#this whole fic is magnificent

[flamdoodles]

I've barely sunken my teeth into a magnificent series of Malevolent fanfictions, "Surrogate", and it has finished breaking what the original podcast started cracking and then sealed the pieces back with gold.

Plus, Hastur is daddy (in more than one sense)

[hailsatanacab]

man i made so many memes this time wow

anyways here u go >:')

holyshitholyshitholyshit

these are all perfect!!

for chapter 4 of cetbwa

[nirikeehan]

❛ i’ve formed the habit of liking you. ❜ from F. Scott Fitzgerald prompts and 'exulansis n. the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.' from Obscure Sorrows for Thalia & Metrion

*DEEP BREATH* All right, fine.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 2232

CW: Discussion of sexual abuse/exploitation

Also major major spoilers for Metrion's storyline in Curse of Strahd: Twice Bitten if that's something anyone cares about

---

“Metrion? Are you up there?”

Some indistinct mumbling as a reply. Thalia sighs, shifting her weight at the base of the tree. The afternoon is damp —  it’s always damp, always overcast in Barovia. 

He’s stormed away after an argument. Another argument, the kind that seem to brew out of nowhere and rip the party in two, becoming more and more frequent. The origin point is always absurdly small. This one, it seemed, came from Pravin and Blackwall’s disapproval of certain methods employed to procure supplies in Vallaki. Was it that Thalia’s face was flushed with success, the thrill of some forbidden pleasure? It’s not her fault that she can play off Metrion’s silver tongue so easily, nor that the markup at the Stockyard is so absurd as to drive desperate travelers to employ underhanded means. 

Unkind words bandied about, more innuendo than outright accusation. Seniority amid the older men asserted, at which Metrion balks. (He hates authority with a burning passion, Thalia has noticed.) Crude but accurate insults levied, Hawke standing by trying to mediate — and then. 

What had Blackwall said? 

You seem to enjoy thievery a little too much, my lady. You and your boy whore. 

Words aimed to cut, and so they had. Thalia reeled as if slapped, but as she rushed to defend him, Metrion whirled on the heel of his boot and took off. 

How dare you, Thalia said. 

Blackwall spat in the dirt. Sounds an awful lot like an admission to me. 

Well, yes. That’s why it hurts, doesn’t it? Metrion, who will argue about grass being green just to get a rise out of someone he dislikes, has no words against such an accusation. A cultivated accusation, built by a number of incidents, including some off-color jokes, some nervous laughter. (When she’d leaned against him and he’d done nothing — just tolerated her, like medicine. Like someone who hasn’t properly paid for his time. Maker, what has she done?) 

She eyes the trunk of the tree. “If you think being up there will stop me, you ought to know I’m quite adept at climbing.” 

Silence. Uncharacteristic for him, usually so garrulous. The lad can probably talk his way back from falling off a cliff, Hawke observed at one point. Thalia sighs and grabs a branch, hoisting herself up. 

She finds him midway up the tree, nestled in a crook of branch and leaf, staring off at some indistinct point. She is relieved he has not seemed to have broken out the wineskin. This will be much more difficult if he’s drunk, which seems to be a nightly occurrence. Thalia settles at a safe distance, a yard or so away, arranging herself as gracefully as she can on an adjacent branch. He doesn’t look at her. 

“It’s sort of nice up here,” she observes, hoping to crack the ice. “Safe from any wandering wolves or undead, at least.”

Nothing. 

She sighs. “You’re lucky I’ve formed the habit of liking you, Metrion. You can make it difficult to be your friend sometimes.” 

“Right,” he sneers. “I’m the one who’s so bloody lucky.” 

Thalia will take venom over silence. “I came to apologize on behalf of my retinue. Blackwall was way out of line.” 

Metrion shrugs. “It’s clear what they think of me, ain’t it?”

Thalia bites her lip. Say it isn’t true, Metrion. Tell me he got it wrong. She finds it difficult to breathe. She wants to touch him and make him look at her, but doesn’t dare. “They don’t speak for me.” 

“Yeah?” He laughs, though nothing is funny — the small, brittle giggle that makes him sound so young. Younger than her, maybe. He told her once he doesn’t know his own birthday. He swallows, painfully. “Why not?” 

She flexes the hand with the anchor, its magic grown so dim and ethereal in this strange realm. If not for the gash on her hand, she’d still be locked away in the Ostwick Circle, a caged bird singing for her supper. Perhaps not so different from a street magician — someone whose livelihood depends on his performance. Her stomach twists. “At the Circle, we supposedly wanted for nothing. Everything was to be provided for us. But it never was, not really. There was never enough of anything to go around. We were fed enough, and clothed, sure, but there’s so much you’d never think would be difficult to get until someone withheld it from you. Extra quills. Parchment. Little trinkets like hair combs. Just… things a free person would never think about twice.” 

He’s turned toward her, head cocked slightly, lips pursed. He’s listening. At least there’s that. 

Thalia takes a slow breath. “There were rumors, of course. Things a mage could do… favors. For certain Templars. In exchange for special items.” Her hands are trembling. She’s never told anyone this. It has seemed impossible to voice before now. “In a storeroom, usually. Or some back corridor no one used.” She sighs. “They were always men.” 

Metrion is looking her full in the face, slack-jawed, gold eyes glittery with an unexpected fury. “And?” 

“I couldn’t do it,” Thalia confesses, chest tight. “I thought about it for awhile. Thought maybe I could handle it. Thought it wouldn’t be so bad. But I didn’t want any Templar to know who I was, for any reason. It’s dangerous to be singled out like that. In the end, I wasn’t brave enough.” 

Again, that sad, knowing laugh. Metrion averts his gaze. “It’s not bravery, love.” 

That’s confirmation enough. Thalia closes her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me? That sounds like a real shit place you were in.” He’s angry, really angry, on her behalf. 

“Metrion.” She sighs, exasperated as much as sorrowful. “I don’t mean for this to be about me. I just wanted you to know — whatever circumstances you’ve been in, I understand. And I’m not going to judge you for it.” 

Metrion mumbles, “Yeah, well, maybe you should.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Thalia demands, aghast. 

“Just that — look.” A strange statement, as he’s looking anywhere but at her. His hand is in the pocket of his oversized leather coat, drawing out the wineskin. “Your story’s very sad, gets me right in me heart. But you were in prison, yeah? Mage jail or whatever. You didn’t have much choice.” 

Thalia reaches out and slaps her palm over the lid of the wineskin before he can drink. “And you’re saying you did?”

He meets her gaze, finally. He is quite handsome, in an exotic way, with the olive skin and messy hair and unusual eyes, the elongated incisor tipped in gold. A bit too slight, perhaps, for her tastes, and she’s gotten the sense his eyes linger less on women than on men — but deserving all the same. Her stomach clenches, thinking of people who would see these qualities as a commodity. Who might get angry if he didn’t perform as promised. 

He pulls away from her grasp, scowling. “Maybe once I didn’t.” He takes a hefty swig. “But how many times do you have to keep at something before it’s sort of your own doing?” 

Thalia looks from him to the wineskin. “There’s reasons why it’s more difficult to stop some things than others.”

Metrion smirks and shakes his head. “You do what you’re good at, you know? I’ve tried other things, don’t get me wrong. We had a real go of it in the shop, you and I. But when the coin’s so easy, and the other hustles are hard…” He shrugs, drinks again. “Your fake warden’s right, is what I’m saying. Guilty as charged.” 

“All right. Okay. I don’t care, Metrion. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Thalia watches him sadly. “But you do. I’m not sure why.” 

He snorts, affecting the posh accent he saves for marks — and perhaps other sorts, she realizes, anguished. “Grand lady inquisitor and her loyal attendants: the Champion of Kirkwall, a Grey Warden, the most renowned thespian on the inner continent… and this.” He gestures to himself with a sweep of the hand.

“Metrion the Magnificent, celebrated magician and my friend,” Thalia cuts in, stubbornly. “We don’t have to tell anyone the other part, if you’d prefer.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” His voice has taken on a vicious edge. “There is no other part. I’m not that person at all. My name’s not even Metrion.”

Thalia opens her mouth and closes it again. She had assumed all along Metrion is a stage name, but that’s not what he means. “You told me,” she says slowly, “you had a magic act. You were traveling to a new city for a patronage, and then you woke up in the mists.” She swallows hard. “Is all of that a lie?”

“Metrion had a magic act.” He drinks and he drinks. “He was just a lonely old man, looking for company.”

A flash of anger hits her. “Paid company.” Thalia huffs. “Don’t make him the victim in this.”

“And if I stole from him when he was asleep? Took the money, took his cart, took his whole livelihood, so I could have a cover and get out of town? Who’s the victim then?” 

“I’d still say it’s you.” Thalia crosses her arms. “You want to talk about choices? It sounds like he had a lot of them, and you had very few. Am I wrong?”

He pauses, glancing sideways at her. “D’you always go out of your way to give excuses for shit people?” 

Thalia bites her lip to keep from smiling, in spite of herself. “I’m told it’s a weakness of mine, yes. The problem is, I don’t usually see them as shit.” 

He’s quiet for a long moment, his eyes staring, unseeing, at a far distant point. Then he looks at her and the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you curse, m’lady.” 

Relieved, Thalia laughs softly. “I think maybe you’re rubbing off on me, whoever you are.” 

“Morninglord forbid.” He joins her in a hesitant chuckle. “’S what they’re scared of, innit? At the end of the day. That my wanton ways will sully you by association. High class fucks always think like that, but they’re often real quick to sneak in the back and pay extra for your silence.” 

“I think you’re right,” Thalia says. She leans back against the trunk of the tree and thinks of Blackwall’s smug face, and the way Pravin had sided with him for once. “And they’re jealous,” she realizes. “I’ve relied on them both for so much for so long. That I could have a friend like you… I think it threatens them.” 

“Sure it does.” He smirks. “We could have a whole con act going if we wanted. You’re not bad, you know.”

“Neither are you.” Thalia ponders that for a bit. “It might be easier if I was the one who offered you a job, though.” 

He cocks an eyebrow. “I’m usually more of an independent contractor, if you catch my meaning.”

“Not that sort of job,” Thalia cries, a little flustered. “I’m just saying. Your skillset would fit what my spymaster is looking for.” Leliana would be impressed, of that she has no doubt — if she could keep Pravin from going apoplectic. “And you wouldn’t have to do— any of that other stuff anymore. If you didn’t want to.” 

“You want to hire me as a spy?” 

“Why not?” Thalia asks. “I think you’d like Skyhold. There’s a well-stocked tavern there, for starters.”

“All right, now you’ve got my attention.” He straightens, taking a deliberate sip from the wineskin. “One problem, though. We’re in here and your Inquisition is out there.” 

“Yeah. Minor obstacle,” Thalia concedes. “It’s nice to think about, though. It’s really beautiful there. When you’re on the battlements and the afternoon sun hits the keep from above the mountains, you can see for miles.” 

“Heh, yeah. Never thought I’d miss the sun so much.” The man who isn’t Metrion sighs, stowing the wineskin back into a coat pocket. “I’ll think about it, I guess. Assuming we don’t die here. Or your retinue pulverizes me at the suggestion.” 

“I don’t think they need to know about it yet.” Thalia smirks. “Can I ask one thing, though?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs noncommittally.

Thalia clicks her tongue at his cheekiness. “If your name isn’t Metrion, is there something else I should be calling you?” 

He goes quite still. “My given name ain’t very flattering. I don’t really like it. Other names have come and gone; I’m not much attached to those neither.” He shrugs. “Metrion’s fine for now.”

“Well, if you think of something better, let me know.” She smiles tentatively. 

“You’ll be the first, love.” He leans his head against the tree trunk, closing his eyes. 

 Thalia chews the inside of her cheek. “I can leave you alone now, if you’d like.” She has to face the others, sometime. 

“You can stay,” he mumbles, and for a second she’s not sure she’s heard right, until he peeks at her from behind the trunk between them. “If you want.” 

A bit of warmth spreads across her chest, a welcome respite from all this damp chill. “All right.” 

She settles into the crook where the branch meets the tree. They sit there for some time, in silence. 

[minetteskvareninova]

AU: Nigar Finds Her Daughter

For @faintingheroine - and everyone else that wishes for our best girl to have at least somewhat happy ending.

They said Gördes has many ruins – a wonder for the goatherders tending to their flocks in the mountains around the city, but a rather obvious fact for someone as educated as Nigar, considering the city was an ancient one. Nonetheless, it was one thing to silently laugh at these remarks from the poor seamen manning the ship she was traveling on, and quite another not to be impressed by the countless remnants of an era Nigar has so far only read about. Istanbul, while ancient, still wasn’t that old. And she needed to do some sightseeing first, because that seemed to be the best way to calm her nerves. After all, she couldn’t allow her daughter to see her as a nervous wreck.   Nigar’s Greek was a little dusty since she left sultan’s harem (after all, most Greeks of Istanbul spoke Turkish just fine, and there were little to none far east in Diyarbekir), but she could manage. She got the directions to Nicolaos efendi’s house from a girl she found by the local well. He actually lived fairly close to the port, since as the girl said, he was a tradesman, who transported the goods from the port to the towns and villages all around the province. The girl also said Nigar got very lucky, since this was one of the few times the man was home. With a heart threatening to jump out of her chest, Nigar turned to Nicolaos‘ house and silently prayed like she has never prayed before. It seemed a miracle was about to happen.   The door to Nicolaos‘ house was opened by a very thin woman in white dress with colourful embroidery, so typical of the women from the area. „Good evening. Is Nicolaos efendi home?“ she asked. Woman raised her eyebrows. „Who are you?“ „That’s hard to... Eh... Explain. His brother. He knows me.“ „My husband has no brother.“ „Ah, just... Tell Nicolaos efendi Nigar hanim is here. He’ll know.“ With a suspicious look on his face, the women returned to the house. When she came back, she seemed even less friendly than before. „He doesn’t know any Nigar hanim.“ Nigar had to try very hard to compose herself. „He forgot me. Maybe. I’m Esmanur’s mother.“ „Who is Esmanur?!“ „A girl lives with you. Your husband takes care of her...“ Nigar thanked God for his mercy, as the woman finally seemed to have understood. „How old is that Esmanur of yours, exactly?“ „About seven years old.“ „Ah! That would be our Theodora. Anyway, wait a minute, please.“ And with that, she left, but the door stayed open.   Soon, Nicolaos efendi appeared in the door. Nigar had to try very hard to compose herself; the man was truly the spitting image of his brother, just as Matrakçi told her. „Good evening.“ she said in Turkish, voice still shaking. „My name is Nigar, and I used to... Know your brother. I was told my daughter lives with you, is that true?“ Luckily, the man was fluent. „Well... Probably. If you are who I think you are, that is. Either way, come in. We can talk this over coffee.“   It was a modest house for a tradesman, with bare white walls and simple, barely decorated wooden furniture. Still, Nicolaos‘ family did have a servant girl (even if it was probably just the one), so they had to live at least somewhat comfortably. In the hallway, Nigar saw two boys playing hide-and-seek, one still a toddler, the other one barely older. „My sons.“ said Nicolaos, while leading her to the kitchen. Nigar smiled. „They’re adorable. Do you have any other children?“ „No, not really. A daughter of my relatives lives with us, since she has no other family – poor child. So she’s yours, you say?“ He suddenly hushed his voice. „Does that mean, that you are... You know... That woman Theo told me he loved?“ „Theo is what he was called before they took him?“ asked Nigar equally silently. Nicolaos led her to a room, where he sat her at a small, shabby table. „Yes. My... My brother.“ She heard his voice shake a little.   Nicolaos‘ servant girl came almost immediately, and Nicolaos ordered her to make coffee. Then he turned to Nigar. „I’ve always wondered what you looked like. What kind of woman could make my brother turn his back on a sultana, even if it was just for a time?“ „Are you dissapointed, efendi?“ asked Nigar mockingly. „Truth be told, I don’t want to talk much about pasha – may Allah have mercy on his soul. He won’t come back from the grave, but me and my daughter are still here, though without her I might as well have been dead all those years we have been separated...“ „Why didn’t you seek her out sooner, then?“ „Efendi, believe me when I say that if I could, I would’ve, but I was forbidden from doing so by circumstance and people far more powerful than you can even imagine.“ Nicolaos didn’t answer right away, instead he spent about half a minute thinking. „Alright, then. I guess there’s no reason to keep her away from you. If you could wait here, just a second...“ He went out only for a moment, before she heard a loud „Theodora!“, the sound of a running child, and some Greek that she didn’t completely understand. Her hands started shaking and her sight went blurry with tears. It’s been so long... They probably won’t recognize each other. She made her peace with that on her way there, although it still made her feel like her throat was refusing to work.   But when she walked in there, alive and so, so beautiful, Nigar couldn’t help herself. She immediately ran to her and took her in her arms, before Esmanur could do anything. Startled girl fidgeted in her arms, and when Nigar tried to kiss her cheeks, she flinched. „Uncle, is that her?“ she asked in Greek. „My mum?“ „Yes, dear.“ Esmanur looked at her in disbelief, and Nigar’s heart broke. „Really?“ „Yes! Sweetie, it’s me, your mother, and...“ Nicolaos gently cut her away. „She can’t speak Turkish.“ Nigar looked back at her daughter, now with the same shock and disbelief Esmanur had on her face. Esmahan seemed disappointed. „My mum is a Turk?“ „Yes... No... Ah, it’s complicated.“ said Nigar, still shaken. „I am from Istanbul, everyone there speaks Turkish.“ „Because aunt Eirene doesn’t like Turks. She always says they are greedy, vain and whatnot.“ „Aunt Eirene says a lot of things.“ interjected Nicolaos. „Especially when someone makes her angry. But she doesn’t always mean that, does she?“ Nigar, meanwhile, awkwardly put the girl down. She thought she braced herself for this kind of response, and worse, but it was quite another thing to have at least some of her fears to come true. „So... They call you Theodora, I’m told?“ she said, swallowing the urge to cry. „We never expected Thea’s mother to come back for her. Nasuh efendi didn’t tell us much, besides the fact that your husband wouldn’t allow the girl to live with you. I just... Assumed I might have to take care of her permanently.“ said Nicolaos defensively, almost offended. Nigar couldn’t hold back tears anymore. „Per... Perhaps you’re right. I didn’t know if I’d ever see again either, back then.“ Esmanur was confused. „What are you talking about? You know I can’t speak Turkish, right? Mum, why are you crying?“ She bent towards the little girl again. „Because I love you. And I missed you.“ Her poor Greek really wasn’t sufficient to explain all of the other emotions she felt, but a seven-year old probably didn’t need an explanation more elaborate than that anyway.   After a moment of silence, the maidservant appeared with the coffee. Nicolaos efendi shot a pointed look towards her. „So? What now?“ Nigar’s voice was hushed. „Can I get a moment alone with her, before we get to discuss any... Plans for the future?“ Nicolaos‘ face suddenly gained a cheeky expression. „Well, I do have a couple of truly splendid mules in my stables. Thea, sweetie, would you be so kind and show them to Nigar hanim?“

