#*staggering - holding myself up against the wall - knees weak*

[videocore1984]

💀RHEA 🖤fucking🖤 RIPLEY💀

[animasola86]

Just another adventure, right?

My interpretation of the infamous Scriptorium scene:

2.2k words

Sebastian x gn!reader/mc (1st person POV)

hurt/comfort/fluff

(Original screenshot by @gamesscreens, this post here)

“Cast it on me,” I said and stared up at him in a determination I didn't know I still had in me.

“What?” Sebastian exclaimed. “No! You can't be serious!”

“What do you expect we do then?” I hissed, looking back to where Ominis was pacing up and down the dark corridor nervously. “Ominis refuses to have anything to do with this and I completely understand it. I don't see how I could ever cast the curse as well, but, since you know it, you should cast it. It's our only way out of this, Sebastian!”

He stared at me with his jaw clenched and his lips tight, his eyes dark and conflicted. Then he shook his head and turned away, staring at the door that kept us from leaving.

I walked up to him and placed a hand on his back, gently curling my fingertips against the fabric of his robes. He slightly stiffened at my touch, but then turned his head towards me.

“You can do this,” I whispered. “I trust you...”

He turned around fully, his height and dark demeanour towering over me like an even darker shadow in our grim surroundings.

“You trust me to hurt you?” He inhaled deeply. “I don't want to hurt you. I... can't do this... to you,” his voice was low, vibrating through my very core. “You realize I have to mean it... for it to work...” He shook his head and turned around again, his profile set. “And I certainly do not mean to hurt you...”

“Then pretend I'm somebody else!” I said with a sudden idea. I saw him frowning at that. “Here, I can even put up my hood and turn around!” I started grabbing my hood, but he quickly got a hold of my wrists. I stared up at him with my mouth open. “Sebastian, please!” I breathed. “I know it's a lot to ask, but... only you can do it.”

He looked at me with an intensity that made my heart hammer against my ribcage, that made my knees weak. A shiver ran down my spine as his fingers let go of my wrists and turned to the hood of my robes instead, as he very carefully pulled it over my head. His hands found my face and while his thumbs gently caressed my cheeks, he leaned down towards me. I could feel his breath on my lips as he brought his face even closer until he pressed his forehead against mine, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Just another adventure, right?” I heard him whisper, or rather I felt his voice humming deeply against my skin.

My hands found the front of his robes and I gingerly dug my fingers into them. “Yes,” I breathed.

He inhaled deeply, then leaned back up and pressed his lips quickly on my forehead. I looked up at him unable to say anything else. I couldn't imagine the turmoil (well, a little bit) raging inside of him. Perhaps if I had been forced to do this to him, I would have struggled in the same way, probably even more, considering I still found it hard to fight even the bad guys like goblins or Dark wizards. But to purposefully hurt someone you... loved...

I swallowed hard and turned around, facing the wall, showing him that I was ready (even though I clearly wasn't, I had no idea what to expect). I braced myself, but hearing his equally strained breaths behind me didn't really ease the knot that twisted my stomach. But it was nothing compared to what was to come.

His voice was almost cold, detached, when he shouted: “Crucio!”

The impact was immediate. Like a fiery hot breeze of the sharpest needles imaginable it rushed through me and then it spread. I heard my own screams echoing loudly off the walls as I staggered, sinking to my knees, my muscles tightening painfully. I grasped at my chest as my body convulsed in never ending spasms of agony, like tiny blades piercing my skin, penetrating deeply, twisting around mercilessly, through every fibre of my being. And it was lingering, sinking deeper, corrupting every nerve. I screamed and cried and my tears felt hot and raw on my hurting skin. All I felt was pain, there was nothing else.

Everything hurt.

And it took me the longest moment to realize that I was suddenly no longer alone on the floor. Two arms had wrapped themselves around my writhing form, holding me tightly pressed against a warm chest. And as the worst seemed to be over slowly, though I kept feeling the occasional twitch from my still highly stimulated nerves, I noticed the shaking of another body. Shuddering breaths that were not my own echoed in my ears. Then I felt his voice, puffed against the skin of my neck as he pressed his face against me.

“I'm so sorry,” Sebastian breathed barely audible, his voice shaking badly. “I... I didn't... want this...” He hugged me to his chest, held me as if I was slipping away, squeezed the pain away with every passing heartbeat. And I just lay in his arms, my head resting on his shoulder, trying to fight the urge to just let go and sleep... forever...

When I finally found the strength to move again, I raised my hands gingerly, snaking my arms around him, grabbing at the back of his robes. My movement caused him to hold me tighter, as he inhaled sharply. Then he leaned me back a little and our gazes met. His eyes were dark and clouded, the skin around them red, and his cheeks were wet. He looked at me with his eyebrows knitted and the saddest look I had ever seen on his freckled face. His lips were trembling. I swallowed hard, then winced at the still hurting sensation of it. His gaze immediately grew even darker and I heard him take an unsteady breath.

“Are you...” His voice broke before he could finish his question.

I slowly, weakly raised a hand to touch his face. My fingertips slid over his wet skin and when I did so, I saw a single tear leave the corner of his eye. He tried to blink it away, but I caught it with my thumb and gently caressed his cheek. I raised my other hand and grabbed his shoulder, trying to pull myself up a little. He helped me by pulling his arms tighter around my waist, lifting me onto his lap as he did so.

Now both my hands were holding his face and I held onto it as I pulled myself even closer to him, until his warm, shuddering breath ghosted my lips. “I'm fine,” I whispered, looking into his dark, conflicted eyes. “I'm fine,” I repeated as I caressed his face, my fingertips slipping between his dark, messy locks as my thumbs wiped at his heated skin. “It's alright...”

When he closed his eyes, a few more tears slipped from his lashes and the tension in his face eased a little. His hands clawed at the back of my robes, before they, too, relaxed and started rubbing my back gently. I breathed deeply against his slightly parted lips, my thumbs drawing circles on his cheekbones. The longest moment passed with my heart drumming against my ribs, as the last tremors of the curse slipped from my body.

I leaned in a little more, the tip of my nose nuzzling his skin, before I turned my head and pressed my cheek against his, merging the tears we had cried for and at the hand of each other. I felt him inhale sharply at that and his embrace became even tighter, to the point I had to push my elbows against his chest to not get completely smothered by the immense bear hug he was providing. “Sorry,” he breathed against me and loosened his grip with a tiny snivel.

I grabbed his face again and leaned back, and when he looked at me, his eyes were warm and intense. My thumbs found the corners of his mouth, my gaze wandering over the shape of his lips, and before I knew it, just when my body was finally relaxing again, I had closed my eyes and pressed my lips against his. It was just a short peck, out of instinct, but when I leaned back only the smallest bit, I felt his hand taking hold of my head, his fingers slipping into my hair as he held me close, and then it was him who pressed his lips against mine. It felt ten times more intense as he deepened the kiss, the warm feeling of his breath and the taste of his tears causing me to shiver against him.

His other hand found my face as my own hands wandered up and around his head to get lost in the thickness of his messy hair, my fingertips scraping over his scalp in a desperate attempt to hold onto anything to keep me from falling. But fall I did. Right into the warmth of his mouth, the safety of his embrace, the gentle caresses of his fingers. He tilted his head and adjusted his position beneath me, his lips closing around mine, gently sucking and pressing, tasting every inch of my mouth. I was utterly breathless when he eventually leaned back enough to allow my lips to part slightly, only to dive back in immediately at the sight of it.

I could feel his tongue gingerly pressing against my lower lip and I couldn't help but gasp as he pushed past it and slid into my mouth, my own tongue meeting his like a long awaited friend. (No. Lover.) I smiled at the thought, grabbing his hair tighter as I deepened the kiss by seemingly pressing my entire jaw against his. His hands grabbed my face, holding me in place as he circled his tongue around mine, now really tasting every inch of my mouth, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of my own.

I breathed loudly against him, completely forgetting everything around us, because there didn't seem to be anything else but the mouth and hands and taste and feel of the boy close to me, when a timid voice suddenly broke through the stupor of our kiss.

“Are... are you two alright? Can anyone say anything?” Ominis asked from the other side of the corridor, luckily completely oblivious to what was happening.

I felt Sebastian tense against me, the movement of his lips halted as he withdrew his tongue and leaned back only enough for us to lock eyes. I breathed against his lips, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. He smiled back feebly, his thumbs caressing my cheeks before he reluctantly let go and leaned back even more. I retrieved my hands from his hair, leaving it even messier than it was before. We looked at each other for another second, then I licked my lips and said, with my voice barely audible and slightly strained:

“I'm fine, Ominis, we're fine.”

“Did it work?” he asked and I heard his footsteps coming closer.

Sebastian quickly stood from our weird entanglement on the floor and helped me to my feet as well. I felt my knees shake, but I couldn't be sure if it was the curse or the kiss that had weakened them. While holding me with one arm, I saw him wipe at his eyes with the other, inhaling deeply as he did so. Then his gaze wandered past me towards the now open door and yet another room visible behind it.

“It did,” he said, his voice low and raspy.

I looked up at him, my hand finding his face. He met my gaze when my fingertips brushed his jaw. Before Ominis eventually reached us, Sebastian leaned down once more and gently pressed his lips against mine. I grabbed his face and kept him there just long enough, my lips desperate to feel his, until a deep sigh echoed through the corridor. We broke apart again and straightened up quickly.

“Could we please leave this place now?” Ominis said quietly, the glowing tip of his wand pulsing rhythmically in the air in front of him. For a moment I thought I saw a frown on his pale face and I blushed deeply when I wondered what he might have heard.

Yet as I saw the tiny smile on Sebastian's lips and the warmth inside his eyes, I knew I didn't care.

(Original screenshot by @deathlysallows, this post here)

Bonus:

Dear diary, today I had my first kiss with Sebastian. It was a wet one because we had both cried because, oh right, he had hit me with the Cruciatus Curse just before. I was in so much pain and he had been devastated about it and then it just happened. Hmm, yes, a moment I will never forget!

Bonus 2:

Ominis in the back, while the two of them are tongue deep inside the other's mouth: “You realize you're making out on top of the bones of my dead aunt, right?”

[muna-lesbians]

Josette knew she wasn’t built for parties like this. The music was pounding, the air was thick with sweat and beer, and the crowd seemed to be pulsating in time with the bass. She was leaning awkwardly against a wall, sipping at a drink she didn’t even like, when Naomi found her.

“You look miserable,” Naomi said, grinning as they nudged Josette’s shoulder.

“I am miserable,” Josette replied flatly, swirling the drink in her plastic cup.

“Why’d you even come?”

“Because you and Katie said it would be fun, and I don’t know, maybe I thought it wouldn’t suck as much as the last time,” Josette said.

Naomi laughed, their eyes scanning the room. “Yeah, okay, valid. You need anything? A rescue mission?”

Josette waved them off. “Nah, I’ll survive.”

“Alright, well, if you need me, I’m by the beer pong table with Katie and Franki. Don’t let this party kill you, okay?”

Josette offered a weak smile as Naomi disappeared back into the throng of people. She sighed, resigned to a night of bad music and worse company, when a particularly loud cheer erupted from a group nearby.

She turned to see what the commotion was about and immediately felt her stomach flip. A tall, magnetic woman with striking features was holding court in the kitchen, laughing as she poured shots for a small group. She had an easy confidence that drew people in, and Josette found herself unable to look away.

“Okay, Josette, chill,” she muttered to herself, taking another sip of her drink.

But then, as if the universe had heard her, the woman turned her head and caught Josette’s eye. She smiled—just a small, fleeting thing—but it was enough to make Josette’s heart race.

“Oh no,” Josette whispered.

Before she could embarrass herself further, she ducked into the nearest hallway, looking for a quieter place to regroup. She found the bathroom, thankfully empty, and locked the door behind her.

The room spun slightly as she held on to the bathroom counter, gripping the edge for balance. She’d promised herself she’d stick to one drink, but that plan had evaporated sometime around the third vodka soda Naomi handed her. “Get it together,” she told her reflection.

But the sudden rush of adrenaline, combined with the two drinks she’d downed earlier, made her stomach churn. She sank to her knees just in time for her body to reject the night’s poor decisions.

“Great,” she groaned, wiping her mouth with some toilet paper.

A sharp knock startled her.

“Occupied!” Josette called out, louder than necessary.

“It’s been ten minutes!” a voice replied, muffled by the door.

“Then wait ten more!” Josette snapped, wincing at how shaky her voice sounded.

She groaned, closing her eyes and willing the nausea to subside. Suddenly, the door opened.

“Sorry,” came a calm, amused voice. “Bobby pins always do the trick.”

Josette whirled around—or tried to. She tried to stand up but stumbled. A pair of steady hands caught her before she could hit the floor again.

“Whoa, easy there,” said the intruder, who was tall, sharp-featured, and annoyingly gorgeous.

Josette blinked, trying to focus. “What the hell? You can’t just barge in—”

“I think I just did,” the woman said, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “I’m Kelli. And you are?”

“None of your business!” Josette slurred, though it came out less intimidating than she’d hoped.

“Fair enough,” Kelli said, helping Josette to steady herself. “You don’t look so great. Need help?”

“I’m fine,” Josette insisted, though her stomach churned in protest.

Kelli raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Fine people don’t lock themselves in bathrooms at parties.”

Josette groaned. “Why are you even here?”

“I was pouring myself a drink when I saw some poor girl staggering down the hall. Figured I’d make sure you weren’t dying.”

“Well, I’m not dying,” Josette muttered, sitting down on the closed toilet lid. “Just regretting my life choices.”

Kelli leaned against the sink, arms crossed, studying her with a mix of amusement and concern. “You’re kind of funny for a drunk, you know that?”

“I’m not drunk,” Josette said defensively, though the wobble in her voice gave her away.

Kelli laughed, a low, melodic sound that made Josette’s stomach flutter. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“Okay, maybe I’m a little drunk,” Josette admitted, burying her face in her hands.

“Thought so,” Kelli said. “Want some water? I think I saw a stash in the kitchen.”

Josette shook her head. “No, thanks. I just… I need a minute.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the muffled sound of the party bleeding through the thin bathroom walls.

“So,” Kelli said, breaking the quiet. “What’s a cool girl like you doing at a lame party like this?”

Josette snorted, peeking up at her. “Cool girl? You clearly don’t know me.”

“Well, I’m trying to,” Kelli said with a grin. “Help me out here.”

Josette hesitated, but something about Kelli’s easy confidence made her relax. “My friends dragged me here. Said I needed to ‘get out more.’”

“And?”

“And I hate it,” Josette admitted.

“Yeah, it’s pretty terrible,” Kelli agreed. “But hey, you met me. That’s a win, right?”

Josette rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Bold of you to assume.”

Kelli stepped closer, leaning down slightly so they were at eye level. “Is it, though?”

Josette’s heart skipped. She blamed the alcohol, the dim lighting, and the fact that Kelli was objectively very attractive. “You’re kind of full of yourself, huh?”

“Only when I’m right,” Kelli said, her voice softening.

Josette’s breath caught as Kelli’s gaze dropped to her lips, lingering just long enough to make her pulse quicken.

“You’re trouble,” Josette murmured, though there was no heat in her words.

“Maybe,” Kelli said. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

Before Josette could overthink it, she leaned in, brushing their lips together in a tentative, testing kiss. They both froze for half a second, then melted into it. Josette’s hands instinctively reaching for Kelli’s shoulders to steady herself.

When they broke apart, Josette’s eyes searched hers, cautious. “Okay?”

Kelli nodded, her cheeks warm. “Yeah. Definitely okay.”

They stayed like that for a moment, the chaos of the party forgotten.

“So,” Kelli said eventually, her tone light, “what do you say we get out of here? My place isn’t far, and I’ve got water, snacks, and zero drunk frat boys.”

Josette hesitated, her brain still catching up with everything she had just done. But when Kelli held out her hand, steady and inviting, she found herself taking it without a second thought.

“Lead the way,” Josette said, her voice steadier now.

As they slipped out of the bathroom and into the cool night air, Josette realized that maybe her friends had been right. Sometimes, getting out more really did have its perks.

-

Kelli’s apartment was a modest but cozy space just a short walk from the party. By the time they arrived, Josette was leaning heavily on Kelli’s arm, her drunkenness hitting in full force as the adrenaline of their kiss began to wear off.

“I’m sorry,” Josette mumbled as Kelli guided her onto the couch. “I don’t usually… I mean, I’m not always like this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kelli said, kneeling down to unlace Josette’s boots. “Everyone has their moments. Besides, you’re kind of adorable when you’re drunk.”

Josette groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t feel adorable. I feel like death.”

“Well, let’s fix that,” Kelli said. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned a minute later with a glass of water and a small bowl of pretzels. “Here. Sip this, and maybe eat something if you can.”

Josette took the glass with shaky hands, drinking slowly. “Thanks,” she murmured.

Kelli sat beside her, close but not too close, watching her carefully. “You’re doing great,” she said, her voice soft. “Just take your time.”

Josette nibbled on a pretzel, then leaned back against the couch with a sigh. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know. I could’ve just… slept in the bathroom or something.”

“Not a chance,” Kelli said firmly. “You’re not a bathroom-floor kind of girl. At least, not on my watch.”

Josette chuckled weakly. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough,” Kelli said with a smirk.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Josette slowly regaining her composure. She felt her eyelids growing heavier, the warmth of the room and Kelli’s quiet presence lulling her into a haze of drowsiness.

“Hey,” Kelli said gently, noticing Josette’s head starting to tilt to the side. “Why don’t you lie down? You can take my bed—I’ll crash here on the couch.”

Josette shook her head, though the movement made her slightly dizzy. “No, no, I can’t kick you out of your own bed.”

“Josette,” Kelli said, her tone patient but firm. “You need to rest, and I’m fine with the couch. End of discussion.”

Josette hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. But… will you stay for a bit? Just until I fall asleep?”

Kelli smiled. “Of course.”

She helped Josette to her feet and guided her to the bedroom, where she pulled back the covers and tucked her in. The sheets smelled faintly of lavender, and the bed was impossibly soft.

Kelli perched on the edge, smoothing Josette’s hair away from her face. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Josette whispered, her eyes fluttering shut. “Thanks, Kelli.”

“Anytime,” Kelli said, her voice low and soothing.

As Josette drifted off, she reached out, her fingers brushing against Kelli’s. “Stay,” she murmured again, half-asleep.

Kelli hesitated for only a moment before lying down beside her, careful to keep a respectful distance.

When Josette woke up the next morning, groggy but feeling significantly less terrible, she turned to find Kelli still there, her light hair messy against the pillow and her expression peaceful in sleep.

Josette smiled to herself, the events of the night slowly coming back to her. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad party after all.

[nunchigoya]

Chapter 1: Iku

Rain hangs heavy in the clouds. Residuals are so predictable. They always attack in poor weather, but I don’t have time for this. The residual slams its heel into my stomach, bile rises to the back of my throat as I slide back, dirt kicks up around me. The trees we’d already taken out in our fight create a ring around us. Something is wrong.

The residual stands across from me. Tendrils of inky smoke waft off its half-formed body. Half here to finish its final task, and half gone because it takes too much aura to stay where you don’t belong. Its aura presses at my domain. A residual wouldn’t have enough aura to spare to form a domain. While my domain is solid around me, a barrier between me and everything else, my aura weighs on me, slowing me down. My head spins, the world around me slipping in and out of focus. This should be an easy fight. Residuals are weak, barely able to hold their form, let alone have enough power to injure someone as strong as me… but this one did. I press my hand against the slash that burned across my side, blood dribbling over it. Its razor-like fingers curl and uncurl at its sides, ready to take another piece of me. It shouldn’t have been able to touch me at all. I need to end this now. I focus my aura into my side, just enough to keep myself from bleeding out before I can finish this stupid thing off. What a stupid death. Bleeding out. If I had to die before killing my father, then it should have been in the fire. Not here. Not now. Not from something as stupid as bleeding out.

