#shadowy bliss

[lowpolyanimals]

Capybara Snail from Shadowy Bliss by kattingtonn

[terry-perry]

Hey, I see you're looking for Alastor request to write him better.

Could I get Alastor x F! Reader where they're constantly flirting with each other until someone shouts just kiss already which takes Alastor off guard enough for the reader to sweep in and kiss him, then as he kisses back she gets dragged off to is room. The rest from there is up to you :)

Inspired by the writings of F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Do you think I ought to bob my hair, Alastor?" Y/N asked the distinguished demon by her side as they shared a few drinks at the hotel's bar. Husk busied himself by wiping some glasses, refraining from rolling his eyes as the pair continued with this back-and-forth.

"I'd look rather darling with such a hairstyle, don't you think?"

"An absolute dream, my dear," Alastor responded, regarding her more intently than usual.

He wasn't sure what it was, but something about her was especially vivacious that night. Perhaps it was the way she seemed to make a bit of effort to be on his level for the dinner-dance the hotel was hosting to celebrate its grand re-opening. Like with many of the antics that go on in the place, Alastor stood passively by, subtly scaring those who came close to him.

Then he spotted her.

He liked how becoming the dark red dress she wore was and how It set off her unnaturally shadowy eyes. Let's not forget about the way her hair glistened so! It was almost like the stars were woven into it.

"You know, back when I was alive, having such a hairstyle would be considered immoral, sinful," Alastor remarked, shamelessly reaching out to twirl a few strands of her hair around his sharp nails. "It was a sure and easy way to attract certain attention."

She took in the way his eyes floated towards hers, but not before making their way up slowly from her legs. Had he been anyone else, she would've disregarded his remark with a brutal slap (perhaps with something worse if she were in the mood). But this was the Radio Demon she was speaking with.

She knew she had him right where she wanted him the moment she stepped in. If her attire hadn't drawn him in, then it was definitely all the attention she gathered from the other party guests who would offer to dance with her. Each one that would head her way with enthusiastic determination would have Alastor's eye twitch before he finally decided it was his turn to cut in.

After that, she was his and no one else's. After all no one would dare be stupid enough to steal the Radio Demon's dance partner.

"Well, it's a good thing we're in Hell then," Y/N said, going as far as laying a hand on the normally touch-aversed Alastor's knee. In this case, however, a glow settled almost imperceptibly over him.

Their eyes met completely, and they stopped talking entirely as they stared at each other. It wasn't until an irritated voice intruded on their space and made the glow fade away.

"For fuck's sake, will you two just get it on already?!" Angel Dust screeched from the Y/N's other side. "This was amusing for a while, but you've been dancing around each other all night. The party ended hours ago, and you still haven't even kissed yet."

An awkward silence followed this. Alastor looked at Angel, eye twitching once more. He wouldn't understand that a classy lady like Y/N deserved to be wooed properly. She's, no doubt, heard every practiced line known in this side of the Pentagram. And she certainly wouldn't react well to such bold actions like hot kisses and heavy petting.

Alastor opened his mouth to explain as much when Y/N grabbed a hold of his face and placed a big kiss on his lips. He would've been more shocked had it not felt like such blissful oblivion. It was better than any glass of rye he had ever drank. He kept a stronghold of her, his claws piercing the small of her back while his other hand took hold of her hair.

They eventually released one another, going back to looking at each other.

"Forgive me," she managed to say between heavy breaths. She kept her bold smile on as well as a tight grip on his lapel. "You've got an awfully kissable mouth."

And with that, the glow returned along with a desire to finish this upstairs.

"About fucking time," Husk uttered, watching with Angel the way Alastor dragged a giddy Y/N to his room.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura

Summary: This was supposed to be a Rhysand x Reader Calanmai One Shot and boy oh boy did it spiral into a whole, multi chapter AU fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ It’s now a what if Rhys’s mate was someone other than Feyre and they both end up Under the Mountain together fic

Content Warnings: Eventual Smut, Some Suggestiveness because Rhys is here, I mean look at him everyone wants that male; canon typical violence, UTM. Each chapter will have listed content warnings.

Part Two is here

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“Stay inside, away from the windows. Make sure the doors are locked.” It’s the same speech every year, the same frantic, worried rant about staying away from those types of parties and the trouble they could bring. Never mind that you’re an adult, have been for awhile, and are perfectly capable of making the decision on your own and had decided years ago that Calanmai wasn’t really your scene. A party in a library sure, but an outdoor orgy in what was basically the High Lord of Spring’s backyard was about as opposite of you as you could get.

“I’ll be in the attic, organizing my books,” you swear and your uncle’s graying head bobs with a heavy sigh of relief as he shuts the door. Some of the livestock have gone missing--most likely the result of several visiting fae whose scene definitely is Calanmai--but he couldn’t make complaints to the High Lord until he was sure they hadn’t simply wandered out of the padlock on their own. He’s taking all three of the farmhands with him, leaving you alone in the house.

It would be a blissful couple of days. The house quiet. You plan to make tea and practice the new bread recipe you’d found tucked into one of your carefully preserved books from two centuries before. You’ve accumulated quite a collection of things in the years of your uncle’s ceaseless wandering. He’s never stayed anywhere long.

If you could focus on it, that is.

Calanmai might have never been your scene, but it did something to you every year you couldn’t explain. It had started a couple years ago; a strange whispering on the wind at first, a voice begging you to “Come. Come and see.”  The next year, after being ignored the voice had come with phantom drum beats, an echo of the ones that would sometimes crest the hill between your farmhouse and the High Lord’s estate; the voice more urgent, the drum beats like a pulse in your skull. The following year the visions started. You’d go to sleep and find yourself drifting through the air, wings beating above you, shadowy hands holding you as you flew over the bonfires and beating drums, bodies writhing and merging beneath you, before depositing you in the darkness of what you could only describe as some sort of ancient cave. When you’d woken up you found yourself half way up the hill in your sleep clothes, unsure of how you’d even gotten out of the house. You’d never mentioned it to your uncle, he was prone to worry, but it was becoming clearer and clearer every year that there was something out there that wanted you out on Calanmai. True to form, you’d started hearing the drum beats upon waking this morning, their beat a steady pulse in your temples.

Still, whatever beckons, you're not interested in meeting. You’d seen a couple priestesses and gotten a sleeping tonic that would knock you out for the night, all you needed to do was pass the time until nightfall, take the tonic, and in the morning, all would be right again. Never mind the ache in your chest you’d feel in the morning, the blaring loss a living thing in your soul, as if your decision to stay away had torn something apart in you. It was a manageable wound, for your family’s sake. Memories of your parents had been hazy at best, it had always just been you and your mother’s brother. He’d said something had happened in your home court, that he’d had no other choice but to take you and run, never any other details. Your powers were a strange, unmanageable thing that prowled beneath your skin, a restless beast you couldn’t tie to any court to try and figure out where you’d come from. They weren’t seasonal, not ice or flame or wind; you’d imagined as a kid you’d gotten them in the Night Court, the darkness that sometimes sparked from your fingertips unruly enough to make it plausible, but there was nothing definitive. And your parents, for all the good things your uncle said about his sister, had never tried to find you, leaving all questions unanswered. Left you alone with your uncle and your constant moving with his job. He worked hard to make a life for the two of you, you owed it to him to not cause any trouble, to stay inside and cook and read and help him with his trading business as best you could. Whatever it was out there that beckoned, it was not worth seeing the pain on your uncle’s face. He’d escaped something, that much was clear, you would not damn him to something else, even for your own peace of mind.

This year feels different though, and you can’t deny it. The voice more urgent, the drum beats louder. You find yourself rubbing your temples, a headache building, as you try and fail to read the recipe in your hands. The words blur, a swirl of indistinguishable colors and shapes. You pinch you eyes closed, shake your head as if to clear the voice, trying again and again to make the words make sense, but the drums won’t stop beating.

You hurl the book across the room, knocking a picture off the wall, glass shattering on impact.

“Leave me alone!” You hiss at no one, teeth bared. Talons form at your fingertips, dark shadows whispering over your skin.

“Come. Come and see,” begs the voice.

You draw a breath, then another, and another until the shadows disappear and the talons retract. If you blow the roof off the house, like last time, you’ll have to move again. Beyond your uncle’s disappointment there’s the issue of… her. The war bands, the bogge, the Attor, always a threat looming over your travels, pushing you further and further away from busy cities, all enough on their own, but the Blight adds another layer. Your Uncle said the war she helped wage against the humans was devastating, but the one she could bring here? Sometimes you wonder if she’s the reason you move so much, as if your uncle has been trying in vain all these years to escape the war path closing in on Prythian. He’d never dare delve into the Human Lands, but Spring is one of the few places she has yet to ravish. You can’t risk another move.

You focus on controlling your breathing as you sweep up the glass, and leave the picture of you and your uncle on the table. You’ll find a new frame tomorrow, for today, it’s best if you take that sleeping tonic and avoid any further outbursts.

You make quick work of double checking the locks before changing into your sleep clothes and climbing into bed. It’s only just starting to get dark, the last few rays of sunlight fighting to break through your worn curtains. The priestesses didn’t mention how long it would take to work, or how long it would last, but the drums are still so loud, and the voice won’t stop pleading. It’s a nice voice, if your honest, but you can’t go out there. You won’t.

The vial in your hand is cold, the glass pitted like it’s been used before, it’s contents a bright blue color that glitters even in the darkness. You down it in one gulp, the taste like bursting, overripe fruit. The effects are immediate, you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillows.

  The house is strange, twisted; the wooden walls thorny, gnarled like old tree trunks, the wind howling through the gaps of what used to be the windows. Fire light flickers through the gaps, casting shadows across the space as you stumble from the bed, bare legs caught in sheets suddenly made of vines.

It’s wrong, all wrong.

You stumble on legs that don’t quite work right down the stairs, slashing yours hands open on the thorns that had sprouted out of the railing alongside dark, night blooming flowers.

“Come. Come and see.”

The flowers bloom at the sound of the voice, the violets petals glowing in the darkness, leading you like wisps out the front door, now covered in vines and leaves. Disoriented, you follow the flowers out into the night, the stars dazzlingly bright overhead.

The world outside is not the one you know, the rolling hills now scorched and burned, the trees gnarled and twisted. Dark shapes with glowing eyes sit on the dying branches, starring only at you, some growling, others hissing.

There’s a single line of flowers, twisting away from the leering eyes and you race after them.

“Come. Come and see.”

You’re running before you know it, scooping up flowers as you go.

Something behind you still growls, it’s footsteps rattling the ground behind you. No matter where you look, you can’t see it, like it’s wholly veiled in the darkness. It has your heart pounding in your chest, the beat steady like drums. You push yourself faster, following the flowers over the ruined hills.

The flowers lead you into another wooded area, the trees still barely clinging to life here, their fallen leaves crunching under your bare feet. Branches tug at your shift, tearing the thin materiel, clawing at your exposed legs. Still, the thing behind you prowls closer, it’s breath hot as flame as it chases you.

The flowers wind around trees, deeper, deeper, into the dark, the only light the stars and the flowers; it’s your only chance at escaping. You push, going as fast as your legs can carry you, the drum beats of your heart still echoing in your ears. Soon enough the flowers direct you in a straight line, directly into the mouth of a cave. It feels wrong, going into a cave with some sort of beast snapping on your heels but what other choice do you have?

You reach the mouth of the cave, hand brushing the rough rock, gasping for breath. The darkness beyond beckons, “Come. Come and see,” but there are no flowers here. No stars to light the way, only the darkness of night and shadows.

The thing beyond you roars in challenge as you set one foot in…

You jerk awake like your soul is coming back into your body.

Maybe it is, because you’re not in your bed. There’s half a dozen cuts across your bare legs, staining the bottom of your torn shift, mud splattered across your legs. It feels like you’re wading through soup as you assess yourself, your mind muddled, unable to process where you got the glowing, violet flower in your hands. When you finally have the presence of mind to look up, you are in fact starring at the cavernous mouth of a cave you’ve never seen before.

Somewhere in the distance, the drums pound. Firelight dances among the treeline behind you. You’d gotten outside. On Calanmai. The tonic not only failed, it had left you so horribly vulnerable and queasy you were shaking. You need to get back home, back inside where it’s safe.

From somewhere in the shadows of the trees not far from you, a voice says, “I’m pretty sure I saw her go this way!”

Ice shoots through your veins, feet freezing in place.

The flower seems to warm in your hands, as if reminding you it was there, of the dream that had brought you here. You glance at the cave, the darkness beckoning. It might be a safe place to hide, if those voices are in fact looking for you. They are clearly male, and a few of them at that, and alone in a shift on Calanmai…

The cave might be a terrible spot, you’re pretty sure you had heard something about High Lords and caves, specifically on Calanmai, but the drowsy effect of the tonic has not entirely worn off, and with the voice drawing closer you don’t have time to try and remember what it was.

You step into the darkness, praying it isn’t the worst mistake of your life, and the darkness envelopes you like a caress. It’s almost as if it… moves, shadows and night itself twining around your legs, your arms, brushing along your spine with feather light touches. As if darkness is acquainting itself with the feel of you. You shiver, nervous, but the touch is not unwelcome.

Voices sound outside, but they are muffled, veiled.

Another step, then another, the flower still clutched in your hand blooms, glowing a little brighter. The scent of jasmine and citrus flows from it, fills all your senses.

The cave descends, the ground sloping a bit, and then you have to duck to follow the worn path. There should be loose rock along the path, but it is smooth, like sand beneath your bare feet, like someone had come along and swept out the debris. There’s nothing there to hinder your progress towards what you can only assume is the heart of the cave.

Perhaps this is all a part of your strange dream, that would certainly explain the flower, but what other choice do you have no but to keep going? From behind you, those voices from the woods sound again, as if they have stepped into the cave too.

“You’re sure she came in here?”

“Where else would she go out here?”

“Do you think Mistress will let us have a little fun before she gets her hands on her?”

Its that that makes you freeze, all thought eddying from your head.

The flower shrinks in your hand, the light dimming, even as the darkness of the cave twines itself around you, the caress like a cat rubbing against your legs, as if it’s trying to soothe you, calm you. You can’t move.

The sudden shift in the air of the cave is palpable. Goosebumps raise on your arms as the temperature drops, as the darkness deepens.

“What the fuck?” One of the men hisses.

And then the screaming starts, the blood curdling cries rattling the walls.

Still you can’t move, can’t see, can only stand there in the company of the shadow still rubbing soothing circles into your back while the earth trembles and dust rains down from the cave roof.

Just as quickly as the screaming starts, it stops, the only sound know the subtle drip of something wet hitting the floor. Your senses are sharp enough for you to scent the cooper tint of blood in the air, but even your keen senses can’t pick up what caused it. You can’t hear anything either, no footsteps, no fighting. It’s over.

You exhale a shaky breath, hands still trembling around the flower. Until it suddenly dies, the petals falling from your cupped hands. You’re strangely attached to it now, hands scrambling to catch the petals in the dark when that same glow appears around the bend in the cave.

Another flower, a way out!

You step towards it, not stopping to ask yourself why this one is smaller, so far away from the ground. Its not until you’re nearly upon it, nearly slamming into it, that you realize it’s not a flower at all. It doesn’t truly click into place until a firm set of hands grabs hold of you, stopping you from slamming right into the owner of that glowing set of violet eyes.

You might have screamed, were it not for the voice that says, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

The world tilts before you as it clicks into place that you know that voice. It’s the one that called you out here.

[noctivague]

PAC: What do you bring to the world?

Today I wanted to make an uplifting personality reading focusing on the positive things you personally bring to the world as well as your strengths and qualities.

I will also finish with an advice on how to share it or share it better with the world, depending on the pile.

Note: I always write down the cards I draw. a "+" indicates that these cards go together; a "/" shows as change of row/question.

Focus on the 4 pictures, pick the one that draws you in the most and go to your pile. It's possible that more than one pile resonates. This is a general reading meant for multiple people so not everything will resonates.

Always open to feedback :)

PILE 1

Cards: The Shadow + the Temple + 9 of Pentacles / The Great Goddess + Truth + Acceptance / Navigating by the Stars: Follow your bliss + Growing Pains

You are someone with a great understanding of the shadowier aspects of the mind, which doesn't only stop to an understanding of your own, but extend to the human psyche as well. You are not only in-tune with what most people don't want to see or accept, which requires courage and resilience, but you are also able to make flowers blossom from the dirt, so to speak.

You are in tune with your inner voice and live in abundance of all the lessons you've learned on your path. I see all these events you've been through and all the effort you've put into learning from them and growing as a human. They are like little pockets of truth you've collected throughout the years, little nuggets of gold that make your soul rich.

You anchor that into reality, making a temple out of what you've learned through pain about yourself and the world, and draw a lot of strength that others can feel without even knowing your past.

It's like, by going through your own personal hell, you've managed to shine bright and light up those around you.

Perhaps some of you are advisors or speaker of some kind who actively help others, and for some of you, it shows up in conversations with people you meet.

And your strengths and qualities reflect that! You are someone who is able to transcend whatever struggle they are going through in order to find some type of divine beauty from it. You can see both good and evil in yourself and in what is around you, and you can see the importance of both ends of the spectrum, letting yourself dance with those cycles and finding harmony in what most see as only chaos.

You also didn't let your heart close from what you've endured and instead gained a lot of empathy for other people's suffering.

You are also someone to whom authenticity is not only important, but a major part of their personality. You despise lying to yourself. Not saying that never happens, but you always end up correcting the trajectory at some point. You have strong core values that you've spent a long time modeling like a beautiful and ever changing work of art, born from your own work. You honor this quality in yourself and you encourage it in others.

You also embody the quality of acceptance. You know being in touch with your shadow means you're going to find things that are ugly, scary or violent, and you've learnt to see that without judging it. You are able to accept and release whatever comes to the surface, surrendering to the flow of life. As a result you are not someone who judges people harshly for their humanly flaws. Again not saying you don't condemn anyone ever, but you understand the shortcomings and the shortsightedness everyone has to deal with, because you went through it so many times yourself.

And as to what you can do to share that better with the world, well, first I feel like most of you are already doing that by just existing, but the advice I got was to listen to your spiritual guidance, whatever that means to you. There is this idea that you are guided on your path and that, perhaps, it is time to not simply look under, but look above. Trust that your effort are seen and that you will be shown the way to make your qualities of use for others beyond what is already happening.

The last card I drew says to keep walking on that self-healing path you are on, which is a life-long process as there are always layers and layers to dig and dig through. And by that I mean that you can go way beyond yourself, into the generational, the mythical. And I think that's the main takeaway. You are a Healer of Yourself, and by doing that, you're also healing others.

I'm still getting that some of you will be able sooner or later to share that wisdom in a more tangible way, perhaps as a writer or a counselor, a speaker or a carer, but, again, you don't need a specific job or activity to share your gifts because they radiate from you and can be received by the people in you touch in your daily life.

