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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months

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Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader

Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?

Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.

Word count: 7k.

Warnings: Some injury detail.

“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”

Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.

Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.

Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.

“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”

“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”

“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”

“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”

“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.

He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.

Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.

He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.

Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?

He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.

“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”

Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”

“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”

“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”

“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”

“I’m not saying that, Az—”

“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”

“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”

“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”

“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”

Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.

He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.

And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”

“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”

Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”

“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”

Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.

“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”

As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”

That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.

Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”

Az says again, “Fuck you.”

Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”

“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.

“Where are you going?” Az asks.

“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”

He has no idea how right he is.

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It starts with the fire going out. Always.

The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.

You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.

Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.

Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.

Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.

But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.

“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.

“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”

It.

“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”

“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”

You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.

Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”

The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”

You do not move.

“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”

They laugh at that.

You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”

He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.

“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”

If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.

“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”

“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”

There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.

“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”

You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.

You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.

You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.

“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”

And then they begin hacking at your wings.

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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.

You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.

The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.

“Will she live?” Your father asks.

“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”

“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”

“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”

“I will do with my child as I see fit.”

“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”

Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”

“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”

Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.

Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”

No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.

You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.

Bury the body.

Bury the—

Your body lurches up.

Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.

The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.

They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.

You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.

“You were shouting in your sleep again.”

You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.

“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”

“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”

“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”

Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.

The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.

“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”

Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—

“I’m going, I’m going.”

The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.

Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”

“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”

“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”

She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.

“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”

She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”

You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.

Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.

And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.

But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.

You need to be away from them. To be on your own.

“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”

The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”

“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”

“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”

“Of course I will.” No.

She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.

But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.

“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”

“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”

She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.

You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.

You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.

So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.

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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.

The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.

He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—

“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”

Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.

Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”

Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.

The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.

See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.

Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.

It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.

It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.

Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.

“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”

Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”

There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”

At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.

“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”

“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.

It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.

But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.

Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”

No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.

He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”

He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.

Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”

“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.

Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”

“Listen, Cassian—”

“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”

All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.

All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.

But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.

She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.

“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”

Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.

Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.

“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”

Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”

Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.

“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”

“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.

Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.

“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”

True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.

She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.

So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?

This is fucking ridiculous.

She can’t be left to live like this.

“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”

Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.

Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”

Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.

“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”

Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”

“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”

The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.

But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.

“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.

She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.

“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”

Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”

“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”

Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.

But Az seems oblivious.

“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”

“She wouldn’t—”

“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.

Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”

Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”

Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”

“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”

“Cassian, that is enough—”

“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”

Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.

“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.

He barks a laugh. “No chance.”

“Kaeda just said she’d help—”

“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”

Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—

“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”

Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”

“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.

Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”

Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.

Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.

And then there were two.

Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.

“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”

A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”

“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”

Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.

“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”

She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.

This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.

You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.

And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?

These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.

You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.

You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.

No.

You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—

But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.

“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”

If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”

“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”

But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.

“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.

But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.

Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.

“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”

You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”

“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”

You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”

“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”

“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”

He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”

“No.”

“What? Why?”

“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”

“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”

“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”

You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”

“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”

“Why?”

“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”

It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.

Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”

“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”

Azriel stops short. Stares at you.

You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.

You’re not sure you can do that anymore.

Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”

“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”

Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.

You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.

And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.

“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”

You fold your arms. “Fine.”

“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”

“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”

“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”

You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.

So you say nothing. You just shrug again.

He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.

You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.

And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”

He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.

And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.

azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd

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bhaalble · 5 months

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Back on my Wyll script doctor because I was talking about it with a friend. Specifically imagining a version of Wyll's big Character Choice that felt like it had some actual teeth.

Imagine a world where instead of a cartoon evil hot lady Mizora and Wyll's relationship actually had some complexity to it and like. some genuine push and pull which gives him temptation to stay. I just keep thinking about this 17 year old who his whole life wanted more than anything to be a hero, who got his chance to do something heroic and selfless and save the city from certain doom, and his reward is getting kicked out because he did it the "wrong way".

Imagine if instead of forcing his silence, Mizora instead comforted him. How unbelievably cruel of your father! Well...since you've nowhere else to go, why not stick with me? We make a pretty good team, as it turns out, and I can get you a whole list of monsters who need killing. Plenty of devils and demons loose in your world targetting all sorts of innocents. Our interests can keep aligning, and you get a place to sleep when you need it.

Wyll makes his peace with it, because he has nothing and no one. And Mizora's not GOOD maybe, not by Ulder Ravengard's definition. But she's fun. She delights in his growth. And she does certainly keep direct him at greater evils, devils who really do need killing. And if she spies on his every waking moment, well, she worries. If she sends him after the occasional innocent, well, she had people who she has to answer to as well. She's a devil, how much can he fault her for her nature? She's always seemed like she knew where the line was...

Karlach (and the player) express their doubts, of course, but for act one at least he's defensive. Yes, she punished him and he hates it and its miserable but....he was in breach of contract! She's NEVER gone outside its bounds, she's always stuck very closely to their agreement. Wyll, who wants so badly to trust others and believe everyone has the chance for good, can't find it in him to believe the worst even of a devil.

And Mizora is FOND of Wyll, loves him even in her way. As a cherished pet, as a trusted tool, as a best-laid plan. Never enough to choose his own well-being over her own agenda, never enough to see him as his own person. He's her little project, the long shot noble brat she gambled on when Tiamat decided to get too big for her britches. And it paid off! Wyll always pays off, currying her all the favor from Zariel she so desperately craves. And who are you, or anyone, to come between them? She's treated him well. As she's quick to remind him, she wanted him when no one else did, aided him while the rest of his city slept snug in their beds. And if Ulder Ravengard didn't want a son with a whiff of infernal, then do you REALLY think he'd want you with lovely horns and Avernus in your blood?

You discover his father's been taken. Beyond igniting a lot of old feelings, it brings up a question of succession. Of course, Florrick isnt giving up on him, but if not...there aren't currently any likely candidates to take over the Flaming Fists. Not trustworthy ones. Florrick will take the position, but everyone knows in the back of his mind Ulder never really stopped planning for it to be Wyll. With the city in chaos and a cult army on the rise, they may need an answer sooner rather than later. Wyll feels the call of the Gate, but knows just as well that Mizora wouldn't want him to return in such an official capacity.

For the first time ever the leash starts to chafe in a way he can't keep pushing through.

Act 2 rolls around. Mizora sends up the Warlock signal. After potentially some encouragement from the player, Wyll (NOT THE PLAYER. I DONT KNOW WHY ITS THE PLAYER IN THE GAME ITS WEIRD) hesitantly proposes that maybe, if he does this....they can do a renegotiation of his contract. Not break it, he assures her quickly! Just....reopen the terms, take a looks at the agreement. Maybe discuss an exit ramp? After all....I mean, neither of us truly thought I'd be doing this forever, did we?

Based on Mizora's reaction. Yeah she did.

But fine. She agrees. And Wyll's not mad that it turns out you're rescuing her, not a nameless "operative" for Zariel. He would've done that on his own had she asked. Its the fact that she apparently didn't feel like being honest, that she let him fret and worry about potentially handing Zariel back some runaway for basically no reason. Its the fact that she came here to check in on the cult that abducted his FATHER just to see if Zariel could make any use of them. And its the fact that she seems surprised and annoyed that ANY of this bothers him.

All this builds, of course, to the final confrontation. The basic elements are the same. Mizora outside the coronation (this time needling at Wyll, "I'll be at camp if you're not too high and mighty to consort with the likes of me anymore"), Ulder tadpoled and fighting it. Mizora makes her offer. I can end the contract now, and you're free to go running after daddy (who won't want you btw! not like I do!). You'll lose all your powers, all my aid, all those juicy quests to chase down the greatest monsters in the hells. Take on your father's job and settle in for a life of misery and compromise and only doing as much good as the nobles will let you. Or: pledge yourself to me, eternally. I'll give you a boatload of new powers and eternal life to boot, so long as you serve as my sword and shield.

From there I think three endings branch out, and with it three classes for Wyll. If he stays with Mizora, accepts a relationship where he will never be an equal or a free agent in exchange for the affirmation he wants so badly from his father, he remains a Warlock, with some juiced stats and extra spell slots, along with shiny new gear. If he pledges to follow in his father's footsteps, he instead becomes an Oath of Devotion paladin, pledging himself in service to Tyr, if with a sense of doomed finality. The Blade of Frontiers is officially retired, and along with it any identity he has outside of being his father's son. Or the third path, break the contract without taking his father's role. He will look for his father, yes, but whether or not you find him he's going back to his roots, travelling around to do some good in the world (as the Blade of Frontiers) or kicking ass in the Hells with Karlach (as the Blade of Avernus). In this timeline he becomes a fighter, with a default preference for Eldritch Knight.

What's important: if he breaks his contract then Mizora is NOT hanging around camp. She will leave in a fury, accidentally bound by her own word to withdraw her influence completely if he breaks his contract. She may still approach the player some night to sleep with the player, framed for high approval/romanced players and her trying to take something back from Wyll. But Wyll will have to learn how to define himself without her breathing down his neck, without keeping her happy dominating his every thought. Its nervewracking, and even lonesome at times...but its freedom. And, perhaps, that's worth a little bit of lonesomeness.

#long post #again i want to be clear because i think wyll fans are a little understandably defensive of him #this is not about wanting wyll to be a bad person #its about wanting him to have an arc that parallels the rest of the companions #and be more firmly centered on HIS feelings and choices #ive done my best to preserve wylls canon temperament here #just give the circumstances more teeeth #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #wyll ravengard #mizora #ulder ravengard

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killerpancakeburger · 5 months

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Outpace the dawn

Gif by @silverformymonsters

Summary: BG3 Spawn ending Fix It fic! Because I refuse to let him deal with the sunlight alone.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Warnings/tags: SPOILERS obvsly, angst/comfort, non canon compliant.

Words count: 936 words.

A/N: It should be Gender Neutral, but if I fcked up since I tend to write from my pov, you can tell me and I'll correct it.

Yes the title is from that Hozier song. It got me thinking how Astarion would need to outpace the dawn from now on.

Astarion’s voice cut through the silence that followed your last battle, as your little group was gathering on a pontoon.

“So, what’s next for us?”

You had been thinking about what was to come for a while, actually. Probably longer than any of your companions have. Some might argue that it wasn’t the time for that, that you should have been completely focused on defeating the Netherbrain. But you couldn’t help it; it was a matter of life and death - Astarion’s life and death. Or rather, undeath and death. Since you’ve known that the brain was within reach, it had become an omnipresent apprehension in your mind.

The slaughter of the brain sounded the death knell of the tadpoles, and their disappearance inevitably meant that Astarion’s resistance to the sun would vanish like it never existed. Like nature rightfully reasserting itself by getting rid of this aberration that had been a vampire walking in the sun in the first place.

This knowledge has been haunting you for days and nights now. It was your first thought when you woke up and your last when you fell asleep. A knot of dread had settled inside your stomach, making it hard to fall asleep and to interact normally with the source of your worries. And right now, following Astarion’s question, the knot in your guts got even tighter, even more painful.

At any moment, any second from now on, your vampire lover would catch fire as surely as straw in the summer.

It was fine. You planned. You prepared for this. You procured a large, thick, hooded coat that was guaranteed to block the sunrays. It was even imbued with magic that made it impossible to tear, pierce, or rip in any way. It hadn’t been easy to acquire, but Astarion didn’t need to know that.

You were on the lookout for any sign of burning, wound as tightly as a spring while still trying to appear normal to the others.

“The world is our oyster, and she has many pearls we can choose from.” claimed Astarion, blissfully unaware of his fate.

He illustrated his remarks by spreading his arms far apart with vigor. The genuine excitement, the happiness in his voice almost made you sick to your stomach. Astarion’s displays of authentic joy were few and far in between, and this one would end as soon as it started. As fast as a vampire spawn left in the sun, as a pile of ashes on the ground.

You could barely bear to look at him. You didn’t have the heart to remind him of his imminent doom. He obviously had forgotten about it for the time being, and while the cruel reality was taking up almost all the space in your brain, like blaring alarms, you’d be damned if you took away from him his last, his only instants of light and warmth, of complete freedom, by reminding him. No Cazador, no tadpole, no mind control, no deadly sunlight, no slave and no master. Just an immense ocean of liberty, intoxicating, vertiginous.