Unsurprisigly, the girl wasn’t too enthusiastic about the animals, but then, Nigar wasn’t either. They only stayed there for a short while, before Nicolaos efendi sent a maidservant with the message that the coffee is getting cooler by the minute – but Nigar was thankful for every second. She was relieved to learn that Esmahan’s guardians took good care of her. Nicolaos was truly like a father to her, and although Esmahan wasn’t as close to Eirene, his wife, she didn’t experience any unkindness from her, either. The girl herself was a cheerful, somewhat mischievious child, obviously thriving under the care of her uncle and aunt. Nigar’s joy was, however, tampered by the knowledge that this goes directly against her plans for the future.   When she returned to Nicolaos efendi and his coffee, he sent the girl away. „Did you come all the way just to see your daughter?“ he asked. Here it comes... „No, of course not. I do plan on taking her home.“ „She is home, Nigar hanim.“ He sounded so impatient... „I suppose that depends on your definition of home, but either way, I am her mother, and it’s only right that she should live with me.“ Nicolaos raised his eyebrows. „Are you sure about that, Nigar hanim? After all, I am her family too, and she barely knows you. Besides, it is hard for a woman to be alone in this world – let alone with a child that depends on her.“ „Rüstem pasha will take care of me, as it is the custom for former husbands and wives.“ said Nigar in a raised voice. „And as for her not knowing me – well, that is none of my fault, efendi! We’ve been separated by fortune, and fortune is now bringing us together. Please, don’t stand in its way.“ Nicolaos glowered at her. „You want what is best for Thea, don’t you?“ „How can I not? She is my child; of course I would never...“ „Then how do you not see what you are doing to her?! We are the only family she ever knew, Nigar hanim! You are going to break her heart...“ „And what of my heart, efendi?! Do you think I am not going to love her, do you think I won’t be a family to her?! She’s still young, she still has time to get used to me and the life in Istanbul! Besides, it’s not just mother’s love that compells me, but duty.“ She didn’t want to pull out this one. She didn’t want to play dirty. But threatened with losing her daughter once again, she got desperate, and the words just poured from her like blood from a cut vein. „You named her Theodora, is that true? Why didn’t you let her keep the name her father gave her?“ „It was safer.“ said Nicolaos with obvious uneasiness. „We didn’t want her to keep any reminders of her father, since Nasuh efendi warned us about his enemies and the possibility they might find her...“ „Is that the whole truth, efendi? Were there no other reason whatsoever?“ „Well, this town is also mostly Greek, and we wanted her to feel like part of the community.“ „Ah! She must’ve felt especially welcome after you had her baptised, as Nasuh efendi told me.“ Nicolaos‘ face went pale. „As I’ve said... We only wanted her to feel welcome.“ Nigar’s resolve only wavered for a second, before she went for the throat. „Is that so? Well, Şahhuban Sultan will surely understand.“ „What does she have to do with this?!“ „I am her... Well, it would probably be a little presumptuous to call myself her friend, but a client, certainly. Either way, she would never allow for the child of late great Ibrahim pasha to grow up as an infidel, and I am not keen on this prospect either.“ Nicolaos‘ horrified expression gave a rather strong blow to her resolve, but then she thought about the alternative. There was no way for both of them to walk out of this conversation satisfied. It was him or her, and when faced with every other such dilema, she never hesitated to pick herself. „Eirene was right.“ he said, voice shaking with a mix of shock and anger. „Damn you Turks. Damn you all. And I don’t care what you say – you are a Turk, just like the lot of them. You are a Turk, just like our boys become them, when they are taken from us, then taught your godforsaken language and religion, and come back with swords and pistols and bloody hands...“ „That was quite enough, efendi.“ Nigar said, raising her voice once again. She then drank her coffee in one gulp. „Now, would you be so kind as to call Esmanur back?“

Esmanur’s reaction to learning she has to leave her home forever almost made Nigar go back on everything she promised herself. She could not stand to see her beloved child cry, or plead with her father, or curl up to a ball under her bed, from which her sobs echoed throughout the house for several heartbreaking hours. But then, Nigar had thought of everything. She knew the girl wouldn’t take it well, she even had this entire plan about how to soften the blow of her daughter losing everything and everyone she ever knew... She should probably do the smart thing and put it in practice. After all, she couldn’t just leave without Esmanur. „The girl obviously isn’t ready to leave.“ she said to Nicolaos efendi. „But I do have some money. I can stay for a few days, untill Esmanur... Adjusts to the situation.“ „You are a fool if you think a few days would be enough...“ „I don’t need her to be happy with it, that is certainly impossible. But maybe I can make her understand, even like me a little...“   Nigar was a master on making lost young girls accept their unfortunate fate and new home. For years, it was one of the most important aspects of her job. And while she has never been so emotionally invested in them (besides the fact that most of them were teenagers rather than little kids), she would be lying if she said there was never any pity or sympathy on her part before. After all, she knew very well what it’s like to be in their place.   First, on her visit in the morning next day, she acted uncertain in front of the girl, giving her a faint hope – though she never promised anything – that maybe she didn’t need to leave if she really, really didn’t want to... Instead, Nigar asked Nicolaos efendi for her daughter to be excused from all chores for her entire stay, and took the girl for a walk around the time, asking her to point out the notable spots in town – the church, the inn, the wells, the like. When the girl wistfully noted she never had the opportunity to see the fortress of Acrocorinth in the hills around town from up close, since Nicolaos and Eirene never had the time or interest, Nigar made a spur-of-the-moment decision to make her dream come true. It was quite a long trip – about two hours just to get there – and at times she had to carry Esmanur on her shoulders, but as Nigar expected, it improved their relationship greatly. She let the girl talk her ears off with her little child complaints and observations, enjoying every little detail she learned about her. To her delight, Esmanur gradually perked up, and when they finally reached Acrocorith, she was downright extatic, wondering at the sheer size of the fortress. Nigar herself wasn’t this happy for years. Once they came back to town, they stopped at the inn where Nigar was staying, because she wanted to give the girl a gift she bought her in Istanbul – a cloth doll in little pink dress. Esmanur did own some toys, a small wooden wagon and a crudely made figure of a coachman, also made out of wood – but no actual dolls. That’s why Nigar’s gift made the girl so happy she, for the first time in her life, hugged her mother.   The next day, they had a lunch together at the inn, and then went to the beach, where Nigar watched Esmanur play with local children and answered all of her questions as best as she could. She told her she and her father were very much in love, but her father already had a wife, so when Nigar got pregnant, he found her a husband, so that he could be Esmanur’s father instead. But her new husband was a treacherous, evil man. He conspired with the enemies of Esmanur’s father in order to get Esmanur’s father killed, so he can have his power and riches – by the way, Esmanur’s father was rich and powerful... Either way, Esmanur’s father died tragically, and since she couldn’t live with this evil man, she was sent to live with her uncle, given a new name and hidden from her father’s powerful enemies. To a seven-year old, even this overly simplified version of events was quite a lot to process, but it seemed she didn’t regard it as anything more than an exciting tale and, thankfully, an adequate explanation for her mother’s absence. The question of name and religion turned out to be a bit harder – although Nigar told Esmanur her father was a muslim, and wanted her to be raised as such, in the five years without him, the girl naturally grew much more attached to Jesus than her dead father (which frankly was more of a testament to her disinterest in Ibrahim than to her interest in religion). In the end, Nigar was at least able to make her daughter accept the name Esmanur, but had to outright lie to her regarding her religion, promising her to not force islam on her. And maybe it wasn’t a lie at all; Nigar had no intention of forcing anything on her daughter, she would simply raise her into a muslim, as naturally as a tadpole grows into a frog.   The third day was the hardest; the day after that, Nigar planned on leaving, and she had to dash the hope she fostered in Esmanur. „It should be you who tells her we are going home.“ she told Nicolaos efendi. „You are almost a father to her; she will listen to you far more easily than to me.“ Nicolaos, however, didn’t take it very well. „You force me to give her up, and now you want me to explaint it to her?! No. If anything, that’s your duty, not mine. You go and face her tears – after all, you are the one who caused them, not me.“   Late in the morning, Nigar found Esmanur by the well, playing with the neighbourhood children. She stood by the well and called her daughter to her side, nervously squeezing the hem of her cloak. „Yes, mum?“ said Esmanur, eyes bright and curious. „Sweetie, there is something I must tell you.“ She dropped to Esmanur‘s level, gazing into her eyes intensely. „We had fun together, hadn’t we?“ Esmanur excitedly nodded her head. „Do you think I can be your mother now? Not just for now, but forever?“ „But... You are my mum...“ „What kind of mother would I be, if I just left you here and never came back?“ „You can’t come back?“ „Once I leave? No, sadly, that’s not possible. Istanbul is too far away, and I don’t have the money to visit you often.“ „But... I don’t want to go to Istanbul! Why do I have to leave aunt and uncle? Muuum...“ Esmanur was on the verge of tears. Nigar took her in her arms. „Esmanur, my beautiful daughter, don’t cry! I am sorry I wasn’t there for you for all these years, but now I am going to make it up to you! And one day, I promise, if you behave yourself, your uncle will come to you...“ Esmanur blinked sharply. „You... You promise?“ „Yes...“ After a short, pause, Esmanur petulantly said. „I still don’t want to go to Istanbul!“ „You can’t stay here! Your uncle wants you to be with your mother too!“ This obviously hurt the girl. „Uncle Nicolaos doesn’t want me anymore?!“ „No! Of course he would be glad if you could stay with him, but you can’t! He knows you’ll be better off living with your mother.“ „But why?!“ „Because she loves you more than anyone ever could.“ After a minute of awkward silence, Esmanur seemed somewhat sheepish. „I don’t love you.“ „Look, I understand that. You can’t remember how I sang you to sleep, how I nursed you when you were sick, how I bought you treats and would do, anything, everything for you... You were just too small when they tore you away from me. But... We can still go back. I will teach you to read and write. I will show you the greatest city on Earth, and let you meet princes and princesses. And I will love you, I will love you so much, like noone ever could... That I promise you.“ Intentionally tearing her own heart apart, she reminded herself of the moments they spent together when Esmanur was little, of all the of the times her daughter was forcibly taken from her, and of a life she would lead if she left this place without her little girl. And at this most opportune of times, she started to cry. Esmanur hugged her, moved by both her tears and words, and whispered in her ear. „Mommy... Mommy, don’t cry... I’ll go to Istanbul with you...“ Nigar gently took her head in her hands and kissed her forehead. She then wrapped her arms around her and stayed that way for a while, untill she was able to stop crying and take the girl back to Nicolaos efendi’s house.

 Nonetheless, when the time came to say goodbye to the people that loved and raised her so far, Esmanur was unable to stop crying. At the very least, she didn’t protest anymore, instead clinging to her mother for dear life as she carried her to a boat heading for Istanbul. On board, she was clearly miserable, and she even asked Nigar once whether they can’t go back. But it was too late. Despite all of her guilt, not even Nigar herself could return her to Nicolaos efendi. It was probably for the best, too, because she has never seen a child this unhappy in her entire life, and if she had the slightest option to go back on her word, she undoubtedly would.   After securing a room in an inn, Nigar’s first order of business was to visit Şah Sultan – the last person she could rely on with the exception of Nasuh Efendi, and perhaps some old friends from the palace she couldn’t find these days anyway. A lot of palace women had quite a bit to thank her to – and some of them would surely remember to be thankful, if she was ever fortunate enough to meet them again (however unlikely that was). She fostered some close friendships in Diyarbekir, too, although that was naturally far away and the last thing she wanted was to drag her child into such a remote province – besides, such a long way would probably cost her the rest of her remaining money. So calculating, she went before Şah Sultan holding her daughter’s hand.   Şah seemed surprised, but not delighted or displeased by this surprise. „Nigar! I haven’t expected you to come back so soon. And... Is this Ibrahim pasha’s daughter?“ „Yes, your majesty. Her name is Esmanur.“ She gave the girl a pointed look, at which she made a clumsy bow. This made Şah smile with delight. „What a beautiful girl! Indeed, she looks just like her mother. How old is she?“ „Five, milady.“ Şah sighed. „She was born the very year my mother, the great Ayşe Hafsa died. That year brought us such misfortune... Hopefully, Allah hadn’t let us suffer trough all of that in vain, and your daughter will bring us at least some joy. I assume you were going ask me to help you and Esmanur, correct?“ „Yes, milady. You know I would not bother you with such things if I had any other option, but sadly, there isn’t much I can do on my own.“ „Why did you put the burden of taking care of this girl on your shoulders, if you yourself had nowhere to go? Where did she live so far, anyway?“ „Majesty, it is true that in some ways, my daughter was well taken care of, but you must know I had thought about her wellbeing as well as mine when I took her from her foster parents. You see, they had her baptised, and raised as a christian.“ Şah pursed her lips together. „Well, I suppose it is indeed better that she lives with you, then. Do you or your daughter need anything?“ „No, milady, we get by for now. Me and my daughter came merely to visit, so you majesty knows we are in Istanbul, and if my services or company were needed, you would be able to call upon me.“ Şah suddenly took a wistful gaze upon the little girl. „Esmanur, my child. Was your journey long?“ Esmanur turned a confused look towards her mother. „She grew up in a Greek town, she hasn’t learn Turkish yet.“ explained Nigar. „Hopefully, her mother will teach her.“ noted Şah bitterly. „Do you have anyone in the city, someone who could help me contact you?“ „Matrakçi Nasuh efendi, milady. I plan to pay him a visit after we part.“ Şah nodded with her typical satisfied smile. „Alright, then. I must thank you for bringing a semblance of good news to this palace. Celebrations of that unfortunate wedding are upon us, starting tomorrow – have you heard?“ „People on the street can talk of nothing else. May it be a consolation to you that some are just as displeased with the news as you.“ „People on the street don’t appoint pashas, so it is in fact no consolation to me, Nigar hatun. Especially since Rüstem was named into divan recently.“ „I have heard of that as well, and it hardly surprises me. If our padişah was willing to marry his only daughter to him, he must favor him... For whatever reason.“ She made sure her last word contained just the right hint of disapproval that was noticeable, but couldn’t be perceived as disrespectful. This made Şah smile. „Indeed. For whatever reason.“ Her attention then shifted back to the girl, and she suddenly seemed somewhat dissappointed. „She looks just like you.“ „I too wished there was more of late Ibrahim pasha in her, but alas. Hopefully Huricihan and Osman resemble their father, at least.“ „Sadly, they didn’t have much luck in that department, either.“ She suddenly saw Esmanur fidgeting. „What is going on, child?“ She turned back to Nigar. „Could you ask her?“ „I think she has simply been standing for too long. Perhaps it is a sign that we should go...“ Şah hesitated only for a moment, before she told her with a smile. „Don’t worry, she can sit here.“ She pointed to the end of the left arm of the divan, relatively close to where she was sitting at the moment, but not to the point of insubordination. „And you... You tell me more about your daughter, Nigar hatun.“

[oranjmesh]

.

