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bella-rose29 · 12 days

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Breathe

Elrond x gn!reader (Rings of Power)

not me coming out of my cave to post an Elrond fic then leave again 👀

also not me not writing anything for over a month (probably, I haven't counted) and then coming out with a near 5k fic oops

the original title for this was 'is he dead or not??? who knows' but I think this one is good too

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: I think I killed someone writing this/made them need a lobotomy so consider that a warning to anyone who's gonna read (sorry), mentions of death, war, wounds, a child crying, the photo I'm gonna use is a warning in and of itself, I think that's it?

I feel I should add that this fic is actually happy (eventually) 😂 I reread the warnings and thought 'oh oops'

tagging @oblivious-idiot and @uku-lelevillain but if anyone else wants to be tagged in future Elrond works then let me know!

You could not breathe.

It would eat you alive, all this waiting, chewing on your insides until it worked its way outward and left you but a shell of the person you used to be, and you wouldn’t have any way of stopping it. Your lungs felt tight as you cradled the head of a sobbing child, his mother dead after birthing him and his father out in the fray with the rest of the soldiers of Middle-Earth. He was young, had barely seen his homeland, let alone the world, and he had never seen war before. You were not so lucky as he - war had been your upbringing. You could fight as well as any other of the elven soldiers, but somebody was needed to look after those who could not, and so you had volunteered along with a small band of others: retired fighters and those looking to start out and join the ranks but were not quite good enough yet. You had trained them over the last few days that you had all spent in the safe hold, taking them through the basics of how to grip a sword and the best way to gut an Orc should they break through and make it to the doors of the underground cavern serving as your shelter.

The child in your lap had stopped sobbing, his cries turned to sniffles, and you carefully lifted his body to nestle into your side. He was too young for war, you thought again, taking in the small points of his ears and the lack of angles on his face. You attempted a smile, hoping it would comfort him a little as you pushed a strand of his hair behind an ear, and whispered to him. “All will be well. They will return to us victorious, and we shall have no need of too many more tears.”

“But how do you know?” Children were inquisitive, which most of the time you adored, but when you are attempting to raise the spirits of a boy who does not know if he will ever see his father again, the questions become rather irritating.

“Because I have seen many things, and because our armies are strong. They will defeat the darkness and bring light to our lands once more.” It was the best you could do when you did not truly know the answer. You had learned the art of rhetoric years ago, when Elrond Peredhel had first come to Lindon and had quickly discovered that for the elves to see past his half-elven status he would need to become invaluable, or risk being an outcast in the race he had chosen to be counted among. You had been the first to greet him, intrigued by this visitor from the Havens of Sirion when you had been born in Lindon and raised there, and he had been grateful for your tour and kindness. He had spent many an hour sat with you, commenting on his meetings and the politics of Lindon, and how he carefully navigated clashing personalities and difficult conversations, and so you had learned.

You used it now, that knowledge that Elrond had provided in all those hours, to comfort this child. He had since taken to playing with a stick on the floor next to him, leaning further away from your side to entertain himself as he drew patterns in the dirt, and it gave your lungs the much needed space to breathe a little more.

It had been hours and hours since the army had left, heading out onto the battlefield to meet Sauron’s forces, and you were getting impatient. Elrond had gone with them, determined to provide what help he could no matter your protests to him entering the fray. You had trained him up, knowing that he could hold his own but wanting to be sure that he would be alright, and when you had suggested that you go with him while tightening the straps of his armour he had placed his hands over yours (his hands were too soft - far too soft for someone about to go into battle), gently coaxing them from where they had fretted with the leather and returning them to your side with a sad smile. “You must stay here, melethel, and protect those who cannot fight.” The term of endearment never failed to heat your cheeks, or send a warmth up your neck and through your chest. “For my peace of mind, please stay here.” He had let go of your hands at that point, moving them up to rest on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. A lock of hair had fallen over his face, and before you could think you were pushing it back into place, wondering if you had imagined him leaning into your touch that lingered a moment too long for two elves who were only friends and nothing more, his eyes fluttering closed for the barest fraction of a second before he was looking at you again, or if it had truly happened. What you were certain was real was the soft kiss he placed on your forehead, lips brushing the skin with such care and tenderness while his hands on your arms squeezed like you would disappear that it made your eyes sting with tears you refused to shed. Elrond would not see you cry, not now, not when there was a chance it could be the last-

No. You would not think that way. He would come back alive, and if he was hurt then you would stay by his side until he was healed, and then you would continue your lives as you had before - content and in friendship.

It wasn’t how you wanted things to be with Elrond, which was why you could not breathe. What if he was one of the fallen, and you never saw him smile again, or gaze in wonder at the golden leaves of Lindon or cast a wry glance your way in a council session when somebody said something he thought was silly and knew you would be thinking it too, your eyes already seeking him out? What if you never heard him sing again, or write poems about trivial matters that seemed so important to him? What if you never got to challenge him to a duel again, laughing when your swords clashed and rang out in the clearing you always fled to, and calling him a cheat for tickling you after you pinned him to the floor?

And what if you never told him how you truly felt? That from the moment he had seen you try not to show your tears after climbing too high in a tree and falling, grazing your knee and cutting your calf, and had rushed to your aid because that was what Elrond did, you had loved him. He had been so calm, so gentle that night, the lights of others long gone out as they dwelt in near darkness while your lanterns stayed lit as you gritted your teeth and washed the cut of dirt and bark. You had barely heard him come in, his knock as quiet as your tears, but when his hands wrapped around your own and took the cloth from you, dipping it again in the bowl of water to your side, you barely startled. He had not been in Lindon long and yet already you knew him and his movements as though they were your own, and you trusted him enough to see you so vulnerable, and from the way he had looked at you that night he knew it. Your love for him was strong and true and the greatest thing you had ever felt, and for years you had passed it off as a friendship so powerful that the bond between you was unbreakable. You had friendships like that with others, so it would not have been out of the ordinary to have one more person whom you would love unconditionally until your light died, but when he had been kneeling by your side and cleaning the gash on your calf with a tenderness you had only read about, you had known it was different.

The child beside you now dropped his stick, the movement bringing you out of your thoughts as he scrambled instead to his feet and started to push through the gathered people to make for the doorway.

The doorway which was now opening, a messenger stepping through. You stood up, air catching in your throat and making you nearly choke on spit as you struggled to breathe again. Your hand flew to your opposite wrist, under the fabric of your sleeve and touching the chain that rested around the base of your hand - a gift from Elrond in the early hours of the morning before he had left for battle and after he had kissed you on the forehead. “To remember me by,” he had said, a sadness settling over his features that you hated. He unclasped it, gesturing for you to hold out your wrist, and when you complied he had linked the chains so carefully, fingers brushing the underside of your forearm so lightly it sent chills darting over your skin like minnows in a stream. His hold had lingered, and your breath had been held while time seemed to stretch on more than usual for your kind.

Elrond had that effect on you, it would appear. Making you breathless was a skill of his you weren’t sure he knew he possessed, and at this current moment you wished it was a skill he had never mastered. Your throat felt tight while the messenger caught his breath, tired from sprinting from the battlefield. The fight was over for now, the question was simply who had won.

“Sauron’s forces have been pushed back, and the majority slaughtered. We have won this battle!” the elf cried, and the first wave of relief washed over you and the crowd. The second would come when you knew who was alive out of those that had been sent away that morning, and who would not return this night.

The thundering of footsteps could just be heard over the cheers of the people gathered in the safe hold, and the first of the elven soldiers appeared in the chamber, tiredness being replaced by joy at seeing their loved ones again and embracing them with a fierceness that even Sauron could not comprehend. There were too many similar soldiers, their armour all the same and their faces all dirtied, and it was a long few minutes before you caught sight of the elf you were searching for. You were sure your face was blank and cold, and your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to see past the hordes in front of you, but the moment a head of unruly curled hair glinted under the torchlight, clearly moving from soldier to soldier and asking if they were alright, you knew it was Elrond. He seemed to sense your gaze on him, turning his head to look over his shoulder and seek you out, finding you within seconds. He is alive. Elrond is alive. It was a mantra, playing over and over in your head as your feet numbly moved you forward while he did the same, pushing through people to reach you, and before you could truly register it you were in his arms, the coldness of your previous gaze melting and turning into warmth as you looked at him, tracing the small cuts on his face and wrapping your other arm around his waist. He was dirty, and bloodied, and shaking from the cold or from the fight or from something else entirely that you could not name, but he was alive. You squeezed his waist, pulling him closer to you, but didn’t miss the slight wince on his face as you did so. “Elrond, are you hurt?”

“I am fine, melethel. Just a scratch.”

“Do not lie to me, Elrond. Come, let’s get you cleaned up and out of your armour; it must be heavy on your shoulders.” He did not reply, only giving a tired smile in its place, and let you take him by the hand to the room you had commandeered for you both when you had arrived. There were two raised cots, not that Elrond had slept much, as he had been needed in meetings to discuss battle strategies and had, in his usual fashion, not stopped working until he was content that his plan would work. You closed the door behind you and pointed to one of the cots, not looking at him as you told him to sit. He did so in a daze, fingers picking at the leather straps that you had done up for him that morning. It was long past nightfall now, and Elrond likely had not rested since he woke up. You gathered your medicines and poured a dish of water, moving to sit on the stool that Elrond had pulled up for you and putting your supplies on the side table to help him with his armour. You worked in silence, removing piece after piece of metal until it sat on the floor in a neat pile and you had better access to his wound. Cautiously you pressed your fingers to the edge of the cut, trying to gauge how bad it was and immediately regretting it when he hissed in pain and tried to move away. You snatched your hand back, eyes snapping to his face to see it scrunched up in pain. “Elrond,” you spoke, voice quiet in the near-empty room as you placed your hand on his fist. “Elrond. It is alright. Here, help me get this off of you so I can clean it.” He softened, features settling back into a face you knew better than the wrinkled nose and squeezed-shut eyes, and smiled a little as you started tugging at his undershirts.

“You know, if you wanted me to take my clothes off you could have said it earlier.” Had you been standing you were sure your knees would have given way and caused you to hold on to something for support. He must be delirious from the wound, or the amount of time spent on his feet fighting. Elrond never said things like that: not to you, not to anyone. You forced a glare onto your face in lieu of a response, hoping he hadn’t noticed how much he had affected you with one simple sentence, and started to gently pull the fabric up.

“Stop jesting, Elrond. I need to clean your wound. Unless you would prefer I left you here to get an infection and suffer?”

“You rather enjoy leaving me to suffer, melethel. You do it whenever we fight.”

“I always help you up off the floor after I wipe it with your backside,” you indignantly replied. You were glad he was talking - the silence had been strange. Normally you would not mind sitting in silence with Elrond, but that was when you were safe in Lindon, books in your hands and paper rustling as the pages turned, not when he had just fought a bloody battle and could have died.

“I recall that last time we fought it was I who helped you off of the floor,” he mused, and you swatted at his arm.

“Shush. I let you win that one. Now stop talking and help me; your limbs are gangly.” He let out a noise of disbelief at that but lifted his arms anyway, wincing when the shirt went over his head and pulled at the skin of his side. An Orc had found a gap in his armour, pushing its blade through and marking the side of his body with blood. You held your breath at the size of it, and when Elrond asked you how bad it was you answered with your eyes still on his side. “It is… it is nothing I cannot fix.” He seemed content enough with your response, nodding and leaning back on his hands to allow you more room to work. He grunted in pain when you raised the cloth to his skin and started cleaning away the blood and sweat that had stuck there, but otherwise was silent while you worked.

Time is a strange thing for elves: your lives are so much longer than those other races of Middle-Earth and so often you do not perceive it in the same way - twenty years for some may be the blink of an eye to an elf. You could not have been cleaning and stitching his wound (he had cried out more when the needle had pierced his flesh) for more than an hour or so, and yet it had felt like an eternity. When you were finally done, his wound covered in an elvish salve to stop infection and the spread of whatever evil was in Orcish weaponry and stitched up with a fine thread that would dissolve harmlessly into his skin over time, you brought out another cloth and poured fresh water to clean his face. He was caked in dirt and blood and grime, sticking to his fair skin from all of the sweat he had created in exertion, and if you did not know Elrond like the back of your own hand then you would not have recognised him at all.

“Let me,” he said, pushing up off of the cot and moving to where you stood by the basin. His hands covered yours, gently attempting to pull the cloth from your grasp and do the rest himself, but your grip was strong.

“No. I have been sat around doing nothing all day and I might just explode if I do not finish looking after you.” He smiled, the barest of things as the corner of his mouth pulled upwards a little, and his eyes softened. How he could be soft after everything he had seen today amazed you. It had taken you years to stop guarding yourself after you first fought in a battle, not letting anybody see any vulnerability in case they took advantage and thought you weak. It was part of the reason you stayed behind: you had not wanted to find out what would happen if you fought again, not when Elrond had come into your life and, piece by piece, dismantled your high walls.

“Alright, melethel. Alright.” He had always insisted on calling you that, saying that it didn’t matter that the pair of you were not courting, and who were you to refuse him when he spoke so sweetly? He settled back against the counter, letting his feet drift apart a little so you had room to stand between his legs. He closed his eyes, trusting you to take care of him, and for the first time since he had returned he looked at peace. He seemed unsure where to place his hands, hovering for a moment between your waist and the wood of the cabinet top he perched on before deciding on the latter. You worked away the dirt, revealing more clean skin with every swipe of your cloth, until eventually you were looking at the face of your friend as you remembered it. His hair still needed a wash, as did the rest of him, but Elrond was here, in front of you and more like himself than he had been since he had left in the morning.

“I think you had more soil on your face than the grounds of Middle-Earth,” you joked, rinsing out the cloth again before bringing it up to his face to wipe the remainder of the grime away. He opened his eyes, a childish grin appearing on his face at your words.

“Then you have done a fantastic job in removing it all.” He paused, then narrowed his eyes at you in playful suspicion. “At least I assume you have removed it all, and haven’t just smeared it all around my face?” He poked a dirty finger into your cheek, making you laugh and jerk backward to stop him spreading muck everywhere. Elrond stopped moving abruptly, catching your hand and studying a finger. “You’re bleeding.” He blinked at the dried blood on your pointer finger. “Or is that mine?”

“Oh. I had not even realised. I must have stabbed myself with the needle earlier. Really, it is nothing, Elrond.” He didn’t let go however, still looking concerned that you had hurt yourself while tending to him.

“But if you are hurt-”

“Which one of us was brutally stabbed by an Orc blade? And nearly died?”

“I did not nearly die, melethel, you are being dramatic.”

“As are you, Elrond. I barely even noticed the prick of the needle.” He had brought your hand close to his face, and somehow your body had gone with it. The hand that held the cloth was bracing your weight next to Elrond’s hand, your fingers just touching, and your face was so close to his that you could feel the soft brush of air that he let out every time he breathed. It was so typical of Elrond to be more concerned for others when he himself was the one that needed to be worried over, and it only made you love him more.

