#vampire thread mirror

[starvingtongue]

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Astarion When You're Injured•°

On the one hand, oh no, his beloved is hurt.

On the other, gods is he turned on.

Now if you were actually at deaths door, that would be different.

Astarion would be a nervous, furious, tear stained wreck. Worrying that he'd lose the single most important thing in his cursed existence.

The one thing that truly matters in his life. You.

But, if you're injured from just the run of the mill scrapes you get yourself into? Well that's fair game for him to be horny as all hell.

The way you wince when you roll up your shirt, a stab wound gouged into your abdomen.

How the blood trickles down to your breeches and stains your flesh, the crimson glinting in the slant of moonlight coming in from your partially open tent...

He'll feel his pants grow tight.

"Darling, I know you're injured and probably aren't in the mood but I must say you look positively scrumptious right now."

Astarion will watch you like a hawk as you stumble about your tent, looking for alcohol, bandages, a needle and thread.

The way you bite your lip to stifle yet another whimper, the sweet scent of your blood in the air. He licks his lips.

Oh, he could just eat you right up.

"Kitten, you've got to stop whimpering and groaning unless you want me to ravage you this instant."

When Astarion sees you go to clean yourself up though, he'll be absolutely affronted.

"Ah, ah. Don't you dare grab that rag, my dear. Have you forgotten about little old me? I could clean the blood off of you far better."

He'll say, sinking down to his knees before you. Have no fear though, the vampire will lick your wound til not a single leaking drop of your blood is left.

"This really gets you going?"

You'll ask, bracing your hands upon his shoulders for balance, your skin tingling from his attentive mouth. He's so skilled that you've nearly forgotten about the pain. Nearly.

"Well, my sweet, I could do without the you getting stabbed part but how can I resist when you're dripping red in front of me? You don't know the effect you have on me."

Astarion won't be selfish enough to ask you to take care of the little, well big, problem in his pants however.

He loves you dearly and he is here to help, in anyway he can.

You are injured and he understands that what you need from him isn't unbridled passion but sincere affection.

He will offer to stitch you up himself, seeing as your wound is in an awkward position and you can't really see it unless you're in front of a mirror.

The pale elf will tell you to lie down while he practically straddles you to get closer to the afflicted area.

Crimson eyes twinkling, fangs pearly and white as he smiles but he'll be gentle.

Threading through your raw skin carefully and giving your thigh a few affirming squeezes with his other hand when you gasp.

"See, pet? Aren't I just the best lover you've ever had? Flesh isn't so different from fabric and my stitches are perfect, wouldn't you say?"

Afterwards he'll wrap your stomach in bandages and get you anything you need.

Medicine to make you feel better and of course, all the recuperation time you need.

So much so that if the others in your camp need you that he will shove them out of your tent and order them to leave you be.

You'll not be leaving your bed for awhile that's for sure. Not while he's here to act as your nurse.

When you ask him to lay in bed with you, Astarion will give you one of his rare, tender smiles. Genuine with no mischief.

The fact that you need him and want him near is still a marvel to him.

It warms his ice cold spawn heart.

Makes him feel things he hasn't felt in 200 years.

"Oh, alright. My body is yours, in more ways than one."

Astarion will joke, flirtatious smirk slotting back into place along his mouth but he'll slip into bed without a fuss.

Your head resting on his chest, him mindful of your wrapped up abdomen.

Once you've had your medicine, rejuvenating sleep will call to you but before that you whisper how much you love him. Your words quiet in the night, against his ruffled shirt.

He'll hear you all the same and it disarms him.

"I love you too, sweetheart. You have to learn to be more thoughtful of yourself. Can't have you dying on me, now can I?"

Astarion's voice velvet, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back.

In his comforting embrace your eyelids droop, the pain a distant throb that you wish to have pass. His cold chest soothing against your flushed, exhausted cheek.

He'll pull you even closer, if that's possible and kiss the crown of your head.

"Sleep now, darling. I'll be here with you. Always."

[sanguilta]

already selected a few scenes to gif once the episode releases for everyone on sunday.

[acertifiedmoron]

the magnus archives is a romcom—no what the hell it's not. it is, however, a gothic horror romance between jon and elias. because you see, the thing about jonelias is that their canonical dynamic is built around an absurd number of gothic genre tropes. jon sims obviously fits the mold of the tortured gothic protagonist quite nicely who's facing both external (the other avatars targeting him) and internal horrors (his progress as the Archivist weighing on his conscience). but he's also trapped in the gothic manor which is the magnus institute. there are secrets (the place being a temple to the eye), locked doors, forbidden chambers, and bodies in the attic which serve as evidence of past misdeeds (the panopticon; gertrude and jonah's bodies in the tunnels), the institute/archives is ultimately destroyed by fire - purging the gothic manor i.e. the symbolic destruction of the previous order with fire is a common motif in the genre. and jon's work in the archives is haunted by the figurative ghost of gertrude who remains a curious mystery he must unravel and will serve as a constant reminder to jon of his own inadequacies (just like du maurier's rebecca fr)

elias is then —

1) his personal bluebeard figure who murdered his predecessor, a comparison which only gets stronger with the jonah magnus reveal since he's been cycling through archivists for two hundred years, all having met gruesome ends in service to him and jon being his final and most notable choice. are you seeing the maxim de winter rochester imagery. are you.

2) his gothic double. doubles as a literary trope are your hidden self made manifest, the horror lies in the double (elias) revealing the gothic protagonist's (jon) hidden, true self to them. elias as an avatar of the eye is entirely unrepentant for his nature, he revels in it. which is a mirror to jon's own self-flagellation because despite how much he feels torn about his own metaphorical vampirism, he likes it. he admits as much to gerry as early as s3 when asked about his feelings on his ability to compel truths. and why wouldn't he! after being kept in the dark so long, why wouldn't he like it? and jon and jonah had in common their natural curiosity even before they found the beholding. elias is a mirror and jon looks in it and sees someone who is him, but not quite. someone who is what jon would be if he could simply let go, but jon can't. like most gothic protagonists he will kill his double because it is a reminder of a self-truth he can never escape.

and watcher's call. like what even is that. what do you mean that's a thing. what. literally wuthering heights. "why did you heed the call?" // "because this is the place i know i should be" <- normal dialogue to write for two guys definitely not starring in a gothic romance.

^ same genre of images. so the spider, the mother of puppets, the web which is the symbolic representation of narrative thread in the magnus archives universe WEAVED them together? red string fated, that's what they are? so they're soulmates. that's what you're saying. they're literally soulmates. soulmates as existential horror? just enough of an illusion of narrative agency for jonah/elias to claim, "the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose" but paradoxically joined by fate, which isn't a good thing! because no god-like powers of hope, or love, or indigestion, or whatever, only fear. because even though both help the other achieve narrative self-actualisation (elias making jon the archive and jon making elias the king of a ruined world), their union also irrevocably destroys their lives as they hurt each other in deeply personal ways which signify their greatest fears. elias manipulating jon, whose biggest fear is mr spider, i.e. loss of control and jon repaying by being the very thing that kills jonah, who has spent multiple lifetimes trying to escape the end. and that's romance <3

[wheels-of-despair]

The Best $7 Eddie Munson Ever Spent Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: In the fall of 1983, Eddie bought something he thought was cool… but he didn't realize how important it was until a year later. Contains: Uncle Wayne, shopping, time-jumping, snuggles, a little bit of Eddie and Evil Woman's early days. Words: 1.3k

The best $7 Eddie Munson ever spent was at a thrift store just outside of Hawkins, Indiana, in the fall of 1983.

But he didn't know it until a year later.

The night before his Uncle Wayne disappeared for Thanksgiving - the man had worked overtime on every holiday he could, since he'd determined that Eddie could take care of himself - he slapped $40 on the kitchen table between their TV dinners.

"Wha'sis for?" Eddie asked through a mouthful of noodles.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Eddie swallowed and repeated, "What's this for?"

"Sales everywhere on Friday. Go get yourself a new coat, it's supposed to be a bad winter. And a pair of gloves that still has the damn fingers in them. Looks like I'm raisin' a hobo."

"Does not," Eddie mumbled as he swirled his fork around the pasta in his bowl. He liked his old coat… even though it was faded. And coming apart at the seams in a few places. And the cuffs were so frayed, every time he tried putting it on, his fingers got caught in the threads. And there was that hole from when he'd gotten caught on a chain-link fence during a high-speed getaway. But he'd patched it! And the gloves he'd cut the fingers out of were cool!

Wayne looked up from the piece of bread he was buttering to give his nephew a pointed stare.

"Fine," Eddie gave in. "Thanks, Uncle Wayne."

"Yeah, yeah." The old man's eyes twinkled as he waved off his nephew's thanks and took another bite.

Being a practical and frugal-minded teen, Eddie started the search for a coat at his favorite thrift store.

"Hey, kid," greeted George, the store's owner, who barely looked up from the battered Tupperware he was sticking price tags on. "Just got a pile of 8-tracks, haven't even priced 'em yet, you interested?"

"Business before pleasure," Eddie grinned at the gray-haired man. "I come seeking winter-wear."

"Winter-wear, huh? Good call. Heard it's gonna be a rough one."

"Yeah, that's what my uncle said, too," Eddie nodded.

"Check the back wall, might be somethin' back there that'll fit ya."

"Thanks!" Eddie carefully treaded through the crowded aisles of discarded treasures and found the wall of outerwear. He flipped through cheap plastic hangers holding neon windbreakers, matted fake fur, and load of crunchy raincoats that reeked of cheaper cigarettes than his. And then… he found it.

It was long, and black, and it was way too big for him.

But when he put it on and turned around, it swished around his calves and made him feel like a vampire in a cloak.

Eddie walked to the grubby mirror leaned up against the wall and checked himself out. It was whole. Almost new, even. It was warm, and he could easily fit it on over the lighter leather jacket and battle vest he wore year-round. He lifted his arms out, and the fabric rippled to his sides. He reached for the edges and pulled them away from his body, holding them out to see just how big the coat was.

It made him look like a bat.

He lifted the paper price tag attached to a button-hole by a string.

$10? Sold.

He twirled in the mirror, watching the fabric rustle and sway around him like a creature of the night. He held up an arm to cover his mouth, like he was hiding his fangs. Yep. This is it. This is the one.

He took it off and draped it over his shoulder, deciding to see if any cool t-shirts had arrived since last he'd looked. He sorted through the rack quickly. Nothing new, but you can't win 'em all.

Eddie returned to the front with the coat, and George laughed when he spotted it. "Kid, I could fit five of you in that thing."

"I like it," Eddie grinned. "It's roomy. How 'bout those 8-tracks?"

George heaved the box full of newly acquired 8-tracks onto the counter so Eddie could dig through them. It was mostly show tunes and Christmas music, but he enjoyed the hunt nonetheless.

"Nothin'?" George asked when Eddie looked up.

Eddie shook his head. "A Partridge Family Christmas isn't really my style."

George laughed and scribbled ".50 each" on the flap of the cardboard box. "Will you find a spot for that in the front window?"

"Yessir." Eddie picked up the hefty box and walked it to the front of the store. He moved some creepy dolls and nudged a red tricycle aside to make room, placed the box down with the price facing the window, and returned to the counter.

"Just the coat, then?"

"Yessir."

"$7."

"$7?" Doesn't the tag say $10?

"That thing takes up too much room. I can fit four more in its place."

Eddie grinned and passed his cash to the man behind the counter.

"I'd ask if you want a bag, but I don't think I have any I could fit that monstrosity in," George teased as he handed Eddie his change.

"Thanks, George," Eddie laughed and collected his coat. "See ya soon."

"Stay warm, kid."

The morning Wayne came home from his long and tiring holiday stretch, he found far more change than he'd expected on the table, two pairs of new gloves… and a hulking mass of black draped over the back of a chair.

Wayne picked up the coat and held it out in front of him, marveling at its size. Well, it was warm, didn't have any holes in it, and clearly hadn't cost an arm and a leg. He folded it and put it back where he found it, spotting a note underneath the cash.

"Coat was $7. It'll come in handy when I finally become a vampire."

Wayne snorted.

"Gloves were buy one, get one free. I can show you how to cut the fingers out of yours if you want to look as cool as me."

He rolled his eyes at the boy snoring down the hall, put down the note, and started getting ready for bed.

"Why is it so fucking cold? I'm freezing my balls off."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend of three months in the Hawkins High parking lot. Most of the sensible students went on inside when it was this cold, but his girl - who hated this place as much as he did - decided to stick it out with him outside until the bell rang and forced them in.

"Shut up, you know what I mean." Her eyes rolled and her teeth chattered.

He checked his watch - seven minutes before the bell - and took one last drag off his cigarette. He exhaled as he dropped the butt on the ground and put it out with a twist of his boot.

"Wanna go in?"

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. Stubborn.

"C'mere, then." Eddie unbuttoned the massive black coat he'd bought the year before - now decorated with band buttons on the lapels - and held it open to her. Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Come on," he urged.

She looked at him suspiciously. Shit, was this weird? Was inviting your girl into a coat cocoon more of a six-month thing? And then she walked into him. He wrapped his arms and his coat around them both and felt her relax against him almost instantly. She slowly slid her arms around his middle and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Oh god, oh god, did she just nuzzle her cheek into him?!?

Eddie was glad she couldn't see the grin on his face. He tilted his head down and let his hair fall around his face so no one else could see it either. He leaned his cheek against her head and inhaled the scent of her, closing his eyes and wishing the bell would never ring so they could stay just like this forever.