“I honestly don’t mind what we do, once we get to- Ow!”

You instantly straightened up at the sound, like a wild animal who picked up the sound of an upcoming danger. For a terrible second, there was a twisted part of you who felt relieved. Finally, your gnawing, agonizing wait was coming to an end. Then, swiftly, the relief disappeared, flooded with your concern for Astarion.

“What the- Oh no. Oh Gods.”

Already his hands were fuming, his beautiful pale face sprinkled with silververy cracks like delicate porcelain. He had always looked more like a piece of art than a living being after all. The frantic panic in his voice was like a punch to the chest. In all your battles and struggles together, you had never seen him so horrified. Even against Cazador. Even a True Vampire had to yield to the Sun.

He threw you a harrowing look, like he was bidding you goodbye before bolting. As if you were going to leave him to deal with this alone. Already you were rushing towards him, the life-saving coat in hands. You wrapped it around him as fast as your hands would allow, put the hood on, and gently grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him so his covered back would take the blunt of the light.

“There we go, you explained softly. This will block the sun.”

“You’ve got this, and I’ve got you.” you added, mirroring his own words.

You were smiling sadly, trying to be supportive, to not add to his burden. The look in his eyes was hard to describe, an intense blend of heartbreak, vulnerability, and gratefulness.

“Well… It was… it was nice while it lasted.” he managed to articulate, his voice breaking like he was about to cry.

You could feel your heart break in response like an echo.

The magic sunproof coat was in no way a solution. Barely a bandage on a sinking ship. You had to get out of the sun, quickly.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you some shadow, uh?”

Your encouraging smile was as fragile as a spiderweb. You could feel it teetering on the edge of an abyss.

Astarion simply nodded, like he didn’t trust his voice anymore. It was fine. He was already expressing so much through his gaze.

You put your hand on the small of his back, barely applying any pressure, threw a telling look over your shoulder at your other companions, and you both started your search for protective darkness between the walls of Baldur’s Gate.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion fanfic #fanfic #fic #bg3 fanfiction #yes i know i said i was doing rolan - lol - but i already written half of this one so i might as well finish it right?

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 1 year

Text

I am his, and he is mine

Summary: You’re married off to Ser Harwin Strong by your lord father’s designs, and the prospect of a marriage consummation terrifies you.

Notes: idk man I just need more Harwin Breakmybones smut. Harwin obviously isn’t with our queen Rhae Rhae in this. Also, pretending not to know what we do abt Larys here.

Warnings: virgin!reader, reader is intimidated by Harwin, first time, reader is extremely innocent, vaginal sex, oral sex (f!receiving), Harwin loves eating punani

Masterlist | requests are OPEN! | hmu to be added to a taglist!!

Marrying his bride the day he met her was never what he wanted. Harwin didn’t consider himself a romantic, but he thought it cruel to be bound to someone you didn’t know for the rest of his life. It was more unfair to you, being a woman and forbidden from seeking out others for love.

His father had meant well with this marriage. Apparently, your father was a childhood friend, and you the oldest daughter of a great house. Though Lord Lyonel wasn’t ambitious, he was loyal to his friends, and the king, who encouraged the match. So in a whirlwind of affairs, the betrothal had been arranged by ravens, and the marriage planned.

You had married in the sept of King’s Landing earlier this day, and though Harwin had written you a letter to calm your nerves, the first time he got any impression of you was when your father led you to the altar.

He felt sorry for you. Whatever dreams you had held for the future had been crushed the moment the septon bound you in marriage. And on top of that, he wasn’t sure if you were scared of him or not. His reputation was true to his character, and next to his wide frame, almost every woman looked frail.

And now, while the wedding feast was in full swing, he saw your hands shake as you attempted to cut your food. He tried to distract himself, looking around the room and attempting to take his mind off of the fact that his lady wife seemed to find him unpleasant.

King Viserys was sitting next to his father, leaving Queen Alicent to put on an icy mask. She was better at hiding it than his wife. Perhaps because she had been in King’s Landing for longer. Princess Rhaenyra, on the other hand, was deep in conversation with Lady Laena. The two of them had grown closer since the rift between Rhaenyra and Alicent, and if Ser Harwin was not mistaken, the Queen looked almost jealous.

Prince Daemon was currently returned from his latest exile, trying to rile up Otto Hightower. Judging from the strain in the man’s jaw, the Prince was quite successful in his venture.

Still, it was his wife that seemed the tensest in the room. The new lady Strong, and yet, you seemed to be anything but. From what he had heard from his father, you liked to read and was very well educated, but beyond that only quiet. You did not ride, or hunt, or keep an army of ladies around her.

For the latter, he was grateful, but for the others… It seemed you didn’t have anything in common. Harwin was as educated as a future lord needed to be, but he preferred to train and hunt. The first time he even heard you speak outside of her vows was to his brother.

“A gift, for the bride.” He said, offering you a book. At that, your face lit up.

“Thank you, Lord Larys.”

“I hear you tried to become a Maester once?” he asked, and you blushed.

“I was five and had not yet realized the Citadel accepted neither women nor children.”

Harwin smiled to himself. It seemed that, at the very least, you had some spirit. When his brother had left, he tried to find something to talk to you about.

“So, what topics interest you?” he tried.

“History and medicine.” you replied curtly.

“Yes, I imagine Aegon’s conquest is an interesting read.” He said. You tried to suppress a smile at that, and Harwin raised a brow.

“Is it not?” he asked.

“Forgive me, my lord, but every child is told the story of his conquest over and over. The histories of Old Valyria before the Doom and Nymeria’s conquest are much more interesting, especially since so much source material has been lost.” you said.

He could tell that you weren’t asked about these things very often, the words spilling out of your mouth so quickly.

“What about you?” you asked.

“Hunting and fighting.” He replied.

“Does that not get boring after a while?”

“It is to me what reading is to you.” Harwin said. He knew you were from the Westerlands, where people spoke more eloquently, and though he was from the Riverlands and had no use for flowery words, he tried for you.

Your silence returned when dessert was served. You dreaded the bedding, and Harwin didn’t think he had seen many brides that were as terrified of it as you.

When it was announced that the bedding would begin, you turned even paler. Before the lords attending could swoop in to grab you, Harwin quickly scooped you up into his arms. Wordlessly, he left, as the crowd let out disappointed shouts of protest.

He carried you all the way to their new, shared chambers, setting you down on the bed. Turning around, Harwin grabbed the pitcher of wine to fill up their glasses. You would need it for your nerves.

As he turned back around, he could see you lying on the bed, the skirt of your wedding dress hiked up to your thighs and staring at the ceiling stiff as a board. He would have laughed at the comical sight, if he hadn’t felt sorry for you.

Instead, he sat at the edge of the bed, gently taking your hand.

“What were you told about the bedding?” he asked.

“My cousin told me it was painful, but my duty.” you replied.

“Sit up.” Harwin said, and you scrambled to follow his words, pulling the skirt back down.

“Your cousin must have a horrible husband.” He concluded.

“They- they do not value each other much.” you said carefully.

“Beddings don’t have to be painful.” Harwin began. He’d never been a woman’s first before, but he wasn’t inexperienced by any means.

“Oh.” Was all you said to that. It sounded more like a sigh of relief than a question.

“Did you not say you studied medicine?”

“The bedding was… seen as unseemly for me. It was forbidden.” you replied.

“I’ll be gentle, I won’t hurt you.” Harwin promised. Still, when he tried to come closer to you, you leaned away from him, trying to keep the distance. As if a kiss would kill you.

With a sigh, Harwin grabbed the dagger from his belt and your eyes widened even more.

“What…?” you asked.

“I won’t force you.” He replied simply, rolling his sleeve back.

“No.” you said, grabbing his wrist. It was the first time you touched him. “I- We have to someday. And I’d like to learn. I need to make my father proud.”

“Your father? This is about you.” Harwin tried. You gave him a half-hearted smile, and Harwin felt that he wouldn’t become friends with his father-in-law.

“If you want me to bed you, you should start by kissing me first.” He said, and you nodded.

“Will I be your first?” he asked. You blushed, lowering her gaze, and Harwin carefully tipped her face up.

“Good. Less pressure.” He joked.

“I suppose so.” you replied. “I promise, it wasn’t while we were betrothed.”

“And if it was, I wouldn’t blame you. Whoever he, or she, was they got lucky.”

You smiled at that, blushing due to his compliment rather than shame. With a determined look in your eyes, you put a hand on his face, pressing your lips to his. It wasn’t the chaste kiss they had shared in the sept, and it wasn’t heated with passion, but it was more than the trembling leaf of a woman that had sit next to him at her own banquet.

Harwin deepened the kiss carefully, his hands finding your intricate braids, impossible to tangle into. So he held you by the small of her back instead, kissing you until you broke apart for air.

“That was… dizzying.” you said. Your cheeks were flushed pink, and your pupils had grown dark, and Harwin could feel desire begin to grow for you. Carefully, he seated himself against the cushions, sitting you down in front of him, and beginning to take out the pins in your updo.

While he worked on the tight braidwork, he began to kiss up and down your neck, careful not to go too low too fast. You let out a satisfied sigh, clapping your hand against your mouth afterwards.

“They’re all gone by now. We were too boring, I suppose.” Harwin joked, and you nodded.

“You don’t have to keep quiet.” He encouraged. “It tells me whether I’m doing the right thing.”

“Oh?” you asked.

“Trust me.”

When he was done, your hair fell down your back in soft waves. Harwin briefly wondered if it was because of the braids, or if your hair was always like this.

Then, he moved onto your wedding dress. It was laced in the back, gold and cream embroidery hiding the strings, and you began to tense when he opened them.

“It’ll be more comfortable if you can breathe properly.” Harwin said, slowly pulling the stiff part of the dress over your head. The long skirt followed, until you were left in a thin shift. It looked like it was meant to entice him, barely transparent enough to see your shape, but nothing beyond that.

Harwin took his time laying the dress over a chair in the room, returning with the pitcher of wine. When he offered to refill your glass, you shook your head.

“I’ll be drunk then. I want to remember for the next time.”

“Already planning ahead?” Harwin teased.

“I don’t know. In case this time doesn’t get me pregnant.”

“You do know there’s more to this than getting pregnant, right?” he asked. You raised a brow, as if you did not believe him. “It’s… it’s supposed to be fun as well.”

“Can we start with kissing again?” you asked shyly. Harwin leaned over, kissing you softly. Your hands were unsure, cupping his face, roaming around his hair and awkwardly landing on his arms. Harwin readjusted them, putting one on his jaw and the other on his shoulder the way he liked it.

He really tried to hold back, but when you let another whine slip, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. You squealed, surprised, but once you were there, you continued with more enthusiasm than before.

Breaking the kiss, Harwin saw that your lips had become a little swollen. Mindlessly, he tucked a strand of hair back to where it had fallen out of place.

“I’m ready.” you said, lying back against the pillows with a look of determination on your face. Harwin snorted.

“You are not. If I do it now, it’ll hurt. Have you ever even touched yourself?”

Your mouth fell open at that, as if he was accusing you of fucking a horse, and your blush took ahold of your ears as well.

“I’m only asking to make you comfortable.”

“Never… inside.” you managed.

Harwin nodded, making his way down your body until he reached the hem of your shift. Gently, he began to pull it up and automatically, your legs crossed over.

When he tried to pry them open, you pulled away.

“I have had my maidenhead inspected.” you said, voice high-pitched.

“I wasn’t inspecting anything. Just… trust me on this.” Harwin asked.

It took you a moment, but eventually, you opened your legs back up, allowing him access. Harwin knew better than to stare (for now), and began kissing the inside of your thighs, making his way towards your cunt. When he finally tasted it, he felt like he was ready to die – until his lady wife scrambled backwards, trying to gather her bearings.

“This is wrong. It’s sinful.” you whispered.

“Not really. Asked my septon when I was a boy, and also, it feels good.” Harwin replied nonchalantly.

“I’ll take you by your word.” you said seriously.

You lied back down, and Harwin held your thighs, trying to make a squeeze somehow feel reassuring before he started again, slowly lapping up the wetness your cunt had produced. He could feel you writhe beneath him, but better yet, he could hear you moan.