“If you say so,” he hummed, shifting his hold on your hand so that he could bring his lips to the tip of your finger where you had stuck yourself with the needle, pressing the smallest kiss to it. Your breath caught again, and he noticed the hitch. “Melethel? What is it, did I hurt you?” His eyes widened and he rushed to rectify the mistake he thought he had made. “I am so so sorry, I did not mean-”

“You did not hurt me, Elrond, for goodness’ sake!” You cut him off, exasperated and feeling very warm.

“Then why-” he broke off, eyes searching your face and studying the most likely very visible flush to your features. “Oh,” he said, softer than a leaf of one of the trees of Lindon falling to the earth. You swore his pupils dilated a little, and he tilted his head back ever so slightly as realisation dawned on him. “Oh.” He let go of your hand, fingers slowly moving to your jaw to turn your face back towards his after you had looked to the side in an attempt to hide from the intensity of his gaze.

“Elrond, what- what?” Your hand he had been holding was now on his shoulder, keeping you upright along with the arm he had somehow snaked around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Are you- do you…” he fumbled over his words, something he very rarely did, and through the haze of wondering how you had ended up in this situation, his fingers cupping your jaw while his other hand rested on your lower back and he stared into your eyes, flicking between them both to see if he could read you, you felt a swell of pride that you of all people had made Herald Elrond of Lindon speechless.

“Do I what?” you asked, as gently as you could. The hand you had rested on his shoulder was now toying with a strand of hair that curled under his ear against his neck, your other braced on his chest (which you were just now remembering was unclothed), and a small smile was on your face. You knew that he knew the truth now - how could he not? But he wanted to hear it, as did you, because the fear that he might be wrong was lingering and if he was wrong, he might hurt you, which was the last thing Elrond ever wanted to do.

“Do you feel it?” he whispered, eyes similar to that of a wolf cub you had once seen, wide and innocent, but entirely Elrond in the blown out pupils and spark of knowing that he carried. His nose was brushing yours, breath fanning over your face, and now it was your turn to tilt your head back to meet him. “Do you feel that whenever we are apart… your heart aches for the space where I should be stood? That whenever we are together I am complete because you are there and you are so bright and wonderful that you take my breath away more often than I would care to admit - do you feel that too?”

“How could I not, Elrond? How could I not feel that?” You felt the tension dissipate from his shoulders, his body sagging forwards into yours just a little, the action causing his face to come even closer to yours, angled slightly upwards from where he was an inch lower than you sat on the cabinet.

You couldn’t breathe again, but this time it was because Elrond had pressed his lips to yours so cautiously that you thought you might melt into him. His fingers on your jaw were warm, not urging you one way or the other but just anchoring you, as he always had done from the moment you had met, letting you decide what happened next. You broke off first, resting your forehead against his and catching your breath, and he swallowed thickly, moving to place tiny kisses against your jawline and cheek, pausing only to murmur your name into your skin. Your hand buried itself in his hair, fingers tangling in the curls and knocking out the dust and dirt that had stuck there. It had long since dried of sweat, but the strands were greasy and needed washing, and that thought combined with the memory that he had a wound in his side were enough to make you pull back even further. “You should have a bath,” you said when he looked up at you with adoring but concerned eyes. He paused for a moment, frozen in place while he contemplated what you had said, and then he chuckled, the sound low in his throat.

“Are you saying I smell, melethel?”

“Yes. Come, I’ll get a bath ready for you.”

“And if I would rather stay here?” His fingers had started lightly stroking your jaw, and with the way he was looking at you it was becoming harder and harder to leave his embrace. You managed to wrinkle your nose and step back, a strength you hadn’t known you possessed taking over and making you move.

“I’m not kissing you again until you have bathed, Elrond.” He sighed dramatically, retracting his arms and standing up, wincing slightly and favouring his non-injured side while you started transporting water from over the fire.

“Truly? You really would leave me here?”

“If it gets you over here faster, then I shall get in with you.” You had never seen the elf move so quickly before, pulling off his boots and drawing out towels for when the bath was finished with. He hesitated with his trousers, then decided to keep them on, glancing at you to see what you were doing. You were already watching him, making a decision of your own before starting to pull at the strings holding your robes together.

“You don’t have to-”

“Oh I’m keeping my underclothes on, but I shall likely sink right to the bottom if I keep these thick robes on.” He looked relieved, and you stifled a laugh as you headed for the dresser where your clothes were kept, pulling out a pair of fresh trousers. “Here, get changed first if you’re keeping trousers on; you’ll dirty the water immediately.”

He complied, heading behind the partition in the corner of the room and re-emerging a few moments later to find you already in the bath, eyes closed in contentment at the feel of the warm water on your skin. Elrond lifted your head, pushing you forward gently so that he could clamber in behind you and settle back against the tub. You heard him grunt when his wound his the water, and turned to see his face scrunched in pain. “Are you alright?”

“I am alright. Just don’t lean on my side.” He helped you turn in the tub so that you were sideways against him, his wound kept out of the danger of being pressed down upon.

You stayed in the bath until it got cold and your fingers wrinkled, having washed the dirt off of each other with one of the towels Elrond had brought over, and then when you got out you dried each other off and redressed in fresh clothes, hanging up the wet fabric and making for the bed, curling up next to each other, your head on his chest. Sleep came easily to you, Elrond’s body creating a warmth under you that made up for the dying fire in the cold room, and at some point your breathing matched his.

For now, you could be content in peace. Another battle would come, the war not yet won, and Sauron’s armies would be at your doors again soon. But not yet. They would need time to gather strength again, to marshal and be ready, and so you had time too before Elrond had to leave again, and time to breathe before you would be sat waiting, and waiting, and take in air before it was stolen from you when he kissed you goodbye.

#elrond peredhel #elrond x reader #elrond rings of power #rop elrond

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crystallizsch · 3 months

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“Oh? *I* get to be in charge of our lovely Princes? Hehe. I graciously accept the challenge.”

[SR] Yuusha Tala -> GROOOOVY!! Glimmering Soirée (fan event by @starry-night-rose)

Groooovy!!: Hehe. If you want to dance with me, you’re gonna have to keep up with me first.

Set Home: Yeah, yeah… I know I’m just a glorified attendant and I don’t really have any say over the Princes... Look, just let me have this.

Home Idle 1: Helping Deuce act like a Prince has been really hilarious. But credit where credit is due, seeing him try his best is really charming.

Home Idle 2: Wow. Somehow Azul became less insufferable after being trained as a Prince. ….Wait. Nevermind. He’s still the same.

Home Idle 3: Kalim and Hornton seem to be a natural at this. I guess I should have expected that. It’s really nice to see them shine.

Home Idle - Login: Has anyone seen Grim? I swear I saw him lurking around here somewhere…

Home Idle - Groovy: I could go for "Belle of the Ball" if I really wanted to, especially since I'm the one who helped take care of everything after all. But alas, why would you vote for the magicless prefect..? Wait, unless.….

Home Tap 1: Where did I put that ghost camera? I was just holding it just a while ago… Huh? It’s around my neck? Well, that’s embarrassing. Oh stop laughing at me, will ya?

Home Tap 2: The others say I’m like a different person when I go into "manager" mode. …And they say it either like a compliment or an insult so I’m getting mixed messages.

Home Tap 3: Ugh. This cape is cool and all but people keep getting caught by it. So annoying.

Home Tap 4: Would I compete in being the Belle of the Ball if I wasn't taking care of the Princes? Depends. Would you vote for me? ~ ♡ …What do you mean you’ll give me a "pity" vote.

Home Tap 5: No, I’m not staring "longingly" at that band! …But hypothetically, do you think they’d let me play an instrument with them?

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh, wow. Crazy that they totally just left this violin here. Hmmm…..

notes:

i had fun with the voice lines aaah but it might have some changes when i’m done with the groovy (and i’ll properly put her in an actual card template)

also slight lore drop from one of the voice lines: yuusha has experience hosting formal parties pre-twst. basically she just locks in (a bit too heavily) when she has hosting duties.

(some of the voice lines also foreshadow the groovy 👀)

anyways i was just messing around a lot with the outfit design and the colors hgsdfjds

i tried my best making her purple color scheme agree with the limited color palette and i think it worked out??? idk idk--

also the cape was supposed to have patterns similar to the ceremonial robes so as to label her as someone from nrc.

i wanted to include a LOT more ruffles too but i had no patience for lining all of that 🤧

(bonus sketches/concepts below)

at first i based off her suit on hans frozen but then (because of pinterest giving me ideas) i realized i wanted a more fun outfit and so here i am-

(also help me i meant to have the voice lines to be just talking to anyone but it just hit me that it sounds like she’s talking to jamil 💀 girl they just can’t leave me alone they live in my head 24/7 rent-free)

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felassan · 25 days

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Thoughts on the DA:TV Companion Concept Art:

General

I love that we saw these and I think the art is beautiful!! it's so cool seeing different versions of a character, different ideas for a character, and how things translated from concept arts into the character models in the game. I can't waaait to look through the rest of The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard, with a fine-toothed comb!!

each character has iconic color palettes and iconic shapes and stuff :)

I feel like there is a lot to examine in these pictures, even with the spoilery text redacted!! 🔍🔍

I'm so extremely curious about what the redacted text says. 👁️

It looks like the geometric patterns drawn behind the characters are slightly different each time?

In the ones where multiple different outfits are shown for the character, do you suppose that these are only discarded concept ideas, or are some similar to some of the alternate outfits for the companions that we can find or upgrade for them in the game?

in some of the pages, there appears to be additional parts of the page blanked out/redacted rather than just the paragraph of text. I wonder if there are small text captions or even additional small drawings in those spaces that also needed to be redacted for spoiler reasons 👁️

In some of the sections below I just described what part of the art I was referring to, in others I popped in images because I was finding it hard to describe what I meant ^^

Also, the associated tweet mentions the BioWare Gear Store-exclusive variant of the artbook. The link in it just takes you to the general Gear Store website landing page at the moment. At the moment, the BioWare Gear Store variant of the artbook is out of stock (it went out of stock really quickly after release). However, CM Violet mentioned in the Discord that "We are planning on another printing [of the Gear Store variant of the art book], but no date yet! I'm sure we'll announce it when we have more news!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Bellara

Bellara's page is the only one I think with no name. did her name have to be redacted too bc of a spoilery reason?

I LOVE Bellara's pages. she's just so 🥺 (clenching my fist). some aspects of the design of Bellara's clothes remind me of butterflies or butterfly wings.

Left: the angle of this one reminds me of her party icon art. Center: this one shows a different design concept for her vallaslin. in this one she also has different earrings. in the full version of this drawing, it looks like she is holding some kind of tool in her hand (makes sense considering her Tinker ability), while in her other hand it's a piece of cloth, reminding me of the way mechanics are sometimes drawn holding rags during their work. her posture in the full version of this drawing is like 'You can fit sooo many triangles inside this bad boy [the giant elf head artifact/sculpture]'. hhh. Right: can anyone make out what the text above her bag says? ^^ btw, this bag design is so cute. edit: thankyou to @squidaped-oyt who mentioned in the replies of this post that this looks like it says "Foldable map"! more on that here.

HELLO??, this ancient elven sculpture/artifact thing is extremely 👀. the scale of it compared to Bellara is massive. there are beams of light coming from its eyes and the triangle set in its forehead. the triangular parts are a now-familiar aspect of ancient elven magic-tech and artifacts. the nose bridge reminds me of the design of elven nose bridges circa Dragon Age II - only he has a pointed part on his in addition. the bald head we're all familiar with from ancient elven statues, in-world murals/wall paintings etc. is it just me, or are the teeth also pointy? I wonder what this thing is.. was it just decorative (a head of a giant statue)? (this kind of thing in this Veil Jumper/Arlathan Forest concept art comes to mind). was it an art piece representative of a particular Evanuris or one of their chosen? or did it have some kind of actual function - maybe it was part of a giant protective automaton kinda thing? what this head really reminds me of is Codex Entry: Vir Dirthara: Signs of Victory -

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a monument made in a single afternoon by a thousand-thousand toiling servants swarming over a lump of fallen stone as large as a collapsed mountain. By the end of the day, the stern figure of Elgar'nan stares down into a valley, carved out from the foothills of the rock. The slaves have disappeared. Light radiates from the eidolon's narrowed eyes and its open, snarling mouth. "Hail Elgar'nan, first among the gods! Mark his victory eternal!"

Could this be [part of] one of those sorts of monuments/eidolons? It sure looks like it's snarling through its open mouth. And it has narrowed eyes and light is radiating from them.

The other things it reminds me of are: 1. the ancient elven sentinels (the magic-bot kind, not the Abelas and crew in Temple of Mythal kind), two. like maybe it's a giant one of these. 2. these big ancient elven hands and the Dead Hand landmark (see Trivia section) in DA:I, which is found in the Dales and contains an elven shrine and is not far from Ghilan'nain’s Grove.

Horace Medford wrote of that landmark,

"The great stone hand was something of a mystery. One assumes it is a piece broken off from a larger whole. If so, judging by the size of that one hand, I imagine the entire sculpture to be... well, large enough to require the use of obscenities to describe it. Thus I have only one question: where is the rest of the statue? It is difficult to imagine how something so large could go missing."

like maybe the head from Bellara's concept is the giant head to a similar kind of pair of giant hands (of either type).

(^ post which discusses these both here)

Left: the way this bracelet thing is worn gives it the impression of a watch, which is cool and fits her machinist/inventor kinda vibe/aesthetic :) Center: the cloth, a bit dirty from active use (what a thoughtful touch), tucked into her belt :) Right: I love the eyepiece/monocle look!! It's giving Artificer, it's giving gadgets. does anyone else think Bellara and Dagna would get on super well? 💜

These are all super interesting and I love that they were thinking about the different parts of Bellara's kit and belongings like this. in the top row, it looks like the book on the left is the closed version of the book on the right. Bellara's book full of research notes :D what I wouldn't give to browse through it!! I love how she's filled it with different bookmarks, it gives you an insight into her mind and the way it works. on the front is one of those ancient elven golden faces (like on Solas' armor's knees in Trespasser, on the Sentinels in the Temple of Mythal, on the ancient elven Deluxe edition of DA:TV armors, etc). inside, it looks like she has pressed a flower, which is so lovely. on the right-hand page, I'm really curious about the drawings there. what is it of? a map, a diagram? it reminds me a bit of the map of Arlathan Forest in the Veil Jumper issue of Dragon Age: The Missing (and it would make sense for her to have a map, Arlathan Forest is changeable lately). and if you squint, maybe that's an 'X marks the spot'? also extremely curious is the drawing on the left-hand side of the page:

Who is this depicting? the figure's headshape/headpiece/mask reminds me a lot of the Evanuris headshapes. and the general vibe of the drawing reminds me of the ancient elven Evanuris mosaics (example). Sylaise-y? but maybe it's not an Evanuris and it's more like a figure from Bellara's past? the way the flower is pressed on this page makes it look tender, like memory. or if it was an Evanuris, it makes it look like an offering or token. perhaps Bellara's vallaslin correspond to Sylaise or whichever member it is. there was a time before the gods came back the way they did in DA:TV.