[fraugwinska]

A very incomplete list of Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction Authors/Geniuses

I cannot believe the awsome, talented, absolute magnificent people I've met through this fandom. Writing FF for Hazbin Hotel has become one of my greatest joys in life, and reading the stories and creations of my fellow friends and idols is something that can brighten my whole week - and we don't gatekeep. So, if you're in search for a good read, here are a few of the SUPER AWSOME people I stalk (and I want to stress - this list is never going to be complete, but I'll try to edit it as there are just SO MANY GODDANG MASTERS out there!) @bapple117 If you love #RadioStatic, you have to read 'Bluest Monday' (completed) and the follow-up 'Say Hello, Wave Goodbye' (WIP) She'll break your heart in the most beautiful way. If you don't fancy that but Alastor is your go-to, then you will want to dive in head-first into "If You Can't Say Somethin' Nice, Don't Say Nothin' At All" (complete). But as before, be ready for a rollercoaster of emotional moments and extremely spicy shenanigans.

@hazelfoureyes Goddess of the smut, Hottest writer in Hell - If you're horny, Hazel has got you covered. Especially her 'The safeword is Radioapple'-Mini-series will make you sweat like a Zumba-Instructor on crack. Be prepared to blush, tremble, die and immediately ressurrect, because yes. She is THAT good.

Clover/corruptedteacups on AO3 With whooping 75 chapters and 300k+ hits, her Fanfic 'The Red means I Love you' is one of the best, most detailed slow-burn-pining-angsty-smutty-will-they-wont-they Masterpieces I've read so far. Alastor is magnificent and I guarantee you'll fall in love with Clover, the bunny who captures the heart of you deerest red demon.

@melodyonthewireless Highly underappreciated (imho), her fic "A Match made in Hell" (WIP) follows her OC Sybil down to hell, into the Hazbin Hotel and consecutively the arms of Alastor - but don't you dare underestimate the pink, harmless looking doe. Sybil's witch powers and her sassy, witty personality is quite the match to the established readio overlord. It's such a read, and the wait between chapters the sweetest agony!

@macabr3-barbi3 She delivers every. single. TIME. Her Short stories and One-Shots are like Pringles - Once you pop, you can't stop. I'm deeply in love with 'Dream a little Dream' (WIP), 'Nothing I can't Handle' (WIP) makes me run for a cold shower and did I mention the countless one-shot-candies that make you mouth water and your toes curl?

@slutforalastor/InconspicuousBosch on AO3 Whether it's the One-Shots on tumblr (omg the PRIEST ALASTOR BIT *fans face*) or the incredible Choose-your-Path-Fic "Say it with a smile" (completed) - you will be both amazed at the artistry of the wording and storybuilding and blushing at the sheer craft of the smut and sexual tension.

@impale-me-radio-daddy Founder of the kink #antlerplay, his series of 'The Lookalike' is steamy, outrageous, utterly magnificent and filthy down to the bones. Be prepared for some serious questioning of your own preferences, because you WILL get some epiphanies. And that's a PROMISE.

@hurthermore Listen. LISTEN. Bimbo is the mini-series that had me on a friggin CHOKEHOLD. It takes a special talent to make one so invested in THE radio demon, gentleman a la carte Alastor believably pining after and pounding a lovable, dumb airhead sinner with a fable for skimpy dresses and leave you at the end wanting for seconds and thirds!

As I said, this is a highly incomplete list, and I'll absolutely edit this list as I go. But I needed to put this out in the world. To all of the above, and all of those which I didn't include YET but most certainly will -

I ADORE YOU, I PRAY AT YOUR FEET, YOU ARE AMAZING BEINGS AND I LOVE YOU.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[happyhauntt]

— march fic recs, brought to you by happyhauntt.

a wee fic rec post for a few of the fics i read in march that altered my brain chemistry!! i've put a lil comment next to each rec because honestly writers don't get praised enough for their work these days and i wanted to show my appreciation for these talented souls!!

grishaverse.

➡ kaz brekker.

what do you want from me by @rubysunnday. notes: literally perfect wtf.

dark days by rubysunnday. notes: i reread this literally constantly, it is so perfect, kaz's characterisation is perfect, i adore it.

bloody hands by rubysunnday. notes: i devoured this whole thing like a starving person it was sO good.

when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds. notes: this is so beautiful honestly i have no words.

the lost princess by @ellewritesalright. notes: look it's only part one but elle is a fucking wizard and i'm a sucker for an anastasia au.

you and me (a whole lot of history) by @heliads. notes: this was so cute and such a clever concept i fell in love!!!

schat by @amourology. notes: fully choked this is so adorable.

soulmate by @magpiencrow. notes: KAZ BREKKER SOULMATE AU didn't know i needed this but now i need 100 more!!!!

➡ nikolai lantsov.

nine long years series by @ellewritesalright. notes: i am actively fucking screaming over this fic. i will never stop. this might genuinely be the best thing i've read in a LONG while. everything about it has me sobbing i actively CANNOT COPE. and it's not even finished yet.

one of us by @songofpatrochilless. notes: literally had me sobbing you don't understand the domesticity of it all!!!!!.

come on back to me by @atlabeth. notes: there is a very strong chance that i'll literally never stop screaming about this fic.

dreams of you by @wh0refornikolailantsov. notes: every cell in my body is SCREAMING.

this love by @lantsovsupremacist. notes: did not, in fact, give you permission to hurt me like this do it again.

salt in the wound by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: brain goes brrrr this has everything i need to survive tbh.

wanting was enough by @rubysunnday. notes: beautiful stunning magnificent i want to eat it.

an exhausted smile by @writing-havoc. notes: think i had an aneurysm reading this it was that amazing.

run away with me by @sumsebien. notes: i am still sobbing over this.

in emerald hearts, emerald minds by @undiscovered-horizon. notes: love love love love love. there aren't enough words in any language to describe how much i love this.

➡ alina starkov.

alina starkov x reader by @heliads. notes: alina does not get nearly enough love and this was so fucking sad and cute and brilliant.

➡ nina zenik.

the ten steps to 'i love you' by @sophierequests. notes: this was SO HEARTWARMING AND SWEET i adored it!!!

➡ zoya nazyalensky.

forget-me-nots by @syllvane. notes: not enough zoya fics on this hellsite. but also this ripped my heart out and made me sob so RUDE. i feel devastated.

➡ inej ghafa.

inej ghafa x reader by @heliads. notes: INEJ MY SWEET BABY, this fic is everything to me. everything. and it's so beautifully written!!!

➡ the darkling.

the dark side of the moon series by @myhairpintrigger. notes: this fic is ASTOUNDING. i haven’t cried this much reading something in a long time. i was FULL-BODY SOBBING. i don’t even like the darkling. i am Not a darkling girlie. but i was intrigued by concept of this fic and i can safely say it has ruined my life. this is Emotional Damage Incarnate. i will never recover. author, i salute you.

911.

through the smoke by @borntobewondering. notes: spent twenty whole minutes sobbing after reading this. i felt undone i felt hollow i felt so utterly fucked. author is a genius and that's all there is to say.

not so one night stand by @shmaptainwrites. notes: this was so fuckin adorable i'm in love.

d.c. to l.a. by shmaptainwrites. notes: bobby my guy just doesn't get enough fucking credit and this is so fucking adorable.

criminal minds.

➡ spencer reid.

trouble almost all my life by @januaryembrs. notes: this series is. it's literally. everything. i love bugsy like she's my own child. sister relationships are everything to me. i spent an hour sobbing in my bed over parts 2 and 3. i want this tattooed on my forehead.

➡ aaron hotchner.

found by @benedictscanvas. notes: DADDY i mean what. all jokes aside this was so sweet and beautiful and i'm in love the writing!!!

doctor who.

rage rage (against the dying of the light) by @morganas-pendragons. notes: felt feral after reading this. kayla just gets me in my feels every time.

heartbeat by morganas-pendragons. notes: this was the most emotional devastating thing i've ever read and i fully needed 3-5 business days to recover. rude. i want 100 more.

untitled by morganas-pendragons. notes: PAIN i love this so much.

ache by morganas-pendragons. notes: just scoop my heart out of my fucking chest i don't want it anymore after reading this.

a mind full of blissful terrors by @magiccath. notes: simply fucking amazing.

light in the dark by @i-imagine-my-doctor. notes: screaming please i adore this so much.

baby talk by @kisstherainwriting. notes: THE ABSOLUTE CUTIEST EVER. there's not enough clara fics and this had me squealing and feeling all warm and fuzzy!!!

holding my hand by kisstherainwriting. notes: angst galore this was STUNNING.

in another's eyes by @cas-kingdom. notes: PERFECTION.

where do we go now series by @theetherealbloom. notes: literally so fucking amazing i don't have enough words.

marauders.

the winner takes it all by @ellecdc. notes: brb faye is having a STROKE--

come back, be here series by ellecdc. notes: i think i had a full on stroke while reading this series. the attention to detail is insane. the characterisation is perfect.

i don't know you anymore (maybe i never really did) by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels. notes: SCREECHING i'm in love you don't understand.

bridgerton.

➡ anthony bridgerton.

distractions by @peterpparkrr. notes: simply immaculate.

right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch. notes: did you mean one of my favourite tropes bc this is it.

right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & @thirteenisles. notes: i felt feral after reading this tbh.

➡ sibling!reader.

reluctant caretaker by @rubysunnday. notes: this fic hit my heart in all the right places okay sibling stuff means everything to me.

did she have a cookie by rubysunnday. notes: a joyous read from start to finish i CACKLED the whole way through.

moon knight.

come back to me by @mgparker. notes: still sobbing. immaculate.

the other sarcophagus by @starryevermore. notes: i literally reread this constantly i adore it so much!!

marc spector x reader by @softlyspector. notes: i had an aneurysm reading this and i haven't been the same since.

more marc spector x reader by softlyspector. notes: i am having an intense emotion hold on. anytime i see autistic stuff in canon content for any fandom i SQUEAK. and this is so well done honestly.

star wars.

heartless by @youvebeenlivingfictional. notes: i reread this constantly, it's so amazing and heartwrenching and beautiful and i want to eat it.

little talks by @light-yaers. notes: you simply do not understand how much i adore everything beff writes. i adore this fic more than i need oxygen to breathe.

right where you left me series by light-yaers. notes: personality-defining series. i LIVE for this fic. every update adds five years to my lifespan. if you're not reading this you are MISSING OUT.

a light, a song, a bluebird by @millllenniawrites. notes: made me SOB 10/10 would recommend if you like emotional trauma.

invisible string by @campingwiththecharmings. notes: pining!!! loneliness!!! i adore!!!

hard landings by @softlyspector. notes: no. no you don't understand. this fic doesn't just own my soul it is my soul. i want it tattooed on my face.

misc.

hopper x reader by @luveline. notes: you don't understand this might be the cutest shit i've ever read and jade is a fellow welsh person which automatically makes them brilliant in my book.

muña by @in-my-feels-probably. notes: alicent means fucking everything to me and this had me sobbing.

mistletoe magic by @writingsbychlo. notes: literally the cutest fucking thing ever, had me kicking my legs and squealing!!

[g0ldenzinnie]

Princess Treatment x NCT 127

Featuring: Nct 127 Hyung line Genre: Fluff, suggestive, sweet boys and a little of them being dom. Word count: 2.7k Note: Sorry for the delay but here they are, soon I'll publish the maknae line and then the Johhny fic. Hope you like it <3.

Taeil x cooking for you. 

Even though he has the money to buy you a whole restaurant, he cooks for you every time he can. And I don’t mean cooking fried eggs and rice for dinner. I mean plates worth three Michelin stars. He would make you try new and extravagant things. However, every single one of them is cooked magnificent under his hands. 

“Try this” He spoke, offering you a spoon with sautéed vegetables. You were sitting on the counter with your legs crossed. Watching your boyfriend getting inspiration. You bend over and eat his creation, being delighted with the result. 

“Taeil, it’s so good.” You said smiling. He was looking at you determined. “Really? He asked looking at every detail of your expression to see if you were telling the truth. “Because I think it’s salty.” He says, trying another spoon, leaning his head and nodding. “Yeah, it’s salty.” 

“Baby, it’s fine. Now can I help you please? I feel useless here.” You said getting down from the kitchen counter and facing the other vegetables he had on a kitchen board. But you couldn’t even touch them, since Taeil wrapped you in his arms and took you away from his working area. You tried to resist, but he made his grip stronger. Smiling at how cute you looked, trying to get away from his arms. 

“You won’t move a finger my love. You are my princess after all.” He then leaves you on the door of the kitchen and places a kiss on your forehead.

 “Now, please relax on the couch, watch your series and your dinner will be there in no time.” He said smiling brightly to you. You sigh and roll your eyes. “Fine. But next time, dinner’s on me.” You reclaim while you direct to the couch. But both of you knew Taeil would still cook for you anyway. 

You were watching half of the episode of your series when Taeil arrives with two plates. He then comes with a fancy bottle of wine and two glasses. Maybe the dinner looked fancy, but you would still sit on the couch with the coffee table as your dining room. 

That is the thing you loved about being with Taeil. He felt like home, a comfy and warm home. But still he would never make you feel ordinary. 

You talk about everything, Taeil listening carefully as always, asking you questions about your day or the gossip of your workplace. His focus is completely into your words. As if it were some kind of sonnet. When you finished talking and eating, you tried to get up to clean up the dishes, but he stopped you, pushing you to the couch. 

“Baby, at least let me clean the pl-” You were interrupted by a kiss on your lips. He smoothly takes the plate from your hands and leaves it on the coffee table. Guiding his hands now to your tights, going up slowly to your waist. “They can’t wait.” He said close to your lips with a playful smile. You chuckle before kissing him back. 

Johnny x Princess Passenger. 

Johnny's favorite dates were when you just got into the car and drove. It didn’t have to be somewhere in particular. He just needed you in the passenger seat, some music and the road. So, everything you asked for in the car was yours. You wanted to drive through? Right away. You wanted to put on the music? Ok for him. You wanted just to sleep? Bend the seat, he’ll be quiet. 

For him, you could be doing anything and still love your company in the car. But he had one condition. As you know your boyfriend very well, he is very clingy. He needs to touch you to feel easy. And that includes even when you are in the same car. It can be touching your hand, or your thigh, or something else. Even though you love that about him, you would still tease him some days. 

And today was definitely one of those days.

It was 10:00 PM, when Johnny called you. It was a surprise since you thought he would be working till late at night. “Hello?” You responded confused on the phone. “Let 's ride.” Your boyfriend responded with his usual excited voice. You can already imagine that playful smile on his face at the other side of the line. 

“I thought you were working late.” You said while putting your shoes on. “Well, I am…” He said on the speaker. You try not to laugh, because you know your boyfriend. “And?...” You responded, making him continue. “Well, I escaped.” He confessed. You laugh. “Johnny, one day you will get fired.” You said getting up from your bed. You heard the laugh of Johnny through your phone.