Muffled pants and cries reached him, spurring him on. Very cautiously, he pushed in one finger, continuing to lick your clit to ease the way. It went in easier than he thought, and so, Harwin crooked it to make you feel even better.

He wanted to be your first in this as well, and he didn’t care if that was greedy.

He had to push you down by the stomach when your back arched. Harwin chuckled to himself as he worked the finger inside you, knowing exactly what he was doing.

After a while, he could feel your body begin to shake, and your legs wrapped around his head, pushing him down. He almost felt proud of you, even as he began to run out of air, but Harwin kept going, until you came, licking you like a starving man.

When you went limp under his touch, Harwin dared to come up from under your shift.

“And?” he asked.

“Whatever that was… I think I caught a glimpse of the Seven Heavens.” you sighed.

“You… came.” He replied, half-asking.

“Yeah. It was wonderful.”

“Did you never?”

“No. I didn’t dare.” you said.

“That’s a pity, to go so many years of your life without pleasure.”

“I see that now.” you quipped, and Harwin laughed with you.

You sat in silence for a while, you leaning against his shoulder with your eyes closed. Harwin felt that he was hard for you, but he didn’t want to disturb you. He could bed you some other time.

Sated with the knowledge that he had already done this for you, Harwin took off his wedding suit and changed into the long linen trousers that were laid out for him. He could feel your eyes burn into his back. Just to tease you (and not at all to inflate his ego), he flexed his back- and arm muscles.

He settled back into bed, staring at you until you realized you had been caught.

“Does my lady wife approve?”

“Mhm.” you mumbled, shamelessly staring at his chest. “I want another.”

“Another?” Harwin asked.

“Bed me. Make me feel like that again.” you mumbled through gritted teeth. Hesitantly, you let her hand wander under the blankets and into his trousers. His cock was still hard from before, and your eyes widened as you felt the girth of it.

“How will it fit?” you asked.

“You managed two fingers. I’ll help you work it out, but there’ll still be a small stretch.” Harwin tried.

Your hand was still frozen on his dick, so he carefully guided it to stroke him. All word about you rang true, you were a good learner.

Harwin closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall to concentrate on the sensation for a moment, before he stopped you.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Please.” you replied. There was still a residue of nervousness in your eyes, but Harwin wasn’t going to say no to such an invitation.

Slowly, he pulled your shift over her head, tossing it aside carelessly. For a moment, he could only stare, causing you to cross your arms over your chest.

“You’re beautiful.” Harwin said breathlessly. He wasn’t used to being gentle, but Gods be damned, he’d try for you.

Taking his pants off again, he began to kiss your tits, lavishly sucking more bruises into your perfect skin. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him down towards you, and Harwin tried to suppress a groan.

“Good?” you asked.

“Yeah. Really good.” Harwin replied. Your response was to lightly tug his curls, a smirk on your lips. He kissed you again, this time forgetting everything about gentleness and going slowly, swallowing your sounds up with a kiss, desperately holding your face with his hands, dwarfing it in comparison.

His thumb stroked your cheek, trying to convey the awe he already held for you, and you raked your hands through his hair in response. His resolve was melting by the second.

Carefully, he angled his dick up with your cunt, teasing your clit with the tip for a moment, before he slowly sank into you. One of your hands landed on his hips, and Harwin froze.

“Are you alright?” he asked. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, before you nodded.

“Just need a moment.” you managed. Excruciatingly slowly, Harwin sank in further, waiting for you to adjust, until he was fully inside you.

“Can I…?” Harwin began. You nodded, and he pulled back, before thrusting forward with as much self-control as he possessed. He expected you to cry out in pain, but instead, you met him with an unabashed moan.

“Fuck.” you panted, before catching yourself.

“I don’t believe you’ve sworn before.” Harwin managed. You opened your mouth to say something, but he thrust again and your answer was swallowed by another moan.

He tried to put all of his newfound devotion into his thrusts, to make you happy. To satisfy you, so that you would not grow to despise him, at the very least in this way.

All of his intentions of being slow and loving disappeared when you began to beg.

“Please, I need more.” you whispered. Even through the dim candlelight, Harwin saw you blush, but who was he to deny you?

So he picked up the pace, his thrusts turning almost brutish. He would have worried for you, if your eyes hadn’t been in the back of your skull, and your nails weren’t digging into his back.

“Fuck, you’re so.. didn’t expect this.” Harwin managed. You gave him a laugh, which immediately turned into a wanton moan under his ministrations.

“My pretty little wife, legs open only for me.” He praised. Harwin felt your legs wrap around his hips, desperate to create more friction, more intensity.

“Only for you.” You repeat, and Harwin can see the change in your expression, from tense to relaxed. Your posture is open to him (in more ways than one) and his heart almost sings at the thought that you might not despise him or be terrified of him after all.

Harwin manages to steady his mind into looking at you, and Gods, you look fucking angelic. Hair splayed out like a halo, mouth parted and face contorted in pleasure, trying so, so hard to keep your long-lost composure. Nothing feels more right than trying to break that composure, to make you melt into his arms even more.

To give up any thought of propriety and be his.

His thoughts run wild, his heart pounding in his chest with crazed abandon and he can feel himself coming close to the edge. He searches for the bundle of nerves between your legs, hoping to make you scream and when he finds it, it works so well he’s worried the entire Red Keep will hear you after all.

Desperately, he begins to rut into you, watching all coherent thoughts disappear from your eyes as he brings you over the edge a second time. Only then does he allow himself to cum, grabbing your hips harshly until he, too, is spent.

Suddenly exhausted, he rolls off of you, lying next to you and only grabbing your hand.

He turns to face you after a while, you doing the same. Your eyes meet and a smile appears on your flushed face.

“My body feels like it’s filled with lead.” You whisper.

“My lady wife. I never knew I could get this lucky.” He replies. Harwin got out of the bed, trying to find a washcloth. For once, you did not ask any questions, eyes closed in bliss. You let him wipe off the remainder of his seed, burrowing into his side as he lies down next to you.

“You are mine.” You whisper, hearing him chuckle at your words.

“Indeed. I swore it before the Seven just this morning.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Ser Harwin.” You sigh.

“So am I, my love.” He replies.

#harwin #harwin strong #ser harwin strong #harwin x reader #ser harwin x reader #harwin strong x reader #ser harwin strong x reader #ser harwin strong fanfic #harwin strong smut #ser harwin breakbones x reader #harwin breakbones x reader #harwin x you #harwin smut #ser harwin x you #harwin strong x y/n #harwin strong fanfic

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cambion-companion · 6 months

Note

could I request for you to write an scenario in which Raphael does not die to Tav nor their party, but in an other similarly humiliating circumstances, and Tav when learning about this desperately goes to save Raphael from his father by bargaining with Mephistopheles? (hilariously in a very sad way, I assume this, is the only moment that Mephistopheles would ever "value" Raphael's life, but then again that is devils for you) and Raphael's confusion at the whole thing, someone taking a terrible bargain to save him, just… because they… like him…??? (bonus points, if Tav still has a crown to willingly give Raphael XD)

It's beat up Raphael hours huh? (also Korilla will be fine)

Hi there love. This turned from a drabble into a oneshot haha

Have fun running to Cania to pick up your wayfaring devil!

Raphael x reader (gn)

Korilla had come to you.

Broker and bruised, battered and bloody. Her long curly hair matted with mud and dried viscous.

“Help him.” Her first words, rasped from a throat raw from screams.

“Korilla!” You caught her weight as her knees buckled, lowering her gently to the ground. The Dwarven woman wasn’t your friend by any means, but she had been your ally. “Who needs my help?” You couldn’t fathom who she might be referring to.

Surely it wasn’t Raphael. It couldn’t possibly be the enigmatic, self-assured cambion.

Korilla’s answering rasp dispelled any doubt. “My master.”

A fog of shock settled over your mind, your hands loosening around Korilla’s shaking form. She whispered the truth into your ear, her bruised lips trailing her blood onto your clammy skin. With fading voice Korilla told of the attack, Raphael’s demise and his imminent doom.

“Portal. Diabolist. Cania.” Korilla’s breaths grew short as she fought valiantly once more against the oncoming black.

“Hold on, Korilla. You’re going to be okay.”

“Save him.” She said again, her eyes slowly glossing over as the life left her broken body.

You cursed. The warlock’s last actions had been to find you in a desperate hope you’d help Raphael before he was consumed by his father. His father who just so happened to be an archdevil. Mephistopheles.

“Little shit could’ve mentioned that.” You grimaced, lowering Korilla’s body to rest upon the cold earth.

You stood, pinching the bridge of your nose as your thoughts whirled and clashed. Not only had the attackers killed Raphael, but they had also looted his house, stealing the Orphic hammer and the only hope you’d had of defeating the Elder Brain.

“Damn it.” You returned to your companions with the news. “Looks like we’re taking a rescue party to hell.”

“Who’s the damsel in distress?” Astarion asked, tilting his head as his red eyes flickered over your blood-flecked form.

“Raphael.”

The plan was to use as much stealth as possible. The vaults of Mephisto had been broken into not long ago, according to Raphael, so it was possible. A direct confrontation with the archdevil himself was out of the question.

The diabolist in Baldur’s Gate took some convincing, but in the end you were able to push enough gold across the counter to seal the deal.

“Very well. Though I warn you, you’ll not return alive or with your souls intact.”

“Yes, yes.” You waved the woman off, her visage reminding you of Korilla. “Believe me, I’ve heard it all before.” Your eyes scanned the musky shop. Do you have anything that will locate a specific fiend?”

With a Locate Creature spell scroll ready in your bag you watched as the diabolist created for you a portal. Ice crystals immediately crusted on the edge of the black abyss, the wind coming from the portal nearly freezing your shoes to the floor.

“Quickly, and remember the disguises!” She ushered you and your party through, the frigid darkness enveloping you with a grim finality.

Through cold halls you’d snuck, invisible fingers cold as death scraping along your back and through your hair as you passed beneath torches of blue flame.

Time lost all meaning here. Your eyes began to play tricks on you. The only thing keeping your mind focused was the spell lighting the edge of your vision with a warm glow, growing brighter as you hurried to where Raphael was being held.

An age, or an hour had passed.

The wrought iron door, so cold to the touch it burned, swung noiselessly inward, admitting you to an octagonal shaped room. On the far wall you saw him, his form dark, chained by one wrist to the wall.

“Raphael.” You hissed, unexplainable relief flooding your frozen veins when his head moved in response.

Your companions waited by the open doorway, keeping watch from the shadows. You snuck as quickly as you could to where Raphael was restrained. His glowing eyes looking down upon you with consternation before recognition slowly dawned across his sharp features.

You held up a hand, silencing him as he opened his mouth. Movement could be heard from outside the prison room. You were running out of time.

“Can you get us out of here if I free you?” You hissed, still keenly aware of the nature of the devil.

Raphael nodded, his tail moving to and fro in agitation. Something about his vitality seemed to be missing, you had never imagined seeing him in such a state. It was unsettling.

The matter of removing the singular shackle proved to be more challenging than you’d thought. Astarion’s lockpicking skills proved futile.

“It’s a magical seal.” Raphael breathed, his voice low yet sharp with anger born of desperation. “Now’s not the time to play the fool.”

You gave him a severe look which he matched right back at you, his eyes sparking flame.

You raised a hand to the ice-covered metal, about to dispel the magic surrounding the lock. “You owe me a favor. A big one. I don’t know yet what I will ask of you, but you will deliver. Understood?”

Raphael’s gaze scorched you for a moment, it was clear he was furious with his current predicament. But he had no choice, and both of you knew it.

He nodded curtly.

You cast your spell.

Raphael’s wrist broke free with the sharp sound of metal splintering. His hand closed tight around your arm, the dungeons of Mephisto melted away as you and your companions were yanked unceremoniously back to the material plane.

At least, your companions were. Deposited non-gently upon the hard ground of your camp.

Raphael kept hold of you. Taking you back to the foyer of his house. The house which still lay in semi ruin from its previous sacking.

He was angry. Each step he took crackled fire and promise of swift vengeance.

“Raphael…” You said hesitantly, following him down into the dining hall. “Raphael, Korilla-”

“Is dead.” Under the glow of firelight, you could properly see the state he was in. You winced when he turned to face you. “I know. Though not as dead as those who dared pillage my home, the fools.”

