it, though.”

Lucien didn’t turn as he strode out of the throne room.

And he ignored his father's booming laughter trailing behind him.

#elucien #elain x lucien #elucien fanfic #you asked for an elucien long fic #here you go

175 notes · View notes

astaraels · 9 days

Note

perhaps fem gallavich wedding?

(this ran away from me omg but it was too much fun to write thank you so much for the prompt)

The morning had started off well enough. Ian took her meds—and subsequently informed everyone who asked that yes, she'd taken her meds—and kicked her brothers out of her and Mickey's room so they could fuck in peace before they had to get dressed. What was the point of an afternoon wedding if you couldn't get one last round in before you made it official, after all? Mickey's hair was a wild mess, and she grinned when she came, a sight that Ian never tired of. But then there was loud shouting coming from down the hall, Sandy yelling something about a fire? And Ian knew Sandy well enough that she didn't get worked up for nothing.

She tossed Mickey some boxer shorts as she grabbed her own robe and tied it on, shoving her feet into a pair of Debbie's shoes that were by the door. The two of them rushed down the stairs to follow Debbie and Sandy out the door, Carl right on their heels. In the distance they could see black smoke rising up into the air. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—Ian couldn't believe it, her heart sank with despair, but they had to find out—

There was no mistaking it, though. Once their haphazard little group made it to the wedding venue, they knew exactly what had happened. As if the graffiti on one of the few standing walls didn't make it completely obvious, anyway. Ian glanced at Mickey, her fiancée's hair a wild tangle of dark waves around her face, a furious scowl crossing her features. "Motherfucker," she muttered. And then she stormed off, too-big combat boots pounding against the pavement of the sidewalk.

"Shit, no—Mickey!" Sandy yelled, but Mickey had already taken off down the street and back toward the house. Carl and Debbie both looked at Ian, who nodded at her siblings and raced off after Mickey. But unfortunately the other woman had enough of a head start that she was already out of sight. By the time they got back to the house, Ian could see Mickey storming out the back door, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Terry Milkovich!" she screamed, her shotgun in both hands as she stormed down the back stairs. "You fucking pig fucker, I'm gonna goddamn blow your brains out-!" But before she got any further, Sandy tackled her cousin to the ground, the two of them grappling for the gun. "Goddammit, Sandy, let me go-! I'm gonna fuckin'-!"

But then Ian caught up to them, Carl and Debbie still trailing behind; Mickey and Sandy fought like two junk yard dogs scrambling for a scrap of meat, and as soon as Ian got there the shotgun went off, the bullet thankfully only breaking through the back window of the broken down van.

"Mickey, calm the fuck down!" Ian shouted, trying to grab for the gun. Instead she yelped in surprise and pain as Mickey's teeth clamped on her wrist. "Fuck!" Out of instinct, she punched Mickey right in the eye, then pinned the other woman's wrists hard to the ground. "You fuckin' done now?!"

"Gonna make me hit you again? Or we done?" Ian demanded.

"Fuck you, Gallagher!" Mickey snarled, glaring at Ian. Her blue eyes blazed with barely controlled anger, but she nodded, going lax in Ian's grip. As soon as Ian let go, however, Mickey flipped her over and reached for the gun again. Ian hit her in the jaw this time, and the punch seemed to knock the fight out of her this time.

It took a moment, but Mickey finally nodded, her head falling back against the grass. With a relieved sigh, Ian threw the shotgun to Carl, who caught it easily. "Go get your cuffs," she told her brother, "and put this thing away." He nodded and hurried back into the house.

—

"Why is Mickey handcuffed?" Lip asked, as if it was an afterthought. Mickey took a long drink from her can of beer as she sat on top of the washer, as if the handcuffs were only a mild—and temporary—inconvenience.

Ian sighed in frustration. "She wants to kill her dad."

"Will kill her dad," Mickey corrected her. "I'm gonna get that shotgun, go to his house, and blow that fucker's brains all over the goddamn kitchen wall—maybe then he'll finally leave us the fuck alone."

Debbie scoffed as she hung up from the call she'd been making. "Or you'll get arrested again and you and Ian will be getting married in prison, ever think about that?" Ian gave her little sister a grateful look; Debbie knew her worst fear was Mickey behind bars again. But Mickey only scowled at Debbie's words and took another drink from her beer can.

"Look—Ian. Ian, look at me." Mickey set the can down next to her. "I love you. I love you, but that bastard is never gonna let me be happy. You know he won't. We find another place to do this, who's to say he won't find out from someone yappin' and come burn it down again?! I want to marry you—more than anything—but this is fucked. We are fucked. Just call it a goddamn loss."