That it's for Pile 1! I just wanted to say that your energy is awesome and I feel very touched!! I wish you good luck on your path and I'm sending you a lot of love.

PILE 2

Cards: The Medallion + The Hunter + Ace of Wands / The Mystic + Spirit of the Tree + Magic / The One + The Shaman + Rebirth

As for what you embody in what you bring to the world, I see you someone who heavily involved with magic and/or the spiritual realms. Like, heads up but, I'm actually a bit floored because it is powerful but I'm not surprised knowing the type of people who follow me.

So yeah, the magical and the spiritual. But more precisely, you are upholding traditions from the past, working with something you've inherited (not necessarily by blood although it may be the case for some of you) from those who came before you. By practicing and taking action with these practices, you are keeping them alive, honoring them, and even perhaps working on transmitting them to those who will follow.

I see you one some type of mission (in an humble way) as in, you're focused on your path and moving fast toward that shining light you sense in the distance, like a glowing target that pushes you forward whether you are fully aware of what it is exactly or not. You are answering some type of call.

As for your strengths and qualities, you are someone who is really in tune with your dreams, and beyond that, the other realms. You feel the pulsation of both life and death in all things, can read the signs the world sends you, and can peek behind the veil. You may be a mystic, a seer, or a medium, or have strong affinities for this.

You are also no stranger to the mysteries of Nature and are able to gather knowledge from what is so different and alien from you. Again there is an idea of ancient wisdom that you are tapping into powerfully. It comes naturally to you because it's part of who you are. You are able to step back from the noise of the modern world to touch the wisdom that lies beneath the busy surface of the world. Most people don't even know it's here, but it is, and you see it.

Again, there is this idea that you see beyond human knowledge, and you are able to remember it because somehow, you understand that, and even though it is strange and alien, it's part of us, too.

You are also able to cultivate your own magic. You understand that you can't just receive without doing the work on yourself and cultivating your own power. You are not an empty vessel but a being full of stars in your own right. I have this image of someone who one day opened their eyes and saw the sunrise seemingly for the first time. As if those eyes themselves where born anew. You are able to dance between earth and the sky, embracing transformation and initiation.

As for the advice you received on sharing your strengths with the world, I was sort of expecting it but it's not so much about really sharing your knowledge with the world rather than being your own individual on your path and doing the things that are required by it. Idk if that makes sense it's quite abstract to understand so bear with me.

I got the Shaman. As you probably know it's a word that is mostly wrongly used and that can mean a bunch of things, like healer, sorcerer, oracle, warden of Nature, medium, spiritual advisor or religious leader. What I'm getting is that it's going to vary for all of you depending on the path you are on, but one thing is for sure, you are a very important link between the other-world and the human world and you can serve your community.

Perhaps because you can/will/are meant to embrace one of the roles I just mentioned, or because you are doing some type of work for the other-realms, again it will vary greatly depending on the person.

There is an inherent loneliness to this path. You may feel othered, marginalized, even crazy at times, because you exist in some type of hazy in-between, with one foot in our world and one foot in the Other.

The advice is to learn to accept and lean into that, and understand that you are not as alone as you think you are, even to your fellow humans.

We are all one, in some way. Made of so many buried facets, so many fallen stars. What you are experiencing is present in all of us, you are just able to anchor it in this world, which is not only important in and of itself, but also helps people around you help themselves, is what I'm getting.

As a final advice, because I felt like drawing one last card, I got Rebirth.

I'm going to keep this super open because this pile is made of various people, but there is something that needs to be reborn within you. Some type of transformation you need to go through to go further. You will need to leave something behind. Know that what you are right now is meant to shed and change because there is so much more to learn. Lean into what you know to see the next step, but be open to the unknown and its gifts.

That's it for this reading, very different from Pile 1 but I'm equally floored and a bit spooked because it was super powerful! Thank you for reading me, I hope this was useful to you and I send you a lot of love and wish you good luck on your journey!

PILE 3

Cards: 4 of Swords Rx + 10 of Pentacles + The Pilgrim + The Castle + The Threshold / 5 of Cups Rx + 8 of Wands Rx + Space, Time and Self + The Gifted Guide / Overwhelmed + Sorrow + the Moon (oracle) + Queen of Swords + 7 of Pentacles + The Forbidden Forest Rx

Driven is the most important word I'm getting from this reading.

It seems you are a builder and a pioneer of sorts, someone with the power to materialize your goals into the material plane, with the potential to establish long term material wealth and stable structures in the world. I'm also getting the word legacy, it's something that's important to you and you wish to accomplish in this lifetime. You might be an entrepreneur of some sorts or work in an area of Sciences, so legacy could be either about a business or wealth or advancing human knowledge in some way shape or form.

You don't sit around and wait, your are someone who don't remain stagnant but is always rising above and beyond to work towards your goals. You understand that your goals won't materialize without effort and you are committed to the task.

The way you go about life is focused on outside achievements, but that's the way you grow inside as well. The world is your laboratory where you explore ideas and see what can be birthed into the world.

You are someone who is not afraid to step into the unknown, to go towards uncharted territory, where others don't dare to go. It may seem like a lonely path for some, but for you, it is immensely fulfilling and is how you free yourself. You have your eyes set on the top of the mountain and nothing will stop you from reaching it.

You have no regard for the concept of fate and wish to keep your destiny into your own hands.

Your strengths and qualities are that you are aware of your faults and failures, of what you've lost in the past, and have learnt that no matter the setbacks, a new opportunity or idea can always arise and you can learn from your mistakes. You are full of energy and desire to move forward in a sort of restless way. It's like your burning with the energy of your will and the only way to master that fire is to remain as active as possible. Where others would have given up, you keep pushing, even if it hurts.

There is a strong message about knowing you are guided but not in a spiritual sense, and for two reasons:

One, you have trust in your own instinct and are guided by your interests and what pulls you in. You go with the flow and are able to follow effortlessly the dance of the cosmos, flowing from one cycle to the next, understanding that sometimes things can take more or less time (the idea of timing to be respected), or that you can zoom in and out your perspective on things (sometimes you need to see the big picture but sometimes you need to look into the details).

Second, you also understand the parts of unknown of your path, you don't feel like you need everything figured out and have trust that things will unveil when they need to. You listen to your environment and see patterns in the chaos that remain invisible to others and that's what guide your steps.

The advice on how to bring that more effectively into the world is pointing back to the reversed 5 of Cups and 8 of Wands, with Overwhelmed and Sorrow. It's very interesting because your strengths and quality are also sometimes reverted and things you struggle with, which is normal since we all have bad days and the very things that makes us ourselves can be our most violent pains.

In your low points, you have a tendency to bottle up your feelings, so focused that you are on your tasks, you ignore them until they spill. You don't really know how to handle your emotions and wait until they explode in your face to confront and feel them. It leaves you feeling lost and frustrated.

You have a highly individualistic mindset, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but in excess it makes you too tyrannical toward yourself. You may feel alone against the world at times, a lone star in a black sky, because you are so cut off from receptivity and external guidance.

Don't discard the parts of you that feel alien and strange as they have much to teach you. It's okay to stop for a moment on your path, you don't have to rush all the time. You need to be patient with your goals, like a gardener watching them grow in their own time. You can't go against the rhythms of Nature and the Universe, some things take time, and that include respecting your own rhythms.

You need to learn to set up boundaries within yourself. It can be hard to feel when you're going overboard so you need to carve out some time to deal with your inner struggles and let yourself time to rest. Perhaps these low points have a lot to do with exhaustion and lack of mental and emotional space, so be mindful of that and keep some time for nurturing yourself, not just your goals.

That's it for Pile 3! I hope this was useful to you and brought you interesting messages. I wish you good luck on your path.

PILE 4

Cards: The Orphan + The Animal + 3 of Swords Rx + Ace of Wands Rx + Bottled Up + Gloom / The Mirror + Energy + Space, Time and Self + Dark Night of the Soul / 9 of Pentacles Rx + The Empress + Gratitude + Let Go + Yin and Yang + Truth

You are someone who came into this world full of childlike wonder but something broke, making you carry a deep wound. May be mental or physical trauma, an accident or a disability. As a result, you gained a ferocious thirst for life, a wild energy, similar to the primal instinct of survival. It was either giving up or pushing through, life or death.

It seems your ability to act in this world got restrained and that you had to learn your way around that. Like your potential was bottled up which made you think that all was over. Complete loss of hope. You felt cut off from the world, cut off from life and society. Rendered unable to connect with the bustling world. It seemed like it wasn't a choice you wanted to make but had to.

When I started drawing your cards for strengths and qualities, I felt an immense wave of fatigue washing over me, and one of the cards I drew was about calling back your energy. So I think you are very well aware of your limitations and you had to learn to live with that, manage your limited resources to make something blossom regardless. If you're not already aware of it, it's something you're currently learning.

I feel called to describe the energy card to you: a woman is sitting in a back full of stars, from her left palm flow a stream of water filled with stars with a flower blossoming from it and her whole body. I really think that whatever you went through and are still dealing with, despite limiting you in some ways, cannot stop you from bringing something beautiful to the world. It will feed from your very pains, like flowers feeding off dirt. There is so much potential for Life and growth.

Also, you had to learn to reflect on yourself a lot and that brought you a admirable understanding of the human nature, a precious wisdom that could not have been yours had you not have the life you had. It sucks to write because fuck that, I'm angry with you and I don't get why it has to be that way sometimes for some people, but it's true. I'm also getting that some of you are writers or have a great ability to spell out your thoughts. Really, this wisdom you gained through pain gave you a greater understanding of life, one that most people cannot touch, and that can be a great treasure to share with the world.

You have a strong ability to bring a deeper understanding of the human experience to others, transcending the mundane to allow them to touch what is meaningful and precious about life, understanding themselves and the world more. From the simple moments to the greatest revenge taken against fate.

By experiencing extreme loss, you found hope and a desire to survive and overcome, and are able to share it with others. This card also has a book in it so idk if you're a writer or not but you should definitely consider it if that's not the case. I think you have a lot to share with the world which could help others. Your words are worthier than gold, because you know how hard it is to face monstrous events but you know that it's worth pushing through. We all face difficult times in our lives, some more than others, but it's not about who suffered the most, and you understand that. You can really make a difference, pile 4. Light the way for others with your words.

The advice cards are really beautiful and supporting.

I see you being encouraged to learn to find balance within yourself and aiming for success and abundance. Because you can and you will be able to bring gifts to this world. You heart is a fertile soil, and it is so strong. From dead matters, pain and wastes, we can sow seeds and harvest golden crops, feeding many. You can embody that.

Really, you can be a beacon of light to other, crowned in stars, adorned with roses. You need to let yourself hope a little further. Don't settle for the bare minimum, let go of your regrets and pessimistic mindset. You have so much to offer. Find beauty, love and pleasure in your everyday life. It might only be in some specific moments but it is still so important and will help you live with more ease. Find bliss hiding between the folds of time.

You also got a strong message about gratitude. It can be easy to look down on this word, thinking it's a way to keep yourself in your enclosure and not thrive for more, but in reality, it's very empowering. By being grateful for your gifts, you are actually recognizing them, learning to trust and value them, which will in turn give you the confidence to share it with the world. The wise know that there is so much power and grace in having a grateful mindset, it doesn't stop you in your tracks, on the contrary, it calls even more blessings in.

You hold both life and death, pain and pleasure, despair and hope within yourself. It's time to embrace it and learn that life is not one or the other but a balance of both. You have been tilting over one side too much and it's time to rectify the scale. The advice is to find power in an unexpected place within you. Something you have overlooked. Something that feels uncomfortable. Ask yourself what you are resisting. You will find great creative energy as a result of that inner work. It will bring you growth.

The final card is called Truth and is also connected to the Empress, which you got earlier. The words on the card are: " That which is true will always be enough". You had to learn some truth the hard way, don't discard it because you are afraid or in pain. Hold it tight. Honor your truth. Again you get a message of gratitude and abundance. You are on a path to wisdom and you will gain a lot from it. By liberating yourself, you will also free others. Don't be scared to share what you've learnt and will learn with integrity. You soul is so beautiful.

That's it for pile 4. I hope it was an useful reading. It definitely was insightful for me. I wish you good luck on your path and I give you a big hug!!

[mrsrookhunt]

Breaking The Fourth Wall | Yan!Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

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"Hiya, precious."

"Whoa- what the fuck!"

Lilia stands there, tee-shirt and jeans, casually taking in your freshly showered form.

"Mm.. how pretty. You should really lock your door, you know." He licks his lips suggestively.

On a near 5-second delay you stumble to the wet floor with a towel, trying to cover yourself up from the bold fae.

He laughs, hand coming up to his mouth to hide his grin.

"Nice attempt at bashfulness, by the way."

Your mouth is wide open with confusion.

"Heh. Say, those lips of yours look so pretty~"

He kneels down to your fallen form.

"Surprised to see me?"

He ghosts his hands over your cheeks, flushed and shining with dew from your shower, two fingers coming to rest under your jaw to close your dumbfounded mouth, leaving behind a shadowy trail of cold from the path of his fingertips.

You stutter, lost for words.

"Y-you aren't real, you aren't even--"

"Shh.."

He crawls closer to you, face tilted to meet your eyes a little aways from yours, eyes twinkling with mirth and sadistic elation.

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'be careful what you wish for'? You spent a whole lot of time wishing you were in my arms, honey. It would be oh-so cruel to keep denying you."

He pulls you to your feet, prying the towel from your loose fingertips and coming up behind you, massaging your shoulders, working his way down to your sides.

He wraps his arms around your waist, breathing you in.

"Ahh... what a dream. What a dream to hold you. I said that I'm here because of you, but you deserve the truth. You're just so tempting. If the feelings were one-sided, I could've denied myself the pleasure of holding you. But to find out... you loved me too? Bliss."

He nips at your neck.

"I couldn't deny myself a moment longer."

His hands grip your shoulders tight enough to bruise, turning your clumsy, quivering form around to face him. His smile was magnificently wide as he forced your head down to meet his in a graceful arch for the lightest echo of a kiss.

"Come to bed, darling."

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-June 28th, 2023

-Kaori

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 14: Peril

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.3K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

Time itself moves sluggishly as the spawn descend upon the petrified, screaming miscreants that share your cell. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest, fighting your ribs like striking bolts of lightning. You steel yourself against the rising panic, wrapping yourself in unflappable poise and watch for your opening.

As soon as the wave of spawn crashes and parts, you squeeze Hecat’s hand to signal her it’s time to move and bound through the gap. The corridor is a catastrophe, the stones painted in fresh crimson, bodies of guards ripped open, with their raw innards spilling out like gruesome garlands wreathing the walls. Hecat pales at the sight, dry heaving, but you’ve long become acquainted with such nightmarish affairs.

You tug Hecat along behind you, bare feet smacking the stone with such force it sends jolts of pain charging up your legs as your bones shudder with the impact of every step. That is nothing compared to the acute, explosive pain stabbing your chest with every inhalation.

Hecat stops, acquiring a shield and sword from a fallen guard. The blood makes the stone slick, and every step must be taken carefully. You cannot afford to fall. A stumble will almost surely mean death. Spawn that have finished their meals are starting to take notice. Hecat deflects them with her shield, stabbing with her sword when she has an opening and keeping you safely behind her.

The passageways are labyrinthine, confused tangles of convoluted twists and turns that sometimes double back or arrive at dead ends unexpectedly. Tears are creeping out of the corners of your eyes, dallying down your grimy, red cheeks from the agony radiating from your ribs with every expansion of your lungs. Panic starts to crumble the blanket of calm, surging through you as you frantically dart through the shadowy, disorienting hallways. The angry army of thudding footfalls of the spawn in pursuit echoes through the corridors.

Bounding up a dim stairway, the hilt of a dagger peeks out from between the joints of armour, nestled into the corpse of a guard. You yank it out with a quick tug, but time is not on your side this night. A spawn grasps your ankle, its clawed fingers sinking into your flesh and jerks you off your feet. Your head bounces off the stone slab stair, peppering your vision with black sparks of dazing pain. The only thing you can see through your muddled sight is those glowing eyes. You lash out with the dagger and sink it deeply into the socket. As soon as you’re released, Hecat is already towing you back to your feet, pulling you up the stairs and into the next room.

The milky eyes and pallor of bloodless bodies greet you. The undead in this part of the prison seem to roam, unsure of their orders, but as soon as the thudding of your heart is heard, their heads snap in your direction. They swarm around you like enraged bees. Despite Hecat’s exhaustion, she is unwavering. Her sword slashes through the air, shield deflecting the snapping fangs and shredding claws.

You feel the pangs of irritation at your uselessness. Your magic, once your greatest weapon, is now a prison in its own right. The vampires press in closer, surrounding you like a pack of ravenous wolves, their movements orchestrated by an unseen hand, but they don’t move to attack further as they corral you.

“What are they doing?” Hecat pants with wild eyes, frantically searching for an escape.

“I don’t know.”

A red aura shifts around the spawn, the same one Cazador used to control Astarion’s sibling during their midnight visit to your camp. They part for a tall, pallid figure that appears seemingly from the shadows.

“Nice to see you again, Sorceress,” it speaks. You recognize that voice, and your heart arrests in your chest, sinking into your stomach.

Aldous.

Your mind reels, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. No. He is dead. You watched the life be abducted from his eyes yourself. Yet, he stands before you, pale as death with glowing crimson eyes. His face splits into that repellent smile, and his cackling resounds off the walls.

“That one.” He points at you, “She is to be taken alive. The Tiefling matters not.”

“What the fuck,” Hecat breathes.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Sorceress,” Aldous laughs, hysterical and bone-chilling. “And your fanged friend. I cannot wait to drain you dry in front of him.”

A harrowing scream tears from your throat, a melody of rage and sorrow as Aldous disappears in a burst of red, drawn home by his unknown master. Grabbing Hecat’s hand, you eye a door and dash toward it with renewed vigour. The vampire’s claws and fangs pierce your skin as you burst through the legion. You stab and slash with reckless abandon, sinking the dagger into anything that attempts to halt you.

Hecat and you stumble into the room and try to close the door on writhing arms and legs. Hecat lashes out with her sword, severing limbs from bodies obstructing it until it slams shut and locks.

“Help me!” Hecat yells as she throws a table over. You help barricade the door with whatever is available.

“They want you?” Hecat snaps, levelling the sword at you, “Who the fuck are you, dragon girl, and why the fuck do they want you alive?”

You’re doubled over, hands on your thighs, trying to inhale as much air as your lungs can possibly take, but the splitting pain in your side hampers your ability to catch your breath.

“I don’t know,” you retort venomously, eyeing the sword and Tiefling.

“That one knows you,” she hisses, shifting her stance and getting ready to strike. “Who the fuck is he?”

“A dead man,” you sigh, pushing your hair from your eyes. “I killed him. Apparently, it didn’t stick.”

“You’re a murderer?!” She gasps, bringing the steel blade to your neck.

“Yes,” you growl, unbothered by the threat.