“Do you know who?” You remained wary as you watched him conjure an armchair and sink down into it.

Raphael ignored your question, he issued orders in the abrasive Infernal tongue, seemingly into thin air. His fingers clicked and a spark of flame licked around them. Unseen servants began bustling around, clearing the debris and wreckage. Setting the House of Hope back in order.

Raphael leveled his gaze upon you. His expression was not unkind, it was calculating. He had underestimated you and overestimated himself. Not a mistake he’d make again.

“Why?” No flowery words, no ado.

“I still need the hammer.” You had the response prepared, having known the question was coming.

“You could have hunted down the thieves without my help.” Raphael narrowed his hellfire eyes. “Why come to my aid?”

“Korilla asked me to. It was her dying wish.” You fidgeted under his piercing presence. “Besides, you’re a useful ally. I still need your help to save the world.”

Raphael arched a brow, unconvinced. “Half-truths are still considered lies, dear. But there are matters I must attend to.” He stood, restless.

“Will your father come for you again once he realizes you’re gone.” The question came before you could stop yourself.

“Concerned for me?” Raphael appraised you, a knowing tilt to his head. “No. He will not.”

You didn’t argue, Raphael was clearly on edge, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

You rubbed circles against your aching temple. “Well, seems we have some thieves to track down. A hammer to retrieve.”

Raphael looked as though he was biting back a sharp retort. He chewed on his words, looking you over. “Yes.” He growled, infernal fire flickering off his form. “You may watch as I peel their souls from the writhing mortal flesh.”

In an unexpected move, Raphael strode to you and took your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles. His breath hot on your still chilled skin. “You may even assist me, if you so desire.” He straightened.

That was as close to a “thank you” as you were going to get.

You set your jaw grimly. “When do we start?”

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #fanfic #oneshot #bg3 one shot #house of hope #au

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 8 months

Note

Hello my fellow ghost, I have this idea that came to my mind while reading some crack sites, imagine a Creator! Reader irritated, did not sleep well, a lot of work any excuse and goes for a walk to clear his mind, then simply sticks on the little finger with some object.

He shouts: FOR THE NAME OF!!, I AM STAR TO SERIUSLY CONSIDERING ERASE (nation in which it is) OF THE MAP.

Along with another irrelevant insult, then how would they react if some acolyte is near or even better the archons of a certain nation. I don't know, I laughed for myself thinking about this and I do not know if you will also find it funny.

In any case if you do not feel free to ignore or if you want some idea to write the priv is available. Bird says goodbye

Hello, @pajarokujo ! Though I do not see the humor, I can get what you're going for! (Is this how Tighnari and Collei feel when Cyno cracks a joke?— /lh)

I'll just do the Archons for this since I think they'd have the best reactions LOL

Venti, Zhongli, Raiden Ei, Nahida, and Furina Reacting to Reader's Tantrum

You were a little furious. You hadn't mean what you said, but in the attempt to calm yourself down, you jabbed at one part of the map and screamed, "THIS NATION. I WANT IT DECIMATED. PERMANENTLY." forgetting completely that you were the Creator and your booming voice could be practically heard by everyone.

Yes...they're panicking.

(Warning: Might Be OOC & Written Before 4.1 Special Program!)

Venti

Wisp boy is now panicked wisp boy. He ain't gonna stop trying to find a solution to save Mondstadt from your wrath until he drops dead. Quite literally.

Man, this bard is going crazy—all of his ballads have a slight air of panic to it, since everyone practically heard your threat from beyond the heavens.

So when you practically run into Mondstadt to personally reassure everyone that you aren't going to decimate the nation, Venti immediately sees your presence as his doom. He tries to keep it cool, and it sort of works? (It doesn't)

"AHAHA, YOUR GRACE!~ COME JOIN THIS HUMBLE BARD TO SEE THE GREAT TREE OF VANESSA!" "Venti, I swear to you, I—" "YOUR GRACE, IT'S WORTH IT PLEASE—"

Yeah, he's not taking the news well. But at least he'll collapse from relief knowing Mondstadt wasn't in danger after you clear up your mistake so yeah 👍 Good job, Creator!

Zhongli

The moment he hears you say that, this man is both protective over his baby (his nation) and hella scared of what the heck you're going to do to erase the Geo Nation off of the map.

When you try to enter Liyue, you "coincidentally" bump into Zhongli who tries to distract and stall you from your "objective," while also try and figure out your motive.

"Your Grace, may you please accompany me to Jueyun Karst? I believe the view there might be well, and I am in need of finding Jueyun chilis." "Zhongli, I—" "Thank you, Your Grace. Please, accompany me."

He does his absolute best to prove to you that Liyue is not a nation worth decimating for. When he hears that it was all just a misunderstanding and that, no, you weren't planning on destroying Liyue at all, he sighs in relief and decides to treat you all to tea.

Even you know y'all need it.

Raiden Ei

Gurl's not having a good time. It's almost like pre-Inazuma Archon Quest all over again. Ei's doing her best to make sure that Inazuma is the most well-behaved nation and yeah, it's kind of a disaster

The moment you step foot into Inazuma, you immediately sent to Tenshukaku to talk to Raiden Ei. She's even got Yae Miko on board with this—they cannot afford to lose Inazuma.

"Your Grace, please listen." "Ei, please—" "Inazuma has diligently followed all your orders, and we will continue to do so if you bless our nation with the chance to continue to thrive." Ei is almost going back to a similar state of being "close to the heavenly principles," only except she's here in the present and not in her eternal meditation.

The moment you get her to hear you out and that, no, Inazuma's not going anywhere, she nearly deflates on the spot. But, as she's the Raiden Shogun, she tries her best to stay composed.

Nevertheless, she's forever relieved that Inazuma is still favored by you.

Nahida

Like the others, she panics. While she is heavily worried about her subjects, and how they're faring, she has to leave that to the Akademiya's Grand Sage while she tries her best to find the reason as to why you want to decimate Sumeru.

She's heavily in thought and the moment you barge into the Sanctuary of Surasthana, Nahida immediately panics, thinking this is the end—the time you tell her to step down and watch Sumeru fall. Nevertheless, she wants Sumeru to live, and she tries to put up a fight.

"Your Grace, please tell me—what is it that made you hate Sumeru?" "Nahida, please...." "We've done nothing wrong, as far as I am aware of. Is there something that was done that makes you think Sumeru betrayed you?" She's determined to not only stall, but get you to tell your (non-existent) reasoning as to why you want Sumeru destroyed.

She's probably the easiest archon that you will be able to tell them that it was not true, and when Nahida hears this, she is both relieved, overjoyed, and making a mental note of your temperament.

Yes, she's going to five you her research about how to deal with your mood. Have fun!~

Furina

Boy oh boy...if you thought Venti was dramatic, Furina goes FULL ON dramatic. The moment she hears this, it's almost like the prophecy all over again. She panics, and she immediately demands that the charges against criminals become more brutal, and that their theatrics and soap opera are to be only top-peak level. (Neuvillette's getting a headache dealing with her, you can tell—)

When you manage to get to Fontaine, you almost don't even recognize it. The citizens are so quiet when you arrived, and moving away from you respectively as Furina immediately rushes forward and whisks you away to the Opera Epiclese to entertain you.

"Furina, please listen—" "Don't you worry about a thing, Your Grace, for I, Focalors, shall show you how Fontaine will regain your approval through their justice, and through their opera!" "Furina—" "Please, Your Grace, rejoice in our spectacles, and enjoy the feast that is brought to your majesticness!"

We know all too well that Furina is a good actor. And this situation really proves how much she's hiding her panic, despite the fact that it's killing her. She's probably the most difficult, a little above Ei, archon that will hear you out about your accidental temperament.

When you somehow manage to get Furina to listen, she immediately deflates on the spot, before immediately putting back on her elegant posture. She asks Neuvillette to go back to normal charges, and she lowers the bar for the stories, allowing her subjects the breathing room that they're used to.

She treats you to Fontaine desserts, so win-win, yeah?

And we're done! I hope you guys enjoyed it lol—See you next time! :D

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: THIS TOOK TOO LONG—MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE SJGHKJGHEUHSIE SORRY-

Please feel free to send me any of your requests for Fontaine! I'm too obsessed rn lol—especially Fremmie (Freminet)!!! Anyways, hope y'all doing well lol—see you next time :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#sagau genshin #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #yandere sagau #genshin cult au #sagau brainrot #sagau cult au #sagau venti #sagau zhongli #sagau ei #sagau nahida #sagau furina

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ystrike1 · 1 month

Text

In the Doghouse - By Jusang (8/10)

The perfect prince wants to be punished! Our protagonist is a practical, poor noblewoman from a family of idiots. Her mother is a has-been. Her father is a dunce. Her brother gambles. Her older sister had a baby out of wedlock. She's doomed. Ready to live life as a barmaid, but then the Prince proposes. He's a huge fan of her (cruelty).

Courtney Devon comes from the bad side of a good family. Her fat and vain mother used to be the belle of the ball...and she just won't let it go...

It's embarrassing. You feel embarrassed for her. Her mother keeps buying frivolous and fashionable magic items...when they don't even have enough cash for a butler....

Courtney Devon screams at her pathetic mother, and the other party guests. She openly admits she has no cash, on purpose. Her parents are delusional. They just keep spending. Her vicious attack is one last desperate plea.

Stop fleecing my family.

We have no wool left.

Oh yes. She despises her noble peers for leading on her idiot family, and laughing at their ruin. She just can't ask nicely.

She has to rage.

She is always alone. The story does a great job of portraying her loneliness. Courtney Devon lashes out. She's rude. She feels no loyalty to her family, but sadly her rage is justified....but that doesn’t mean people will like it. The other nobles avoid her like the plague and despite her beauty no one has proposed.

It's lonely.

It's sad.

She wants to run, but she stays.

Why?

It's all for Eddy. Her sweet nephew. The child did nothing wrong. Courtney Devon knows that if she leaves no one will be able to scare the loan sharks away. Poor Eddy will lose his ancestral title, and he'll be left with an unreliable family...all alone.

She just can't do that to a child.

She lived through it, so she decides to force her family to sell their crumbling estate...

They are against it. Of course they are. Mommy dearest can't possibly live in the countryside!!! She has to go to her parties!!! Brother dearest can't live like a hick!! How will he continue to gamble his life away??? Sister dearest can't leave the big city!!! She's s-s-scared of poor people (even though she is one)!!!

Yes, they are the most annoying people in the world.

Brother dearest brings home more debt.

Too much.

Selling the estate won't cover it anymore.

Suddenly, the Prince proposes.

What a coincidence.

He does it the day after her finances are truly f***ed and unfixable.

The perfect Prince, Richard, is in love with her cruelty. He wants her to yell and scream at him. To shame him for speaking. To kick him aside and call him a fool.

Yes, he's a masochistic freak.

A pretty big one, who needs to keep his freak flag on the down low.

He does actually care about his kingdom after all. Courtney Devon is perfect. She can satisfy his disgusting needs, and she has to keep quiet...or poor dear Eddy won't have two coins to rub together when he grows up.

It's a twisted situation.

Courtney Devon gives him what he wants. What he planned to get from her, no matter what. He's been fawning over her rage like a simpering fan boy, and it enrages her.

Her painful, shameful existence turned on someone’s fetish.

It really is enraging.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #In the Doghouse #2024

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wileys-russo · 9 months

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alessia day II a.russo x reader

tooth rottingly soft self care days with star girl

alessia day II a.russo x reader

4.3K words

licking some jam off the tip of your thumb you looked down to the table loaded with food in front of you and nodded with a satisfied smile, happy with your work for the morning and even happier that alessia hadn't woken up any earlier than you'd hoped.

washing your hands and kicking the dishwasher closed with your foot you downed the last mouthful of your coffee, abandoning the mug in the sink and making your way upstairs. hand on the doorknob of your shared bedroom you pushed it slowly open, wincing as the door itself squeaked loudly but thankfully it didn't appear to phase the soundly sleeping striker on the other side of the room.

padding over to the bed you squatted down lovingly moving a few strands of loose blonde hair away from the girls face, gently murmuring good morning and pressing a lingering kiss to her warm forehead. never having been a morning person your girlfriend stirred but promptly rolled away from you over to the other side of the bed with a grunt.

your smile widened and you let out a small chuckle having already anticipated that the girl would be quite hard to get out of bed this morning, all the stress from rumors of her potential transfer from united meant she'd spent the last couple of weeks getting very minimal sleep.

alessia had instead spent hours and hours doom scrolling through what social media was saying about it all, only falling into a deeper spiral of anxiety and discomfort much as you tried to beg and plead with her to stop listening to the outside world.

the last couple of days had been particularly brutal.

ella was asking alessia a lot of questions she didn't have answers to which was frustrating her best friend to no end, the girl having been very vocal about supporting alessia no matter what but wanting to know what her plan actually was.

but without a confirmed plan forward alessia just felt the pressure increase at ellas questions, fear of the unknown only adding to the heavy load she was already carrying on her shoulders.

but today it was your sole purpose to take some of that weight away for her, and give her at least one day of feeling as though she wasn't weighed down by the expectations of others, every move constantly watched and over analysed by millions of strangers.