It's also really cool to get a look at the fold-out material thing. do you think she usually carries this rolled up at her belt or in her bag? it looks like somewhere where she stores various kinds of ancient elven triangle fragments, or maybe it's even some kind of strange map. A map of a bunch of different reality-fragmented Veil Bubbles or something would look really strange no doubt, not like a normal map.. edit: more on that here.

Davrin

It's neat to see different hairstyle versions of Davrin! the shape of the blue sword reminds me just a lil of Starfang, which is really nice. and we saw Davrin with a griffon-wing shield like there is in these concepts in the character reveal trailer.

Comparisons of the various vallaslin designs he has in his concept arts to the final one in the game. (in some of the concepts, his vallaslin look a bit bluer, which reminds me of his tarot-style art from the party selection screen). though, in the right-most version, it looks more kind of like a circlet, a Samara Mass Effect-type situation instead :)

This on his heel is totally a spur. makes sense, for a Warden that may one day be a griffon-rider like the Grey Wardens of old :') (at least in the sense of visual language, like "spur - riding - horse - griffon").

We see Davrin equipped with an additional dagger/shortsword like this in the warrior gameplay video, albeit not this specific one, if you go by the handles.

He maybe has some stubble here. ^^

In this version of Davrin, it looks like he has a staff. (though, he still has a sword here too). Is it a polearm kinda deal, or was there a time during development when Davrin was a mage? perhaps the elf in this concept art is a version of Davrin? that elf is wielding a staff to fight, and there are some similar aspects in the outfit designs, like the considerable collar.

interestingly, his staff here reminded me of the staff held by the elven figure on the front of the DA Vinyl art. 🤔

^ Looking at that staff-Davrin concept more generally, it's interesting that this version has more overtly Grey Wardenny-parts to his armor compared to his final look, like the griffon symbol on the chestplate and shoulder.

This Davrin holds out his arm, like a falconer. in Dalish culture, the hawk is a sacred animal of the Huntress Andruil.

And this Davrin straight up is a falconer. how cool!! due to image resolution I'm not sure if the darker parts on the raptor are parts of its plumage or accoutrements, but in falconry, the birds sometimes do wear these types of accoutrements. Falconer Davrin Concept reminds me of that one DA:I Dorian concept art where Dorian had a monkey haha. :D the attention to detail in Falconer Davrin is neat too, you can see that on the hawk-perch arm he has a thick extra cover on his arm, due to the sharpness of raptor talons and grip. I really love Falconer Davrin's griffon shoulderplate, and when looking at the more geometric diamond design of his vallaslin here, what struck me was its resemblance to the diamond geometric pattern behind him.

Harding

Harding is the only one on the concept art among the named characters there who is listed as her surname rather than her given name haha. she's just Harding just like Hawke is Hawke, that's just the way it is.

The flower and leaf pattern in the top left is cute, I wonder if it was inspiration for the flower and leaf stitching Harding has on the collar of her casual clothes in the game. In the concept art it looks like the kind of design that you might have on the leatherwork on the front cover of a beautiful leatherbound journal or something. :) In the central picture she's holding and appreciating a blue flower, which is so cute ♡ and which ties to what was said about her loving plants, raising plants, and nature. she has what looks like the Inquisition hairy eyeball symbol on her belt pouch as well as on her knee pads. (;;) the version of her to the left of that shows her with her hair down, in a more pony-tail like sort of style. on that version of her, you can see flower and leaf floral patterns curling up the bottom of her cape. (very pretty).

To the right of the central image, there's a big diagonal blank rectangle of content which has been removed, presumably due to spoiler reasons. Was this also text? It seems like a weird angle to have placed text at. Maybe it's a drawing of an object of some kind being hidden? A different version of her bow perhaps? (this is the case in a few of the companion concept arts btw.)

The tailored coat and pinstripe pants version of her is so cool. :D look at the tails on the back of her coat in that image. dapper. Harding formal wear? :D

of course, the two most !! images from Harding's one are these ones. copying over my thoughts from that post,

Presumably this is to do with Harding’s new magical stoney earthy powers. (In the second image, along with the bow, it looks like half her face, part of her neck and her arm itself is also stone/crystal). The glass-like shiny parts reminds me of quartz or something. :)

I do wonder if (if they are still things in the game) perhaps those two images or the stoney parts of them could also potentially have done with being redacted for spoiler reasons? how I wish the Harding image was higher resolution so we could take a closer look at stone-Harding..! somewhere off in the distance, Varric "haha, you'd be Harding in Hightown" Tethras is like "haha, Harding, you're hard/hardening" hhhh. 💀

In the image with her hood up, the blue veins on the bow remind me of blue lyrium veins. I also wonder, is she holding the stone/crystal bow with her stone/crystal arm, or is the bow simply growing from the arm? does the hard surface of her body when it's like this repel or take less damage owing to its hardness? is this something she might be able to do in gameplay later on as her story (and powers) progress?

it stands to reason that if you can turn other people/things to stone, as she did to some ghouls in the release date reveal trailer, you might also be able to extend this power to yourself. presumably this ability is tied to the Titans, the dwarves as their children, the Stone, maybe a restored (in Harding's case) connection to that, the way dwarves used to be. it also reminds me of how golems are created using live dwarves. Caridin said "It allowed me to forge a man of steel or stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier." 👀

Btw, speaking of Harding's magical powers, I wonder if Harding dreams at night now..?

Lucanis

it looks like there's a spot on Lucanis' page other than the text at the top that is blanked out/redacted. I wonder what it contained.

part of the geometric designs behind him reminds me of his eyes motif.

some of the alternate outfits for him look really like, majestic. in the one with the manbun, he has big poufy shoulder pieces and huge sleeves.

I wonder if any concept art of clean-shaven Lucanis exists anywhere? ^^ I'm really curious about what he looks like clean-shaven, or without a beard as he was in The Wigmaker Job.

I'm losing my mind at all the different concept ideas for Lucanis' hair, especially the one with the curled forelock and LUCANIS MANBUN omg. but I like his feathery mullet that he has in the game the best. :D

The design and coloring of his sword is just so COOL. The oil-like iridescence, purple-black, is like corvid feathers.

What a lovely sketch, lovely pencilwork. ◕‿◕ his eyebrow is slightly raised and you can see here again that his nose is slightly 'crooked' (perhaps he's broken it in the past?). I love this sort of feature sm in every character that has it.

In this one his eyes are doing the glowing purple thing again. again he is not defeating the possessed/dead/abomination/-somethingelserelatedorsimilar-is-going-on with him allegations. this one has a hood in an Assassin's Creed sorta style and the general vibe is like a ninja. the shoulder pieces look feathery, and the cloak/coat looks like feathered wings or tailfeathers. this piece feels the most "The Demon of Vyrantium" in vibe hh 👁️ And are you guys seeing this?? Here it looks like has claws like Wolverine hh!! :D though he could simply also be holding multiple knives in between his fingers (of the sort you can see at his belt in another concept, I've put that one just below here to show them), or have a bladed gauntlet, etc.

This person coming at you in the night, no wonder the evil Venatori magisters are scared of him :)

Coffee, no doubt :) cool mug shape.

Bird design again on this leg-piece.

Left: a take on the now-iconic Antivan Crow bird-masks. really cool design. here it's giving Batman, it's giving masquerade ball. I really hope we see him wearing a Crow bird mask of this sort at some point during the game!! 🧎🕯️🧎 it's a big missed opportunity if not imo hh. Right: Lighthouse casual-wear, or something very close to it. his vibe in this art is also similar to his vibe in the Lighthouse group shot.

Veilguard symbol on his chest? some of the alternate outfits include a more Veilguardy purple to them, and this one reminds me of how the Veilguard symbol looks for Rook here for example.

Lastly, in this main one, his general shape is sooo triangular. :D and his face/expression here really captures this description of him from Tevinter Nights:

Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn’t look away from—until he looked at you.

In this one I also get the sense of dark circles under his eyes, which is a trait that in fiction reminds me of coffee-drinkers. ^^

Emmrich

Both staffs in Emmrich's concept art are different to the one we see him with here, but the bigger one on the concept art is close to it.

In this concept it looks like Emmrich has a scar on his chin.

Left: without his jacket on, he looks so svelte. the gold parts on his boots/knees remind me of the gold headpieces fixed to walking dead in the Necropolis. they are also hexagonal in shape, which I've become convinced is part of Nevarra's visual design language (and therefore part of Nevarran architecture, fashion/culture etc. :D he has so many bracelets and rings. Center: he looks so happy here and in the one next to it! these versions of Emmrich seem to lean more to the purple side of his color palette. these ones have a sorta futuristic vibe. you can see some of the tools of his trade at his belt, and it's a different version of his staff. here the skull floats at the top of the staff and burns with green fire, rather than being fixed to the pole of the staff. Right: Emmrich with big hair! quiff-like, and it looks like a large part of it is white rather than gray.

in this alternate outfit he's wearing a work apron with tools of his trade on the front. he's holding a glass flask that is filled with green liquid and billowing green smoke. I wonder if Emmrich is skilled at alchemy? do you think he has a lab, or that his room in the Lighthouse might be filled with stuff like alembics?

Looking again at Emmrich's outfit in these arts - from the back, the back of his coat reminds me of depictions in art and tv/film of the blood eagle?? (if you are sensitive or squeamish to gore and things of that nature, please don't google that!). the lines on the back of his shoulders remind me of musculature. The repeating pieces down the center of the bottom part of his coat reminds me of a spine. and the back of his gold belt-piece from behind straight up looks like a pelvis. the skeleton and body imagery here is an amazing art direction/symbolism for him!! what a bigbrain idea. is that sort of detailing why the design of the front of his coat looks like someone's chest has been opened on an operating table?

also, the long coat reminds me of labcoats. :)

I wonder if the bracelets and things are a Nevarran cultural thing/common fashion in Nevarra, or more of just an Emmrich thing? ^^

lastly his expression in the one on the right is so gentle and kind.

Neve

There are two spots on Neve's page other than the text at the top that are blanked out/redacted. I wonder what they contained.

I love that they tried out differing concept/designs for the look of Neve's leg, and what looks like a stand for it as well. they're all really neat and you can see serpentine aspects in all of them. a person could also have more than one.

this image contains another great reference for Neve's wand-cane thing. here the orb in the middle looks like a big pearl, like from inside a mollusk. the ring around it is definitely evoking the body of a snake coiling.

The concept art contains a blond version of Neve. because of her ice powers, it reminds me a bit of Emma Frost (Marvel). look at that Neve's heeled boot, and the size of her hat!!

I prefer the Neve they decided to go with in the end. ♡♡ ^^

Taash

oh my goooood. breathing in and out rapidly into a paper bag. oh my godd. she looks sooo cool!! I'm posting the whole thing again here just bc omggg.

Most versions of Taash have the green crystal horn. her concept arts show versions with different skin colors. her eyes in some of them look green. I love all her different-version Lord of Fortune / Rivaini gold pieces. in the top-left hand version of her, her bigger shoulder-piece is really cool (the right-hand side one); it could at once be a piece of spiky dragon bone or a piece of a big spiky sea-shell (both ideas work perfectly for her character and background). I've said this before when talking about Taash's design, but I love the parrot-break design of one of her weapons. it's very piratey. in this page, we can see several different versions of the parrot-beak weapon. also, I love all her different facial expressions.

in the right-most Taash concept, the dragon tooth-like pointy bits on her gauntlets look like they're made out of gold, not tooth. her big piratey boots are so cool and they even have a gold coin on them! you can see the spike braided into the end of her ponytail, and in that drawing the dragonscale-looking parts of her iconic armor look even more scaley, owing to the way they graduate from a full covering of scales to a partial covering to not present (in a way that reminds of how on some fantasy arts of things like dragons, there can be softer/less protected areas of their hide with no or less scales, like towards their undersides):

The bottom-left most illustration looks like it might be her iconic armor, only seen from the back, which is good to have a reference of. the design of her sword scabbard is cool, it's like the segmented flat of a dragon or sea-serpent's tail. in that image it also looks like the eye of her parrot-weapon is matched by an eye on the scabbard. something about the designs of her sword and scabbard remind me of weapons like daos. from behind, it also looks like her gauntlets might have thicker armor on one-side, better protection for the upper side of her forearms. the fingers of her gauntlets also look taloned, in a way that reminds me of Fenris.

Okay now let's talk about the concept in the center at the top! this version has longer horns and more spikes in her ponytail, in fact the ponytail here looks like a dragon tail as a result. it reminds me of Flemeth's dragony hair from Dragon Age II onwards. this version also looks like she may have blue-ish facial tattoos, or it could be vitaar. it also looks like she may have a second, smaller set of horns. in this version, the red ropes are cyan-blue instead, and she not only has the spikes/teeth on her gauntlets, but also on her boots (knee 'pad' and the heel, like spurs). in this version, her swords are dragon wing-shaped, which is pretty metal. I can't tell if the triangular piece that hangs down in the center is from the front piece of her clothing or the back piece, but it gives the impression of a dragon tail.

Lastly, the concept in the center at the bottom: here her boots remind me a lot of Dragon Age II Isabela, who is of course, also a piratey type of character from Rivain. the giant axe here is cool, the shape of its blade also evokes the shape of a dragon wing and it looks like the handle might be made of bone. the way she's carrying the axe here reminds me a bit of how Iron Bull carries his weapon in this art piece. the teal and gold color scheme of this piece reminds me of the gold and blue/green of some Ancient Egyptian things, and round her neck it looks like she is wearing a torc.

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williaml0ver · 7 months

Note

Ok ok ok, hear me out- Naib x a charismatic!sunshine!reader who tries his best to cheer everyone up in the manor 👀👀

☆ <3 Naib Subedar With a Sunshine Like s/o ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1213

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, Naib's a little grumpy

[🖇️] author's note: first of all THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVER i'm emotional thank you so much 😭🫂 i honestly wasn't sure how to portray reader's personality well sooo this may not entirely be focused around it but i tried my best in sneaking some traits here and there, hope you'll enjoy this!

☆ ☆ ☆

-You make his stay at the gloomy manor more bearable.

-Wouldn't understand you at first, because what's so nice and exciting about having to stay in this cursed place?

-He would have some suspicions towards you. He would be convinced that you're hiding some cruel intentions behind this bright smile. You would quickly notice how strange he's acting around you, and yeah, he is kind of stiff around most people, but you're feeling a whole new level of coldness here.

-Naib's attitude would spark amusement among other manor residents, at some point the rumous get to you.

-What can you say, you did feel surprised, thought felt a little bad for the mercenary, his life was probably filled with many dangerous moments and he grew cautious of his surroundings. Who can blame him?

-You decided to get closer to him, step by step. Start with something small, like initiating short conversations. His answer would be very short at first. That challenge is not for the faint hearted. You won't give up.