I lunge at the residual, my aura shivering near it. Its own aura pushes against my domain, grazing it with the texture of a rusty blade. Its presence lingers around the gash in my side, jagged and raw. I don’t like this. The residual doesn’t make any vocal sounds, but its aura collides with my domain, ripples of its essence lapping against my invisible walls as if it’s laughing. It strikes out again with its more human hand, nailing me in the side. My cut needs to be cleansed before the residual’s tainted aura infects mine. I reach for my center. There’s more to use inside me. Even if my master wouldn’t agree, I can feel it. An endless pull at my fingertips whenever I needed it.

Don’t take too much, aura is life energy. If you use too much, you’ll have none left to live with.

My master’s words play on a loop in my head. The hundreds of warnings she gave me every time I tried to pull too much from my center.

Know when you are not using enough. You’ll never get stronger playing it safe.

There is more to spare. My aura comes when I reach for it, slithering out from my center where all excess aura is stored. Patiently, I coax it out. The boost it’ll give just on the tips of my fingers when my center clenches and my grasp slips, and I stagger to the side.

“Damn it!” My breath puffs out in ragged gasps. “What’s wrong with me?” My hand presses firmly against my wound to staunch the bleeding. I should be able to take this thing no problem. I’ve seen worse.

It looms over me with its razor hands and its frame twice the width of an average man. Its malicious aura intensifies and the rusted blade-like texture grinds against my domain, threatening to break through if I lose my grip again. I underestimated it. It’s that simple. It’s that stupid.

“Your aura is so strong.” Its voice hisses out in a garbled whisper.

It talks? Residuals can’t usually form vocal cords.

“It’ll keep me full for weeks.” The residual’s aura ripples against mine again and a subtle tug pulls at my center. My aura… it’s… it’s absorbing it! A residual siphon is rare. In my whole life, I had never seen even one. Only heard my own master mention it in passing. A siphon… just my luck.

“That makes more sense.” My knees give out, and I hit the ground, the grass acting as a cushion. “But knowing doesn’t actually help me at this point!” This far… I made it this far, and I couldn’t even win against this weakling? So close.

[mianavs]

the assault

In Lima with You part 4

a/n: this marks the beginning of the end for this story. like previous parts in this story and it’s predecessor, there’s some messed up stuff going on in this part.

tw: non-con, dark content, nsfw, violence

wc: 1.7k+

In Lima with You

You had been scrubbing for a good thirty minutes, yet the bright red from the tomato sauce you’d spilled on your living room carpet was still there.

Glaring at you

Mocking you

Wiping off the beads of sweat that trickled down your brow with the back of your hand, you ran the scrubby through the bucket of soapy water that was now a milky salmon color. After wringing the scrubby of the excess liquid, you went back to scrubbing that spot while ignoring the growing ache in your fingers and the knot in your neck.

It’d been a careless mistake, spilling your spaghetti while your mind had been elsewhere—a common occurrence since the night your fragile world fell apart when Dabi walked out on you.

Almost as careless as the mistake of letting your captor into your heart where he left a mark that spread until it encompassed the entire thing.

A mistake you were now paying the price for, on your hands and knees trying to scrub the mark stain away only to realize it had spread in spite of your efforts.

You fell back on your haunches and threw the scrubby into the bucket. It had been five days since you’d last seen Dabi, and you were starting to lose it.

Every time you heard footsteps outside of your front door, you would rush over and swing it open only to face nothing or a bewildered stranger. The room that had once suffocated you with warmth was now frigid and made it difficult for you to fall asleep in. Your mornings started with you waking from a nightmare that almost always involved Dabi’s death. While at the beginning of his absence you could still go about your day cooking, cleaning, or engaging in a hobby, you eventually spiraled into a depression that made it hard for you to even get out of bed.

Not only was Dabi the death-sentenced protagonist of your nightmares but he was also on your mind all day. His face during your last argument was one that had been burned into your memory. You could still see the blank look that flashed in his cerulean eyes, the twitch of his mutilated mouth, and then the shock that seeped from every pore in his body as he staggered away from your enraged form.

You’d been the one wronged that day, yet Dabi was the one that fled, leaving you with an all-consuming guilt. It didn’t make sense but then again neither did the overwhelming pain festering away in your heart the more time passed without seeing him, touching him, loving him.

Love. It was a ridiculous notion when you thought about it.

Dabi had been the monster that kidnapped you. He’d broken you down physically and mentally to mold you into the obedient darling you now were, but even with the plethora of scars all over your body, you couldn’t help but feel empty without him. Even with the door unlocked and nothing chaining you down to your shared condo, you would leave only to roam around the city for a couple of minutes before a panic seized your entire body; It was that suffocating panic that forced you back home to the comfort of your bed that still smelled of Dabi’s musk and smoke.

You loved Dabi.

You needed Dabi.

So as you dumped the soapy water down the kitchen sink and washed out the bucket, you mulled over your options in tracking Dabi down to tell him how you felt. Then just as you were putting the bucket away, the muffled sound of footsteps captured your attention and you dashed to the front door on impulse.

Where a scarred face with a wicked grin should have greeted you, there was only a red winged man with astonished eyes.

“Y/N,” Keigo breathed. “You’re really here.”

You looked behind him, searching for the man you actually wanted to see. When it was clear he wasn’t there, you turned to your former friend.

“Where else would I be?” You asked before stepping aside to let him in.

“I assumed you’d be with the League,” He answered amusedly, walking in while you shut the door behind him. “But I guess this was a no ex-heroes type of mission.”

“Where’s Dabi?” The question burst from your lips before you could think it through.

Keigo’s smile faltered at your desperate inquiry, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Last I heard they were two cities away wreaking havoc in true League fashion.”

You raised an eyebrow at his mocking tone. “Sounds like you don’t approve of the mission.”

Keigo laughed at that and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. “How about we drop the act, Y/N. It’s just you and me. Dabi isn’t here to punish you.”

His eyes traveled to a fading scar on your forearm before returning to your face. “We both know that what they’re doing is wrong.”

A bitter laugh tore from your throat as you approached him. “So the HPSC selling me for some intel is right? Them drugging me and sending me off to an orphanage is right? How about them trying to sabotage my career? Does all of that seem right to you, Keigo?!”

You were now in front of him, and he had the decency to appear sheepish after your rant. He averted his gaze and said nothing while you let out an exasperated sigh and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t give me that right or wrong crap.” You retorted when your anger simmered. “Hero society deemed me a villain before giving me a chance to prove myself. I won’t stand in the League’s way if they want to bring it down.”

Keigo’s hand shot out and wrapped around your elbow, fingers pressing into one of your scars. You tried shaking him off but Keigo didn’t relent.

“What about the thousands of innocent civilian lives that will be ruined because of them? Will you also stand aside when they’re screaming for their lives?”

His golden eyes bore into yours and memories of a certain mission hit you like a ton of bricks. You remembered the room full of children that you’d saved with Keigo, and for the first time in weeks, you hesitated in defending Dabi and the League’s actions.

“We’re targeting the heroes and the HPSC, not civilians.” You reasoned, wrenching your arm from his grasp.

“We’re?” Keigo sneered, backing you against a wall. “Are you serious?”

At his aggressiveness, the alarms in your head went off but indignation muffled them. You jutted out your chin defiantly. “Yeah, I am. As long as Dabi remains in the League, I will too because... I-I love him and tha—”

Keigo smashed his lips against yours and took hold of your hands before pinning them above your head. Unlike the first kiss he stole from you, this one was harsh and meant to punish. He claimed your mouth with his invading tongue while you wrestled against his bruising grip. It wasn’t until you realized he wouldn’t let up that you bit down on his tongue until he hissed in pain and released you with a curse.

With the metallic taste of Keigo’s blood in your mouth, you tried recovering your breath only to hear a harsh thump that was immediately followed by pulsating pain on the side of your head. You doubled over from the sheer force of Keigo’s blow that left you debilitated and vulnerable.

And that was exactly what Keigo wanted.

In your stupor, you were picked up like a ragdoll and thrown onto your bed, landing face down on a pillow. The sudden motion only worsened what you assumed was a concussion. As a sharp ringing assaulted your ears, all you could do was grip the sheets beneath you in a weak attempt to stop the room from turning.

So when rough hands pulled off your shorts and ripped off your flimsy lace panties, you were too busy burrowing your spinning head in a pillow and swallowing bile to put up a fight. The severity of the situation finally registered with you when you felt the bed dip and rough hands lift your waist until you were on your knees.

By the time your body reacted, it was too late. Keigo pressed you into the mattress with your hands pinned behind your back as he settled between your legs and spread them open with his body.

His cockhead prodded at your entrance a couple of times before he forced it into your dry cunt in one harsh thrust. Horrified and unprepared, you screamed into the pillow that still smelled of Dabi while Keigo violently took you from behind like an animal.

Pain was all you knew throughout Keigo’s assault. It pulsated in your head until it felt like your skull was being split in half. It coursed through your arms that were pushed together and pressed into your back. It ripped through your cunt as Keigo’s cock rammed into you without mercy.

Concussed, restrained, and without your quirk and voice, all you could do was lie there and wait for your body to produce the slick you oh-so desperately needed to ease the ache in your cunt.

Without changing the pace of his hips, Keigo leaned over you and grunted into your ear.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N? I’m doing this because I love you and right now you’re sick. That so-called love you feel for that bastard is a disease. You have Stockholm Syndrome and I’m gonna cure you with each load I shoot up your womb.”

He let out a chuckle and licked the shell of your earlobe, causing bile to surge up your throat. Unable to swallow it down any longer, you used all the strength you could muster to jerk your head over the bed’s edge.

As you regurgitated that day’s lunch, Keigo’s thrusts ceased and he released you with a disgusted grunt.

“Rude bitch,” he growled, pulling you by your hair and pressing his torso against your body. “I tell you I love you and that’s how you react?”

Keigo shoved your face into the mattress and you writhed beneath his weight and grip as your lungs were depleted of oxygen. When your limbs went limp against the bed and black specks stained your vision, the last thing you heard was Keigo’s honeyed words delivering your sentence for falling for your captor.

“Guess I’ll have to take you away from him for you to be cured.”

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Four

I would say this is where the plot really kicks up. Especially next chapter.

\\ Warnings: blood, violence, guns //

Home was quiet under the overcast winter sky. A blanket of snow covered everything in sight. Scott shoved his hands in his pockets and shivered away the chill creeping down his back. It was beginning to snow more heavily as the evening set in on the server.

Winter never faired well with him, it made his hands and knees weak, and stuck him with a near constant headache. Most ailments rendered him bedridden if it was cold enough outside. He hoped he wouldn’t get sick.

Jimmy had hurried them into Scott’s home quickly after entering the walls. It wasn’t really Scott’s anymore as both of them had been sharing the space for quite a while. There was evidence of each of them strewn about.

It could do with some cleaning but the clutter made it feel more natural.

Safer, perhaps.

Scott took his shoes and jacket off. He left them near the door so no muck would get tracked into the house. It was cold inside from a week of being neglected, not a lamp had been left on after he went to see the Sand People.

One glance at his bed proved to be the nail in the coffin. He climbed into the loft and lay down, his head hit the pillow and he was out.

*****

Water trickled across the ceiling. It dropped down and landed on Scott’s cheek. Plunk Plunk Plunk.

Scott blinked into awareness and looked for the source of his awakening, only to find that it was completely dark. Panic surged through him and he sat up quickly only to hit his head on a hard surface. His hands flew out in surprise and hit two stone walls.

“What,” he breathed.

The floor beneath him was damp from perpetual rain seeping into the cell.

“No,” he whispered repeatedly.

The darkness was suffocating this time, he couldn’t calm down, he knew he’d run out of air eventually. Maybe the lack of oxygen was finally making him go crazy, imagining the walls were getting closer and closer. Scott pushed himself up against the corner and hugged his knees to his chest.

The water that woke him up seemed to flow more like a waterfall now. It hit the jagged floor and slowly approached the corner Scott had decided to glue himself to, but it didn’t stop. The water only grew deeper and deeper. He was too tired to even care. Death seemed like a more peaceful option then trying to escape.

He would drown in his tomb alone, and they would get away with it.

*****

Scott’s eyes flew open. This time not to a completely dark stone tomb, but a softly moonlit bedroom. His bedroom.

A weight from behind him made itself known.

Jimmy must have gotten into bed with him earlier that night. The covers were pulled over both of them.

Scott turned around and leaned into his sleeping husband’s arms, taking a few moments to assure himself of his surroundings; and that he was safe at home.

Sensing that his night of sleep had been cut short, Scott meticulously unwrapped himself from Jimmy’s arms and replaced himself with a pillow.

His socks masked most of the noise he made as he exited the room and partially closed the door behind him. It was deathly silent when he unhooked his coat (the one he didn’t ruin) from its place on the wall, equipped his boots, and slipped outside.

The contrast of warmth from inside to outside made Scott’s eyes water. His hands were safe inside his mittens when he brushed some snow off his front steps and sat down.

It was a bit windy outside, breeze funneled through the valley and into the Hobbit town. It bounced off the hills and dissipated into the air. Scott wished he’d brought his telescope so he could admire the sky, which was clear at the moment. A lonely band of the Milky Way sliced across the cosmos to the west.

Stargazing always filled him with a feeling of yearning. He couldn’t remember why, or even when it had started, but ever since he found himself on this server with borders and rules he felt out of place. Not just in the way he looked, but being grounded for so long. Scott had trouble understanding the ways of this world. It was obvious that he didn’t quite fit.

The snow had died down since they arrived hours earlier, nobody had cleared it for a while so it was near shin deep. Every inch of the landscape was buried, including the entrance to their enchanting room, and all the flowers that would typically adorn the forest floor.

Something was wrong.

Scott couldn’t put his finger on it. Coming to alertness, he scanned the scenery like a hawk until he saw it.

Footprints.

Fresh. Footprints.

Directly in front of his home, they came right up to the first step and no further. There was multiple sets fanning out across the lawn area. He could see all three sets from his perch.

Scott froze with fear. Someone had paid a visit in the middle of the night while they were asleep. He wondered why, but he knew.

He was about to get up and lock himself inside when he felt something step on the creaking stairs right behind him. Scott’s eyes flicked to the side for a split second before he instinctively stood up and attempted to flee down the remaining steps, but he didn’t make it.

A hand instantly wrapped around his forearm and wrenched him backwards, he fell into an armored torso. A gloved hand clapped over his mouth, and an arm snaked under his own to render them paralyzed.

“It would be in your best interest not to scream Major,” a terrible Scottish accent made itself known. Scott nearly rolled his eyes.

Of course, this dramatic fool had to come and ruin his night. One thing was for certain, he was not getting kidnapped again.

A sharp object poked at his ribs.

“Just a precaution,” someone said in a falsely apologetic tone. No doubt it was Skizzle.

That meant that he was being immobilized by Martyn. He should have known really, that man followed the Red King anywhere. Upon the ladder’s orders, he escorted Scott down the steps and across the snow stricken grounds, just next to Jimmy’s “house” that they’d mainly been using as storage for the odds and ends that didn’t fit in Scott’s place.

The hand was removed from his jaw and he jolted his head away with a mirthful expression. He fixed his eyes directly where he assumed Ren’s were beneath his sunglasses; which he was wearing in the dead of night. Asshole.

Skizzle stood next to Ren with an imposing posture, as Martyn had a free hand to hold his own weapon with. The weapon being an enchanted diamond axe which he held with a sort of pride.

“You know,” Ren began, “I must give it to you Major, that escape you pulled off was impressive,” he spoke in an unbothered manner and ground his foot upon a rock somewhere under the snow.

“Why are you doing this, Ren?” Scott cut to the chase. He was uninterested in games.

“You aren’t even a red lifer. You can’t kill me,” he added.

Ren scoffed. He adjusted his glasses, “and who exactly is policing that rule?” he said with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow.

“Grian?”a beat passed, “you?!” he began to laugh to himself. Skizzle and Martyn joined in momentarily.

“More green lifers have killed people than red at this stage, so don’t get on me about that,” he said.

“These are my walls,” Scott pointed out.

“That’s funny, you didn’t seem to have much respect for our walls earlier did you,” Martyn said close to Scott’s ear. He pulled away.

“Can I at least be let in on why you’re picking on me of all people?” Scott asked with no enthusiasm.

“Don’t tell me you went on and forgot that Timmy dearest is responsible for the deaths of myself and Skizzle,” Ren shot back, leaning into the other’s personal space.

Everyone looked between each other, “among other things,” Ren added.

Skiz nodded in agreement and sent a meaningful glare towards Scott’s house, where a dim light was on in the bedroom.

Scott’s mouth hung open in rueful shock, “that’s what all this is about? It was an accident,” he shouted. Which earned him a light punch in the side.

“Be quiet,” Martyn warned.

“You know he didn’t mean it! He was sorry and you know it. The only reason you’re even here right now is because it was an accident. Don’t do this to him,” Scott half pleaded but he was more angry.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. You’re buddy buddy with the people who want to kill us too. Hmm, maybe you are familiar with the term ‘covering our bases’?” Ren added.

“This isn’t all about your perfect little life Major,” Ren dropped the accent and took Scott by the front of his jacket.

“Things are going to change around here for all of us, and it starts with your Timmy paying his dues,” he said.

Scott’s face pulled into a scowl. He thrust his head forward vigorously, the plastic CRACK of Ren’s sunglasses on impact split through his ears as he saw the “Red” King stagger backwards.

Before his goons could decide their next moves Scott lifted his foot up behind him quickly, glad he’d decided to wear his heavier boots on a whim as they collided with an unfortunate set of unmentionables.

The owner of the unmentionables keeled over. He all but threw the axe out of his hands, which Scott graciously took for himself. He tore himself free and swung around, bringing the back of the axe down on Martyn’s bowed head. Purposefully omitting the sharpened blade from the equation.

Skull met stick with a loud THWACK; and Martyn’s body went limp. The Hand fell on his side into the snow with a muffled thump.

Scott admired his work for a moment and considered it even for the lingering purple bruise still on the side of his own face.

There was no time to waste though, he turned back to the remaining members of Dogwarts with a new feeling of control.

Ren’s face was still buried in his hands. No doubt sporting a wicked nosebleed from being head-butted. His glasses were nowhere to be found. Somewhere in the deep snow.

Scott’s attention turned to Skiz now. Who was in battle position.

It was not a fair fight by any means. The Red Army was decked out in their signature crimson dyed armor (not great for sneaking around but they weren’t much into that) and their iconic shields which Scott thought were a bit ugly.

Nobody was immune to quick thinking though. Even with all that armor, a man can’t be immune to a kick in the nuts.

Skizzle made the first move. He pushed off his heel and swung his sword vertically in Scott’s direction. The ladder, shieldless, jumped out of the way. Skizzle regained his composure and ran after him like a blood sniffing shark. Scott ran away from him in as dead a sprint that can be achieved in knee deep snow, letting his pursuer gain some momentum before he sharply turned around and plunged his axe blade into the thick wood of Skiz’s shield.

The aforementioned momentum caused Skiz to keep moving while his Sheild was ripped from his arm attached to the sharp blade of Scott’s (new) shiny axe. Both of them fell over in the snow.