What had George said the day he bought this coat? That he could fit five people in there?

Eddie was quite happy with just two.

[starryjuicebox]

Pull My Strings

Pairing: (Soft) Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1k Warning: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Creampie. Fluff and smut.

Summary: A special day in your life with Astarion.

Another day in paradise—the sun kisses your pale skin as it greets the world in a dazzling hello. Beside you, your lover stirs, opening a bleary crimson eye. “Good morning, darling.” 

You run a hand through his soft white curls, laughing a little. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

While Astarion didn’t really “sleep”, over the many years you had been together, he seemed to have grown more relaxed in his trances with you by his side. 

Unlike you, he was still very much not a morning person; evidenced by his burrowing back underneath the cozy covers of your shared bed. You cuddle up to him, frigid skin absorbing the warmth from his body. Long since used to this behavior (though he had nearly jumped out of his own skin the first time you snuggled after his ascension), he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head. 

“It’s a special day today,” you tell him excitedly. 

He merely hums in response, stroking your hair. “Is that so? And what’s so special about today?” 

The nerve! How could he have forgotten? You stare at him, mouth open, before turning away. The two of you had lived together for so long, why had he forgotten this year? Throughout the millennia that you and Astarion had lived in Baldur’s Gate, you had witnessed the rapid advancement of technology and society. The world around you changed so much, but every year on this day, he always had something special planned just for you. 

Astarion’s hands come to rest on your hips, before pulling you flush against him. You can feel the hard outline of his length pressing into your clothed core. “My love, what’s gotten you so upset?” Astarion croons into your ear, grinding against you. 

Your lips curve downward into a pout. “I’m struggling to come up with an idea for my next book. I was supposed to announce the summary today.” 

That was only a half-truth. While inspiration did elude you for the time being, your lover’s ignorance was a far greater crime. You celebrated your birthday together every year, and yet Astarion seemed to have completely forgotten this time! 

“We could come up with some…ideas together,” his voice drips with honey as he pinches one of your nipples through the fabric of your nightgown. 

Frowning, you push his hands away and sit up. If he wasn’t going to celebrate your birthday with you, at least you could get some work done. That would mean spending your day productively, even if your stupid vampire lord husband had forgotten. 

Grabbing your tablet off the nightstand, you open a document and begin typing out some potential story threads in an impromptu brainstorming session. Sex pollen, maybe? Ugh, no. That one had already been done plenty of times. Beach sex? No thanks, just thinking about sand in your vagina made you cringe. 

“That’s a ‘big ass’ iPad, my dark consort,” Astarion says, interrupting your thoughts and looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing. Though his speech and mannerisms did not change no matter how much time passed, you did try to do your part in teaching him the more…updated lingo. 

You stifle your laughter. “A present from you, two years ago.” 

A birthday present to be more precise. 

Despite your hint, Astarion the Ascendant Ignoramus does not seem to get it, and merely hums. 

You stare at the document. The mostly blank page stares back at you. 

“Fuck it,” you grumble, powering off the device. You couldn’t just will good ideas into existence, so you might as well get a start on the day. 

Heading over to the massive walk-in closet, you gasp as a beautiful ensemble greets you. A red and black corset dress paired with a puff-sleeved bolero jacket hangs neatly in front of the mirror. Both pieces are exactly your size, and have clearly been designed with you in mind. Matching platform boots with a silver bat accessory sit beside the outfit, and you scratch your head. How long has this been here? You call out over your shoulder, “Hey, when did you get this for me? I love it!”

“Anything for you, my darling,” comes his cool response. Your question remains unanswered.

“Well…thank you.” This was certainly a surprise, but since he hadn’t even mentioned your birthday, it surely was a fluke. Astarion often surprised you with random presents anyway. Once upon a time, the gifts had been difficult for you to accept, but over the years, Astarion had worn you down. Spoiling you was very much one of his love languages. There were never any strings attached, and no expectation of something in return. 

You try on the outfit, and it seems to have been tailored exactly for you. A very tiny ‘A.A.’ is stitched onto the inside, and warmth floods your heart. Astarion hadn’t just ordered the clothing for you; he’d made it. That made the present all the more special. 

When you walk over to the vanity, a brand new eyeshadow palette immediately catches your eye. Suspicion floods your mind. What is going on? The brand is one of your very favorites. Most of the palette consists of beautiful neutral colors that match most of the clothing you own, but there were also gorgeous duochrome shades as well. 

“Sublime, just like you, darling.” 

You whirl around to see Astarion leaning against the wall with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“What’s the occasion?” Did you dare to hope that he had remembered? 

“There has to be a special reason to give my treasure gifts she deserves?” 

The disappointed sigh in your throat is swallowed down. It wouldn’t be right to seem ungrateful, after all; these were really thoughtful presents. “Thank you.” 

Carefully fixing your makeup (and definitely indulging in the brand new palette), you turn to select your favorite perfume and gasp softly. An unfamiliar heart-shaped pink glass bottle only labeled “Little Love” grabs your attention. A soft voice whispers in your ear, “smeared lipstick and warm, flushed skin—vanilla, orris root, violet, sugar, cetalox, skin musk, and safraleine. Scents that remind me of you, my love. Go on, give it a try.” 

Spraying some on your wrist, you delicately sniff the concoction. “Oh!” It smells exactly as Astarion had described. You love it. 

“I made it; I really did miss my calling as a perfumer,” he drawls, examining his nails. 

“...Thank you.” You didn’t want to inflate his already massive ego any more, but these presents were really nice. It was also pretty strange that they appeared all at once. Did you just miss them before? That wouldn’t be possible, right? 

Dabbing the perfume on your other wrist, you carefully close the bottle and stand up to fix some breakfast. 

“No dry oats for you today, darling. I already have something just for you.” 

How had he reached the kitchen ahead of you? Astarion stands there, holding a massive cake, topped with a single candle. Three tiers of rainbow-flecked vanilla birthday cake, layers of creamy frosting and crunchy crumbs, each topped with rainbow sprinkles. It is absolutely ridiculous to just have between the two of you. But it’s your favorite, and you know he ordered it just for you. 

“Happy Birthday, my dear.” 

Your hands fly to your mouth. The silly man was just pretending he had forgotten all about your birthday this whole time? 

While you are busy contemplating how to both smack and kiss him at the time, he pulls you into his arms and sits down, placing you onto his lap.

“Open your mouth, little love.” 

Astarion cuts a slice of cake for you and feeds it to you. It tastes like a little piece of heaven. 

“...I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit, after swallowing the bite of cake. 

“Oh, you wound me!” He places a hand on his chest theatrically. “I would never forget such an important day.” 

You smile at him. Other than his nonchalant behavior earlier today (which had clearly been just to tease you), he was right; he had never forgotten any of your birthdays. 

After you finish the slice of cake, he places the rest of it into the refrigerator. “Now, pet, let’s play a little game.” 

“Oh? What game?” 

Over the course of the millenia you had been with him, there were all sorts of little games and activities you two had to keep things fresh and interesting. 

“You’ll try to chase me, and if you catch me…I’ll give you another present.” 

You nod. “It’s on, then.” 

This would be a breeze for you; you had always been faster than him to begin with. 

His lithe form shifts into one of a small black bat. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” You cry out, as Bat-starion takes off flying back towards the bedroom. Keeping up is a walk in the park for you, but he stays just out of your reach. “Hey!!!” 

Pouting at him, you take a running leap and grab the bat with both hands, landing perfectly on your feet. 

“Gotcha.” 

Soft fur ripples back into warm flesh as Astarion returns to his regular form. “Well done, my dear. As promised…another present.” A pink candy is pressed against your lips, and you open them to taste the sweet and tangy flavor of berry lemonade… your favorite! 

Eyes widening, you look at him. 

“I did order several tubes of these, but I hid them around the palace. You’ll have to go find them yourself later. Now, there is one last present for you.” 

“What is it?” 

You had already gotten a new outfit, makeup, perfume, cake, and candy. What else could Astarion have possibly gotten you? 

“Me.” 

Stepping away from you with crimson eyes glinting, his pale fingers slowly unbutton his jacket. You don’t need to breathe, but find yourself holding your breath anyway. 

His jacket becoming a red and black silken heap on the carpet, Astarion then begins removing his shirt. Inch by inch, the smooth, pale chest you are all too familiar with is revealed to you. 

The dress pants are next. Astarion leisurely unbuckles his belt, before sliding the trousers down his perfect legs. 

“Precious thing; you always stare so eagerly,” he teases you with another smirk, palming his thick length through the fabric of his underwear. 

“Well, you are putting on quite the show. Now, are you going to give me my present, or do I have to take it myself?” 

He chuckles. “My, my. So impatient.” 

You cross the room to rest your forehead against his, before pressing your lips together. Sliding his hands into your hair, he deepens the kiss, before pulling away and gently nipping your bottom lip. “Good things come to those who wait.” 

“Well, it’s my birthday. And I want good things without waiting.”  

Closing the distance between you once more, you claim his lips in another kiss. 

The floor beneath you falls away as you are swept into his arms. “Oh, I can refuse you nothing.” 

He tosses you gently onto the soft bed. Astarion may be well-versed in keeping a cool and collected facade, but you’ve been his lover for over a thousand years. The man is just as eager as you are. 

Crawling atop you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss, he palms your breast through your clothing. You can feel your nipples stiffening, eager for his warm touch. Astarion kisses down your throat and chest, unfastening the corset along the way. 

He gently nips at your hardened peak with his teeth, before latching on and sucking hard. You moan, running your fingers through his soft hair as he moves onto the other nipple.

“Take me now,” you pant at him. He’s already made you wait for so long.   

“As you wish.” Moving back up to meet your lips with his again, deft fingers push your lacy panties aside. Astarion slides into you with one smooth, confident thrust. 

You groan in unison as he sets a punishing pace, likely in part caused by your impatience. Your walls flutter around his thick cock as he snaps his hips into you. Locking your ankles behind his hips, your nails dig into his back. Each thrust brings a familiar stretch, and you love every second of it. Your bodies slot together like perfect pieces of a puzzle, born from so many years of lovemaking. He knows your body as well as his own.

Reaching between your bodies, he rubs at your clit with practiced fingers. You’re close. So close. A spark of pleasure rising to dizzying heights. 

“Come for me.” 

You shatter. There is nothing but the wave of ecstasy washing through you. 

His hips stutter as he follows you with a groan. Warmth floods your insides as you lay there, panting from exertion.  

“Now let’s freshen up and greet the day, my love. Here’s to another year in our eternal lives.” 

You decide that tonight, you’ll go for round two. 

[elisacaleisa]

HELLO!

I made an interactive thread on Twitter to make yourself/sona/oc in REDACTEDVERSE! YEAH!

I wanted to do it the same was here too, but it's only 10 pictures per post. >:(

So tumblr version will have a link and text only, to have everything in one place, sorry! /lh

Scrolling further, there is Tumblr version!

Twitter link:

YOUR POWERS - BASED ON YOUR BIRTH MONTH

JANUARY - Elemental

FEBRUARY - Seer

MARCH - Psychokinetic

APRIL - Illusory

MAY - Dreamwalker

JUNE - Warder

JULY - Stealth

AUGUST - Vampire

SEPTEMBER - Energetic

OCTOBER - Telepath

NOVEMBER - Shifter

DECEMBER - Freelancer

---

YOUR SPECIFIC POWER - BASED ON YOUR BIRTH DAY:

(if elemental/energetic)

1-11 - Air Elemental, Electro Energetic

12-17 - Fire Elemental, Graviton Energetic

18-24 - Water Elemental, Magneto Energetic

25-31 - Earth Elemental, Sonal Energetic

---

YOUR SPECIFIC POWER - BASED ON YOUR BIRTH DAY:

(if shifter)

1-3 - Primate Mammals (Lemur, Monkey, etc)

4-7 - Reptiles (Lizard, Snake, etc)

8-11 - Hoofed (Deer, Horse, etc)

12-15 - Fish (Shark, Eel, etc + exception of Dolphin)

16-19 - Bird (Parrot, Crow, etc)

20-23 - Canine Mammal (Wolf, Dog, etc)

24-27 - Feline Mammal (Lion, Cat, etc)

28-30 - Rodent Mammal (Rabbit, Mouse, etc)

31 - Other Unmentioned Mammals (like Raccoon, Hedgehog, Bear, Skunk, etc)

---

YOUR HOMETOWN - BASED ON YOUR BATTERY PERCENT

0-15% - McKinley

16-30% - Kennedy

31-45% - Borden

46-60% - Dahlia

61-85% - Mont Blanc

86-100% - Duke

---

YOUR JOB - BASED ON YOUR FAVORITE COLOR:

(or the color of your shirt if multiple or no fav)

RED - 7/eleven

ORANGE - Academy Staff

YELLOW - Max's Rustic Pizza

GREEN - CloseKnit

BLUE - E.M.T.

PURPLE - Shaw Security

PINK - Vesta Distribution Company

BLACK/GRAY/WHITE - Department

---

BORN AS - BASED ON YOUR DOMINANT HAND:

RIGHT-HANDED - Magicborn

LEFT-HANDED - Humanborn

AMBIDEXTROUS - Free choice!

---

YOUR LOGO - BASED ON YOUR (SUN) ZODIAC SIGN's ELEMENT:

(the one on your birthday, most recognized zodiac sign)

AIR (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) - Jewelry/Accesories (Earrings, Rings, etc)

WATER (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces) - Technology (Laptop, Game Console, etc)

EARTH (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) - Weapon (Crossbow, Sword, etc)

FIRE (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) - Home Decor (Mirror, Bookshelves, etc)

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END OF SILLY FUNNY HAHA THREAD! HAVE FUN!