 “Just get your ass in my car. We’re going to get ice cream.” The thoughts in your head disappeared when you heard the magical word. “Yay! Ice cream!” So now you were in his car eating your favorite ice cream, hearing pitch perfect. Your life couldn’t get any better. “Give me some.” Johnny asked while driving. You handed him a spoon, and naturally like a professional he ate it with his eyes on the road. You found that so hot about him. 

By instinct, he then leaned his head towards your hand. Looking for your caring,  As I mentioned before, you were feeling a little playful. So instead of letting him feel your hand as you usually did, you removed your hand. 

Him, completely confused, tries to catch your hand again. But you put it out of his reach, again. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” he asks, looking at you weird. “Nothing” you say while holding your laughter. He nods and tries another move, this time reaching your tight. His grip was firm and secure. You bite your lip, knowing that he is just trying to provoke you. You loved when he grabbed your tight like that. 

But still you removed his hand. You let out a little giggle when your boyfriend again tried to touch you. Letting him know that you were just messing with him. So he decided to pay you back. This time he used a little more force into his grip. Leaving your skin with red marks. You hold a moan biting your inner cheek. Johnny smirking at your reaction. 

“If you take out your hand one more time, I’m gonna have to pull over and punish you princess.” 

Taeyong x Giving you flowers 

It was believed that victorians gave the yellow tulips the meaning of “there's sunshine in your smile.”

This man would remind himself that every time he encountered you, he would have to give you flowers. And not just any kind of flower. Every time he gave you one, this would be different than the last one. 

And every single one of them had a specific meaning. He would probably investigate what kind of flower is and the meaning of his color. And do you think these flowers come alone? No, no. There is always a little note with a rhyme he created just for you. 

You were at your work cafe when you suddenly felt two taps on your shoulder and turned to find no one. You shrink your eyebrows, thinking you definitely feel someone calling you. To your surprise, you turned around and found a beautiful bouquet on your face. The man holding them was hiding behind them. But of course you knew who it was. 

“Tae, I thought you were on practice.” You say holding the bouquet and finding Taeyong behind with a smile. “I was, but that doesn't stop me from seeing my princess.” You smile sweetly hearing those words and looking at the flowers. 

They were beautiful yellow tulips. Taeyong, seeing your smile, grins for himself and says “That’s the smile.” You look at him confused, not understanding what he said. “What?” He shakes his head and just gets closer to you, placing a short and sweet kiss on your lips. 

“Nothing baby, c’mon I only have 10 minutes.” He quickly takes your hand and runs to one of the tables in the coffee shop. 

During those 10 minutes you talk about nonsense. Taboo topics like the gossip in your workplace and in his. Some drama that happened with the members, ending in another hilarious fight between Haechan and Doyoung. 

You laugh when Taeyong tells you this, imagining the dynamic duo screaming like they usually do. But you didn’t notice the moment you started laughing, Taeyongs chest filled with the air, gasping at how beautiful you looked right now. 

It’s just when you laughed, you took his breath away. It was like a hundred start lights were blinding him every time your smile appeared. And he was delighted by it. Without him noticing, he raised his hand to take yours. 

His gaze softened, focusing on you and you only. You stop giggling and look at him confused. “What?” He shakes his head, smiling now. “Nothing just… I love you so much.” You smile and intertwine your fingers with his. “I love you too.” He responds smiling and leaning closer to kiss your lips, but he was interrupted by your boss. 

“Y/n, stop smooching and get your ass back to work.” She says from the board. Your boyfriend giggles and looks at you mischievous. “Someone is calling you.” You sigh and nod. 

You get up from the chair, grabbing the flowers. “Thank you.” He smiles and caresses your cheek. “Of course princess.” He kissed you and left waving his hand like a little kid. You waved him back and went back to work.

 Afterwards, when you were alone and more calm, you checked the card that was attached to the flowers. When you read the message you blush and feel a warmness in your chest. 

"Her smile shines like rays of sunlight on a gloomy day, just like an angel, with every smile, she shines away the rain clouds, making my heart sway.”

Yuta x dress you. 

This might be understood as he chooses all of your clothes, but no. He literally dresses you. He must put on your clothes all the time. Zip your dress, put on your hoodie, lock your necklace, anything. 

But his favorite thing in the whole world is to tie your heels. He has something with your legs, So whenever he finds an opportunity, he touches them. And you knew it, so you used it every time for your own pleasure. 

One night, you were preparing yourselves for a gala party of the company. Yuta was tying the aces of his shoes on the bed, wearing a black suit that fit him in a way that should be illegal. The first two buttons of his black blouse were open, making his chest clear to the open. You bite your lip, watching your sexy boyfriend being totally naive of his reaction to you. 

So, since this morning you have been feeling a little… playful, you decided to tease him a little. You walked smoothly to him, Yuta still unaware of your presence. Just when you were in front of him, he raised his gaze. 

“What’s wrong darling?” He asked softly. You smiled in return, looking down at him. Slowly you raised your leg, leaving it discovered because of your black long leg cutout dress, until your heel was between his legs, pressed against the mattress. 

You gave him an innocent look, that both of you know it was fake. Still, he smiled wide looking at you up and down. He loved this act of yours. You smile in response and ask softly. “Would you help me baby?”

He analyzes your leg, going down slowly, finishing in your unwrapped heel. He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re trying to provoke me, princess?” He says before straightening to have a better posture. You just shrink your shoulders. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He giggles at your act of innocence.

His hand went to your leg slowly. Caressing your calf with his thumb, sending you chills to your core. He then reached out for your heel. Tying it like a professional, since he has done this so many times. 

After finishing, he gets close to your ankle leaving a soft kiss on your skin. You chuckle at the sensation, making your boyfriend have his known playful smile. He tapped your leg twice. “The other one, please”. 

You obey him by changing the leg. He makes the same process. His thumbs moved gently, like your skin was made of glass. You close your eyes, feeling relaxed and aroused by his movements. As you always did. 

But you suddenly feel a little puncture on your leg. You let out a little scream and open your eyes, to find Yuta giggling. He had just bitten you. You gasp looking at him outraged. “Meany” You say smiling. “Teaser” He responds by getting up quickly, wrapping you in his arms and starting to kiss your neck. 

You giggle and try to stop him. "Baby the gala." He separates and smiles playful. "Don't think you're getting away with this. The night has just started princess."

Doyoung x pays for everything

This man doesn’t even let you take out your wallet. You find amazing the ability Doyoung has to pay that fast. Whenever you try to pay, he already has his card in his hand, saying that “he got it.” It happens in restaurants, fairs, malls, even in gift shops. You can’t escape Doyoung’s money.  

Even when he was not present. 

You were facing yourself in front of the hairdresser mirror. With your new haircut, that you would still be trying to settle with. You wanted a change for this year, so you thought that your hair would be the perfect victim. 

“So what do you think?” Your aunt asks, owner of the hairdresser. You always got your hair with her. She had an undisputed talent. 

“It 's amazing. Thank you auntie.” You respond, getting up from the chair. “So how much do I owe you?” You turn around, facing her. When you do, you find a nervous face. Shrinking eyes and a tense smile. 

“Yeah well, about that…” You look at her confused, but in just two seconds you got your answer. “No he didn’t” You say angry. Your aunt gives you an expression of defeat. “I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted. And he gave me, well, a good tip.” 

Of course he did, you thought. You thanked your aunt once again and went directly to your shared apartment you had with your boyfriend downtown. Knowing he would be there, to finally face him. 

After a 10 minute walk, you finally reach your apartment, finding Doyoung on the couch. He gave you a wide smile, analyzing your look and instantly loving it. “Someone is looking gorgeous.” He says flirty getting up to embrace you with a hug. 

“Thanks to you.” You say in a not so motivated way. He separates from you, looking confused. “What do you mean?” 

“You paid my aunt for my haircut.” He didn’t change his confused look. “So?” He asks you. You sigh and separate to go to the kitchen. “I wanted, for once, to pay for something by myself.” You turn quickly. “It’s not that I’m not thankful.” Doyoung shrinks his eyebrows. “Good, because you don’t seem like it.” You close your eyes in desperation. 

“That is not what I wanted to express.” You pause for a moment, and sight. “I just… I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” You feel your chest heavy, finally confessing that you felt guilty everytime he wasted his money with you. 

But for him, it wasn't a waste. He got close to you, slowly to not scare you. You long for an exhausted or tired face on your boyfriend. But you only find a sweet and dearing face. Doyoung takes your face gently, caressing your cheeks with your thumbs. 

“My princess, you can use me in any way you want.” He got close and gave you a peek on the lips. “It will never bother me.” You giggle and shake your head. “That doesn’t make me feel better.” You respond, wrapping your arms around your neck. He chuckles and gives another kiss on the lips. This one is deeper and stronger. He separates, giving you little kisses on the cheek and starts to talk in your ear.

“Maybe you’ll feel better when we go out and eat in a nice restaurant. So everyone can see that new haircut of yours.” You smirk, taking your boyfriend's face, for him to see you. “At least let me pay for dessert.” 

He then smirks and leans his forehead against yours. “You are the only dessert I need.” 

[darkbluekies]

The track runner reader fic w/Silas got me thinking👀

Hear me out okay..

Ballerina reader x Silas

How would he react to see her practice,her shows

Swan lake, Giselle..

Italian fouettés, Entrechat quatre x3 royale, Developpe A la Seconde etc

Yk the high extensions,leg holds the whole shebang

Just a thot👀

Stolen part

Yandere!mafia x fem!reader

Summary: you've finally been granted to do ballet, but when Silas sees you upset, everything turns into a nightmare

Warnings: yandere, mentions of blood, broken bones, a lot of guilt and confusion, panic attack(?), reader just feeling horrible

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I took some creative liberty with your request, I hope that's okay. And uh, I know 0 about ballet, so take this with a handful of salt<3

One performance — that’s the deal. One single performance and then you’ll go back to normal life. You nearly fainted when he told you that you could do one dance, after months and months of begging, pleading and crying. You almost started threatening him when you became desperate enough. 

“Well … we’re here”, Silas sighs as his men stop the car. “You know the rules, don’t you? Do we have to go through them again?”

“No, I know them”, you smile. 

You take his hand while exiting the car. Silas smiles and squeezes your hand softly. It’s worth all the trouble, he tells himself. If you’re happy, then it’s all worth it.

When you enter the practice room, you’re met by a dozen other girls wearing the same clothes as you. It’s been such a long time ago that you’ve felt so … included. There’s a certain feeling about wearing the same thing that creates a unity you can’t explain. 

“Run along”, Silas tells you, giving you a small push towards the group. 

He walks over to the instructor. He can tell right away that she knows who he is. He braces himself. She can either call the police or let him go. If she decides to call the police, he’ll have to create a blood bath and snatch you back in the car. 

“Can I have a word with you?” Silas asks politely. 

“Sure”, the woman answers hesitantly. 

“I can tell by the look on your face that you know very well who I am, so I want to make a deal with you.”

“What type of deal?”

“If you don’t call the cops on me and give my girlfriend an honest chance — because I know that she’s magnificent — I will fund your entire club. All clothes, all expenses, all props, venue, is on me. Fair?”

The woman thinks for a moment. Silas know that the club is underfunded. He knows that she has to agree.

“Okay”, the woman says shortly. 

“Good”, Silas replies and waves at you to come over. 

You skip over with sparkling eyes. He pulls you in to kiss him, in front of everybody. His kisses are always controlled by him, but they always show extremely much love for you, a deep hunger nothing can satisfy. 

“My men will stay to supervise, to make sure nothing happens to you”, he says and gives you another kiss. “Have fun now, little thing. I’ll see you soon.”

You nod. Silas squeezes your shoulder, gives the group of ballerinas a warning stare and then leaves. 

You return to the group. The people who knows who Silas is give you nervous gazes and the ones who don’t look at you with jealousy. 

Well, this is starting off great, you’ll absolutely make many friends.

Time goes on. Silas enjoys seeing the wise smile on your face every time you exit the building after a practice. Every time you’re in practice, he takes the opportunity to do some errands. He always makes sure to come pick you up clean, never covered in blood. 

But one day, you’re crying when you meet him. His heart drops in an instant and he thinks that putting you in ballet was a mistake. It wasn’t worth it at all. 

“What happened, baby?” he asks worriedly and takes you in his arms. “What did they do to you?”

You struggle to talk through your violent sobs. He believes that you’re having a panic attack, but you can still move relatively well. Silas grabs your shoulders and waves at his men to come over. 

“Y/N, what did they do to you?” he asks and looks at his men. “Did any of the others hurt her?”

The men shake their heads. 

“Y/N!” Silas says sharply. 

“I-I didn’t … get … the ... lead role”, you manage to get out through your sobs. 

You know it’s silly, of course. Honestly. It’s childish to cry over not being the main character, but this was your only chance to be on stage before you’ll get pulled back into capture. You’ll never have this much freedom again. It’s embarrassing to cry about this, and you know that very well, but they don’t know how much you’ve suffered to even be in the practice room. 

“You didn’t?” Silas asks shortly. 

“No”, you cry. 

Silas turns to his men and hands you to one of them. 

“Bring her to the car”, he says. “I will be back soon.”

He disappears into the building. The practice room is empty, apart from the constructor who is cleaning up after today's class.

“Oh”, she says, noticing him. “Can I help you?”

“If you're smart, you can”, Silas says coldly. “I heard that Y/N didn't get the lead role. I'm just wondering why?”

“She wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this particular role … I mean, she's extremely good, but just not what I had in mind when I visualized the lead. She's a runner up, though.”

Not good enough, Silas thinks.

“Okay”, he says and nods. “I see.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turns around and leaves. Anger is burning through his chest. Seeing you so upset makes him see red. He would burn down the entire world for you to watch you smile. He walks back to the car where you sit in the backseat and the two men in the front. 

“Hey, baby”, he smiles and sits down beside you. “Are you feeling better? Should we get some food on the way home?”

You nod. Silas smiles and wipes your tears. His men are forced to hear how he sucks the air out of you in the backseat. He devours your lips, trying to comfort both you and himself. He holds you in his arms, letting you cry. The more you cry, the more embarrassed you feel. You’re ashamed because you can’t understand why you are so upset over it. It’s just a role, you’ll still be on stage, won’t you? Is it because you think that you’re better than the others? That you deserve the position of the lead? Do you deserve it because you’re so good or because this is your only chance? The others have many more opportunities to get the role you want, why can’t you just get one? You’ll never be seen again, why can’t you get it?

Why are you thinking like this? You’re not entitled to anything. Has Silas imprinted the narrative that you’re so special, so wonderful that deeply into your brain? Do you believe that you’re this special, one of a kind person that deserve everything because you’re so special? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Silas asks, caressing your cheek. “You look so thoughtful. Let me in.”

“I- … I- …”, you start, but can’t seem to talk — you can’t even formulate your own thoughts.

“Breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re with me now.”

“I am breathing … I just …”

“Just …?”

You shake your head. 

“Just hungry”, you lie. “And tired.”

“It’s okay, you’ll get some food soon”, Silas promises and kisses your lips once again. “We’ll stop by McDonald’s.”

You get your food and you eat together with Silas in your bedroom, but you can’t stop thinking about the lump in your stomach. Why are you so upset? Why can’t you put words on your feelings? 

You lay awake the entire night in your empty bed (because Silas is out working) and think. Crying over not getting the lead role won’t make you enjoy the last few weeks in the club. Ballet is your true love, you should do everything you can to enjoy it — specifically because you’ll not get it back. You should be happy with your role — you’re even a runner up! That’s fantastic. You breathe out. Ease sets into your heart. It doesn’t matter what role you get, as long as you have fun. 

When you enter the practice room the next time, you can tell that something is wrong right away. The girl who got the lead part … has crutches. You feel a shiver run down your back. Mortified, you shake your head. Silas. He must have done something to give you the lead role, that you so desperately wanted. He never got to know that you became satisfied with your original role. Guilt washes over you, suddenly you feel extremely sick. You need to take a hold on the wall to not fall. One hand presses against your chest to not vomit. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” one of the body guards asks as they hurry over. 

You nod sloppily. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god. This is all my fault. 