-Naib would just notice a weird pattern how you recently started talking to him more and eventually sense danger. He'd make himself clear and possibly threaten you.

-I think the best way to make him let his guard down is to have a honest conversation with him. Let him known your thoughts. Naib, slowly, would actually open up to you.

-Whenever in a bad mood, he would unconsciously be looking forward to seeing you again. There's just something about your smile, positive attitude and the little jokes you make. He craves comfort.

-Let's make this clear: he has no idea why you're being so kind towards HIM. He'd see you casually handing out small trinkets and laughing together with other people who did much more evil things than him, but he would still be in denial, does he really deserve this?

-Yet something would make him appreciate your way of being. Something would make him want to be near you, spend more time with you... get together with you?

-Yeah, it was a hard thing for him to admit he's got a crush. How awkward would that be... he definitely isn't saying that out loud.

-Funny thing is that you've also grown fond of the green hooded boy. Overly grown. There just was something about his cautiousness and hints of mystery. You quickly spotted how diffrently he started treating you compared to others lately. You even caught him softly smiling during your small talk.

-It wasn't long until you became a couple. One would think Naib would not make the first move, however he wished to show his gratitude to you, he just wasn't sure how!

-The mercenary ended up giving you a simple boquet of flowers. But what really touched you was his speech. He was usually a man of few words, so you quickly understood how important this was to him. His speech felt very honest and emotional: Naib was touched by so many things you have done for him, although for you they were something absolutely ordinary.

-He would feel relieved that you accepted his feelings and feel shocked finding out you feel the same.

-Spending time with you on a daily basis made him change his personality a little. Yes, he would still be THE mercenary when needed, no doubt, but overall he'd become more open. Seeing him go from someone very closed off to a suprisingly cheeky person made you melt. You felt glad that you helped him grow.

-Isn't afraid of showing PDA.

-Whenever someone new enters the Oletus manor they would immediately feel like this is some inside joke between the both of you, because how would that even make any sense? A cold hearted mercenary walking hand in hand with the literal definition of a ray of light? Truth is, you are a great match for Naib! Your relationship is perfectly balanced.

-Perfect example of a grumpy/cheerful duo.

-It was not a rare sight to see the mercenary utterly tired after his matches. Being a rescuer was a demanding position. It was a good thing other players trust and depend on him, but on the other hand the big pressure can cause a huge toll on his calmness.

-If someone got chaired, everyone else expects Naib to go to the rescue, even if he's currently far, far away. Of course, Naib learnt to control stress and work in difficult situations much before he even found out about the manor, but that didn't change the fact that post-match he'd isolate himself from everyone else.

-From everyone else besides you.

-You are his escape from reality. His soft spot. Naib has no idea how you've did it, but you managed to win him over completely. You're always trying to make him smile with this mysterious comforting aura, whether it's with words of affirmation and telling him he's done all in his power, how strong and devoted he is or with gentle touches, like holding his hand and kissing his palms.

-It's therefore no secret that during his bad days he wants you to be near.

-You can spend several together hours together just laying and cuddling. He lives for your smile.

-Naib appreciates how you comfort him after tough days and he comforts you in hours of need as well:)

-I wouldn't say he's very private when it comes to pda, though he's not overly affectionate in public either. He would have absolutely NO SHAME. You're needy for his attention but there are other survivors around? Don't worry! Naib is already patting his lap, awaiting you. He loves how you don't care what others think of your behaviour.

-Does not care about his reputation anymore. Those people know you are his soft spot. Just because he's gentle with you doesn't mean he's going to be merciful for everyone else. Someone dare to complain about you being annoying - they would be quickly receiving the glare.

-Naib would ALWAYS feel very protective over his s/o, no matter what personality would they have. He is a mercenary, a soldier, if his loved one wouldn't have a thing against being with someone like this, he'd become a total keeper as long as he is breathing.

-And when you're so positive almost all the time? Wanting to make sure everyone is feeling good? He would be all over you. A lot of, if not most people, residing in the manor were, to put it simply, bad people, so to have someone so pure next to him would turn him quite possesive.

-Of course, he is aware you are not stupid. You are aware of who the people you spend time with are. The world is not all unicorns and rainbows, you know that. He's going to understand if you show you're feeling uncomfortable with being constantly monitored. He'd try to withdraw from doing it but sometimes Naib can't help it. It's both the protectivness and the jealousy.

-When jealous, Naib would love to come near you and the person you're talking with, hug you from behind and be very affectionate. At some point you both gain the reputation of those people you'd see in citties kissing and making everyone feel awkward according to other people in the manor. Naib loves it.

☆ ☆ ☆

Wishing you guys a good day/night 🫂🫂🫂

#idv #idv x reader #identity v #naib subedar #idv hcs #naib subedar x reader #identity v x reader #idv mercenary

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astaroth1357 · 1 year

Text

My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer

TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.

Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:

First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.

Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.

The New! (Old) Cast

Lucifer:

Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.

He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.

By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.

Mammon:

Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).

Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...

Leviathan:

I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)

I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.

There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.

Satan:

Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.

Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.

What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.

Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!

Asmodeus:

They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.

Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.

Beelzebub:

This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.

First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.

Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.

Belphegor:

Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.

TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.

Diavolo:

Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.

WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...

Barbatos:

Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.

Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.

Simeon:

There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.

Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.

I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?

Luke:

Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.

The Rat Bastard Solomon:

I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.

He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...

That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.

So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....

I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.

Nightbringer:

Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.

I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.

The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?

I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.

My crackpot theory?

Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.

#i may do ONE LAST analysis post #over my speculation #and just weird stuff I saw #but after that #it’s back to the normal content #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me nightbringer #obey me analysis #obey me nightbringer analysis #om spoilers #omn spoilers #obey me spoliers #obey me nb spoilers #obey me nighbringer spoilers

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beautifulterriblequeen · 2 months

Note

Do you have any observations about which hand Runaan uses? You mentioned it in a post, and now I'm curious about it since I haven't noticed anything about that myself :3

Runaan's hands, you say 👀 Right this way please because I sure do!

My theory is that Runaan is a sort of mix between right-handed and left-handed, that isn't just being ambidextrous. I'm sure he is, as a trained assassin, but there's more weight to it than that. Which hand he uses first seems to have meaning to him, so he reaches with intent.

Let's start with this image from S6E9, which sums up Runaan's hand preferences:

Right hand on Ethari's pendant, left hand on his sword. He's had a split in his hand preferences since S1.

He uses his right hand first when he's doing something soft, like bringing his husband in for a kiss, or hugging Rayla after she saved his life.

And he uses his left hand first when he's doing something hard, like killing humans, or trying to kill his own daughter.

I think Rayla knows this secret assassin hand language, because when she reaches for Runaan to bring him back, she takes his left hand - the one he commits crimes with - in her right. She accepts all of him, even the stabby dark parts that literally tried to kill her, because she loves him unconditionally.

Most of the time, Runaan's swinging both swords equally. It's his fighting style. But when he chooses to use only one hand by itself, these are the patterns I've noticed.

This seems to be wholly separate from his hand stimming, which he just seems to use to regulate his emotions. And then there's the way he cries little tears all the time (seriously he has tears in his eyes/on his cheeks in so many different scenes) and pretends he isn't (sir we see you having Feelings).

Runaan is a character who's full of things to say, but they're all silent and only readable if you look really closely. He's a book in small print!

Thanks for the chance to infodump about my blorbo!

#asks #thanks for the ask!#runaan #runaan's hands #the right vs left is another one of those subtle biblical themes #tied to why aaravos is left handed i expect #and why viren did things left handed when aaravos was controlling him #theoretically anyone aaravos controls should go left handed #hold on i gotta look something up rq

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strongheartneteyam · 1 year

Text

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

Chapter 5

CW: dubious consent, mentions of NON CON, neteyam yearning for reader, angst all over, you can see the sexual tension with your naked eyes, possessive neteyam, feelings of general and sexual confusion, mentions of sexual fluids, talks of being sexually aroused, sexual content, tsaheylu is mentioned, reader is still scared of Neteyam but she longs for him too, fear kink (if you squint), mentions of blood, size kink (if you really squint), primal [hunter/prey] kink (if you squint HARD), crying, strong language, the word "harassment" is mentioned, MAY BE TRIGGERING to some people, mentions of exophilia, indecisive reader, heartbroken Neteyam, heartbroken reader. Please, tell me if I missed anything important!

I slept a lot during the day yesterday and was up until late with my bf having dinner, watching YouTube etc and, when he went to sleep, I was restless, still didn't feel like sleeping so, I decided to edit and finish this chapter that was being kept in my Docs for way too long, it was getting dusty 😂 So, I might have stayed up until morning in the zone editing and finishing this 👀 I'm REALLY sleepy and exhausted rn, so, if some parts of this chapter don't really make sense, try to have empathy for my poor tired being and forgive me <3 I'm aware that I'm a hot mess who has insomnia and needs to get a grip and not put her art above healthy sleeping habits but what can I do? I'm one of those chaotic artists who have a hectic, unstable life and feel the most alive when they're immersed in their craft, running away from their problems, pouring their whole soul into their works 🤷🏻‍♀️

Not proofread. Me. too. tired. 💤 I'll do it ASAP! hope you guys like this. 🤍😘 comments will ALWAYS be incredibly appreciated.

Chapter 4

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

From lashes to ashes and from lust to dust

In your sweetest torment I am lost

And we sense the danger but don't want to give up

It's heartache every moment, from the start 'til the end

It's heartache every moment with you

Heartache Every Moment (HIM)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You stared at Neteyam, at his big face, covered with stripes and fascinating bioluminescent freckles, leaving unique patterns all over his blue skin.

Even though he was kneeling down, doing everything he could to seem smaller and not so scary, to make you feel less intimidated by his size, his face was still way above your eyes, you still felt your neck hurt a little when you had to look up - straining your muscles, already sore from working too much - to gaze at his eyes.

"Oh, paskalin" (honey) "I could make you feel so good, you don't even know..." he was now even closer to you - you didn't even think it was possible but there he was, his massive frame making you feel smaller than ever. Fear of him snapping at you, in case you did something that didn't please, and hurting you was taking over your mind. You didn't know that Omatikaya boy, how could you trust him? "Give me a chance, be my mate and lemme show you how much pleasure I can give you, how I can make you feel safe and fulfilled in my arms after we make love. Like no fucking human male could ever do. Not like I would." Neteyam's fangs got prominent at that moment, and you could tell he was restraining himself from hissing at the thought of a human man having you in his arms. God, that had a name...

"Obsession." you thought

Despite those horrible feelings you were experiencing, his foreign accent still sounded weird but strangely fascinating to your ears, simultaneously. You hated yourself for feeling drawn to Neteyam, even though he was clearly stepping over your limits. You didn't know if maybe it was a na'vi courtship behavior for the male to get this close to the female, even if she hadn't shown any signs of wanting him to. But Neteyam wasn't exactly courting you, you thought. It was more like... straight up harassment, at least in human culture.

Your breath became heavier inside your oxygen mask when you thought about him using his fangs to draw blood from your skin in case you were able to be fast enough to go past where he was kneeling down next to you, and, tried to run away. With his incredibly slender, toned legs he could easily catch up with you in a millisecond and grab you, being free to do whatever he wanted to your small, defenseless human body. That thought made you feel like someone was knotting your intestines tight.

"Eywa... You're just so fucking pretty, even in this demon form, that I... I wanna do to you, right now, all I've been dreaming about, since I first saw you and you made my blood run hotter through my veins, such a fire you ignited inside me, syulang..." (flower)

Neteyam's breath was so heavy once out of his nostrils, clouding your mask, like he's controlling his urges, trying to hold back from touching you. You felt your knees weaken, fear and tension being the reasons why.

"Y-you don't want me, Neteyam. Not really. You just think you do. You're only intrigued by me because I look different from the girls you're used to. The na'vi girls." You didn't know how but you dug deep inside your chest and found the courage there to say that, looking into the alien's eyes.

Neteyam chuckled faintly, air coming out of his nose, in disbelief

"How can you say such thing, hì’i?"

"Hì..hì?" You tried to pronounce what you had just heard, in vain. You had no idea what that na'vi word meant. It's not like you knew that much of the na'vi language, anyway. You only knew the basic stuff that you had to study and learn to be able pass one of the tests that would determine if you were ready to get an Avatar body from the lab

"Hì'i." He corrected you, smiling wide and laughing quite a bit. "You're so silly and cute. Hì'i means "small in size" in my people's language. You are small, in this current physical form. But, let's talk about what's most important: what makes you think I don't really want you?"

"Because I am a demon to you, as you said. I am a human girl, not a na'vi girl." you said, rage slipping through your eyes. Why the hell was that crazy na'vi guy calling you a "demon", saying that he wants you sexually and calling you pet names, all at once?

"But you have an Avatar body. Nothing is preventing you from having your consciousness transferred for good to that body. If my father did it, so can you." The alien said, full of confidence. You wondered if he was going insane.

"And what makes you think I wanna do it?"

“My tawtute," (human) "I can smell you. I know you want me too. You're wet for me. Don't forget my senses are way sharper than what you're used to" Neteyam smiles calmly while enjoying the way your scent hit his nostrils. You felt your face flood with color, so much blood going directly to that part of your body as you felt incredibly embarassed when you heard those words. You had just realized your panties were soaked. "And, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you… Your juices smell so fucking delicious. You're driving me insane right now, yawne. I think that, at the end of the day, becoming my mate and making tsaheylu with me wouldn't be such a horrible experience for you."

Your thoughts cursed at you like crazy: "Damn it!! I must be kidding my own self!! Having a slight crush on him is one thing, getting fucking wet for him is something totally different! Do I have a fear kink, a rape kink or am I just into freaking exophilia?! For real, girl... There's gotta be something extremely wrong with you for you to be this turned on by the thought of this alien guy taking you by force."

"You're crazy! I'm not gonna be your mate! Just fucking let me go!" You wondered if you had just lost your mind to say and do that to Neteyam, being currently in your human body (if you were Dreamwalking it would obviously be safer) but you couldn't take all that was happening at that moment anymore. Your heart was beating too fast, like you were about to have a cardiac arrest. It was too much. You were overwhelmed.

You caught Neteyam off guard, the words you shouted stinged him so hard it left his very heart wounded, the muscles throbbing in pain. You noticed he seemed hurt, the sides of his mouth curled down faintly and his cat like ears were pointing towards the ground.

You felt bad for hurting his feelings. Even though he was disrespecting you, there was still enough empathy inside you to make you feel bad for making him suffer. You did not enjoy hurting people.

You inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm your nerves and, finally, you said:

"Look, I don't mean to be rude, even though you honestly deserve it. There's no excuse for what you're doing. You can't force me to be your mate. I'm not even na'vi! And don't start with that "You have an Avatar body" thing, please!" You breathe in deeply and let the air out slowly "I'm not your dad and I don't intend to follow his steps. I know very well I could die if I tried to go past Eywa's eye. Even if I wanted to get my consciousness transferred forever to my Avatar form, it's too damn risky. Plus, what makes you think I'd ever do it for you? I barely know you." You sighed, exhausted from it all. "Let me go back to my room. Please…?"