"good morning gorgeous." you hummed softly, climbing onto the bed beside her. "it's time to get up." you whispered poking gently at the blonde who whined tiredly and flopped onto her back, covering her face with her arms.

"come on less, time to wake up baby." you moved to carefully straddle her, torso tucked securely under the duvet as your own body rested atop the covers, legs settling either side of her blanket covered hips. "no it's not." alessia grumbled with a huff, tensing her biceps as you attempted to remove her arms from her face.

"yes it is, now stop covering that gorgeous face." you eventually won, intertwining your fingers with hers and pinning her hands against the pillow, bright blue eyes slowly fluttering open below you. "well hi there." you smiled like a lovesick puppy, letting go of her and moving your hands either side of her face, sweetly pecking at her lips a few times.

"m'tired." alessia slurred still half asleep, blinking a few times and stretching out underneath you with a quiet groan, hands coming to rest on your bare thighs as slender fingers traced absent minded shapes along your skin.

"i know you are my love which is why coffee and breakfast are ready and waiting downstairs." you laid down on her a little more, peppering her face with kisses causing the strikers lips to curl up into a smile, cheeks flushed rosy pink and eyes still a little puffy from her half asleep state your heart soared, you couldn't have been any more infatuated with her if you tried.

"today is alessia day so you have to get up because i've got plans for us." you announced happily, alessia tilting her head at your words. "but its not my birthday?" she frowned a little in confusion, arms sneaking up the back of your jumper and short nails scratching gently at your back like she knew you loved as you swooned at the gentle tired rasp of her voice in the morning.

"no its not, but i know you've been under a tremendous amount of pressure lately and i want you to have one day where you don't have to think about any of it, so todays all about you." you promised her sincerely, smoothing out the stress lines on her forehead where she was frowning and stealing a kiss.

"oh baby." you melted as the blonde sniffled, a few stray tears rolling from her ocean blue eyes which you tenderly wiped away with your sleeve. "why are you crying?" you asked softly, raking your hands through her hair as the striker wordlessly shook her head.

"i don't deserve you." she eventually managed to choke out, tanned arms moving to wrap around your smaller frame the girl sat up quickly and engulfed you into a tight hug, catching you a little off guard the blonde held onto you as if you could fly away at any sudden moment.

"don't be silly less you deserve nothing but the best and if i can even give you half of that i'm happy." you mumbled into her hair, your own arms snaking around her neck as the two of you sat there for a few peaceful moments, just wrapped up in one another's tender and loving embrace.

"i wasn't kidding though there is breakfast waiting downstairs." you pulled away with a smile, alessia tugging you down into a proper kiss and mumbling a thank you against your lips.

"may i please have my phone back just for a second to text tooney?" alessia asked hopefully, you having taken her phone for the day knowing that you wouldn't have a chance at getting your girlfriend to unwind and relax if she had access to her social medias.

"i already told tooney you'd be off the grid today and i love you so very much but i know you won't be able to resist the temptation to not go for a little look around about the contract drama on social media. so no, you may not." your words may have seemed harsh but you made sure your tone conveyed that they came from nothing but a place of care, alessia nodding along in understanding

"so what's next for alessia day then princess?" the striker smiled pulling herself up to sit on the counter next to you as you finished rinsing the dishes used for breakfast, having banned your girlfriend from helping as much as she'd fought you on it.

"face masks, do each others nails, pitch perfect one to three with your favourite snacks, massage, wash your hair for you, make pasta for dinner." you dried your hands and ticked off your remaining plans using your fingers, moving to stand in between the older girls legs.

"have i told you how much i love you?" alessia beamed at your words, doing her very best to focus all of her love, attention and energy into being alone with you in the little safe haven you'd both created behind the walls of your shared flat.

"mmm not in the last five minutes no?" you smiled softly, pressing your body against hers as the taller girl crossed her legs tightly around you. "sorry bella were you waiting for something?" alessia teased as you looked to her expectantly awaiting those famous three words, your heart skipping a beat as it always did anytime she spoke to you in italian. which the blonde was completely aware of and had no issues using to her advantage any time she so pleased.

"suddenly alessia day is cancelled." you rolled your eyes and attempted to walk away as the girl was quick to slide off the counter, tugging your back into her front and nestling her face into your neck.

"ti amo tantissimo, mia bella ragazza." alessia rasped quietly in your ear and smiled against your skin before repeatedly kissing your cheek, watching in delight as they blushed at her words.

"my pretty pretty girl." she continued, spinning you around in her arms and ducking so her mouth met yours and you wrapped your arms around her neck, tugging gently on her hair as she balled your jumper in her fists, pulling you impossibly close and deepening the kiss with a satisfied hum.

eventually needing to come up for air the two of you pulled away, exchanging a few sweet pecks before you grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the kitchen and whisking her away to continue with your plans.

"like this?" you asked holding up a freshly folded piece of ravioli, alessias smile softening at the way your face was scrunched up in concentration, the tip of your tongue just poking out of the corner of your mouth. "yeah, that looks good." alessia complimented, you adding your one piece to her basically completed pile, humming with satisfaction at your efforts.

"now please sit down. you've been so sweet and thoughtful today let me at least cook you dinner amore mio." alessia placed a tender kiss to your lips before playfully shooing you away as you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter, not wanting to be far from her.

she began to speak to you and at first you were following along and contributing to the conversation but as she began to roll out the next batch of pasta you found yourself minimized to only half listened hums in response.

fixated on the way her biceps flexed and tensed as she kneaded at the dough, eyes falling to the veins lining her ring clad hands as they poked and stretched at the pasta, alessia expertly rolling and manipulating it as she needed.

quickly noting your lackluster responses your girlfriend glanced up to find your gaze trained to her forearms, an amused smile settling on her lips as she purposefully rolled up the sleeves of her top and pressed a little harder than normal, flexing her arms and watching with a smug smile as you let out a small content sigh.

rolling out the last of the dough, having already filled and molded most of it into perfect little raviolis the older girl grew bored of your wordless responses. so with a mischievous glint in her eyes the italian grabbed a handful of flour and before you even had a moment to think you were surrounded by a tornado of white, choking on the flecks that made their way into your mouth and frantically rubbing at your eyes.

your girlfriend almost fell to the floor in laughter as you coughed a few times and attempted to shake the loose flour off the top of your head. "alessia!" you managed to choke out in shock, jumping down from the counter and grabbing your own handful of flour, quick to smack it into her head as she was too busy laughing at your misfortune to defend herself.

from that moment on your kitchen became a war zone, the two of you chasing one another around taking turns to douse the other, melodious laughter's echoing around the empty flat as your footsteps pounded against the floor.

"okay truce! we still have to clean this up." alessia glanced around at the ever growing mess as you paused, hand full of flour raised and ready to strike as the taller girl held her hands up in surrender, letting out a small sigh of relief as you emptied your hand onto the counter rather than into her once freshly washed hair.

what she failed to notice was you quickly slip an egg she'd not needed into the pocket of your her nike shorts, attaching yourself to her and bringing the blonde into a sweet kiss, her defenses instantly lowering and leaving her right where you wanted her, blissfully unaware of what you had planned.

"i think you mean you still need to clean this up because you started it!" you pulled away with a shake of your head, feeling the strikers hands slowly slide downwards, eventually settling themselves on your bum. "isn't the rule 'one cooks, one cleans'?" the blonde asked with a cheeky smile, squeezing at your bum and stealing a kiss before you could tell her off.

"is it?" you asked with a put on confused frown, hand slipping into your pocket and tightly gripping the egg, arm darting out to smash it over your girlfriends head as she was mid sentence. the girl let out a squeal at the unexpected attack, large hands grabbing for you as you tried to make a hasty getaway, almost slipping in the egg now joining the flour all over your once spotless floor the striker was quick to catch you, pulling you easily back to your feet.

though she should have known better given her own clumsy nature as no sooner had she steadied you did she slip herself, hands still settled protectively on your waist she unintentionally pulled you down with her.

the two of you shared a look before bursting out into laughter, rolling around on the floor and clutching at your stomachs, gradually crawling toward one another as alessias hand grabbed at the collar of your jumper, tugging you into a searing kiss as she carefully maneuvered herself to hover over you.

caught up in the blissful sensation of her mouth on yours you paid her no mind as she was quick to pin your hands to the cold tiled floor under her knees, settling herself on top of you before pulling away. it wasn't until you looked up and saw the knowing smirk on the blondes face did you realise what her intent was, the taller girl easily stretching up and grabbing what she was after from the counter.

"don't you dare." you warned seriously, squirming underneath her attempting to free yourself but it was to no use as your girlfriend was easily the stronger of the two of you. "you seemed to think it was pretty amusing, no?" alessias smirk widened as she twirled the egg around between her fingers.

"less please come on, you started it!" you whined in protest, trying to crane your neck away from her as her free hand reached out to grab your jaw, firmly holding your head in place as your stomach flipped at the action.

ignoring your pleas the striker gently tapped the egg on the floor before cracking it open on your forehead, watching with a grin as your glare up at her deepened and the yolk dripped down your face.

"so we have flour, egg...what's missing?" alessia pretended to think, mockingly stroking at her chin as you spat up all sorts of colorful language and threats in her direction as she grabbed the half full cup of water from the counter and you bucked your hips up trying to throw her off of you.

pushing her body down she was quick to once again have you at her mercy, the striker teasingly tipping the cup toward you but stopping right before the water tipped over the edge. "russo if you want to enter tomorrow a single woman i dare you to tip that cup." you spoke scarily calm, stormy eyes locked with hers in a silent promise.

"you're the cutest little ravioli i ever did see." alessia smirked, putting the cup down and dipping her head, breath warm against your lips as you shook your head, eyes still slit into a glare. "get off me." you demanded firmly, the striker lifting her hips to sit back on her knees and allowing you to wriggle your body out from underneath hers.

"clean this up and cook that, i'm going for a shower." you ordered as you carefully stood to your feet, crossing your arms and jutting your hip out to the side as the blondes smile only widened, sitting up on her knees and grabbing at you, hugging your lower half as her head rested on your stomach.

"has anyone ever told you that you're extra fit when you're mad?" the girls hands began to wander, fingers tugging gently at the waistband of your shorts. "just some annoying blonde one night stand i can't seem to get rid of." you quipped back, hands finding hers and moving them away.

"well she sounds like a nightmare." alessia tutted with a shake of her head, hands instead sliding up the bottom of your shorts, tracing lines on your inner thighs. "the worst. just so clingy and needy, some people can't take a hint i guess." you shrugged, beginnings of a smile ghosting at your lips as you ran your hands fondly through her flour filled hair.

"want me to get rid of her for you? sounds like she could be dangerous." the blonde offered, your breath hitching slightly as her hands moved even higher.

"oh yeah she's a stage five clinger, some would say even borderline a stalker! lets herself into my home and walks around with no pants on, eats all my food, hogs the duvet, whinges when i'm on her side of the bed but has a cry when i don't cuddle her enough, forces me to go to all of her stupid football matches then forces me into these disgustingly sweaty hugs when she wins, god she is terribly clumsy and-" having enough of your teasing alessia tugged on your matching top and short sending you falling into her awaiting grip, laying down on the floor with you now on top of her, your mouths moving together in perfect sync.

"sounds like you should break up with her." alessia mumbled into the kiss with an amused smile. "i've tried six times she just keeps coming back, i think she's in denial." you muttered as you moved your lips to focus on her neck, knowing exactly where the girl needed you.