[marshmallow-phd]

A Manor of Shadow and Blood

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won’t let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

**

The grand hall was lit as bright as midday. Every surface was polished to perfection, reflecting the candlelight at a greater force. Brilliant brass and gold surrounded you as you made your way through the dancing couples, their movements in perfect sync. Wrapped in each other's arms, they spin around without a care for your wandering presence. 

While all who surrounded you were decorated in blacks and whites, your own dress was the color of freshly spilled blood. The heavy skirts that hug from your waist made it difficult to navigate the ballroom. Their fullness was of an older fashion, one that maybe your grandmother would have worn in her youth. The dropped shoulders left you exposed, your skin chilled despite the amount of bodies in here. 

You kept navigating the dance floor, on the look out for something, though you didn’t know what. Then you felt the familiar burn of eyes boring into your back, which sent a shiver down your spine. You whirled around to find the source, the dress brushing at your feet with the sudden motion. Through the crowd, you spotted Baekhyun leaning against the wall. With a single finger, he beckoned you over. And you obeyed. 

Breaking through the sea of dancers, you took in his elegant suit, the hems lined with gold thread that shimmered against black velvet. 

"You shouldn't dance alone," he purred. Arms crossed over his chest, he smirked at you with a grin even the devil wouldn't wear.

"I have no partner," you retorted. He held out a lazy hard. Hardly the romantic gesture. "No, thank you." 

"How about me?" asked a sweet voice in your ear. 

You turned your head to find Junmyeon at your back. He laid a soft hand on your hip to keep you from escaping out of propriety. When you didn’t shove him away, the hand slyly moved to your stomach, pulling your bare shoulder blades into his chest. With the fingers of his left hand, he tilted your chin towards him. 

"Am I a suitable partner?" 

No answer passed your lips. You could think of nothing to say. The thought of him twirling you around the dance floor was not… unpleasant. 

Junmyeon neither needed nor cared for a reply. He dipped his head to your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the skin. A small gasp passed your lips. And then he pressed another. More and more as he climbed up the curve of your neck. Heat rose from every inch of you as you sighed into the affectionate touches. You relaxed into his touch, welcoming each new contact of his lips. 

"It's rude not to share, Junmyeon.”

Your attention snapped back to Baekhyun, who you had forgotten was there. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to you so he stood in front of the minor. 

No, not a mirror. There was no reflection. 

Except… there was. The mirror reflected the floor, the ceiling, the candlelight. You. 

But not Baekhyun. Not Junmyeon. And not the dancers still spinning behind you. 

Fingers snaked through your hair and pulled your head back, your vulnerable neck exposed. From the gallery above, Kyungsoo watched as elongated fangs flashed behind Junmyeon’s lips and plunged into your neck. 

*****

You woke with a start, the blanket flying off of you as you sat up in a fury. Sweet drenched every pore of your skin. Your day old dress clung to your skin in a way that felt suffocating. Each breath was a struggle for your lungs. 

Vampires. The nightmarish tale that had kept you up as a child until you were convinced they weren't real turned out to be true. But how could they be real? 

Creatures of the night. Blood drinkers. Horror stories meant to keep children from wandering about after dark. 

Curling your legs to your chest and encasing them in your arms, you tried to think of a way out. To escape. With what strength you possessed, you slid off the bed and walked over to the window. The sun, so bright and full of life, was just beginning its descent towards the horizon. Night–their domain–was hours away. If the legends were true, then they would all be asleep at this moment. Any risk that was to be taken had to be taken now. 

After changing into a sturdier dress, you retrieved your still mud-covered boots and, keeping them in one hand, you carefully pushed away the pathetic barrier and snuck out of the room. 

Each step was taken with unmatched caution. You tested every board with your foot before fully committing. Any squeak of a floor or stumble down a stair could alert them to your escape. But by the grace of a miracle, you made it to the front door. Fingers trembling, you pulled on the boots and tied up the laces before opening the door only wide enough for you to slink through. 

The next breath taken outside was like the first breath of life. But there was no time to take it in. 

Gathering your skirts in your grip, you took off into the trees. The dirt was dry and sturdy under your feet. Branches and leaves crunched with the weight of your boots. A lady’s delicacy was out of the question as you ran without abandon. You didn't know what direction you were running. But vampires needed blood to survive and they weren’t drinking yours. And Jongdae had brought those buns from a bakery, not their own kitchen. You doubted any of them knew how to cook. That meant a village or town had to be nearby. Junmyeon had lied about the isolation of the manor. If you just kept going, you could find freedom. 

However, your stamina was running out. This was never your preferred activity. Your lungs and throat burned in an unfamiliar way. The sun still shined above. A short respite could be spared. 

You leaned against a tree trunk for support. In your boots your feet pulsed. Only now did you realize that you had run away without food or water. Not knowing where the kitchen was located, you didn't have time to waste on it. You could survive, you told yourself. Just a little farther. The town couldn’t be too far. Unless you were headed in the wrong direction. 

A rustling rippled through the silent forest. You snapped to attention, trying to find the source. 

“The wind,” you gasped between ragged breaths. “It had to be the wind.” 

A low, rumbling growl said it wasn't wind. 

In the distance, large silhouettes emerged. Wolves. Nearly a dozen of them. 

You ran as fast as your crying legs could take you. With their superior nature built for the hunt, the wolves caught up to you within seconds. Their growls and howls grew louder and more threatening behind you. Running from the manor had been easy. Running from the wolves was to be your end. 

Powerful paws slammed into your back. You were thrown to the ground, rolling across the ground as a scream ripped at your throat. The momentum stopped you on your stomach. Hair covered your face, but you could still see your death through the strands. 

Wolves of gray and black gathered in a half moon circle. They had their prey in perfect position. The middle wolf pounced. All you had time to do was throw up your arms to protect your face. Claws raked across your forearm. Another scream echoed through the merciless trees. The wolf landed on the other side of you with pride. Now you were surrounded. A second wolf leapt. 

A blur appeared in front of you and collided with the wolf midair. The two bodies tumbled across the forest floor. A human and the wolf. 

Not a human. 

Chanyeol. The wolf trapped within his grasp, Chanyeol tightened his grip–

Crack. 

The wolf fell limply to the ground, its tongue hanging from its jaw. 

The others appeared seconds later. Not understanding what they were up against, the wolves let you go to attack the newest threat. 

"Are you alright?" Junmyeon knelt down in front of you. His hands were outstretched as if you were the wild animal on the verge of attack. Behind him, snarls and whimpers told of the fight–and who was winning. Despite not answering him, he caught sight of your bleeding arm. "We need to get back to the manor." 

He didn't ask permission before picking you up into his arms and sprinting through the forest. Everything blurred past you, your loose hair whipping at your face. He burst through the manor doors and didn't stop until he was able to set you down in the largest chair. Once you were safe, he fell to his knees, only his palms keeping him upright. The others soon stumbled in behind him, heaving and collapsing onto the floor. Only then did you notice the smoke floating up from each of their backs. Patches of burnt, red skin sizzled on their knuckles and faces. Anything that had been exposed to the sun. 

"Baekhyun," Junmyeon gasped. 

"I already have it." Kyungsoo came into the parlor with bottles stacked in his arms. He quickly passed them around, waiting until the others were quenching their thirst before pulling the cork out of his own bottle and chugging the contents. 

With his bottle empty, Junmyeon tossed it to the side and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Red smears stained the ivory fabric. You shrank back in the chair as he turned towards you. 

"What hell were you thinking!" He growled. "I warned you about the wolves!" 

"Junmyeon, she's shaken up enough," Jongdae defended. Before your eyes, his burnt skin healed to be like new.

"She could have been killed!" 

Your head was pounding. He was… concerned about your life? The legends said that the sun was a vampire's deadliest enemy. It was why they thrived in the darkness. But they had all risked a final death to come after you. 

"Did you hear me scream?" you whispered. You could barely feel your own lips moving. All heads tuned to you. 

Yixing was the one to answer. "Yes. We all heard you." 

"Why were you out there?" Sehun asked aggressively.

You sucked in a sharp breath. There was no escaping the truth now. You stared at Jongdae. "I figured it out.” 

Baekhyun laughed. "At least we don't have to walk around delicately anymore." 

"When exactly did you do so?" Minseok mocked.

"Then you should remember what I said to you before was true. Harm would not come to you within these walls." Junmyeon crouched down next to the chair. His eyes... there was something behind the darkness that tugged at your still wildly beating heart. "I know you were running away. And if you're desperate to get away enough to get yourself killed, then the choice can be yours. We can send you on your way with every provision. Or," he cleared his throat, "you stay here. With us." 

A choice? He was giving you a choice?

Your gaze drifted over the faces that stared back at you. Even Kyungsoo refused to look away while he waited. There was almost a plea in his expression, a subtle beg. But was it to stay? Or for you to run as far away as possible? 

Junmeyon took your attention away when he picked up your wounded arm with delicate fingers. His pleading was much more clear. 

To leave would be the better choice. The more sane choice. But what would happen afterwards? You could claim being lost in the woods. With evidence of the carriage and the missing driver, what else could they believe? After a few days on bed rest, you would be back by your aunt's side, following her every whim. Including indulging her on a "perfectly adequate" suitor because you had no other option, no other path. That suitor who would then become your future. But you didn't want it. You refused to give in to it. 

Already within these few days, you were… changed in a way. They might not be human, but these men would forever be burned into your memory. Who could move you with music the way Chanyeol had? What silent strength could match the aura of Junmyeon? You had been promised that none of them would harm you. The chance for something extraordinary was right in front of you. The kind of chance you had only read about. It just had to be taken.

"I think… I think I want to stay."

*****

The moon became an ever changing friend. You hardly saw the sun anymore. Like the men you had given yourself over to, you lived under the stars. It was oddly beautiful. This time was often forgotten about by you and many others. The night was only a background to your time within your dreams. But now it was your entire world. 

Every evening, you awoke to the dying orange light of the day. Breakfast always waited for you outside the door. It was the rule that no one broke; none could enter your room without explicit permission from you. Those walls remained your safe haven when things grew too overwhelming. 

Despite your decision to stay, discovering that other creatures walked the earth required a step away once in a while. Especially now, with you aware of their true nature, the men were refusing to hold back. 

Dropping from the roof, running around with spectacular speed, and lifting objects that ten men couldn't hold. It was remarkable. Except for the diet and inability to walk in the sun, the… condition seemed more like a blessing.

"You're rather thoughtful this evening,” Jongdae commented. He walked beside you like he did every twilight. 

After you finished your breakfast, you met Jongae at the front doors to go on a walk around the manor grounds. Often others would join you as well. Junmyeon was the most frequent, though Yixing, Changed, and Jongin made many appearances over the past week and a half. Boundaries were constantly tested, but one word from you and they retreated.

"I guess you could say I am thoughtful tonight," you finally sighed. You hadn’t realized that you were being so obviously quiet. Funny, since you would have thought Jongdae would enjoy the silence. You typically had many questions or comments of your own to make. 

"Should I go steal a penny from Sehun?" 

You laughed. "I'd like to think my thoughts are worth more than a single penny.”

"They must be if you've become so skilled in deflecting from them." He crossed over to block your path. Gaze narrowed, he studied your carefully guarded expression. "What are you thinking about so hard? Regretting your decision to stay already?" 

"No," you insisted. "Not at all."

He raised an eyebrow that simply asked, "Then what?" 

"Do you always stay here?" you countered. "At the manor, I mean." 

"We travel," Jongdae answered with a nod. "Not too often. It’s a bit difficult, you see."

"But we like traveling north.” Minseok dropped from who-knew-where, landing with barely bent knees and hands folded behind his back. "In the winter, the night lasts longer. Junmyeon has a small hunting lodge up there. 

A hunting lodge? "Then why do you stay here?" 

Minsoek shrugged. "This manor is bigger." 

"Having nine of us in one household can be a bit volatile,” Jongdae added. He stepped aside to continue the stroll. "We need the room to separate so we don't level a building." 

Your foot caught on an invisible lump in the grass. "You could destroy a building while fighting?" 

Minseok snickered as he caught your stumble and helped steady your stance. His hand lingered at your waist until your sharpened glare made him remove it. "We haven’t crumbled a wall in a few years."

You scoffed at the casual tone. "What sort of fight caused that?" 

"I can't remember." Minseok leaned forward slightly to look at Jongdae for help. But he didn't seem to recall either. 

"Who knows what started it between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had fought over something to the point of destroying a wall to crumble? It didn't feel plausible. Neither seemed like the hot-headed sort. You wanted to know the igniting incident so desperately. 

Both Jongdae and Minseok suddenly whipped their heads towards the front of the manor. 

"What is it?" you asked when neither offered an explanation. 

"Junmyeon's calling for us." Jongdae scooped you up into his arms without warning. At your confused expression, he explained, "We're not leaving you alone out here." Remember your last adventure in the woods lingered in the silence.

The short lived wind whipped at your hair that you still wore loose to cover your neck. As soon as he stopped running, you wiggled out of his arms to be back on your feet. Everyone else was already gathered just outside the door. Several eyed you and Jongdae with suspicious and annoyed glares. You took a step away from him for some separation. 

Clearing his throat, Junmyeon called everyone to attention. "We have to go hunting–real hunting. Now, normally, we all go together, but now that we have our guest," he nodded towards you, "some will have to stay behind with her until the first party… comes back." 