Hecat laughs, withdrawing her blade, “I would not have thought you possible of such a heinous crime.” She winks, “I like you even more now.”

You cannot help but choke out a pained laugh, but it’s more of a groan than anything. You look around. Waxy moonlight floods the room from a small window. It’s the first window you’ve seen, but bars in a crisscross pattern make escape impossible, and the wood door is starting to splinter and crack under the barrage rattling it on its hinges.

A sudden shift in the atmosphere makes your skin prickle as the dam of suppression is released, and the Weave returns to you in an overwhelming deluge. You don’t have time to wonder why or how, and you don’t much care. The Weave causes the air to crackle, abuzz with powerful energy, and you fill yourself with it. You grip the iron and allow the potency of your draconic fire to spill out of you with a daunting laugh you cannot stifle. The bars heat, whine and wail, glowing white-hot and oozing, and Hecat thrusts her sword into the gooey mess of molten metal to clear your path.

The moon hangs high in the sky, casting an eerie glow upon the building, and the air is brisk as you clamber onto the roof. You cast Shatter, crumbling the stone around the window to block the pursuing spawn.

“That’s some potent magic you have there,” Hecat grins. “I’ve never seen anyone melt metal with their hands before.”

Her words of praise float over you as you eye the raging war of the courtyard below. Some guards remain alive, fighting another horde of spawn descending on the grounds. From the height, you can see beyond the solid walls surrounding the compound, and your feet move unconsciously, eyes skipping over the landscape - searching, searching, searching…

There.

“We could jump,” Hecat says hesitantly, peering over the edge.

“No,” you bark with a smile. “We fly. Follow me.”

You cast Fly, taking her hand and soar into the air. Hecat yelps at the suddenness of your movement and clings to you. You cannot quite reach your target before your feet hit the soft, muddied terrain. Spawn trample the ground, careening toward you like a blight on the land. Hecat stands in front of you, but you are muzzled no longer.

“Detono!” You howl, and the wave of crackling energy bowls the spawn over.

You cast Fireball and rain blazing death, warping the fire into flames that burn blue, bending it to your will. Your fingers dance in the moonlight, under stars that envy how bright you burn. Hecat stands at the ready, prepared and reinvigorated, but with unfathomable rage, you don’t miss. With every step, every twitch of your fingers, every syllable that brushes off your tongue, you are violence, you are slaughter, you are death incarnate.

It feels magnificent. Exhilarating. You are so wonderfully, splendidly fucking alive.

Whatever spawn remain have begun to retreat, much to your displeasure, disappearing in puffs of red mist, back to whatever hole they crawled out of.

“Kamena!” Strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground, and pressing you tightly to firm, sculpted muscles. You would do anything to stay in this embrace but the pain in your ribs forces a pained cry from your lips, and Astarion jerks away from you.

Hecat screams, charging forward with her blade levelled at Astarion before you have time to explain. Astarion dodges swiftly and has one blade to Hecat’s throat and the other pressed firmly to her stomach before you can blink.

“Astarion, don’t,” you wheeze, shaking your head. “She helped me escape. Hecat, this is my friend.”

“Friend?” Hecat barks as Astarion releases her with a skeptical frown, and she reels back. “You failed to mention that your friend is also a fucking vampire.”

“Astarion is a person,” you growl. Without the adrenaline rocketing through your veins, your injuries and weariness have begun to take their toll on your body, and you stumble.

Astarion catches you, “You’re injured?”

“Her ribs are broken, I think,” Hecat replies for you. “The guards did not treat her well.”

“Shadowheart!” Astarion bellows and slightly lifts the hem of your shirt, revealing the edges of mottled blue, black and yellowing bruise expanding up your side. “Good Gods, my love.”

“I’m fine.” You bring Astarion’s eyes to yours, gazing into the scarlet sea you have longed to swim in. It almost makes it past you, but your brows furrow, “Did you just call for Shadowheart?”

A hand lays on your shoulder, and blue magic laves away the cutting pain in your side, “This was supposed to be a nice, boring vacation,” Shadowheart tuts, nose rising into the air with a snort. “I should have known better than to think you might be able to keep yourself out of trouble.”

“Shadowheart!” You pivot, wrapping your arms around her. “Gods. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She drawls, returning the hug gently.

“Where is the wizard?” Astarion asks, “We should get her home. She smells terrible.”

Shadowheart chuckles with Astarion as you frown at them. “She really does. If I can smell her, I can’t imagine how bad she smells to you, vampire.”

“Be glad you can’t,” Astarion wrinkles his nose at you but sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, kissing your forehead.

“Take her home,” Shadowheart instructs. “I’ll wait for Gale.”

The conversation between them starts to sound far away as lethargy drags at your mind.

“What do we do about this one?” Astarion gestures to Hecat.

“Leave her with me,” Shadowheart concludes with a tinge of threat. “She can bring me up to speed on exactly what in the Hells is going on around here while we wait for Gale.”

“She helped me,” you murmur. “Be nice, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart smirks, “Aren’t I always nice?”

“Wake up.”

“No,” you grumble, forcing your eyes open.

“Yes.” Astarion purrs with cold breath on the shell of your ear that sends delightful shivers down your spine. “You are not crawling into our bed smelling like a flophouse latrine.”

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body tightly to him. He tries to tug you away half-heartedly between his grunting protests, but there’s no real force behind his playful pulling.

“Now, you smell, too!” You chime as he sets you back on your feet and starts drawing a bath.

“Naughty girl,” Astarion smirks, chuckling.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the gilded mirror. Your hair is matted and dingy with grime. Filth streaks your face, dulling your complexion. Your shirt, once a pale blue, has been rendered brown, stained with dirt and blood that’s both new and long dried.

Movement behind you catches your eyes, whisking them away from your reflection. Bottles of oils float through the air, appearing to move on their own as Astarion pours oils into the water, and notes of lavender, sandalwood, and vanilla arise with the steam. This is something you’ve never gotten used to. Objects seemingly floating, as if picked up by a breeze and carried aloft of their own free will.

“Odd, isn’t it?” Astarion says, moving your hair and bringing you back from your contemplations.

“What?”

“No reflection.” Astarion’s cool fingers curl into the hem of your shirt, and you lift your arms, allowing him to peel the disgusting garment from your body, “Objects moving on their own, a ghost underdressing you.”

“A little,” you admit. “I just don’t understand how you always look so fucking perfect all the time.”

“Oh,” he giggles, turning you around, hooking his fingers in your waistband, and crouching. “Do go on.”

You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning some of your weight into him while he strips you, lifting one leg at a time, “I missed you."

“I missed you, too. Very much.” He says, taking your hand in his, “Come. Into the bath with you before it gets cold, and you chastise me.”

Climbing into the steaming water is like climbing into a sun-soaked dream. How very odd is it you can forget how your skin feels when it’s clean. As you slough off the dirt, blood and filth, the pads of your fingers do not recognize the buttery softness of your skin without the grainy texture.

“Tilt your head back,” Astarion instructs. He pours hot water over your head, fingers gently detangling your matted hair, lathering it with soap.

The bruise extending up your side is still faintly visible, staining your skin in hues of blue and yellow, and your fingers skate up, poking and prodding.

“What happened in there?” Astarion brushes the backs of his fingers gently down the marbled skin.

“The guards had a bone to pick with me,” you shrug, trying to cover the solemnity of the conversation with a pleasant smile. “I don’t wish to talk about it right now, Astarion.”

“Kamena…” Astarion sighs with a sullen shake of his head.

You press your fingers gently under his chin, bringing his eyes to yours. Gods. When he looks at you, it is not a glance. It is a song, a message, a constellation of promises wrapped in scarlet, and you never want to look away.

“I’m not running, Astarion.” You assure him, “I will tell you all about it, but tonight, can we just be us?”

Astarion smiles, nodding his understanding, “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Astarion’s fingers massage your scalp as he washes the soap from your hair, rinsing it until the water finally runs clear.

“Do we have wine?” You ask on a whim.

“Gale does,” Astarion grins momentarily, but his lips press into a thin line. “Is this celebratory drinking or “it’s better to forget” drinking?”

You wince at the question. You know it’s not exactly the healthiest way to deal with your problems. You are tempted to lie to him but force the truth from your lips, “A little of both?”

“I can live with that, I suppose,” Astarion nods, helping you stand and wrapping a plush towel around you, patting you dry. You smile as he dotes on you, “I know where the wizard hides the good stuff. I will go raid his cellar.”

Slipping into one of Astarion’s shirts, you light the fire with naught but a thought. It feels good to have your magic back after being deprived of it for so long. You grip the Weave, pulling the mystical essence from your blood and bones, and it feels like taking a deep breath after you didn’t realize you were holding it. Fire spurts out of your palm, and you fashion it into a ring, forcing the flames to move unnaturally as they chase each other around in a never-ending loop.

You lift the flaming ring above your head, hovering between your palms like a fiery halo, and force it to expand and contract simply because you can.

“Did no one ever teach you it’s dangerous to play with fire, Sorceress?”

“Perhaps for the untrained, Rogue,” you smirk, snap your fingers, and the halo bursts like a firework, pinpricks of fire whirling around you.

You let the fire ebb and die out slowly, relinquishing your magic with a sorrowful sigh. The Weave fills you with life, comfort and peace. Without it, you’re thrust back into a stark reality. Astarion hands you a glass, and you grab the bottle and wink as you drink deeply. The wine is a crisp white wine, buttery with hints of vanilla. It sparkles on your tongue and fizzes down your throat, and you cannot help but close your eyes at the pleasure of it all after drinking brown-tinged water for a week.

“Shall we sit, or would you prefer to keep standing in the middle of the room?”

“Gods,” you smirk, handing the bottle to Astarion and trotting over to the bed. You flop onto it gracelessly. “Let’s drink in bed! I’ve been sleeping on stone for a week, and this is lovely, but it’s missing something.”

“And what’s that, my dear?” Astarion cocks his head handsomely with a boyish smile that tells you he knows exactly what you think it’s missing.

“You!”

“In that case,” Astarion giggles and removes his shirt. He thrusts the wine bottle into your hands. Your fingers fumble to catch it, senses entirely possessed by him, “We might as well get comfortable, yes?”

“Yes,” you breathe, swallowing thickly.

Astarion saunters around the bed, discarding pieces of clothing along the way. He makes it look casual, unpremeditated, but it’s maddeningly slow.

“You’re a tease,” you mutter under your breath, sipping the wine and slipping out of your shirt.

“I am not!” He chuckles, “You’re just exceptionally impatient. Good things come to do who wait, sweetheart.”

“Do they?” You quirk a brow at him, “I’m not so sure about that. Do you have proof of this notion?”

“I waited two hundred years for you.” Astarion purrs as the bed dips under his weight, and he presses his body against your back, wrapping his arms around you.

“I love you,” you murmur, craning your head to look at him, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“I love you, too. I should not have let the wizard talk to me into leaving you in there so long. I—“

“Not tonight, Astarion.” It sounds like a whimpering plea, “Please."

“Right. Apologies,” he rasps, lips against your neck.

“Have you been eating?”

“Always so worried about me,” his lips twitch into a smile. “I’m fine.”

Perhaps he is fine, but you are most certainly not. Suddenly, you’re impacted with a deep-seated need to feel that intimacy, that descent through the branches of his veins. You want to bleed into him, your soul and his, intertwined as one. The intensity of the emotion catches you off guard.

Are you chasing the bloodless daze that his feedings provide? Are you hoping it will lay a shroud over the dread sinking your stomach? Is this another way to run?

Maybe.

But you are so good at running.

“Would you like a nibble?” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the hint of anticipation from your voice.

Astarion jerks his head up, pushing your shoulder until you’re lying on your back and looking up at him with an arched brow. He regards you thoughtfully, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea tonight.”

“Why?”

Astarion rifles his fingers through his hair, “You are well aware of the effect you have on me when I feed on you. I cannot promise that once your blood dawns on my tongue, your skin under my fingertips, I won’t lose myself in the need to make every inch of you mine.”

You wrap an arm around Astarion’s neck carefully, kissing along his jaw. You whisper in his ear, “So make me yours.”

Astarion shudders amorously as you ghost your lips over the ridge of his ear to the tapered tip. He grabs your waist with a low, rumbling growl, pulling you into his lap to straddle him. His desire for you pressed firmly against your already slick sex. Astarion looks deeply into your eyes, holding you still as if trying to figure out if you’re in your right mind.

You’re trying to figure out the same thing.

He catches your lips in his, gentle at first but with progressively more ferocity. He groans into your mouth. It radiates down your spine, stealing your breath, and a chill rushes through you, settling in your core. Your heart flutters with desire, the increasing drumbeat of it making its way between your thighs.

Astarion’s hand grips your hips, undulating them, his cock sliding between your folds, brushing up against your swollen flesh. You have been so fundamentally deprived of his affection that every touch sends shivers over your skin, every slide of his tongue against yours makes you want to sigh, and every groan steals the air from your lungs.

His fingers tease the peaks of your nipples, and you throw your head back and gasp. Astarion kisses up the column of your throat, his free hand cradling the back of your head, fingers twisted in your hair.

There’s but a moment of clarity. You are running headfirst, barrelling into anything that might hope to make you numb - him, pleasure, alcohol, bloodlessness.

Astarion’s fingers glide between your lips and sweep over your sensitive pearl, and coherence is lost in a white-hot rush of pleasure. You melt, draping your arms over him and biting his shoulder to hush your cries. His lips trace along your neck, and you roll your head to the side. His fangs sink into your flesh, and he growls, deeply and lofty, his chest rumbling against yours as if thunder was rolling through it. Your essence trickles through his veins like a gentle rain as he draws in methodical sips, savouring every drop.

Your hips buck as he continues his ministrations. You yearn to feel that decedent stretch of your walls as they envelop his cock, and he knows it. Astarion encourages you to lift your hips, pressing the swollen, blunt head of his cock to your entrance, and you sink down his length as he rubs against all your ridges so exquisitely that it makes your vision blur.

You don’t even notice his fangs retreat from your neck as his lips mould to yours to dampen your unadulterated breathy moans. You close your eyes and fade in and out as your head spins around with pleasure so intense you cannot think straight. The woozy fog of blood loss only adds to your dwindling reason and logic. With every pump of his hips and every roll of yours, you are walking on the fine edge of paradise.

But there’s something not quite right in his movements. They are tactical, methodical, and too perfect. You drive your eyes open, blinking away that haze of ecstasy. When you look into Astarion’s eyes, he’s not looking back at you. He’s looking past you as if through you, but his body knows this dance well enough, and he continues to go through the motions even when he’s a million miles away.

You go rigid, halting all movement in a split second, and your heart seizes, bound by the flash freeze in your chest. It jolts him back to himself, and he blinks rapidly, almost confused.

“Astarion,” you purr, concealing the hurt in your voice. Why didn’t he tell you? Why didn’t he say something as he promised he would? “Let's stop.”

“No,” he protests, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay, my love.” You cradle his cheek, trying very hard not to move a muscle until he tells you, “Tell me when I can move.”

“I’m sorry,” he looks away from you, brows downturned, rubbing his eyes. “I want this. You. I was there, and then I just… wasn’t. I don’t know what happened.”

“Healing is messy. Isn’t it?”

“You are a gift,” Astarion folds his arms around you, hugging you close to him, and you try to hug him back, but it’s admittedly awkward when he’s still inside you, and you’re trying your best to keep yourself still. He laughs, “You can move, Kamena. I’m not uncomfortable.”

“You’re still inside me,” you retort, almost as if to alert him to this fact.

“Yes, that’s considerably obvious, but thank you for pointing it out,” he chuckles as you relax slightly. “Do you think we could stay like this? Just for a little bit? I find it… strangely helpful.”

This is new. Not unwelcome, but definitely new, “You want to sit here with your cock inside me, and what, chat?”

“Precisely!” He chimes happily, leaning back with a grin, “I’m so glad you understand, darling. Hells. Do I have some stories for you! Do you know how hard it is to break into the government buildings here? They are locked up tighter than a patriar’s purse, but I do love a good challenge.”

You can’t help but burst laughing at his carefree attitude, the way he’s still rock hard inside you, talking about committing crimes as if you were sitting at a table sharing stories over dinner and drinks. This is not typically how you remember him reacting, but this… this is progress, and you will take it.

You groan, “Why were you breaking into the civil buildings, Astarion?”

“How do you think Gale knew where to find and nullify the device suppressing magic at the prison?” Astarion drawls, pleased with himself. “That man is terrible at stealth. Even worse than you. He complained about his knees the entire time! Gods. I am centuries older than him, and you don’t see me bellyaching.”

“How utterly annoying! I’m surprised you didn’t kill him,” you giggle at how he smirks with a wily glint in his crimson eyes. He definitely considered it. “In that case, you’re going to have to take me on a date where we break into this government building that gave you a hard time. This is something I must see.”

“You cheeky little minx,” he laughs. “I would love nothing more.”

The murmur of voices, clinking of cutlery on the tableware, and smell of what is surely Gale’s cooking drift down the hallway as you approach. Astarion follows closely behind, his hand at the small of your back. He has not stopped touching you in some fashion since you returned, as if he’s worried that you might disappear.

You stop dead in your tracks when you see the back of Hecat’s head, sitting at the table, shovelling whatever gruel Gale provided into her mouth and nodding as he recounts tales of your grand adventure in the Underdark. It takes substantial effort not to tell Gale to shut his trap. He does realize that you met this person in prison, right?

Shadowheart sees you first, leaping from her chair and dashing over, sweeping you into a tight hug, “Gods. You smell much better,” she giggles when you groan and squeeze her hard enough to expel some air from her lungs, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you nod, but you haven’t been able to take your gaze, etched with skepticism off Hecat.

Shadowheart whispers, “She had nowhere else to go. Gale invited her.”

You snort, “Of course he did.”

“I’ve been watching her closely,” Shadowheart sniffs. “And I will continue to do so.”

You suppose the woman was instrumental in your escape, and perhaps, for now, you should give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Sit,” Astarion instructs, pulling a chair out for you. “I will get you some food.”

You arch a brow at him and give him an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Although anything will be better than the stale bread and dried meat the prison served, whatever Gale has fashioned resembles wet dog food, and your stomach, as hungry as it is, flops in your belly.

Astarion kisses your temple, “Trust me.”

You sit, and Astarion gathers fresh fruit from the fridge, cutting it up in deft, precise movements. He glares at the knife spitefully, assessing the edge and rolling his eyes. You would giggle, knowing he’s judging Gale for the state of his knives, if you were not so flabbergasted that Astarion is preparing your food.

Hecat’s voice breaks you from your astoundment, “You clean up nicely! I almost forgot what colour your hair was under all that crud.”

She, too, looks substantially different without dirt smudged on her face, “I could say the same about you,” you retort a little too sourly.

Hecat smiles, not catching the venom in your voice, “Your friends are very nice.”

“Yes,” you give Gale a sideways glance, and he looks bashful. “Gale is very generous and trusting.”