This is what you had been feeling bad about — finally you can put words on that weird feeling in your stomach. You were scared that Silas would do something to the girl that got the lead without even noticing it. If anything, that shows how close you know Silas.

“He … he did this … didn’t he?” you whisper, feeling distant. 

“The boss couldn’t stand to watch you be upset”, one of the body guards answers quietly, only for you to hear. “He made sure to get you the role he wanted.”

You’re freezing. That poor girl. Suddenly you don’t want that part anymore. The part is dirty, and your hands are covered in blood. 

Your mind is anywhere but in practice when you dance your stolen part, but your body works for you. 

Silas is standing out in the parking lot a wide smile when you walk out. He opens his arms for you, but you don’t walk into them. 

“Are you happy now?” he asks. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Silas …”, you say quietly and shake your head. 

He tries to grab you, but you jerk back. Silas frowns. 

“But you wanted it”, he says. “You had a panic attack. I gave the part to you.”

“Silas, I feel extremely guilty. I stole her part. It’s not fair.”

He grabs your shoulders and force you to look at him. 

“The world isn’t fair, little thing”, he says. “If you have some power, use it. I want to use my power to make you happy, baby. You’ll do better than that girl ever could. You should have gotten that part from the very beginning.”

He gives you a kiss and brings you to the car. 

When the day for the performance arrive, you refuse to come out of the dressing room. The costume looks horrible on you. You can only see the other girl in the mirror. None of the other girls have talked to you after the lead girl ended up with crutches. They all know why you got the role. And how you got it. 

“We start in five minutes, get out!” the instructor tells you and basically pulls you out on stage. 

You see a lot of familiar faces in the crowd. Silas has brought as many of his men as he possibly could. Silas himself is sitting in the front row with his right hand man beside him, smiling at you. You look around. All his men are smiling at you. Weirdly enough, it’s somehow cute. They all look like they could kill anyone in any second, but the second you look their way, big, genuine smiles creeps up on their faces. Turning them from killer machines to teddy bears. 

You dance to the best of your ability. This is what you’ve been begging and pleading for. Better enjoy the spotlight while you can. You can’t help but feeling dirty throughout the performance. Silas, however, has never looked this proud before. 

The second the applauds roll in, you fall to your knees, crying. You fulfilled your childhood dream, but at what cost? A girl broke her leg because of your emotions, you stole her role … you’re covered in dirt that you can’t wash off. You don’t deserve these applauds. You don’t deserve any of this. 

“Y/N!” Silas gasps and runs up on the stage with his right hand man by his side. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I want to go home”, you sob. “Get me out of here.”

Silas nods and waves at his men to walk out. He picks you up and follows his men. 

“You did so well, baby”, Silas smiles while walking. “I’ma always proud of you, but this was something else. Everyone saw how absolutely fantastic you were. You’re an absolute badass, baby. I fucking love you so much.”

You smile slightly. It’s finally over. You’ve achieved your dream — although you wish that you never had done it — and now, you’re going back to your locked bedroom. You almost long for it. 

[lunarw0rks]

that fic about simons first time with the reader is magnificent I swear 😭

can you do something similar but when the reader tries to take control a little, maybe go down on him for the first time?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ first-time with simon (pt.2) ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

// warning(s): nsfw, gn!reader ────have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗ // ♡ PART ONE ♡ PART THREE ♡

simon thought nothing of it, the foreplay leading up to intimacy.

typically, you were at the mercy of his skilled fingers for several minutes — until you wanted nothing more than him buried inside you.

tonight was different. it was your turn to do something for him, to make him feel the same semblance of euphoria he gave you every time.

after a few minutes of making out, dry humping against him, you knew you wanted to do this for him. without skipping a beat, you began sliding down his lap, fingers fumbling with his zipper.

"love, you really don't need to do that for me... are you sure?" he leaned back against the mattress, halting your movements with a hand on your arm.

you were sure, completely sure. it was only fair.

"i want to," you reply, shrugging off his hand and finishing off the rest of his zipper. you peeled back the opening of it, exposing the bulge in his ebony briefs. "let me do this for you, simon."

there was no refusing that, despite how unnecessary it seemed to simon. you wanted to service him for a change, and by now, he was already picturing the sight of your lips wrapped around his length.

after a few moments of contemplation, his eyes watching as your fingers peeled back his boxers, he caved and nodded. "just... don't want to be fussed over." he shifted awkwardly against the sheets, trying to let his gentility towards you overpower his lust.

you stared at him through your lashes, palming his finally freed erection, "it's not fussing," you licked a stripe along the base to coax him into relaxation.

his hips bucked upwards instinctively, whilst his muscles tensed. his willpower dwindled the moment you ran your tongue along, and looked at him that way.

"f-fuck, if you do that again—" simon's fingers clenched around the sheets. he hadn't had a partner use their mouth on him in ages, it was practically a whole new sensation again.

no answer from you, except you licking along his cock again, then wrapping your lips around the tip of it. his pre-cum coated your mouth, lubricating it as you swirled your tongue. all that restraint, gone in an instant.

a palm found the back of your head — but it never pushed it down or forced its movements.

he needed to touch you in order to enjoy this, even though he was only supposed to lie back and savor it. "goddammit." he gritted his teeth, letting out a guttural moan when you hollowed your cheeks around his manhood. through your hooded gaze, you savored every reaction of pleasure he supplied your ears.

he was more sensitive than you imagined him to be — all the stamina he had must have been reserved for being buried inside you because currently there wasn't any. he was putty; a complete mess, despite how nonchalant his posture was.

simon hissed when you finally found a fluid pace, his eyes half-lidded with intense infatuation.

you bobbed your head at a moderate pace, relaxing your throat muscles so your throat could take as much of him as possible. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but nothing would discourage you from easing up. his thighs were shaking, more so when you kneaded the flesh of them with your fingers.

he wasn't long for release; the sight of your mouth wrapped around his girthy cock, the spit, and pre-cum making a squelch each time you came up for air.

in a matter of seconds, he fisted your hair, forcing you to a stop. his curses were drawn out and barely audible, your throat used as a vessel for every last drop of cum drained from him. the warm, sticky spurts went down when you swallowed around him, cockwarming his length for a few seconds until his release had finished.

you drew in heavy breaths when he released the hand on the back of your head, feeling the remnants of fluids drip down your chin.

simon's chest was heaving a mile a minute. though he was blinded by lust, he still looked apologetic for the way he got forceful at the end, if it could even be called that. "bloody christ, you're too good for me, love." he breathed, motioning for you to return to his lap again.

"fussing over me now, huh?" he asked with a playful edge to his words, sitting you atop his exposed lap like you had been before the idea arose. his breath tickled your ear when he leaned in, "think you've earned some attention now, haven't you, sweetheart?"

[theguyinthemathexamples]

From the Beauty, to the Creation

— to celebrate my beloved Argenti coming home after i first lost to Bronya (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

— C/W : trying a new fic format, extremely self indulgent, possibly ooc 😞, spoilers?, my first sahsr/sahsrau fic‼️

Being the vessel of an Aeon that was thought to have long since passed was no easy feat, as it required other Aeons to set their sights on you first.

Some call Them the Aeon of Creation, others the Aeon of Fate; the IPC have yet to decipher their time of arrival, much less their motives. Though, most theorize that they materialized long before the first atom had started moving, only to stay dormant in a state akin to hibernation after setting the universe up for self replication and ever expansion.

(more utc‼️‼️)

Their presence felt like home, a warm embrace, maybe even a light in the dark, or perhaps a form of escapism. Everyone is sure of one thing: once you accept Their calling, and accept the Astral Express's conductor's invitation, there will never be a way to turn back.

To others' eyes, a faint string can be seen reaching the heavens itself, tracing down a vessel, caressing their whole beings like a forced blanket thrown at their face.

An almost addicting bliss could be felt after these possessions, before that moment of ethereal release comes crashing down. Though, those that are used to always moving around — those with more stamina — don't usually feel this drawback as much as the others.

More often than not, the feeling of being watched and dazed dissipates and a feeling of fatigue sets in — intense tiredness, and even a slight chance to feel dizziness, had been reported from these... events.

But most importantly, a voice could be heard. A voice that many described as one which contained a thousand choirs, perhaps millions.

Among those was Argenti, a man of excellent talents that walked on the Path of Erudition, though claims to walk that of Beauty. One of the most recent vessels, per say.

He first felt this presence after accidentally hitting the Astral Express with his own ship, the "One and Only", he called it, the faint strings caressing the being of three out of the six Trailblazers.

To exude such a warm, calming aura around one at all times is truly a magnificent display of beauty, he thought.

The second time, however, it was quite a sudden moment. A strange letter was penned to him, claiming that it could make his goal of spreading the Beauty, if he used the golden ticket provided inside, a dozen steps closer.

The weirdest aspect was that he kept hearing faint whispers around him. Was this how vessels gained an invitation?

Though, feeling hesitant about this strange letter, he chose to send it instead to the Commander of the Silvermane Guards, Lady Bronya Rand, so that someone else could experience such a wonderful event.

The letter warned him that he must accept this invitation, were he to receive such a letter once more.

Third time's the charm, as they say, as not only did Argenti get another letter not too long after, the voices were much louder this time. They were more persuasive, more hoping and, most importantly, more enticing.

The letter beforehand told him of the earlier warning, and this one did not hesitate to emphasize it in the second paragraph.

And, left with no other choice, he had to accept this invitation. He truly didn't expect getting treated with such warmth and excitement seeping through every vein in his body.

He briefly caught sight of the Aeon in all their glory — was this a sign that his fate towards meeting the Beauty was slowly coming into fruition?

Being blessed by two Aeons, even briefly catching their attention, was a feat unlike any other, but being chosen as an active vessel by one? What a truly great achievement.

Along with the Trailblazer that caught him, four others stood behind them. A master swordsman that went by Yanqing, the owner of Neverwinter Workshop, Lady Serval Landau, the Commander of the Silvermane Guards he'd given the invite to earlier, Lady Bronya Rand, and a child that waved at him who called herself Lynx Landau.

Quite an interesting group of people, but a beautiful bond of friendship swirled among them nonetheless.

Slowly, he could feel himself getting stronger, even more so than before. This mysterious Aeon had gifted him so many things already, yet it doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

From the creations of the acolytes of the Aeon of Remembrance, Lightcones, to relics which were created from anomalies caused by the Antimatter Legion, and more — all were given to him to make him more powerful.

It was as if meeting and becoming the puppet of this Aeon could make you undeniably better than your former self, even after you thought you were already at your peak.

The world doesn't revolve around you? The creator of the universe lovingly revolves around me 24/7, thank you very much.

In a place unknown, a black haired Stellaron Hunter sneezes, causing two others beside him to sneak a small glance.

He merely huffs, averting his own gaze away.

... Ignorance is often bliss.

This is my first time writing my beloved so I'm sorry in advance if he's ooc 😞😞

I hope you all liked this cuz i def liked making it hehe

Next on the agenda? My thoughts on sahsr/sahsrau :DDD

[dark-and-kawaii]

ok HEAR ME OUT your last raphael fic was magnificent and got me..thinking of things🫣 imagine him taking tav with him to the HoH after impregnating (if he hasn’t yet before), to always keep an eye on her progress and to f her whenever he pleases of course, worshipping her body like she’s a goddess as she grows

I may have gotten carried away with this, but I really enjoy Raphael and this request had me cooking for a while. It got dark near the end but we gotta remember this is still Raphael bahaha!!! Thank you for the love and support 🫶 I really hope you like this anon

Raphael - Pregnancy - Possessiveness - Death - Protectiveness - NSFW

Raphael’s world was turned upside down when he discovered that you were carrying his child- an heir that awakened an intense sense of ownership within him. Should anything happen to his child or you he’d rip every soul from every last being once he claimed the nine Hells. Consumed by these feelings, he had made the decision to bring you back to Hell with him, driven by a need to keep a watchful eye on your pregnancy's progress.

With each curve of your growing form, Raphael is both enraptured and possessively drawn to you. He admires your pregnant beauty as if you were a goddess, your radiance captivating and enthralling him. Unyielding desires surge through his veins, fueled by a hunger for power and utter control. Raphael sees your pregnancy as the ultimate manifestation of yours and his union, a divine creation meant to bring forth an heir worthy of his wicked legacy.

Walking through his House of Hope, Raphael's lustful needs called for fulfillment, and it was you he would seek out… Bypassing his personal incubus, Haarlep. Perhaps he’d come back to the fool once his child came to be in this world… As for now though, Raphael only wished to devour you whole and to watch you come undone on his cock once more while his hands rested on the swell of your stomach.

Your moans and pleasurable screams could be heard throughout the boudoir and into the grand hall of Raphael’s domain. He savored the way your voice grew louder, quivering as you urged him on, the rhythmic thumping of his bed against the wall getting faster as you bounced on his cock vigorously. His name slipping from your lips while you cum on his pretty cock for the third time that night.

“Always so eager to please me, rest now little mouse. You deserve it after such a riveting performance.”

With your head now rested on Raphael’s chest, your body coated in sweat as you slept soundly… He glides the tip of his fingers down your exposed flesh as Haarlep watches their master display a rare form of affection.

Haarlep, driven by their own carnal desires, could not comprehend the depth of Raphael's love for you. For you were only supposed to be tool for him to use. Has his master grown soft? Mocking and taunting, Haarlep belittles Raphael's affections for you, “A once lost thief in the night now held tight by the devil himself as if she were some precious treasure. How-“.

Raphael scrunched his nose with stern disapproval, he had enough of Haarlep’s impish behavior and warns his incubus, “If you aren’t careful dear pet you may find yourself hanging in the basement with our dear friend, Hope.” The devil made it abundantly clear that his love for you was to be respected and not ridiculed… Haarlep stayed silent, their tail resting on your leg- a sign that they know their place and will do their best to keep their masters lover safe when not around.

A deep laugh emanated from Raphael’s chest, “Good. I’m delighted that you’ve found sense again, I was worried there for a moment.”

Though as time went by Haarlep's mockery persisted, but Raphael's unwavering love for you remained true as your pregnancy progressed. He refused to let anyone, not even Haarlep, cast doubt on his devotion. With a immoral determination to protect you his beloved, and his unborn child; Raphael defended you against the jeers and taunts of Haarlep, showing that his feelings were not to be trifled with...

One morning you awoke to a strange coldness… Both Haarlep and Raphael were usually entwined with you each and every time you awoke… Yet, “Raphael,” you call out to him, nudging him attempting to wake him, “where is Haarlep?” The devil pulls you into him best he can without putting pressure on your stomach, his wings enveloping you, “You’ll be leaving with Korilla in an hour to Baldurs Gate. Make haste and get ready, you don’t want to keep her waiting.” You could hear the grin in his voice, “I expect a visit from my dear father, Mephistopheles and I rather you not be present when he shows.”

A chill runs through you with every word your fiendish lover speaks… Raphael wickedly confessing to you that he has taken the life of his incubus, no remorse or regret evident.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 4

pairing: witch!wanda x fem!reader

summary: trick or treat? definitely a treat!

warnings: smut!!!, dark!wanda, dubcon!!, anal, overstimulation, edging, grooping, kinda voyeurism, inserting tentacles, over all dark themes! if you find anything else - I’ll add it!

words count: 3.6k

an: to be honest im not really sure what i did here, umm this fic was written with the biggest block ever, so I do apologize, also it wasn’t proofread, so yeah

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

"I´m coming! Just a minute," was heard on the other side of the door as soon as you knocked. Every second bring your body more anxiety, so you try to shake it off by fidgeting with your ring.

After few minutes the door finally opens - and a pretty tall lady, with red hair and aboslutely georgous black dress smiles at you. Your eyes scan her whole look under a second and you look back into her eyes. Her emerald green eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, glisten with a captivating emotion. Her gaze is drawing you in with a mysterious charm. These stunning green eyes seem to reflect the beauty, but also the mystery that comes with the readhead infront of you.

"Trick or treat!" you say as you smile back at her.

"Oh sweetheart," now it´s her turn to look you up and down. Her smile is raplaced by a confusion. "um... and what are you supposed to be?" The redhead tilts her head.

"I- uh a witch." You try to answer with confidence, as you bring your wand up to show her your full fit.