Wanting to get the jump, Scott staggered to his feet and sat on top of Skizzle to keep him on the ground. They pushed back and forth with their respective blades until Scott was thrown off the other, who immediately slashed his sword at him but missed by a hair.

Scott rolled away clumsily with the shield on his arm and used the handle of his axe to stand up just in time for another barrage of slashes that audibly cut through the air. Scott blocked them with his shield and with the hilt of his axe, managing to repel his opponent for enough time to get his share of hits.

“You’re using the wrong side of the axe, man!” Skizzle pointed out after being beat a few times with the non-lethal side of Scott’s weapon, which he was using his armored forearms to fend off.

“Would you rather me use the other?” Scott replied.

They went back and forth in a struggle to gain control of their respective fights, of which had seen them travel to the corner of the Hobbits’ walls where two hills flattened out and created an amphitheater with a perfect stage in the center.

The metallic clashing of weapons filled the area, Skizzle managed to wrap Scott in a chokehold, the shield had been thrown to the sidelines amongst the struggle, with a blade growing ever nearer to his throat. Scott held off the oncoming sword by brute strength alone, his hand braced against his opponent’s forearm and shook with the effort.

“This is it for you,” Skizzle strained, “no more games,” he said.

Scott answered with a war cry. He knocked the other’s chest with his elbow and threw both of them forwards a bit, just enough to wriggle free and get away from the blade. While Skiz wasn’t guarding his midsection, Scott jabbed the handle of his weapon into the space between Skiz’s chest plate and armored leggings.

A breathless cough was all that came from the man behind him, followed by a drawn out whine, then a satisfying thud and the clunking of armor as it fell into the snow.

There was no place to celebrate his victory however, when a very angry, bloody nosed king strode up to the crime scene. Ren’s expression told Scott that he wasn’t a fun target to play with anymore. Tougher than he looked, perhaps.

The leader of Dogwarts trudged menacingly up to Scott, who made to raise his weapon but instead was greeted by a fist in his face. The force threw him to the ground, where Ren’s heavy red boot descended upon his chest. A blade sliced into the hard ground next to Scott’s ear. His axe was yanked from his hands and thrown somewhere behind them by Ren.

“Alright Major. Perhaps I underestimated your capabilities,” Ren practically spat, “It’s a shame really. You would have been such an attractive addition to the Red Army,” he said with a mocking sadness.

“That was supposed to be your sales pitch?” Scott strained.

Scott could feel rivulets of blood flowing down his face from his nostrils, it seeped into his mouth and tasted like he’d eaten iron shavings. His hands were clasped around Ren’s ankle and foot, trying to alleviate the stress that was on his rib cage. He liked being able to breathe after all.

“You’ve clearly proven too much for my army to handle,” Ren jerked Scott by the front of his shirt, as if he was the one to blame for his army’s failure.

“But I digress. I guess I’ll kill you now,” the Red King smiled down at him with a devious grin, and shoved him harshly to the ground.

Scott could see that his eyes were a striking yellow, set back in his head a bit so that they were perpetually shadowed by his eye sockets. Strands of white and brown hair fell around his face, and his right ear twitched upon his head.

His vision was swimming dangerously close to blacking out as Ren hoisted his weapon, a glimmering diamond axe with a gold accented handle, above his head. Scott shut his eyes and prepared for the cold hard inevitable when a loud POP ricocheted off the amphitheater walls. Followed by a dull plunk.

The axe fell from Ren’s hands like it was knocked away. He jumped like he’d been startled. His eyes were blown wide, and Scott thought he might look scared.

Ren raised a shaky hand to his right shoulder, turning it a bit so he could see, he gently touched the surface of his arm. His fingertips came back covered in a layer of blood.

He began to slowly turn around, Scott sat up on his elbow to follow his line of sight.

Standing in the entrance to the amphitheater, in the snow that had been disturbed by the previous altercation, was a furious looking Jimmy.

His hunting rifle was still raised and aimed at the Red King, smoke poured from the barrel and floated into the frigid air.

Ren stood up and faced Jimmy, an out of place smile gracing his countenance.

“Well! Looks like we have a full party now, I was wondering when the special guest was going to show up,” he teased.

“Your little friend here put up quite the fight,” Ren took Scott by the back of his hood and lifted him out of the obfuscating layer of snow.

“You just don’t stop talking do you,” Jimmy said sternly. He didn’t move an inch, and his finger was poised on the trigger of his father’s old gun.

Ren had stopped talking. He resorted to staring down his nose at the other man.

“Get out of my walls, Ren,” Jimmy demanded.

“Now hold on dude, we’re not finished here,” Ren prefaced.

“No, I think we are done here!” Jimmy raised his voice.

“You’re going put him down right now,” he ordered, “take your men, and leave my home,” Jimmy yelled.

“Or what?” Ren asked, although it was more of a last ditch effort than a promise of more to come.

“Or I aim for your head next time,” Jimmy deadpanned.

Ren chewed his bottom lip pensively, seeming to consider his options before rendering himself rightfully defeated. He nodded curtly, and tossed the battered Scott at Jimmy’s feet. He strode over to Skizzle and kicked him encouragingly in the side, gathering him up and then going to retrieve Martyn, whom he had Skizzle sling over his shoulder.

The Red Musketeers vacated the Hobbit’s walls, going through the door they broke down on the way in. Jimmy kept his rifle trained on them until he was sure they weren’t coming back. Then he turned back to Scott, shakily flipping the safety of the rifle back on.

“Scott,” Jimmy called out, “hey, can you hear me?” it was too familiar.

“I’m fine,” Scott assured; but his husband wasn’t having it. He took the other’s face in his hands gently and assessed the damage.

“I think you have a concussion,” Jimmy observed.

“I think I could have used your help a bit earlier,” Scott joked, but Jimmy didn’t smile, “I mean I knew you were a heavy sleeper but this is ridiculous”, he added.

Jimmy helped him up and he wobbled a bit before taking in the scene he’d made. A clear path of action stretched from the front door of Jimmy’s house to the Western Wall where the amphitheater was. Some of the snow was red with blood.

Jimmy took Scott’s arm and pulled him into a half embrace, “let’s go back inside. You’re freezing,” he whispered.

“Wait,” Scott said.

He started sifting through the snow, eventually pulling out the axe he’d stolen from Martyn. Ren had retrieved his and Skiz’s weapons before leaving. He held it up and flipped it over in his hands a few times gleefully. Then, he trudged over to Jimmy’s front door and found Ren’s discarded shades under some red stained snow. The right lens was cracked down the middle, hairline fractures branched off of it.

He held the sunglasses up for Jimmy to see with a proud grin, waving them around in the air.

“How’d you manage that?” Jimmy asked, dumbfounded.

“I went like BAP!” Scott articulated as he pretended to head butt Jimmy to demonstrate, “and they must have come right off! Look at that, a perfect trophy,” he bragged.

“You know, I didn’t question why he wasn’t wearing them because I didn’t think that even he was enough of a dick to wear sunglasses in the dead of night,” Jimmy said.

“Now, inside,” he pointed to the door.

[artisticflutter]

AU August - Day Two: Vampires

What do you mean I distracted myself, I did no such thing... also, I’m skipping Cyberpunk and Wild West to just do w/e I want. (I drew on Cyberpunk day, but those drawings would be better for my other tumblr if not for a ban) ANYWAY HERE’S DAY TWO!

Series: Genshin Impact Rating: T+ Genre: Suspense Pairing(s): Chongyun x Xingqiu Summary: All he had done was ask for a bite. Warning: Vampire/Modern AU, there is blood, there’s confusion, and there’s passing out.

“Please, just a bite…”

He’d asked in such an un-Xingqiu manner, and he’d been very Xingqiu just seconds before. And those seconds before, they had begun walking home in the relative quiet that came with night following another semi-successful day of studying. Chongyun would never admit it out loud, but he noticed Xingqiu had not been acting like himself since they’d met up. Somehow, he’d appeared paler and faint circles had made their mark beneath his eyes - and though he’d inquired, his concern was brushed away with the excuse of late night reading the previous day before.

Entirely plausible had it not been his growling stomach.

Chongyun had offered to purchase a snack from the Library’s café, but Xingqiu had insisted against the offer with a smile and a teasing prod that perhaps the offer was Chongyun’s attempt at procrastination - which immediately made him hurry them both on to their usual table. He’d also made a mental note not to offer again, but of course he hadn’t meant it.

If he’d at least gotten Xingqiu something to drink, perhaps he wouldn’t have almost collapsed on their walk. Fortunately for them both, Chongyun’s reflexes were considerably well trained, but damn, holding onto his amber-eyed companion (friend?), he was even lighter than he assumed - weaker than his appearance portrayed as he struggled to grab hold of Chongyun’s arms. Somehow, he managed a soft laugh and an apologetic smile. “O-Oops… looks like I fell for you.”

“Cut that out,” Chongyun replied, shaking his head, and trying to keep himself collected. That just made Xingqiu laugh again; until his face fell into a grimace and his fingers trembled as they dug into Chongyun’s arm.

“Sorry… I thought I had longer…”

“...?”

He’d spoken so softly that Chongyun wasn’t sure if he heard Xingqiu correctly. Not that it mattered; he had to get Xingqiu… er, he would take him home if he knew where the young man lived. And was this worth a trip to the University clinic? Or should he already contact the hospital?

A pale finger caught his eye and Chongyun blinked - Xingqiu was gesturing for him to come closer. He chose instead to lift the shockingly light man closer, ignoring how he seemed to latch onto his shoulders and the feeling of his - ? His skin, and Xingqiu wasn’t breathing, but he felt his head shift against his neck, and shivered at how cold he was. How was that possible? He was wearing long sleeves - and it was a rather humid night.

“Please, just a bite…”

So low had his voice been despite being so close, and suddenly, that weak grasp felt like talons digging into his shoulders, making Chongyun stagger back in shock, but not release Xingqiu. Maybe that was a mistake; or maybe that had been his decision because he could not just drop him. But the frosted feeling of lips against his neck, the frigid dampness of his tongue dragging against his skin, he felt numb and paralyzed on the spot that the sudden pricking on his neck was barely more than a pinch. Blood weld, but did not spill as Xingqiu’s mouth sealed against his throat and the fierce hold on his shoulders soon came to be his arms wrapping around his neck. His body pressed closer, his tongue flicking against his skin to catch what he assumed might be dregs attempting to escape, but Chongyun’s thought process ground to a halt in his shock.

His legs wavered as Xingqiu groaned and shifted, seeming to drink deeper. His back connected with a wall as his knees almost buckled, but he only felt jostled by the hit instead of the soreness that might come with it. Rapidly, his mind was becoming a haze and the world muffled - cotton or water, whichever metaphor was quickly breaking down as dots filled his vision.

And then… black.

[malibumiu]

“Running doesn’t matter. I’ll hunt you down if I have to.”

aka Naejunko angst (?) idk this came from yandere prompt list so yea (Warning: Violence, guns) 

enjoy!

“I have to keep running… I have to keep running… get up Makoto come on..” It's the mantra that he had to keep telling himself, he was close! Getting so close! To where? He wasn’t sure! But he knew he had to be close, somewhere! Anywhere! From that god forsaken base! He needed to find the others, surely they would be looking for him! That would mean they should be around the area surely with his luck the others would be able to find him or if his luck was being extra nice maybe he’d find them first! 

Though a pain throb quick made him hiss in pain, staggering slightly as he took shelter in a half decrepit hotel lobby. Furniture was both turned and unturned glass and debris everywhere, the light from the maroon sky making it look more eerie than it should be. He quickly ducked down behind the receptionist desk, trying to make himself as small as he could manage, he would have gotten under completely but that would be rather hard when you have two arrows in your back. His entire body felt sore and tired, his wounds from his “executions” not having properly healed yet, he was sure a few of them had tore themselves open again already, he just prayed that there wasn’t a blood trail.

“Calm down Makoto..calm down..” he closed his eyes trying to steady his heart beat and control the trembling throughout his body, “Calm down,” another breath, “She probably has forgotten about you by now. Yeah that's it..” another, “ S-She found a new toy to play with, she has gotten over you..just focus on get out alive-”

Static crackles from above him catching his attention, with minimal pain he shot out from under the desk and found a CB radio, perfect! He quickly clamored up the mic and began fiddling with the dial Maybe it was a call for help?! Or Kyoko, or Byakuya- 

“Makotoooo baby~ you're heaven sent you know so why are you SO hellbent on being such a bad boy to me~?”

Makoto dropped the mic slowly backing away from the radio..No...she- she couldn’t have! He already pulled the tracker arrow out from his thigh! How could she-?!

The radio let out static crackle, her voice felt closer; it was like he could still feel her on him, her breath, her perfume, her nails, just her. 

“Makaroco babybabybaby~! You know I like a bad boy I do! With their cigarette smoke, motorcycles, bad attitude and all, so cooooool right!? But they also reek of insecurities, blood and cowardice. But you aren’t them baby, no.. you're my sweet little darling my little macarena~. OH! You're just so sugary sweet you probably gave me diabetes! That being said..” His mind felt like it was on autopilot at this point, he didn’t even realize that he had got up and started running again, until he landed on the ground with a thud and looked around, finding glass around him, ah he must have jumped out of a window. At least escaped- 

“AS I WAS SAYING-“ With a screech of the sound system outside her voice came over again, “That being said Makoto, you have a weakness.. a big weakness baby and it's that you care entirely too much for people.” 

He began to run, he didn’t care, he ignored the pain in his back and throbbing pain all over his body, he didn’t care he just needed to run, he needed to stop hearing her.

“Your- no.. OUR friends after all the shit they put you through you still cared for them, in the last trial you got them out of despair, they didn’t deserve it. Earlier you told them to direct all their anger toward me! The mastermind and in the end you couldn’t bring yourself to even fully hate me, you wanted to help me. How could I say no you babe?” “Babe?” he spat, letting out a dark chuckle, he could feel himself slowing down his limp “Yeah sure.”

“You know Makoto there's a lot I’d do for you, you know? It's SO weird honestly I can hardly believe it myself, a lot of things bore me but not you. You somehow keep my mind entertained, you keep me guessing, predicting! Even when we were in school and dating! But one thing was obvious, you were quite the popular guy herbivore. Those bitches would flock all over you! Both the main and reserve course, they were like leeches, those whores...trying to suck all the kindness out of you, probably hoping you’d knock them up with a kid and tie you down, I- i couldn’t have that we were dating after all! I tried to tell to back the fuck off; the main course girls grew their brains and did until valentines time day that is.. anyway those reserve skanks didn’t listen… so let’s just say.. I thought them a lesson? Oh makoto you should have been there. It was delightfully gross! Blood everywhere! Some remainders of guts Oh-! and one bitch even pissed herself it was fucking hilarious Mako!!”

Makoto could only lean against the wall in horror as the fashionista let out howls of laughter, meanwhile he felt even more guilt swelled in his heart. First his classmates and now some girls he doesn’t even know or remember were dead because of him?! 

“That little incident cost me a good outfit and shoes but it was allllll worth it for you baby~. I couldn’t have you taken from me, your mine. MINE. I did soooo much for you Makoto! I marked you, loved you hell I even Killed for you! I was even such a loving girlfriend that I brought you to my base where I treated your injuries, gave you good meals, shelter and new friends! And you still leave me! How could you be so cruel Makoto Naegi?! HOW COULD YOU?!”

Said boy cringed at her cries, he couldn’t truly tell if they were actual tears or crocodile tears but even so it made him want to go and comfort her, hold her close and tell her everything was fine, no Junko- Murukro would probably still love you even after all you did-

“But no matter, I still forgive you. You’re just running because you want to be a cheeky little shit dontcha? You wanna play games huh? That’s ok babe, I like this game cat and mouse, prey vs predator, hide and seek? Tag even, games like these are rather fun especially when the mouse is a cute lil boy like you Makoto~ Oh~! I am ready to pounce ya! Rawr :3!”

It was at this point that Makoto felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he looked around, there was no one around except for those of the dead and from what remained of the taller buildings he could see no one so... why did he feel like he was suddenly being watched? Before he knew it he started running again.

“But you should have already known Babe, running away is pointless because in the end Makoto Naegi I’ll always find you.”

Junko smiled as she clicked off the microphone for a moment to line up her shot. She looked in the scope again to make sure that he was there and he was probably because of the limp in his run, that fall in the pit and the swords did a multitude on him. And though it hurt her poor maiden heart to see him like this, it definitely made it easier for her. Normally this would be Izuru’s job but this time however he was waiting a block away with the car to scoop him up before he bled out to death. She checked the barrel of the sniper rifle once more, the upgrades Izuru did the bullets should disable him for a while. She looked back into the scope, lining up the shot once more, laying her finger gently on the trigger while her other hand reached for the mic. She held it close, her eye watching him like a hawk as she watched his sad effort of a run.

“But please remember that I’m doing this because I love you Makoto.”

She pulled the trigger without hesitation and watched as he fell to the ground, wriggling around on the ground in pain as he cradled his knee in agony. Then the strangest thing happened: he stopped, and he...started to crawl?! What the hell?! Why wasn’t staying put like a good boy?! Nononono this wouldn’t do! She knew he was rather stubborn and (she said so herself) unpredictable but now was not the time for that!

She looked back into the scope to line up and take the shot again. Taking the second shot wasn’t hard, especially since he wasn’t as much of a moving target as the first time. She made to pop his other knee or maybe it was his thigh? She wasn’t too sure but she did know it didn’t hit a non vital area so he should be good and he looked to be down for the count finally.

“Kamukuraaaaaaa~” she sung into walkie talkie that was attach to her coat, “Be a dear and go the little rascal will ya~? Mama can’t have her big catch lying on the street once you get him, be sure to come back around and get me too Kk? Gooooood!”

Clicking off she sighed and began to pack up, she knew Makoto would be fine after all she did make sure not him in non-vitals areas but with these new injuries on top of his probably already reopened previous wounds. He would probably be bedridden for a bit, but that would be fine by her, it would only insure that he’s incapable of leaving-leaving her. He didn’t need his friends, his friends clearly had no trouble discarding him in the 5th trial, so why would they need him now? She needed him, not his hope or anything, just him. His optimism, kindness, comfort, warmth and love that's all she wanted. She would be damned if she let anyone take him from her.  Didn’t they know? Junko Enoshima always got what she wants no matter the cost. Even if it required bloodshed.

[snowraven007]

VHS: Sweetness in Horror

One-shot

Maybe more, who knows

Faith x Jess pairing, because they cute

"Jess !" I yelled when I saw her limping shape enter the room. I gasped for two reasons: the carelessness in the loudness of my voice, and the bleeding wound on my friend's shoulder.

"Help," She said before her knees buckled. I rushed to her side, eyeing the claw marks that tore her flesh. "How bad is it ?" She asked, panting.

"Nothing I can't handle. Try to slow your breathing," I responded, and whipped out the bandages from where I'd stashed them. "We don't have any disinfectant, so we'll have to make do with just bandages." I warned her, making an apologetic face.

She nodded, sweat beading on her forehead. "Just do it."

I gently removed her coat first, then helped her out of her t-shirt. She moaned in pain as the wet fabric pulled free of her wound. Slowly, I lifted her arm and placed her hand on my knee, so she wouldn't have to hold it up herself.

My heart was pounding as I started wrapping the bandages around the wound, accelerating every time she made a sound.

"There, all done." I said finally. I helped her up, but caught her just in time as she staggered. "Hey, you okay ?" I asked, peering at her pallid face.

"I'm just really tired, suddenly."

"How about we rest up for a little while, hm ?"

She sighed, the ghost of a smile on her dark lips. "That's sounds hella good, actually."