Neteyam looked tired and he was starting to feel defeated, like a soldier fighting in the front lines of a war who was losing his stamina after shooting way too many enemies in a very short period of time.

"I just wish you could…" it's like the words felt too rough against his throat, like it was too hard to talk at that moment "... could see that I won't hurt you." He sighed again "I know it feels weird and I'm big and scary, like you say…" His heart hurt at the reminder of your tough words "But I promise you - and I take promises very seriously. My parents taught me to do so, ever since I was old enough to understand their words - I would never lay a finger you." The expression on his face looked utterly serious, like he truly meant it. "Ever."

"You're hurting me with your actions, your words... the way you talk about me, about my body. I don't know about your culture, but it's pretty disrespectful in mine. I feel violated. I do think most of what the human race considers right or wrong is just bullshit, dumb society rules made up by even dumber people. But I have to agree with them on this one." You said

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, hì’i tawtute." (small human) Neteyam looked down at the floor and there was shame all over his face

"Opening my window for you was a mistake."

Neteyam looked at you with eyes filled with sadness

He got back on his feet and stepped away from you, staying now arguably a good amount of steps away from where you were standing.

"Please, don't say that…" Neteyam pleaded with tears in his eyes

"I'm sorry. I have to go."

༊⁀➷

Once you got back to your room, took your oxygen mask out of your face on autopilot and closed the window, you stared for a while at Neteyam's oddly tall figure, still standing in front of your room.

You looked at him and your heart broke. He looked so hurt. His big yellow irises shone insanely in the dark of the eclipse. But his eyes were tainted with tears. His dark braids fell onto his shoulders perfectly. He was incredibly beautiful. But why could you only let your guard down when he was away from you? When you were behind a glass and he was standing on the other side? It broke your heart to do that. But you also knew he was being too much. Too eager. Stepping over your limits and making you uncomfortable. But what if that was just his na'vi nature? You had heard before that the na'vi were humanoid but still animalistic. Maybe it was just… his primal instincts to find a mate. You wondered if maybe you were being too harsh on him. But you still felt like you could not and should not trust him. Even though you wanted to.

You watched him walk away, his shoulders pointing downwards, his posture showing he knew he had lost that battle.

You wondered if he would come back or if he would give up on you. You felt so idiotic. Why did you want him to come back? He was not treating you the way he should be, with respect for your boundaries.

You felt so confused. There was a lump in your throat. You felt like you were about to cry too.

Your hands were cold and you were feeling anxious and your chest was filled with angst. You wanted to scream Neteyam's name and ask him to come back. But you did not. You knew you shouldn't. It could awake someone. It could be dangerous. You should not trust Neteyam, you kept repeating in your mind.

Your feet started to move, almost as if they did it on their own, because it felt like your mind was somewhere else, like your brain was occupied with something else other than sending a message to your feet and tell them to take you back to your bed. You were lost in your thoughts. Dazed as hell.

Once you laid on your bed and covered your body with the warm sheets, you felt a sinking feeling of sadness and guilt bruising your chest. Hot, painful tears streamed down your face and the lump in your throat intensified. Why were you crying? And why were you thinking about Neteyam Suli while you cried?

You wondered if he could imagine that you were now crying, just like he was when he left.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@kitsunefirewail @tumblingdevils @a-blog-name-2003 @xylobee @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri @thehoneymushroomhealer @melllinaa @annaibansworld @siriuslysmoking @avatar4eva @ellabellabus07 @badbishsblog @neteyamsmate4life

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sebastianswallows · 1 year

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hello!! i started reading dangerous and delightful and i am so hooked on it LOL. i love how you write sebastian sm. i saw one of the tags was breeding kink 👀👀 and so i was hoping (if you are taking requests) if you would be able to put a little fic together for that? i don’t think i can wait for it to happen in the story and need something to satiate that thought now LOL

Alright so, this was a hard one 😂 But I finally have it for you, nonny. I'm sorry it took so long!

As I mentioned in that little preview snippet I posted the other day, I had a conflict on whether to write this as con or noncon, and ended up going with noncon cause it just... fits. And you said in another ask that you don't mind, so... I'm hoping it's all satisfactory 👀

Anyway, here goes! Probably the filthiest thing I've written for this fandom yet.

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader (characters are aged up)

— WARNINGS: smut, angst, noncon, vaginal penetration, breeding kink, size kink (Seb is a big boy), creampie, cunnilingus, dirty talk, a bit of bondage, wet & messy, manhandling, fingering

— WORDCOUNT: 12k (yes it's long af)

He kissed her. It was gentle, but his big broad hands held her face still and she couldn’t get away. She muttered into the kiss — in surprise, outrage, shyness — but wouldn’t know what to say even if she were allowed to speak. Sebastian’s soft lips caressed hers until he noticed that she wouldn’t stop struggling, and then he kissed her harder. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her body flush against his, and kept pressing himself into her — his chest, his legs, his mouth, even his breath that fanned hot and fast against her cheek. She moaned and mumbled and scratched her little nails against his shoulders, but it did nothing to stop him.

When he got tired of her trying to dislodge him, he parted his mouth from hers, frowned at her for a few frantic heartbeats, then lept down for another kiss while walking the two of them forward until her back was against the wall. The glance he’d caught of her face — shocked and a little tearful — broke his heart, but Sebastian was determined to see this through.

He could hear her try to say his name, all muffled into the kiss, but he couldn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop, until she gave up and submitted. His hands moved down to her hips to hold them in something between a tight grip and a caress — he wanted to caress her, wanted to love her, to show her how much he loved her… And if she wouldn’t have it willingly, he would have to make her take it.

He swallowed her gasp when, with a sudden jolt, he pulled her away from the wall and started walking her backwards to the bed. Finally able to move her head back, she dislodged herself from his kiss and started begging him.

“Please, Sebastian, you don’t ha—”

But then he leaned in to kiss her again, because he didn’t want to hear it.

The bed was narrow and quite old, as good as he could afford while in the middle of his research. The mattress sagged a little and the pillows were thin, the sheets a muddled brown with an ugly leafy pattern. He felt sorry that this was where it would happen… He’d imagined it many times, with her, and it was always somewhere better, something soft and clean and bright, something she deserved.

“Sebastian,” she gasped when he grabbed her by the upper arms and pushed her down.

Holding onto her with one arm in a bruising grip, he summoned his wand from the desk — a trick he’d learned from Ominis — and used it to undress her.

“Divesto!” he cast, and in the blink of an eye, all her clothes fell off her body and pooled around her ankles. Even her shoes were taken off her feet.

She yelped and tried to cover herself quickly. Sebastian used the moment to push her further on the bed and plant a knee between her legs. He kissed and kissed her as he laid her back against the pillows, his hands shakily caressing the body that he had only now just scarcely caught a glimpse of, but had so often dreamed about.

The high bone of a hip tickled a line across his palm as he trailed his hand upward, while the other held her right thigh apart. He felt over the smooth plane of her stomach, so tense, so warm, so soft, still dimpled with traces of her corset… Her hands gripped at his sleeves strongly enough that he thought she might tear them open — but then she grabbed his wrist with both of them when his right hand reached her breast. He cupped her while he sighed into her mouth, his face tense with pleasure, lips never ceasing to press his love into her mouth through gentle, tender, patient kisses. Nervously, he brushed a thumb upwards and caught the round little tip. He flicked it back and forth until it hardened, and then, like a loving peck, took it between three fingers and pulled at it a little. Against his mouth, he could hear her whining, pleading, stealing every breath she could against his frantic kisses in an attempt to say something that, she hoped, might stop him.

Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest — from the fear, the humiliation, the sheer shock of what he was doing — and her breath felt frozen in her throat. And only minutes ago, she had been so happy to see Sebastian…

He’d invited her over at around 8 o’clock, offering to have dinner together and saying that he needed her help with it — and she understood instantly what he referred to. She knew something of the nature of his research from what he’d told her through the past few months.

Sebastian had been searching for something he’d read about in a book recently translated from ancient Greek — a Casket of All, or Casket of Plenty, or something like that. It was said to be a container of modest size, probably a box or an urn, that, once opened, would grant the owner their every desire. But it had to be opened with a key, and when last she spoke with Sebastian, the only clue he had was the cryptic translation of a line that said the key ‘would already be in the owner’s possession’.

It was the sort of research that he needed wealthy sponsors for, people connected to the sort of wizards that could lead him in the right direction. He had considered the Notts and the Malfoys, among other even more nefarious sorts. It didn’t help that Ominis absolutely refused to introduce him to the wealthy pure-bloods he knew. In the end, Sebastian spent months ingratiating himself with the Lestranges by tutoring their eldest son, Cyrille, in the dark arts. It was perhaps as harrowing of an experience for the boy as it was for Sebastian, who had never had a particularly good relationship with teachers and found it even more awful to become one himself.

She, however, was very much amused. And whenever they went out together, be it for a picnic or for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, he complained and complained for hours how impossible it was to get little master Cyrille Lestrange to remember basic wand movements. It was supremely funny, in a way she couldn’t explain, to see Sebastian so frustrated with a child.

And after finally learning from Mr Lestrange where the Casket of All was, he travelled to it. She never quite found out where he went, but judging by the duration of the journey there and back, she estimated it was somewhere in Southern France or Spain.

Back in England, researching how to open the thing seemed to take even longer, and she saw Sebastian less and less often as he immersed himself in interpreting old texts and ancient poems. On the rare occasions that he would let her help, they’d spend all day and night and until morning lost together, going down a rabbit hole of synonyms for “opening” and “cleave” and “pour” — because it was obvious, as soon as Sebastian inspected the item, that the Casket was not opened by any conventional key. It had only a little orifice at the top, just large enough to let… something in.

And the meaning of ‘the owner already having the key’ had still evaded him the last time they saw each other — when she fell asleep over his chest on this very bed, his warm hand cupping her shoulder, his chest pillowing her cheek, her legs thrown over his… She’d woken up a little embarrassed and dazed, but Sebastian just smiled, so warm and tender, and brushed his finger over the indent left on her cheek from the fold in his shirt.

She hadn’t suspected anything untoward when she knocked on his door today. He’d smiled upon seeing her and let her in — looking tired but bright-eyed, as he often did lately — and nothing was different about the room except for a few more melted candles than the week before… He offered to take her out to dinner and asked if they should deal with the Caskey before or after.

“After, of course,” she’d said as she took her coat off. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve learned about it.”

His smile had been stilted and sad… Sebastian rarely had sad smiles. That should have been the first hint that something was wrong.

The second hint came when he told her that the key to opening the Caskset of Plenty was proof of consummate love… in liquid form.

It took a few awkward glances from Sebastian and a few more questions from her to drag it out of him that they had to make love. He’d invited her to his home that evening to make love. And the combined release of their pleasure, as he so delicately put it, once poured into that opening no wider than a child’s pinky, would open the Casket. He’d already prepared a vial for it, she saw it laying, nice and corked, on his bedside table.

She refused, of course. It was absolutely outrageous and insulting. Never mind that she’d been in love with him for years. Never mind that she counted the days until she could see him again. Never mind that her whole body flushed at the briefest idea of his naked body over hers. And now, his clothes were unbearably thick beneath her hands…

“Seb—” she muttered when she got the chance to, once his kiss let her breathe for one moment.

He only took a moment to catch his own heaving breath, and stared down at her with haunted brown eyes while his hands stilled on her body.

His room was cold and she trembled, but his hands were so warm… One on her breast — holding it, cupping it, caressing it with teasing flicks that drove her mad — the other at her thigh. And Sebastian kept looking into her eyes, only her eyes, pleading with her in his own silent way... Accept it. Take it. Take me. He leaned down again, slower this time, and kissed her once again.

He kissed her like he loved her mouth, like he loved her taste, like he wanted to take her breath inside of him and live off of it forever. His kiss spoke silently to her, telling her how dear she was to him, how badly he wanted her, how he had thought about this and dreamed about this for so long… It wasn’t even about the Casket anymore, if it had ever been.

She trembled beneath all that tenderness, overwhelmed by an intensity of emotion that had never been directed at her before — not by Sebastian, not by anyone. It was dizzying to feel so afraid, so exposed and vulnerable, but it was twice as dizzying to feel so deeply desired.

And then a shock went through her body and all her thoughts evaporated from her mind, when the hand at her thigh moved.

He still thumbed at the stiff little pebble of her breast, while his other hand caressed, slowly and almost shyly, the full length of her slit — up and down, up and down, over the surface of those plump folds in search of… something.

Sebastian gasped into her mouth when he found it, that little pearl she had, hidden in her intimate places.

She cried out into his mouth when his finger started rubbing at her nub at the same rhythm with which he teased her breast. Her back arched traitorously into his grip and her legs tensed on the bed, scrambling to get away from him.

But there was nowhere to go.

He held her legs down with his own, kneeling above them in a careful way so as not to hurt her, and he let as much of his weight as he safely could onto her torso.

She could only shake her head away from his kiss, leaving him to press his lips into her neck and down, down, down to her clavicle while she pleaded with him and insulted him in turn.

“Damn it, Sebas— STOP! You’re a m-monster! No, not— not like this!”

He answered by nibbling harder on her collarbone, all the while rubbing those two sensitive points on her body — making her burn from one teased little tip to the other, from beneath her legs all the way to her heart, making her sweat and drip over his sheets and writhe beneath him — until the heat began to spread in every little part of her body as if he’d cast some strange spell on her.

“It will be alright,” he whispered against her chest, his lips trailing messily toward her breast. “It will be good, you’ll see…”

“To hell with you!”

“I love you.”

“Get someone else for your stupid experiment!”

“I don’t love anyone else.”

She took in panicked breaths that shook her, and as long as she had strength she scrambled for some hope of freedom, but eventually, under the pressing weight of him, her legs stopped squirming. His breath fanned over her breast and she felt the heat of his face on her skin, so close…

“You don’t love me either,” she whispered tearfully, staring absently at the desk. The setting sun cast flaming blades over it, and over that terrifying Casket.

Sebastian sighed and took her nub into his mouth, still flicking the other. She trembled and cried out while he pressed her sensitive point between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, his lips opening in wider, wetter kisses as he tried to take as much of her flesh within him as he could.

Her nails left his clothes to dig into his scalp and try to pull him off that way. He moaned when she tugged at his hair — first in pleasure, then in pain.

“Stop thinking!” he growled, finally releasing her from his mouth. “Stop thinking and just let yourself be loved for once!”

He pressed his mouth to hers, as if afraid of what she had to say, kissing her breathless before raising himself to look at her again. His eyes were wild, but there was a certain innocence there that seemed out of place. With a look that was a mix of desire and fear, Sebastian brought his hands up to cup her cheeks and brushed her tears away. If being gentle and loving with her didn’t work, perhaps frightening her would…

“Do you understand what I will do to you?” he whispered. “Do you understand what I will do to you if you won’t be mine?”