"If you all need to go,” you couldn't quite speak the word feed, "then I'll be alright. For a few hours, at least." You weren't sure how long this excursion would take.

Junmyeon's features softened. "No. We'll go in groups. Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, Minseok and I will go first. We shouldn't be gone long." He reached out and patted the top of your head before disappearing into the trees. Kyungsoo gave no goodbye as he followed suit. The last two playfully shoved each other while taking off. 

"Come." Yixing took hold of your hand and started pulling you inside. "I want to show you something."

"But–" You had wanted to ask Jongdae a question, but the traitor was already gone, off somewhere to do something he would never tell you about. So, you let Yixing take you into the manor and up the main staircase at the end of the hallway. At least he let you stay on your own feet instead of insisting on going at his speed. 

Going down an unfamiliar hallway, you were reminded how big this place was and how much you still had to explore. The men occupied most of your time, vying for your attention and pulling you this way and that so you didn’t have much time on your own. It was odd and overwhelming at times. 

During your seasons in town, you were hardly a well-sought after prize. There were prettier girls with grander dowries. You had accepted that fact. Now you were the center of a courting dance to which you knew none of the steps and possessed endless partners. 

Yixing paused in front of a door that looked identical to all the others. He kept his fingers tight around yours as he slowly turned the knob with his free hand. The door swung open. 

The gasp inhaled through your parted lips wasn't enough to convey your awe. 

Maps of all the places you'd heard of and dozens more you hadn't covered the walls like homemade wallpaper. Slipping out of Yixing's grip, you walked further into the study, spinning slowly around to take it all in. The maps were varying degrees of tan, some as light as his skin, others as dark as animal leather. 

Instead of bookshelves, doorless cabinets waist high lined three of the walls. Their squared shelves were stuffed full of parchment and ink and quills. A lone sketcher's desk sat in the middle, an unfinished drawing laying against the tilted surface. 

"What is this place?"

"It's my personal study," Yixing answered as he laid a hand on the edge of the desk. "Kyungsoo gave it to me after I had accidentally taken over one of the parlors." 

Your awe increased ten-fold. Your initial assumption was that he was a collector, not the original artist. "You drew all of these?" 

He nodded almost... shyly. "I did. I was a cartographer. Before." 

"Before?" You understood what he meant, but you didn't know how to ask for the story. 

Turning his eyes to the parchment, he pinched it between his fingers. "I didn't just love traveling. I loved capturing it on paper. I wanted to make these places into art, but not like every other painting. I wanted them to be perfect. Exact replicas as if you were staying at them from God’s point of view. And I wanted to be the best. I couldn't be, though. I wasn’t good enough." 

You moved closer to him, entranced in the story. "What happened?"

A rueful smile tightened at his lips. "I was given a chance to become perfect. What I didn't know was that I traded everyone knowing my maps for the talent to make it happen." Sorrow rolled from him like the tide warning of an oncoming storm. 

Feeling the pull to comfort him, you reached out and covered his fidgeting hand with your own steady fingers.

"People will be able to know your work some day," you whispered. "I’m sure of it." 

Perhaps you had been a bit too forward, a bit too open. 

Yixing moved gracefully forward to eliminate most of the space between you. A smooth thumb that once must have been calloused when it was human caressed the edge of your jaw. His flickering eyes made intentions obvious. 

Clearing your throat, you stepped out of the touch. "Why isn't this one finished?" You pointed to the drawing on the desk. It was an aerial view of the manor, with the top half of the parchment containing the beginning edges of the garden hedges. Disappointed, Yixing sighed and went along with your distraction. 

"I'm still working out the maze. It is intricate. Much more than I was prepared for." 

"Goodness." You were thankful that you hadn't wandered in there yet, especially on your own.

"Yixing.” 

Both of you turned towards the door to find Sehun standing under the frame. 

"Yes, Sehun?" Yixing said through somewhat gritted teeth. The young vampire wasn't phased. 

"I need to speak with you." 

"Fine." None of you moved. 

Sehun looked at you with a pointed glare.

You received the hint loud and clear. "I'll leave you, then.” 

With more relief than you cared to admit, you scurried out of the room and down the hallway. 

Around the corner, you pressed your back against the wall and forced yourself to take deep breaths that filled your lungs to capacity. Panic had been the response at Yixing's closeness. You didn't mean for that to be the response. You didn't want to be closed off to any of them. But you couldn't help it. Maybe it was merely the closeness of the situation. 

Giving yourself a small amount of grace, you pushed off the wall and made your way downstairs. So used to your time being absorbed by the men that you weren't sure what to do with yourself. Two of the ones that remained behind were currently occupied. As for the three others, they could have been anywhere. 

You wandered around the main floor with a fleeting hope that one would come to find you. Then you saw them. A row of grand doors evenly spaced along the north wall called you forward.

The grand ballroom took your breath away. Not so dissimilar to the one in your dream, though this one’s lack of warmth and light left you heartbroken. Memories of dancing figures and lively music haunted these walls. In the corner, you could imagine a small orchestra strumming their instruments in delight. 

You walked to the center where dozens of pairs used to twirl and bow and embrace each other in time with the melody. Ghostly laughter echoed in your ears. What had once been  bright and golden and full of life was dull, dark, and covered in cobwebs that swayed in the breeze of unknown origin. 

Glancing around, you confirmed that you were truly alone before closing your eyes, lifting your arms, and began a soft hum. 

You danced with an invisible partner in the fashion that your grandfather had taught you as a small child. It was more intimate than the choreographed dances currently popularized. You had always imagined your first ball like this, instead of the disappointment you really experienced. You had pictured a boy you didn’t know catching your eye. As the music was struck up, he laid a hand on your waist.

Just like now. 

Hm. Your imagination was running wild, even pretending the weight of a palm was there on your lower back. And now in your lifted left hand. 

No. That wasn’t your imagination. 

Your eyes snapped open. 

Jongin had taken the place of your imagined partner. He smiled down at you with a feline smirk as his hands tightened around you, refusing to let you slip away. There was no choice in leaving this musicless dance. You had stopped humming but he continued to whirl you around the marble floor. He controlled the dance, in charge of every step. He led with an expertise he shouldn’t have possessed–if he were a man of this age. 

In one final move, he slipped his arm fully around your waist, pulling you so close that no room remained between you. Without breaking the spin, he lifted you from the floor as if you were no more than a kitten and whirled you around like the heroine from your favorite novel.

When the spin came to a close, he set you back on your feet, but didn’t let go. Your lungs heaved from the exercise–and from the way your bodies pressed together. Each rise of your chest brought you even closer to Jongin. He kept your gaze like a stablehand trying to calm a wild horse. His right hand slipped from your fingers, softly tracing the delicate inside of your arm. The touch left behind a fire you couldn’t explain. A cold, simmering fire.

He cupped your jaw as his eyes drifted down to your lips. This was a different reaction to Yixing’s wandering gaze. Not panic, but something similar. 

Jongin held you in place as he leaned down, his lips pressing gently into the corner of yours. The thin breath in your lungs hitched. He lifted his lips only to find a new patch of skin. The delicate skin covering your pulse. Every muscle in your body froze. He kissed the skin softly. Surely, he could feel the race of your blood. 

“Whenever you need a partner,” he said in a hush against your neck, “just whisper my name.”

And then, he was gone. 

You stared off at the empty path left behind Jongin. The sheer hubris.

His name lingered on your lips, wondering if he would really come back like he said. But you kept the whisper inside and left the ballroom just the same. 

[anthonysperkins]

“So much would be written about that grim night in New Orleans, but not a single mention of our last hour at Latrobe’s, as if the only crime unfit to print took place on that dance floor. It was my sole duty to distract Lestat, but in his mirrored eyes, the distraction reflected back onto me. And in the dead center of the whispering gallery, I lost the thread to my plotting and fell once more into the well with no bottom. I was his, and he was mine.”

Louis (Jacob Anderson) and Lestat (Sam Reid) in Interview with the Vampire (2022 – ) episode seven “The Thing Lay Still”

[another-lost-mc]

RAPHAEL x gn!Reader, 0.8k words, nsfw. Content warnings: Marking/hickies. Possessiveness if you squint. A/N: Inspired by The RAD Vampire Club! Devilgram story.

“This looks fantastic,” you told Raphael as you stretched out your arms in the costume he made for you. It fit you perfectly, and you were genuinely impressed by the craftsmanship of his work. You didn’t expect he would put so much care into an outfit you were only going to wear for one night.

You were surprised when he invited you to Purgatory Hall earlier that week to confirm your measurements. You offered your approximate measurements over the phone, but he insisted he wanted to verify the numbers himself.

“Is that really necessary? I don’t want to waste your time.”

“It’ll be a bigger waste of time if what I make for you doesn’t fit. Who took your measurements?”

“…I did?”

It was embarrassing to think about—the way you twisted in front of the mirror, jotting down your measurements for him and hoping the entire time that the tape wasn't too loose or crooked as you awkwardly measured yourself. You tried your best and hoped that whatever he made would fit, at least.

But then he sighed into the receiver, and you guessed he was imagining how you managed to achieve the numbers you gave him, too. “Come over after dinner and I’ll confirm your measurements myself.”

That’s how you ended up in his bedroom in Purgatory Hall, wearing only your undershirt and underwear, perched on a stepping stool he grabbed from the kitchen he shared with his dorm mates.

You expected him to take your measurements quickly in the sitting room, and maybe he planned on that, until you both realized Solomon was reading on the sofa. Raphael sensed your apprehension and led you straight past the sorcerer and into his room instead.

Raphael’s intense focus while he worked was nerve-wracking enough—you didn’t want to worry about Solomon leering at your half-naked body.

Raphael worked quietly but quickly, drawing the tape measure across your limbs and around your torso. He was respectful, not touching you more than necessary, and you didn't notice his eyes roaming freely over so much exposed skin. You were surprised how comfortable you felt with him in such an intimate position, but there was nothing intimate about this. He was professional about it, and you tried to be too.

He scratched out numbers on the sheet of paper he brought with him—the one with the original dimensions you gave him—and he corrected all of them. He snickered under his breath when he came across one you had measured very poorly.

“Hey, I tried my best!”

He smiled when you crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. “You did, but I want you to look your best even if it’s for a silly party. Let me finish this for you and you can be on your way.”

When Raphael met you at the venue to prepare for the festivities, he handed you a zipped-up clothing bag. You put on the outfit excitedly and stepped out of the dressing room for his approval. He gave you an approving once-over, visibly pleased by how you looked in the costume he tailored specially for you. You were delighted—it was comfortable enough to move around in freely, but fitted enough to be flattering on your body.

He stepped closer to you and after a moment of scrutiny, he pulled a loose thread off your shoulder. “You look like a respectable vampire now. Your unsuspecting victims won't stand a chance.”

You admired yourself in the full-length mirror when he walked away and started tidying his supplies. “Are you coming to the party too?”

His reflection in the mirror shook its head. “I’m not sure I understand the appeal of blood-sucking, even if it's only pretend.”

“I’d let you try, if you're curious,” you joked, looking over your outfit one more time as you smoothed down the front of your jacket.

Your eyes shot back up when you felt something—someone—at your back. Raphael had moved behind you suddenly, and his bright eyes caught your gaze in the mirror. He pushed down the collar of your shirt—gently, so he didn't ruin the lace trim—and bent his head.

His hair tickled the side of your face when his lips brushed against the side of your neck. He hummed when you gasped, and he pushed down a little firmer with his mouth and sucked. He was careful enough so that it didn’t hurt, but there was no mistaking the hint of teeth that scraped your skin before he lifted his head and stepped back again.

“Perhaps I’ll see you the party after all,” he murmured, licking his lips as he turned away. He was out the door, closing it behind him with a decisive click before you could even respond.

You were frozen in place, overwhelmed by the tingling sensation radiating from your neck and the erratic heartbeat hammering in your chest. You leaned forward and stared at your reflection in the mirror. There was an unmistakable mark on your neck now, blooming purple just above your collar where everyone else would see it.

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[whatshehassaid]

Also lil fun fact in s1… Louis reads a part of Daniel’s book where he’s talking about how recollection and memory can trick you: “I look at my daughter in the rear view mirror of my Buick sitting in her car seat… my editor tells me it’s 7 years before car seats become mandatory. My ex wife tells me I never had a Buick”

In the books Daniel is turned into a Vampire by Armand in 1985

In the show:

Louis: Alice is in her third trimester… she steps in gum on the corner of Rue Palatine and Servandoni.

Daniel: the old parlour trick…

Louis: she makes you scrape it off with a credit card..

Daniel: it’s not a credit card. I HAVE no credit, it’s a library card

Louis: She’s wearing that short purple dress you favor…

Daniel: I liked the way she lo- walked in it… she was CONFIDENT

Louis: You felt freer to hold her hand in Paris… *hint of sarcasm* I wonder why that is..

Daniel: hitting the garage door, Louis… all the crap… have at it

Louis: you worked SOOOO hard to get that table right in the corner so you could pull out the ring…

Daniel *scoffs*: the ring… that’s good..

Louis: just at the right moment to surprise her

Daniel: which I DID..

Louis: And what did she say when you finally asked her to marry you?

*Daniel has a flash of Armand in the 70s*

Louis: Danny. I’ll ask for a third time. What did ALICE say… when you finally asked her to marry you?

Armand *softly*: Louis perhaps we should…

Daniel *visibly upset* : She said no.