Wrapping her uninjured arm around my shoulders, we limped together into another room - hopefully safer, and away from the monster, at least temporarily. Carefully, I helped her sit against the wall opposite from the door, and sat down beside her.

I was shocked when Jess's head suddenly touched my shoulder. "Hey, did you faint ?" I asked, worried.

"No. Just...let me rest here for a minute." She muttered.

My heart was pounding against my ribcage. God, I hope she couldn't hear it. "I thought you hated me." The words flew out of my mouth so fast that I couldn't stop them.

She chuckled, to my surprise. "I always say I hate everyone, and it's mostly true...but that part was lie."

"How come ?" I asked softly, turning my face so that her blue hair was caressing my cheek.

"Because you aggravate me, with your faith in everyone and your constant positivity - it irks me." She explained, annoyance creeping back into her tired voice.

I pursed my lips, scowling. "But why ? I never did anything to you - I only ever tried to be your friend."

"I know, and I'm sorry." She choked out the word as if it was stuck in her throat. "It's just...you're so pure, Faith, and that's your greatest strength - your kind heart, but it's also your worst weakness."

I frowned, confused. "So...you said you hate me because of that ?"

She sighed. "No. It's something I both hate, love, and admire about you, but it also makes me angry because people take advantage of you - and you let them ! You're always giving second chances, even to scumbags who don't deserve it."

She paused for a beat. "But what I really hate is myself. Because you're everything I wish I could be - that my parents wish I could be...but I'm not. I never will be, and I have to live with that fact for the rest of my life. And I know it sucks, but I lash out at you because of that, sometimes."

"Oh, Jess..." I whispered, and hugged her. "You're wrong, you know. You're a good person. You care about others too - I've seen it, even if you try to hide that part of yourself."

Tentatively, Jess's uninjured arm touched my back. God, I hope she couldn't hear how loud my heart was beating..."Doesn't that just make me weak, though ? I do it because I'm scared of getting hurt, so I hide behind a mask of hate, when really I..."

She sounded like she was about to cry, so I just held on tighter. "It's okay to be scared. But I would never, ever hurt you, because I..." I bit my lip.

"Because ?"

"I'm not as innocent or pure as you think, you know." I whispered, voice quivering. "There's something about me that my parents would hate of they ever found out..."

She pulled back from my arms to look at my face. "What do you mean ?"

"I...I'm scared that...you would really hate me, this time, if I told you." My eyes watered.

She scoffed, sat up straighter. "Faith, haven't you heard a word I just said ? I admire you ! I wish I was like you, because you're the most amazing, wonderful girl that I know, and-"

"I like girls !" I squealed, squeezing my eyes shut. The moment of silence was excruciating, regardless of how short it actually was.

"...what ?"

"I like girls...as in, romantically. I like boys too, but...I like you the most." This is it. This is the moment where she'll hate me forever, and never look at me the same way again, I thought.

"Faith. Look at me," She breathed. I opened one eye, then both, and gasped as I saw tears rolling down Jess's cheeks.

"Jess ! No, I-I didn't mean to-"

"Fuck !" She exclaimed, rubbing at her eyes furiously, smearing her black eyeshadow everywhere. "Fuck, this isn't how it's supposed to go..."

I blinked at her, shocked. "What do you mean ?"

She exhaled, then laughed. "I...I like you too, Faith ! I have for a while, but I thought you'd hate me too - I didn't know you even liked girls, I never would have imagined !"

My eyes were so wide they threatened to pop out of their sockets. "Is this a dream ?" I asked, trembling at the surrealism of this moment.

She shook her head, her wild hair swinging with the movement. "Probably a nightmare, given the werewolf trying to kill us all." She grinned wide, making me laugh at the irony of our situation.

"Then we better go help the others, huh. Do you feel okay enough to move ?"

"I do...as long as you stay by my side." Fear flashed in her gray eyes, as well as hope.

I smiled, taking her hand in mine. "I will. I promise."

Maybe to be Continued...

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x male character - Part Three (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is going to be a four-parter, folks! And here's 3866 words of Part Three for you. Angst ahoy, but you know me, ok, so trust me. Here we meet Alec's little brother, and you'll find out why Sebastien was so jumpy and weird about the Twayblade name.

Part One, Part Two

Alec’s ‘one night stand’ with Sebastien turned into a whole month of of ‘one-night-stands’, and culminated in Sebastien asking him to dinner the following weekend - a pattern which repeated itself every weekend after that.

Sure, the sex was probably the most incredible sex that Alec had ever experienced in his entire life, but what he came to enjoy even more was the time they spent over meals and cups of tea in the intervening time, talking about everything from history to politics to video games and books and everything else besides. Sebastien talked about literature a lot, and Alec sketched him and illustrated his conversations while he spoke.

“You could really make something of yourself with talent like that,” Sebastien had murmured once as Alec had doodled a quick rendition of the Victory of Samothrace on the back of a coffee shop receipt one afternoon in the park.

“Meh,” he shrugged without looking up. “I’d like to, but I’ve got a steady job now, you know? I’m not going to throw it all away just because some gallery might take my work and I might make something of a name for myself, you know?”

Sebastien sighed. “Talent is such an overused word, and great art is rarely based on raw talent alone, but with your dedication over the years, you’ve really honed what natural abilities you have into something exceptional, Alec. I think you should make a go of it at least.”

Alec had flushed, and Sebastien had been distracted by the rising colour his cheeks long enough to abandon that train of thought in favour of kissing him silly on a park bench, and Alec hadn’t much minded.

At an Iranian restaurant near Alec’s place one Friday, four weeks after Halloween, Sebastien leaned on his elbow and popped a fragrant and decadent zoolbia into his mouth, and Alec watched, oddly fixated by the way his fingers held the little fried treat. His eyes, dark and warm and inviting, blinked slowly and he offered Alec a slow-dawning smile that stole his breath.

“We should go to the museum again,” Alec he blurted, thinking back three days when they’d spent their lunchtime meandering around the Italian Renaissance gallery together.

“Mmm?” he asked, licking his fingers in a way that made Alec’s jeans tighten and his throat close.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I mean, I know you’re not sick of me waxing endlessly about quattrocento art just yet…” he said, sipping his delicious cup of tea and trying not to choke on it as Sebastien’s ankle skimmed up his leg beneath the table.

“No,” Sebastien admitted. “You’re right. I’m not.”

With the bill paid by Sebastien this time, after Alec had bought them lunch the previous day, the two of them left the cosy warmth of the restaurant and stepped out into a bitter November night. “Oh fuck it’s cold,” Alec swore immediately, drawing up the collar of his coat.

“You want to head home?” Sebastien asked, a hand on the small of his back.

Unconsciously, Alec leaned into it and smiled up at him. They’d not yet been to Alec’s apartment, and he found himself more and more reluctant to let Sebastien in now that he’d seen the stunning penthouse that he called home. “If you’re sure? I think your wardrobe has more square footage than my entire place though…”

“Alec,” he purred, taking Alec’s hand in his and squeezing his fingers. “I —”

“—You’re freezing,” he commented, interrupting whatever Sebastien had been about to say.

“I don't tend to run hot,” he conceded, “But neither do I feel the cold much. I’d like to see your home, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He leaned in close and kissed the junction of Alec’s jaw and neck for a moment, his lips lingering, tongue just lapping at his skin and sending shivers down Alec’s whole body, shorting out his brain for a heartbeat or six. Sebastien raked his teeth over Alec’s pounding pulse point and he went still, frozen in a paroxysm of pleasure and, oddly, a strange thrill of fear he couldn’t quite place. Instead of pulling away when he recovered himself, however, he tilted his head further to one side, offering himself to Sebastien’s mouth, and the other man moaned decadently, deepening his attentions.

Sebastien’s hands found Alec’s belt and he tugged him sharply closer so that their hips met. Alec tried not to grind himself against Sebastien — they were still on a public street for goodness’ sake — but desire was washing through him in pulsing waves and it was becoming harder and harder to think rationally. That wasn’t the only thing that was becoming hard either, and he let out a harsh grunt before forcing himself to step back with a sheepish grin.

When he looked up at Sebastien, he found that the slightly taller man had frozen and was breathing hard, eyes closed, lips pursed together as though restraining himself from something.

“You ok?”

“Fine,” Sebastien hissed, still not opening his eyes.

Alec frowned. Sebastien looked like he was in pain of all things. “You sure? You look —”

“I’m fine!” he snapped through a clenched jaw. “Let’s go. You’re right. It is cold.”

The short walk to Alec’s apartment passed in tense silence, with Sebastien keeping his eyes locked downwards on the pavement, though he did deign to hold Alec’s hand. He couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he’d pushed things too far in public, given how proper Sebastien tended to be, but then again, Sebastien was the one who had deepened the gesture by practically mauling at his neck for three minutes straight back then.

Alec’s apartment building wasn’t fancy at all, and it certainly didn’t have a doorman, and once they’d stumbled in through the hallway with the busted light fitting in the ceiling, Alec smashed the elevator call button only to find it dull and non-responsive. “Damn,” he cursed. “Out of order again. Stairs?”

“If needs be,” Sebastien said with a gracious smile.

“This would never happen over at Buckingham Palace,” he quipped back, and Sebastien cracked a smile at Alec’s silly nickname for his apartment block.

“Exercise will shake all that dinner down,” he conceded.

Alec twitched his eyebrows in agreement and held the door open to the stairwell for him. As he passed by in the confined space, Sebastien stopped and leaned in, taking Alec’s jaw in his cool hands and kissing him gently, reverently, on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I was rude back then.”

Alec shrugged, feeling awkward at the sheer, heartfelt tenderness in the gesture.

“I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

“I like it when you’re rougher with me,” he smirked. “You should know that after a month of fucking me senseless.”

As if Alec’s words had hit him like a sledgehammer to the nuts, Sebastien rolled his eyes and grimaced, but he did laugh. “You do seem to like a firm hand, granted,” he said. “Let’s get upstairs shall we? Before I take you right here, and I’m not sure how sanitary this situation is…”

Alec needed no more encouragement, and he didn’t even get to give Sebastien the fleeting, one-minute tour of his tiny flat before the man was on him, kissing him blind and backing him into a wall hard enough to knock the wind from him. Sebastien came alive in moments like that, when he could kiss him and lavish attention on Alec, and the latter was not about to stop him.

It wasn’t long before Sebastien’s wandering lips found Alec’s neck again, and as Alec gasped, fists balled into Sebastien’s shirt collar, he felt the sharp prick of teeth quickly followed by the generous suck of a love bite in the making. His knees went weak and he nearly staggered as a huge rush of endorphins swam through his mind, leaving him limp and wobbly all over. Well, almost everywhere.

“I want you,” he gasped, and Sebastien lost no time in locating the tiny bedroom and tossing him onto the bed, stripping them both with startlingly attractive efficiency. Alec barely managed to yank a bottle of lube and a box of condoms from his top drawer before Sebastien was spreading his legs and laving his tongue up over the curve of his balls.

“Oh fuck me,” Alec exclaimed as Sebastien’s slick finger slid into him and he hissed at the intrusion. A moment later, he was lying with his head flung back into the pillows while Sebastien slid a second inside him and began to do just that with his fingers until Alec was finally ready — and more than desperate — for Sebastien’s cock.

Sebastien had a beautiful body, all lean, corded muscle and slender lines, and as he got more and more aroused, his deep olive skin seemed to glow almost supernaturally. He was perfection incarnate. Bernini couldn’t have carved him, even if he’d been given a lifetime to try. Alec was no Bernini but he’d still love to sculpt him.

Sebastien chuckled sweetly and crooked his finger, sending a jolt of searing pleasure through Alec so hard his vision whited out for a moment and his back arched. “I’m flattered,” Sebastien murmured, placing open-mouthed, messy kisses down Alec’s leg as he spontaneously bent that knee up.

“Shit, I said that out loud…” he laughed, still vague and giddy with the sensations sparking under his skin.

“Mmm,” he smiled, lowering his face to Alec’s inner thigh and kissing fervently all up his leg to the crease of his thigh and hips before smoothing his leg back down onto the bed. His breath fanned out across Alec’s sensitive skin and he quivered and bucked, causing Sebastien’s curled finger to brush his prostate again and he yelled.

“Please…”

Moments later, Sebastien entered him at last and stilled, allowing him to adjust to the new intrusion.

When he fucked him like this, Sebastien seemed to take on a new energy, becoming something almost more primal, and Alec lived for it. The expression on his face as he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the heat of Alec’s body closing around him, taking him, drawing him in, was something he would never get used to, no matter how many times it happened. He was certain of it.

“You’re so tight,” Sebastien grunted, easily shifting Alec’s hips up a degree or two and adjusting his own angle so that he could thrust into his prostrate with every stroke.

Alec’s words failed him as immense pleasure ripped through him, building and building. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he barely managed to grunt as Sebastien somehow picked up the pace and began to pound into him with renewed vigour. The man seemed utterly devoted to Alec’s pleasure, as if it was the only thing driving him.

With an utterly inhuman snarl, Sebastien opened his mouth and whispered, “Come for me.”

The sheer weight of command in his voice tore through Alec and he came instantly, untouched, painting his torso with ropes of his release and wrenching Sebastien’s own orgasm from him by sheer force a second after.

Sebastien curled forwards with a hiss, hips spasming as he released, and his lips found Alec’s neck again, and then his collarbone. In the daze of his own peak, Alec thought he saw a flash of red in Sebastien’s eyes again, but he was out of sight too quickly for him to believe what he’d seen. Instead, he found Sebastien kissing his hammering pulse while he finished. Finally going still, Sebastien slumped atop him, breathing hard, his white-blond hair spilling everywhere and tickling Alec’s stubble. He was too tired to care though.

When he woke, hours later, he realised groggily that it must be the middle of the night. Sebastien was curled up beside him, obviously having found the tiny bathroom to clean up, and he was now spread out beside him on his small, lumpy mattress as if this were a palace and he a prince, not some tiny, shitty apartment in the rough bit of town.

Something about the way Sebastien slept still freaked Alec the fuck out. He didn’t seem to be breathing, and when he had laid his palm on Sebastien’s chest on their first night together, the man had gasped and jolted awake like the living dead, sucking in air like he’d been underwater for hours. This time, he refrained from touching him, and instead stared at his inhuman beauty. There wasn’t a mark or scar or freckle on him, and his darkly tanned body spread out over the white sheets like a bronze sculpture arranged in a gallery for the adoration of thousands. And yet he chose Alec to be his only supplicant. Something lurched in his chest and he smiled bashfully, blushing, although there was no one to witness it.

Awake, Sebastien looked maybe thirty, thirty five years old, but asleep, he looked far younger; closer to eighteen or nineteen perhaps, with an innocence around his white-lashed eyes and the natural downward curl of his beautiful lips.

Unable to resist touching him completely, Alec kissed him and rolled over, drawing the duvet up around his ears and sinking back into a deep, dreamless sleep. His whole body felt heavy and satiated in a way he’d never experienced before with anyone. Something clenched in his heart; this felt right somehow.

But nothing is fated to last forever, is it?

Alec stirred groggily, unwillingly, the next morning, becoming aware of a rapid-fire knocking on the apartment door. Grunting, he kicked back the covers and fished for a pair of boxers and a shirt from the floor beside the bed. Sebastien slept on, apparently not having moved at all since the previous evening. Did he have sleep apnoea or something? It was something he’d have to bring up after he’d sorted whatever this was. It wasn’t natural for a man to sleep like that.

Like the dead.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled, stumbling across the apartment and peering though the peephole in the door. Twitching back in surprise, he opened it. “Theo?”

His little brother’s bright, sunny grin beamed back at him. “Hey bro,” he chuckled jovially, stepping in as if he owned the place and shooting him a cheeky look back over his shoulder. “Brunch?”

“Brunch?” Alec frowned. “Since when do you do ‘brunch’? And since when is it brunchtime anyway?” He glanced at the clock in the kitchen and his eyebrows rose. It was well past eleven o’clock.

“Late night, I see,” Theo snickered, eyeing Sebastien’s shirt which was still on the floor outside the bedroom door, currently ajar from Alec’s hasty exit.

“Shut up.”

Theo’s grin doubled and his blue eyes glittered. Like Alec, he had the unusual combination of dark hair and blue eyes, and like Alec he could be described as ‘roguish’ at times. Now though, it bordered on downright Puckish. Looking not his actual twenty-one years but somewhere closer to sixteen, Theo shook his head.

“Brother mine, when will you —” he snorted but then stopped and his expression fell, shattering from playful to horrified in a heartbeat before he rapidly attempted to cover it by turning towards the bedroom. “Is he still here?” he whispered.

“Yeah, so keep the jokes to a minimum, would you?” Alec snarled. “What did you want anyway?”

But Theo had changed completely. Gone was the ebullient Labrador puppy and instead a tense, alert, wary young man stood before him.

“What the fuck’s wrong?” Alec hissed, heartbeat ticking faster like an over-wound clock.

And Theo spun and then froze as the door to the bedroom opened and Sebastien appeared on the threshold.

Theo’s lip curled into an ugly snarl and Sebastien regraded him steadily, apparently unfazed by the unexpected hostility.

“The younger Twayblade, I assume,” he said with such ice in his usually warm tone that it shook Alec into stunned silence. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“You’re shitting me,” Theo whispered, horror thickening his tone.

Alec blinked and looked from Sebastien to his little brother and back again. Never in all his years of dating men had he felt so uneasy around a family member. “What’s going on…?” he finally croaked.

“That’s what — who — you’re sleeping with?” Theo practically spat out.

Cold, defensive vitriol bubbled up inside him and he might actually have lunged for his brother had Sebastien not crossed the room in three rapid strides and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “I take my leave,” he said quickly.

“Not so fast, fang-face,” Theo sneered and Sebastien froze. “Get away from my brother.”

“Or what?” Sebastien said in the quietest and steadiest of voices.

“What the fuck is going on!” Alec blurted into the tense silence that followed Sebastien’s taunt.

The other two blinked, and Sebastien sighed. He met Alec’s eye as he asked, “You really didn’t know at all, did you?”

“Know what?” Alec snapped, rage rolling through him. “Do you two know each other or something? What am I missing here?”

“I think this is a family matter that you need to work out between you,” Sebastien said, voice still tinged with frost. “Alec, you know where to reach me if you decide to continue what we’ve shared this past month.” And with that, he turned and walked from the apartment.

“Wait, stop!” Alec yelled after him, but he was gone down the stairwell and Theo was at his side, tugging him back into the apartment. “Fucking explain yourself!” he snapped, rounding on his brother.

“You’d… better sit down.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

Theo stared him down, meeting blazing sapphire stare with blazing sapphire stare. “Sit. Down.”

The tone of his voice shocked Alec into doing exactly that, and he sank numbly down onto the saggy old couch in the living room without a word.

What followed next was like something from a movie.

“The Twayblades are an ancient family of monster hunters,” Theo said gently. “Father’s not in the military. Well, he is, but it’s not a normal unit or anything. That’s just a cover.”

“And mother?” he asked mechanically, the information-dump that Theo had just heaped upon him not sinking in, but floating like scum on the surface of his churning mind.

“She’s one too. And Ellie.”

“Ellie hunts… monsters?” he asked. “Like… what… the Boogeyman? Bigfoot?” Incredulity made his tone flippant, but something in the calm sincerity of his brother’s eyes told him it was true, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Dracula…?” Theo added darkly.

“Dracula.” And then the penny dropped. “Wait. ‘Fang-face’. You’re saying you think my boyfriend is a vampire?”

Theo levelled him with a look from where he was leaning against the windowsill, arms folded over his chest in a manner eerily reminiscent of his big brother.