She whimpered and bit her lip, too scared to even beg to be let go anymore, too limp to fight.

Seeing that she was quiet and scared, he signed and kissed her once again, slower this time, a languorous drip of love, love, love from dry lips onto a sweet surrendered mouth.

He let go of her cheek for a moment, and she was afraid that he would touch her body again — but it was even worse: he reached for his wand. Her eyes went wide; he was a talented wizard who knew more curses than she knew spells, he could force her to submit to his will in horrifying ways…

But instead of pointing some cruel hex at her, he only pointed it at himself.

“Divesto,” he whispered, and his clothes fell all around them. He brushed them aside with another wave of his wand like a soft gust of wind, and then he laid the wand somewhere out of sight, beneath the bed.

She couldn’t even remember where hers was anymore; probably in her coat pocket.

Her trembling was even stronger now as he looked down at her, and she looked down at him, at what parts of his naked body she could see pressed parallel to her. Sebastian caressed her cheek and smiled down at her fondly while her eyes drank him in — round shoulders, tapered waist, and a sprinkle of brown hair and freckles all across his strong, broad chest. She blushed fiercely just at the sight of his skin against hers, let alone the intoxicating feeling of it, the intense intimacy of the moment. His legs felt warmer as they laid across her own, his hips narrow and straight above her softer ones, and against her stomach, she felt…

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his smile dampening to something even gentler. “Don’t worry, not yet…”

His hands took hold of hers and pressed them down beside her head while he gentled her with kisses — from her lips to her chin and her cheeks, trailing upwards to her forehead and around her hairline, each kiss more patient and innocent than the last.

“You don’t have to worry about anything while I’m with you,” he whispered into her hair, breathing her in deeply. “I’ll protect you from everything.”

“Will you protect me from yourself?” she hissed bitterly against his neck.

Sebastian chuckled and leaned close enough to kiss her lips once more, his mouth just resting against hers. “What do you mean, darling?” And at her tummy, she felt his manhood laying heavier, pressing into her soft flesh. “I’m protecting you from myself right now,” he murmured into her mouth.

She whimpered unhappily into his kiss, her eyes squeezed shut in a stubborn frown, but Sebastian chuckled, and caressed her again, and started kissing from her mouth back down again while his hands both slid down from her wrists, her arms, her shoulders, to her chest. He held the birdcage of her ribs between his hands while his lips declared his affections in little pecks and licks and nibbles that went down, down like waterdrops, until his mouth hovered over her heart. He could nakedly see the thin bones moving up and down with the flutter of the heart beneath.

“Just let yourself be loved,” he whispered against the core of her chest, “let yourself be loved by me.”

Above, he heard her whimpering unhappily again, but she had no words left to say to him. She had surrendered with her mind and body, although not with her heart — not yet.

“If I could only make you see how much I care for you,” he sighed, lips kissing gently down her torso, “how much I want with you… have wanted you… and for how long…”

He kissed her stomach now, hands coming down to hold her hips. Sebastian’s eyes slid up to hers for a moment and saw there a more urgent kind of fear, like an animal in a trap — the same wide look, the same fear and hatred, the need to escape, to escape him.

There was a tension in her stillness now that he had not felt before. He almost warned her not to do something foolish, but thought better of it. While holding her gaze, his hand left her hip to slide beneath the bed, and almost as soon as he held his wand again he pointed it at her arms, binding them with a red length of summoned rope.

“Wh—?!”

She was at once surprised and angry with him, looking from her bound wrists back down to him, his face so close to a place where she was so vulnerable.

“I want everything with you,” he said as he held her gaze — scared, furious, and desolate — in his — resolute and fierce.

He scarcely finished saying it before he kissed her, right on her lower stomach — right where her womb was. His eyes were closed in a serene, dreamy way. He opened them again and looked right up at her, and kissed a little to the left, and then a little to the right, roughly where her ovaries would be. It was such an unassuming part of her body, but he knew how special it really was — as magical as any enchanted Casket, as capable of creating wonders inside of itself, and all the more deserving of his desire and greed and possessiveness. Sebastian worshipped this part of her while he took in deep breaths, filling his lungs with her scent just like he filled his mouth with her taste. He wanted all of her to be in him, just like he wished for all of him to be in her.

She frowned as she looked down at him in fear and somewhat confusion — did she really not understand, or did she just not want to understand? Did it, perhaps, not cross her mind why he liked this part of her so much? Why it meant so much to him? Why he lusted over it?

Sebastian parted from her lower stomach with a teasing lick and moved himself a little lower. Her eyes broadened in shock, but he continued to kiss her, more and more intensely.

“I love you,” he said again, “I love you,” as if he was finally telling her some long-held secret, a secret he could no longer keep to himself.

“Seb—”

He kissed her mound. Her legs twitched and she kicked him in the ribs, but it was dull enough that it didn’t even hurt him.

“STOP!” she cried.

He smirked and opened his mouth for a wider kiss before shifting even lower... He held her legs now with his arms, elbows at her knees, palms holding down her thighs. His lower body was almost completely off the bed, but the discomfort hardly mattered.

With a whimper of desire, Sebastian held her thighs apart with his thumbs and gazed at her, right at her. He felt his eyes go dark, lidded in a satisfied way at this sign of his conquest. He could look at the most shameful parts of her, and she couldn’t stop him. And she was so beautiful, so fragile looking, so maddeningly enticing. It made his stomach twitch and his manhood stiffen and his mouth water.

“Please, stop!” she begged, “d-don’t! Let me go!”

“Stop what?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

He continued to hold her, looking at her directly, making up for all the nights he merely dreamed of having a glimpse of this part of her.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked.

She wouldn’t answer, her lips stuck in a shocked, revolted, angry gasp, words so jumbled in her throat that they got stuck there. Sebastian frowned at her silence, and instead leaned still closer, looking down at the thing that he wanted so badly. He had never seen something that could make him feel this way, that could drive him so wild in a way that he would do anything to obtain it. He wasn't ashamed of himself in this moment, not anymore — not ashamed of what he wanted, or what he was willing to do to get it.

He held her down more firmly and pressed his lips against her folds. She yelped and pleaded with him more, but Sebastian barely heard it. Her legs struggled in his grip and he could feel the bed jolting slightly as she tried to tug her arms free, but he only kissed her womanhood more passionately, pressing into her, dipping his tongue between them to lap at her little hole. She was wet against her tongue, and only got wetter as he serviced her.

To say he was desperate would be an understatement - he needed, wanted, craved her flesh and he had to have it. So, when she started to beg and plead with him, it did not make him stop, but it did fill him with a deep, all-encompassing anger. He pulled his mouth away from her for a moment, his words a mixture of affection and anger.

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Do you want me to tie your legs down as well?”

She breathed frantically as she stared into his eyes.

“Please, Sebastian,” she whispered tearfully. “Don’t do this to me… Don’t do this to us… We had — we were —”

“We were nothing,” he said lowly. “Platonic, touchless, kissless lovers pretending to be friends, while we were neither one. I want us to be something. I want us to be both. I want us to be everything.”

“No, no, you just want to open that damn —”

“That’s not what it is!” he growled, his hands becoming tighter on her thighs.

He took a deep breath, his eyes softening, and then he kissed her lower lips again. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, it calmed him down — as if her taste was all he needed for a bit of happiness to bloom in his heart.

“It’s not about my research. It’s not about the Casket, not really,” he sighed against her delicate entrance. “I want us to be everything together. I want to have everything… with you.”

A plea got stuck in her throat as he dipped his head again and lapped at her greedily, and instead of saying whatever it was she was about to say — denials, rejections, refusals — she moaned. His thumb left her soft inner thigh to rub her pearl while he dipped his tongue inside of her.

“Sebastian!”

He let his groans of pleasure sink into her. She dripped on his tongue as her body welcomed him, opening itself up to him. His thumb flicked her little nub in brutal little motions while he fixed his lips around her core and lapped at her insides. She was so warm and frail there, and tasted so sweet, so raw… Sebastian moaned deep in his throat, his breath coming out in heavy pants that drove the scent of her womanhood up to his head and drowned him.

Slowly, the jerking of the bed stopped as she relented, her wrists laying still in their bindings. Her legs around him also lay now sapless, soft and cold on either side of his chest. Sebastian sighed and finished his tending of her with one last, long, deep kiss the sticky sound of which resounded in the room. He lifted himself from her on his elbows and licked his lips.

“So beautiful,” he sighed, his thumb pleasuring her slowly, coaxing her entrance into rhythmic clenches. “And still so tight…”

Sebastian gazed up at her. She looked ravaged. Her flushed face was damp with tears and her hair had fallen from its elaborate bun into a hazy mane that framed her face, sticking to the sweat on her forehead or streaking across his pillow softly.

“Every time I look at you,” he whispered, “I fall in love again…”

“Don’t say that,” she groaned, shaking her head. “Don’t say you—”

“I love you,” he insisted, swallowing the taste of her. “I love you…” And his thumb started flicking her nub again while the index of the other hand tickled a path up her thigh to poke at her entrance.

“Don’t!”

He looked at her intensely, breathless, watching every frown and tensing of her face while his finger eased itself past her hole.

“I have to, my beloved,” he whispered tenderly.

He pressed in almost shyly, then retreated, then pressed in deeper, making her moan. Her hips twitched beneath him, trying to buck him off. To soothe her, he flicked her nub a little faster.

“Shhh… shhh… there there,” he gentled her. “I just want to feel what you’re like inside…”

His thumb eased off her pearl and Sebastian leaned closer instead, touching it with his tongue for the first time. She yelped and her hips twitched, but he held her down firmly while working his finger deeper, deeper, a little bit deeper inside with each thrust. With a dark look in his eyes as he gazed up at her and a cheeky smirk, Sebastian curled his tongue beneath her nub and just let it rest there, holding that very sensitised part of her on the soft, warm, wet cushion of his flesh. He heard her moan loudly, her back arching — was this her surrender? — and she twitched on his tongue. He closed his lips around her hot little button and suckled on it.

“It’s too much,” she whispered, head thrashing left and right, hands twisting senselessly into the rope. “Sebastian, it’s… too much…”

He chuckled and sucked her deeper into his mouth without mercy. While she was distracted by this, he removed his index finger from inside her and moved it to part one of her plump folds, holding her open as he placed in its stead his thicker middle finger at her hole. Rubbing back and forth he opened her up a little more, a little more each time, making her more pliant, more wet for him. Her juices dripped out of her around his knuckles, dirtying her upper thighs.

She clenched when he reached all the way inside. Her whimpers were drowned out by Sebastian’s hungry moan when he felt the end of her on the tip of his finger.

“Aaah! Stop it!” she hissed through her teeth.

Her legs struggled out of his grasp and kicked until he caught one of them in his hand. He held her by the knee, close to his neck, forcing her open while he ate at her, licking and sucking and teasing her with kisses from her nub to her hole where his finger kept stretching her. He parted from her with a suckling pull at her folds that nearly hurt, then began kissing her inner thigh while he thrust his finger faster and faster, preparing her for what he was about to do.

“Why is it so difficult for you to accept being loved?” asked Sebastian, looking into her eyes. It didn’t even sound like a tease, it sounded as if he was… sad for her, and genuinely curious to know the answer. “You’re not afraid of me,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly, “not really… You’re afraid of being vulnerable. With me...”

She frowned at him angrily, and he could tell she was gritting her teeth from the clench of her jaw, but her eyes were so fearful and tender, spilling over with tears.

“You’re afraid of what will happen, aren’t you? When you allow yourself to be loved…”

She hissed a curse at him and tried to struggle more, turning her head away into her upper arm and hiding her face in it.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked, easing a second finger into her.

She ignored his question and gasped at being so stretched, her back arching sharply. His fingers were thick and strong, those two already larger than three of hers together.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asked lowly, his eyes never leaving her face even as she tried to hide it. “I won’t,” he growled. “I’m working right now to make sure I won’t hurt you.”

And he shoved his fingers deeper, working them faster into her channel, making her leak into his palm and filling the air around them with humiliating sounds. Her thighs trembled and she moaned, her voice hoarse and breathless. When Sebastian decided to cruelly curl his fingers and press against the soft spot above her entrance, she cried out.

“Sebastian!”

“I’m right here,” he whispered, kissing her thigh while his fingers worked her faster and faster. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t leave you,” he promised.

“Sebastian, s-stop,” she mumbled, “I can’t… I can’t…”

“Can’t what, hmm?” he teased, letting his tongue dip a little lower and rest against her button. With every canting of her hips, she rubbed herself against him.

“Seb—!”

He smiled and lowered his lips to her nub again and kissed it lovingly, reverently, while he thrust his fingers into her harder, louder, messier — until he felt her start to clench. She screamed and thrashed, begging him to stop. Her leg nearly slid out of his grip, but he kept his mouth on her and pleasured her until it ended. It hadn’t quite been an orgasm, more the beginning of one, a shock of pleasure that had taken her over for a few moments and scared her.

Sebastian moaned against her hot little flesh and carefully pulled his fingers out. Almost immediately, he wrapped his hand over his manhood, slathering it with her juices, squeezing it to temper himself. It had been hard this whole time, tickling his stomach, drooling all over itself with how much he desired her.

She relaxed, her tearful wet face falling away from the crook of her arm to look down at him. Her gaze was so hazy he wasn’t sure she knew what she was looking at. Sebastian slowly made his way up the bed, arms pressing down on the bed on either side of her, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he whispered hotly.

She bit her lip and took in deep, shaky breaths.

“Don’t what?” he said again. By this time, he was right above her, his lips hovering over her own. “What, darling?” he sighed, looking at her with nothing but love. His hands caressed her arms, rubbing them up and down. “How about we set you free, hmm?”

With a brush of his arm, the summoned tethers fell away. He caressed the soreness out of her wrists while he balanced himself above her, his knees on either side of her waist. Between them, his shaft twitched anxiously. His sac slotted itself right at the dip of her core. He smiled to himself at how warm and welcoming she felt down there, so wet he could feel her dampening him.

“W-will you let me go now?” she asked in a small voice.

Sebastian chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, that wasn’t enough.”

She groaned and began panting again, her body going from hot to cold with fear. Her arms slipped from Sebastian’s gentle massage and went up to his chest, trying at the same time to push him away and scratch him. His skin was tough, but he still hissed sharply when her little nails left pink welts on his skin.

“That’s it,” he growled, grabbing her wrists and holding them up. “Be good, now,” he said firmly, struggling with her on the bed, “be good for me…”

She grit her teeth at him and fought him all the way, her body weak and cold but more lively now that it was no longer dazed with pleasure. But she was no match for Sebastian, who was so much bigger and stronger, a dangerous man even without his wand. He held her wrists together and pushed her back on the bed, laying on top of her with all his weight.

“Let me go, please!”

“It’s alright,” he hissed, holding her wrists to her chest with one hand and brushing the hair from her forehead with the other. “It won’t be so bad, you’ll see…”

“Let me go, Sebas—!”