You wouldn´t win an award for the best costume this Halloween, but you tried and everything is homemade, so you should definitely get some bonus points for that. Full black outfit with some spider webs around your torso sounded like a good idea, but maybe it was really hard to tell who are you trying to be.

"Oh- i see now." She nods, but you can see the disappointment in her face. She throws some candy into your bag, but you notice right away that it was only a licorice sweets, which is the worst thing she could give you. "Where is the rest of your group?" She asks as she looks behind you as if she´s waiting for someone else to come.

"Uh... it´s just me. No one wanted to go with me, since they think my outfit sucks." You sigh as you look down, deep down feeling like they might be right.

"Oh no, sweetheart. None of that." She steps closer and her soft fingers touches your chin, lifting it for you to make eye contact with her. "How about I´ll help you with your outfit and at the end of the night you´ll have every candy you ever dreamed off?" Her fingers gently caressing your chin.

"Really?" Your eyes spark with excitement. So much excitement.

"Come on in." The redhead let go of your chin and steps away from the door so you can come inside.

"Thank youuu-" Your eyes met hers again.

"Please call me Wanda." She smiles.

"Thank you, Wanda." You smile back.

As you come inside you can notice that her house is magnificent, everywhere you look you can see architectural details and many ornate decorations, especially on the stairs. It feels kinda like a labyrinth of richly hued tapestries, ornamental vases, and mirrors that capture the light just perfectly. Every corner of the house is a organized, with towering bookshelves that look like a billion dollars worth collection of books, with lots of knowlage in them. The overall ambiance is like a old charm, a sensations of history and elegance. To be honest you wouldn´t be shocked if an 150 old lady lived here, not a beautiful young lady like Wanda.

"Ohh so you like witches too?" You look through her library, reading some of her book titles.

Spells - and everything that comes with them, Spreading your power, Flying around the world: positions, Potions - third edition (extremly addicting)...

Wanda hums as she watches you being interest in her books. "I wrote most of them myself." She says, her voice was still sweet, but you could hear the little harsh tone she added to it, raspy growl with an accent, once subtle and charming, and now pronounced and intense. But you couldn´t put the accent anywhere, maybe somewhere in Europe? East? West? You really didn´t know where to point.

"So you´re an author?" You turn to her.

"You could say that, yeah." Wanda nods.

"That is so cool," you mumbled as something weird and pitch black caught your eye. It was a really dark book, more like a journal that definetly had some history, "what´s that?" you took it from the shelf.

"That is a something like my personal journal." The readhead steps closer to you.

"Oh sorry, I didn´t meant to invade your privacy!" Her hand fall on yours as you wanted to put the book back, where you took it.

"It´s okay, I don´t have any secrets. You can read it." Wanda smiles again.

As you open the book you notice that even her handwriting is so neat and beautiful. It suits her somehow, but as you continue to flip the pages her writing went from tall and pretty to harsh and short. Reading few sentences seem like a good idea, since you had Wanda´s approval. Your face went from smile to confussion real quick. But then it hit you. The woman infront of you you, known as Wanda, is a witch. Despite this revelation, you find yourself not scared but rather intrigued by the truth.

This whole time Wanda was looking at you, waiting for you to speak first.

"So... you´re also a witch?" You try to ease the situations by a joke.

"Also?" She chuckles. "Darling, this poor outfit looks on you more like a trash bag then a costume." Her words hurts. More than you want to admit.

Is my outfit really that shitty?

"Do you want an honest answer, sweetheart?" She steps closer.

Oh so she can read minds now, great.

"I can do more than just read minds." Her accent is very strong by now.

"I- can you not read my mind?" You look at her, noticing she got really close to you.

"Your thoughts are really loud, sweetheart. It´s kinda hard to resist." She almost whispers.

Are they? I can´t think- how do i stop thinking? Oh she´s really close. I don´t mind that. Fuck. (Y/N), not now. I would take her. On a walk, definetly on a walk. No in other way.

Wanda just laughs at your poor tries at calming down your thoughts. "Im glad you´re not afraid of me. That will ease things."

What things? Am I afraid? No. Maybe a little. Who knows? She does.

"Well helping with your new outfit, silly. Which will also help you make more sweets throughout the night."

"Oh! Right!" You nod, immediately following her to her living room, you guess.

You both enter the living room, a space illuminated by the warm, flickering light of few lit candles. Your eyes caught a few wine glasses, each bearing the mark of different shades of lipstick on the enormous wooden table. However, your attention remains fixed on Wanda, who is eager to assist you in making your new Halloween costume.

"Sit over there and I´ll bring some stuff." Wanda smiles and with that she leaves the living room.

You get bored very easily so not even after two minutes you´re on your feet again, glancing around the room. Your eyes are drawn to a paintings adorning the walls. Each canvas is a totally different theme. A dark landscape with rolling hills and a small lake makes you to step into its peaceful scene. Beside it, a bold, abstract burst with vibrant colors, evoking a sense of energy and excitement, which is something you definitely wouldn´t put in a place like this. The figurative portrait of a dark figure seems to watch over the place, which freaks you out a little, since you feel like it´s watching every single one of your steps, even though you can´t really see its face. As you watch these paintings, you don´t even hear Wanda come back.

"I thought I told you to sit over there." Her tone was once again very harsh, which made you feel like a kid that didn´t listen to their mother.

"Sorry, I was just admiring art." You shrug as you sit back, where you were in the first place.

Wanda didn´t say anything, she just started to take things from her bag and list through a book. "Here it is! This will definitely earn you bags full of sweets." She looks at you. "If you´re still in?"

"Yes, of course!" You nod and before you even fully stand up Wanda push you back down with her magic. "Oh wow, that was... so cool." You smile as you notice the red mist flying around.

Wanda smiles at your fascination and comes closer to you. "I need you to close your eyes and trust me, can you do that?" She tilts her head.

"Yes, Wanda. I can do that, if I´ll have a lots of sweets by the end of the night, I will do it!" Your eyes are sparking with bigger excitement than before as you imagine all the chocolate you will eat.

"Okay." She helps you lay down on the couch, which feels really soft on your skin and it makes you close your eyes instantly. "Good, just no matter what, I need you to have your eyes closed, I want it to be surprise." Wanda´s whispers trailing right down your spine.

"I love surprises, I will keep my eyes closed, I promie. Pinky promise!" With your closed eyes you held out a pinky. Almost punching her in the face, but she quickly dodge it. Wanda just smiles at your antics and extends her pinky to make a promise with you.

It took you one more shift on the couch to feel fully comfortable. "I´m ready." You mumble to let Wanda know, even though she can read your mind. Right after the magic start to float around once again.

You feel a lot of silly sensations right away, it feels like a tickling, which in fact makes you giggle out loud. "Tickles!" You say between the laughs.

"I know, it will be just a minute, darling." She smirks, knowing that the tickling feeling is just her magic taking your clothes fully off. At the same time Wanda reagulates your body tempeture with her spells, so you don´t feel even the slightest changes.

The ticklings stops and you fully relax on the couch again, taking a deep breath in and out. Nothing is happening for a few minutes, so it´s very tempting to open your eyes and look what´s going on.

Did she left? Um... should I-

"Absolutly not! If you can´t keep your eyes closed I´ll help you with that too, since I believe you can´t do anything on your own." Wanda scoffs and slides a blindfold over your head. Even if you tried opening your eyes now, you would see pitch black.

The spells and magic start to float around again, red mist tangling around your body. Wanda just sits in her fluffy chair on the other side of the living room. Glass with red wine in her hand as she watches you with hunger in her eyes.

As you open your mouth to talk, you let out a moan. You suddenly feel a warm rush of embarrassment wash over you, your cheeks turning a shade of crimson. It's as if a spotlight has been directed on your momentary lapse, and you can sense the weight of her eyes on you. You fumble for words and wish for a way to disappear into the floor, but the awkwardness lingers.

You feel something touching your body, something that is soft, yet very hard. A delightful sensation begins to spread across your entire body, as if invisible hands are gently caressing your skin. It's like a soothing, expertly executed massage, relaxation and comfort. This wave of bliss sweeps through you, releasing tension and stress with every touch, and you surrender to the embrace of calm that envelops you.

What the hell is that?

"What is what, darling?" Wanda asks, you can hear her voice on the other side of the room, so she can´t be the one touching you. "Oh that? It is just measuring spell, for your outfit to fit perfectly, sweetheart."

"O-okay." You kinda whine out. "I thought that-"

"Oh don´t be silly!" She laughs. "Just stay still." She adds with her raspiness again.

You´re staying still as much as you can. The sensations coursing through your body are unraveling the knots of tension that once held you captive. Muscle melting into a state of pure relaxation. Each touch seems to release a sigh of relief from deep within, and you sink further into a state of blissful repose. "I need you to be relaxed, otherwise it´s not going to fit, darling." Wanda adds.

Fit? Fit what?

"All the accessories." Once again she answer your inner question.

Wanda felt like you were ready and like you can and will take whatever she give you as a addiction to your costume.

You can feel something spreading your legs a bit and moving you little of the couch. The warm feeling never leaving your body, it´s the other way around actually, it´s just increasing. It’s weird how come you can feel a touch all around your body, when Wanda is on the other side of the room. You can hear her cutting out some cloth and time to time her soft humming.

"Oh my god-" you yelp as you can feel something wet between your legs.

How come I´m this wet? Did I pee myself? Oh my god! What is going on?

"Everything okay, darling?" Wanda asks as she´s looking at your hips, slowly going up and down. Your pussy is leaking and she didn´t even touch you.

"Yes! All good!" You´re hoping you´re just feeling things, but Wanda would already say something if things wouldn´t be okay. So it is just silly feelings. Oh you know what it is, it´s the little axienty from being blindfolded, now it make sense. You’re just anxious.

Wanda listen to your thoughs as she´s having the time of her life. It´s time for the actual fun to begin. She extends her hands, conjuring four crimson, ethereal tentacles of pure energy. These serpentine tentacles undulate, glowing with the passionate and dangerous red hue, slowly extending toward their target, you. It's a captivating display of Wanda's magical skills, a vivid manifestation of her power.

As each of them lay on you, you can feel a little wetness, that sticks to you right away. It feels... good. Really good. Whatever measuring device this is, you want to feel it in you-

'Your wish is my command' is Wanda´s first thought. One of the tentacles are slowly teasing you on your inner thighs. Moving slowly up and down your leg. "I need to measure your thighs, darling. Just to make sure your costume is the perfect size. Just give me a moment." She say from the other corner of the room, sipping on her wine.

How come I can feel her, when she´s over there?

Your thoughts are quickly swap away as you feel something really hard enter your already drenched pussy. And before you can think things through, you felt absolutely nothing in your head, just pleasure. The world seems to align perfectly with Wanda´s and yours desires, creating a warm and euphoric feeling, gentle you could say. Or moan at the current state your in.

You feel like your in a dream. A very good one may Wanda add.

The enormous thing is going in and out of you like it was nothing. Wanda´s eyes are on you as she watches in awe how you didn´t resist at all. How naive you´ve been the whole time. How come little thing like you survived for such a long time in this cruel and scary world by yourself? It´s a miracle and Wanda already knows she can´t risk your well being any much longer. It is just the right time for someone to take care of you. And she´s doing a really good job at it.

As you think nothing can make you feel better, you feel the same wetness that is going in and out of you, sliding up and down your ass. Subconsciously you move, so your in better position for whatever is coming. And trust Wanda, there is always something coming.

It´s way slower and more gentle. Your mind is waiting only for one thing, a slight push. But Wanda wants to tease you for little bit, she wants your body to beg for it, when your head is too foggy to do so. You don´t feel embarrassed anymore, you don´t care. You need everything that Wanda will give you.

Wanda is still sipping on her wine as she watches you struggle, but she is feeling generous tonight, especially when she found you in this poor state, scared, weak, but mostly alone with no one who would saved you, but that will change, starting tonight at this moment.

She let her magic finally push in. As one tentacle is going in and out your pussy at the speed of light, the other one is sliding out of your ass so slow, that you start to move your hips for more. The third tentacle is slowly making its way to your clit, making you feel overstimulated.

And if Wanda was afraid you´ll be overthinking too much, now she knows you won´t ever think again. The sight of you, ruining her expensive couch with your juices is something she will make you do often. Because this is what you´ve been made to do.

You´re close and your voice is cracking from all the screaming you did tonight, Wanda finally stands up, putting her glass on the table and walks over to you, her hand finally touching you and going up and down your stomach as her red tentacles doing their own job. When her hand touches you, it's like a soothing embrace, that is also very harsh. You can feel the warmth radiating from her touch. In that moment, the outside world fades completly away, leaving you with the sensation of her touch.

She knows your close and she would love to see you fall apart, but she knows she can´t rush things. So after few squeezes of your tits and light pinch to each of your nipples, she stops. Completely. Everything. All of her magic disappearing and she makes a step back.

If you´d had any energy left you would scream, but right now, you´re just shaking on her couch. As the cold sensation envelops you, it's as if a thick dark fog descends upon your mind. The chill seeps into your thoughts, causing confusion and a sense of detachment. This cold, fuzzy feeling blurs your senses and creates an unsettling disconnect from the warmth and clarity you once knew. This is totally different from your fuzzy mind before, because at that time you were in pleasure, but now? You don´t have even that.

After a few minutes of you just laying there Wanda takes off your blindfold and you´re back in some clothes, that feels very soft. You blink a few times.

"What´s wrong, darling? You don´t like the new costume I made you?" She shushes you and wipe your falling tears. You look down, touching your new outfit, that honestly looks way better than the one you made yourself. You've got a long, black, flowing dress and a purple cloak with cool silver designs next to you. "I assumed you wouldn´t want a hat, since you didn´t had one earlier. But I made you this..." She gave you a small version of her pitch black journal.

"I- um..." You´re still shaken up from what happened before.

But what even happened before?

"You fell asleep, silly. It was hard to put those on, but look at you now!" Wanda smiles.

I slept?

"You had an intesne dream?" Wanda looks at you with concern and all you could do is just nod.

After a few minutes of complete silence Wanda comes back with a big bag full of sweets.

"Oh my god!" And your little mind is now occupied with sweets. Everything is good now.

"It´s all yours... like I´ve said. Your new outfit will make you bag full of your favorites." Wanda smiles and hands you the bag.

"Oh my god, thank you!" You take it without a beat.

"No, I thank you, darling. You know where to find me if you want more." Wanda winks and you feel this ache between your legs.

"I- uh huh." You nod once again.

As Wanda closed the door behind you, she knew right away, that you will be back soon. She needs you to come back by yourself, if she captured you now, it wouldn’t do a single good. And till that time, her magic will follow you everywhere, to make sure her new thing is safe. And that your mind is always occupied by really important things.

Wanda comes into the living room to clean, she looks at the couch that is still very wet and as she´s in her head a group of people appears behind her.

"How the hell do you always do this, Maximoff?" A tall blonde asks with jealousy in her voice.

"You always have the most naive ones and they literally come to you!" Other lady snarks.

Wanda smiles and turns around. "Well I think that this one will be open for some sharing. Literally." She smirks at her own joke.

Knock knock.

Wanda opens the door and to her surprise it´s you.

"Hai, um... i was thinking- I really like this one chocolate, but i found only one in the bag you gave me so uh, do you have maybe another one? I can trade it for something!" You smile at her.

Wanda is just looking at you with smile on her face. As you came way sooner and she doesn’t know what to say.

"Of course! We have plenty of those here and we will happily trade it with you for something else!" The blonde one almost pushed Wanda out of the way.

"Great! Thanks!" You happily walked back in.

Let´s just say, that after that night you had every sweet you ever wished for. And they had their own.

Oooof this was something. I need to get my writing spirit back, cuz this ain’t it.

Anyways thank you for reading!!!

[dreamofjoys]

DAY 1 KINKTOBER 2023

7 min in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!

Main Masterlist + Rules / Next Day of kinktober

A/N: Please read the rules on my kinktober 2023 main masterlist before proceeding. Rule breakers will be blocked.

Characters involved (separated): Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR)

Sypnosis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it?