Gale’s face flushes red, and he clears his throat, putting a finger in the collar of his robe, and pulling it away from his neck like the garment is restricting his breath.

Astarion places a bowl of perfectly diced fruit before you. He sits, dragging his chair close to yours so he can keep a hand resting on your thigh. You don’t miss the way Shadowheart glares at him with unspoken bitterness.

“Dear Shadowheart already gave me quite the berating,” he shimmies his shoulders as if he enjoyed it.

He actually might have.

“Not enough of one if you ask me.” Shadowheart scoffs, her eyes narrowed and blazing with acidity.

Hecat arches a brow, confused at what is going on, and you’re not about to lay out your life story for some stranger you met in prison, so you push the conversation forward.

“Aldous is a vampire,” you say far too casually and are met with looks of shock and silence.

Gale and Shadowheart eye Astarion.

Astarion scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Oh, don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t my bloody doing. I am a mere spawn. I do not have the power to turn anyone. Gods,” he shakes his head. “I don’t believe it possible. I disposed of him. Thoroughly.”

“Did you destroy his body?” You ask. Gale almost chokes on his tea at the indifference in your voice.

Astarion nods, “Entirely. There was nothing left.”

“Is that the man who was after you?” Hecat asks, but her eyes are not on you.

They are moored to Astarion, like a shipwreck lying on the ocean floor, irretrievably bound. Astarion doesn’t seem to notice as he typically does not, but these dew-eyed ogles always make jealously flare to life. You place your hand on Astarion, stop yourself from growling “mine,” and instead, settle on scowling.

Astarion is alerted to your discontentment by the heat radiated from your palm. He makes a show of kissing each of your fingers, slow and lingering, trying very hard not to snicker. He finds your jealousy endearing but equally foolish, and perhaps it is.

Hecat does not seem to care or notice. It drives you mad, so you crawl into his lap, placing yourself between him and her gawking orange eyes. You can hear Shadowheart chuckling under her breath. She knows your protectiveness of Astarion all too well.

Astarion remains casual about it as if it’s not unusual for you to sit in his lap during breakfast. He grabs the bowl of fruit you have yet to finish and shoves it into your hands, “Eat.”

You grumble curses under your breath only he can hear, at him and his bossiness, at Hecat, and shovel fruit into your mouth.

Astarion chuckles, kissing your cheek, and purrs reassuringly, “I only have eyes for you, thiramin.”

You know this, but it’s not his eyes you’re concerned about.

A knock on the door breaks you from your brewing hostility, and you nearly answer it as a reflex, but he holds you and shakes his head, “No. Not this time.”

“I’ll get it,” Shadowheart chimes.

Gale accompanies Shadowheart. All three of you are holding the Weave, ready to cast at a moment’s notice. There is an undertone of mumbling, and Astarion’s face transforms into a formidable scowl. His grip on you tightens, and he brandishes a dagger.

“Blackwell,” he growls.

Flames immediately jump to life across your skin, licking up your forearms and through your hair. Hecat is on her feet, her fists balled, stirred by your unease.

Gale returns, looking contrite, wracking his hand over his face, “I’m sorry, my friend, but we must hear him out.”

Astarion is the first to answer, his voice rough and grated in warning, “Absolutely fucking not! I don’t care what information he has or what he has to say, Gale. If you let him into this house, I will kill him. I promise you that. You would not want to get blood all over these lovely floors. Would you?”

“Information?” You ask, placing a hand on Astarion’s as he grips the dagger so tightly his fist shakes.

“Don’t be an idiot, Kamena,” Astarion snarls.

“My son,” you hear Mr. Blackwell’s voice as he sidles up behind Gale as if using him as a shield. Shadowheart has a tight clutch on his shoulder, bristling with fury, “I’ve made a grave mistake. I know I have no right to ask, but I don’t know where else to turn. I... I need your help.”

“Help?” You seethe, fingernails digging into the table to keep yourself from burning him where he stands, shoulders slumped, wringing his hat in his hands. “You want our help?! That’s laughable.”

“You killed him.” Mr. Blackwell mewls, “Didn’t you?”

You do not answer. No one does. Instead, you level him with a glower sharp enough to cut through mountains.

It is answer enough.

“I made a deal,” he continues. “No one would listen to me. No one cared. I was out of options, and then I was approached by a woman while I was at a tavern. She told me she could bring him back. She told me there was a spell that would return him to me. She said the only payment she would ask was that he would be in her service. I... I did not ask questions. I did not know what she was!”

“You godsdamned idiot,” you hiss, clenching your teeth so hard the nerves trill. “You made a deal with a vampire?”

“Nobles,” Hecat scoffs with a disgusted twist of her lips. “All wealth, zero intelligence.”

“I didn’t know!” Mr. Blackwell cries, slipping to the floor into a puddle of sorrow. “She said he would return to me the next night, and he did, but he was not the same. His mother let him in. She was so happy to see him she did not notice or care. She hugged him. He… He bit her! I could not get him to stop. He looks like you,” Mr. Blackwell says sullenly, nodding toward Astarion. “Red eyes, pale as a sheet.”

“I am sure he does,” Astarion beams a fanged, threatening grin at him, making Mr. Blackwell squeak like a mouse caught in a trap.

Questions are whirling through your mind. Why would a Vampire Lord take notice of you? Why would they waste resources – spawn, scrolls or otherwise? Why bother having you imprisoned, beaten, and weakened? There is always a purpose to their madness, but what could you have that they want?

“What could a Vampire Lord possibly want with you?” Gale echos your thoughts, fingers on his chin. “And why bring Aldous back? How did they bring him back?”

“Aldous is easy. Most likely a scroll of True Resurrection. I imagine they turned him because they knew his thirst for revenge would make him easy to manipulate. Vengeance is a powerful motivator.” Your brows furrow, tapping the table with your finger rapidly, “What I don’t understand is what use they would have for any of us. I can’t think of a single relic in our possession that would do a Vampire Lord any good.”

Hecat looks between all of you with a puzzled look. She knows too much now, adding yet another complication.

“Astarion,” Shadowheart prompts him, “You’re the resident expert on vampires. Care to speculate as to why they would go through all this trouble?”

Astarion’s brows furrow and he shrugs, “I don’t have the slightest clue. Vampires are territorial beasts, but I do not think they would go to such lengths when they could have simply attacked me while I was hunting if their concern was territory.”

You give the worn noble on the floor a once over, and you feel nothing but hatred for the pathetically snivelling man. Should you feel merciful? Gods. When did you become so callous? “Did Aldous say anything else?”

“He muttered things here and there.” Mr. Blackwell sighs letting his head drop into his hands, “Something about ruins being the key and a contract, but none of it made any sense. He seemed like he was in a haze, drunk-like.”

Ruins being a key and a contract? It's not much to go on at this point, but you suppose, it’s a start.

“Whoever this Vampire Lord is,” Shadowheart crosses her arms, “They will know exactly who we are. They will not underestimate us.”

“Indeed,” Gale agrees with a curt nod. “We must take precautions, prepare and plan for the worst.”

“Who the fuck are you people?” Hecat asks, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

“Adventurers,” you trample over Gale who is about to spill your entire story, looking him in the eyes with a warning. His mouth snaps shut. “Nothing more.”

It seems your adventure in Waterdeep is just beginning.  

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I'm forever thankful for the support. I love reading your comments ❤️

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Small Notes:

Shadowheart ❤️

I'm dying to hear all your theories on why a Vampire Lord has taken an interest! 😁

Are we trusting Hecat?

Fucking Aldous 🤬 Hopefully we get the chance to kill him... again.

[noforkingclue]

The Attic (dark!Thomas Shelby x reader)

Summary: you were told to avoid the attic because it was dangerous. But what happens when you finally stop resisting the pull towards it and ignore the warnings of your husband?

Author's Note: This was written for @zablife 2K celebration! I chose to write something for the attic! I made references to some of my other reader inserts but don't worry, you don't have to have read them to understand this fic.

(alternative title- Thomas Shelby and the Multi-Verse of Fucking Up You Life)

Hope you like the fic :)

Warnings: dark fic, reference forced married, murder

Peaky Blinders tag list: @stylesofloki, @ohshitisfenharel, @lenaskyler02, @elenavampire21, @swordofawriter, @zablife, @cillmequick, @polishcrazyone

Thomas Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts, @darlingdevil, @lyrxbz, @watercolorskyy, @notyour-valentine

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You loved the colour of Tommy’s eyes. So blue they reminded you of the sky on a warm summer’s day. You frequently found yourself getting lost in them as the two of you spent a blissful time in Paris.

Ah, Paris.

It was such a wonderful honeymoon but, as all good things, it came to an end far too quickly. Soon you found yourself back in Arrow House. Grand, beautiful, hauntingly lonely Arrow House. You knew that there were servants. Your bed was always made in the morning, food always hot and waiting for you, yet you never saw them.  You heard the sounds of people moving around and yet whenever you entered a room you never saw them. Tommy said that his family lived with him, he had such a large house that it made sense. However, you had yet to meet any of them. Hushed whispers, the sound of rustling clothes, hurriedly retreating footsteps was the most you ever got to see of them.

You were allowed free rein of the house. After all, it was your home now as well. However, the only room you weren’t allowed in was the attic. When you questioned why Tommy wrapped an arm around your waist, pulled you against him and said,

“Floor boards aren’t stable, love. In the process of getting them fixed but I don’t want you to fall through. So just stay away from there alright?”

“Alright Tommy.”

“Good girl.”

And with a soft kiss pressed against your forehead the deal was done.

At least for now.

*

Despite your faith in your husband, part of you suspected he was lying. There were nights were you laid awake looking up at the ceiling. Sometimes you heard a creek, the sound of a footstep and you’d sit bolt upright in bed. It was strange, whenever this happen Tommy always seemed to be awake. A comforting arm was wrapped around you ready to pull you back down to his comforting embrace. Tommy would mutter something about a nightmare and for you to get back to sleep and somehow you always found yourself drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

Then there was the sleep paralysis. You had never experienced it before you had moved into Arrow House. Now it had become a semi regular occurrence. The shadowy figure that seemed to melt out of the wall and slowly approach you and your husband. However, it never seemed that interested in you. The focus of the creature was purely on Tommy and you could feel the hatred seep from it. It was enough to peel the wallpaper from the wall, crack the wood in the headboard and rot the floorboards. When you woke up everything was back to normal and Tommy hadn’t seen a thing.

And yet you found yourself drawn to the attic. If you closed your eyes and concentrated hard enough you could hear the hushed whispers high above your head. You long to be a part of them. To be accepted into the Shelby family.

Which was how you found yourself at the foot of the staircase.

You knew where it lead even though it was your first time seeing it and it terrified you. The staircase was shrouded in darkness but your goal was lit up. White light shone through the crack under the attic door, lighting your way into the knowledge you so desperately craved. You knew that you shouldn’t climb it. It wasn’t safe, you could fall and injure yourself. And yet you were pulled towards it like a magnet. You were helpless as you were dragged into the inky darkness which sealed you fate.

At first you couldn’t understand why Tommy was so adamant that you avoided the attic. Sure it was bit dusty and could do with a lick of paint but the floor looked sturdy enough. You ventured in, your anxiety disappearing with each step until you were in the middle of the room. You breathed in a deeply and immediately regretted it as a cloud of dust was drawn into your nose and triggered your allergies. You coughed and spluttered and then you heard it.

A soft voice.

Soft familiar and yet so strange.

A voice you thought you had heard a thousand times before and yet not at all.

‘Leave.’

Then another.

‘Run.’

And another.

‘Escape.’

And then they all came at once. Like a flock of angry, blood thirsty birds. Like a wave determined to drag you under and drown you.

‘Leave this place.’

‘Don’t come back.’

‘He’ll kill you.’

‘He’ll destroy you.’

‘Murderer.’ / ‘Murderer.’ / ‘Murderer.’ / ‘Murderer.’

That word. Repeated over and over and over again until it didn’t sound like a word at all. You crouched to the ground, hands covering your face, as hot tears pour down your face. You should’ve listened to Tommy. You never should’ve come here.

‘You never should’ve come to Arrow House. Leave. Run. While you still can.’

It was the longest one of these voices had ever spoken to you. You peaked through your fingers and wished that you hadn’t. A figure stood in front of you. Swirling dark mist coiled around it and other things moved in the background. The voices were now just a hushed whisper but they seemed to dominate your senses.

“W… what are you?” you asked shakily

‘A warning of what will be if you don’t run.’

“Run? From who? The Shelby’s?”

‘Tommy.’

“He’s my husband. I love him.”

This caused the mist to swirl angrily and the figure melted away. Another appeared in view. Its face was a dark swirl but its body was still recognisable. It wore a white blouse, well, a blouse that was once white. Red seeped into the fabric and it leant closer.

‘He said he loved me,’ it said, ‘until he tore my throat out.’

‘He said he loved me until he took away my son from his safe life.’

‘He said he loved me until he forced me to marry him.’

‘He said he love me until he killed my Oliver.’

‘He’s a murderer.’/‘Murderer.’/‘Murderer.’

“No,” you closed your eyes tightly, “No. I know him. We’re married.”

‘So were we.’

A thousands voices all at once. They sounded like leaves rustling in a storm. Like millions of pages being rapidly turned all at once. You gripped your hair in your hands and shook your head.

“This isn’t real,” you said, “You’re not real. It’s just a hallucination brought on by too little sleep.”

‘We are real.’

‘Because you are real.’

“That doesn’t make any sense. What are you?”

‘Incorrect question.’

‘Stupid question.’

‘They always ask that question.’

‘Always.’ / ’Always.’ / ’Always.’

‘Doesn’t make it stupid.’

‘An insult to them-‘

‘-is an insult to us.’

“What does that mean?”

The creatures seemed amused at your question. They swirled closer around you, a suffocating mass of something you weren’t sure was real or not. They dominated your senses and curled around your neck as they whispered,

‘You know.’

‘Because we know.’

‘You are we-‘

‘-and we are you.’

“Wh…what?”

‘Shouldn’t stutter.’

‘She’s confused.’

‘We all were when we were her.’

‘We are her.’

‘You know what I mean.’

You shook your head and tangled your fingers in your hair. You pulled your legs up to your chest and pressed your forehead against your knees.

“This isn’t real.”

‘It is.’

‘Run.’/’Stay.’/’Run.’/’Stay.’

“This is all in my head. All in my head. All in my head.”

‘Stay we’ll die again.’

‘Run we’ll die again.’

“Maybe it’ll be different this time. He loves me.”

‘He loved all of us.’

‘And he killed all of us.’

‘And those we cared about.’

‘My parents.’

‘My sibling.’

‘My Oliver.’

“Why should I believe you?”

‘Because we’re you-‘

‘-and you’re us.’

‘We’re the same.’

‘You should kill him’

‘Kill him.’/’Kill him.’/’Kill him.’

‘I tried to kill him.’

This caused the mist to swirl around violently.

‘But you failed.’

‘We failed.’

‘You failed.’

‘He manipulated you.’

‘Us.’

You shook your head before standing up on shaking legs. You swallowed thickly and turned around and tried to walk towards the door. However, the mist blocked your escape. You didn’t know if you could walk through it or what would happen if you did.

‘Kill him.’

‘Kill him and be free.’

‘Kill him before he kills us.’

“He won’t kill us,” you shook your head and gritted your teeth, “me. He’s my husband. He loves me.”

‘And me.’/’And me.’/’And me.’

‘He loved all of us.’

‘And he killed all of us.’

‘All of us.’

‘You know we’re telling the truth.’

‘Because you are us-‘

‘-and we’

You closed your eyes and shook your head violently. The attic creaked around you and your eyes flew open at the unnatural sound. Darkness surrounded you. Suffocating inky darkness that made it impossible to breath. You took half a step forward and the voices all spoke at once again,

‘You know what you need to do. Kill him and be free of him. Be free of this family. Free us. End the cycle. Kill Thomas-‘

“Love? Are you alright?”

You let out a cry of relief as Tommy almost seemed to glide through the darkness. You flung yourself into his arms and sobbed into his chest. Tommy rubbed comforting circles against your back as you continued to cry. You could hear the whispers of the voices in the background and it took you a moment to realise that Tommy had spoken.

“I… I…”

“Shh it’s ok,” Tommy pressed a kiss on top of your head, “it’s ok. It’s just your sleepwalking.”

“I’ve never sleepwalked before.”

“Yes you have,” Tommy pressed his cheek against yours, “yes you have. I was afraid this was going to happen. The doctor did say that your memory was going to be effected.”

“Doctor?” you pulled away, “we’ve never been to a doctor.”

‘We told you.’

‘He’s manipulating you.’

‘Run.’

‘Kill.’

“Shut up!” you hissed

“I haven’t said anything.” Said Tommy

“Not you. I wasn’t talking to you.” You hissed

“You’re hearing voices.”

“Yes. No. Yes. Maybe.”

“Love,” Tommy’s hand appeared on your shoulder, “You need help.”

‘You need to get away.’

‘Kill.’/’Kill.’/’Kill.’

“Get away from me!” you shrieked

You took several steps back, eyes wide as you looked at your husband. The man you loved so deeply that it hurt but now… now you didn’t recognise him. His eyes that once reminded you of summer had changed. Winter had taken over. Ice filled your veins and you felt like you were sinking into an icy lake, your escaped blocked off by the frozen top.

“Who are you?” you asked

“You know who I am.” Thomas took a step towards you, “I’m your husband.”

“No.”

“Love, you’re not well. The lack of sleep. The voices.”

“I know my own mind.”

“Love-“

“Stop calling me that!”

You took another stepped back and let out a cry of shock. Your foot didn’t land on the floor. Instead it swung back into open air and you felt your body drop back. Was this really how it was going to end? An argument and falling through the rotten floorboards you were warned about.

But as suddenly as you were falling, you were saved. Tommy had grabbed your hand and was holding you. You looked down and swallowed thickly at the drop below. When you looked back at Tommy you were horrified to see that winter hadn’t thawed.

“Tommy,” you said, “Please.”

“Shame,” he said, “so much work yet again wasted.”

As he let you go.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Playtime

Kim Hongjoong x fem reader x Kang Yeosang

a/n: yeosangs arms + hongjoong brain rot + bsf putting ideas in my head = this ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE

"Playtime is so far from over."

✫彡wordcount: 2.4k

(>ᴗ•)genre: p w/o plot, crime au

ಠ_ಠwarning/contents: not edited, ddlg themes, established relationship(hj&reader), brat reader, dom hj, switch(?)ys, rough housing, voyeurism/exhibitionism, overstim, fingering, cunilingus, choking, squirting, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, protected and unprotected, lots of pet names

SMUT UNDER CUT MDNI

It's hard not to be intimidated. Hongjoong is big. He's buff and tall. He's the Captain of an underground vigilante group. He's scary. Even though you know deep down that your boyfriend would never put you in the line of danger or lay a hand on you: your heart is thumping as he sits back with an aura of subtly covered anger.