He kissed her into silence, swallowing her angry moans while he moved his legs between hers. His knees edged her thighs apart, and then he caressed down her side with his right hand until he reached her knee. He lifted it slightly so that he could fit even closer to her, and wrapped her leg around his waist, holding it there until he finished kissing her.

“I do love you, even when it doesn’t sound like it,” he sighed.

She frowned at him, but then she jumped in a little shock when she felt something hard and smooth against her core. Her lips parted, and she was ready to beg again — for a delay, for him to change his mind, for anything — but he kissed her again.

Sebastian closed his eyes as he drank in the sweet taste of her lips, dry and salty with tears as they were, swallowing her moans and pleas while he tried to find her hole. His hand left her leg to grab hold of himself and steady his twitching shaft.

“S-stop,” she muttered against his lips as she barely managed to twist her head away.

Sebastian’s mouth parted from her with a gasp when he felt her at his tip.

“It will be alright,” he whispered, his eyes aimed between their bodies. He couldn’t see much, but his heart thumped in his chest at the sight of his manhood, thick and throbbing, resting right at her entrance. “You’ll see, everything will be good…”

She didn’t seem to believe him, and instead struggled more and cried, and tried to pull herself away from him.

“Shhh…” he gentled her, frowning in his own kind of suffering as he eased the tip inside.

She cried and struggled in his grasp, screaming to be let go, crying again, thrashing on the bed, but Sebastian’s grip was strong even while he was so deliciously distracted.

“There you go,” he whispered, his head tilted back in pleasure as he felt her, he felt himself entering her. “There you go, that’s my good… good girl,” he moaned, biting his lip.

Sebastian let himself lay more heavily on top of her, curling his large body over hers. His forehead was braced against the pillow a little to the side so he could keep kissing her cheek while he worked to get as much of himself into her body as he could before he had to still himself. She was in pain, and as much as he wanted to take her, he had to wait.

She swallowed in greedy, deep breaths, the skin of her chest meeting Sebastian’s, parting in sweaty pulls after they stuck together. Her core still pulsed, struggling to contain the length that forced it open — and he'd barely shoved the whole head in.

They breathed together for long moments, her wincing occasionally, him moaning, both of their bodies aching for the other in ways that were obvious to the two of them -- she leaked around him, he leaked inside of her, easing the passage, helping her stretch, and their whole bodies were aflame even while so exposed in the cold air of the room. All the while, their hearts beat together, side by side.

Sebastian tried to slip a little more inside of her, pressing forward with his hips. His fist still held his member at her hole, keeping it steady as he pushed inside. He moaned and bit his lip at the warmth that met him.

“Aaah!” she cried, gritting her teeth as he conquered a little more of her. “S-seb—!”

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it, my beautiful girl, my love…”

He was relentless, and didn't stop until the whole head of his manhood slipped inside. Around his waist, he felt her legs tense for a moment, and then give up.

Feeling her so limp around him, Sebastian let go of her wrists and braced himself above her on his arms, his face right above hers pressing gentle kisses that swallowed each wince of pain. His member was securely in her core, fighting against the tight clenches of her channel.

“Open your secret place to me,” he breathed, his brown eyes pleadingly looking into hers. “Let me come inside of you…”

“No,” she hissed. She shook her head weakly, although she didn’t even remove her hands from where they rested above her head, where he had placed them.

Sebastian groaned and leaned down to take a tight little bud in his mouth, and she moaned. He smirked against her skin — he knew she’d like that. He suckled on it while he gently thrust his hips, feeling himself dripping into her, his shaft pulsing, trying everything to ease his taking of her. He switched to the other breast, holding her puckered flesh gently between his teeth to lave at it with his tongue. It made her a bit more wet, but hardly relaxed her core. She winced every time he tried to reach deeper inside.

“Try to relax, my darling,” he sighed, lifting himself off of her.

With a soft look at her, Sebastian eased out — what a shock the cold of the room was after having been inside her — and slid once more down to her waist. She hardly had a chance to glance down at him when he took hold of her thighs and placed his mouth at her core again.

“What are you—!”

He started lapping at her hole again, but so much more passionately this time, tongue slipping from the bottom of her slit to deep inside her hole and flicking upward before going down again, lashing her womanhood with quick, maddening strokes again and again and again until he felt her begin to pulse.

She moaned and wailed in pleasure, confused about what he was doing but too dazed to care.

When he thought he pleasured her enough that she was more relaxed, he raised himself, gripped her hips, and shoved his manhood into her once again. It went in a little deeper this time. Sebastian moaned and shivered when he felt her juices dripping down his shaft all the way to the nest of dark hair at his base, like she was slobbering all over him.

His arms tensed holding him above her, but she felt so good around him, softer and wetter and just as feverishly warm, hotter and hotter the deeper into her body that he reached. He grinned as he looked down at her.

“That’s it, there you go,” he whispered smugly.

He let himself lean down with one elbow bent around her head, cupping her gently, the other holding him at an angle so as not to lay too heavily on her. And as he worked his way inside her, thrust by small thrust, he pecked little kisses on her lips.

“Seb-bastian,” she gasped, looking tearfully into his eyes. “I… I…”

“What is it, my darling?” he whispered, his thumb reaching down to smooth her tense brow. “Hmm? What is happening? Do you like it?”

“It… mmmm…” She bit her lip and frowned, closing herself off to him again.

“What?” he asked again, “What is it? What do you feel? What am I making you feel?” he murmured, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

She winced and turned away, her forehead set in a frown and her lips parted as she breathed out heavily. “H-hurts,” she whimpered.

He couldn’t resist her, couldn’t resist wanting to comfort her. Sebastian groaned and stopped thrusting, letting his manhood just rest inside her. His thumb kept brushing against her hairline, trying to soothe her, and he kissed gently all over her cheek. With a steady sigh, he slid his hand down her body, caressing her soft stomach on its way, and quickly found that erect button above her entrance.

“Ah!” she yelped, her hips canting upward at his touch.

He smirked and kissed the corner of her mouth and began rubbing her pearl in tight circles. With satisfaction, he felt her begin to shiver in the same pleasant way she did when he was licking her. His hot chest rested over hers, rough hair rubbing her already tight and tender buds as they breathed in heavily together. And then he started rubbing her button faster, flicking it messily until she could no longer swallow her moans down and she pulsed and throbbed — and that’s when he tried again to shove himself deeper inside of her.

“—bastian!”

“Yes?” he chuckled teasingly against the corner of her mouth.

“No, t-that’s… aaah, too much,” she said, her back arching.

“What is it, my beauty?” he asked sweetly. “Hmm? What is it?”

“I… I… mmm…”

She closed her eyes and bit her lip, her head facing away again. Sebastian quieted his moans by kissing her neck, taking greedy mouthfuls of her flesh, but trying not to bite too hard.

“What are we doing? You and I?” he asked hotly, his closed eyes resting in the dip above her shoulders. “Tell me… Tell me what I’m doing to you…”

“Y-you’re…”

“Yes…”

“You’re… t-taking me,” she whispered with a choked little sob — and maybe it was wishful thinking, but he thought she sounded pleasured by it.

He chuckled and reached up to kiss her lips, his fingers brushing her forehead gently.

“What am I doing, darling?” he asked again with fake innocence.

“You’re taking me,” she said quietly.

“And what are we doing together? What is it called?”

She whimpered, and he could hear her biting her lip. She couldn’t say it.

“Are we making love? Is that it, my darling?” he moaned.

“Sebastian…” she whispered, her voice full of defeat.

“I’m taking you,” he moaned. “And you’re taking me. Right here,” he moaned. “Right inside this little body…”

Sebastian looked down at her warmly and pressed his cheek against hers, rubbing her tears away with his skin while he kept pressing deeper.

“Right inside this naughty little hole that isn't used to being opened like this, is it? It's not used to it, is that right, my girl?”

He felt, more than heard, a moan bubble up her throat, and the movement of her head could have been a shiver, or it could have been a nod… Sebastian was entranced by the sight of her trying to take him, forced to submit to him, accepting — finally accepting — a bit of the pleasure he had to give her. But it wasn't enough for her, he could tell it wasn't nearly enough... It was his fault, he'd forced her, he'd scared her.

His finger had eased at her pearl, allowing her to focus just on the feeling of his length inside her, but she only clenched tighter — either from pain or fear or something else, he couldn’t tell. She was so tight now he could hardly move. Sebastian sighed.

“Let’s try it a little differently, my love,” he said, parting from her with one little kiss on her lips.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled his member out and lifted his sweaty body off hers for a moment. She breathed in deeply in relief, but then he cupped her hips and motioned her over, onto her front.

“W-what is this?” she asked in a tired voice.

“Something that might help you,” he smiled.

Sebastian brushed her hair away from the nape of her neck and kissed her skin while his fingers pet her sides. The bed felt worse this way, its rough springs almost digging through his flimsy mattress, but perhaps if she didn’t see him she might feel less nervous about the whole thing, and her body could accept him.

It was easy to move her, she hardly put up any resistance anymore. Sebastian set her on her knees and eased her down, holding her carefully and shushing her, until her chest lay flush against his pillow — and how delighted he was going to be from now on to rest his face on the pillow that her breasts had rubbed against. With his knees set on either side of her, he held his shaft in his hand and led it to her entrance again.

“Easy there, my love,” he cooed when he heard her wincing.

“Not again,” she whined, her hands clutching at the pillow in angry little fists.

“It will be alright…”

“No,” she complained, “I don’t want it… I don’t…”

It was harder to work his tip inside her this time, her hole opening and closing in such strong clenches that it got Sebastian to grit his teeth in frustration.

“You need to relax,” he said, one hand caressing her ribs, her chest, slipping down to cup her breast and hold it warmly.

She shook her head, forehead pressed into the pillow.

Hurriedly, almost angrily, Sebastian let her go and slid down the bed again, a growl crawling its way up his chest. While holding her hip with one sweaty palm and her ankle with the other, so that she wouldn’t kick him, he brought his face to her womanhood from behind. He stared at her clenching little hole, all red and sore and a little puffy, all his frustrations melting away at the sight. He brought his mouth down onto her again.

She yelped, she screamed, she twisted to look back at him in outrage, but he held her tightly and kept her there, to lick her pain again. It was quite different from his angle, but she felt that much more at his mercy this way, and Sebastian closed his eyes in delight. His tongue first came across her hard little nub then pet its way up it, as it were, from its plush hood to the erect tip and quickly falling into her throbbing hole. He curled his tongue until it met the edge of her entrance and he held it there, pushed in a little, easing it with loving and gentle licks, showing it how much he adored this part of her. He licked and licked and filled the air around them with messy, sticky sounds that scandalised her, but made her drip shamefully much on his tongue… Sebastian smirked and kept lapping and sucking, moaning right against her folds.

“You're so much sweeter when you're sore down here, did you know that?” he teased, speaking right against her most vulnerable place as he held her down, forced her still for him to pleasure. “You're dripping down my tongue... down my throat,” he moaned. “Like you're drooling from this little mouth,” Sebastian chuckled.

Vaguely, he could see that she had covered her head with both her arms while she moaned, hiding herself away from what he made her feel. He groaned as he laved at her.

When he felt satisfied that her womanhood was wet enough and pliant and sufficiently convinced of how much he cared for it, he got up on his knees again and settled firmly behind her. His member rested right between her folds, tapping against them — tensing up with every lustful twitch, then pulled back down by how heavy it was.

“Is it better now?” he whispered in her ear, penetrating her slowly.

She gasped and wailed into the pillow when the tip entered her again. She felt so exposed in this humiliating position, so vulnerable… It made her throb.

“Is it?” Sebastian asked again, his hot breath right against her neck. “Is it good for you like this?”

Steadily, holding himself to her hole, he pushed and pushed and groaned and pressed deeper until he was halfway in again, and then he rested his sweaty forehead on her back. His trembling hands gripped her around her waist as he steadied himself. Then, slowly, he moved one palm upwards to cup her breast before he began to pump his length inside of her.

“Mmm… that’s it,” he moaned, “you do feel better like this, don’t you?”

She said nothing, burying her tears in his pillow, together with her moans and whimpers and every embarrassing sound — both of pleasure and of shame. Sebastian was so hot against her back, his body broad and heavy and so firm, his skin tough but smooth, chest rough with hair, stomach flexing with each thrust, and the base of his manhood — so rugged it rubbed against her rear a little sore in a… not altogether unpleasant way, she blushed to admit.

Her traitorous womanhood opened for him, clenching hard then parting like a greedy mouth, and all it wanted was him — his shaft, thick and hot, leaking a sticky trail inside her with each shove. She felt him so deep she could almost taste him on her tongue.

When she started panting, rendered breathless from what he was doing to her, she tilted her head to the side — and now there was nothing left to hold back her moans.

“S—e—bas… aaah…”

“That’s it, my sweetheart,” he groaned.

His hand at her breast plucked her erect little bud, teasingly, moving sometimes to the other to not let it get too lonely, while around her waist his arm held her firmly against his front — as if he was constantly afraid that she could escape him.

“My darling, my lovely girl, my heart,” he rambled, pressing hisses against her shoulders and her neck and wherever on her back that he could reach, “my love, my one, my only…”

He groaned from the bottom of his chest when, with one long and stubborn thrust, he reached all the way inside her. She cried out and nearly burst into tears at the sensation.

“Sebastian!”

“Oh f— that’s…”

“Seb— it’s too deep!”

“Shhh, shhh,” he whispered against her hair, “easy… easy, that’s… oh, that’s… damn, that almost hurts me too, it’s so tight,” he laughed madly.

He stilled inside her, giving them both time to adjust, and slowly, she relaxed. It was as if the pain had pierced her and through her and left her behind with nothing but a feeling of... overwhelming fullness. She lay quite sapless on the bed, her hips held up only by his grasp around her middle. As Sebastian eased himself out a bit, she felt her core cling so tightly to his shaft that she nearly panicked for a moment, but then he shoved back in, and she sighed in relief and pleasure. It now almost felt like home to have him there… and she hated that she felt that way.

“Sebastian,” she groaned, pleading for… for something, she didn’t know what.

He cooed in a deep and breathless way, his lips against her ruffled hair, and he started to thrust slowly in and out. The hand around her waist relaxed enough for him to slip his finger lower, back on her abused nub, rubbing it again. Her hips jerked and she whined, but that didn’t stop him — just like nothing else did.

“You’re getting wetter for me,” he whispered hotly, “I can feel it… can feel it against… against my skin…”

With each thrust inwards, his heavy sac pressed against her folds. They throbbed right against it, kissing it in greeting. And then, he pressed himself even deeper, pushing her down, shoving her almost completely prone.

“My lovely girl,” he sighed, finally giving up on holding her upwards and letting her lay on her front while he pounded her into the bed. “My girl, all wet for me… taking me…”

Her blushing, tearful face was buried in the pillow again.

“Taking me while I’m taking you, isn’t that right?” he chuckled, resting his forehead on the nape of her neck.