*Louis chuckles maliciously*

*long silence*

Armand *squirms on the couch and a sad uncomfortable expression comes over his face*: she wanted to say yes.

*Daniel’s eyes widen as he looks up at Armand*

Armand: she just didn’t trust you. You hadn’t given her a reason to.

Louis *still with a malicious tone*: do you want to know what she thinks of you now? IF she thinks of you now? *glances at Armand* we could do that

Armand: or we could simply return to the interview.

——

Season one Louis serves Daniel the dessert he had in Paris claiming he has a human meal once a week to hold onto the thread of humanity…

Daniel: this is the dessert I had after I proposed to my first wife… after I got my shit together. We were in Paris. Little cafe on the Rue Servandoni up the way from Saint Sulpice.

Louis: I know it. It’s a beautiful street.

Daniel *becoming nostalgic*: Alice…. Half of her eyebrow was blonde… like a mutt. She always dyed it back to brown…

Daniel *somewhat sadly*: I liked it when she left it alone….

*daniel closes his laptop stopping the recording of the interview*

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

touch

masterlist

summary: the first three times dean touched you

pairing : dean winchester x female reader

rating : R for language

word count : 1.3k

warnings : language, mentions of violence, nudity (kind of?), blood, injured reader

author’s note : worried dean has my whole heart omfg

the first time dean touched you was after he saved your ass by beheading a vampire. he held out his hand and you reluctantly accepted his help standing up. your thigh was throbbing after getting hit and you were grateful the stranger saved your life.

that was two weeks ago, you had been hunting with sam and dean since

the second time dean touched you was when he hugged you after he thought you were killed by the wendigo they’d been hunting. you didn’t know why you liked the hug so much, but you know he made you feel safe and wanted. you took the opportunity to hug him back with everything in you, taking in his scent and smiling.

the third time was different. you were badly hurt by the werewolf (that was now dead, thanks to sam) and you were seated in the bathroom. dean didn’t realize the monster got you - he thought it had missed your shoulder, when in reality you now had three deep gashes on your back, right shoulder. it stung like a bitch as you doused it in antiseptic and you bit down on the cloth you had shoved in your mouth to muffle the screams. you took a different cloth and dabbed the wound, reaching back with your left hand and using the mirror to see what you were doing.

“hey, y/n, we brought back burgers!” sam called. “dean’s parking baby, he’ll be up in a minute.” he knocked on the bathroom door. “you almost out?”

“yep, just fixing my hair.”

“okay, see you in a minute.”

you continued pressing the cloth against the torn skin, hissing with pain every couple seconds. when you were satisfied with the cleanliness of it, you grabbed some dental floss and threaded the needle, ready to stitch yourself up.

“y/n’s in there fixing her hair,” sam told dean before he reached for the door handle.

“well then she's got her clothes on,” he laughed and walked in. his smile instantly faded when he saw you and he closed the door quickly behind him. “shit, sweetheart, why didn’t you say something!”

“it’s not that bad, it’s just a scratch,” you shrugged. “shit!” the movement hurt your shoulder and you winced. dean hurried up to you and held your biceps gently. you were in sweatpants and an unclasped bra, your back exposed so the full extent of your injury could be seen.

“y/n, that’s not a fucking scratch,” dean furrowed his brows and looked at your torn up skin in the mirror. “that looks really painful, why didn’t you say anything on the way back to the motel?”

“didn’t wanna bother you, i knew you were hungry,” you looked away from him, embarrassed. “did you eat yet? you should go have a burger if-”

“let me patch you up, then we’ll eat dinner, okay?”

“no, i’m fine, i can do it myself,” you shook your head vigorously. “it’s really not bad, dean, i’m okay.”

“you’re right handed, how’re you gonna stitch up a wound like that with your left hand?”

“i’m ambidextrous?”

“no your not.”

“okay, i’m not, but i can still stitch myself up dean it’s not a big deal.”

“let me take a look?” he asked. you didn’t want to look at him, you knew one glance at those green eyes you’d give in and let him help. he gently turned your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “please?”

“mkay,” you whispered. you stood up and faced the mirror, letting dean get a good look at your damaged shoulder.

“i’m gonna patch you up, okay?” he looked into your eyes through the mirror, rubbing your left bicep gently. you nodded, resting on the counter before staring down at it. he grabbed the antiseptic and poured some on a cloth.

“i already did that,” you said.

“no offense, sweetheart, but you didn’t do a very good job,” he smiled a little after hearing you laugh quietly. “how’d you shower, by the way?”

“gym tape, gauze, and plastic wrap over the wound,” you said, matter-of-factly. “shit, give a girl a warning next time!”

“sorry,” dean mumbled, but continued to press the cloth onto the wound. “promise me next time you’re hurt you’ll tell me, please?” he whispered, moving your hair to the left side of your neck so he could clean the wound better.

“okay,” you muttered back, holding in your winces to look tough.

“mkay, antiseptic’s done, time for stitches,” he said.

you straightened up and sighed, watching as dean threaded the needle and grabbed the forceps. he handed you the cloth to bite down on then began stitching up your shoulder.

he muttered an apology every time you let out a cry of pain and muttered comforting words between said apologies.

“almost done, y/n, just another minute,” he said. he had his left hand below your neck and was gently stroking your skin with his thumb.

“mhm,” you hummed back. despite the pain you were in you liked being so close to dean. you weren’t used to such gentle touch (especially from a man) and you weren’t sure why you liked it so much. it might have been the warmth of dean’s hand on your back, the soft whispers of comfort, or the fact someone was showing you genuine kindness.

“and, done!” dean exclaimed. “i’m just gonna put some neosporin on it then some gauze, but the painful part’s over.”

“thank you, dean,” you smiled at him through the mirror before he did the same.

“no problem, sweetheart.”

he finished bandaging the wound and let you know when it was done. you thanked him again before reaching to re-hook your bra, hissing in pain at the movement.

“hey, don’t tear those stitches i just worked so hard on!” he said, gently moving your arm down to a more comfortable position. “may i?” you nodded and he hooked your bra for you, letting out a laugh.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, brows furrowed slightly.

“i’m usually unhooking the bra, don’t think i’ve ever helped a girl put one on,” he mumbled, still smiling.

“maybe you can unhook it later,” you whispered, instantly feeling stupid and praying he didn’t hear.

“the second your shoulder feels better, let me know,” he replied, you let out a breath of relief. he kissed the back of your head, letting you know he was done helping with your bra. you turned around to face him and looked up at his beautiful green eyes.

“thank you,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“don’t mention it, you’d do the same for me.” he brushed your hair off the one shoulder, tucking a piece behind your ear. he noticed how you leaned into his touch and cupped your cheek with his hand. you closed you eyes and smiled, enjoying the feel of his calloused palm on your lightly-bruised cheek.

“mmh, feels nice,” you smiled when he put his other hand on your other cheek. you opened your eyes to see him leaning in, resting his forehead on yours for a second before kissing you gently. you felt like putty in his hands as you kissed back and gently gripped his forearms.

the perfect moment was disrupted by sam banging on the door, “if you don’t hurry up i’m gonna eat your food!”

“in a minute, sammy,” dean called back, rolling his eyes a little. he then turned back to you and smiled.

“he sure knows how to kill the mood,” you laugh quietly.

“mhm, not that killed,” dean whispered back, kissing you again. you both pulled away after a moment. “let’s eat, hm?”

“um, can you help me with my shirt?” you asked, pointing to the oversized ac/dc shirt that was hung on the towel rack behind him. “i don’t wanna tear these amazing stitches!”

“sure thing, sweetheart,” he laughed and grabbed the shirt. he helped you get it on before you left the bathroom so he could take a quick shower like he had intended to in the first place.

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 31: Costume

♤♡-Pairs: Kaveh x male!reader

☆☆-Warnings: male reader, college au, kissing, fingering (kaveh receiving), bathroom sex, nurse costume (kaveh), clothes ripping (kavehs tights), panties (kaveh)

A/N: Super early upload! But I hope yall enjoy and thank you for this amazing first kinktober! Happy Halloween 🎃 👻

WC: 1.7k

"Do I really have to wear this?" Kaveh groaned, eyes casting a disgusted glance towards the pile of white fabric in his hands. 

"You do. That's how bets work." Alhaitham added, lithe fingers working at the button of his cape. Kaveh looked to his other friends; eyes pleading. But they only gave him a sorrowful glance, agreeing with Alhaitham. "Ugh, but what if he's there…" He mumbled, fingers picking at a loose thread. "Then you'll thank me, because he'll want to fuc-"

"Ahh, no more." He shook his head rapidly back and forth. Hanging his head in defeat, he slowly trudged to the bathroom. Slipping on the costume, his face immediately erupted into hot, red heat as he casted a glance in the mirror. White fabric tied in front, just above his belly button. Intended to push up breasts that he didn't have, instead gave the same boob window he had with his normal attire. But now, his tummy was exposed too. His blonde happy trail, peeking just a bit above the band of the skirt. Oh the skirt-he immediately hid his face in his hands. It stopped above mid thigh and he was sure if he turned-yup, you could clearly see the bottom of his ass. Or you would, if Alhaitham hadn't taken pity on him and gave him some tights. This was humiliating. Especially if you saw him. Kaveh nibbled on his bottom lip. Maybe he should just stay-

A harsh knock came to the door. "Come on, we're gonna be late." Kaveh really didn't wanna go. 

Reluctantly, he opened the door and peeked out. All three of his friends waited by the door, faces absorbed in their phones. With a deep breath, he stepped out, all heads swiveled to his direction. Alhaitham gave a hum of approval. "He'll definitely fuc-"

"Stop!" He yelled, waving his hands in front of his face. "Let's just go," he pouted with his arms crossed over his chest.

…

Kaveh had never felt more embarrassed than he did right now. He was hiding from you, it was obvious. As soon as he arrived, you just had to be the first person he saw. Your hair slicked back with gel, plastic fangs tucked in your mouth as you wore a low-cut suit. Who knew he had a thing for vampires? Not that it mattered, as soon as he made eye contact with you, he ran away. And everytime after that. Currently, he had posted up in the bathroom. Staring angrily at himself for being so weak and nervous to talk to you. Or even look at you. It was no secret he'd had a crush on you for a while. Well, you didn't know. 

He needed to put his big boy pants on and face you! With a curt nod to himself in the mirror, he turned to open the door. Coming face to face with you, a beer in your hand that he accidentally made you spill. "Shit," you hissed, the cold liquid seeping into your shirt. 

"I.." kaveh choked, his throat felt dry as he stared at you. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! "I'll help! Paper towels? Um.." he looked around, eyes wavering as he tried to find something. "Don't worry bout it, an accident." You gave a sigh, stepping into the bathroom now, shutting the door. Kaveh blinked, watching as you shrugged off the top layer of your suit, removing the white button up underneath it. He gulped. "Want a picture?" Your eyes glanced at Kaveh's shocked expression before you chuckled. "I'm messing with you dude," your eyes drifted a little lower before coming back up. "Nice costume."

Someone open the ground and swallow him whole please. "T-thanks…" He shifted his feet. "Lost a bet," Kaveh murmured. "Yeah?" You questioned, using your distracting hands to wash the beer stain out of your shirt. "Thank whoever made that bet with you, for me." He blinked. Did he hear you right? 

"What?" You chuckled, giving up on your shirt and set it on the counter, turning to him. "I said, thank whoever made that bet with you." You looked him up and down. "To think I'd see you in a nurse outfit, a sexy one at that." Kaveh's cheeks felt hot, was this really happening? Were you really saying these things to him? 

You stepped closer, hands hovering at your sides. Looking like they itched to touch his body; they did. 

"I know you like me Kaveh." You sighed, a playful smile on your face. "Y-You do? How? I mean-" He rubbed at the back of his neck, accidentally showing more of his slim waist. You felt your cock stir in your slacks. He really did look just too damn hot right now. "It's not hard when you catch someone constantly having eyes glued to you." You stepped even closer, bodies almost touching. "You were so absorbed in it, you didn't even see me looking at you, did you?" 

He swallowed thickly; had he really missed it? Kaveh shook his head. "Thought so," your hands tentatively rested on his hips, causing him to suck in a breath. "Well, now you have no excuse. What do you say we have some fun, hm? It's well overdue, and I have to be honest. This costume?" You licked your lips. "Makes me hard."

Was it possible to feel even hotter? Kaveh pondered that as he felt his head nod, giving you the go ahead. Immediately, you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. And it was a mess of spit, tongues tangling with the other, and teeth knocking against each other. It was hot. Kaveh could already feel his dick spring to life, lifting the front of his skirt a bit. You groaned, hands slipping around to the back. Grabbing handfuls of his ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to make him squeak against your lips.

You chuckled, pulling back. "Sensitive aren't we? That's fucking hot." You lean back in, claiming his lips again. Kaveh found himself palming at your bare chest, seeking something to ground him from his foggy mind. Unable, still, to comprehend this was actually happening.

"Hop up," you murmur against his lips. Tucking your hands under his thighs, lifting him. Your hands spread across his backside, molding the flesh how you liked. "A shame you didn't wear any pretty panties with this." You mumbled, fingers tugging at the fabric of the tights. "Do you like these?" Kaveh heard you question. He shook his head, "N-Not really-ah!" His body flinched, the obscene sound of ripping fabric echoed in the bathroom. Did you…just rip his tights? Oh fuck, that was hot. "Oh?" You were pleasantly surprised to find, he was in fact, wearing panties. "Fuck-" you groaned, resting your forehead against his cheat. "You're killing me. I won't rip these, I wanna fuck you with them on." 