"You know I can't help these things. Why ar-" He takes a deep breath before he lets his anger speak for him. "You know I want you... But I have to get this done."

But you don't care. You need him. You need your boyfriend to make you stupid on his cock.

"No!" You whine, jumping up from the plush bed and jumping on him before he can stand. "Please, Daddy," you grind down on the forming tent in his dark skirt. "I'm so needy... haven't cum in days."

"I know, Baby. I'll have so much time for you when I get back. I'll take good care of my little girl."

"Wan' it now. Please, make me cum. I don't care how, just please, please!"

"I- stop it." He grabs your wrist as you go to flip up his skirt.

"You're already hard, Joongie. Let me just touch it," you almost cry, bouncing up and down on his knee. His eyes drop to your breasts, wrapped up all prettily in his favorite babydoll dress. The lace on the v-neck barely covers your nipples, and he can see a bit of pebbled flesh peek out as you move. "I need it, I need play," your brain short circuits as you watch the vein on his neck bulge.

"Need play? Stupid little girl can't even talk," he groans as he stands with you in his arms. He all but slams you on the bed and hovers over you like a predator. "Ask me again."

"I need playtime! I need it!"

He slaps you. Albeit lightly, it stings.

"I said ask, not beg."

Neither of you notice as the door opens.

"Please, Daddy... can we have playtime before you go? I promise it'll be quick, I'm so excited already."

"Daddy's gonna fuck you on his fingers, okay?" Before he's even finished speaking, you're rolling around under him to messily pull off your cute undies.

The shadowy figure at the doorway watches with wide eyes as the cotton fabric catches on your foot and dangles as Hongjoong pulls you ass to the edge. "You got something to say?" They hear him ask.

"Thank you, Joongie. Oh-" Your breath catches as he dips his longest finger into your wet cunt. You fall back in pure bliss as he fucks you on his finger slowly. "Thank you, thank you." You whine like a broken record, luring the figure to come closer.

Yeosang knocks into the desk by the door and catches both of your attention. You lean up to wrap around Hongjoong, which might be a mistake as it drives his palm into your needy clit. You whimper as you look at the newcomer, all while your boyfriend continues. "Hongjoong, s-stop."

"Stop? You wanted to cum so badly, Baby Girl. Don't act all cutesy now that Yeo's here."

"Uhm," he clears his throat. "The- eh- Seonghwa was wondering where you are. Should I tell him you're busy or..."

"Hongjo-"

"Quiet, Honey, adults are talking."

    "Joong!" You grab onto the back of his neck with your nails, crying as he presses into your g-spot. You dive your head into his chest and muffle yourself by biting at the leather on his shirt.

    "Open up my phone, Yeosang." The younger grabs it from the desk that foiled his voyeuristic tendencies. "Text him and tell him we won't be there. We'll catch the next plane."

    "We?"

   "Me and you. We've got a brat to deal with."

    "No, I- been good," it's mumbled by the leather in your teeth, but it gets across to him. "Jus' want to cum. Please, can I cum?" You whisper, locking eyes with Yeosang over his shoulder.

"Yes, Baby, cum." He moans as your hands trail down and under his skirt and boxers, grabbing the flesh of his ass. "Cum for Daddy. Get that pussy gushing for some real playtime."

Your eyes roll back as you clench down on his fingers, body threatening to fall back when his free hand wraps around your back and pulls you flush. It feels so, so, so good. Flooding your system and making you shiver with pleasure.

Only he doesn't stop. "God-" Your plead breaks off in your throat, leaving you silently screaming as the lewd noises fill your ears. "Daddy, please! S'too much! Too much! Gonna break!" You writhe around, slipping from his grasp and scooting away only for his fingers to follow you like they're a magnet.

"You're not gonna break," he laughs, grabbing the flimsy fabric of your babydoll dress and fists it tightly. "Stay still."

You can't. His fingers feel too good. Your mind is going into over drive with the flood of pleasure and you don't realize that your now backing into Yeosangs hard form. You only realize when you grab onto his knee and slot yourself between his legs.

He tilts your head up to face him and smiles at the way your face feels so hot in his hands. "Hi, Baby."

"Sangie, s'too good. Make him stop. M'gonna cum again." You kick your legs, one of which held in place by Hongjoong while he watches the encounter closely. It's not the first time you've played with one of his members, and it won't be the last. But he still makes sure you don't slip too far and off the deep end. He makes sure Yeosang follows the boundaries that are set in stone. He still makes sure to watch your hands incase you try to tell him it's really too much.

But your hands are only grabbing the sheets desperately. Your begging is only for compassion. And Yeosang provides it as your boyfriend continues his assault on your sloppy cunt.

"Awe, poor Bunny. You want me to hold your hand?" You nod, lifting your hand up in a grabbing motion. He wraps it up in his and gives you a comforting squeeze as Hongjoong lowers his head to face your core. "Didn't you ask Daddy to make you cum?"

"Mhm." You bite your lip as you watch him descend, teasing you by licking his lips.

"Then shouldn't you say thank you?"

"Thank y-"

You scream as he dives right into your pussy, focusing on your neglected pearl as he draws tight circles on it. "Fuck!"

He slaps your thigh as you try to run away, pulling back to scold you. "Watch your language, Missy."

"Sorry, shit- God! I'm sorry, Daddy! M'sorry! I'm gonna cum again! Please," you yell as your body betrays you and writhes around between them. "Please, can I?"

"Hold her still."

You groan as Yeosang lets go of your hand and wraps one big arm around your torso, the other around your collar bones, keeping your upper body still while Hongjoong holds your hips still with his free hand pressing into your pelvis.

As he starts licking at your weeping cunt, you scream, staring up at Yeosangs beautiful eyes, watching them glaze over with lust as he watches. "Sangie..." You whisper. All eyes flick to you. "Choke me while he makes me cum. Please. Please, Sir, choke me! M'close!"

He looks to Hongjoong, who shows now signs of stopping, he just looks to your neck, like he's waiting to watch your request play out. "Please, S-Sir! Want your pretty arms around my throat- need... need them!"

He obliges, arm sliding up and around your throat. He tightens it ever so slightly, and your eyes roll back before fluttering shut completely. "Our Baby likes being choked," he hums, amused, as your grab at his arm with one hand and Hongjoongs hair with the other. "Think she's gonna cum, Joong."

    He pulls away for a split second, slick dribbling from his chin. "Go harder, Sangie."

    "Yeah," you moan blissfully, dumbly repeating your Daddy, "harder, Sangie!"

His beautifully sculpted arms tighten like an anaconda, making the edges of your vision blur as the pleasure consumes your whole being. You tense up in their hold as your second orgasm in a row snaps in your gut. Clawing at his arm with a fucked out face, you wet your boyfriends face with your cum.

They watch in fascination as you squirt, Hongjoong quickly opening his mouth to slurp it all up. He hums around your over-sensitive cunt, making you come back down to Earth with a whimper of, "more, Daddy."

     Yeosang goes to drop his arm when you pull it right back up, glaring up at him with tearful eyes through your moist lashes. "Daddy?" You call out as you keep your eyes on him.

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"Can Sangie fuck me, please?"

He wipes his face on the back of his hand and climbs up over you, untangling you from Yeosangs arms and lifting you up to your knees. He balls up a good amount of the fabric of the skimpy nightgown and then rips it off.

Yeosnag works quickly to grab the spaghetti straps and pulls them over your shoulders, leaving you bare and breathless between the leather clad men.

    "Because you asked so nicely, Starlight," he coos as he wipes back your messy hair. He leaves soft kisses all over your sweaty face, and pauses before diving into your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue as she shoves it into your mouth. He doesn't give you any time to register what's even happening behind you.

    Yeosang tosses the foil off the bed and wraps himself up snuggly before climbing right up on you. He slips right into your tight cunt and moans in tandem with you as he inches in.

     He fits so differently than Hongjoong, who's cock is all but imprinted in your insides, but it's just as delicious when he fully settles inside your gummy walls.

     "Does he feel good, Baby? Making your pussy happy?" He asks as he cups your heated cheeks, smiling as you nod with a fucked out grin.

     "Ki- kissies."  You whimper as Yeosangs thrusts send you into his chest. "Kissies, Dada. Please."

    He licks up your collar bone to your ear, holding your hips in place as Yeosang tries rearrange your insides to fit him instead of Hongjoong.

   He bites down on your earlobe and you grab his shoulders, moaning like a bitch in heat.

  He snakes his arm back around your neck and grabs his friend with the other to steady the both of you.

      "You're such a good girl," Hongjoong muses, kissing you harshly. Your cunt tightens around Yeosangs girth and he tightens his arm, making you moan into the kiss. He leans away breathlessly, colliding his forehead with yours. "My good little slut. Aren't you? Making all our friends so happy? Letting them fuck that pretty cunt."

     "Yes, Daddy," you huff, keeping your eyes trained on him even as your vision blurs. "M'your good girl."

    "Open up, good girl." He taps your lips and slides his slick covered digits into your mouth. "That's it," he moans as you gag on them.

     Yeosang watches in a trance, hips snapping into your ass and filling the room with the lewdest noises of your gooey cunt. He leans his head against yours, all of your breaths colliding in the close proximity. He can hear the way his fingers kiss the back of your throat, just barely. And it drives him crazy.

    "Fuck her harder. Make her cum again."

     "Gah-" You screech as Yeosangs long cock knocks against your cervix at the same time Hongjoongs palm slaps your puffy clit. "Can't! Daddy! Daddy! M- I can't!" He swirls the two extra wet fingers around your clit and cups your chin, squishing your cheeks.

     His fingers still for a moment as you pout at him, giving him puppy dog eyes. Then he slaps them back down and returns his unrelentingly circles. "Fuck, Daddy!"

     "Watch that mouth, Honey, or we'll have to keep it busy."

     "M'sorry! It's- I can- Daddy!"

    "Why don't you cum for me?" Yeosang coos behind your ear, making sure his lips never touch your skin. "Cum all over my cock, Pretty Bunny."

    "Ah! Ah! Sangie! Gonna- I'm go-" Before you can warn him properly, your pussy is cumming and milking him for all he's worth as he fills up the condom.

    You both fall into Hongjoongs waiting arms and he lays you down gently, making him whine as he slips out of your heat.

"Good," he whispers lowly, watching you turn slowly and cling to Yeosang as he tears of his clothes. He comes close to you, only in his skirt and boxers. "Can't you take one more, Starlight? Wanna take Daddy's load?" You nod softly, scooting to lay lonesome and spread your legs. "Yeah? Want me to fill up that little cunt?"

"Please, Daddy." You smile as Yeosang cuddles up to your side and reaches his hand down to your puffy pussy. He's gentle as he spreads you for him, looking up at him for approval.

"Thank you, Sangie." He says with a quick pat and a smile.

You cry as he slips into you, grabbing Yeosangs head and whining into his sweaty hair.

"Oh, don't cry," he wipes your tears away. "Playtime is so far from over."

-

-

[lowpolyanimals]

Axolotl Wolf from Shadowy Bliss

[acourtofsmut]

sleepy shadows

(softdom!azriel x sleepysub!reader)

rating: (NSFW/18+)

a/n: hello, lovelies!! 😇 I took an edible, and this came out from within my soul. This is barely edited and super short… whoops. 😬 But, I saw someone post the other day in search of Azriel content with shadow play, and I’ve been thinking about that ever since. Here you go! Enjoy! 🤗🫶🏻

warnings: smut, sensory/erogenous zone play, shadow play, sleepy sex, overstimulation kind of (f. receiving), and softdom vibes

Your eyes felt heavy, every so often they would slip shut only to be jolted awake. That familiar tug in your chest soothing you back to sleep. His chest was currently pressed up against your back while you both laid on your side on the bed, one hand cushioning your neck as the other torturing your naked figure.

A teasing hand traces your ribs leaving you riddled with goosebumps and slightly gasping for air. You want to thrash away from those lovely, tortuous hands.

Curl away from them, but you force yourself to curl into them.

To endure it because it feels so overwhelmingly pleasurable. His hands gliding up to circle your nipples. Your nipples have always been an erogenous zone, eliciting little gasps and moans to escape your lips. Always making your hips start to buck in search of friction. Instinctively, you reach a hand back and grasp at his neck, threading your fingers through his silky black hair in order to lock you two together.

“Stop being so cruel…” you sigh, tightening your grip in his hair, a pout gracing your lips. A scarred finger traces down the front of your stomach. The place you are the most ticklish… as his finger lowers, your abs clench in anticipation of his destination. You can’t help but mewl, whining out a breathless, “pleeease.”

Your pleas only earn you a throaty chuckle, “stop being so needy…” Azriel growls softly at the back of your ear. In a shiver of pleasure, you arch your back, pressing your butt against his hard member. He starts to slowly thrust once his cock settles snugly between your cheeks, grunting lightly.

Suddenly, you feel that familiar shadowy presence along your skin, immediately recognizing the tingle of the comforting darkness.

His shadows.

They start to trace along your skin like his fingers, honing in on the particularly sensitive areas. Within seconds, you are quivering. A ball of pleasure, almost too overwhelming.

That ache in your core becoming too much to bare, you beg, “inside me… please. Put it inside me…. Wa-wanna…”.

“Okay, sweet girl. Okay…,” he interrupts soothingly as his tip swipes at the wetness between your legs. His voice turning a bit more rough, “I’ll fill you right up, (y/n),” he growls possessively, his arms wrapping around you. Holding you just the way he wants you.

Your body completely exhausted, all you want is a release. “But, I’m so tired. I-I- don’t know… I-if I can move,” you manage to get out drowning in sleepy bliss. You want to cum, but you can barely keep your eyes open. Knowing exactly what you need, his hand strokes along your head, “I’ll take care of you, my love, just relax…,” cock pushing inside of you slowly.

Inch by inch. Filling you up deliciously. The head of his cock massaging against that spot that has you whimpering, out of breath. Once he’s full sheathed inside you, you feel his shadows start to play with your clit. You gasp as the motion feels exactly as if it’s his tongue licking you.

The shadows increase their pace, wiggling back and forth vigorously while adding a bit more pressure. Your breath catches, eyes rolling back as the pleasure turns hot and you feel yourself clench around his cock. He groans slightly thrusting a bit more inside, his shadows beginning to vibrate.

A searing hot pleasure shoots through your body, tensing as you cum hard, his arms wrapped around you tighten bracing you for the pleasure he was bringing you.

Your core beginning to pulse, milking his cock as you rock back against him. Squeezing him until you are just left twitching every once in a while.

Collecting your breath, eyes closed, you feel so high. Carefree, drunk on pleasure, you let him continue thrusting.

Just taking the overwhelming sensation, Azriel groans in your ear, “I’m close, sweet girl. I’m cumming inside that adorable, perfect pussy,“ he purrs into your ear. A couple more thrusts and he paints your walls, his seed warming you from within. Coming to a stop, Azriel slowly pulls out of your warmth, the both of you hissing softly at the disconnect.

The last thing you hear is “go to sleep my love, I’ll take care of you.” Your mind going fuzzy and in utter bliss, your brain finally allows you to fall asleep.

(thank you so much for reading this far! much love 🤍)

[cece693]

Pain (Lestat de Lioncourt x Male Vamp. Reader)

This small fic came to me while looking through Pinterest. You know those little 'aesthetic' quotes? Well, it came from this one specifically:

'I loved you even when it hurt.'

This fic includes things from both the movie and TV show, so no specific Lestat was used for inspiration. Enjoy.

Summary: On the anniversary of his transformation, m/r can't help but remember his past: one that includes his ex-lover and sire, Lestat de Lioncourt.

M/n was tired. Though his outward appearance betrayed no signs of aging—no wrinkles, no gray hair, no creaking bones—the weight of centuries bore down on him. As he gazed at the midnight sun, a harbinger of his impending retreat to his coffin, m/n decided to indulge himself and spend more time out in the open. After all, this was the only time he could enjoy the new wonders of the world, yet this was not just any ordinary day. Tonight marked the anniversary of m/n's transformation into one of the undead.

Reflecting on the past, m/n reminisced about the persuasive allure of Lestat, the vampire who had sweet-talked his way around rationality, promising a life brimming with pleasure and abundance. In the initial decades, it was a splendid existence.

Lestat had a way of making m/n feel truly special. The once mundane aspects of mortal life were now elevated to extraordinary heights in the vampiric realm, and Lestat made sure m/n felt the full extent of his newfound powers.

There were moonlit strolls through shadowy alleyways, where Lestat shared the secrets of their immortal world. He spoke of the intoxicating thrill of the hunt, the taste of forbidden blood, and the freedom that came with transcending the limitations of mortality. Lestat created a world where every moment felt like an eternity of bliss. However, m/n should've known his novelty would wear off. Lestat was a man driven by desire and ambition, wanting to taste the newest and finest things in life. What would m/n offer to such a monster who had already taken everything? So when Lestat's attention was redirected to another human named Louis, m/n felt pain.

He was angry at Lestat for casting him aside, yet the blame couldn't be placed on him alone—m/n should've known that a creature such as Lestat could never be tied down, despite how much he proclaimed to love you. So, when the ethereally beautiful vampire introduced Louis as his newest creation, a realization dawned on m/n. Lestat wasn't his anymore.

And Louis, the unwitting figure in their love triangle, bore no blame for his and Lestat's fallout. M/n grappled with conflicting emotions, attempting to cultivate hatred towards the vampire who seemed to have stolen Lestat away. Yet, against his own efforts, all he could muster was pity. For as much as Louis and Lestat showcased their 'love' through tender kisses and clandestine touches, m/n saw through the facade.

In the quiet moments when Lestat thought no one was watching, m/n observed the flickers of longing and boredom in the vampire's blue eyes. It became evident that the passion between Louis and him, while palpable, was also marred by perpetual restlessness. Not even months into Louis' stay did the cracks in their relationship begin to manifest themselves.

"Out with Antoinette?" Louis would hiss, the accusatory tone hanging heavy in the air, ensuing another argument between the two. As the discord between Louis and Lestat escalated, M/n found himself unwittingly becoming a refuge for Lestat. The vampire, seeking solace in the familiar, turned to M/n whenever the storms of conflict raged with Louis. In those moments of anger, Lestat was M/n's again, yet it also drove him to the brink of madness and unhappiness.

He had days, if lucky, where things would go back to how they were—a semblance of the love they once shared. But whenever the storms settled between Louis and Lestat, m/n would be relegated to loneliness once more. One day, unable to bear the emotional rollercoaster any longer, he confronted Lestat. The air was thick with tension as they stood facing each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

"You can't keep doing this, Lestat." M/n pleaded, the frustration and anguish evident in his voice. "Keep me here when you clearly love Louis. How would you like it if I were to do the same?"

M/n regretted saying anything as Lestat's eyes darkened, and a snarl emerged on the vampire's lips. In a sudden, swift motion, Lestat pinned m/n to the wall, his grip firm and possessive. The room seemed to close in as Lestat hissed, "You belong to me."