"best alessia day ever." the blonde almost moaned as you softly bit down on her pressure point, hands firmly gripping at your back holding you on top of her. "you know i think i've decided its an ick you keep referring to yourself in the third person, kind of a turn off." you sat up far too quickly for her liking, looking down at her with pity as she rolled her eyes at your continued teasing's.

"i love you." alessia dropped the act and spoke sincerely, eyes shining with nothing but adoration and borderline obsession with the girl sat on top of her. "i love you more." you smiled, bending to pepper her face with kisses before again affirming you both really needed to shower and clean up, both of you getting to your feet.

"good thing you've got that clingy blonde stalker, could she clean up for us?" "yeah you know what i think i'll keep her around for a little while longer."

~ translations; bella - beautiful ti amo tantissimo, mia bella ragazza - i love you so much my beautiful girl amore mio - my love

#woso #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #alessia russo x reader #woso blurbs #fic recs

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intoxicated-chan · 3 months

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𝐀 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐜𝐞 & 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ⚘ 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘

Summary ➳ Thorin’s heart swears to despise each and every dragon, but how could he come to hate its rider who longs for a home as he does?

Extra Information ➳ (Y/n) appeared in Mirkwood twenty three years ago with a baby dragon perched on her shoulder. Thranduil took her in to keep a promise to an old friend.

(A/n) ➳ I started writing this mid November of last year back when I started the Hobbit. I plan to upload this series either Spring or Winter. Feedback is greatly appreciated. I feel like this is more of my better works considering I wanted it to feel like the Hobbit/LOTR.

Word Count ➳ 610

Content Warnings ➳ Female Targaryen Reader, 3rd P.O.V, mentions the Doom of Valyria, mentions of death…

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1

(Y/n) watched from the corner, watching as each dwarf was pushed into a cell. Their complaints were falling on death’s ears.

She stepped out from the shadows and towards Legolas’s direction, wanting to know where the dwarves came from.

“What do you know of dragons, girl?” The dwarf’s voice was gruff, laced with bitterness as he eyed the dragon sigils embroidered into her clothing. “You wear it like a badge of honor.”

(Y/n) eyed him as well, realizing who the dwarf in the cell was. “You’re Thorin Oakenshield? Heir to the throne of Erebor.”

Thorin’s fists clenched around the iron bars. “You have yet to answer my question.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in amazement. “I cannot believe it. I’ve-”

“(Y/n)! Dina!” Legolas commanded her to come. “Get away from the dwarf.”

With that, she walked away, leaving no room for Thorin or (Y/n) to say anything.

“Must you speak to them?” Legolas sneered, following you down the steps. “What reason do you have?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the infamous Thorin Oakenshield. It was not disappointing.”

“...Is it?”

(Y/n) nodded, a smile on her lips. “Yes. If what they say is true… If they reclaim the mountain, I would love to see the glory of Erebor.”

Legolas froze in his steps. “I am beginning to wonder where your allegiance lies.”

“What makes you wonder that?”

“...Go, I need to report to the King.”

She rolled her eyes, asking herself if her curiosity made Legolas or anyone else question her loyalty.

Of course, her loyalty lies with Thranduil, he saved her and took a human and a dragon in. A human not from this world.

The sun had begun to set when (Y/n) stood at Thorin’s cell. “Might I ask you something?” She began, breaking the silence.

He looked up at her, eyes wary. “What is it? Dragon rider?”

“If you had no memories of the kingdom or its riches, would you still fight to reclaim it?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “For it is not the gold or treasures that drive me, but the honor and memory of my kin who were lost. To reclaim Erebor is to honor their memory, to give those who wish for their home.”

He stepped closer to the bars as he spoke his words, loudly enough for the rest of the Company to hear. He spoke with bravery and pride, not a single once of shame in them.

(Y/n) listened to his words closely. It made her think of her own home, the writing of the book could not describe the doom correctly.

Only a dream, unsure if it came true…

(Y/n) became lost in her thoughts, she began to speak aloud. “I wonder…” She uttered. “What it would be to see Valyria, to walk the streets, see the dragons fly into the sky with my people on its back. I wonder if any Targaryens remain.”

She sighed, sitting down on the steps. “I wonder if the dream was true and the doom of my home was correct.”

Thorin, still irate from the encounter from earlier but genuinely curious about her side of dragons, sat as well. “Was it taken?”

“It was destroyed. A Targaryen had a dream, D… Daenys had a dream. She had foresaw the destruction. But I have no way to know if it was true, I do not know if Valyria still stands or if any Targaryens remain to rule the skies.”

(Y/n) looked up to the ceiling, closing her eyes to remember how Valyria was described. “To be home. I would give my life just to see it.”

“…May you find your way home, dragon rider… And safely.”

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the0maski · 5 months

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Fear headcanon’s I have, but can’t explain, about the Link’s and some endings of their adventures.

Sky: has a massive fear that people are just using him. I think I picked it up from some dialogue in the game, where Zelda apologized for using him??? It’s been ages since I played SS, so my mind could have had made this one up, but something like that stuck to me. His "laziness" is just his way of protecting himself. If someone asked him for something, and will just send him and come with him, he is getting suspicious of that person. Even if it was to go get some books for class.

Time: He was lying about regretting being forgotten as a hero. He was extremely happy being back in time and having an actual chance of changing things. He never overcame his abandonment issues and the need to be enough, that’s why he helped Twilight. Also I have a strong feeling that his spirit never moved on, because he never felt he belonged anywhere. Where does a rejected soul go?

Wind: Massive fear of people drowning and people getting kidnapped. The crew has to stop him from jumping into the water to save someone, or kill someone. (He killed Ganondorf, he will do it again) He is acting on instinct on those moments, so as much as Tetra likes him as her right hand man, she can’t take him everywhere.

Legend: What I thought was that Koholint Island, wasn’t completely a dream. The island actually existed somewhere else. Dreams are made from things we see in real life sometimes, so the Wind Fish had passed that island at some point. But by falling asleep she doomed the acutely island to falls asleep with her. Legend was sent to wake up the Wind Fish, because there was a Koholint Island somewhere, where people are about to die because they can wake up. Legend never found that out…and has a hard time seeing himself as a hero for along while. What hero has blood on his hand?

Warriors: Scared of woman. And man. And probably everything that can betray him. He doesn’t get help unfortunately, since his paranoia had helped them extremely at war and some battle plans. He is one of the Links I see that will also never have a happy ending…

Wild: Extremely clingy, his issues are just as skyrocketing like Time’s, but the difference is Wild is extroverted. People notice that something is going on, but since Wild is a stranger to most at the beginning of his adventure, no one knows how to help. After Zelda comes back, she immediately notices that Wild needs help, and those a lot of research to help him. Wild gets better with time, yet he still clings to some people a lot.

I don’t have one for Hyrule sorry, boy has already everything, distrust, low self esteem and so on, from what I see in the fandom. Once I get to play his game or watch a play through I will understand him better.

Same goes for Four, all I could say, that he is probably afraid of getting falsely accused. (Red in the Manga). Splitting into four isn’t painful for him, if he does it for drama.

Twilight is a good boy, with a loving family and village that acutely cares about him, so all he has was a very strong broken heart. This man falls in love and HE FALLS IN LOVE! So leave him alone, he has done nothing wrong in his entire life. Yes he is afraid of rejection but he gets support. I love him to much to hurt him.

#I really want one stable Link but the goddesses said no #my mind goes into really dark places with Warriors and Time #they are just like me for real #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu thoughts #lu chain #lu time #lu wild #lu legend #lu sky #lu wind #lu four #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu headcanons

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months

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Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day 2: Electric Boogaloo

So, the plan was to have my one productive day and then rest for however long the consequences of post exertional malaise decide they want to take.

But I needed to bring the working key fob back to the tire place so they could calibrate the tire pressure sensors. So, the day after my day, I napped until about 4pm and summoned the last bit of energy I had to finish this task.

After they fixed the sensors, I looked out over a beautiful sunset in the Discount Tire parking lot.

It's weird the places you find beauty sometimes.

I was about a mile away from my family's favorite pizza place. We've been going there since I was a tadpole. So I decided to grab a pizza as my Thanksgiving meal.

I didn't realize that the day before Thanksgiving would be just about the busiest night of the year. And they have the world's worst parking lot, half of which is a steep hill, and they didn't have enough spaces.

Google Maps has flattened the appearance of the hill. That thing is nearly a 40 degree angle. If anyone with a sports car wants a pizza, they are going to scrape their paint trying to get it.

So, I tried to park around back. Unfortunately someone was exiting the back parking lot and there is only one lane.

So... I backed up... into a pole.

I was going extremely slow and I barely tapped it. But I still felt pretty stupid. Thankfully no scratches or dents.

I finally find parking and head inside.

The Italian kitsch is always a "welcome" sight.

Every time I look it takes me like 10 seconds to figure out the configuration of his face. I find it is best to look at the mustache first, and then orient yourself from there.

I head to the counter and she asks for my name, assuming I am picking up a phone order. I explained I was just "dropping in" and then she gave me an "oof" face. The wait was nearly two hours. I told her I could get a few things from the grocery store and return for my pizza. She charges my card and I hop back in my car. Just as I was about to exit the parking lot of doom, a customer from Angelo's starts yelling at me.

"You forgot your card!"

Clearly my brain fog is starting to get to me. I left my damn bank card on the counter. So I have to exit the parking lot, drive into another parking lot, turn around, and then park again. I retrieved my card and headed to Nice Schnucks.

The GPS took me on a wild journey to the NS. I've lived in this area for 40 years and I had no idea some of these roads existed. I'm sure it was 3 minutes faster or whatever, but I think I would have preferred a route with streetlights. Unlit streets give me a bit of anxiety. Especially if I don't know them.

I get to NS and realize I was about to have the same problem I did at the pizza place. It was the night before Thanksgiving and the entire neighborhood was scrambling to get food for the next day.

I filled up on soups, frozen pizzas, and I got a few more bottles of my beloved soda. There is a Shirley Temple flavor I have yet to try. (Update: A rare Fitz's fail. Tasted like cough medicine.) And then I headed to the madness of the self-checkout.

I managed to kill about an hour, but my legs were getting wobbly. I really shouldn't have gone back out this soon. And I probably should have just headed home after the car was fixed. But I feared if I didn't do *something* special for Thanksgiving I would probably have a difficult time being all alone.

I head back to Angelo's. This time I was able to park in front and avoid hitting any poles.

The pizza was cooking and needed another 15 minutes. So I sat at a table and worked on finishing writing my to-do list for my trip to Florida. I was trying to tell Amazon that, yes, I do want a tiny bottle of shampoo to comply with the TSA security theater. But, no, I do not want 8 tiny shampoos.

Oh, did you know they charge you a "9/11 tax" when you buy a plane ticket?

Spirit Airlines has a pretty funny alternative name for it...

"After 9/11, the U.S. implemented the “9/11 Security Tax”, which was a fee of $2.50 each way of a trip on top of the price of a plane ticket. In 2014, the 9/11 Security Tax was increased to $5.60 each way. So, for a round trip this fee would cost $11.20"

We are literally still paying for 9/11. And there is no evidence the enhanced security does much of anything.

So we pay this tax so they can force us to buy tiny shampoo and go through scanners that have to detect and blur our genitals so the TSA agent can't see.

Anyway... I finally get my pizza and head home. When I pulled into my driveway I noticed a bright moon in the sky. It looked so massive compared to other nights, so I tried to capture a moon selfie.

As a photographer, I should have realized that a wide angle lens is not going to capture how big the moon looked in the sky that night. Wide lenses exaggerate distance. So things close to the lens look huge and things far away look tiny. That's why we look like aliens if we hold our smartphones too close to our face. To the lens on your camera, the distance from the tip of your nose to your ears is quite vast. Which meens a celestial body that is 240,000 miles away looks like a tiny dot in the picture.

I still kept trying.

That could be a moon I guess.

Umm, Froggie... you got some moon in your hair.

Later I did try to capture the moon with my DSLR and an 80mm lens, but I guess the moon is just really far away or something.

ENHANCE!

A.I. upscaling reveals it is, in fact, the moon.

I ate my pizza and did a quick tire test and photoshoot.