Now as Alec regarded him, he saw the harsh young man that this little kid had become. The puppy fat had melted into a steel jaw and a hard gaze, and his body seemed coiled for action at any moment. He had the body of a soldier, Alec realised with plunging horror. He knew Theo worked out — he was apparently a personal trainer and nutritional coach for celebrities in London, but even that seemed to have been a lie after what he’d just learned. Apparently the Twayblades actually hunted monsters — he and their parents and their older sister Ellie. Alec and Angie had been left out because they were apparently not ‘hunter material’ whatever that meant. Maybe it meant he was a monster fucker instead. He almost laughed.

“Theo, come on… I can’t believe any of this,” Alec said, leaning back into the sofa and pressing the heels of his palms to his aching eyeballs. All he’d wanted to do this morning was to wake up and maybe have Sebastien fuck him into the mattress a few times before breakfast until he was wrung out and softly buzzing like they had every weekend for the last month.

Now he was having some bizarre fairytale forced at him and he was supposed to believe it like it was some kind of sick joke. But he did believe it, and that was what scared him most of all. It wasn’t a joke. Theo showed him videos his father and he had captured on some of their ‘hunts’, exterminating a poltergeist here and eradicating a revenant there, and in the end Theo phoned their father on speaker, opening without preamble, “Dad, Alec’s dating a vampire.”

“Do you have proof?” was their father’s instant, chilling response. No ‘I'm sorry, what did you say, son?’ or ‘What’s all this nonsense?’. No. He went straight to the heart of it. With a stake.

“Just walked past the sucker leaving the flat.”

“Ancient?”

“No, thank goodness. Maybe just a century at most?”

“Can you eliminate him without alerting Alec?” their father asked, at which point Alec’s heart cracked.

He leapt to his feet and blurted, “Fucking what?”

After a heartbeat of silence, their father sighed. “Unfortunate. I had hoped to keep you and Angela out of this.”

“You’re telling me it’s all real?”  he asked, goggling at Theo who held the phone out on speaker between them like it was a live grenade. “You’re all insane!”

“Tell me something, son,” his father said flatly. “Have his eyes ever flared red during a moment of passion? Does he seem to fixate on your neck? Do you find yourself willing to do as he wishes without question?”

Theo interjected quickly, “He’s not compelled. His eyes are clear.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” their father scoffed. “Theo, you know what you have to do. Kill it.”

“‘It’?” Alec shot, eyes bulging, and Theo did have the grace to cringe. “Kill it? You’re going to kill him? He’s a lecturer at the university, Theo. You can’t just fucking kill him?!”

“He might be under the guild rules…” Theo said. “He might be a blood bank user, not a live-feeder… I’ll look into it first.”

Alec’s knees turned to water but he kept himself upright through sheer force of will.

“Fine. But don’t hesitate. And don’t make concessions just because Alec might be compromised.”

Theo nodded and hung up without farewell. “Look, Alec,” he grimaced. “I’m… I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t come here to —”

“— to kill my boyfriend?” he growled, taking a step towards his little brother. To his credit, Theo did actually take half a step back in the face of Alec’s confused, hurt, betrayed ire, holding his hand palm-up.

“No. I came here to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but —”

“—Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out!” he roared, jabbing his index finger at the door and pulling out his phone.

Theo surprised him by nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him with a click and leaving Alec standing in the centre of the living room, chest heaving, phone in hand, ears ringing.

As his brother’s footsteps disappeared down the stairwell, he unlocked his phone and dialled Sebastien’s number.

Three rings in, Sebastien answered.

“It it true?” Alec asked without preamble.

After a long inhale, Sebastien answered. “…Yes.”

__

Sorry for the cliffie!! More soon, but it’ll hit Patreon first, then Tumblr. Don’t let me forget, either!

Part Four

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me  know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[eivorsjawline]

WARNING: tw food descriptions and the consumption of food and alcohol, smut...

You and Eivor join one another for a feast. Eivor begins to make moves on you and you begin to pick them up. However, the moment is short when Randvi distrupts the both of you. Eivor returns to meet you in the bedroom feeling defeated, the night turns hot and steamy.

See below: Stonehenge itself, as depicted in Valhalla.

Chapter 3: SOS

Readers POV

The sun began to set and I heard a loud ringing noise in the distance.

“Sounds like it's time for a feast. Shall we join them?” Eivor said holding an arm out for me to grab onto.

I could feel Eivor’s bicep bulge through the layers of clothes she had on. She knew exactly what she was doing. Interest sparked my mind and I began to wonder what lies underneath all the armor and fur.

Eivor led me back to the longhouse where settlers from all parts of the world grouped together to indulge in good food and drink. Music played while laughter and chatter drowned out the tune. Fresh berries and grapes lined the wooden benches and barrels of mead sat not too far from them. The aroma of a stew cooking filled my nostrils.

I let go of Eivor’s arm and she sat down next to me with a mug full of ale. Watching Eivor’s plump lips press against the mug our eyes latched onto one another. Quickly looking away I began to dig into the food in front of me. It had been so long since I last ate anything.

There was a different taste to everything, a fresher one. Untouched by any chemicals that are pumped into the air and soil like the time I truly come from.

“Try this…” Eivor grabbed an exotic berry, getting a firm grip on the sides of my jaw. Opening up my mouth, she placed the berry on the tip of my tongue as the juice ran down from my bottom lip down her thumb.

After chewing and savoring the sweet taste of both the berry and Eivor’s flesh finally, I swallowed. Eivor only gave me a presumptuous smirk, unphased and unapologetic for invading my personal space. Fortunately, I didn't mind one bit.

Being sexy is effortless to her.

She spoke to me with no words. Innate animal instinct and a magnetic attraction began to form between the two of us. Just as I was trying to hold back and deny my deep craving for her, she sucked off the juice that I spilled on her thumb from my mouth. A not so subtle tease coming from her.

Eivors POV

Our flirtatious charades were cut short by an intoxicated Randvi slamming her mug on the bench in front of me.

“Eivor, I need to speak with you… That is if you can find the time.” Randvi said, her eyes glancing over to [y/n].

Gods, not right now...

[y/n] pulled away, distancing herself from me and Randvi with a suspicious look on her face. I excused myself, and Randvi followed just behind me. Finally, we were cutting the corners to the alliance room.

The air grew thicker but the chatter of the longhouse quieted.

“Really, Eivor? You don't even know her and she’s replacing me… I sacrificed everything for you, I gave my everything to you! Your belt buckle couldn’t have waited just a little longer?” Randvi exasperated.

Leaning against the wall, I couldn't think of anything to say. The wound was still fairly fresh but she was wrong.

My body knows her and calls out for her like no one ever before. I couldn't explain the prophecies Valka told me of, it would just hurt Randvi more to know that she's not the one and never was.

“No one is replacing you, Randvi! We haven't even done anything together. We both know our relationship ran its course. How dare you pull me out here like that?” I said with a stern voice, my hands clenched.

“The way you look at her… You never looked at me like that.” Randvi said, her voice weakening.

The awkward silence grew and I didnt know what to say. Knowing she was right, I still tried to defend myself.

“Randvi, I did love you… I-“

Before I could say anything else, Randvi pulled the pledge knife out of the map and chucked it at the wall, barely missing me.

“With that knife we created this. I helped build you, and I will never let you forget that.” Randvi uttered, standing tall before storming off.

Though she was clearly on the verge of tears, I know she would never let me see her weak.

I just hurt everyone around me. Sigurd, my people… Randvi.

Readers POV

After everyone left the longhouse, I found myself alone in Eivor’s bedroom. Feeling conflicted, I longed for nothing more than the silence and the sound of a flickering candle next to my bed side.

What am I doing? I knew this was a bad idea, i should have never involved myself this deeply with the people here.

Eivor…

Randvi, why did she look at me like that? I felt so disgusted with myself afterwards. Letting my loneliness consume me, my anxiety began to tell me I didn't belong here and that I was merely trespassing.

I sat up in bed to see an exhausted Eivor standing by the doorway. She looked disheveled, like she had seen a ghost. I knew the tired expression on her face was not from a long day but the unwanted conversation with Randvi. She sat down on the bed with me and began to take off her cloak, throwing her boots on the ground.

“Eivor… What happened?” I nudged at her shoulder.

Eivor turned and looked at me, her bright blue eyes piercing through my soul as if she was telling me how exhausted she was. Tired of people, tired of explaining herself, and tired of everything that came with being a Jarl. She collapsed onto my chest and I held her there for a moment, stroking her hair and comforting her.

Eivor wrapped her arms around my waist tightly, playing with the strings on my dress.

“Being here with you feels like home to me. Come here, closer.” Eivor spoke to me with soft words.

My stomach sank, and my heart began to beat rapidly.

Eivor grabbed my chin and pulled it closer to hers, giving me a soft tender kiss, the taste of alcohol lingering on her lips. Her rough hand grabbed the back of my neck for support, pulling me in for more. With her other hand, her scarred fingers began to trickle down my arms and back up to the side of my ribs, gripping me tight with frustration.

I let out a subdued moan, unable to contain myself. She began to make her way down my neck with kisses and licks and then back up to suck on my earlobes.

“Eivor…” I said with another moan.

I felt her breath on my baby hairs, and my skin began to form goosebumps. Losing all control I ran my fingers down her back as she continued to kiss me wherever on my body she pleased. Pulling the collar of my dress down she began to place kisses on my chest. I could feel my underwear begin to soil and the ability to control the moans escaping my mouth weakened.

So many questions unanswered, what the hell am I doing?

My mind said one thing but my body said another.

“Eivor... I want you.” I whispered in her ear.

Without hesitation Eivor began to pull off the grey tunic she was in, disclosing her pale scarred flesh. My eyes stayed put on her chest and how the fleshy nubs on her bosom hardened.

“Let me see you, elsker.” Eivor said with a tug at my dress.

I stood up and began to untie the strings of my dress in front of Eivor, pulling the first layer off and throwing it to the ground. Eivor watched with careful eyes, sitting on the bed with spread legs and an exposed chest as I stood there in my last layer.

“Take it off for me, I want to watch.” Eivor instructed me, eyes locked onto me.

Undoing the last string on my tunic, I pulled the cloth over my head, holding the fabric up to my chest for a second before dropping it to the ground. My bare breasts were now on display for Eivor to see.

Finally, down to the last item of clothing on my body. I slowly started to pull down the fine silk underwear I was wearing until they dropped to the ground.

“Enough teasing, love. I want you all to myself. Right now.” Eivor said, almost breathless.

Eivor was unable to compose herself anymore, her breathing began to stagger. She stood up next to me, looking down into my eyes and started impatiently unbuckling her trousers. Leaning in for more wet kisses, she started to suck on my neck leaving a wet bruised spot. Moving downwards onto my chest sucking on my hard nipples, her hands with a firm grip on my ass.

I grabbed hold of Eivor’s blonde hair and let her lose herself in my body. On her knees now she started to massage my thighs, leaving a trail of kisses on my stomach. Eivor cupped my womanhood with her other hand making me tense up, removing it to reveal a sticky wet mess I made on her.

“Already soaked and I’ve barely started with you.” Eivor murmured, standing back up to lift me with ease.

My legs wrapped around her naked waist, still not hesitating to give me long deep kisses. Laying me down on the bed softly, her scarred hands grabbed a hold of both of my breasts and massaged my nipples, placing both in her mouth and sucking.

Eivor placed her knee in between my thighs, teasing me softly. I latched onto her and began grinding against her skin up and down, leaving a soaked spot on her leg. Her breasts swayed in front of me and I took a nub in my mouth and sucked, cupping it then releasing it.

I could tell by the expressions on Eivor’s face how bad she wanted me, the way I threw myself at her turning her on to the point of no return. As I left kisses and hickeys on her breasts, her breaths grew short and heavy. Still grinding my cunt on Eivors leg and prodding at her nipples, I could hear her mumble my name.

“Eivor… I want you so bad.” I let out a moan.

The sexual frustration of watching her fuck me with her eyes since I got here was soon to be released.

I opened my legs wide for her and she started to kiss my inner thighs, her hand teasing around my wet cunt. Getting a good grip onto my hips she began to place her hot mouth over my clit. Her experienced tongue made me arch my back and rock back and forth in an attempt to fuck her face.

“Fuck, [y/n] you taste so good.” She said, the pretty view of her head shooting up between my legs.

Eivor’s tongue kept a steady pace and slowly picked up as I held a fist full of her hair. Unable to control my moans and my eyes sealing shut, I held my other hand over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound.

I felt Eivor start to fuck me with her tongue, burying it in me as deep as possible, her moaning noises making my cunt vibrate.

While Eivor ate me like it was her last meal, her fingers explored my dripping wet spot, massaging my lips and teasing my hole, making me squirm beneath her.

“Oh, please Eivor I need to feel you inside of me!” I said with a fretful tone.

Eivor pulled her head up from in between my thighs, placing sloppy kisses all over my body until ultimately letting me taste myself on her tongue. The blonde grabbed the side of my neck looking profoundly into my eyes. My mouth reached for her thumb to suck on and a hungry expression fell upon her face, one that I had never seen before. She stroked the molars in the back of my mouth before sticking her long fingers down my throat almost making me gag.

“Gods, you’re so fucking filthy. You belong to me now...” Eivor whispered in my ear, her fingers still playing with me.

“All of me is yours… Eivor. Im yours…” I replied, trying to catch my breath.

Eivor slowly stuck a long slender finger inside of me, inserting from the very tip of her finger pad down to her knuckle. She watched me closely as I threw my head back in awe of how good the length of her felt. She pulled in and out of me until she stopped, her finger beginning to curl.

Keeping a steady pace inside me, I grabbed onto one of her soft breasts and started playing with the hard lump. Eivor let out a tender moan, her finger digging deeper into me.

Moving on to two fingers now, she began pumping me hard and fast. The immoral sounds of my wet pussy and her knuckles clashing filled the room. Removing my hand from her breast, I reached both hands out and gripped onto the back of her neck bracing for impact.

Looking down between our bodies and seeing her long fingers pump into me with vigor and force, I started to make a creamy mess all over her. I felt released and satisfied with how Eivor filled me. Slowing her pace down, she pulled out and placed her fingers on the tip of my tongue.

“Be a good girl and clean yourself off me, love.” The blonde murmured.

I stuck her soiled fingers in my mouth and my tongue made circles around the collision of our dna.

“It's your turn, my wolf.” I said sliding underneath Eivor’s body.

She spread her legs for me and grabbed onto the wooden bedpost. I took in the view of Eivor’s dripping cunt and tall lean body standing over me. Prepping my seat for her with my mouth hanging open, she didn’t hesitate to sit down.

Placing my mouth over her labia, I began to lick her up and down, not yet touching her clit. I savored the taste and she arched her back releasing a deep moan. My hands massaged her thighs and then at last I placed all my attention onto her throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck, just like that!” Eivor demanded, impatience in her voice for me to get her off.

The blonde began to buck and ride my face, her hands releasing the bedpost and now taking hold of my hair. Her firm grip and the heaviness of her body left me more determined to make her finish in my mouth.

I hummed and moaned into Eivor’s warm cunt, making her squirm and buck harder on my face. Listening as Eivors moans became heavier and she tried to catch her breath, the taste of her bittersweet pride coated my tongue and I swallowed every bit.

Eivor stopped so she could catch her breath before pulling off of me and laying down flat on the bed. We made eye contact and she just smiled at me before we chuckled at one another.

Though it was our first time making love, it felt like we had known each other's bodies for the entirety of our lives.

“You handle me so well. Come here, my little drengr.” Eivor said, before giving me one last passionate kiss.

Eivors POV

Damn, who knew her little body could take me so well?

Laying flat on the bed, I watched as my lover stood up and attempted to fix her hair. Eyes fixating on every curve of her body, her skin still dripping with sweat from the intense love we just made.

I was already missing her warm embrace and the feeling of her silky skin against mine, the faint sweet fragrance that radiated off her body.

Finding her way back to my bed, I lifted a thin cover up for her to join me once again. The cute smile she gave me made me melt inside. Facing the wall she laid down with me and I placed my arms around her, hugging her from behind. The feeling of her ass rubbing against my naked body, as if tempting me for another round.

I know what position I'm putting her in next time…

A sleepy drengr interrupted my dirty thoughts,

“Eivor, did you really mean it… Am i yours? Are you mine?”

With every ache in my body I meant it.

I propped my head up on my hand,

“If you allow it, I would take great pride in having you by my side.” I replied back, stroking her hair from behind.

I felt the little drengr adjust herself and turn her head towards me.

“Eivor, I would love that, but…”

My heart skipped a beat.

“I feel like there's more I need to learn about you.”

Though I was disappointed, I brushed it off giving her an understanding nod.

“You’re right, let's talk tomorrow i will explain everything. I promise... For now just sleep with me, here in my arms.” I said letting out a big sigh.

I'm gonna tell her everything tomorrow, if she is the prophecy she will understand. Right?

She turned around snuggling up to me and I watched as her eyes slowly closed.

I’ll cherish this moment forever...

[doobler]

Imprisoned

Harper pounded his head against the wall.

Whack.

Whack.

Whack.

"Shut up that racket, human!" A Brute barked down the hall.

Harper didn't stop. Pissing off his captors was the only reprieve he got in this hellhole.

Whack.

Whack.

Whack.

The Brute came rumbling down to Harper's cell. He made a show of shoving aside the meek Elite guard as he slammed a fist against the cell's frame.

"Silence, human filth," The Brute spat, his eyes narrowed in rage. "Or I shall rip out your entrails through your insufferable mouth."

"Sounds like a great Sunday night," Harper snarked back. "Gonna take me out for dinner, too? Make sure to fuck me good before you leave?"

The Brute was quick to anger. He moved to open the cell, so he could beat the Spartan senseless, but somehow remembered his place just in time. He unleashed his rage on the Elite guard instead, a nasty right hook colliding with a serpentine jaw. The Elite staggered and a spray of purple blood splattered against the floor.

"Clean that up, whelp," The Brute snarled. "Or we'll have you on corpse detail again."

"R-right away, sir." The Elite trembled.

Satisfied, the Brute marched off, the door sliding shut behind him with a pneumatic hiss.

The cell block was built to hold eight but only Harper was imprisoned here. No doubt, the Covenant running this ship knew the Spartan could conjure an uprising if he had cellmates. Instead, he was accompanied only by a single Elite guard, one who muttered pathetic little hopes under his breath every time a Brute beat him.

"Where the ever-loving fuck is this tin can even headed?" Harper groaned. "I feel like I've been here for years."

"It's been two weeks, three days, fifteen hours, and twenty-nine minutes since you arrived," The Elite rattled off. He scrubbed at the floor with a rag, bent down on hands and knees. "And this ship is headed to the Council where our Prophets will decided what to do with you."

"You fuckers've already beaten, prodded, poked, and molested me," Harper spat. "What more could you want?"

"The Council will probably want your armor dissected alongside you," The Elite seemed to talk without being consciously aware he was rambling. "The technology in your suit is advanced in a different way from our technology. Plus, if they can find what makes Spartans so formidable from investigating your body, it'll lead to leaps and bounds in our own advancements, ergo giving us an advantage in this war--"

"Shut the fuck up, oh my god," Harper took off his shoe and threw it at his cell door. The plasma rippled and buzzed but didn't budge. "Are you aware of how much you fucking ramble? Christ, I'd go insane!"

"Right. Yes."