"I don't belong to anyone." M/n retorted, anger engulfing his body.

Lestat laughed coldly in his face, grip tightening, he smirked. "That's where you're wrong, love," he taunted, his voice dripping with both amusement and cruelty. "I own you…"

The possessive declaration sent a chill down m/n's spine, his anger giving way to a growing sense of unease. Lestat's dark laughter reverberated in the confined space, echoing the shifting power dynamics between them. Trapped against the wall, m/n felt the weight of Lestat's control, a dominance that left him conflicted and vulnerable.

Lestat's smirk widened, his gaze predatory as he continued, "You're mine to protect, mine to control. I've tasted your blood, felt your heartbeat sync with mine. You're bound to me in ways you can't comprehend."

M/n, trapped against the wall, felt a cold chill run down his spine at Lestat's words. The once cherished intimacy between them now felt like chains, binding M/n to a fate he hadn't fully understood.

In a moment of intense emotion, Lestat, fueled by the strange dance of power and desire, leaned in, capturing m/n's lips in a possessive kiss. The meeting of their mouths was both a declaration of dominance and a desperate attempt of Lestat's to re-establish his control over m/n. Perhaps, in his pursuit of novelty and excitement, he had unknowingly neglected his first creation in favor of the alluring Louis. However, what neither m/n nor Louis knew was that, hidden beneath the layers of Lestat's charismatic exterior, there existed a capacity for love.

As Lestat's lips sought dominance in the heated kiss, there was an intricate play of emotions beneath the surface.

The neglect that m/n had felt wasn't an absence of love but rather a reflection of Lestat's internal struggle to navigate the complexities of immortal relationships. Lestat, a vampire with a history of numerous lovers, had reveled in the pleasures of passion without feeling a deep emotional connection—until m/n entered the picture. Even his intense relationship with Louis didn't compare to the profound connection he shared with m/n.

As the intensity of their heated kiss began to wane, Lestat pulled away, his eyes fixed on m/n with a mixture of possessiveness and intensity. "If you dare to run away," Lestat whispered, "Know that I'll drag you back to my side. And that's a promise."

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Fae Prince Sun, Fae Prince Moon, Fae King Eclipse x Witch Reader

(excerpt from upcoming chapter 5 of Extended Contract)

Warnings: suggestive themes and the usual Fae tomfoolery

“We are running out of vases for me to knock over, Sun.“

“Now, now, practice makes perfect.“

“Yes, I am a professional bulldozer now.“

Sun gave you a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

“Tut-tut, you sassy darling. I meant for the dancing lesson part, not the damage part. Although, that last crash? Exquisite, definitely recommend it as a new ringtone for your mobile device, it would be an improvement.“

“My dear prince, you may be cute, but not cute enough to get a pass on insulting my taste in music.“

“Permit me to make a retort in a similar manner. Your beauty could place all stars to shame, and you don't get a pass out of this formality either. We will have to open the first dance when we arrive in the Grand Hall, my love.“

“Is this really necessary?“

“Royal etiquette and tradition. Courtly gallantry is of crucial importance. Additionally, one must demonstrate refinement and confidence through their movement, the ability to command attention. You never know what diplomatic affairs or arrangements may be struck in these close encounters where you have to whisper sweet nothings to the other party as you sway them in every sense of the term.“

You blinked at him.

“It's my birthday, Sun. If I want to sit in the corner with a glass of brandy without elaborating anything, then everyone else in the Celestial Court will just have to deal with it.“

He chuckled, tapping the tip of your nose once more. You had half a mind to bite his finger off.

“Admirable attitude, lovely. Completely against court politics, but admirable nonetheless.“

You heard Moon grumble as he was taking care of the shards, waving his hand and letting them disintegrate into blue smoke.

“Clean up, clean up. Since we are already on the topic of practice and perfection, I now officially qualify as a maid.“

You couldn't help but smirk at the lunar Fae.

“Serves you right after laughing at my dancing skills, Moon.“

“Such slanderous words, wishing star. I deny these accusations. I wasn't laughing at your dancing skills, I was laughing at the lack thereof.“

You rolled your eyes and shrugged, turning your gaze back to his twin.

“Sun, your gremlin of a brother does have a point.“

The solar Fae tilted his head in confusion, his sun rays slightly lowering and rising as if they were the ears of a confused puppy.

“He does?“

“We have been practicing this move for the past indeterminate amount of ridiculously long hours and the only thing we accomplished thus far is almost giving Moon a concussion when he fell off the chair cackling like an idiot.“

Moon grinned, shadows moving around him playfully, forming grimaces on the walls as if to accentuate the mirth of their master. As much as he despised the necessity of dealing with broken glass and porcelain, he could not deny that the spectacular disaster he was witnessing was a nice compensation.

“Beautiful witch, your presence makes my soul sing, but do pardon me when I say that if we ever find ourselves in need of getting even with a foe, we will simply send you to dance in their house till you raze it to the ground.“

“I shan't pardon a single thing and you just earned yourself a night of sleeping on the floor, Moon.“

A part of you expected him to retaliate with a wicked trick, but he decided to take a more suave approach, knowing that he could get under your skin in other ways. He extended a shadowy tendril in your direction, allowing it to glide over your cheek and along your neck, making you shudder. Prince Moon knew very well what effect he could have on you, how sensitive you were, both to his touch and his sinfully passionate poetry.

“Divine cruelty, blissful and sweet, flames so tender, my heart eagerly awaits the gentle wrath of fallen stars. I offer my life to my fair beloved, their kisses and their blades equally dear to me. Banishment only stirs the dreams and my arms embrace your form even in the loneliest of dungeons.“

His raspy voice was low and sultry, mesmerizing, worthy of a powerful nocturnal Fae that could enthrall the masses if he so pleased. As he spoke, the shadowy tendril kept caressing your neck and around your collarbone. Desire bloomed in your core, but you did your best to suppress it and get your wits together. Moon was aware of your mental turmoil and he winked at you, grinning,  devious scenarios already playing out in his mind. Wicked man, shameless.

You groaned, flustered and defeated. Like a cranky cat, you tried to swat the dark tendril away, only for it to curl around your wrist.

“Moon, you devil.“

“Your devil, at your service. Command and I shall comply.“

[indndwnshead]

Veiled: Introduction

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Warning/tags: Mafia AU, Age Gap (like 8 years of difference), there will be violence but not in this intro, soft/sickly/naive reader and dominant mafia boss Yoongi (why do I love this type of story but please don't be like this irl girls??)

----

In the heart of Seoul, where towering skyscrapers cast long shadows, the Kim family's presence was both a whispered legend and an ominous reality. Known as the second-ranking family within the Min Mafia Empire, their influence was a shadowy force to be reckoned with. Raised within the confines of a luxurious mansion, you, the youngest of the four Kim siblings, had always lived in blissful ignorance of the intricate details of your father's and your brothers' sinister dealings. Your health issues, stemming from your premature birth, had kept you confined to the safety of your home, your world painted with the colours of innocence.

Jin, your eldest brother and a man of honour, had been your saviour from the moment you took your first breath. He was your protector, your confidant, and your anchor in a world filled with uncertainty. Though groomed to be the successor to your father's power, Jin had surprised everyone by choosing to pursue a career in medicine instead. His decision had been a profound act of love, a choice made to ensure that your fragile existence was never jeopardized by the dangerous world of crime your family inhabited.

Namjoon, the middle sibling, was a genius in his own right. His sharp mind had always made him stand out. But as he delved deeper into the family business under your father's tutelage, he had become somewhat distant. You carried the weight of guilt for this transformation, believing that he resented both you and Jin for the choices they made that seemed to leave him with no option but to step into the void left by Jin's departure from the mafia world. In reality, Namjoon's distance was driven by a desire to protect your innocence from the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface.

Taehyung, your closest brother in age, initially harboured resentment when you were born. You became the centre of attention, diverting everyone's focus away from him. However, a single incident marked a turning point - the day you fainted after Taehyung finally asked you to play together for the first time. Overjoyed at the opportunity to share a playful moment with your youngest brother, your happiness led you to push your fragile health limits. Taehyung swore he had only turned away for a brief moment, racing ahead as you chased him in a game of tag. Yet, when he glanced back, you had already collapsed, unconscious on the ground. It was in that critical moment that Taehyung realized the fragility of your existence. From that moment onward, he transformed into your most trusted ally and partner-in-crime within the confines of your sheltered life. Taehyung understood your limits better than anyone else and knew precisely how to push your buttons.

Your life took an unexpected turn when you turned eighteen and your father announced the arranged marriage between you and Yoongi, the only child of Mr. Min, the formidable head of the Min Mafia Empire. The news had left you elated and anxious, for you had long admired Yoongi from afar. Your crush on him had blossomed into a deep affection ever since your sixteenth birthday. However, as you entered the latter half of your teenage years, Yoongi had slowly but inexplicably distanced himself from you.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had also fallen for you, but he carried the weight of guilt. The age gap and the complexities of your family's mafia ties had convinced him that his feelings were inappropriate. He had kept his emotions locked away, leaving you to wonder why he had become a distant figure in your life.

Now, at twenty-two and thirty, you and Yoongi were officially married, a couple in the eyes of the world. The façade of your love was convincing, but the words "I love you" had never left Yoongi's lips. He was fiercely protective and possessive of you, guarding the secret of his feelings with the same intensity he employed to protect you from the perilous world into which you had been thrust. Yet, you remained in the dark about the true nature of your family's involvement in the criminal empire, a world where darkness and danger lurked in the shadows, and where your innocence had been carefully shielded from the truth.

However, your life soon took a turn for the worse when you unknowingly let a seemingly innocent new friend enter your life, unveiling your perception of your world.

---

A/N: One day I had this wild thought and gave birth to a 7k+ word story. Testing the waters to see if there is interest in the plot. IT WILL GET ANGSTY (possibly smutty, idk, not sure about this one yet). Please let me know? 🥹

Also yes, very self-indulgent of me to get all the Kims to be your brother and just get all those angsty plots and AU into one big story.

[spark-my-nature]

It Takes Three to Tango (4) - DRW & SFK

The trio of terror, back by popular demand (it's me, I wanted to write it)

Chapter Summary: Sam, Danny and you navigate the morning after.

Chapter WC: 6.4K | Pairings: Danny x Reader x Sam (MFM threesome with slash pairings)

Warnings: 18+ Explicit sexual content (Oral, M/F receiving, anal fingering), language, spanking if you squint

Previous chapter

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

Your face was warm, a different sort of warm than the sweaty, sticky warmth surrounding your body. As you drifted into consciousness, you saw the red shadowy light of the sun behind your closed eyelids, and you sighed quietly, letting yourself slowly become aware of your surroundings before you even opened your eyes. 

You could smell patchouli faintly, and the lavender spray you spritzed on the bedsheets after doing laundry. The latter you expected, the former caused a smile to creep across your face as memories began flashing in your mind’s eye, as there was only one boy you associated with that musky, hippie smell. 

Sammy. 

Eyes still closed, you listened closely as you determined the position you were laying in. Behind you, big-spooning up to your back, was the hot sweaty chest of a still-snoring Daniel. His big, familiar muscled arms secured your body as close as his sleeping figure could get you, your heart swelling with a rush of adoration for the teddy bear you called your boyfriend. You let yourself relax into the little slice of heaven that Danny created for you every time he held you close like this, impenetrable against the world, just for a little while in this innocent morning’s quiet. 

Your hand rested on another expanse of warm skin, and your pillow, you realized, was no pillow at all, but rather a plane of smooth, soft skin stretched over sinewy muscle. Your heart fluttered, a real grin that you didn’t even try to conceal forming across your half-hidden face. 

Curiosity won over the sleepy bliss you felt, fueled by the need to gain a visual account of this hazy, soft entanglement of bodies and bedsheets to pair with your other three senses. 

From the corner of your eye, the curtains, fluttering with the summer breeze blowing through the cracked-open window, filtered the beaming sun down to a golden, muted glaze of light that seemed to anoint the three of you in it’s delicate sheen. 

Down below, Sam’s chest, rhythmically rising and falling with his gentle breaths. Your hand rested just at the bottom of his ribcage, your pinkie finger nestled in the subtle hollow of his abdomen beneath it. Up and down like a ship, your hand rode the silky skin like ocean waves lulling you into an even more peaceful trance.

Directly in front of you, Sam’s neck, and a little higher, his jaw, just out of focus but visible in your peripheral. Shadows blanketed this hollow you’d nested in through your slumber like a little owl, kept safe and sound through the night between both men. The one behind you, guarding your heart and soul, familiarity and security, owner and giver of the most whole and sublime love you’d ever known, your knight in shining armor. And the one before you, your figurative devil-on-your-shoulder sidekick, your most treasured and closest friend that could, and had, taken you through the trenches and peaks of new experiences, and then in turn, had guided you back home with a comforting smile and a promise of more adventure. 

Danny was passionate, unselfish and encompassing love. 

After the evening you’d shared with him, you felt even more certain of it, and even more in love with him. If Danny’s place in your heart was a tree, it would be the biggest, sturdiest old oak, meters wide and roots just as deep into the ground as the trunk was tall. 

There was a new seed now, though, one that you knew in your heart had always been buried, dormant and unacknowledged. The shell of it, buried deep in the earth, had, sometime between last evening and this moment in time, cracked open with the tiniest sprout of that very same, warm feeling, growing its way upward right alongside Danny’s metaphorical tree.

It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling. You didn’t even really feel guilty once you realized it was there. You knew there had to be a discussion with Danny, though, but mostly because you had a sneaking, heart-warming suspicion that he felt it too. 

But not now. The talking could come later, not now when your boyfriend’s arms squished you closer in his sleep and your friend, recently turned lover, rolled his head lazily to rest his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Your heart rate picked up slightly as Sam’s hand clumsily located your hand on his chest, curling his long fingers around your own smaller ones as a hum of contentment vibrated beneath them. 

“Are you still sleeping?” came his whispered, sleepy question, slurred in an unvocalized rasp across your forehead. 

You smiled shyly into his neck. “No, I’m awake,” you breathed back. 

The shift of his face against your head belayed his smile, making your heart flutter all over again. As if to make it burst entirely, he pressed his lips in a soft, tender kiss to your forehead, then took a deep breath of your sweet-smelling hair before sighing happily. 

“Danny looks so young when he sleeps.” Sam’s quiet remark had your chest clenching with an unnamable emotion.

“Mmm. You’re lucky, you knew him when he was young.”

Sam smiled wistfully as he nuzzled affectionately into your hair, his eyes still tracing his oldest friend’s sleeping face. “Yeah, especially cause we’re so ancient now. Over the hill.”

You smiled as you buried your face further into Sam’s neck, “I hope you have your names on retirement home lists.”

Sam’s grin was evident in his voice, even as he yawned, “Nah, Danny’s gonna keep me in his attic, we already planned it out. He said he’ll bring me soup every day and he’ll keep a bedpan up there, and as soon as he can’t climb the stairs anymore, he’ll send a few beautiful young ladies up there who’ll give me one last hoorah before my heart gives out and I keel over in a blaze of glory.”

By the end of his tirade, you were desperately muffling your giggles against his neck, playfully smacking his chest, “Oh my god, shut up, you’re such an idiot.” 

Sam laughed under his breath, pleased as ever that he’d made you laugh. 

“Plans might’ve changed now, though.” 

“Oh yeah?” you grinned.

He nodded lightly, “Mhm, yeah, see, now I know that I don’t need hookers, cause my heart almost gave out last night with you alone.” You snorted into another round of muffled laughter, and he continued, “May as well save my retirement money, right? I’ll just get you to finish me off- ha, in both ways,” he giggled, “and then I can leave my dwindling estate to you and Danny’s grandkids, set ‘em up for college, white picket fences, the whole american dream.”

You finally lifted your head out of his neck, taking in each other’s faces for the first time that morning with matching goofy smiles. “You realize I’d be all wrinkly and grey, right? I’d probably have to take my dentures out before anything.”

Sam exaggeratedly rolled his eyes back with a fake moan, smirking at you, “No teeth? Sounds like a win to me.”

You groaned quietly, cringing and laughing. “You’re disgusting!”

“Sam, stop grossing out my girlfriend.” You craned your neck around with a giggle at Danny’s exasperated morning voice, muffled against your shoulder. His curls were an unholy mess around his sweet freckled face, and your heart skipped a beat as he fluttered his long dark lashes open, fixing you with his mossy green speckled, earthy eyes. 

“G’morning, baby,” you smiled, feeling especially lovesick for him this morning. 

He hummed with a sleepy, loving smile, blinking at you demurely. “Morning, sunshine,” he purred, voice deep and rumbly as he leaned forward to give you a kiss. 

Sam watched you both interact, curious and fond, feeling not quite included but not quite left out either. Prying his way out of that neutral sort of limbo, he joked softly, “Hey, don’t I get a good morning kiss?”

A strange pang of guilt was soothed by the exhilarated warmth you felt as Danny grinned lazily and shifted up on his elbow to lean over you. “Course you do, pretty boy,” he flirted, a devastatingly sexy thing to say when paired with the deep roughness of his voice. 

Sam blushed with a shy smile as he leaned forward, closing his eyes as Danny’s lips pressed to his. Beneath them, you watched from the interesting angle how your boyfriend kissed, how he claimed Sam’s bottom lip, just like he did yours, and how Sam let himself be led through the gentle kiss, the slight angle he tipped his head to, the quiet noise of their lips as they pulled apart. 

It was so pure, and genuine. They kissed like they had been lovers since the beginning of time, so in tune with each other, it made you forget they’d only known each other in this way for mere hours. 

Sam flashed Danny with a smile that was both shy and knowing, Danny returning it with a fond grin of his own. Sam then looked down at you, raising his brows in a wordless question, his eyes pleading, ‘Please let me in, let me in and kiss me, like he did.’

You made the split-second realization, then, that the almost telepathic connection your boys had was shared with you and Sam as well, and the thought made you want to scream with happiness, with how full of love and joy you felt. You pulled Sam by the neck with a blissful smile, and he seemed to absolutely melt above you, slotting his lips with yours warmly with the tiniest, almost untraceable groan of relief and satisfaction.

When he pulled his lips away, he simply gazed down at you for a moment, thoughtful and infatuated, like he was trying to read your mind, but also like he already knew what you were thinking, and he loved it. 

Danny’s hand ran along the curves of your waist and hips beneath the blanket, settling just past the swell of your hipbone at the top of your thigh. You became so suddenly aware that all three of you were naked beneath the fuzzy sheet, your cheeks felt hot as a quirky grin found its way on your face. 

Sam face morphed into a mischievous smirk, effortlessly following your train of thought, having watched Danny’s hand move under the blanket. 

You stared up at him for a second, and began giggling shyly beneath his smug gaze. “Quit staring at me like that,” you weakly protested, only making his smirk grow. 

“Like what?” He teased, “I’m not allowed to look at you now?” 

You jokingly shook your head, faking an innocent grin. “Nope, that’s right.” 