C/W: Fem reader, possessive, slight implications of yandere at nanook's part, jealousy, fingering, squirting, begging, praising, overstimulation, luocha having nasty/bad ideas. This story takes place for 7 days (7 fics)

BY OPENING THE TAB BELOW, YOU CONSENT TO READ DC/SMUT WRITING + HAVE READ THE RULES

Day 1 Scenario

"Here's the room that is specially reserved for you. Please enjoy your stay here, my lord and milady." The butler bowed before closing the door to give you and your husband some private time alone. Your eyes sparkled in joy as you take in the magnificent sight in front of you. This was more than a room. It was a grand suite that consist of a living room, kitchen, a master bed room and two guest room. The furniture was decorated in luxurious gold and red colour that was made fitted for royalty. You decided to explore the master bed room first. As expected, you were not disappointed by the results. The whole room was well lighted up due to the floor-to-ceiling windows, which provided a magnificent view to the outside, which is the sea. A king size bed was placed in the middle of the room, with a plush looking set of tables and chairs beside it. There was another door at the side, which you can only assume that it leads to the bathroom. "This place is so cool!" You exclaimed, twirling around in excitement before landing on the bed with a oompf sound. Your husband trails behind you, humming in approval at the service that they were given. It seems like he was satisfied from the abundance of money he had spent on this honeymoon trip. "How did you get to know this place?" You looked at your husband who has taken his place beside you, twirling a strand of your hair around his index finger and thumb. "I did some extensive research to make sure that everything was to your liking." His hand switches to caress your cheek, before sliding down to the plum of your boobs, and further down to the swell of your ass. "What's wrong?" You blinked innocently, trying to the shake off your excitement at your husband's actions, but the wet poolness in between your legs says otherwise. He knows you are aroused when he finally slips a finger into your labia, your slick easily coating him as he starts finger fucking you. "That butler has some nerves to check you out while I right infront of him." You spread your legs wider, eager to welcome your husband's digit while he rambles off about how it's rude to stare at one's wife. "Don't hold back your moans, I need you to scream."

𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗨𝗦 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗜𝗔

He was a god at making you squirm around just by his mere fingers alone, curling it on a "C" motion, deliberately applying pressure onto that one spot that he knows will have you screaming his name out.

"I can tell that the butler likes you." Another finger in and he had you begging him for more. "Ma-malleus! There please!"

"Am I making you feel good? Say it and I will give you more."

"Ye-yes yes!" You start rutting your hips on his fingers, your toes curling when he manages to hit a even deeper and delicate spot inside you. "You make me feel so good! Malleus please!"

Malleus hums in satisfaction at your begging. His free hand toying with your sensitive clit, rubbing it in a fast circular motion, prompting you to release all over his hands as you let out the lewdest and loudest moan.

𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗟𝗬

"Sh-shit-"

"No bad words sweet heart, or else I might throw you into jail. But that would be better right? That way, no man will ever looking at you."

Wriothelesly carefully scissors your hole open, wanting to test how much your cunt can open up just by finger fucking you alone. "Are you tired already? I haven't stretched you to the size of my cock yet." Each time his fingers stretches you open, you whine at the cool air breezing through your vagina, reminding you of how empty it feels inside.

"Want your big cock please-" Wriothlesly raises an eyebrow at your statement, intrigued at your boldness. "Sweetie, if you want me to fuck you nice and good, you need to scream for it."

𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗧𝗢

"Yato, faster please?"

"I can't hear you, dear."

"Fa-faster please!"

"It seems like my hearing is having a problem today. Dear, would you mind screaming what you want out loud?" His fingers were thrusting into you at an agonizingly slow pace, so much so that you want to just fuck yourself on his fingers, but the steady grip on your waist says otherwise.

"PLEASE FUCK YOUR FINGERS IN FASTER, AYATO!" One moment you were screaming at your request, the next moment you were screaming and moaning at his slender long fingers repeatedly pressing onto your sweet spots, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sudden waves of pleasure.

"Mhm, that's more like it." Ayato smiles, feeling satisfied that you had gave in to his teasing once again.

𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗞

The Aeon of Destruction lives only to destroy, and that includes abusing your insides with his whole fist in.

"Na-nanook! We just started. Please hah slow down a little!"

"What for?" He clicks his tongue in annoyance, mind still preoccupied with the filthy butler who dared to look at you. "Im just doing what I normally use to do." The room was filled with the sound of your slick squelching as Nanook fist his hand into you like a punching bag. You wanted to move away from him, feeling overwhelmed by his fisting but he only pulls you back, lightly scolding you not to run away from him.

"Wa-wait, Im gonna-" He groans when he feels your wall tightening around his fist, clear liquid shooting out of your hole and onto his muscular arms. "Did you just squirt on me? Wife, you are really cute."

𝗟𝗨𝗢 𝗖𝗛𝗔

"Soon honey, I know you are going to come any moment now." Luo cha murmurs, seemingly focusing on pleasuring you with his skilled fingers.

"Luo-Luocha, a bit more on the right please! Ah yes, there!" Your high pitch moans drives Luocha insane. He might be burning with jealously at the butler who was previous oogling at your figure, but his focus has somehow switched to wanting to give you the best sexual experience ever.

"Don't hold yourself back, hun." Luocha fiddles with your bundles of nerves, encouraging the knot on your stomach to release and flood over his hands and staining the clean bedsheet with your juices.

A sinister thought of asking the butler to come in and change the bedsheet had appeared in Luocha's mind......

[forgwater]

Bleeding Hearts

~Bleeding Hearts Masterlist~

Vil x (gn)Reader

Warnings: This story contains yandere themes and behaviors.

a/n: I now realize how ironic it is that the randomizer choose Vil for the second fic of the series oof-

The last thing you expected today was to be invited to Pomefiore to provide Vil your help for his artistic pursuits. He’s promised you a reward worthy of your efforts, so how could you refuse such an offer?

Once you pass through the magic mirror, you head towards the ancient apple trees. Majestic green crowns cover you from the Suns prying rays. Their red, richly colored fruits beckon you pick them.

But you must resist.

‘Take a bite’ they say ‘you know you want to’ comes their bewitching remark. It’s enough to leave your cheeks feeling as hot as they are red.

Just-

“There you are.” Vils voice snaps you out of your trance and embarrassment covers you whole. You must’ve taken a while since he came here to find you himself.

“I’m sorry, I-“ but you are interrupted.

“No need for excuses.” He speaks firmly. “I wasn’t fully expecting you to find the pathway I told you about. It’s a bit too hidden for that.”

“Oh…” well, now you feel silly.

“Then, dear prefect, how about you accompany me to our designated meeting place? You are late after all.” The blond sends you a subtle smirk, accompanied only by a quiet chuckle.

“Right. Let’s.” that’s all Vil needed to start walking towards the secret little nook he chose as your meeting spot.

A pathway to the right, a sharp left. Pass this tree and then that tree. Don’t trip on that rock! Really, potato, you need to be more careful.

“Here, hold my hand, that way I can make sure you don’t fall.” You hesitate.

“….Is this really necessary? I’m fine.” Vil didn’t seem to like that very much, if his raised eyebrow is anything to go by.

“I offered.” He takes hold of your hand in a secure yet comfortable hold. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy.” The blond teases. “And only from this little too…”

“Hey!” you fight back. Your dignity’s on the line here!

“A fighting cry from someone flustered by hand holding.” He’s enjoying this a little too much.

Fortunately for him, you’re too preoccupied with his little flirty jabs to tell just how loud and fast his own heart is beating. You haven’t noticed any of that! Have you?!

“This is so unfair.” Oh, you haven’t. Good.

“Oh? Is it? I don’t think it is.~” he plays.

Before you can speak your indignations further, you are met with brick walls. Then a magnificent vine covered entrance. Vil leads you inward and you can tell this used to be a room of some kind, that knowledge now lost to time.

“This is it.” the blond announces. “I picked this place because it will work well for the scene.”

“The scene?” you question.

“We’ll be reciting lines from a script and acting some scenes together.” Vil pauses and then continues quickly “I thought acting together might help my performance a bit… you don’t have to be perfect; you just need to be here. So, don’t think too much of it.” he tries to reassure you. You don’t seem very reassured so he continues his attempts:

“Try to relax. I won’t judge your acting… too harshly.” At the end of his sentence he faces you fully, his hands now on your arms, he slightly smooths over your clothing. “Very well, let us go sit down.”

The grey stone bench fits both of you as you take your places. After you take a deep breath, you are met with a few papers.

“Your lines are highlighted. I want you to read them out loud to me.”

“Shouldn’t I read them silently first?”

“No. I want to hear your intonation as you read the text for the first time.” He insists.

You’ve come this far; you’ve got no choice but to comply. So you begin:

“-You’ve worked so hard… and done so much-…. for us…-” you shift uncomfortably.

“Don’t stop.” Vil commands, his scrutinizing gaze bores deeply into your very being.

“Vil- Is this… are the characters supposed to be in love?”

No answer. The blonds jaw visibly flexes at your inquiry… or maybe at your refusal to continue reading. Quite disobedient, aren’t you?

With his arms crossed, he tells you again:

“Keep reading.” It does not feel like a request.

“No.” you refuse him once again.

“What? Are you afraid of a little text about one’s characters love for another?” he mocks “I thought you agreed to this little rehearsal? Have you changed your mind? Are you backing out?” he barrages you with questions he does not expect an answer to.

“…No. I haven’t.” you bite your tongue.

“Then, read this line.” He tells you simply, pointing further down on the page. You swallow thickly. Vil taps the line impatiently and you can’t look him in the eyes as you try your best to read.

“-…Your qualities, your beauty… seen and unseen-… have made me. Fall in love with… you…-“ your cheeks feel warm and you want the ground to swallow you whole. The air hangs heavy and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“There. It wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Vil takes this moment to redirect your gaze to his own with nothing but his index finger and thumb on your chin. “I can excuse the insincerity. For now.”

What is he talking about?!

You glare, questions obvious on your expression. But, before you can talk, he fixates you with his stare, reducing you to silence.

“You will have to recite it again and again until you can confess sincerely.”

“Confess?!” you splutter.

“Yes. Is that too much to ask of the one I adore?” he accuses more than asks. “I could confess to you myself, but that would break the curse.”

…Curse…?....

“Oh, you didn’t think I’d take chances with this kind of thing, now did you?” Vil closes the distance between the two of you as he whispers in your ear: “Letting you leave me would be my most grave mistake.

He breathes deeply, truly pleased with his accomplishment.

“You are mine.”

[pursuitseternal]

“Maybe we should fight more often…” update to “Bites in the Night:” Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw fight/reunion fic

Astarion x F!Reader |E| 4.7K of fight/reunion sex

Summary: He’s so insufferable when he’s hurt, intense when he’s angry, if only you could find the words to soothe that rage and tell him how you truly feel… And once you do, the reconciliation is just as intense and twice as worth it

CW: Repressed emotions, angst, hunger striking vampire rogue, anti-Gale jealousy, True Feelings Confession Again ™️, sweet snuggles and cuddles, semi-public make up sex, appalled campmates when it’s not so semi-public anymore

Read here if you prefer AO3

“Maybe we should fight more often, my sweet…”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Well,” he sniffs, scanning his sharp, narrowed eyes down you, “look who dragged themselves back to camp at last. Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence again… darling.” He snips, acerbic in tone, his lips pressed firmly, arms crossed in that way that shows his annoyance with you. Astarion shifts slowly on his feet, all ice and disdain as you fumble to remove your armor.

“We’re in one piece if that’s what you’re upset about…” you reply, unable to fight the rising preassure of your own blood, matching his irritation.

“Barely, by the looks of it.” His gaze shifts to Shadowheart, busy healing Gale, his mortal skin spotted with bruises and riddled with slashes and wounds. “But perhaps I should thank you, after all, I’d rather Gale take the beating than ruin these magnificent looks, wouldn’t you agree, darling?” He sounds… caustic. Mean.

You meet his eyes, even as he stares at the wizard across the center of camp. His crimson gaze narrows, his lips draw in a sneer. It’s enough, your bile rises as you return his harsh tone. “Oh, so the rest of us tend to our wounds as you lick your wounded pride, is that it, Astarion?” you hiss. “You’re hurt I didn’t bring you with this time?”

“Wouldn’t dream of being hurt, dear. You’re the fearless leader, after all. I wouldn’t deign to force my many skills on you.” He flashes that wicked, twisted smile at you. “No matter how many of them you have seemed to enjoy to your… benefit before.”

You stiffen. Irate. Irritated so much you could… slap him. Your blood is running high at any rate after batte.

“Tch,” his eyes glance at your balled up fist at your side. “Don’t you fret any, darling, don’t expend yourself any more than you have done… without me. I can take care of… beating myself tonight… besides, your hands look filthy after all that,” he grimaces in feigned disgust, “work. And I, I have my pride, by beauty all in tact.” His hand rests on his chest, his whole body crowding you as he curls inward. So dramatic, so obnoxious.

Your whole frame shakes with your pounding pulse. “I hope so,” you huff. “Since you seem so full of yourself, I doubt you will need to so much as feed a drop from me tonight either.” You can’t help it, taking a single finger and prodding it into the middle of his hardened stomach. “No room in there for anyone else, it seems.”

“Perhaps.” He gives a dramatic wave of his hand, long fingers unfurling so gracefully. “Enjoy waking without feeling lightheaded and aroused, then,” he sneers.

You match his stiff posture, craning your neck to meet his furious stare. “See you in the morning, dear,” you snipe back. Watching as he turns on his heel and stalks into the woods. That rage swells inside you. Hands shake as you struggle to peel the remaining clasps and buckles open. You finally lift the plates from your body, throwing them loudly at your feet with a crash and a guttural scream that tears your throat.

As if the whole camp hadn’t heard your spat.

You bury your face in your hands, anger swirled with sadness tugging at your heart and souring your gut. He would not understand. Not when everything was just so… petty about him. Vain, arrogant bastard. Only thoughts of himself in that beautiful head of his. It makes you sick. Heart sick.

He wouldn’t understand.

Not when you were weak. Your thoughts only about… him. About how you couldn’t face losing him, watching his undead body actually look… dead. Watching his broken frame revived by magic at the last possible moment. Gods, you managed to survive it once. You weren’t sure your heart and soul could make it a second time. So you had to choose, injure his petty vanity, or risk losing him forever.

Now, you had to suffer the ire and loneliness that came with it. But at least he was alive. Your one consolation as you felt some distant stare from the forest line as you crumpled to the dirt by the fire. As if bright, crimson eyes watched as you fell apart.

You could almost feel it in the air between you. A wavering of uncertainty, maybe a single footfall back in your direction at the sight of you defeated.

But then, a hand rests on your shoulder, warm. Mortal. And your heart sinks as you look up to find it is not a smirking, pale elf offering you comfort. No.

It’s Gale. That tepid smile and those kindly eyes. He doesn’t need to say anything. Not that you would hear it. Not with how your ears are trained on the growl from the trees and rustle of something big in the underbrush.

You brush the hand from your shoulder, spending the rest of your night cleaning the blood from your skin. Alone. Sleeping. Alone. And you do wake in complete health, that fuzzy, tingling feeling absent. That slick you wake with down your thighs too, gone.

You sit in your bedroll turning your head to his tent.

But his tent is already packed, neat tidy rolls he might have spent hours making. You wonder how you didn’t hear it, you wonder more if he slept at all with how long he usually takes making sure his effects are perfect for your journeys.

That’s when you see him, carting a chest of his things to the side. His eyes lock into yours for a moment. Intense. Cold. Assessing. Concerned.

Then he breaks away. Whispering something under his breath as he strides away.

You’re still too tired, too… ashamed of how you feel for him. Too frightened to tell him the sharp thorn of truth that threatens to rip from your heart. So you begin the same process. Packing up.

Beginning your journey. Searching down your next potential cure. Day turns to night again with little event. Camp remade. And still he hasn’t said a word.

Only those penetrating looks you barely catch him making at you when your back is turned.

You’ve kept your distance all day from everyone. But you can’t help but feel the heated bristle that comes when your wizard does… anything. Hands you a bowl of fresh-made stew. Asks you directions about which trail to take. But the one that breaks your vampire rogue is when Gale tries to roll out your bedding by the fire for you.

You can almost hear his undead pulse spike, his nostrils flaring with enraged breathing. You turn just in time to see him rip the soft roll from Gale’s hands. Nothing more than a cold snarl on his face as he takes it, sweeping it on the ground with a flourish. Making sure he lines you up within view of his tent, you notice.