Before Ian could reply to that, Debbie shook her head and slammed her phone on the kitchen counter. "No!" she yelled, eyes blazing with fury. "No, this is bullshit—you're just gonna give up? Let hate win? Let Terry and his nazi friends beat you?"

Mickey shook her head, her nose stud glinting in the light. "Yes-"

"Fuck, no!" Debbie said, smacking her hand on the counter by her phone. "We're not giving up! There's gotta be another place that can take us in a hurry."

"It's done! It's over!" Mickey started to say, but Debbie shook her head. After all this time, Ian thought, they should know better than to try and hold Debbie back when she was on the warpath. Mickey might be an immovable object, but Debbie was definitely an unstoppable force.

"We're not gonna let hate win, you dumbass!" Debbie said. "We're Gallaghers! And if you're gonna be part of this family, you better woman up! We're gonna white trash this shit!"

—

Three hours and a whirlwind of chaos later, Ian zipped up the back of Mickey's dress as the other woman held her hair up out of the way. Debbie and Vee had fixed Ian's unruly mess of ginger hair into an updo, but Mickey had let Sandy give her a fishtail braid. Ian touched Mickey's hand and said, "Okay, you're good," and Mickey let her long, dark hair falling down the middle of her back. Without realizing what she was doing, Ian reached out to trace her fingers along Mickey's braid, smiling softly even when Mickey turned back around.

"Damn," Ian said, her breath catching in her throat. "You...are one ugly fucking bitch."

Mickey grinned, a flush crossing her cheeks. Her makeup was just the way it always looked, winged eyeliner and dark purple eyeshadow to cover the slowly forming black eye that made Ian wince to look at. Things would be different from now on—they were done hurting each other.

"Yeah, well, at least I don't have to hide in a coffin until the sun goes down," Mickey shot back, fighting back a laugh. She tilted her head up and looked at Ian, nothing but love and caring in her beautiful blue eyes. Ian thought her heart would just about burst with how full it felt, just from looking at this woman that she was about to pledge the rest of her life to.

"Ready to do this, Milkovich?" she said, cupping Mickey's cheek with her hand.

Mickey nodded, leaning into the touch. "Damn straight, Gallagher."

—

"I, Mykhaila, take you, Lillian, to be my lawfully wedded wife. For better or worse, for richer or poorer-" Mickey paused for a moment, then continued, "in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live."

Ian stared at her for a long moment, unable to keep the smile off of her face as she said, "I, Ian, take you, Mickey, to be my lawfully wedded wife—for better or worse, for richer or poorer-" and here she squeezed Mickey's hands, remembering that awful day so many years ago, knowing why Mickey had hesitated at this part in her own vows, "in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live."

The minister beamed at them both, saying, "Now that Mykhaila and Lillian have pledged themselves to each other, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you as wife, and wife."

Ian looked at her, a little stunned. "Now?"

The woman nodded, grinning. "You may kiss the bride."

Ian pulled Mickey into her arms, closing her eyes and kissing her wife—her wife—as their friends and family clapped and cheered all around them. Mickey's lipstick was smeared a bit when they finally pulled away, and Ian could feel herself tearing up as she cupped Mickey's face in her hands.

"I love you so much," Ian murmured, and Mickey tapped her tattooed knuckles against Ian's collarbone.

"You're such a sap, Gallagher," she teased, voice thick the way it got when Mickey was trying not to cry. They took each other's hand, walking back down the aisle and past all their guests. Ian hugged Debbie close with one arm as she passed her sister, briefly clapping her free hand with Carl's, and she and Mickey raised their entwined hands together as they walked back down the aisle.

"Glad we made it in time," came a familiar voice from their left, and Ian thought she was dreaming when she saw Mandy and Fiona standing there, both of them grinning from ear to ear.

"Mandy?" Mickey said with disbelief.

"Fiona?" Ian said, almost at the same time.

Fiona threw her arms around Ian, and Ian couldn't help bury her face in her big sister's shoulder. "I'm so happy for you two." Mandy had pulled Mickey into a hug, as well, and it said something about the day that Mickey didn't even try to fight it.

"Glad you made it, bitch," Ian heard her wife say, and Mandy laughed.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

————

for reference, Ian and Mickey's dresses <3

#fem!gallavich #leinth writes fic #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #rule 63 all the things #gallavich wedding #shameless fanfiction #shameless

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