Danny chuckled behind you, thumbing over your hip teasingly as he watched. 

Sam raised a brow, bringing his hand up to the hem of the blanket where it draped over the swell of your breasts. “So I definitely… shouldn’t…” he trailed off with an increasingly devious smirk, toying with the blanket. You wriggled, giggling as you went to hold your blanket up with the hand that had rested on Sam’s chest, but Danny teamed up with the enemy and grabbed your wrist, securing you defenselessly with a naughty giggle. 

“Hey!” You gawked playfully at Danny, getting only a shrug and a smirk for an answer. Sam playfully tugged the blanket down an inch, threatening to uncover more as you laughed and struggled against Danny’s hold. 

To your surprise, Sam released the blanket and smiled wide, even holding it up to your collarbones as he dove in for a quick kiss and then sat up to get out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” Danny quickly asked, sounding adorably worried. 

Beautiful and shamelessly naked, Sam stood up, cracking a smirk as both you and Danny blushed and pointedly directed your gaze to his face. “Just bathroom,” he gestured with a thumb. “I’ll be back in a sec.” 

He strolled out casually, and you bit your lip as your eyes lowered to the cute wiggle of his butt before the bathroom door shut behind him across the hall. 

Glancing from the corner of your eye, you caught Danny doing the same thing and you giggled, making him look down at you, blushing when he realized he’d been caught.

Giving you a bashful grin, he waved you off, “Oh, shut up.” 

You rolled around in his arms, your chest pressing to his and your mouth seeking his barely stubbled jaw. 

“Mmmmhh, why, are you feeling shy?” you smirked lazily as you kissed along the sharp angle of his face. 

“No,” Danny grinned above you, closing his eyes as your lips loved on his neck. 

“Liar,” you giggled, smoothing your hand over his chest, the one under you wedging up to cup his cheek. 

Danny huffed playfully, forgoing a response. You kissed and licked playfully over an old, faded hickey that you never seemed to let heal fully. His makeup team probably thought it was a weird birthmark at this point, but you couldn’t help it, not with the way that particular spot made Danny whine and bite his lip every time.

“Oh-“ his quivering voice sending a shock of arousal through your system. 

“It’s sweet that you’re shy, baby,” you purred, “Cute, you blush just looking at his ass when your dick was pounding into it last night.” 

Your fluttery whisper and hot breath beneath his ear drew a shiver and a tortured groan out of your boyfriend, just like you intended, and you smirked hard. 

He rolled his head as you pulled back, fixing you with an exasperated grin. “Fuck you,” he shook his head with nothing but love and humor in his tone. 

“Now there’s a suggestion,” you winked, and Danny’s eyes darkened slightly, suddenly tugging your hand south. He held your open palm to his stiff cock, and you bit your lip, all humor flying out the window at the needy twitch he gave. 

“Oh, fuck Danny,” you breathed, meeting his eyes with a flirty smile, curling your hand around his thickness, barely stroking him, enjoying the hot hardness in your hand. “You been hard the whole time?” 

He nodded, sucking on his lip before releasing it with a sharp inhale as you squeezed gently. “W-was having a nice fuckin’ dream,” he admitted, thrusting into your gentle grip. “So I woke up hard already, and then Sam, and you, and-“ he closed his eyes as his brows furrowed, whining through his nose as you began stroking him with purpose. 

Behind you, there was a smug clearing of a throat. “What about me?” 

Danny startled slightly at Sam’s cocky, pleased-as-punch voice, sending his cock through your fist with extra vigor and making him twitch and grunt, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, a response ready on your tongue before it disintegrated at the sight of Sam’s stiff cock in his fist, his opposite shoulder leaning against the wall of the doorway. 

Licking your lips, you regretfully released Danny’s cock, much to his dismay. “How long have you been standing there instead of getting your ass back in bed?” 

Sam’s face lit up in a grin, straightening and padding over, comfortably swinging a leg onto the bed and landing beside you with a bounce on the mattress. You pushed up onto your knees, sitting on your feet as both men’s hands sought their respective erections in sync. 

“You know, you two are… unfairly gorgeous,” you sighed, drinking them in as the blanket fell off your shoulders, uncovering both you and Danny to each other and to Sam’s appreciative eyes. 

Sam scooched closer to Danny, the bony shoulder brushing his bicep. “Says you,” Sam absently returned, eyes drinking in the sight of you, the curves and shadows casted in the golden light. 

Danny kept his eyes on you as he turned his face in Sam’s direction. “She takes my fucking breath away all the time,” he murmured. 

Sam bit his lip as he smiled fondly, nodding as his eyes met your blushing face again. “Yeah… I’m quickly learning what you mean.”

Sam’s head lolled to the side, leaning his temple against Danny’s shoulder. You smiled bashfully, leaning forward as you stroked both your hands up the inner thighs of both boys at either side of you, your eyes following the movements of their respective fists one at a time. 

Danny bent his knee, switching hands on his needy cock. He swallowed, his breathing picking up as his wandering eyes left your body and watched Sam’s hand for a moment. 

You watched with a knowing grin, catching the way Danny licked his lips as he lazily jerked himself. He’d looked at you that exact same way, the few times you’d found yourself putting on a show for him, not unlike the show Sammy was giving beside him under his hungry watch. 

Sam followed your gaze, Danny’s eyes flying up to meet the brown pair now locked on his. “I think we could find a better way to uh… pass the time,” he coyly hinted, glancing between you and Danny. 

You gave Danny a wide grin, your mischievous gleam making him blush preemptively and chuckle, “Seems like you’ve got something in mind, my love.” 

Sam perked up, releasing his cock to sit up straighter and matching your smile. “Oh, do share, doll,” he teased, his free hand coming to smooth up your thigh. 

You shrugged, leaning back on your hand, bringing a slow, sensual hand up your front. “Well, actually, what I’m thinking wasn’t even my idea,” you grinned pointedly at Danny, cupping your breast. 

Danny, torn between watching your hand and blushing at the playful, taunting way you lorded your knowledge over him, released himself as well and sat up to level with Sam, all three of you sitting up in a triangle. 

“By all means, babe, enlighten him,” he bashfully ran a hand through his curls. 

Sam leaned forward, bringing a knee up to his chin and leaning on it as he bit back his boyish smile. “Ohh ho ho, spill, sweetheart.” 

You smirked at Danny, giving him a teasing flick of your brows, then pushed forward, crawling over Sam and guiding him beneath you on his back. He watched with excited fascination as you manhandled him down, wiggling and shifting down the bed and finally settling at the opposite side of him. With Sam sandwiched between you and Danny, both of you hovering over him, you leaned down and gave him a sweet kiss. 

Danny shifted onto his side, holding himself up on his elbow, touching a hesitant hand to Sam’s upper thigh. You smiled faintly, kissing a wet trail down Sam’s sinewy neck, humming a pleased sound when Sam shivered and parted his lips with a sigh. 

“Well, let me set the scene,” you began in a low, seductive voice, roaming your hand over his chest slowly. “We were on the couch, just out there,” you gestured vaguely with a nod before returning to his silky skin, “a little drunk, and fucking horny.”

Sam inhaled sharply, grinning lazily. “I’d expect no less from you two.” 

Danny chuckled and massaged Sam’s hip, his fingers dangerously close to Sam’s groin causing his erection to twitch and bob in the air. 

Continuing on, you licked at Sam’s pulse point, “So I was in his lap, and he started talking to me, and fuck Sammy,” you nipped his skin with a wistful sigh, “he was saying the filthiest, most beautiful things.”

“Shit… like, like what?” Sam breathed, squirming and panting under your combined touches. You smirked, catching a glance of Danny’s bashful but pleased face beneath Sam’s jaw. 

“Thing he wanted to do to you,” you whispered, kissing his addicting neck, “things he wanted me to watch him do to you. Things he wanted us both to do to you.” 

Danny hummed in agreement, his fingertips grazing down the top of Sam’s cock from base to tip, the sensation combined with your eager mouth sending a ripple of pleasure through Sam’s lithe body. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, arching against Danny’s hand invitingly. “Tell me,” he pleaded. 

Danny took Sam’s cock in hand, and Sam rolled his head to look up at Danny, doe-eyed and needy. Danny took one look at Sam’s submissive face and groaned under his breath, stroking him slowly. 

“Yeah? You wanna know what you had me thinkin’ about?” 

Sam nodded, sucking his lip under his teeth as he blinked up at him. 

Danny’s eyes trailed down Sam’s torso, “You know… so many times, you’d be playing, and you’d just throw your hair back, and your mouth would open in that sexy little face you make when you get into it,” Sam groaned softly, nodding along to Danny’s words, on the edge of his figurative seat as Danny barely stroked him fast enough to keep him on edge. 

“God I wanted to be the one making you make those faces.” Danny’s eyes flashed up to Sam’s, several shades darker and heavily lidded. 

“Oh god,” Sam let out the shivery, whiny words with a buck of his hips into Danny’s fist.

Danny drank in Sam’s face, desperate and pleading as he hovered over him. “I wanted to see you make those faces from below. I wanted to make you make those faces, with your pretty cock down my throat,” he growled under his breath. 

You moaned, sucking Sam’s pebbled nipple into your mouth, riding the full-body wave of Sam’s writhing, the result of Danny’s filthy confession muttered over his parted lips. 

“Holy… sh-shit…” Sam choked out, brows knit tightly as he thrusted up into Danny’s fist, before crying out pathetically when Danny let him go entirely. 

“There’s more, though, pretty boy,” Danny smirked, shifting onto his knees, grabbing Sam’s jaw gently as the boy fluttered his eyes open. 

You grinned smugly, piecing together the rest in your head, and rising on all fours. Sam looked over at you before Danny’s grip on his jaw tightened, pulling his gaze back to him dominantly. You leaned down and whispered near Sam’s ear, “I love this part.” 

Sam shivered, “Fuck…”

Danny thumbed over his bottom lip, smirking. “See, she really liked the idea of something I said to her.” 

You twirled Sammy’s hair around your finger, nodding sweetly. 

“What-“ Sam swallowed roughly, “…what’s that?”

Danny leaned down, his lips brushing Sam’s as he held his jaw firmly. “She wants to watch me take a mouthful of your cock down my throat while she rides your pretty face.” 

Sam whimpered, writhing again. “Fuck.”

“And we both wanna give her what she wants, don’t we Sammy?” Danny purred, pressing a soft kiss to Sam’s pouty lips before parting with a smirk and shuffling backwards down his body. 

“Yes, fucking- anything, please, just use me, beautiful girl, it’s yours,” Sam craned up at you, grasping for your thighs. 

You caressed his cheek with a wide smile, leaning over him. “What’s mine, sweet boy?”

He whispered roughly, “My face, my cock- anything you fucking want, I wanna be yours, I wanna be good for you.” 

A rush of dizzying lust swept over you, faintly registering the sound of your own moan as you closed the distance, crashing into his lips in an upside-down kiss. 

After a short moment, Sam jolted, gasping and whining suddenly. Glancing down, you were met with Danny’s devilish smirk, his body laid out between Sam’s thighs with his tongue retracting from where he’d given the tiniest kitten lick to Sam’s leaking tip. 

“Please,” Sam urged, breathless and needy, pulling at your thighs to settle you comfortably over his face. 

“Okay, just like, tap me if you need air, okay?” you rushed out, straddling him on your knees. 

His only response was a muffled, “Mmmhh,” as he tugged your hips down, hard, planting your pussy firmly over his waiting mouth. 

You cried out, your hands cementing to Sam’s chest for stability, shifting over his mouth as his tongue curled and lapped through your folds. 

You sighed out, “Shiiiiit, Sammy, babe...” 

Danny hummed lowly, watching you find your footing atop your new throne. The sound drew your faded attention back to him, and he smirked as you met his eyes. 

“You gonna watch me like a good girl?” he lowly taunted you, quirking an eyebrow as he took Sam’s cock in his hand. Sam let out a muffled whine, sucking your clit between his lips and drawing out a harsh moan from yours. 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, wincing from the onslaught of pleasure, “C’mon baby, taste him. He’s so sweet, his cock is so nice to suck on,” you goaded, playing a little dirty to rile him up. You wanted to get Danny as desperate and feral as you felt. 

Danny pumped him in his hand, hovering his lips close to Sam’s tip, his breath no doubt warming it with each word. “Oh yeah? You’re so sweet, aren’t you, baby? Letting me share your new toy?” 

Sam groaned, long and high-pitched, the vibrations of it shooting through your core. You ground against his mouth, whining breathlessly as you struggled to keep your eyes on your boyfriend. 

Danny grinned darkly. “That’s my good girl.” 

He slowly leaned forward, taking Sam’s velvety head into his mouth, closing his lips around him and sucking gently, keeping his eyes locked on you through it all. 

Sam’s fingers sunk into your thighs, gripping you tight enough to bruise, nodding his head into your core as he moaned. “Mmmfffuuuck-“ his muffled voice sounded between your thighs. 

Danny winked at you, sinking down a little further, Sam’s cock coming out glistening with his spit as he retreated slowly. 

“Jesus Christ, Danny,” you panted, hypnotized and faint with desire. “I was fucking right, you’re so fucking pretty sucking his cock, baby.” 

Danny actually blushed, pulling off Sam with a wet pop, grinning up at you. “Thank you sweetheart,” he pumped Sam faster, pausing to lick up the underside of him in a slow, explorative move that had both you and Sam whimpering at the sight and feeling. 

Kissing Sam’s frenulum, he murmured, “You look beautiful too, riding Sammy’s face. Is he doing a good job for you? He keeping my beautiful girl happy?” 

Sam, as if to prove himself, sucked your clit between his lips again, flicking his tongue over it quickly. 

You gasped and nodded quickly your head drooping to the side as you humped over his tongue. “Mmmyeah,” you nodded, brows furrowing, “feels so fuckin’ good.”

Sam kneaded your thighs, an acknowledgement of your praise. Your nails scratched his chest lightly, feeling breathless. 

Danny smacked Sam’s outer thigh, making Sam jump and moan into you. Danny soothed his broad hand over the stinging red skin, arrogantly cooing, “Good boy, Sammy. Make her cum, and I’ll make you cum.”

You smirked lazily, matching Danny’s devilish grin as Sam muffled into you, “Oh fuck-“

With that, Danny dove back down, reacquainting himself with Sam’s cock, testing the waters and bobbing his head in a slow rhythm. 

Sam was a moaning, shuddery mess beneath you, not that you were much better, with the animalistic show your boyfriend was putting on for you and the fervent, desperate way Sam ate you out. As Danny sucked harder, faster, gaining confidence the more he unraveled the lanky bassist beneath you, you felt your stomach tightening in that familiar warmth. 

“God, fuck- don’t stop, Sammy don’t- don’t fuckin’ stop-“ You clawed at his chest, urging him with your bucking hips. 

Danny worked his tongue against the sensitive underside of Sam’s head, the sloppy noises drawing a cry of pleasure out of the boy’s chest. A groaned, slurred out call bubbled out of Sam, “Danny!” 

In his own growing desperation, Sam’s mouth slowed down, losing focus, and you whimpered in frustration, hanging your head forward as you sought more friction. 

Danny cocked an eyebrow, pulling off Sam quickly. “Hey,” he growled, “Didn’t say you could stop,” he smacked the side of Sam’s ass, gripping the flesh tight. 

Sam keened, panting and moaning as he furiously dove his face between your thighs, shaking himself back and forth as he licked and sucked at you. You jolted forward, crying out obscenities, Danny taking Sam’s throbbing cock back into the warmth of his mouth. 

You felt Sam struggling to keep focus, the jerking and trembling of his body giving him away, but he held strong, devouring you with a feverish appetite, his chin and cheeks slippery with your slick as you rode his face. 

“So close,” you squeaked, throwing your head back and slipping a hand into your hair, that knot in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Danny squeezed Sam’s base, suctioning hard around his head and lapping at his frenulum, and the resulting echoing groan vibrating through you from Sam’s mouth sent you hurtling over the tip of your peak, cumming all over Sam’s open mouth with what was surely a scream of his name. 

Through the fog, you blinked down at Danny, still bucking out the last waves of your orgasm, and you caught sight of Danny’s fingers pumping into Sam’s hole, curling up and beckoning Sam into his own high. You lifted up your hips slightly, giving the boy room to breath as he shouted Danny’s name. Danny rested Sam’s head against his tongue, leaving his mouth open as he jerked his length quickly, milking ropes of Sam’s cum across his tongue. He held eye contact with you the entire time, his stare burning and intense as his fist flew up and down Sam’s length. 

Once Sam jerked and gave one last sigh, his body loosening of all tension, you exhaled slowly and carefully dismounted his face. 

Flopping on your side, your head by Sam’s knees, you smiled, then began chuckling quietly, resting your face on Sam’s thigh and blinking lazily.

“Well fuck,” Sam stated, catching his breath with a giggle. 

Danny sat up on his knees, his hand loosely jerking and tugging at his own cock for some relief. As quickly as you’d collapsed, you felt revived and reignited by the thick, flushed erection your boyfriend had neglected. 

“What do you want, Danny?” you asked, licking your lips. 

Above you, Sam raised his head, face twisting into a dirty smirking at Danny’s cock. “Yeah, Danny, what can we do for you?” he goaded. 

Danny bit his lip, “Mmm… so many options,” he grinned crookedly, looking between you both. “I do seem to remember something from last night though, Sammy, you were promised a next time I believe,” he innocently stated, stroking himself lazily.

“A next time, huh?” Sam cocked his head coyly. 

You grinned, “Oh right, Sammy, you poor thing, you haven’t gotten to taste Danny yet.”

Sam’s eyes darkened, licking his lips. “Oh, that can be happily arranged. C’mere, big boy, lay down for me,” he patted the bed flirtatiously. 

Danny smiled wide, huffing a quiet chuckle and laying himself out beside Sam. You shifted, making yourself comfortably up by Danny’s shoulders, your thighs a makeshift pillow for your boyfriend’s curly head. Danny watched Sam descend between his thighs with bated breath. 

You toyed with his silky curls, watching smugly as Sam settled on his stomach, propping up on one elbow. He rested his free hand on Danny’s thigh, sighing to himself as he squeezed and smoothed his hand over the muscle. 

“You ever let her ride your thighs?” he inquired softly, smiling up at you both. 

You bit your lip, nodding happily as Danny smirked, “It’s like her favorite thing to do, why?”

Sam shrugged one shoulder, returning his eyes nonchalantly to his thigh. “Don’t blame her.” He suddenly leaned forward and gave a playful bite to the flesh before finishing, “It’d be my favorite thing too, I think.”

Danny smiled through a shaky inhale, “Oh yeah? You like my thighs, huh?”

Sam pinkened, nodding bashfully and running his hand up to the top of said thigh, thumbing at the V-line of Danny’s groin. “Always kinda thought so,” he confessed softly. 

Danny blushed, biting his lip shyly and forgoing a response. 