"Please.." he found himself saying almost immediately. Shivering when he saw how your eyes darkened with his neediness. "Don't worry, I will, gotta prep you first." With one hand around him still, you brought the other to his mouth. And you didn't even have to tell him, he immediately took your fingers into his pretty mouth. 

"God, you really are too fucking hot." Your dick strained painfully against your pants, leaking pre already. 

You pressed your fingers against his tongue while he swirled it around your digits. If he sucked fingers like this-how would he suck cock? The thought was enough to make you groan. As much as you wanted that though, you wanted to be inside him. Needed to be. You slipped your fingers out, sliding his panties to the side and slipping in a finger. His hole twitched, spasming around you as there was slight resistance. "Relax," you spoke softly against his lips. Thinking if you kissed him, maybe it'd help him relax. And you were right. Soon, you were able to get three fingers inside, his body grinding himself on your fingers.

His soft whimpers and whines going straight to your dick. You doubted it would take long for either of you.

"You ready baby?" He nodded his head almost immediately, hot breath puffed against your neck. You moved over towards the sink, slipping your fingers out and setting him on the ground. "Turn around for me. I want you to see. No distractions." He complied, turning towards the sink, laying his front on the counter. His ass pointed upwards as he flipped the back of his skirt up. You rubbed the front of your pants at the sight, "You really are gonna kill me." No more wasting time. You undid your pants, slipping them down your legs. Freeing your cock from its confinements, spitting abruptly into your hand. Stroking up and down its length a few times before slapping the tip against the flesh of his ass. 

His ass wiggled, his pretty mouth begging you to just put it in please. "Need to feel your cock inside me." He didn't have to tell you twice. Grasping the base of your dick, you slowly fed yourself into his greedy hole. Twitching and clenching around you. Even though you prepped him, you were still met with some resistance. You leaned forward, kissing up his back. "Fuck-relax baby, can't move, squeezing me too much." 

Eventually the resistance faded and you were fucking into him. Your balls, full and heavy, slapped against his ass. His blessed out face present in the mirror and you couldn't help but hiss. Tangling your hand in his hair, pulling back enough to make him arch. Allowing you to push deeper inside, the tip of your cock brushing against his prostate.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," Kaveh whined. Eyes became misty as the pleasure took over his body. Making his poor nipples harden and brush against the cold surface of the sink. "Gonna cum," he announced. His pretty eyes leaking tears that rolled down his cheeks, flushed a rosy pink. 

"Me too," you grunted, picking up speed. "With me, cum f'me, oh fuck fuck-" 

A flash of white burned behind your eyes as your hips stilled, spilling your sticky cum inside him. Kaveh's dick twitched, spraying his seed on the counter and his tummy. You fell, landing on his back as you panted heavily. 

…

"You owe me twenty bucks," Alhaitham pointed to Cyno. Sipping from his cup, eyes following you and Kaveh walking out of the bathroom.

Masterlist

Prev. ☆

[iibonniee]

Mine, all Mine

Pairing: Lee Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: werewolf!wonho, mating, unprotected sex, creampie

Rating: R

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Hoseok knew you were always the one for him. Always the one to call his mate

Masterlist | Tags: @beautifulworldandmore @kyunnielove @iamkyunie @doveslittlekpoparchive @dessianna1

Hoseok, a distinctive character straddling the line between ordinary man and supernatural entity, had always known Y/N was the one. She was his essence, his soulmate. In the cosmos’ grand interplay during the mating season, supernatural beings and humans coexisted and mingled within blurred boundaries. However, the key distinctions brought a unique dynamism to their world.

In their most primal essence, wolves embodied raw energy and family bonding. Their unwavering sense of loyalty set them apart. On the other hand, vampires represented passionate yet restrained entities, meticulously threading the fine line between sensual charm and predator instinct. Witches, time-enduring sage women, were the bridges, weaving seamlessly between the human realm’s mundanity and the supernatural’s flamboyance. Their elevated senses gave them access to magic’s unseen, uncharted territories.

Humans added grounded reality to this mystical spectrum. Being ordinary amongst the extraordinary, they symbolize resilience and audacity. Their willingness to adapt is what makes them unique. Yet the roles fluctuate, and the ordinary can also embody the extraordinary.

Just as Hoseok, who straddled the realms of man and wolf, embodied extraordinary love for Y/N, time and again, it wasn’t the power that marked destiny but the profound sense of belonging that transcended the boundaries between different beings. After all, amid the chaos of wolves, vampires, witches, and humans, love proved to be the most transcendent power of all.

Hoseok and Y/N held on to their love in defiance of prevailing norms. Despite the forbidden nature of a werewolf-human bond, they found solace in stolen moments and secret rendezvous.

As Hoseok’s transformation drew near every full moon, he sought refuge in Y/N’s presence, her understanding quieting the storm within. Her love and acceptance provided him a sanctuary, a place where he was seen for more than his beastly phase but as a sentient being capable of profound love.

Y/N, for her part, while fearful at first, found courage in Hoseok’s oceans. His demonstrative loyalty, inherent in his wolf nature, was a testament to his genuine feelings for her. His eyes held promises of eternal devotion and a fierce need to protect her, instilling in her the courage to face the backlash of their unconventional love.

Contrasting their world with the vampires’ eternal seduction dance and witches’ harmonious coexistence, their love story, raw and unfiltered, echoed with defiance that questioned established societal constructs. While they might have been feared for their forbidden connection, their deeply emotional narrative began to draw some unexpected allies among their contemporaries.

In the backdrop of the seasonal rites of mating season, their love bloomed, resonating with a quiet strength that somehow found a way to survive amidst the chaos. Indeed, Hoseok and Y/N were mirror reflections of their world, marked by diversity and dynamism swaying to the rhythm of love’s power. Despite their circumstances, Hoseok and Y/N remained hopeful, choosing to face whatever obstacles lay ahead together.

As long as their hearts echoed the same rhythm, as the moon would bear witness to their love, they vowed to continue their dance. Their love, however forbidden, was a testament to the extraordinary, an emblem of resilience and audacity, and the epitome of a tale that dared to wield the special amidst the ordinary.

On one such night, with the moon casting long, weaving shadows around them, they found themselves in a secret retreat—a haven for their forbidden love. Hoseok’s amber eyes flitted to Y/N, his gaze heavy with desire.

“Do you trust me?” Hoseok’s low voice broke the silence, his demeanor remaining poised even as his wolfish instincts swelled inside him, itching to claim her.

“I would trust you with my life, Hoseok.” Y/N replied, her voice barely a whisper.

“Give yourself to me, love.” Hoseok coaxed her, his voice sultry and hypnotic. “I want to show you the depths of my desire, the extent of my love… Will you let me?”

Her heart pounded as she managed a small “yes,” surrendering to the raw desire reflected in his eyes. As Hoseok leaned in, his hot breath danced across her neck, sending shivers of anticipation down her spine. His husky whisper echoed in her ear, heavy with promise and desire: “Tonight belongs to us.”

“And will you trust me with your body?” His low voice rang with confident anticipation. Hoseok’s amber eyes darkened at her words, his desire practically radiating from him.

“Yes.” she whispered, causing a predatory grin to spread across Hoseok’s face.

His hands traced over her body, his fingers creating a map of desire as he undressed her. Each touch promised the pleasure to come, stirring a deep need within Y/N.

Slowly, he nestled himself between her neck, softly kissing her skin and leaving bruises, marking her as his. Her breath hitched as he pulled away and looked into her eyes, fire mirroring fire. “Tonight, Y/N,” he growled, “I mate with you. I claim you in the most primal way.”

“First,” he rumbled, withdrawing slightly to trace a thumb over her stomach. “We take the rest off.”

His palm ghosted over her clothed breasts before drifting down her hips, and Hoseok took his time unbuttoning her pants, revealing her aching cunt to him. His lips never left her skin, further inflaming the mounting need as his other hand untangled his own restraints, shedding their last inhibitions.

As the clothes puddled at their feet, the amber glow in his eyes intensified to an inferno as he took in the sight of her laid bare beneath him. With every breath she took, soft and needy, he reveled in the anticipation of the storm to come.

The first touch was a tease—a whisper of skin on skin—as Hoseok framed her body between his strong thighs, his hardened length grazing tantalizingly against her thigh. He wasn’t rushing them into it; instead, every brush of his finger on her skin promised what would unfold.

His fingers explored the folds of her, teasing out delicious little whimpers as he swirled over her clit, bringing her pleasure. He withdrew the moment he noticed how worked up she was getting, leaving her a panting, writhing mess under his commanding gaze. The sight of her, drenched in desire for him, was something he could feast on forever.

“Patience, Y/N…" he chastises gently, a smirk on his lips.

Then, aligning himself at her entrance, he looked deeply into her eyes. He was so close to breaking. So close to taking her and making her his. Hoseok growled, “Tonight, Y/N, I mate with you. I claim you in every way possible.”

Hoseok, aligning at her entrance, lured his gaze once again to meet with hers. Unspoken words were exchanged through the silence—a sacred symphony of raw want and untamed anticipation seeping into their connection.

With a growl that resounded and a sinfully deep baritone that sent shivers cascading down her spine, he voiced his primal intent, “You’re mine tonight, Y/N. I need you. I’m going to make you fucking mine.”

A moment stretched into eternity as he maintained the delicious, tightening suspense—a predatory dance—before the imminent chase. His cock, hard and throbbing, nudged teasingly against her slick folds, each brushing a scorching whisper of what was to come, setting aflame her deepest cravings.

Their world contracted until it was only them, woven together by the promise of the impending ecstasy. The air around them pulsed with overriding desire, skin on skin, and the irresistible pressure at her core was nothing compared to the erotic charge that vibrated between them.

Slowly, achingly, he pushed the tip inside her. The intrusion was just the hint of what was to come, a heady foretaste of the imminent coupling. The faint stretch was nothing compared to the tidal wave of pleasure already threatening to break, threatening to drown them in its intensity.

Her every gasp and whimper, each shake and clench beneath him, only fueled his untamed desire. Yet he held back, ruthlessly restraining his own raw urgency that screamed at him to plunge deep within her. Her body enveloped him inch by sinful inch.

His amber eyes never wavered from hers, capturing each flicker of pleasure, each gasping breath, and each ephemeral blink. These nuances painted a tempting picture of her journey towards pure bliss, fueling the embers of his own restraint to cinders.

Slowly, he moved. A test, a teasing motion as he heard her cries of want. Part of him was worried that he’d push her too far. His amber eyes shimmered, reflecting the intoxicating dance of lust and love, remaining latched onto her gaze while she drank in every subtle hint of pleasure that danced across her captivating features. Each gasping breath she took, each fleeting blink, became a symbol of her escalating ecstasy, fueling his restraint and teetering on the edge of obliteration.

He moved with measured, almost torturous, deliberation. Each subtle roll of his hips sent waves of tantalizing friction through their bodies. The act was a teasing initiation. Under his lingering gaze, he sought signs of discomfort, aiming to temper the raw sensuality of their situation with instinctual protectiveness. However, with every whine and whimper she bequeathed, he knew the pushing only enhanced her pleasure.

He watched her, relishing each minute tremor that clung to her lashes and the shaky trails of heated pants escaping her ruby-tinted lips. Her feast of reactions was a testament to his doing, setting aflame the embers of his need and chipping away at the last vestiges of his restraint.

Her legs wound tighter around his hips, urging him to break the thread of control he precariously hung onto. Her silent plea was heard loudly in his guilt-inducing consciousness, yet he refrained, fuelled by the intoxicating thrill of prolonging their inevitable climax.

The primal dance of their bodies continued; the rhythm was jagged and almost painfully slow, pushing them to the boundary of their restraint. Every whispered word of desire in her ear, every teasing brush against her sensitive peaks, stoked an overwhelming yearning within them. Their connection was a tempest, blistering and fervent, interlaced with an elemental passion that swirling amidst them. United in rhythm, their bodies gravitated toward a brink they hesitated to unmask, holding the moment captive in its incandescent suspense.

Feeling the vibrations against their feverish skin and the mounting tension, they inched on the edge, letting the searing waves of need wash over them, intertwining them in an intricate dance of want and restraint. It was a seductive struggle between the primal urge to surrender to carnal instincts and the intense desire to extend the sweet torture of anticipation.

He withdrew and thrusted in again, setting their senses ablaze in a swirl of tantalizing entropy, evoking sinful moans and painting delight across her blushed visage. Each plea that dripped from her parted lips echoed his name and their bodies.

“Hoseok,” She spoke with pleaded words, “Don’t treat me like a doll, please. I want you. I want you to ruin me.”

At her plea, Hoseok found himself skimming on the edge of his resolution. Her voiced confession ricocheted within his being, setting off a wildfire that threatened to consume his restraint. Hoseok growled lowly, the sound rumbling deep within his chest, echoing the carnal hunger that had taken control.

“Y/N,” his voice, laced with a sinful rasp, clung to the rhythm of their bodies moving against each other in slow, deliberate motions. “My love… you’re so sure?”

Her hesitation was a captured kite within him, dancing in the winds of his desire. His eyes bore into hers again, desperate to ascertain that she was ready to step into the whirlwind of carnal pleasure.

A firm nod from her, a breathless ‘Yes,’ was the only affirmation he needed. She was his, and he was hers. Completely.

“Hoseok,” she panted once again, her body writhing against his touch. Her plea echoed in the quiet room “I want you to ruin me.”