Harper kneaded at his eyes. Two weeks? He'd been ambushed, beaten, and stolen two whole weeks ago, a prisoner on this godforsaken ship headed off into oblivion. He sighed. He missed The Charon. He missed his team. He missed other humans. Even if he was a bit prickly and antisocial, he still had friends, loved ones. He missed the mess hall, training, Earth. Being in such an alien environment for so long with no allies was wearing on his psyche.

"You and I are in a similar situation."

Harper looked up. The Elite was peering down at him, still on the floor cleaning.

"Come again?" 

"I am also a prisoner," The Elite continued. "They enjoy punishing me. I've been deemed a coward unfit for battle so I'm stuck doing the work no one else wants. I'm more akin to an Unggoy than an actual Sangheili."

"Oh, wonderful, I'm being detained by the class loser, that makes me feel so much better about myself."

"Are you a hero by human standards?"

Harper jolted a little at the oddly innocent question. Now that he got a better look at the Elite, the poor guy looked haggard. His armor was clearly unfit for his lanky build and most of the bulky protective plating was stripped down. He was pretty defenseless as he was, wielding what looked more akin to a decorative spear than a real weapon.

Ok, so maybe this one Covenant scum was genuinely pathetic, barely a threat. That didn't give Harper any sort of advantage.

"I've heard rumors that a schism is on the near horizon," The Elite went on. "That tensions are high between us Sangheili and the Jiralhanae, the Brutes."

"Yeah?" Harper snapped. In this dim little corner at the edge of space, Jonah's voice echoed in his head. Listen, absorb, react. "What kinda schism?"

"One that'll no doubt reset the hierarchy of power within the Covenant itself," The Elite sighed, leaning heavily against his spear. "Not that I'll be lowered beyond the dung heap status I hold now."

A shift of power? That'd be quite an opening for an escape. Harper peered up, watching. The Elite looked miserable. Downtrodden, thrown out like trash; even if he was weak, he was still over 7ft tall, made of lean corded muscle. If Harper could tip this one Sangheili into his corner, the odds may follow in his favor.

"Hey, what's your name?" Harper tried to channel Jonah. His tone turned sweet, his gravelly voice softening. "If you're gonna be stuck as my warden, I might as well know your name."

"Me?" The Elite raised his head. He crept a little closer to the cell, eyes narrowed. "Uhm. I'm Xiga. Xiga 'Vuntak."

"Nice to meet you, Xiga, I'm Harper-057," Harper forced a grin and hoped he didn't look manic. "I'm a Spartan II, I work infiltration assignments on the reg. Sorta sneak and stealth sorta guy."

"Wow," Xiga looked starstruck. "Then how did we capture such a highly-skilled enemy so easily?"

Harper felt a vein pop in his forehead but pushed on.

"Hey, what if I taught you some combat stuff, huh? I bet human training is real different from Sangheili training, yeah?"

"Depends on if you'll mock and demean me when I mess up, then beat my body into pulp."

Christ, this bastard was pathetic. Harper shook his head, still holding a toothy grimace.

"I promise you I won't. Here-- hold your spear, right over left, and take a stance," Harper clambered upright. Even as a smaller Spartan, he felt claustrophobic in this cell. Spreading his feet as wide as his shoulders with his right leading, he gripped an imaginary spear and swung with his hips. "You're real lanky, you've got a more substantial reach than you realize."

Xiga copied his movements and a flash of excitement passed over his serpentine features. He repeated the motion and approximated a grin.

Hell yeah, Harper thought. He was that much  closer to an epic escape.

[onenerdtwonagas]

A Doctor & A Vampire (Regency/Vampire au)

It had been roughly a month since Doctor Uriah Hoffman had decided to take up the offer presented to him. The Nocturne estate had greeted him in all its solitary grandeur. The grounds, covered in lush gardens of wide variety, were nestled comfortably in the middle of the woods and hills. There was a pristine lake just a brief walk away, which could be seen from the highest points of the manor, that reflected the morning sun like a brilliant mirror. With so much ample ground under the noble family’s jurisdiction, it was a biologist’s dream. And to think the eldest son had taken interest in his work, enough to sponsor him and even provide lodgings within the manor itself, was enough to make the young scholar pinch himself several times a day for the first week.

But time had passed, and he had been given full leisure of the study, the library, and free roam of the grounds. Every so many days, the young Lord Nocturne would take his tea or coffee with the doctor to inquire after his studies. They’d discuss other topics as well, of course. Music, literature, politics—the latter of which Lord Nocturne was much more educated on—were all touched upon at one point or another. It didn’t take long before Uriah found the other man’s company to be just as agreeable as the beautiful lands he owned. Perhaps more so. Which was a dangerous thought.

To be fond of men was trouble enough, but to be fond of a nobleman... Well, times and society weren’t kind to that sort of behavior. How he wished it were different. Having to dodge debutantes and their desire for proposals every social season since he had become of age had become quite the tiresome endeavor. He was glad to escape it within the halls of Nocturne estate.

But the young lord was swiftly beginning to prove steep competition for Uriah’s attention. When he caught glimpses of his dark hair and vividly blue eyes, he found it increasingly difficult to focus on whichever text or sample he had previously been pouring over. His laugh was warm and infectious during their discussions. He had an effortlessly charming smile. Uriah wondered how he hadn’t found someone to marry. Surely dozens of women had vied for his affection.

But...that wasn’t his place to question. So he poured himself ever further into his work. Botany was a tricky study, but there was no greater time than the summer, when so many blooms were coming in.

He was shut in the study late in the evening, working my lamplight at dissecting a rose he had carefully selected from the garden that afternoon. Perhaps if he learned enough about this particular specimen, he could try crossing it with another to create a hardier breed. Roses were so terribly fickle—

“Still toiling away at this late hour?”

He nearly leapt out of his skin. Uriah whirled around and stared back at the Lord, frozen by the yelp his guest had let out. And then he dissolved into laughter and leant against a bookshelf for support.

“Good God, you cry out like that and the staff will think I’ve struck you!”

“You might as well have, sneaking in on me like that!”

Uriah felt his cheeks burn as he smoothed his hair back and tried to readjust himself in his seat. Lord Nocturne wiped a tear from his eye and calmed himself.

“Sneaking? It is my manor, good sir. Perhaps I’ll sneak and slink about as I like,” he chimed, folding his arms and propping a hip against the side of the mahogany table Uriah worked on. He cocked his head, watching him continue with his careful dissection. Uriah could sense eyes on him, but kept his gaze down. Out of...shyness? Proper manners? Focus? He couldn’t tell.

“I could watch you all day,” Lord Nocturne murmured.

“Pardon?”

“Your hands. You’re quite good with them.”

That made Uriah look up, one brow quirked. The lord chuckled and tilted his chin downwards.

“Your dissections, I mean. It’s like watching an artist at work. A master at your craft.”

“Dissection is merely one minor component of the craft, my lord,” Uriah sighed, shaking his head. He deftly removed a petal and set it aside.

“Orpheus.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve lived here for a month now. You can simply call me Orpheus.”

Uriah swallowed.

“I...would not want to be improper.”

“Oh, listen to you, more tied-up than a blushing new debutante,” he chuckled. “Improper, he says... Would it truly be so terrible to call one another by our first names, Doctor Hoffman? Aren’t we good friends by now?”

“Well, I suppose so.”

“You suppose so?”

Uriah rolled his eyes and tried not to let his smirk show too broadly.

“Are you a lord or a parrot?”

“See? Just that! You think I’d let anyone poke fun at me that way? Come now, call me Orpheus and I’ll call you Uriah.”

He sighed, shaking his head and setting his work down once more. Uriah slumped back in his chair and flung his hands up.

“Very well, it’s your manor, as you said. Orpheus.”

A genuine smile washed across the lord’s face. He truly did have a devilishly handsome smile. Uriah found it all too easy to look at.

“Very good, Uriah. I like that much better.”

“I suppose you get tired of all the formality? Is that it?”

“More or less. It can be tiring. Oh, of course, I recognize the privileges of being of noble birth, the wealth, the prestige, on and on and—well. You know,” he sighed, shooing away an imaginary fly.

“But it’s a comfort to have those who address you by name rather than title. I rather like having someone I can simply be myself with. Not ‘Young Lord Nocturne’. Just Orpheus.”

“I see,” Uriah mused, propping his head in one hand. “And who exactly is, ‘just Orpheus’, hmm? How different is he from his titled self?”

Orpheus sighed and clicked his tongue against his teeth. He turned his attention to one of the tall, wide windows that adorned the outer-facing wall of the study, approaching with languid steps. He pulled back the curtain and stared out at the wide, white moon that shone over the grounds, and the glittering stars that hung in the night sky.

“Someone who would shock proper society,” he answered at length. He glanced back over his shoulder at Uriah. “Perhaps I would shock you, as well.”

That look. Uriah wasn’t entirely innocent to a longing stare from across a ballroom floor. But he was suddenly tense. For such a smoldering gaze to come from him, from someone that charismatic and charming... It felt dangerous.

“Come,” Orpheus said, tilting his head towards the glass. “It’s a lovely night; you should look.”

Uriah held his breath for a long, quiet moment. Orpheus beckoned him over with a playful flick of the wrist. Exhaling heavily, Uriah obeyed the summons, and crossed the floor with hesitant steps. Orpheus was right; it did look like a lovely evening. The air would be warm, and the gardens’ abundant blossoms would adorn the breeze with their scent. It was the perfect night for the city’s social elites and their offspring to be dancing the hours away, toasting to newly agreed upon proposals, spreading the most recent gossip...

“It is beautiful,” Uriah consented.

“Yes. Beautiful.”

Something, he wasn’t sure what, made Uriah turn and look up at Orpheus. He was surprised to see the lord’s eyes not on the view outside, but on him instead. And so very, very intense. His blue eyes seemed to glow in the evening light away from the lamp at the table. They looked like the moon itself. Very much so. Almost...almost ethereal....

Wait, were they truly glowing?

“You...your eyes...”

His words weren’t coming easily to him. Uriah’s brow furrowed and he tried to think of the rest of the sentence he had started. He could speak perfectly well, so why could he not speak just then? And why could he not look away from those eyes? His eyes...

Uriah tried to move, to step back from the window, but his legs felt heavy, as if his boots were made of lead. He took one staggering step backwards, his spine meeting with the end of a tall bookshelf. Orpheus remained still, though his hand dropped from the curtain. His eyes retained their ethereal glow.

“Y-Your eyes...glowing...”

“Easy now,” Orpheus said softly. “Don’t fight it, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Uriah tried to support himself against the wood, hands struggling for a proper grip. He should have been afraid, but the inescapable stare of Orpheus’ eyes sent an eerie calm over him. He stared back like a timid deer, caught in a strange trap he couldn’t prossibly explain.

“What...w-what are you—“

His knees failed him, and he felt his body give in to the force of gravity. Rather than hitting the floor as expected, however, Orpheus leant forward to catch him in the bend of one arm, holding him up.

“It’s alright,” Orpheus soothed. “You’re alright. Just look at me.”

What choice did he have? Orpheus held him there, the glow of his eyes sending cognitive thoughts scattering to the farthest reaches of Uriah’s mind. His spare hand brushed the doctor’s hair back from his face, tracing the curve of his jaw, seducing him with every touch.

Uriah’s body slackened further until he was as weak and pliant as a rag doll, the lord scooping him up against his chest and carrying him from the study. Had he been able to look anywhere but up at the lord’s face, he would have noticed no staff were present in the halls. It was as if they were entirely alone. This handsome lord and him, entirely weak and defenseless. It frightened him enough that a whimper escaped.

“Hush, I won’t harm you,” Orpheus crooned, his voice like velvet. “I promise.”

The door to the lord’s chambers was open. Luxurious sheets and blankets lined a large four poster bed. Paintings and pastels hung on the walls. A gentle fire crackled in his private hearth, it’s flickering glow cast about the room. Uriah’s vision swam as Orpheus nudged the door shut.

“I know what this must look like, dear Uriah, but I promise I’m not that sort of man,” Orpheus explained, voice soft. “I simply prefer not to risk intrusion. The study provides an opportunity for such.”

Uriah felt the lord seat himself on the edge of the bed, holding him in his lap. The bedside table had several odd bottles, and a bowl of steaming water with fresh cloths set aside. Even in a more clearheaded state, Uriah couldn’t have discerned what they were all for.

He was further distracted by the loosening of his shirt collar, the fabric slipping down past his shoulder. He could feel Orpheus’s fingers brushing over his skin, stroking his collarbone and caressing his neck. He stared up at him in mute confusion.

“Be still for me, now,” Orpheus whispered. Something about his mouth caught Uriah’s attention. His teeth...they looked so very sharp...

“You won’t feel a single thing...”

Lips brushed his neck. Uriah shivered. And then he felt a gentle prick, and the warmth of Orpheus’s mouth on his skin. It all seemed to make sense, then. The glow of his eyes, the seductiveness of his voice, the pointed fangs...

He could feel the flash of Orpheus’s throat as he swallowed, the gentle stroke of his fingers in his hair as he cradled his head in one hand, the brush of his other thumb against his hand as it lay limp in his lap. Uriah could only stare blankly up at the canopy of the bed, mind and vision reverberating, his senses dulled and his body docile. But the word bounced back and forth in his mind all the same:

Vampire. Vampire. Vampire...

It felt like a strange sort of eternity before Orpheus released his throat, fangs deftly retreating from smooth skin. His tongue ran over the wound, ensuring not a single drop was wasted. Somehow, he felt weaker than he had before. How could anyone be any less defenseless than a doll? That’s what he felt like, a doll in Orpheus’s arms. He should have been terrified, and yet, as Orpheus reached across him to dampen a cloth and placed it gently against Uriah’s throat, he felt safe.

“There. Not a bit of harm done,” Orpheus whispered. “Just as I promised. And you’ve already stopped bleeding. Wonderful.”

The glow was gone from Orpheus’s eyes, but it still held power over Uriah. The young man was only barely beginning to gain back his mind, but the exhaustion of being fed off of still claimed his tongue. When he attempted to form words, all that came out was a pitiful moan. Orpheus looked down with a knowing sympathy, and exchanged his cleaning rag for one of the bottles.

“I don’t suppose you’re well enough to drink on your own? ...Hmm. Doesn’t appear so. If you’ll pardon me for this,” he sighed, deftly flicking the cork out and taking a swig.

He tilted Uriah’s head back and brought their mouths together. Had his mind been better collected, he might’ve had the sense to be embarrassed by the intimacy of the gesture, but instinct took hold instead. He drank like he hadn’t in days, his body desperate to regain its strength. By the third time, Uriah was capable of drinking straight from the bottle itself, with Orpheus’s support of course.

“W-What,” Uriah gasped weakly, “have you done to me?”

“Exhausted you, I’m afraid,” Orpheus answered apologetically.

“But that should help you get your wits back. Powerful elixir, that one. I was hoping you might not need it, but it seems I went just a little over your threshold.”

Uriah shook his head.

“You...vampire...”

“Ah, yes, well—“ Orpheus shrugged. “—there is that. But you’re still weak, precious. It’s a conversation we can have after you rest.”

Uriah wanted to protest. His hand grasped at the lord’s sleeve, only for his fingers to go slack immediately and his limb to fall back to his lap. Orpheus lifted him as easily as if he were carrying a child and flicked back the covers of the bed. He set Uriah down and unfastened his boots and the buttons of his vest, easing the garments off before pulling the blankets back over him.

“You’ll be more comfortable that way. A night’s rest should put you back in sorts.”

“O-Orpheus,” Uriah stammered, “don’t...don’t leave me like this... I can’t—if something h-happens—“

“Hush, I’m not leaving,” Orpheus interrupted. “You’re not fit to be left unattended in this state. I’ll keep watch.”

Their eyes met again, and for a moment Orpheus merely watched him, head slightly tilted. Uriah wondered what he was thinking. A part of him imagined the lord biting into his neck again, and another...another wanted to know if those fangs made kisses painful. But neither curiosity was satisfied. As Orpheus reached out a hand and brushed it along Uriah’s cheek, his eyes glowed once more.

“Sleep now, Uriah,” he whispered. “Sleep.”

The command echoed inside his head and he tried to resist. He wanted answers to his questions. But Orpheus repeated himself once more, and Uriah felt the moonlike glow of the lord’s eyes and the softness of his voice pull him down deep.

—

The bed was so warm, so soft. Were his sheets in his gifted room always so comfortable? His head shifted against the pillow and his eyes blinked open sluggishly. Strange. He didn’t remember his bed having curtains, or posts. He didn’t recall going to his bed, either. And that’s when it came flooding back. Uriah sat bolt upright with a start, kicking his legs free of the sheets and grasping for the curtain. He flung it open and looked around wildly before—

“Ah, good morning, doctor.”

Orpheus sat on a chair by the now extinguished fire, looking positively casual. His legs were crossed neatly, eyes glancing up from a little book he held in his hands, and his expression as innocent as if nothing had happened the night before. Uriah nearly fell on his face as he scrambled out of the bed. He pointed a shaking, accusatory finger at him.

“You!”

“Me?”

“Y-You bit me! You’re a—“

He froze, and then whirled on his heels, searching for—ah, there! He ran to a gilded mirror on the wall and pulled his shirt collar away from his neck, hands fumbling over his skin. Behind him, Orpheus chuckled and shook his head, snapping his book closed.

“You won’t find any evidence. I’m not some barbaric leech from the dark ages.”

“But you—y-your teeth! You had fangs! How could you not?”

“Only a careless or sadistic vampire leaves marks,” the lord explained, as if it were common knowledge. “Our teeth pierce flesh, but our tongues can heal it. Though I’m not quite sure how, exactly. Perhaps a new subject for you to study?”

“Don’t mock me! I know what you did! I know you’re a vampire!”

“I never denied it.”

“And for God’s sake, you—Hell! You undressed me!”

Uriah turned crimson as he stared down at himself in nothing but a disheveled shirt and trousers. Where was his vest? His good boots? That nice necktie his mother had sent him as a congratulatory gift! And to make matters worse, Orpheus was watching with clear and obvious amusement, smiling cheekily like a child.

“I did not strip you bare, did I? Please, if I wanted to lure you to bed, dear Uriah, I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t have need of my powers. I would have you undressing willingly without them.”

“I—“

Orpheus quirked one eyebrow, his smile turning to a smirk.

“You—You dog,” Uriah muttered. He spotted his vest at last and began redressing himself, back turned towards the lord in a last-ditch effort to win the conversation. He knew Orpheus was watching, regardless, and that only made his face feel warmer. He absolutely wouldn’t admit it, but a part of him knew Orpheus was right. If he had made advances, he wouldn’t exactly have said ‘no’.

He swore under his breath as his tie gave him trouble, and he began again for the third time. The lord sighed from his chair behind him, and rose to his feet.

“Allow me,” he offered. Uriah flinched at how suddenly Orpheus stood before him, strong hands undoing the incorrect knot and smoothing the fabric to try again. He worked much slower, to the point Uriah knew he was simply savoring the moment.

“I have a...proposition for you,” Orpheus started, his words patient and measured. “Would you care to hear it?”

Uriah exhaled through his nose.

“I don’t see how I have a choice in the matter.”

The lord’s mouth twitched upward.

“Well, my dear doctor, it seems we’re both in need of something, yes? You, a highly talented scholar in need of a benefactor for your work, and I, a noble who also so happens to be a vampire in need of blood from time to time.”

“...Go on,” Uriah prodded, still at the mercy of Orpheus’s purposefully snail-paced hands.

“Let’s say we make an arrangement, hmm? You give me just a little blood when I need it, not a drop more, and I, in turn, give you whatever you want.”

“You...want to make this a business contract of some kind?” Uriah asked hesitantly, finally daring to look up at Orpheus. The lord’s eyes were intense, smoldering. His hands finished the knot of Uriah’s tie suddenly and he tugged him closer, chin forced upwards.