And then I spent way too long Photoshopping this X-wing flying into my deep-as-heck tire tread.

And that was my day after the day.

Today, which is currently Thanksgiving, I slept.

I slept all night.

I slept most of the day.

I still want to sleep.

Weirdly, I am too tired to feel lonely. Though now that I wrote that, I am thinking about my parents being gone, so I just screwed that up.

But hey... at least my pizza was tasty.

#long post

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yngjwonluvr · 21 days

Text

𝗨𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗𝗟𝗬 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 // ʏᴀɴɢ ᴊᴜɴɢᴡᴏɴ

pairing: non-idol! jungwon x fem! reader

genre: smau, fluff, enemies to lovers

warnings: swearings, mention of humiliation, goofy jungwon

wordcount: 868 not proofread

author's note: Happy Sunday, y'all! Got nothing to do so I made this. I know it's boring ++I'm not good at writing but still did my best. Hope you guys like it!

synopsis: In the competitive world of business, longstanding rivals Jungwon and (oc) are forced into an uneasy partnership when their families orchestrate a merger to save their companies and make a stronger bond. Complicating matters further, they find themselves bound by an arranged marriage. They have to face their rivalry and determine whether there is true love between them or if their marriage is doomed to fail as they work through the difficulties of combining their personal and professional lives.

“What?!?! But dad-” I was about to make an excuse about the information that I just heard when my dad cut me off, saying “You can’t say no, dear; you already signed the partnership contract.” He said, making me sigh. “But I didn’t know that it was going to be him who would be my partner for this project.” I reasoned it out. “But dear, a contract is a contract. No more excuses, okay? Whether you like it or not, you’ll work with him.”

I nodded and left my dad’s office, feeling defeated by the fact that I had to work with my longtime enemy, who’s known for his looks, intelligence, and wealth. I guess you already know him….yes! The one and only YANG JUNGWON. He’s the son of my father’s friend. But Dad and Uncle being the best of friends doesn’t make me close to Jungwon. Instead, annoyance and anger took over. Why? Because he rejected me harshly and freaking embarrassed me 3 years ago at their house party when I told him that I liked him, and he answered, saying, "I don't like spoiled brats," and started laughing with his friends. And from that day on, I started hating him to the point that seeing his face made me want to break his bones.

‘Aish, I’m stressing myself more just by thinking of him.’ My thoughts were interrupted when I heard my secretary call my name. “Yes, Lia? Do I have a meeting later?” I asked. “Oh, no, Miss Yn. Your mom just wanted me to tell you that you guys are going to have a family dinner at the Yang's residence later at 7 pm,” she stated, which made me roll my eyes. “Aish, again? Alright, I’ll take note of that. Thanks for telling me.” She smiled and bowed before leaving as I went to my office to continue the work that I had left when my dad called me to his office.

“I bet the partnership will be our topic tonight,” I sigh.

----------------T I M E S K I P—--------------

I flinched when I heard my phone ringing. I groaned before answering the call without looking at the caller’s ID. “Hello?” I started. “Oh, Yn dear, are you still planning to attend our family dinner tonight?” the person on the other line sweetly asked, which made my eyes widen. It’s Jungwon’s mother. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry auntie, I must’ve fallen asleep while doing my work and didn’t notice the time,” I explained. "It's okay, dear. Take your time. We are not rushing you," she assured. "Okay, Auntie, I'll just pack my things and call Dad to fetch me." I said, "No need, dear. Take your time; I already sent someone to fetch you there since your parents are here already." Auntie said. “Okay, Auntie, I'll be leaving now,” I said, informing her that I needed to go. “Alright. Take care, dear. Bye,” she hung up, as I left my office and went to the parking lot.

I was peacefully walking in the parking lot while using my phone when something hit me—a candy wrapper. “Oopss,” my eyes automatically shut, and I felt like it rolled back inside my head. “What the heck are you doing here, Yang Jungwon? ”I turn around and see him grinning so widely that my blood boils in irritation. “What's with the full name, Missy? And chill, am I not allowed to see my lovely business partner? "He answered with a smirk while leaning on his car hood. Hearing his last two words pissed me more. "I am not working with an arrogant man, like you." He chuckled and played the lollipop in his mouth. He took the lollipop out of his mouth and offered it to me. "Do you want to have a taste?" he asked. "Yuck," I said, turning my back on him as I started walking away. "Hm, planning to ditch the dinner? "Jungwon asked. "Nah, not this time," I answered as I continued walking.

"Then should we go? "He asked, which made me stop walking and turn to face him again. "What did you say? 'I asked, wanting him to repeat what he said to make sure that I heard it right. "I said, if we should go already?" he repeated while walking towards me. "Huh? What do you mean, "if we should go? Yang, "I asked confusedly, "Oh, mom didn't tell you? "Tell me what? "I asked back. "Tell you that she asked me to fetch you." Jungwon answered my question with a smirk, holding my hand as he started pulling me towards his car. "What??? But why him, Untieeeee?" I whine while trying to escape from his grip as he laughs. "Yah, let's go; it's already 6:40," he said. "I know, and I don't want to go with you, Yang," I protest. "But you don't have a choice," he said while opening the passenger seat door. He made me sit there and go to the driver's seat. "Plus, we're going to be late. My wife doesn't like being late, right?" he added while giggling as he started driving.

‘Right, business partners also mean you are in a fixed marriage.’

#enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon smau #jungwon imagines #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n #jungwon fluff #jungwon scenarios

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jaydizzel2844 · 6 months

Text

Marie x Jordan Drabble

No. 6

Hanging out with Jordan is always fun, which ever form they take. André never got peoples hang up over the gender thing was, Jordan was cool either way.

But he’ll admit that they’re easier to carry back to campus drunk off their ass when they’re a girl.

Him and Luke were easily able to hold up Jordan between them and with Cate to open doors and shit getting Jordan back to their dorm room was easy.

There was one small hiccup.

“Noooo, I wanna say good night to my beautiful amazing girlfriend with the best ass ever first .” Jordan whined.

“Buddy it’s 3am, she’s asleep you can talk to her in the morning.” Luke tried to reason with them as they got to the courtyard outside side of the dorms.

“Also your obsession with her ass is a little concerning.” Andre added.

The four of them had gone clubbing. It was a last minute plan and it wasn’t meant to be an original four night out but the other three were busy. Sam had an important assignment for his puppeteering class and Marie and Emma already had plans for a roommates movie night.

Andre probably should have realised that that meant Jordan would be fourth wheeling him, Luke and Cate leading to the shapeshifter spending most of the time out at the bar doing shots with the new friends they’d made while the 3 of them were being throuple-y.

But they all had a good night regardless and hopefully Jordan won’t have too bad of a hangover tomorrow.

“No it’s not. And she might not be asleep,” Jordan slurred out. “She was having a movie night, those can go pretty late.”

The look in Jordan’s eyes was too hopeful Andre couldn’t help it.

“Alright I’ll text her.”

“Thank you, thank you thank you. I just want to say good night and that I love her.”

“Whoa what? Is the first time you’re saying the L word?” Cate exclaimed, stopping the 4 of them from going any further.

“Lesbians?” Jordan asked, confused.

“No, love.” Luke explained “fuck you are way too drunk.”

“Oh sorry, yes I love her but I haven’t told her yet. I’m going to do it tonight.” Jordan looked so proud of themselves.

“No you are not,” Cate told them firmly. “Not when you’re too drunk to stand up on your own.”

“But..”

“She’s right dude,” Andre interrupted. “You got to make shit like that romantic, like recreate your first date or something.”

“I should recreate getting shitfaced at Dusty’s?”

“No,” Luke said with a laugh. “The dinner you two went out for the week after that. At the Korean place off campus. Or do something else romantic. Basically do tell her but not tonight.”

“Ok, can I still tell her good night?” Jordan’s big brown eyes were impossible to say no to.

“If she’s up.” Andre said pulling out his phone.

—

To Marie🩸

U up?

Jordan wants to say good night

From Marie🩸

Yeah ?

Are they ok?

To Marie🩸

Yep just drunk

We’ll swing by your room in 5

From Marie🩸

Cool

Actually I’ll met you at their room

Don’t want to wake Emma

—-

“When did you know you loved her?” Cate asked as they entered the dorm building and headed for the elevator. Getting Jordan to their room was going a lot quicker now that they knew Marie was waiting for them there.

“Um, she was giving me a blowjob..”

“How romantic.” Cate interrupted.

“Fuck off, anyway I switched during it by accident. I thought I majorly fucked up, like totally freaked her out but I didn’t. She just kept going. And I just knew then and there that she wanted all of me, exactly as I am and she makes me feel so happy and good about myself and I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty sure that this is it.”

“Ok that’s a bit romantic.” Cate admits at they got out of the elevator on Jordan’s floor.

“Thank you.”

Marie was waiting for them at Jordan’s doom in slippers and a hoodie that Cate is pretty sure belongs to Jordan over her pyjamas.

Once Jordan saw her they slipped out of Luke and Andre’s arms and staggered into Marie’s.

“You got it from here or do you need help getting them into bed?” Luke asked.

“No I got it, thanks.” Marie said as she opened the dorm room door while Jordan nuzzled into her neck. “Goodnight”

***

Drunk Jordan was compliant if a bit cuddly so getting them into their pyjamas and into bed wasn’t too difficult.

“Sorry I didn’t come out tonight, it looks like you had a lot of fun.” Marie said as she helped Jordan sit on the bed so she could untie their shoes.

“Nah, it’s cool. You have fun with Emma?”

“Yep, we watched mean girls and a few other classics that’s she was horrified that I hadn’t seen yet. You?”

“Yep, it was so fun. So many shots, maybe too many.” Jordan got up and wrapped their arms around Marie, one hand sliding down to her ass before stopping. “Do you mind that I do that?”

“What?” Pulling out of Jordan’s arms so she could take their shirt off and replace it with a pyjama top.

“Me putting my hands on your ass, like you’ve joked about it a few times and Andre says I’m obsessed but does it bother you?” Jordan looked so concerned as Marie was undoing their belt.

She smiled to herself. “I don’t mind it, kind of like it to be honest.”

“Really?” They asked with so much relief and hope on their face that Marie couldn’t help but kiss them before getting back to taking their jeans off.

“Yeah, I’m been pretty unwanted all my life but I’m never insecure about you wanting me because you make it so obvious that you do, through ass grabbing.” Marie said with a laugh “you also make it clear that you enjoy spending time with me and are an all round amazing partner. Plus I know I have a great ass, I’d be offended if you didn’t appreciate it.”

Once Jordan was in their bed Marie pulled off her hoodie and slippers and joined them.

“It was really cool to hang out with they guys, even if I was fourth wheeling.” Jordan said cuddling into her side. “They give good advice.”

“Like what?” Marie asked as she started to doze off.

“They said not to tell you that I love you when I’m drunk. I’m gonna do it over dinner, make it romantic.”

Marie was suddenly wide awake while Jordan was out like a light. She just about managed to stop her self from jumping for joy or something equally as embarrassing and likely to wake up her partner.

‘Jordan loves me,’ she thought to herself self as she closed her eyes to go to sleep. ‘And I love them too.’

#gen v #jordan li #jordan x marie #marie moreau #limoreau

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afictionaladventure16 · 6 months

Note

With build a home can we get like reader comes home from school upset and finds her mom isn’t home but then Pedro is home but she doesn’t wanna burden him but it ends in them having a movie night and falling asleep on the couch please

❤️

To Build A Home Pt. III (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

A/N: Looooove this request!! Hope you enjoy it!! Requests for To Build a Home are open! send them in!!

Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you. You go home in hopes to find comfort in your mother but you are met with Pedro who tries his best to be there for you in dark times marking the beginning of a movement within you.

Word Count: 3,014

Warnings: Mentions of stalking

Waiting for time to go by was excruciating. The second hand on the clock moved slower the longer you stared at it, it was as if it knew you were anxious to leave this place; anxious to join the outside world and it liked the anxiety it got from you.

You let out a deep sigh as you shifted in your chair, you had zoned in and out of today's lecture about World War II. Your history teachers had a voice that could easily be drowned out by any noise. He had no enthusiasm for any subject he taught and it showed.