Both his hands slid up her chest, each cupping a breast and holding it, letting her flesh rest in his hands while he shoved himself inside of her, pushing the breath out of her, harder and harder the more his manhood loosened her up. Every clenching of her was battered away, her channel opened up forcefully and held that way by his sheer girth. The heft and curve of his shaft aimed always his thrusts always slightly lower, against the soft spot above her entrance that made her way to cry.

“Seb—!” she gasped suddenly, raising her head from the pillow when the head of his member brushed against it.

“Yes? Is that good?” he moaned, hissing his way down her neck. “Is that good, my heart? Right there?” he teased, starting to deliberately beat away at that tender spot.

“Aaah! S-stop!”

“I don’t think so,” he groaned, “I’ll keep doing this to you until you give me what I want.”

“Please, Seb…”

“Until you give me what I want... and what you want to... Admit it... Admit it...”

“You’re mad,” she spat, sounding angry but being genuinely more afraid than anything.

She had never felt such an intensity of feeling aimed at her before, and it drove her to distraction that it would be kind and playful and bookish Sebastian who would give this to her.

But he didn’t seem to take kindly to the insult. With a growl through clenched teeth, he took his hands away from her breasts, one threading through her hair — gently, but threateningly — the other going to her stomach. She wasn’t sure what he wanted to do there, but then she felt it — he pressed slightly on her lower tummy, and right against her flesh, he felt himself.

“Do you realise how deep I am inside you?” he whispered angrily in her ear. “Do you understand… how much I love you? How much I… I want to be inside of you… With you…”

She tried to hide her face into her shoulders, her hands coming up to cover her head.

“And this is how you speak to me?” he continued. “Do you feel nothing for me?”

She didn’t wish to tell him yes — partly because she was afraid of how he would react, and partly because it wasn’t true. She did love him, had loved him for years, but this was not the sort of way she’d wished to be joined with him.

“Seb, you’re scaring me,” she whimpered.

He sighed and forced himself to ease his grip, softened as he usually was whenever she showed even a bit of vulnerability. But his thrusts only got harder, and his grip against her lower stomach stayed. He felt his tip press against her and into the cup of his hand with each pumping of his hips.

Beneath Sebastian’s lustful moans and the creaking of the bed, she could hear the humiliating sound of his flesh slapping into hers — his sac, churning with cum and dripping with her juices and his sweat, his hips, his thighs... She could smell his body too, salty and sweet and very distinctly sultry, devastatingly virile and male.

“I… I’m so…” he groaned nonsensically into her hair, “I could finish in you right now,” he threatened. She clenched at the promise. “Won’t you do it too, darling?” he murmured. “Please, I… I need it…”

“Never,” she bit back, and all around his shaft, he could feel her tightening rebelliously. She didn’t wish to be part of his experiment at all.

“I need it,” he said again, “more than you know… Come on, my love, my heart… I know you need it too. Tell me,” he panted, “how do you want to be pleasured?”

She kept quiet. Only little whimpers were pushed out of her by his heavy, deep thrusts.

“What do you need to make this little hole flutter for me?” he whispered.

Her legs tensed and her womb clenched. At her stomach, she felt his fingers begin to stroke a little up and down — stroking the head of his manhood with every inward thrust.

“What do you need? You need my love?” he said, kissing behind her ear. “My hatred?” he added, kissing her neck this time. “Anything… anything…”

“I want nothing from you,” she whimpered.

“You want my seed?” he asked — and that was it.

He felt her body clench, her little hole bubbling with cream in the areas where there was enough space for it to leak around him.

“Oh is that it?” he chuckled breathlessly, teasing her with a lick at the nape of her neck. “You want it? Hm? You want my seed inside this” — and he shoved especially hard — “little hole?”

“Sebas—!”

“You want me to make you pregnant?”

“Sebastian!”

“Want someone to breed you, is that it?”

She began struggling in his grasp, a last attempt to get away, because she knew what was coming. Sebastian wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her against his thrusts that wouldn’t, wouldn’t stop. If anything, he started battering at her womanhood even harder now, sliding wetly in and out in spite of how much tighter she got.

“Oh, but my girl is naughty, isn’t she?” he growled with a wide grin.

When she kicked a little higher with her left leg, he grabbed that too and hugged it to her chest, opening her up helplessly as he claimed her.

Her hands held onto the pillow now no longer as a distraction, but out of need to hold onto something. She wailed and buried her high, frail cries into it.

“Let me love you,” he begged roughly as he shoved himself into her, his thick manhood scraping against her tender, clenching walls in a way that made her scream. “Come on, let me love you… Let me feed this little hole,” he hissed. “It’s been so lonely, hasn’t it? Nobody’s loved you before, have they?”

“Bastard!” came her muffled, angry cry.

“No, darling,” he sighed, pressing deep, deep into her and holding there, pushing her higher on the bed with the force of it, making her legs shake. His tip had reached her cervix. “No, darling, you love me,” he whispered right in her ear. “Like I love you. Do you feel that?” he asked, his hips holding his manhood deep and then thrusting a little more. “You feel your thick little lips down there kissing my balls?”

“Seb—!”

“I certainly feel it,” he moaned, grinding into her while he let his forehead rest against her back.

His arms tightened around her waist with her leg still trapped there, her hole stretched more vulnerably open than it had ever been.

“Feel it warm and wet, dripping all over it, drooling over me… You’ve been as desperate as I, haven’t you? So lonely… so unloved… You’ll never be unloved again,” he promised hotly, and then resumed his thrusts, but this time slow, tempered, hard, deep, battering against her cervix every time.

“Your womb will be full of my seed,” he breathed against her skin. “I’ll force it into you, you’ll have no choice, I promise that,” he whispered. “Hold you opened up, make your beautiful body swallow it…”

She whimpered and tried to crawl away before she realised there was nowhere to go. And behind her, Sebastian kept thrusting that shaft into her swollen channel, her muscles too weak to clench against his penetration anymore. She felt conquered and completely helpless.

“I’ll do it as often as you need it,” he said with a sweet, warm sigh, “I’ll make you all warm inside… Keep you safe. Keep you full of me…”

His thrusts started getting faster, less deep now but almost angry, almost desperate, and she wailed at the sensation because he rubbed against her spot with every thrust and it felt good, she hated how good it felt.

“And then it will take, won’t it? It will have to… I’ll breed you, I’ll get you pregnant… And everyone will see what I did to you,” he growled.

“Sebastian, please,” she moaned weakly, no longer having the strength to pretend he didn’t make her feel good. “Please, I… I need…” Her tearful eyes looked into his, dark brown and hazy, over her sweaty shoulder.

“Shhh, I know, I know, darling… ” he cooed. “Release for me, my love,” he whispered, his full lips coming to rest near hers. “Release for me, and I’ll release for you, alright?”

“Aaah…”

“It’s alright,” he said gently, kissing her. “It’s alright… stop thinking… Stop being afraid…” he coaxed. “Just let me love you, let me love you, take it… take it from me…”

She whimpered, and burst into tears. Her body shook in his grip, trembling not only from his powerful thrusts but from the pleasure that licked its way from her womanhood all through her chest and her limbs and her heart and her head… Sebastian’s hands around her tightened, and her hip almost hurt from how sharply her leg was held against her chest, but her core had never felt more satisfied, more perfectly content, more cared for and loved and wanted. He fed his manhood to it, and she was forced to take it, and she wanted — she realised with shame — she wanted his seed.

“Seb-bastian,” she sighed, sounding genuinely pleasured for the first time, completely surrendered to the pleasure both her body and his were giving her.

“That’s it,” he whispered encouragingly. Around her waist, she could feel his thumbs brush against whatever skin of hers he could reach to pet her, even as he held her flush against his chest and he thrust rough and hard down into her. “That’s it, my heart, there you are… I’ll give it to you, but you have to take it, alright?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, not knowing really what he was saying anymore, “yes, I… I…”

“You’ll have to take it, sweetheart, right in this tight, hot, secret little place of yours…”

“Sebastian!”

“I’m here,” he smiled, kissing her again on the lips — briefly, as each of his thrusts jolted her away from the reach of his mouth. “I’m here with you. I love you. I love you more than any—”

“Aaaah!”

“Oh, is that it, darling?”

“Aah! —bastian!”

“Is that it? Is your womb opening up for me?”

“Seb—! I feel… aaah…”

“Too much, my darling?” he grinned.

She nodded, eyes closed, mouth open in one long moan.

“I feel the little throat you have inside opening up for me?” he groaned, the head of his shaft pounding at her cervix. “Think I can get it inside?”

“No!” she cried.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead, not wanting to hurt her, and knowing how small she was compared to him, but he teased her anyway but pressing deeper, aiming for that flexing opening. He bit his lip when he felt the tip of his member get lightly pinched by it.

She scrambled uselessly beneath him, her back arching into his sweaty chest, hips canting, and Sebastian kept thrusting into her. The little pearl that he’d teased earlier so much peeked out with interest, and his sac now met its tiny kiss each time it swung forward.

“Too much!” she wailed, her body tensing and relaxing and tensing again in the grip of some unfathomable wave of pleasure. “No more… no more, please!”

“Take it,” he groaned, “good girl, take it…”

And then that wave of pleasure crashed into her, and she screamed. Sebastian cried out too, a low and pained sound. He stilled his thrusts when he felt her core tighten around him. It gripped him as if she was going to swallow him whole, as if she wanted to drink everything he had to give — and he gave it to her, because at that very moment, his orgasm hit too, and his sac churned painfully and pushed his seed out of him in wave after thick, thick wave.

“Aaah! Oh f— my darling,” he moaned, hips twitching into her reflexively now, “my dearest… my love, my… ohh…”

He pressed grateful kisses into her neck and moaned out every endearment he could think of, and her name, and his promises to take care of her, to give her everything she deserved, to love her until the day he died…

She mewled weakly, too tired to cry out, too tired even to open her eyes. Her body had never gone through anything like that before, and as her pulses quieted and her core relaxed, Sebastian eased himself as deeply into her as he could. She could feel his seed pooling at the end of her, warm and heavy. Finally, he released her leg and let her relax fully on the bed, his own body laying for a moment on hers before he slid to the side, sapless.

She could feel and hear his heaving breath against her back, and beneath it, the frantic beating of her heart.

Sebastian kissed her shoulder one last time before he moved away, seemingly to get up. She then realised he had only retrieved that vial.

With great gentleness and care, he bent down to her core and stroked her lower back. She barely had the chance to look down at him, frowning, when she was struck by the humiliating feeling of his release and hers dripping out of her in big, pearly gushes.

“Oh,” she groaned, hiding her face away.

She didn’t see, but she could hear Sebastian chuckle.

“I know this part is a little awkward,” he said. “It… it isn’t how I wanted to end this, but…”

He stopped there, saying nothing else while he collected what he needed.

She sighed and pushed her sweaty face away from the pillow when she felt him part from her, his caressing hand stroking her leg gently one more time before he got up. She had new cause to blush when she peeked at his naked behind, firm and shining with sweat, and the length that could be seen swinging between his legs — still a little hard, still wet, tip blushing a raw, delicious colour. She felt sure a similar colour was blooming at her ravaged core, and she hid her face into the pillow again.

Sebastian’s hands were shaking. His sweaty skin felt the chill of the room more keenly now, especially after his chest had been so wonderfully warm from rubbing against her. He still had so much excitement and pleasure coursing through his veins that made him almost unsteady on his feet… But he had to see if this would work, he had to try to open the Casket.

He put one hand on its side and held the vial aloft with the other, its mouth poised just above the little orifice that would take the ‘key’.

He bit his lip to try and steady himself, and tilted the vial… The content was white and syrupy, and he blushed at seeing it. He had to wait for it to drip out… Once it reached the edge of the glass, it fell quickly, pulled down by its own heaviness right into the hole.

Sebastian held his breath as he waited, fearful for a moment that it had all gone wrong, that he’d been misled, that this had all been a terrible mistake… But not even a few seconds later, something happened. He felt a little tremor against his hand, as if something moved inside the Casket, and he pushed against the lid. Where many times before it had stood as firm as if the whole thing were one solid piece, this time, the lid slide away without resistance.

His eyes widened, and he started in quiet wonder at the open relic.

“Did it work?” she asked from the bed, her voice sleepy but still slightly interested.

Sebastian laughed, not able to take his eyes away from the inside of the Casket. It was supposed to provide its owner with whatever they needed at the time, and it certainly did that… Inside of it were two silver bands, one slightly smaller than the other, plain and unadorned, of exquisite purity: two engagement rings.

“It… it did,” said Sebastian with a bright smile.

Still, he wasn’t sure now was the right time to ask her… He felt a bit monstrous after what he'd done, and worse still for not regretting it. He was lucky that he got her to feel pleasure, to accept what he was doing, that he found the key to her lust — but it could just as easily have been the end of everything between the two of them, and he didn't know what he would have done if he'd lost her. How close he had come to that, due to his own mad desire for her, scared some sense into him now after everything was done. So he took the rings out of the Casket, quickly opened a little drawer on the side of his desk, and placed them inside.

He then walked back to the bed and joined her, squeezing himself beside her on the narrow mattress. She was hiding her face again, leaving him only her neck and shoulders to kiss.

“I apologise,” he sighed.

She mumbled.

“Do you hate me an awful lot?” he whispered with his lips against her nape. “You can tell me honestly…”

She said nothing.

“I did apologise, but I’m not sorry, just so you know,” he continued, his hand brushing the hair away from her shoulder in slow, long caresses. “I’m sorry it happened like this, but… I honestly can’t find it in me to regret it. I’ve wanted you for… a long, long time. I hope you know that. And it pained me how… how you always held yourself away.”

“Stop,” she whimpered, still facing away from him.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, the little of it that he could reach.

“I meant it, you know,” he whispered at the corner of her mouth. “I’d want nothing more than for us to have children together…”

“Sebastian, that’s—”

“I know you might not want it with me, or not at all, but… but I want it, I want it because it would be with you. But only with you.”

He sunk his face into her neck, hiding away from her rejection, hiding away from himself, but wanting all the while nothing other than to sink inside of her in every way — with his body, with his mind, with his heart. The sheets were a mess around them, half-fallen to the floor, and both she and Sebastian were sweaty and cold and messy with each other, and it was uncomfortable for both of them to lay that way together on a hard and narrow bed… But there was no safer, sweeter, better place in the world for Sebastian — nor for her, she quietly realised.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and curled his body around her from behind, seeking comfort in her. He had thought, those past few months, that he would get everything he wanted once he opened the Casket, but now he knew he could only find what he wanted in her.

She breathed deeply, accepting his embrace, and not knowing… what to say, how to confess to him what she, too, felt, even though she burned deeply with the need for him to know her, really know her, and how profound her love for him was. She lay quietly in his arms, her chest moving steadily up and down. And then, before he knew it, her hand came to rest on top of his own. Against the back of her neck, she felt Sebastian smile brightly, and she couldn’t help but smile too.

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