With a possessive growl, Hoseok snarled back, the primal need within him rising at her request. “Just as you wish,” he husked, each syllable dripping with raw desire. “I intend to make you feel every stroke, every caress, and every pulse of my need inside of you.”

His movements became bolder, more assertive, pushing deeper with each rhythmic thrust, eliciting pleas and gasps that tumbled from her lips as sacred whispers. Yet he was careful, ever so careful, refusing to rush their journey to the ecstasy he planned to impart.

He didn’t move inside her again until she was panting, the sheen of sweat making her skin glow against the moonlight filtering through the window. The room filled with the erotic symphony of her desires escaping through hitched breaths, beckoning him to explore the depths of the ecstasy he could deliver.

“Tell me,” Hoseok murmured, “who do you belong to?”

With each stroke of his hips, he drove his point home, a perfect syncopation of their heartbeats and his thrusts. She began to break, the once languid pace accelerating into a frenzy. But not yet; he had vowed to clarify his claim and let it last until their bodies could hold no more.

“Y/N, who do you fucking belong to?” Hoseok spoke through gritted teeth. He thrusts into her hard, his eyes dark and not leaving her own. His voice tightened with lustful sincerity; each syllable echoing her name was like a sin itself, evoking profound longing within her. The room was filled with hot tension, entangling their senses into a vortex of sinful craving.

Hoseok’s command was not a question but a raw declaration of dominance, mirroring the primal intensity burning within their gaze. Framed within the confines of the room, their silhouettes painted a raw, sensual painting—bodies sheened with sweat, blending into one another rhythmically as they danced on the brink of shared ecstasy.

“Answer me, Y/N.” His baritone fell around her like a veil of silk laced with lethal obsession. “Who owns you?” Each word is punctuated by thrusts so precisely, forming a deliciously sinful haze. His gaze held her captive, her body shimmering under his touch as she fought to form words amidst the overwhelming waves of desire.

A strangled moan escaped her lips as she finally managed to utter, “Only you, Hoseok. Only you.”

Satisfaction glittered in his darkened gaze before he lowered his lips to hers, swallowing her cry of pleasure in a scorching kiss. At her admission, his rhythm became more frenzied, hips snapping against hers with such ferocity that she could hardly keep up. The room vibrated with their uncontained moans, only their heavy breathing and pounding heartbeats forming a symphony of unrestrained desire.

But Hoseok was nothing if not a deviant. He slowed his movements, drawing out the pleasurable torment with a devilish smirk playing on his lips. His hands trailed her quivering body, tracing the burning path with caresses that felt both soothing and torture.

He leaned in, nuzzling his nose against her ear, whispering in a voice that dripped raw, primal desire. “That’s right, baby, only I can touch you like this. Only I can make you break beneath me.” The shared ecstasy became a compelling game, a sensual battle between want and restraint, each teasing touch stoking their yearning to the brink of madness. Their world revolved around each other, their senses attuned only to their bodies’ rhythm and shared breaths. They teetered on the edge, neither willing to be the first to succumb, their bond tangled in a delicate dance of dominance and surrender. “And when I cum inside you, everyone will know you’re mine. Nobody will want a filthy whore like you. I’m making you mine.”

Hoseok’s words were sin personified, wrapped in a sultry baritone that sent shivers down her spine. The raw sensuality he imbued in his declaration was a turn-on, fueling her desire to an indescribable high.

“That’s right,” he growled against the shell of her ear, hands gripping her waist, guiding their unhurried rhythm. Once again, his hips met hers in a blissfully torturous cadence. However torturous, it was a pleasure she was willing to endure under Hoseok’s skillful ministrations. “Every time I fill you up, you’ll know… only I can make you feel this way… You’re mine, Y/N. I’ll keep coming inside you until you have my pups.”

Their bodies moved in a perfect rhythm, the intoxicating heat between them growing insurmountable. He was a master of this compelling game, effortlessly navigating the thin line between desire and restraint, between pleasure and pain, pushing them closer and closer to the brink.

His hold on her tightened. He was teetering on the edge, consumed by the reckless need to stake his claim. The pleasure was becoming unbearable, threatening to break him. Teasing her, he dipped a finger into her core again, the sensations alighting their bodies aflame.

“Hoseok, I—” a filthy moan cut off her plea as he pushed deeper within her, one last long, slow, and hard thrust that challenged every shred of control they’d been clinging onto.

“That’s right,” Hoseok breathed into her ear, voice raspy from the strain of holding back. “Tell everyone who you belong to when I make you cum. When I make you scream my name.”

With that, their control snapped, Hoseok thrusting into her one last time, a meandering journey of pleasure reaching its peak. His breath hitched as the climax washed over him, stroking into her with a finality that echoed a raw, primal growl. A hot wave of euphoria spread through them as he came inside her, marking her as his.

“Only… only you, Hoseok,” she whispered, her body quaking, breaths ragged against the overwhelming sensations that tidal waved through her, intensifying as his name fell from her lips. He rode out their pleasure, each pulse of his release sending them spiraling into a visceral realm of primal satisfaction.

Catching his breath, he pulled out and watched as his cum slowly spilled out from her. Hoseok let out a throaty groan, his head lulling to the side as he watched it spill out like a scene from his favorite movie.

“Fuck.” He spoke up, his fingers playing with her pussy, merely avoiding his cum that was spilling out and onto the messy sheets. “This will be my favorite view.”

[bloodlust-1]

The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴

NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence

Ascended Astarion x fem Tav

Chapter: 3 | Pins & Needles

Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.

UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.

Notes: Anyone in the mood for some ascended Astarion smut? Cool cause this is that. Posting this a day early cause I want to…yw <3

AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST

Lovely photo by @aristenfromwarsaw

Tav stood still as Astarion draped the silk cloth over her body, his hands skillfully taking measurements with precision. The tape hanging from his neck swayed gently as he worked, his focus never broke his hands as he sewed the dress together.

"Aagh -" A sudden prick from the needle stabbed her skin, causing a sharp breath to escape her lips.

“Stay still,” Astarion demanded with a slight tug. “The party is tomorrow night, and I need to finish this dress for you.”

Tav obliged, standing motionless before the large mirror.

Well maybe if he'd be more careful I wouldn't have to move.

Tav watched in silence as Astarion created a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, creating a sexy silhouette around her figure. Tav stared into the mirror, even though she couldn’t see her reflection. Instead, she could only see the shape of the dress as it took form on her body.

I wonder how this color compliments my skin, hair, and eyes. I can't tell. Only Astarion is my mirror. He always tells me how beautiful I am.

While Astarion continued to sew, Tav’s thoughts drifted to a place of her life before a spawn, and remembering her time if her childhood in the woods; trying to teach herself how to hunt under the sun. Tav's emotions hid coldly beneath a mask of stoicism.

Astarion was on a knee, threading the last bit of the dress's slit. He suddenly leaned in closer to Tav’s exposed thigh.

His lips pressed against her soft flesh, sending a tingle up Tav’s spine. The sensation was both electrifying and unsettling as Astarion’s kisses grew rougher, his fingers gripping her thigh tightly.

Astarion’s actions became more aggressive. His cold, seductive eyes bore into hers as he sank his teeth into her thigh, drawing blood that trickled down her skin. The mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelmed Tav, causing her legs to tremble beneath her.

After savoring the taste of her blood, Astarion stood up and admired the dress he had just finished, "Ah, a masterpiece. It looks even better on you than I imagined.”

His demeanor shifted and his eyes trailed over the silk hugging her hips. He took a step closer and hovered over her with lustful eyes, "Take it off."

Tav’s smile faded as she brushed down the fabric on her hips, "What?"

Commandingly, "Take. It. Off."

Despite feeling a mix of emotions - fear, arousal, and confusion - Tav hesitated for a moment before complying.

Tav slowly undressed, letting the dress fall to the floor around her ankles, and taking a step out of the dress. She felt exposed and vulnerable under his gaze.

“You are truly exquisite, my consort,” Astarion murmured, his voice low and husky. Tav’s cheeks flushed at his words, her breath catching in her throat as she felt his gaze linger on her breasts.

Her legs trembled and she could feel her core growing excited. The heat pooling between them was almost unbearable. Astarion sensed this, took a step closer, and grasped Tav's face firmly in his palm. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his crimson eyes.

“Kneel,” Astarion commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

Tav’s heart pounded in her chest as she sank to her knees before him, her eyes wide and pleading. She looked up at him with confusion and longing, her lips slightly parted in anticipation.

“I want to see how well that mouth works when it isn't testing me,” Astarion whispered, this was about her teasing him earlier.

He marveled at this. Tav, on her knees naked. Just for his pleasure.

In her eyes, Astarion grew into this dominate person. Sure it was exciting but it also shook something inside her, like she was almost scared of his consequences.

Tav was at his mercy.

"Look up, and don't dare take your eyes off me." Astarion reached out for her face again and squeezed her cheeks, "Do you understand?"

Tav nodded her head with a soft, "Yes."

Again, his hand clutches her face in a tight squeeze,“Yes what?”

Tav spoke through the force of his hands pressing her cheeks together, “Yes master.”

Astarion clicked his tongue in admiration, and let go of her with a slight push. He slowly started to unravel his buckle, letting his trousers melt to the floor with his undergarments.

Tav could see his fingers unraveling himself from her peripheral, not daring to break her eye contact with him. And neither did he.

Astarion's erection popped up with the drop of his pants and he positioned himself close enough to push his head against Tav's lips, "Be a good pup." he purred.

She gapped her mouth enough to fit his tip on the base of her tongue. Tav wetted his slit before his hips greedily forced its way into her mouth. Astarion pump in and out a couple of times to prep her throat.

"That's it." His hips jerked against Tav's filled mouth, "Get it wet."

Tav looked up at Astarion, pleadingly as the heat between her legs tickled her inner thighs. Her tongue and lips wetted any skin she could wrap itself around.

Astarion then kneaded his fingers threw her thick locs, tightly grasping them before slamming his hips against her face. Tav toppled back slightly from the sudden force, but he quickly tugged her by the hair back into position. On her knees like a good girl.

The tip of his cock battered the back on her throat and her eyes quickly glossed over with tears as she struggled to keep eye contact with him.

"Don't -" Astarion groaned against the tightness of her throat, "Fuck - Don't you dare look away." He threatened Tav hoarsely between moans.

Tav grabbed onto his legs for support while continuously bobbing her head against his length. Her throat squeezed and gagged on his cock with each rough thrust.

It was unbearable. Tav could barely breathe and she struggled to moan with her mouth full of Astarion's length. The vibrations from her struggling hums only made him throw his back with ecstasy.

Tav tried to pull away, and for a moment she tugged back with a gasp escaping her lips.

"Oh, no you don't," Astarion put some distance between his legs, squatting slightly before both hands held onto Tav's head, "I'm going to fuck this mouth until I cum."

Tav's moans muffled as she nodded to his testament. The tears in her eyes began to stream down her face from his force. The preassure in her throat started to tighten around his cock, rewarding her with Astarion's sweet moans.

"That's it, fuck, that's a good girl."

His moans were something that stayed the same, even after ascending. And it was one of Tav's favorite things about him.

A whimper left Astarions lips, never breaking his half-lidded intense gaze from Tav. Every thought and action centered around fucking and possessing his dearest treasure.

Astarion felt himself getting closer to his climax, tightening his grip on Tav’s hair, pulling her closer and deeper into him. And with one last final thrust, he let out a low moan, filling Tav's mouth and throat with his white slick.

He could feel Tav hum against his skin, and when he pulled his cock out of her mouth, she stumbled down on her palms; coughing and gasping. Her head sunk low between her shoulders, desperately trying to catch her breath.

"Look at me." Astarion asserted between heavy breaths.

With watery eyes and reddened cheeks, Tav lifted her head as her chest heavily rose and fell. Her arms quivered and trembled from the intense moment.

Astarion was awed at the mess she made. He loved seeing the way her black makeup stained her cheeks, "Good pup. Now open your mouth - I want to see it."

Tav parted her lips, and the cum trickled down her bottom lip, down her jaw, and then to her neck. She stuck out her tongue to further push out his seed.

Astarion looked down at Tav with a mixture of gratitude and possession. She belonged to him.

He hummed in approval and swiped his thumb against her cummed bottom lip softly, "What a fucking mess you made..." He leaned over and hovered over her lips with a teasing whisper, "You're so beautiful when you choke on my cum."

Tav hung her head back down and tried to catch her breath. She felt defeated, horny, and unashamed as she replayed the look of pleasure of Astarions face in her head.

But it seemed she wasn't going to get anything in return, only the sweet memories of his climax. And this was Astarion's punishment to Tav, no attention to the begging heat between her legs.

Tav needed a moment to gather herself, there was no way she’d be able to stand right now with her shaky legs.

Astarion pulled his pants up and buckled himself back to normal. He stared down at the ruin he caused with a smug look on his face.

“You are just perfect.”

Next part here

See you next week for some party drama. Let me know if you’d like to be on a tag list, I’ll try my best to keep up :]

What’d you think about this chapter?

[secret-smut-sideblog]

I Should Hate You

Ascended Astarion x F! Tav

18+ confrontation, implied trauma/abuse, talks of death, ANGST, blood drinking, fighting (verbal), astarion being rough (physical), threats of violence against self, crying, tenderness, exes getting back together, dubcon, implied lack of control during sex, oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), disassociation

Tired of living in constant vigilance and fear, Tav has to confront the Vampire Lord. Even if it means her end. What she doesn't expect is the Ascendant doesn't want her dead at all...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-

"This is a bad idea, Tav."