“It doesn’t have to strictly be business,” he purred. “You don’t think you’re the only one tired of dodging single girls and their pushy mothers, do you?”

Uriah swallowed. He remained still, and so did Orpheus, their noses so close to touching.

“A-And...if I were to say ‘no?’”

“Oh, well, then I’d have to erase your memory of last night and you’d simply stay your originally intended time,” Orpheus answered, shrugging. Then he leaned in closer, his cheek barely brushing Uriah’s, and whispered into his ear.

“But something tells me you don’t truly want to forget.”

A shudder ran the entire length of Uriah’s spine. He stared into Orpheus’s eyes as he straightened up, charming smirk and all. Even without the glow of his eyes, or whatever supernatural charms had held him fast the night before, Uriah knew: Orpheus had him. He was utterly snared, and had no hope from Heaven or Hell of untangling himself.

“What say you then, Doctor Hoffman?”

“...Call me Uriah.”

[undeadgoathead]

Whumptober 2021- Prompt # 4: Trust Fall

Devilsclaw was traveling alongside Tarragon, Bitterclover, and Dandelion, when suddenly he was grabbed from behind. He tried to scream, but a hand covered his mouth, and another throttled his throat. He grabbed at the hands that choked him, and tried to kick himself free, but he was already subdued.

“Shh, be still now, Thorn prince. We do not wish to hurt you. Come with us quietly, and do as we say.”

The unseen captor eased their grip on Devilsclaw, but he still couldn’t speak. He pawed at his own face, and was horrified to feel a strip of parchment sealing his mouth.

“We put a scroll of silence on you. It’s a demonic spell. A curse, if you will. But never fear. We know the counter-spell, an angelic blessing, to take it back off.” This voice was different. Higher. There were two people here.

One captor grabbed Devilsclaw’s wrists and held them before him, and the other bound them with a long rope. Devilsclaw struggled and screamed, even though his voice was muffled and he was outnumbered. He recognized one of them. The blue hair styled in an undercut was a dead giveaway. Brambleberry, a Wildflower Nomad. The other was a stranger. But their pink skin,  green mohawk, and face full of piercings betrayed their identity. Horsecrippler.

Brambleberry finished tying the final knot, and Horsecrippler struck the backs of Devilsclaw’s knees with a wooden staff. Devilsclaw doubled over,, falling to his knees, wincing with pain. Brambleberry and Horsecrippler towered over Devilsclaw as he knelt on the ground.

“I warned you.” Horsecrippler sneered. “Obey me or you will get hurt.” They grabbed Devilsclaw under his arms, and hoisted him back on his feet.

“Are you well enough to walk?” Brambleberry asked.

Before Devilsclaw could answer, Bramleberry yanked on the long rope that dangled from Devilsclaw’s bound hands, forcing him to stagger a few steps forward.

“Yep, he’s alright to march.” Horsecrippler snipped.

“Alright, come along now, Thorn prince. We have plans for you.”

They brought him toward the Wildflower Palace, a magnificent tower of intertwined grass, trees, and stones. Even from a mile away, they could see the green spire as they approached its living walls. Brambleberry walked in front of Devilsclaw, leading him by the rope. Horsecrippler walked behind, with their needle-sharp blade aimed at the small of Devilsclaw’s back, forcing him to keep up his pace. Devilsclaw hung his head, ashamed of his capture.

They finally reached a massive, mossy door of their destination. Brambleberry pounded on the door. Devilsclaw mewled against the scroll that gagged him, and struggled against the ropes, but Horsecrippler held him down. “Shut up! We’ve taken you this far. We’re not letting you get away now.” But Devilsclaw continued to resist.

Just then, the door swung open, revealing a beautiful fae with long blue braids falling over her dark brown skin.

“Larkspur! Just in time!” Horsecrippler called out, still struggling to control Devilsclaw.

“Horsecrippler. Brambleberry.” Larkspur nodded in a curt greeting. “Who have you got there?”

“We’ve captured the Thorn prince!” Brambleberry boasted.

“Is that so? I’ve never met Devilsclaw in person before. Sovereign will be most pleased! Come now, take him inside.”  Larksur stepped aside, welcoming them within.

Devilsclaw stared at Larkspur as Horsecrippler and Brambleberry dragged him in. She didn’t look like he had pictured her. She was an ancient and wise elder mystic, yet she appeared so young.  But why did he even know her name?He had heard of her before, but where and when? Could she be the one who had stolen Bitterclover from the Bisti Badlands?

“You’re lucky that our Wandering King happened to be in the palace tonight. Our Sovereign travels extensively, even for one of our nomadic clan of Wildflowers.” Larkspur led them down the earthy hallway. They came across a wooden door, with brass knobs and knocker, at the end of a narrow passageway. Larkspur rapped  her knuckles on the door three times. “Lord Sovereign, it is I, Larkspur, your royal Mystic. Your faithful soldiers, Brambleberry and Horsecrippler, have come to seek your audience.”

After a few moments, there was a rattle at the brass doorknob, and the door opened with a creak. Someone with blonde hair peeked through the crack.

“Marigold! Is our king in the throne room?”

“Yes, lady Larkspur. Please come inside. Horsecrippler, Brambleberry. Welcome.” Marigold gasped when she saw Devilsclaw, bound and gagged. “Is that-?”

Larkspur put a finger on her lips to hush her. “Shh. It’s a surprise.”

Marigold nodded silently, and ushered them all into the grand throne room.

Devilsclaw gulped. The roome was supported by columns of red marble, and the floor was pink granite. The walls were adorned with impressionist oil paintings framed in ornate brass, bronze, and gold. The throne was similarly jeweled and intricate. Before the grand throne, stood a tall, lean man with locks of golden hair spilling out over his suit of armor. He wore a robe of red velvet. He stood proud, holding his mighty broadsword, pointing ceremoniously downward.

Larkspur and Marigold curtsied, while Brambleberry and Horsecrippler bowed low, taking Devilsclaw down with them. Horsecrippler pushed down on the back of Devilsclaw’s head, forcing him down even further, as he tried to crane his neck to look Sovereign in the eye.

“Welcome to my court, subjects. What brings you to my palace this evening?” Sovereign spoke in a smooth, soothing voice. Even as he spoke softly, his voice commanded respect and reverence.

“Your majesty, Brambleberry and I have captured the Thorn prince, Devilsclaw.” Horsecrippler said.

“I see. Let go of him. I want to take a closer look.”

“My lord?”

“I command you to unhand him!”

Brambleberry and Horsecrippler obeyed. Devilsclaw was still kneeling, but straightened his back up straight in defiance. The king grabbed Devilsclaw by the chin and peered into his eyes.

“Hmm. Purple irises. Long black hair. Golden hoop earrings. This certainly looks like Devilsclaw.” Sovereign grabbed the rope falling from Devilsclaw’s wrists, and hoisted his hands up, inspecting his arms. “I don’t see any cuts or bruises on him, though it is difficult to tell, with these tattoos. Still, well done. You know I want our prisoners treated fairly. Especially my fellow royalty.”

Devilsclaw winced. Sovereign could not see the welts behind his knees, where Horsecrippler had hit him.

“Thank you, my lord. We followed your orders to treat our captives humanely.” Brambleberry said.

“Indeed. “ Sovereing replied. “ We shall ransom him back to the Thorn Empire. They will have three days to give us our money and collect their prince. Until then, keep him locked up in our holding cells. But unbind him, and give him something to eat and drink.”

“Yes,  my liege.” Horsecrippler and Brambleberry said in unison. They picked Devilsclaw up, back on his feet, and walked him down another hallway. His new home was a chamber deep underground beneath the palace.

Brambleberry took Devilsclaw’s bound hands and hastily untied them. Devilsclaw massaged his sore wrists. Horsecrippler recited an ancient, gutteral spell, and the scroll of silence fell from Devilsclaw’s lips, and burned itself off in a wisp of crimson smoke.

“Thank you.” Devilsclaw gasped. He still resented his captors, but hi was relieved to finally move and speak freely again.

“Silence, little weed.” Horsecroppler snapped.

“Excuse me?” Devilsclaw bristled. Nobody had ever insulted him like this before. At least, not too his face. Sure, the Thorn Empire was invasive and all-consuming. But to be called a weed was the ultimate humiliation.

“You heard me. Sit down and be quiet. You Thorns are so barbaric. Even a prince like you.” Horsecrippler scoffed.

“It’s you Wildflowers who are savages! You ambushed me, and now I’m your prisoner!”

“Yes, we captured you. But we didn’t kill you. We didn’t even maim you. We have nothing to gain from torturing a weak little sapling like yourself. We’re holding you hostage for ransom. We need your money more than we need you.”

“But-“

“And we took only you. You were the only valuable one. Tarragon has lost all her former status, glory, and riches. Her brother, the former king Basil, is now a common soldier, as lowly as myself and Brambleberry. Dandelion and Bitterclover are merchants. Their modest fortunes wouldn’t even be worth the trouble of kidnapping them. But you? Emperor Tribulus and Widow Witch Belladonna will pay a fine price for your head.”

“Joke’s on you. My father hates me. And the merchants will help Tarragon find me.”

Horsecrippler cackled. “Your father loves you, at least as an heir to his empire and legacy, if nothing else. That alone is worth a prince’s ransom. Or perhaps it will be your beloved mystic, Sagebrush, will pay for your safe return. Or your lover, Tarragon, who you said will find you anyway. But even if she and the merchants find you, they’ll still have to pay the price to have you back.”

“Thorn warriors would have captured all, or captured the prince and killed the rest. But we Wildflowers show some sophistication and restraint, a testament to our virtuous chivalry.”  Brambleberry bragged.

Devilsclaw paused. He remembered the legends, tales, and stories about valiant Thorn warriors, like his grandmother, Woodspider, who was notoriously ruthless in battle. In his heart, Devilsclaw knew that Horsecrippler and Brambleberry were right about Thorn military tactics, thought he hated to admit it.

“Here’s your rations, damn it.” Horsecrippler threw a flask of water and a loaf of bread on the ground at Devilsclaw’s feet. Horsecrippler slammed the barred door shut and locked Devilsclaw in the cell.

[tarasylnin-lavellan]

Justice’s Decision

"You are not the hounds that I was expecting," balefully glowing blue eyes watched the pair from the trees.

"DIRTHAMENS SHADOWY BALLS DON'T DO THAT

!" Harel was near panicked by the sudden words. Cole turned to the source an exclaimed "Your here!" Tara stepped further into the weak dawn light painting her pale face in the washed out illumination. "You've come sniffing around for me, Da'len. Unfortunately, you've trekked all this way for nothing. You should leave before the inquisition truly comes bearing down its arms. I would not want to see you bloody your hands." Tara looked worn to the end of breaking and her hands shook as she rested one against a tree. "Because they will come, they will have too, they will come with dogs and armor; and I won't have them hunt you too you must run, run any direction but mine." 

Harel looked at the woman before her, eyebrows climbing in frank astonishment is this truly what she believed that a hoard of hunters was on her trail? "Are you daft? Mad? Tara we came here to find you to stop you from running away! No one is hunting you!" Tara's head snapped toward Harel and she flinched at the sudden movement 

"Not yet they aren't, not yet, you did get here remarkably fast however. I don't know how you found me so quickly, but for your own safety you have to run." Cole’s weak but insistent voice answered Tara's confusion "We found you when you didn't want to be found, we know you're hurting and we want to help. Please! Let me help!" Tara snarled deep in her chest an animal wounded near to madness " I didn't want to be found for good reason! You knew that Dalen, I won't have you hurt because of ME!" As the turmoil in Tara grew a deep blue light coiled out from her, darker than the previous time its darkness reflecting her own. "Just go..." the words were tired and sad. 

Cole and Harel stand side by side as Tara attempts to frighten the pair off, but they're stock still, their faces unchanging even as the blue wisps lick out at them threateningly. Harel watched the display meant to panic them "we're not leaving." Cole spoke softly hearing the desperate hurt in Tara the rents in her soul. "burdens break your back till your body aches. We will help carry. We must..." Tara face goes blank as she thinks of returning the pain too much. "I cannot go back, and I cannot stop them from hunting me you can't be in the path of danger not for me. No one else is dying because I was made into a weapon No one I. will. not. allow. it."  Harel started to feel an indignant anger rising in her this damned woman "WILL YOU PUT THAT STUPID FUCKING SELFLESSNESS DOWN FOR ONE SECOND!!! her fists clenched tightly in frustration "you are not a weapon, YOURE TARA! You're so much stronger than you think, please, please don't lose yourself!

Cole could feel the choking fear the panic coiling its hateful tendrils around Tara. "I don't like this. It feels cold, like wind before the storm." Harel held her hands out to Tara in supplication "no one's going to hurt you, please, just come back. No one will get you, well make sure of it please don't run away." Cole felt it then the old memory the screaming of a child taken by Hate. "There are no templars! No voices screaming! You don't have to run, shouting mamae. You don't have to.....

Tara felt herself losing control and gripped her head in dread. " They will follow you here, I made a mistake, I am a fool. I never should have allowed a Templar to love me, just even think that I was normal, that I was even close to worthy of being normal! Just go..." The light of her bound soul swirled darker wrapping close to her. Harel called trying to break the hold of the panic "you're a lot of things but a fool isn't one. you need to calm down, you're scaring Cole. And me, just a bit. You're not going to hurt us and we're afraid but we're afraid FOR you. Please. Calm down" Tara's eyes closed and tears streamed down her face "my fault, I am too blame, I knew better" she fell to her knees "I knew better. Cole felt the hurt old and jagged wrapped in layers of walls now exposed and screaming monster, a monster I am a monster. "don't drown in yourself. The lion roars in grief not in rage. Please. Don't hurt yourself, it's hurting us, hurting him." Tara choked on the fear on the hatred she felt inside " His eyes I CANT no... No I can't I just hurt people I can't" she curled around the pain "this is my fault." Cole reached trying to tug on the pain but it was so old so omnipresent that he couldnt tug it loose. "you're a sword and a scalpel and a shield. You don't hurt because you want to, like Erimond and Samson, you hurt because you have to. You protect and pretend to step above the thing in you, to be more than just the breath and the purpose. Stop hurting yourself!" A ragged sob tore from Tara "I hurt everything I touch! I cannot go back not now not ever, I cannot bear to the see fear in his eyes.... I cannot watch him break inside."  

Cole felt it within her the desperate need to be accepted for this to be a bad dream. Tara wanted to stay but she was so afraid of it she ran away. But one person was there, a light shining in dark forest of her mind. "breathe. This isn't you. It's the fear, the forgotten one speaking. You can't let it talk over you and control everything. You're losing yourself to what you think will happen. Lions roar but they don't bite without reason, the serpent curls around his paws and he's silent." He conjured the thought of Dorian like a Talisman, trying to calm her down.

Tara latched onto the one person she knew didn't fear her with the desperate strength of a drowning person. "Dorian? What could he say? how could he" Her eyes began to lighten in color with her brothers mention. Cole reached for it pulling the threads in her "he shouts over the noise of the old songs, the trauma of the circle, the fires in Kirkwall. He screams instead of hissing, his love and his hate all so that the lion knows, knowledge dripping like sweat when you held him, shaking craving the blue song. He learned its name and now the lion has a shape on his tongue to call your eyes." Tara stares at the boy in desperate, sad, hope mute. But the light has returned to crystal blue and slowed curling around her like mist again. Cole reaches for the hurt and speaks "Put your sword down, the scales don't have to fill with blood. You fear the inevitable even when it isn't to be. It's ok to fear, to be afraid of what might happen, but it won't." Cole stares forward, ice blue eyes unmoving and unblinking as if he speaks to Tara and yet, not to her at all. As if he speaks to someone else entirely "Don't be afraid but don't be angry. You're safe, Da'len."

Tara wanted to believe, she needed to believe but everything she had ever learned told her otherwise. She whispers "How could he ever see past..." Cole watched her with sadness in his eyes "Monsters are real, he's seen them before. He needs to look again, like a mouse who's lost its tail to a trap, he needs to see, to know that it's not the same. Love is love and you'll give him back his tail." Tara knelt trying to pull the frayed pieces of her mind back together. Her mothers voice spoke in her heart, and she looked up "I cannot go back to the castle, not until I know,  I cannot trap myself there." Cole watches as she tries to accept a new path and his voice is firm for once "we'll protect you. You won't be trapped, I promise. And if you are then...." Harel stepped up next to Cole face still and stoic for once "then we'll let you leave for good and we won't follow you. We'll even keep those people off your trail. Just....trust us."  

Tara knew the path she had to take not returning and not fleeing. She had to try, she had to give him a chance, as terrifying as that was. "if he... wants answers that's his right but, he has to meet me outside of that place. My mother would kill me if I walked into a cage willingly." Cole nods feeling the old memories "Hands on my shoulder she raises her voice, but not to frighten to lecture. Don't let the shem keep you in submission. We are the People, and never again shall we submit. Eyes stern but loving, she would reprimand me if I allowed myself to be foolish." Tara nods looking at the pair decision firming in her eyes. "He can meet me, alone, in the Emerald Graves I will wait."

Harel watches as Tara breathes heavily, her purple eyes for once wide in fear instead of narrowed in disinterest. It was a shocking sight to see one so strong reduced to this mess but it was understandable. She walked this thin line, always keeping her guard up. Now that she was tired, it was only natural for her to regress. "You've chosen an interesting place, Hah'ren. May the grave of Mahariel give your conversation the strength to pull through this. Would.....would you like one of us to stay?" Tara shook her head staggering to her feet "No, no. This must be seen to alone. But thank you. I have to face him by myself."

Cole watches as he always does with his moping face drawn low, sad to leave Tara alone after such suffering. The Inquisitor could see the pain in his eyes like a wounded Halla. Tara looked at the young man "it has to be alone Cole if...if things go badly I want to.. I want it to be alone I will go there and wait This has to be done right."

Cole nods, his hat dipping down in a short stroke and never once turning upwards. Harel comforts the boy with a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back from his sadness of leaving the Inquisitor alone. "We're here" it is all he says before he shimmers a light green, disappearing into the darkness to find his way towards Skyhold.

Harel shakes her head, an eyebrow raised as she mutters, "Love how he expects me to keep up with his invisible ass." Its the last thing Harel says that barely draws a smirk from Tara. Just barely. The trees gather around the storm mage as she bids her companions goodbye, setting off with the same heavy heart but so much less apprehension. She makes her winding way to the heart of the vast forest feet silent on the ground. She is a phantom in this place, her path undecided. As night falls around her the shadows dull the sharpened edges of reality. she sets up camp on a high rock bluff in the great trees the song of the branches soothing and sad. Let this be the place she thinks if I have to go with Falon'din let it be here.

Cole and Harel return to skyhold quickly leading the disgruntled Hart with them. Dorian bustled through the crowd his face drawn and afraid. "please PLEASE tell me that you didn't lose her."

Harel folds her arms, appraising the worried Tevinter before speaking "She's fine and safe and super fucking rattled. But safe. She wants to meet Cullen in the Emerald Graves; her territory instead of here since you know....its kind of uninhabitable to her at the moment. Dorian lets a whoosh of held breath at the words of the half breed. "She is alive, and she is thinking at least." Cole interrupts the thought though pushing past Harel the Qunari-elf is confused at the sudden movement before he starts speaking as well. His voice is tinged with emotion as he mimics Harel's voice "I'll kill that curly haired bastard Ill shock his shit for what he's done the fucking templar!" Dorian lunged forward covering the boys mouth with his hand. Leveling a glare that could've frozen the sun at Harel he hissed "stop thinking in such vulgar terms!" Cole subsided and Dorian stood thinking "Now.....She wants to meet him in the Graves? Oh Isa'ma'lan, you make everything so planned, don't you. I've tried doing as much damage control as I can from here but...I suppose we'll have to trust what Tara will do next is the right thing. Kaffas, she worries me so."