You pet your boyfriend’s hair, watching Sam brush his thumb against Danny’s length, where it lay against his belly patiently. Taking Danny’s cock in hand, his eyes fluttered up to meet Danny’s again, blushing but maintaining eye-contact as he brought his tongue up over the delicate slit. Danny shivered, chewing his lip. With a gentle sigh, Sam licked over Danny’s head, fanning his warm breath across the spit slicked skin. Danny muffled a groan in his throat, beginning to breath heavier. 

Finally, Sam glided Danny’s head past his lips, cushioning his heavy cock on his tongue as he enveloped it in his mouth. Danny’s brows shot up as his eyes closed, his head relaxing back against your thighs. You cupped his cheek lovingly, feeling like your breath was stolen at his expression of pure ecstasy as he panted, “Sam…” 

He whined, his face twisting like Sam’s mouth was the most blissful, erotic thing he’d ever felt. You were reminded of the first time Danny had taken you to bed, such a similar look on his face as he plunged himself into your warm wet walls for that very first time. As Danny’s head rolled to the side, pressing further against your palm, you gazed down at him in wonderous, lustful affection. “You’re so gorgeous, Danny,” you whispered, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. 

Sam looked up at you both, and his eyes crinkled with a smile, the best one he could muster with his lips stretched around Danny’s impressive girth. 

Danny blushed, blinking his eyes open at you, his mossy hazel irises stunningly clear and radiant even around his dilated pupils. “Baby,” he whined under his breath, reaching up and pulling your face down to kiss him. 

You obliged happily, slotting your lips with his passionately, drinking in his moans and whimpers as Sam’s mouth shot sparks of pleasure through his body. He mumbled against your lips, his tone of submissive disbelief nearly making you pass out, “Feels so fucking good…”

You nodded, sealing his lips in another kiss, “Good, sweetheart, you just relax and feel, let Sammy make you feel good.”

Danny winced in pleasure, tensing and gasping as Sam sucked harder. He nodded a little, biting his lip up at you. 

Below you, Sam pulled off him for air. Quickly jerking Danny’s length in lieu of his mouth, he panted, looking up between you with a cheeky smile. “So not bad for a first blowjob?”

You giggled, shooting him an exasperated smile and shaking your head. “Danny’s not complaining anyway, huh, babe?” Glancing down at your boyfriend, he grunted in response, bucking into Sam’s fist. 

Sam cocked a smug eyebrow and smirked. “Bet I could make it even better.” He licked at Danny’s tip.

“Fuck,” Danny grit, looking down at him in disbelief. 

Sam met his eyes and wordlessly held up two fingers, eyebrows raising in question. 

Danny’s jaw dropped, staring at Sam’s fingers for a second before swallowing harshly and meeting Sam’s gaze again. 

He licked his lips, then gave a shy nod. “Yeah, o-okay.”

Sam smiled wide, confirming, “Yeah?”

Danny nodded again, his blush spreading across his cheeks as he gave a hesitant little grin.

Sam nodded back, bringing his fingers between his lips as he stroked away with his other hand. Breaking the eye contact, he glanced down, situating his hand carefully below Danny’s balls and leaning forward to take his head between his lips again. 

Danny whimpered, and using the distraction of pleasure, Sam circled his fingers around Danny’s hole, making Danny buck his hips and gasp. You soothed a hand over your boyfriend’s chest, petting his hair. “Shhh, relax baby boy, s’gonna feel so nice,” you smiled fondly. 

Danny visibly relaxed, nodding, and Sam took the cue to circle one finger once more before pushing it inside slowly. 

Danny’s jaw dropped open, “Ohh-“ 

You watched his face in awe as Sam suckled at his tip, teasing and licking around his head while his pointer finger curled deeper into his ass. Sam held his cock up with his free hand, pulling off to whisper, “God, you’re so tight, Danny, it’s so hot,” his breathy, wonderous tone making both you and Danny shudder. 

Sam descended a little lower, pulling his finger out and pushing back in slowly, starting up a steady careful rhythm. His mouth enveloped one of Danny’s balls at the same time, gently mouthing at it as he got his footing, fingering his friend’s hole. 

Danny groaned, flexing his fingers in a tight grip on your shoulder, arm stretched above his head as he panted and writhed. He jolted suddenly, Sam’s finger massaging in just the right spot inside. “Shit- oh, fffuck-“ 

Sam licked up the seam of his ballsack, continuing the wet trail all the way up the underside of his cock, keeping his finger steadily curling and thrusting into Danny’s ass. 

Danny arched his back, sweat beading along his hairline as his brows knit tightly. He blindly reached a hand down, grasping Sam’s hair in his growing desperation. “Sammy, I-“ he gasped, “I’m getting close, can you- fuck, can you do another?” 

Sam whimpered, nodding quickly, popping off to quickly say, “Anything, Daniel.” He pulled his finger out, then began pushing a second finger alongside the first. He moaned around Danny’s thickness, causing Danny’s back to arch off the bed with a drawn out, broken moan. 

“Oh my god, oh god, oh my fucking g- OH-“ Danny panted, his hips jerking erratically, his grip on your shoulder and in Sam’s hair tightening to a white-knuckled fist, slurring out praises and swears. “Fuuuuuck, pleasepleaseplease Sammy,” he begged, a breathless sob as Sam’s fingers curled against his prostate relentlessly. 

You whimpered softly, holding his pleasure-wracked face as he spilled into Sam’s mouth, “So good, baby, fuck, you’re so so good.” 

Sam gulped, gasping for air as he released Danny’s exhausted, softening cock from his mouth. He retracted his fingers, wincing at Danny’s trembling hiss. He kissed his thigh in apology, then crawled up to lie along Danny’s side as the fucked-out man came down from his high. 

You caught Sam’s eye across from Danny, and you leaned forward, a silent request. Sam smiled happily, meeting you easily in a gentle kiss. 

As you cradled your boyfriend’s head in your lap and hummed happily into Sam’s kiss, you thought to yourself, you could get used to this. 

Something in the boys' eyes told you they felt the same way.

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

>>>Next chapter>>>

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[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Stars Collide; Star-Crossed: prologue

Summary: As the dust settles, Din can't shake the weight of an indescribable feeling. A feeling that he's done something he can never make amends for. Little does he know, fate has plans to intervene and an unknown ally is on their way to his aid.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.

next

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, is a man of few words and little emotion. His stoicism is legendary throughout the galaxy, once a shield against the harsh realities of the galaxy, now only serves to amplify the ache within his chest.

A weight on his shoulders that no amount of Beskar can protect him from, a cloak that he cannot remove.

The blinking of the control panel punctuates the stillness, but Din's attention is elsewhere, lost in a sea of self-doubt and regret. His steel resolve is shaken, and he questions the path he has chosen.

Din is engulfed by the blanket of the silence of his ship, surrounded by the hum of machinery and the faint beeping of his instruments. The silence, a constant reminder of his decision, a soothing melody that provides no comfort to his troubled soul.

He tries to push the guilt down, to ignore the haunting memories of the youngling's trusting eyes and outstretched arms, but the ache in his heart persists.

He remembers the soft cooing of the Child, the gentle touch of his tiny hands. But now, all of that is gone. He is alone, and the guilt is suffocating like a relentless predator tearing him apart.

The Child's touch, small and fragile, and wonders if he will ever feel it again. The Child's laughter, pure and joyful, and wonders if he will ever hear it again. The Child's vulnerability, and wonders if he will ever be able to protect him again.

Lost in thought, memories flooded his mind. Images of his own childhood, filled with trauma and pain, collided with the sight of the child's trusting eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Din feels something stir within him. Was it remorse? Regret? He couldn't quite say.

Din takes a deep breath, trying his best to collect his thoughts, failing to do so when his eyes fall on the silver ball from the Razor Crest’s lever.

Din's gaze lingers on the shining orb, his mind tangled in a web of uncertainty and dread. He feels the weight of what-ifs bearing down on his chest like a thousand stones, crushing him with the fear of what the remnants of the Empire could do to the child.

The tendrils of darkness seem to curl around his heart, their icy grip tightening as he envisions the fate that awaits the innocent youngling, the light within him threatened by the shadowy claws of evil

As if in a trance, Din's gloved fingers quiver as they brush against the cold metal of the control panel. The ship's steady hum dwindles into a soft whisper, fading into the background like a distant memory.

In the deafening silence, he is left with only the weight of his determination, heavy as an anchor, pulling him towards a path that will forever change his destiny.

The flicker of the forge that once burned in the armourer’s workshop now blazes in Din’s eyes with unyielding determination.

The Razor Crest is put back to rest as Din Djarin sets out to right the wrongs of his past, and to reclaim the trust that he has lost.

He knows that the road ahead will be fraught with peril, but he also knows that he cannot rest until he has set things right.

The stars overhead the parked ship bear witness to his journey, and the guilt that propels him forward, ever forward, towards a brighter tomorrow.

As the sun sets over the tranquil planet of Ossus, the sky blazes with a palette of warm hues, painting the world in a golden glow. The air is thick with a sense of peace, as if the planet itself were exhaling a long-held breath. Birds soar through the sky, their feathers catching the last rays of light, as they glide effortlessly towards their nests.

The Force flows through the air like a gentle stream, carrying with it a sense of serenity and calm. It is as if the very fabric of the universe is at peace here, allowing the Jedi to draw upon its power with ease.

As the evening settles in, the sounds of nature begin to take center stage. The rustling of leaves in the trees, the chirping of crickets, and the soft babbling of a nearby brook all weave together into a symphony of sound that fills the air.

Peace reigns supreme on Ossus, a sanctuary of serenity amidst the chaos of the galaxy. The Force flows through everything, a life-giving energy that suffuses every rock and tree, every creature that calls this world home. As the sun sets, the beauty of Ossus remains, an eternal reminder of the power and majesty of nature.

As the radiant sun descends below the horizon, casting its last golden rays across the tranquil planet of Ossus, you sit amidst the serenity and beauty of the sunset.

With eyes gently closed and back straight, your visage radiates the expression of eternal peace, enraptured by the flow of the Force that courses through you and everything around you.

Every breath of the cool, refreshing air fills you with a sense of calm and clarity, and the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds lend a harmonious melody to the symphony of nature around you.

In this moment, you are one with the universe, and the universe is one with you.

Amidst the symphony of the cosmos, enraptured in the cosmic dance, you fail to perceive the mellifluous whispers of a Force spirit, summoning you by name.

As your eyes flutter open, they meet the resplendent sunset, a symphony of colors playing out before you. Slowly turning your head, you notice the rocky ledge beside you, and there, a figure sits, watching you with a soft smile. It's the man who raised you, the one who taught you the ways of the Force, and the one who has been with you through it all.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The smile of serenity that graces your father-figure's face transforms into one of pure admiration as you turn to face him. His voice carries your name with a familiar tenderness, evoking the same warmth that used to comfort you in your youth.

“You have grown stronger, one with the force, my Starshine. Sometimes it is hard to believe you are the same whiny little girl who wouldn’t stop asking for blue milk pudding, every night.” Obi-Wan teases, voice laced with amusement, his eyes crinkling with his smile, reminiscing about the past.

You roll your eyes playfully at your mentor, “Well, I was just a child, but I’m all grown up now.”

“Indeed you have, truly, but your penchant for mischief still reminds me of a certain reckless young padawan I once knew. Why did you have to inherit your Anakin’s impetuousness?" Obi-Wan questions, faking exasperation with a gentle smile, his eyes sparkling with fondness.

“Well you always did say that I was the perfect balance of my mother and father. It was to be expected of me. Plus, I was raised by you, what does that say about you, old Ben?” Your lips curl with a playful grin, mischief dancing in their every spin.

Obi-Wan resigns with a soft shake of his head, fully aware that his skill with words cannot surpass your own. For you wield your tongue and language like a saber against your foes, yet like a gentle blade of love to your cherished ones.

As Obi-Wan's fingers graze your cheek, his eyes convey a pride that words cannot articulate. “You have become a force to be reckoned with, my dear Starshine, and it is for this reason that I entrust you with a crucial task.”

Your brows knit together, creating a tapestry of confusion on your face. Tilting your head ever so slightly, you inquire, “What task, Uncle Ben?”

Obi-Wan withdraws his hand from your cheek, his gaze piercing into yours with a solemnity that sends a shiver down your spine. "There is a youngling, Nova. A child who is strong in the Force, like you and I. He needs our help, and I believe, with all my heart, that you are the one who can fulfill this task.”

As the weight of the task settles in your chest, you lean in closer, your eyes narrowing with a fierce determination. "Speak to me, Uncle Ben. Who is this Child that needs rescuing? And who is it that seeks to bring harm to him?" you inquire, your voice carrying a sense of urgency and concern.

Obi-Wan's gaze grows distant, lost in thought. "I do not know all the details, but I know that he is being pursued by the remains of the Empire. I sense a great danger surrounding this child, and it is imperative that we act quickly."

Your heartstrings tighten, a deep ache settling in your chest at the mere thought of a youngling being in danger. Children have always been a weakness of yours that you cannot overcome to this day.

Children make you vulnerable, the sight of them melts you into the mold of maternal instincts. To hear of someone hurting younglings is horrifying to you.

The wounds your father inflicted upon the younglings of the Jedi Temple still fester in your soul, a reminder of the darkness that once consumed him.

With a resolute gaze, you turn to your mentor, the one who has always been your guiding light. "I cannot just stand by and watch the Empire lay their hand on a youngling suffer," you say, your voice firm and unwavering. "Tell me, Uncle Ben, what must I do to help this child?"

A gentle warmth spreads across Obi-Wan's features, a reflection of the pride and fondness he feels for you in his heart, as he is moved by your unwavering determination to lend a hand.

"I knew I could count on you, my Starshine," he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "The child’s current whereabouts is that of on the planet Nevarro. A bounty hunter has handed the child over to the fallen Empire. You must hurry, little one."

Your chin juts forward, a fire in your eyes that could rival the stars, “The force flows through me, Uncle Ben. I will not let the child be a victim of the Empire. Their safety is my duty, and I will see it done.”

Your unwavering spirit shines through as you pledge to see the mission through to its end. A pledge that echoes through the Force itself.

“I know you won’t fail me.” Obi-Wan utters with a gentle curve of his lips, akin to the graceful bend of a river flowing through a verdant valley.

As his smile warms your heart, you rise from your seat, the last glimmers of daylight slipping beyond the horizon, leaving the night sky adorned with a tapestry of glittering stars.

"Luke's worry for my safety knows no bounds," With a soft laugh, the words escape your lips like a playful breeze, "I must let him know of my plans and whereabouts, before departing."

Obi-Wan's eyes twinkle with mirth as he reminisces about the past, recalling the young, lanky blond boy who doted on you in a brotherly manner endlessly, oblivious to the fact that you were his youngest triplet sister.

A gentle rumble of laughter escapes Obi-Wan's lips, "Yes, Luke always did have a soft spot for you, fighting boys who mocked you like a brother would, even when he didn't know the truth about your connection."

A sense of longing tugs at your heartstrings as memories flood your mind like a torrential river. You hold onto the moment, cherishing the connection you share with your mentor, and feeling the comforting warmth of familiarity.

A gentle breeze blows, rustling the leaves of the trees, and you can almost hear the whispers of the Force echoing around you.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts and emotions, feeling the gravity of the situation at hand. You draw in a deep breath, steeling your resolve for what lies ahead. "I won't let you down, Uncle Ben," You declare with unyielding will.

Obi-Wan nods in approval, a sense of pride emanating from his being. "I have no doubt that you will succeed, my Starshine. May the Force be with you."

You smile wistfully at your mentor, your heart feeling as though it's being pulled in two. This moment between the two of you seems almost too precious to let go of. "May the Force guide us both,"

The spectral image of your beloved mentor fades before you, his voice echoing in your mind. His final words stir a deep longing within you, a desperate yearning for the comfort of his presence once more.

The wispy tendrils of his essence swirl around you, whispering a farewell that lingers long after he has vanished from sight. You stand alone, the cool breeze of the Force brushing against your skin, as you struggle to reconcile the emptiness left in his wake.

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of his absence like a heavy cloak, yet the gentle touch of his guidance still lingers in the very fabric of your being, a reminder of his fatherly love for you and your vow to protect the child at all costs.

As you open your eyes to the starry night sky, a cool breeze brushes against your skin, whispering of the adventure ahead. You take one last look at the ethereal landscape before you, shrouded in the veil of darkness.

It's a moment of serenity, a calm before the storm, and your heart swells with a deep sense of purpose. With unwavering conviction, you turn towards your ship, its metallic frame glinting in the moonlight.

A journey awaits, one that could alter the path of your fate and the destiny of the galaxy. You take a deep breath, ready to embrace the unknown, and begin your ascent towards the stars, leaving the tranquil wilderness behind.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[offical-ouroboros]

Fear's Nature - 1

CW: yandere + puppy dog dredge I guess, I am once again writing a kidnapping killer (literally all my work for killers will be that I swear), multi person/hive mind dredge, sad angst ish

~♡

You don't know how long you stayed there.

But it was long enough, it seemed.

Because you hear the bells chime.

As the realm was getting ready to collapse.

They were going to leave you.

Like they always had.

You're trapped under its gaze, arms from its shadowy body clinging and pawing at you, weakly trying to bring your sniffling form closer.

But not to consume you.

Not to add you to their collection.

Not for anything but a desperation for quiet.

You made its mind… Quiet.

All the crying, the screaming, the agony.

The way it wanted to tear itself apart, the seething rage of victims desperate for an escape that was no longer possible.

You made it stop.

They didn't know why.

But they needed it.

Briefly wasn't enough. Just for the match wasn't enough. They craved it. They craved you.

Only you.

It didn't care for the other survivors. It wouldn't chase them. Wouldn't wound them. Just wanted you.

Of course, the moment you manage to escape its grasp– If at any point anyone dared to take you away– All would change.

Their peace would be entirely erased. And all they could think about was mutilating whatever took away their dearest salvation.

They'd never hurt you- Not on purpose, no.

Physically, mentally, emotionally; Never on purpose.

But with so many thoughts, so many people… So many urges, so many simple ways they could finally feel content-

They won't deny themselves that bliss.

Many parts of them understand it's wrong. Many parts of them don't. So much of it has been warped- Woven through lies, built up by the delusions of many isolated people.

But every part of it knows having you feels good.

So wait there with it.

Let it touch you, hold you, curl every little piece of itself around you.

It'll nuzzle sweetly into your terrified form, soon breaking out of the locker with you trapped and bound up in its limbs.

It's a bit haphazard, not holding you up high but instead cradled in many limbs closer to the ground. You may get a bit of motion sickness…

But it won't let you go. You were lucky enough to already be somewhere in its realm.

So it sways you up, up, into the house.

Onto the bed.

And like an obedient dog, it lays crouched by your side.

Its arms are still coiled around you.

Its head rests just near the mattress.

Its beady eye peers to yours, an almost innocent look displaying.

It doesn't want to be bad.

It doesn't want to scare you.

It's just in their nature.