He crouches by your bedroll, patting it down, his lithe hands fluffing your pillow for you. That’s when you finally swallow your… pride… your fear of facing him. You tug your shift lower, already stripped down for your long sleep. Wishing the fabric was thicker as you approached him, to where he coiled at your bedside like the hunter he is. Your sweet, ruthless hunter, setting your bed arights. You kneel across from him and catch his cold hands in yours. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Those two words seem to startle him from that red cloud of rage he’s shrouded himself in all day. “For being a decent person, worthy of helping?” he hisses. “So good you can see it when it comes to the little, insignificant things between us. Shame you don’t let that extend beyond.”

“What are you going on about?” you shake your head, feeling his hands clench under yours before he yanks them away.

“Ugh,” he scoffs, letting that wounded tone sharpen his words again. “Like you don’t know, don’t realize how you’ve… undermined me. Leaving me here to wallow and drink while you go headlong into danger…”

He swallows. Loudly. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Words he’s keeping at bay by clenching his fangs hard on his own lip.

“You… you’re hurt I didn’t take you yester…”

He gets up. Eyes narrowed to pinpricks as he frowns at you. “I thought we knew each other better than this,” he… he groans. “I thought you, of all people, knew me better.”

Astarion begins to leave you, you shudder. The reality of so much being said unspoken beginning to dawn on you. You watch as he grabs a book and flops himself down before his tent. That’s when you notice your cleric daring to approach him. Her voice is soft, his is biting and sharp. You watch her stop at a great distance, a question on her voice. You hear his exacting answer of, “No, fuck off. Not even Shar’s favorite princess can help me with this.”

More quiet mumbling. A wary look thrown over her shoulder at you with those concerned, tragic eyes. You watch as she hands him a bottle from her side. But he takes it, sniffs it, and tosses it to the ground at his side. It shatters, glass breaking muffled by its contents.

Even from where you crouch, you smell it. The stale metallic tang of old blood.

“Leave me alone, princess,” he snarls, “with all due respect.”

You watch her leave, Astarion buried back in the pages of his book. But Shadowheart’s look makes your heart leap right into your throat. She doesn’t need to whisper to your ear or your mind. He’s hungry. Refusing to feed. He’s angry, hurt. Irritable. Irascible. Intolerable.

And it’s… your fault. Your fear clutching that truth of how you feel too tightly in your chest. You look down at your hands, how they shake on the ground. Whether from guilt at causing his suffering or the fear of what you have to confess in order to ease it all, you don’t know.

“You know you have to tell him,” that soft, deep voice comments from over your shoulder. “Tell him how afraid you are,” Gale whispers.

You stand slowly, careful not to draw too much attention. Just. Careful. “How..?” you hiss under your breath, sure Astarion hears every beat of your heart let alone the words you try to muffle through your lips.

“I don’t need any spell to know how relieved you were that he was safe here. After all, it was just last week that we almost lost…”

You press a finger to your lips, you can’t even bear to hear that mentioned now.

“Sorry,” Gale mutters. “But you need to give him the truth. With all the lies he’s endured, all that has been kept from him for centuries, you owe him that.”

Breathing, sighing, you feel the weight of your confession growing. “Fine,” you groan, but it’s dramatic, affected. Really, your throat grows tight, your stomach twisting into knots as you turn towards the crimson and rose flaps of his domain.

You stop shy of the entryway, waiting. You know he sees you from his perfect periphery. You can hear his breathing steady, the slow tracing of his finger on the page as he prepares to turn it. But he… ignores you. You clear your throat, earning you a scathing glance from over the tome in his hands. Those eyes hold yours for a second before flashing back down to the page that hides half his face.

“Astarion,” you breathe, “please…”

“Please, what?” he spits through clenched teeth.

You pause, letting your body move instead of your words. You settle on the ground beside him, careful only to get close, not to touch. “I need to tell you something…”

He shuts his book, slamming it to the side as he turns his face fully towards you. You read it all in those etched lines and narrowed eyes. His hurt, his anger, his… worry. “If it’s anything to do with my newly appointed role as camp décor, then…”

“I… I couldn’t risk you…” you interrupt him. “I left you behind because I just can’t risk losing you. Not after what I already have had to do to keep you… to heal you from the other… fights when….” You swallow the rest of the story. Of when he almost died.

That fire of irritation chills, the hard wall of vain hurt crumbles. But the pain remains. “So you took... Gale?” he scoffs. “Gale will protect you? Gale will keep you safe?” He snorts unbecomingly through that handsome nose. “I doubt it. Not like… I would.”

You pause. His resentment, his pain… it was the same as the barbs that needle you with worry. You look into his eyes, that veil of anger melts as he sees how yours pool with tears. It’s so much, this ache you carry. “I’m so, so sorry,” your voice wavers with the unshed tears in your eyes, your throat. “I care too much about you to lose you…”

Those last words get swallowed in a sob. You bite your lip as it trembles.

“Really?” he breathes. Heavy and laden with much more than just a question should hold.

“I don’t know how I could face… anything, everything, without having you with me. That’s why I asked for you to stay behind. To keep you, for myself… That’s how… I feel…”

His eyes flicker over your face, centuries of looking into the faces of liars, a skilled student of deception, he can see it. Your brutal honesty. His eyes soften, his hands, reaching across the span between you to scoop up yours.

“I… feel it too, you know,” he whispers, all those silken tones stick in his throat, leaving his voice rasping and quiet. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do, fighting at your side, to keep you safe, to keep you with me always.” Pain flashes over those sharp features. They harden in that second. “And when you left me… behind… it was punishment. Agony. The massive uncertainty of not knowing if you would walk back in here covered gloriously in the blood of our enemies, or bound up in linens for burial.” His eyes fall to his lap, to where your hands are joined.

Your fingers squeeze his. “I was only… afraid of the same for you.” A sticky, tear streaked laugh comes from your throat. “Besides, we could have used you…”

He lets out a single low giggle, a smirk dancing at his lip as he turns to stare into your face. “Tell me, how badly did Gale fuck up? I want to know… every detail.”

“Horribly, more than words can say,” you giggle quietly.

He… just smiles. That hardened, long-suffering sharpness to his face instantly lifted.

And you… you feel it too. That pulsing comfort between you. His thumb softly stroking over the back of your hand, the inside of your wrist. Little tender brushes that aren’t meant to arouse, but to simply… appreciate.

Just as you feel for him. That little bud inside your heart, threatening to bloom into something more. More feeling, more possession. More… you stop yourself from being swept away by the depth of affection he pours on you, what with those wide eyes and tender smile.

You just wish you could be so much closer to him, to bind up all that pain and suck it from his soul like venom, to bring him into your very being. To meld your souls and share your fates. But, for now, bringing your bodies closer was all you could do, and you slowly shift yourself into his lap. The hem of your shift rucks up, but all you can do is chase that need to press his hard body and hardened soul against your thumping heart.

Instantly, you feel that wiry strength ease in every muscle, his arms wrapping around you softly. He guides your legs around his back, clutching you hard and flush against him. You can feel it, the cool hardness of his pelvis seeping into you, chilling you where you are on fire for him. His hands cradle your hips… you cherish him so close to you, the way his belly presses gingerly against yours with every breath. With a sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder, the top of your head tucked perfectly beneath that sharp cut of his jaw.

“Astarion,” you breathe inhaling his soft citrus scent, so many raw feelings splitting you open. He just shushes you gently, reaching for a soft blanket, wrapping its warmth around your middle. Its supple fabric is so warm, so plush, like everything Astarion keeps for himself, knicking the best, most luxurious things he could carry. The heat from your body seems to bleed into his usually cold and lean frame. For that moment, he just… holds you. As if there was no greater treasure to purloin in the realms than you.

His fingers wrap delicately beneath your chin, guiding you to look back him once more. Wide crimson eyes gaze on you, their soft intensity scanning your face, as if he is committing every detail to his long, ancient, undead memory.

He hasn’t murmured another word, and by the way his throat bobs with rapid swallows, you don’t know if he could if he tried.

The language of your bodies might just have to suffice.

You wrap your legs around him tighter, savoring the way his breath passes down your neck, fluttering over the dip in your neckline. “What is it you wish to feel?” he finally breaks the gentle silence between you.

Your brow furrows slightly, mind racing through so many thoughts… so many feelings and desires. None of them suffice. All of them frighten you.

Finally you force yourself to inhale, that scent of his skin going right to your head. “You,” you finally let a single word form your tightened chest. “All of you.”

You feel his hips shift, pressing his body, the planes of his stomach… and lower… firmly into your own belly.

“Not just your body, Astarion. I wish to feel all of what makes you…”

His eyes narrow slightly. A wince of pain gathering at the wrinkling corners of his eyes. “Some of what has made me who I am will feel… awful, unspeakable…” His voice is harsh as his body stiffens against you, arms gripping tighter in his embrace.

But you hold just as firmly into him, clung around his neck. “I don’t care. It is nothing compared to the pain that would be to lose you…”

Head cocking to the side, he breaks his stare from you. You hear his throat wet, hard swallows as his arms hug you tightly. Ever since your first embrace, he’s never shied from holding you, but this… this feels different. Desperate. Intimate. As if he clings to your soul by clutching the body that houses it.

“Then you won’t lose me, ever,” you barely hear the words. You aren’t even sure if they were meant to be heard. So quiet. Barely more than air from his lips.

Something loud clatters behind you, the smells of roasting meat and stewing vegetables wafting from the distant fire. You startle, trying to crane around to see, but his fingers return to hold your face fast and facing him. Something smolders behind those scarlet eyes now… that glimmer of hunger, a pang in your own stomach at the smell of food, you see its reflection in his gaunt face. But it isn’t food of which he is starved.

It’s you.

You witness that shift inside him, that awakening of the predator as he licks his lips. He pulls that blanket around you tighter. The thick material covers your back as his touch steals behind its curtain.

His hands are searching your body, caressing… exploring. Cold fingers slip into your lap, and you swallow the gasps as his touch brushes over your thighs. Skating higher, racing up your leg.

To find you bared already.

A sultry smirk teases one corner, a single brow arching as he looks into your face. Amused. “You come to fight with your lover so defenseless for… battle? I’m glad I did not underestimate you, darling…”

“I…” you swallow, feeling your cheeks flaming as you realize his fingers only delve deeper into your folds, even as the others in camp mingle around by the distant fire. “I’ve taken to sleeping like this… just in case,” you feel your own prideful, lustful grin turning your lips as he hums his approval.

“In case of what, darling?” He keeps that arrogant smile far enough away to watch your every little expression. “I want to hear you say it,” that honeyed tone sinks into his chest, barely more than a growl for your ears alone.

“In case, you… In case I… ahh,” you have to clamp a hand on your mouth to keep from moaning out loud as his finger hooks right on your clit.

“In case I… ahhhh-maze you with my seduction? In case I ahhh-rouse you with a midnight feeding?” He presses his lips on that column of your neck. Nothing more than a peck, but you can hear your pulse in your ears. “Mmm, speaking of feeding…”

“You could have swallowed that stock Shadowheart gave you,” you tilt your head where the shards of broken green bottle laid beyond the edges of his tent.

“But why should I, when all I want to feed on is right here…” his tongue laps at your neck, his finger shoves deep into your cunt. “To be clear, I mean both these parts of you, darling, in case you missed my meaning… any everything in between…”

You hiss, muffling your sounds of pleasure through bitten lips. “You know I didn’t come crawling over here just to ask you for sex…”

“I know,” he arches a brow in wry amusement at how you grit your teeth to keep from moaning, his fingers playing deeper inside you now. “You were too spitting angry to do that. Call it… a gift, a little something to sweeten our reconciliation.”

“I’d warn you… the others…. Ahh,” you pant mid-sentence as he hooks once more right across your clit.

“Tch, you know I don’t care. They can all watch if they wish. I’m sure it would be most instructive,” his brows furrow for a moment. “Except for Gale, I doubt any lesson would sink into his thick skull.” But his arm pulls that blanket around you tighter again. “But don’t fret your sweet sensibilities,” he gives you that rakish smirk and a gentlemanly nod, “I’ve quite literally got you covered, darling.”

His other hand shifts between your bodies, but you barely notice as you’re too busy feeling that heat and dampness building. His thighs raise your body slightly, and that’s when you feel it… when you realize what he had been busy doing.

As he shifts to have you sink onto his cock.

Your mouth hangs open. You aren’t sure if it’s in shock at his audacity or at just how good it feels to be so… connected after hours rife with separation. Hands grab beneath the blanket, pulling you flush, joining you so fully. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to push him down to the ground and ride him. But you give a shaky exhale.

Astarion smiles widely, his tongue rubbing over his fangs. “Come closer, my sweet,” he purrs, hands shifting your legs beneath you, raising you to your knees.

You groan, feeling the pressing, pulsing friction of his cock inside you dragging as you shift. You tilt your head, presenting your neck, a visible feast for his mouth, as you grind on his lap, almost imperceptibly, filling you to brimming. As you sink once more, his hips giving a slight thrust, his teeth slicing those razor edges into your flesh.

A grunt escapes your lips, loud. You slap a hand over your mouth to hide it as his mouth sucks and swallows, laps and drinks. Your ears train in the distance, but nothing sounds off… perhaps they’re used to you being fed on, by now, it was common enough.

Not as common as having his cock buried deep into your cunt, the rest of them unsuspecting, bustling around the camp. Barely giving you any notice.

He’s giving those little noises as he feeds, so hungry, you feel his lips sucking hard, taking what is his. The tickling of his tongue over your skin, the pursing of his lips hard enough to bruise.

He’s humming his approval, timing it to cover every little sway you make on his lap. Biting your lips, you grind oh, so slowly. Just enough to stir the friction of his cock deep inside you, the curve of his length pulsing and pressing against that tingling spot he sets on fire every time he fucks you.

And each imperceptible grind on his lap catches right on it. He’s shushing you now, bloodied lips grinning like the sated predator he is. So fucking proud of himself. Arrogant at how he’s slipped right in, conceited that no one else knows your dirty little secret.

“You’ll smooth over this little tiff by coming for me, won’t you, darling?” he rasps into your ear. Making you buck, hard and high, wanting nothing more than to feel him pummeling hard and fast into you.

“Yes,” you moan, so softly, “if you do too…”

“I’d never dream of it otherwise, my sweet…”

That’s when something cold steals over your thigh, shoving its way to catch on your clit. Your eyes flash wide, your mouth hangs slack in a silent scream as he circles his finger right over your clit.

“Hells,” you groan, “you want us to get caught?”

“Of course,” he purrs, “if they’ve watched our spat, the least they could do is appreciate our…” gods, he’s circled more of his digits into your honey-dripping cunt, “… reunion.”

“Hgnf,” you grunt loudly… and all your vampire does is laugh and feed at your neck once more. Letting you jounce on his cock at that subtle speed that he’s making increasingly harder to keep.

“Oi… are you both feeding or…” your tiefling’s merry voice is tickled with suspicion.

“Ugh,” Shadowheart’s jewel-toned voice chimes in, “they’re fucking again. Disgusting. Couldn’t even get her inside your tent this time, vampire?”

Your vampire only laughs and licks at your skin, hands now clutched at your hips. He raises you to slam on him now. “Might as well, darling. They sound so happy for us, so delighted we’ve reconciled,” he comments loudly enough for all to hear.

“Well,” it’s Gale’s voice that you catch next, not that you notice much else now but the all-consuming bloom of pleasure that’s taking hold. Now that you buck your hips against his lap with reckless abandon. “It’s better than fighting, at any rate.” He gives a weighed sigh as his voice grows more distant. “Leastways, they aren’t screaming and shouting at each other.”

“Oh,” Astarion gives a mirthful, taunting giggle. “Screaming and shouting can be arranged…”

He leans back against the pillows, grabbing your hands to splay them on your chest. You need nothing more. No quips or instructions or flirtation. You just let you body chase your climax, releasing all those swallowed moans and cries you buried in your chest until you didn’t know if your throat was sore from chastising your rogue, confessing your need for him, or from screaming as that hot bliss of orgasm wraps around you at last.

He’s clenching under you, tearing his nails into your hips, bucking and thrusting and pulsing inside you as he spews his seed deep. Until it drips down to smear on his thighs too.

“Maybe, just maybe…” he pants, rakish, contented smirk on his face as you gaze down at him with lidded eyes and slack smile, “maybe we need to fight more often, my sweet.”

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