Dorian strode alone heading for the Commanders Tower, better from him after all. Pushing open the door he sees Cullen standing behind his desk hands braced on its surface his face drawn and haggard. At the mages approach Cullen's head snaps up a worried flash in his eyes. "Is there word?!" Dorian held up a manicured hand "Pack you essentials, if you want to speak to Tara, she wants you, and you alone, in the Emerald Graves. I don't have to say do not try anything after that little talk we had, now do I?" Cullen blinks his brow furrowing "why didn't she come back here?" Dorian rolled his eyes in exasperation "The tactician that you are should know the reason. Come here, where you are? After your terrible reaction? She probably thinks you'll try to kill her and we both know how much that will hurt the both of you. At least out there, there's control in the place she feels strongest.

All right my lovelies one more chapter to this whenever I can bully my sad tired artists brain into making more ✨words✨

after that I will put all of them together into one continuous story line 

as always all the love and thanks in the whole world to @w-h-4-t for the dialog help Ir lath ma Da’len 

[fics-not-tragedies]

Claimed

©

This is fic based on this request I got ages ago, and it is what it is, I couldn’t help myself!

SUMMARY: You’re surprised when from your balcony you see Santino having a smoke at the stairway that leads to your house. Turns out he came to you to claim the Marker you gave him few years ago. Words:  3958; Warnings: smut;

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @mikaneonox; @drunkonyellow; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven​; @girl-at-the-verge; @boopdedoop​; @jardani-jovonovich-bitch​; @ladyreapermc​; @wifeofdarklordsworld​; @mysticfluffyness​; @zombiepandajfish​; @kollover24​; @greenmanalishi​; @persephonehemingway​; @lovelycarose​;

You were surprised when you saw him standing on the steps that lead to your house. He was quickly finishing the cigarette before he leaned closer to press the buzzer on the wall, but you were quicker, opened the door ahead of his slender finger touching the small button.

“Santino…” you breathed out his name and he raised his eyebrow, the much obvious smile on his lips followed right after when his eyes landed on your figure, “I saw you from the balcony” his gaze moved up and down your body before it finally settled on your face, his eyes growing wider with a silent question, “looks like I should change my plans now… Please come inside.”

Inviting him in with a gesture of your hand you stepped to the side making more space for him and as he slowly sauntered inside your house he quickly turned around so he could still look at you.

“Were you going out, bella?” He asked in a soft tone, shrugging his coat onto your sofa when you two walked arm in arm into your living room.

“Yes I was… but since you’re already here I might just ditch the idea. What brought you here, Santino?”

With your arms crossed in front of your chest and your side pressed into the floor length mirror you carefully eyed him. Santino reached into the inside pocket of his jacket then slowly walked over to you, handing you the Marker.

“I’d like to fulfill this…” you opened it only to see your own bloody fingerprint pressed onto the metal.

“What requires my assistance then?” Voice got stuck in your throat when he undid all of the buttons of his jacket, then took the Marker from your hands and placed it on the tall table by the mirror where you kept your most handy knives.

Then he was right behind you, his hands grasping your sides, his body pressed into yours, “I require your assistance, bella…” he rasped.

“M-Me?”

You caught his gaze in the reflection, the way his lips twitched at the thought of all the things he wanted to do to you. Your entire body felt tense, afraid to move in or out of his touch and as he moved your hair back over your shoulder to expose your neck, you couldn’t help but sigh, your left hand coming down to clutch his wrist in an attempt to steady yourself. His mouth was so close to your neck, his breath tickling the sensitive skin exactly where he knew he’d be able to change your mind for good with just the slightest brush of his lips.

“Santino … please…” you whispered, as if to beg him to allow you to keep some of your self-control because you knew that as soon as he’d go in for the kill, you wouldn’t be able to resist. He was going to be the end of you. 

“Yes, bella?” He drawled, his hands slowly wandering up your sides, his grip tightening as he dragged them along your body, his fingertips just brushing past the underside of your breasts.

“I-I…” You were lost for words, the only thing you could think of now were his hands wandering upwards, groping your breasts while he sucked on your neck, pressing himself closer to you. You were playing a dangerous game now, not resisting meant that he was going to win, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. You trembled as he pressed his lips to the side of your neck and your skin tingled as he started sucking right below your ear, his words making your knees weak. 

“Don’t fight me, bella…”

“Can’t you wait?” You sighed, exhausted, a last attempt at holding it together, your eyes fluttering as you failed to conceal the effect of his touch. Santino took in a sharp breath, as his hands grabbed hungrily at your chest, spilling your breasts further out of your dress, eager to see more of you.

“No pupa” he uttered forcefully, meeting your gaze in the mirror, unblinking, “If I don’t fuck you right now I will tease you all night at the party and you will beg me to take you…”

As soon as he’d finished speaking you melted into him pathetically, his insatiable need making your knees buckle.

Your arms were shaking as you tried to hold on to the edge of the table, swallowing hard. The low tone in his voice, the rough touch of his hands, it was too much for you. 

“Santino…”

“That’s right, bella…” he drawled, “I’ll have you screaming my name in no time. Cazzo, I’ll fuck you so hard you’d forget your own name…” you whimpered, pressing your body back into his desperately, craving more, craving all of him, craving for him to fulfill his promises, “I know you want me, bella…” he chuckled, “I bet your cunt’s so fucking wet for me already…”

You let out a staggered breath, one you didn’t realize you’d been holding and tried to press your legs together, try to keep him from finding out too soon just how right he was but he shuffled slightly and his knuckles nudged your thighs apart with ease, your lips falling open in a weak protest.

In one swift move, his fingers found their way to your already soaked panties and you relaxed against him as he began to rub the fabric, teasing you when he knew he had no reason to. He knew you were desperate, he knew you needed him, he knew he’d won - but this was punishment for trying to defy him.

“I knew I was right…” he groaned, pressing his lip close to your ear, his free arm circling your waist to draw your closer against him, restricting your movement, “Fucking dripping for me. You’re gagging for it bella, aren’t you?”

Your dress had bunched up a little in his movement, but he pulled it further out of his way now, exposing you, and you both watched the way he teased you in the mirror. You could feel his growing arousal pressing against you, the feeling of his cock straining against his trousers, his belt barely containing him.

Your eyes fell shut tightly as you grew painfully aware of how he’d made you so wet, had gotten you so desperate for him within merely a few seconds. He knew just how to push your buttons, how to get you to surrender, and he was taking full advantage of it. You breathed out shakily as you felt him press up against you, the outline of his cock rubbing against your ass and you were aching for him, the empty feeling between your legs growing more and more prominent, “Please…" 

"Oh, you  better beg me…” he growled, attaching his lips to your neck, sucking lightly on your skin, “Thinking you can fucking resist me…”

His spicy scent intoxicating you mixed with the faint memory of the cigarette he’d just finished, your eyelids felt heavy and you moaned uncontrollably, any dignity or restraint you had before draining from you in mere moments.

You reached up to grab what you could of his hair. His nose wrinkled with concentration and frustration as he forced your underwear aside, his fingertips pressing into your clit hard. You jerked in his touch, desperate to feel full. For a moment you’d thought you’d have the upper hand, gripping his hair always making him weak, but the second his fingers brushed through your folds, making their way to press hard against your clit, every shred of self-control, every shred of power went up in smoke.

Santino had full control of you and he knew it, toying with your clit at a torturous pace that kept you on the edge, but wasn’t quite enough to get you there yet.

“Look at yourself, pretty girl” he drawled, lifting your chin and holding your neck so that you were straight right back at yourself in the mirror, “Do you see what I’m doing to you?” He added, his breaths short and shallow, “You look fucking gorgeous and all, what a perfect sight.”

And just when you thought he was going to let you have what you’d been expecting by building up his pace and pushing you closer to the edge, he worked his fingers inside you instead, curling them to make you shake around him and you hissed as he stroked your walls to bring you closer to the edge in away you hadn’t been quite expecting.

Your knees were weak, your legs shaking from the way his fingers curled inside you, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge, his thumb coming up to tease your clit and you could barely hold on, felt yourself getting closer and closer in a matter of seconds but then he stopped. You should’ve known it was too good to be true but you whimpered with desperation nonetheless. 

“Santino…” you cried, your voice small, needy, absolutely desperate. 

“Shouldn’t have resisted me, eh? I will make you regret that, bella, you will wish you shouldn’t have put up a fight…”

You whimpered as he curled his fingers inside you again to emphasize his words, his hand tightening as it came around your throat, forcing you to look back at yourself in the mirror, your face flushed, eyes wide, lips parted slightly.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Santino…” you mumbled, over and over, desperate for him to let you go, “I’m sorry, baby…” the words fell from your lips without you even trying, his gaze forcing you to submit, willing to do anything just for your release. He had you bouncing on the edge and you both knew that one solid move would be enough to send you spiraling but he knew your body, knew how you worked under his touch so he hovered around the feeling, still not read to give in just yet.

“Well, have you learned your lesson, pupa?” He spat as you held onto him for stability.

“I think so…” you sighed through gritted teeth, your body beginning to slump as your knees knocked together and your vision went blurry as the mirror began to fog with the way you’d been pathetically panting.

“I’m not so sure I believe you” Santino replied, darkly, drawing his fingers from you. The feeling was agonizing and cruel but before you could so much as complain, he bent you over the table and slapped his hand over your bare ass forcefully, licking his lips hungrily at the sound. You body shifted forward with the sting and your groaned, the sensation bringing tears to your eyes suddenly. It was all consuming, the wet between your thighs dripping and you tried to gather yourself, open your eyes to look at him again but you couldn’t focus on anything but how badly you needed more from him.

Despite his heavy breathing against your neck, despite his body pressing so tightly against yours, you knew his every move was planned out, set out specifically to tease you, to make sure you’d regret telling him no at first. His hand ran down to your breast, groping harshly at it as his other hand spread your wetness around, his voice unfazed, nonchalant as if he wasn’t driving you absolutely out of your mind with his fingers. 

“You’re so wet, bella…” he drawled, “I haven't allowed you to cum and it feels like I’ve fucked you to orgasm twice already….”

You whimpered desperately, well aware of how wet you were for him. He’d slide inside you so easily and the thought of his cock finally filling you made you dizzy. 

“Got it running down your legs, principessa…” he muttered, just poking a finger inside you again, not nearly enough to satisfy your needs, now mocking you for how desperate you were for him, “You want it so bad, there is no reason to pretend you didn’t… I know you’re a dirty little girl…”

“Santino…” you groaned, your eyes rolling back involuntarily as you sucked in a breath, your hips wiggling back to meet his lack of touch. His words had you trembling, so ready to let go when he wanted you to and you were so close, your clit throbbing relentlessly.

“What?” He groaned, almost annoyed that you’d disturbed his thought process, whatever was playing in that beautiful head of his.

“Please…” you persisted, pouty and pathetic.

“Please what?”

“Please spank me again.”

“You’re not supposed to enjoy the punishment, bella…” he drawled, his arms tense as he held your hips still. He considered his choices for a moment when you had no answer for him.

Then, without warning, he spanked you again, harder this time, once on each cheek and you yelped at the surprise. The sting made you feel filthy, his touch having completely disheveled you now and you knew you were a mess but didn’t care anymore. You reveled in the feeling for a while, the idea of his red hand-print marking you for the rest of the night driving you crazy.

“You’re gonna know exactly where I’ve been when I’m done with you” he declared quietly, as if he was reading your mind, “You won’t be able to focus all night, won’t even be able to sit without reminding yourself how bad you were.”

Santino pressed his lips to your neck for a moment, biting down on your skin so hard you worried he was going to break you. There was a lull when you wondered what he could possibly have in store for you, the pressure still throbbing between your legs and then he sent a short, stinging smack to your core and you were gone. You came undone completely, Santino only holding you out of fear you’d fall to the ground as your walls convulsed around nothing, the mere thought of him filling you enough to have your orgasm ripping through you. Your entire body shook and you were hot all over, groaning his name louder than either of you knew was possible, the sound vibrating off the walls.

The sting of your walls closing around nothing, desperate for him to fill you made you cry out with need, pushing your ass back against him but his hand was tight on your hip now, holding you in place, making you gasp when his fingers closed around your throat, your breath hitching in your throat.

His voice was calm, like honey dripping down your skin but there was something else coiling under the surface, an edge to it that had you shaking, “Did you just…” he swallowed hard, “Did you just cum without my permission?” His grip around your throat tightened, his fingers adding more pressure and you knew he wouldn’t let this one slide, “I wasn’t even touching your cunt and you came from just a slap of my hand…” he groaned, “You’re so fucking desperate for me, it’s embarrassing…”

“I’m sorry…” you almost sobbed as his words brought you down from the elation, your apologies now frequent and meaningless, anything to get more from him be it bad or good or both. He shook his head, undecided how he was going to punish you this time and then you heard his slender fingers toying with his belt, the buckle clanging as it came undone.

At first you were excited, wondered whether he was finally going to deliver his promise. But instead, Santino dangled the leather over his finger teasingly, his lips pulling into an uncontrollable smirk and you tried to process what he was thinking as he pushed you back over the table, your face rolling against the glass. And just then, the leather slapped your ass searingly, just once. You screamed, the material hurting much more than his hand had but there was so much pleasure too. You felt it everywhere, a burning prickly heat that you couldn’t get enough of. You loved the power he had over you and he did too, there was no denying it.

“You liked that too didn’t you, pupa?” He mumbled, bringing you back up, his hand around your neck tightly again. You whimpered, unable to give him a response as his fingers pressed against your throat lightly, his lips attaching themselves to the back of your neck, biting down on your skin. 

You had liked it, the way he dominated you, demonstrated his power over you had you dripping, even more desperate for him. 

“S-Santino…” you whimpered, submissively. 

“I asked you a question…”

“Yes” you groaned, at last, the deep scarlet blush washing over your face again, “I liked it.”

“Spread your legs for me bella” Santino commanded quickly, no doubt in his voice and you did, anything to please him. 

You sighed at the sight of your dress, bunched around your waist, your body exposed completely but he apparently loved it, grabbing a handful of your ass as you wiggled over the table, his eyes taking you in hungrily.

He’d been playing games up until now but Santino was only human and seeing you like this for him was too much to handle. He had to have you. You watched him fumble with his zip, something about the idea of him fucking you whilst fully dressed making you quiver in anticipation and drew his thick cock from the straining fabric of his underwear, palming himself a little, just watching you, licking his lips at the sight of your shiny arousal. 

“Right, bella, I will fuck you now, and I don’t want you cumming until I tell you to. Be a good girl for me, now.”

You nodded obediently, biting your lip his hand moved to guide your head upwards, forcing you to look back at yourself in the mirror.

“I want you to look at yourself … watch how your eyes roll back when my cock fills your cunt … watch what a needy girl you are … so hungry for my cock…”

You shuddered as he inched forwards, the head of his thick cock rubbing up against you in a way that made your knees fall apart even wider. With his free arm, he held you against him to keep you still and you both hissed as he entered you at last, the desire well and truly uncontrollable. Santino’s eyes clouded over with lust as your walls fluttered around him and you tried to keep your gaze as wide as you could when the inevitable eye roll came, obeying his instructions as best you could. He knew you, knew how you’d react to every movement, no inch of your body left unexplored. He shifted forward again, deeper, wanting more, your bottom lip trembling as he filled you to the hilt. You could feel him throbbing inside you, the tightness making him grab onto every inch of your skin he could find, fueled by how badly he needed to fuck you.

“C-cazzo, you’re so beautiful” he groaned, meeting your gaze in the mirror as he gathered a fistful of your hair, “So tight, so wet, so fucking… ahhhh… Look at that, bella…“ he drawled, “Look at yourself in the mirror while I’m fucking you…”

You whimpered, craving more of him instantly as he pulled back, then buried himself inside of you again, making your lurch forward on the table, your nipples hardening from the cold material of the mirror as your breasts were pressed against it and you gasped from the feeling of his cock brushing up tightly against your walls, the friction absolutely delicious.

You groaned loudly, the sound reverberating around the room as he thrust his hips into you and you tried to keep your mouth closed, embarrassed by your neediness, how much you were enjoying him filling you over and over. He shook a little as you tensed around him, barely able to contain how badly he’d needed this, his fingers curled into your hip and shoulder to keep you down, keep you still, your eyes only just able to watch at the angle he had you.

“You feel so fucking good, bella…” he groaned, the grip of his hands on you tightening as he drove into you, making you whimper desperately, writhing underneath him as you were completely at his mercy.

“S-Santino…”

“That’s right, say my name, pupa…” he muttered, his hand coming down on your ass without a warming, landing a few slaps before gripping your hip again, screwing you hard, your hips colliding repeatedly as he slowly drove you closer and closer to the edge.

His noisiness was turning you on to no end, his need to express everything he was feeling tonight only making the moment more desperate.

“Santino… Santino…” you groaned, the burning in your stomach beginning to tighten as he began to speed up again.

“Tell me what you’re needing, principessa…” he purred, panting between words, sweat pooling under his white shirt.

“I need to let go…” you mumbled, barely audible, the need to cum again consuming you. He gave a couple more thrusts with equal ferocity then slowed down, each thrust concise and teasing, drawn out so that he could keep you on the edge now that you were there again. His fingers found their way to your clit and you jolted at the surprise, the slow circular rubbing making every inch of your skin crawl, your body threatening to collapse under his touch. In the midst of his delightful torture he placed a couple of delicate kisses over your sweaty shoulders and exposed back, his appreciation for you endless.

His hard thrusts combined with the tenderness of this kisses, the lazy circles on your clit, it was slowly overwhelming you, threatening to send you over the edge right then and there but you knew that would only mean more teasing and you didn’t know how much more you could take. You were aching for your release, ready to do anything it took.

“S-Santino … b-baby, I’m so close…”

“Hold on, bella, hold on for me…” he muttered breathily, his chest rising and falling rapidly and you could feel his heartbeat, his fingers trembling, “I’m so close, bella, cazzo…” he groaned, his accent thick, his voice laced with lust as he thrust hard inside you, picking up the pace again.

You noted the way he’d flipped, no longer focused on teasing you, no punishment left in him but that now he was focused on getting himself there as he made you wait for him, a complex task but one he’d accomplished plenty of times.

“Are you ready, bella?” he groaned, breathless, “Ready to let go?”

“Yes…” you sighed, exhausted, your eyes locked with his in the mirror.

His hips jolted dramatically and he pressed hard and suddenly on your clit, the simple movement sending you over the edge. You felt as if you were falling, the feeling euphoric and your walls contracted around him continually as he came inside you, his moans obscene and relentless. 

He held you tightly, his arms wrapped around you as you calmed down, both panting, sweating, tangled up in each other. 

“Cazzo, bella…” Santino chuckled against your shoulder, “You’re so fucking incredible…”

You sighed, leaning back against him. “And you’re impossible” you giggled shakily, “Was the Marker worth it?” You picked it up from the table and opened it.

Santino pricked his finger on the small needle that was attached to it and pressed his thumb into the empty space right next to the imprint of yours. Then he caught his finger between his lips and sucked on it harshly.

“Of course it was, bella… we should do it again some time” he slid himself from you and you groaned loudly at the empty feeling, his release running down your thighs.

“Do you have plans for the night?”