"I know."

"Then don't go."

Shadowheart's wide green eyes stared deep into her. Hands cupped around her face.

"I cant-" Tav sighed, closing her eyes. "I can't live in fear anymore. Of him. Of what he might do when he finds me."

"We can leave the Sword Coast, we can go. Forever."

"That's not the point. And I wouldn't ask that of you."

"You could." Shadowheart's voice caught, planting soft kisses on her mouth. "You could ask me for anything."

"I know." Tav smiled warmly, leaning into her. Pressing their foreheads together. "I'm sorry."

They both knew what this meant. A life would be taken. Either her's, his, or both. She couldn't see an outcome without death either way. That made her heart ache but she couldn't go on this way.

Always in the shadows, skirting around the edge of society. How ironic, that she had refused his blood, his vampirism, but still lived like one. Even months on, walking with a hood on. Shrouded. Eyes down. Never looking at faces too long.

Who knew there was so much shame in freedom?

No it had to be this way. The last thread he had tied to her wrist must be severed.

She was not afraid to die. She hadn't been afraid for a long time. It wouldn't do any good to start now.

The streets looked as angelic in the soft lamplight as she had remembered. Cobblestones and passersby's. Hushed chatter from corners where couples stood. Rich as an oil painting.

Standing in shadow she took long deep breaths. Committing this view, this feeling to memory. Peace. The perfect intimacy of night.

Took a long steadying breath out.

Okay.

She lifted the hood off of her head, walking out into the soft light. Stood in it for one reverent moment. Knew it wouldn't take long. He had eyes everywhere.

She made a pointed look out, at the faces of men and animals alike. Come get me.

Walked on sure feet into the Elfsong.

"What can I do you fo-"

"Wait. It's you! Our hero! Welcome back, love!"

She smiled sheepishly. Reaching for her coinpurse.

"Ah, come on. I'm just a patron for tonight. One room, please."

"Come off it! No charge for you. I wish I could rent you your old lodgings but we've got a great room for you otherwise. Top floor!"

She smiled. Hopefully, they wouldn't have too much blood to clean up. "That sounds perfect, thank you Alan."

They chatted amicably as he led her up. Handing her the keys with a friendly clasp over her hands.

"If you need anything, anything at all. Truly don't hesitate."

The door closed solidly behind her, she kicked off her shoes. Lighting an oil lamp. Hanging her cloak.

Knew he was waiting, could feel it on the air.

If she was going to die she could at least be comfortable. Slipping into a long silk night shirt.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Okay.

She opened the window, the night air sweet and promising. Billowing the curtains gently. Turned to the vanity and sat down. Eyes closed.

The presence behind her was unmistakable.

Fingers caressing along her collarbone. Picking up the cut ends of her hair.

She shivered, eyes still closed.

"You know, you still feel like him." She hushed, wonder and sadness melded in her voice. "That's the cruelest part. If I could just pretend..."

She opened her eyes, his torso reflected in the mirror. "But I can see you."

"You always could, darling."

She laughed solemnly. "I think I was always pretending, wasn't I? Pretending that you loved me."

"Look at me, Tav."

"Why?" She asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "What good would that do? We both know why you're here." Her eyes steady on his body reflected behind her.

Felt him move before his reflection caught up with him.

Fingers rough on her chin, pulling her face up.

"Look at me."

Her eyes snapped up to his, full of contempt.

He looked... bad. Still perfectly manicured, of course, but with dark purple circles marred under his eyes. Skin pallid. Twitchy. An air of something barely controlled.

"You really did kill everyone, didn't you?" She hushed, jaw clenching under his hold.

He stared down at her, eyes scanning. Dark around his shrunken pupils, that deep red when he hadn't fed in a while.

"Where have you been?"

She stood, his fingers still on her chin. Reached up and held onto his forearm. Not pulling away but not leaning in.

"Away."

He laughed coldly. "Away. Right."

"Why are you here, Lord Ancunin?"

His eyes cut deadly to hers then. Stepping closer.

She stood her ground, feet spread.

Their eyes level with each other.

"I'm here to take back what is mine."

"You still think I'm your spawn, don't you? Didn't you have enough courtesan's to fuck and bleed? Or did you kill them too?"

His hand snapped down around her throat. Breathing hard through his nose.

She stared back, unflinching.

"I'm not afraid of you." She whispered. Aware those words could be her last.

His eyes flared, the muscle in his jaw popping.

His hand flashed forward and ripped the hidden dagger tied to her thigh away. Throwing it across the room.

"I want you back." His voice low, dangerous. Strained.

"I tried to replace you." He lifted her onto the vanity. The bottles crashing to the floor. "None of them. None of them were enough."

She stared up at him, trying to hide the shock in her face. Why was he saying this?

"Tav," He moaned, leaning into her neck. Fingers twisting her hair. Pushing between her legs.

Her body betrayed her then. It felt like him. Smelled like him. Her eyes falling closed.

"Oh Gods, Tav." He groaned, gripping her waist. Licking a hot line up her neck.

"It's not you." She said quietly to herself. Trying to break the spell. "You're not my love."

"Please, Tav." He moaned, hiking her nightgown up over her thigh. "Please, I'm so hungry." The bare need in his voice making her belly flip.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Her eyes prickled with angry tears. Gripping him tighter to her.

"I want you. I need you." His mouth pushed against her throat. "Please don't make me beg."

She was lost. Why was he asking for permission? Why was he asking at all?

This was not what she had envisioned. She had planned for everything but this.

And still, his hands, shaking and needful, pulled at her. How could this stranger pantomime him so well?

Before the words even left her mouth she knew it was a mistake.

"Starlight?"

He pressed his head into her, moaning low. Biting down desperately.

Fuck.

She gripped his arm, gasping. The familiar ice piercing her neck. The stark realization that she was now the meal of a starving animal. He was going to bleed her to her last drop.

Her mind raced as the gentle euphoria tried to take her. Something she used to treasure now lulling her into a false safety. She had fallen into a bear trap, neck first.

He was going to bleed her dry and change her. Make her his property, his puppet. She had to think fast.

She clenched her hand into a fist and arced it back as hard as she could, the mirror shattering against her back.

He was slow, lost in her throat. Only reacting when she held a shard of glass between them. Pressed to the other side of her neck.

"Release." She warned.

He paused, still latched on. Eyes moving fast between her hand, clamped down around the shard, blood dripping onto her nightgown. Her neck. Her eyes. Calculating.

"You know I'll do it. Release." She pressed the shard hard into her skin. The bite of the glass against her jugular.

He unlatched with a growl, lifting her off of the vanity and throwing her on the bed with inhuman strength. Catching her wrist tightly and throwing the shard hard against the wall. Shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

"There he is." She hissed. "The Lord Ancunin."

"You are coming back with me."

"You may take my body. You can hurt me, fuck me till I bleed, I don't care. You've done worse. But you will not have me." She laughed coldly. "My heart died with you years ago. But my will is mine."

She sat up on knees, eyes level with his again. Filled with fury. That same fury before she fell.

"You have killed me a thousand times, in little cuts you bled me. Of my hope. My love. It is spilled everywhere in that castle."

Her voice rising. "I have loved you through every tortuous night. Praying and PLEADING to every god that you could love me back. You were my everything. And you tricked me. Tricked me into thinking you could hold me above anything more than a fucking plaything! How dare you come to me and ask for more!"

Tears streaming angry down her face, holding her already bruising wrists up in a mock tie.

"Go on! Take! Take more from me! That's all you have for me, right?! That's our future! Take until I am NOTHING Astarion!"

Their joined breath was heavy in the tense silence as her words cracked through the air.

He stared at her, huffing hard. His chest rising and falling.

"If you force me, I will kill us both and burn that castle to ashes. I swear it." Closing her eyes, the old pain rocking through her again. Her wrists phantom stinging. "Don't make me do this, Astarion. I dont want to hurt you. Please dont make me."

Gripping at his arms, the grief poured out of her in a flood. Her face turning away from his in shame. "Why? Why couldn't it be different with me? You told me you loved me. I could have hated you. It would have been so much kinder to let me hate you. Why did you tell me you loved me?"

Her eyes opened and stared at him through thick water. Demanding an answer. "Did I not do enough? Did I not love you enough? What did I do to deserve this?"

He stared at her, bloody tears leaking from his eyes. Face cold as marble.

His warm hand cupped her cheek. Thumb wiping gingerly at the stream of grief.

"What have I done to you, my sweet?"

She flinched away from his touch on instinct.

His other hand came to cup her face.

"Please don't do that." He whispered, a vein of agony in his voice.

She could not trust this touch. Yet she yearned so desperately to be held by him again.

"Why are you being kind to me?" She laced her fingers through his, still pressed to her cheek.

"Because I-," He started, a hollow pain in his voice. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, eyes squeezing shut painfully. "No. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry, my love."

She choked back a sob. "Stop."

"I'm so sorry."

She kissed him to silence him. Gasping against his frightfully warm mouth. This wasn't him. She chanted in her mind. This wasn't him.

He threaded his hand through her hair, those familiar lips sliding against hers.

Why did he taste the same, feel the same? Those curls still soft against her seeking hands.

A new stream of tears flowing from her closed eyes. How cruel, for him to be as he was.

"Please, I want to pretend again." She urged, pulling at his doublet, the buttons giving in to her need. "Be sweet to me just one more time, Starlight."

He moaned out a mournful cry into her mouth. Hands pulling her nightgown over her head. "I will do anything for you, my treasure." Laying her back against the sheets. "Please let me show you."

She felt traitorous shivers go up her spine. He was still too beautiful. The silks and pressed linens of his doublet open, revealing the pale plane of his chest. Eyes so strikingly red, lashes long. Irises coursing with her ruby blood. Lips full and pouted. That soft pleading in his eyes.

"Yes, Star." Blinking away tears. "Let me believe you love me." She hushed, her lip trembling.

He kissed down her neck, hands drinking her in. Leaning his pelvis into her spread legs. The hard of his clothed length rubbing against her center.

She was lost in him again, eyes closing. Tight with tears. It had been so long.

His touch intoxicating, pulling the silk of need from her. Tongue crushed velvet against her writhing torso.

"Yes," She urged, head thrown back.

He ran his hot tongue down the sensitive skin inside her thigh, lidded eyes meeting hers. Snapping his doublet open with quick fingers and pulling it fluidly over his head.

"I need you." She whispered. It was never fair, what he did to her.

His eyes suddenly burned out red from the pupil, glowing hot crimson. Mouth falling open, fangs elongating. A rattling in the back of his chest. She realized he had stopped breathing entirely.

A strike of fear pulsed with her arousal. No, this wasn't him. This wasn't a man at all.

"Astarion," She called softly, trying to bring him back.

But he was gone.

His burning eyes darted down to her cunt. Fingernails lengthening into sharp points.

At inhuman speed he dove onto her. Laving hard stripes up and down her center.

She cried out, gripping the sheets. "Fuck," She yelped, already seeing stars.

The onslaught was vicious, his tongue pulsing fast and greedy. Face fully buried in her. Nose pushing up into her clit as he crushed his tongue into her.

Her hips continued to rise in an effort to get away and he only followed, head pushing higher.

"Oh my Gods," She nearly shrieked, the pleasure so intense her body tried to twist away.

He grabbed around her hips and stood on his knees, his ascended strength lifting her entire pelvis up with ease. Her legs falling forward over her chest. Only her shoulder blades still on the bed.

In this new position, he steered her back into his mouth. Burning red eyes glazed over, sharp nails digging into her ass hard enough to break skin. Ten drops of blood dripping down her back.

She clenched her legs together, whimpering loudly. Needing it to stop but her traitor body hungry for more.

He zeroed in on her clit, eyes focusing on her again. Two glowing points in the dim light. That rattling in his chest scaring her and striking a flint of heat through her core.

He clamped down and sucked hard, tongue pulling fast pulses against her engorged clit.

She writhed helplessly, moaning out prey cries. A rabbit caught.

"Please, please, I cant take it-" She whimpered loudly, her limbs tingling hot in warning. The ache in her pelvis nearly breaching.

Her vision went white as it hit her. Shrieking out as a perfect agony thrashed her against the stones. Drowning in the pleasure of his violence. Her body wrenching in a tortuous rhythm. Fucked to oblivion. Arching up, head hanging as he lifted her even higher. The blood rushing to her head threatening black stars in her vision.

"Stop," She gasped as his mouth continued to devour her. "Please, enough."

"Astarion, STOP!"

His eyes dimmed again, the red pulling away he let her drop, blinking. "Oh, oh my treasure. I-"

She curled onto her side. Pulling her legs hard into her body. Shaking and closing her eyes.

She was vaguely aware of him speaking above her but she was gone. Drifting away from her body. Seeing the room from far, far above herself. The world narrowing to a small point.

His hands shaking her brought her crashing back.

"Tav," He urged, looking deep in her eyes. "Tav, please speak to me."

"I want you to go." She whispered, looking foreign at him. "Please, go."

"No, please. I dont know what-"

"If you care as much as you pretend to, then please go."

He bit his lip, eyes scanning her face.

"I will find you again. I will make this right."

She layed her head back down, curling back into herself.

He pulled the sheets and blankets up over her. Pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I will see you again, my treasure."

And he was gone, whipping up into the wind, out the open window.

Left with the silence of the night, she let the slow tears leak down the side of her face.

What had she started?

~

Part 5