You directed your attention to your best friend who sat next to you, they had been doodling in their notepad for the past twenty minutes. You knew if your teacher had called on either one of you right now you’d be doomed.

The sound of the bell ringing startled you, and you jumped in your seat. Your best friend caught sight of it and giggled, “Jesus,” you muttered under your breath as you packed up your backpack.

“We still good for tomorrow?” They ask. You both walked out of the classroom and into the hallway.

“I don’t know, my mom is still pretty pissed at me from the other day,” you commented.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” they muttered. “How is all that going anyway?”

You shrugged, since the day Pedro took you to the aquarium a week ago, you had only seen him twice. He came over once to take your mother out on a date and for drinks after and he came over another time to cook dinner for your mother. Even though, he said he was making dinner for both you and your mother, you had found a way out of it. Luckily, you already had plans that night to go study with a group from class. You could tell he was trying to keep his distance, trying to respect the boundaries you have silently made. You respected that. You just weren’t sure how you felt about him still.

Your mother, on the other hand, was angry with you. Angry that you were not being so easy on him and you were angry with her. Hoping she’d be more understanding with the situation. After everything the two of you had been through, you had hoped that she would be the most understanding out of everyone.

“He’s okay,” you finally commented.

“Just okay?”

“I mean, what am I supposed to compare him to?” You sighed, “I don’t know him well enough to say he’s better than my dad or that he’s the best boyfriend my mother has ever had. So, he’s okay.” Okay was going to have be enough. For now. You were scared to say that he was great when in fact he wasn’t. Or to say that he was the worst person ever when he was a sweetheart deep down inside. His being an actor wasn’t adding to the equation. Every site you looked at, trying to find some type of dirt on the man always had something amazing to say. There was no way he was just Pedro. There had to be something.

They gave you a nod, “I think any man would be better than your dad.”

You shrugged, “I doubt that.”

You had reached the front entrance of the school building, where parents picked up their kids and where some waited for the school bus. Your best friend scanned the cars, smiling as they spotted their dad waving at them, you couldn’t help but feel envious of her. They had an amazing dad that was always there for them, one that really cared for them and protected them. You looked around, hoping that you could spot a familiar face. Yes, you had a loving mother who was always there for you, but you were repeatedly missing something.

“Let me know about tomorrow, yeah?” They said as they began walking away. You gave them a nod before waving them off. Watching as they hugged their dad inside the car, what you’d give to have something like that.

You began your walk home. It was only a twenty-minute walk and you enjoyed being able to listen to music on your walk home. Just because you listened to music on your walk home didn’t mean you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings though. You were aware of the things that were happening around you, the cars that passed by, the people you saw, and where exactly you were walking.

Meaning, that you noticed one car pass by you three times already within your walk. Immediately, you took note of the color of the car and model, hoping that maybe it was just a coincidence that you saw the exact same car three times, but it was hard to miss the big dent on the rear bumper. You doubted that there were three cars that were the exact same color, same model, with the same dent on the rear bumper that passed you all within five minutes of your twenty-minute walk.

Feeling your heart beginning to race, you picked up the pace. You glanced behind you to see the car had pulled over, you could see that there was only one person in the car. The car inched closer, giving you a better look at who was driving.

Your eyes widened when you realized who it was. Your father. He knew that you realized who he was, he put the car in park and got out of the car.

“Y/N, sweetie,” he smiled.

Don’t stop, you thought to yourself. You could hear him grunt as you continued walking down the sidewalk. Hearing the sound of the car door slamming caused you to jump slightly, you could hear the engine roaring to catch up. He slowly drove next to you, rolling down the window.

“Sweetie, please,” he began, “how about we go for a drive and talk? Just like we used to.”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you hissed as you kept your eyes forward, continuing with your walk.

“Look, sweetie, the restraining order is just a piece of paper, it’s not going to keep me away from seeing my daughter. Just get in the car.”

Your house was only a few blocks away, you could run it, but running it would risk him knowing where you lived. You needed a plan and you needed one fast. There were only a few options, run back to the school and seek help there; which was the most logical and sane option. Or you run and try to lose him.

Running back to the school did have its risks with it now being further away than your house.

“I miss you, sweetie,” He called out. “I need to see you and I can’t just let some piece of paper get in the way of that! Look, I’m sorry for everything that has happened but I’ve changed!”

It was always the same exact thing. The same exact words that lost meaning years ago, but they still brought you anger.

“Go away!” You yelled before sprinting down an alley. It probably wasn’t the best choice, but you knew this alley led to a small walkway towards your street and you knew this was probably your best bet in losing your father. Once you saw the street ahead of you, you stopped to make sure you couldn’t see his car before darting across the street to your house.

Swiftly, you pulled your backpack off your shoulders before fumbling inside the pockets looking for your house keys. From the distance, you could hear a low rumble of the engine making its way down the street. “Fuck,” you muttered to yourself. Heart racing as you swore to yourself that you left your keys in the small front pocket of your backpack that was full of pencils, erasers, and random pieces of paper. You could hear the small jingle of the keys being pushed around, letting out a sigh as you felt them against your fingers. Pulling them out of your backpack and unlocking the door as quickly as you could, you made it inside just before your father's car made it past your house.

Locking the door behind you, you ran into the living room, “Mom?!” you yelled in a panic. “Please be home,” you mumbled as tears began to fill your eyes, you ran up the stairs, “Mom!?”

Down the hall, in your mother's room, Pedro heard the door slam shut. For a second, he thought that maybe Yesenia's meeting had been canceled, which would’ve ruined his surprise for her. He let out a deep sigh, thinking that he could come up with some excuse as to what he was doing, maybe find something for her to do downstairs for the next hour. He got up from his position next to the pile of pieces of wood on the floor and made his way towards the door.

“Mom!?” He heard a voice yell throughout the house, his hand stopped just before he grabbed the doorknob. Thankful that it wasn’t Yesenia, but now he was filled with anxiety. Does he go out there and greet you or stay inside the room? Staying inside the room would probably be the worst thing to do, but he knew you didn’t like him all that much and he wanted to give you the space you needed. Pedro shook his head, he needed to at least let you know that he was in the house. He let out a deep sigh before turning the knob and opening the door.

“Mom?!” Pedro's heart began to race, something was wrong. He could hear the panic in your voice, and he quickly stepped out of the room. He could see you making your way up the stairs.

“Hey, Y/n!” He said in a soft tone, you jumped a little as you got to the top of the stairs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Is my mom here?” you asked anxiously as your eyes darted around the house.

Pedro took in how wide your eyes were and how pitched your voice sounded. “N-no, she had an emergency meeting at work, she won’t be back for a while.” You took in a deep breath as your hands shook, reaching for your phone in your back pocket. “If you’re trying to call her, it won’t help that she left her phone here.”

“Fuck,” you muttered. You lifted your hands up to your head, taking in deep breaths to control your breathing. Pedro noticed your knuckles go white from gripping your phone, the way you appeared to struggle to catch your breath. He knew what was happening all too well.

“Y/N?” He softly said as he took a step closer to you. You took a step back.

“I-I,” you took in another deep breath, and you began to fumble with your hands.

Pedro took a few more steps until you were directly in front of him, taking hold of your hands, “breathe with me,” he instructed. Taking in a deep breath and holding it, you followed. “And out,” he let out his deep breath, he led you in taking a few more deep breaths before helping you down the stairs and into the living room.

You took a seat on the couch, panic still trying to make its way in. Pedro took a seat next to you, he noticed your eyes darting around, “hey, hey,” he tried to catch your attention. “Deep breath,” he coached you through another deep breath.

Everything you had thought about Pedro went out the window. Yes, you thought there had to be something wrong with the man, something that no one knows about. A dark history of some kind, but when he knew exactly what to do without asking, at that very moment, you thought maybe there wasn’t.

Hesitantly, Pedro pulled you into an embrace, holding you just enough for you to stop trembling. He didn’t ask if you wanted to talk or if you were okay, and for you, it was what you needed. You allowed yourself to be okay in his presence, to feel safe. Slowly you wrapped your arms around his waist.

Pedro wanted to jump up and down with joy but he remained calm, gently rubbing circles on your back until you had fully calmed down. The two of you remained in silence for about fifteen minutes, you felt your heart slowly regain its normal pace and your breathing began to normalize.

“You ready to talk?” Pedro asked softly.

You let go of the embrace, tears brimming your eyes once again. “I saw him today.”

Pedro didn’t have to ask who you saw, he just knew by the way fear took over your eyes earlier. He knew it was a touchy subject, a subject that he didn’t know you would talk to him about.

“H-he was at my school waiting for me,” A tear made its way down your cheek.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Pedro suggested.

“Please don’t let him get me,” you pleaded as you looked over at Pedro. “Please.”

Pedro’s heart broke into pieces, the terror that man had put in you, if it were up to Pedro that man would never see the light of day. Pedro placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “I won’t.” He let out a sigh, “how close did he get?” Pedro asked. He knew the terms of the restraining order that was held against your father, knowing that if he got within 40 feet he could go to jail.

You shrugged, “it was close,” you sniffled.

Pedro sighed, he knew that what you needed to do right now was calm down. He wanted to call the police right away and get the man arrested, but he knew that that was probably not the best way for Yesenia to come home. Once Yesenia came home, he’d speak to her and they’d call the police, but for now, he had other things that needed his attention.

“how about we watch a movie?” He grabbed the remote from the coffee table.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you finally said. You weren’t expecting Pedro to just stop everything and be there for you. If anything, you expected him to go back to whatever it was he was doing, leaving you alone to panic. If it were any other person, they probably would’ve done just that.

Pedro looked at you puzzled, “I-I–”

“I don’t get it,” you began, “You come in here and you act like you truly love my mother and I treat you so horribly. I do everything I can to get you to run for the hills but you’re still here. You even dealt with our mess and you’re still here.” You got up from the couch, “So why are you still here? Why do you put up with it?

He placed the remote back down, “If I’m being honest… I don’t know. I have this immense love for your mother and I… I just can’t explain it. I’d like to be there for you if you’ll allow me to. I know I can never replace your father nor will I ever be like a father to you because you may not allow it, but I would like to be a part of you and your mother's life in one way or another.”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand.”

“You don't have to,” he got up from his spot on the couch.

Tears welled up in your eyes, “this is new to me.”

“It’s new to me too.”

“It’s gonna be hard for me.” He nods, “I can’t promise anything.”

“I’m not asking you to,” he said softly.

“Alright.” You wanted to believe that you weren’t doing this for him, you were doing it for your mother. Seeing how much joy he brought her made you happy and that should be enough, right? Right. Yet, it was hard for it to just be enough. It was hard to let someone in after years of trauma, but if your mother could do it… then maybe so could you.

“Movie?” He asked again as he sat back down on the couch.

You gave him a nod, taking the spot next to him. “I hear Paddington 2 is a good movie,” you commented.

Pedro couldn’t help but chuckle, “But we have to start with the first Paddington.”

Hours later, Yesenia walked into the house. Exhausted from the long meeting and anxious to see how many missed calls she had on her phone. She made her way to the living room, spotting Pedro a smile formed on her lips, “surprised to see you her-” she stopped mid-sentence as Pedro immediately shushed her. She walked around the couch, her eyes beaming as she saw her daughter laying her head on Pedro’s lap.

“She fell asleep halfway through Paddington 2, that was like two hours ago. I haven’t had the heart to wake her,” Pedro whispered. He gently combed your hair with his hands.

Yesenia sat on the coffee table in front of them, “want me to wake her?”

Pedro shook his head, “She’s had a bad day, let her rest.” He then looked up at Yesenia, “Her father was waiting for her at her school, I was waiting for you to come home so we could handle it.”

Yesenia’s heart dropped, this was one of her worst fears. “I’m sorry you have to deal with our drama, Pedro. I understand if-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he immediately responded. “I don’t want to break up, I don’t see that happening anytime in the future.” He sighed, “I can help.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m offering,” he looked down at you before looking back up at Yesenia, “let me help.”

As much as Yesenia wanted to decline his offer, she knew she couldn’t do this alone again. She didn’t have it in her anymore, she needed the help. “Alright.”

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracynooks @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @tracysnook @ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213 @boiohboii @drowning-in-paragraphs @stoneredsword @xmurph7 @sleepylunarwolf @glossy01 @aot-task141-lover @uwiuwi

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