#Dancing with Fantasy and Sci-Fi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ramp-it-up · 23 days ago

Text

Sweet Fantasy

Summary: You meet one of the "Big Three" at NY Fantasy Con. As Crewman Number Six, you should know how this will end. But you don't.

Word count: 5 K

Pairing: CATWS Bucky x Reader

A/N: This is a inspired by @avengers-assemble-bingo. #KinkyBingo. This fulfills the square: Praises. This is also part of @yenzys-lucky-charm Cranky, Grabby, Stabby, Oh My Challenge. Prompt: “Shut up and take your pants off.” This fic spiraled out of control and I-- well I needed a shower. And so do Bucky and Reader. If you haven't seen Galaxy Quest, well you really should. 😬 Please reblog, comment, and like!

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. All mistakes my own. Smut! Cosplay. Conventions, lots of LOTR and Galaxy Quest jokes, Grumpy Bucky in disguise, flirting, teasing, use of "old man," "Soldier" kink, a teeny tiny glimpse of subby Bucky if you squint (let me know if you see it), then he turns dominant and feral, praise kink, bulge kink, marathon man Bucky, intense sex, overstimulation, raw p in v, copious amounts of cum, possessive Bucky, begging. This is plot with porn at the end.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

You decided to go to New York Fantasy Con alone. New city, new start, and the perfect place to meet fellow nerds who shared your love for all things sci-fi and fantasy.

You weren’t looking for anything more than a fun day of geeking out, debating space battles, and admiring top-tier cosplay.

One moment, you were adjusting your belt as Crewman Number Six, your uniform pristine, your perpetually wary I-know-exactly-how-this-ends expression firmly in place, and the next, you were nearly toppling over a very solid, very well-dressed Gandalf.

——

The day was filled with the unexpected.

The con was the perfect place to disappear, everyone in costume, no one staring, no one whispering. He was just another guy in robes and a fake beard.

Who’d walked in feeling lighter than he had in months.

And then you barreled into his life. Literally.

His staff clattered to the floor as he reached out with lighting fast reflexes, strong hands gripping your arms to steady you.

“My apologies,” he said, fully in character, though amusement danced behind the accent.

“I should know better than to block the path of a brave and noble…” His sharp blue eyes flicked over your uniform. “…expendable crew member?”

Galaxy Quest. Classic. His favorite.

“I prefer unsung hero, but sure.”

Your quick wit made him grin, and then you laughed a warm and genuine laugh. Something about the sound made him feel warm inside.

From there, it was easy. You two clicked. Effortlessly.

Hours passed in a blur of banter, debates, and sly glances. You argued about the physics of warp drive, whispered snark about questionable cosplay choices, and shared his soft pretzel without hesitation,even if he definitely hadn’t offered it at first.

Gandalf, as it turned out, was oddly possessive of his snacks. But once you stole the first piece, he started handing them over willingly, eyes on you every time you took a bite.

He just couldn’t stop staring because you were stunning, and not just in the obvious way.

It was the way you moved,like you belonged there. Like you knew exactly who you were and weren’t afraid to take up space.

And in way your uniform hugged your body, tailored just right to fit every curve, walking the line between adorable and dangerously distracting.

He was stupidly attracted to you. Cosplay or not.

You in that uniform, beaming and fearless, practically walking through the con so unassuming yet confident?

Yeah, that was doing things to him.

He noticed the way your eyes flicked toward him when you thought he wasn’t looking. And also the way your smile deepened when you caught him watching. The way you leaned in a little closer every time he spoke was magnetic.

You were flirting. Hard.

And he liked it. Too much.

And that was the problem.

Because you didn’t know who he was.

You thought he was just some guy in a good Gandalf cosplay. You were flirting with that guy. Not Bucky Barnes.

Not the name, or the past, or the weight that came with it.

He should’ve kept his distance.

But he didn’t.

And on your side?

You had no idea what this man looked like.

Tall, yes.

Broad, clearly.

That voice, a warm tenor, and with a hint of rasp, was borderline unfair.

And those eyes. Icy blue, too intelligent to be just cosplay.

But still. Long grey beard. Hat. Layers of wizard robes. His entire being was a mystery.

And yet you were attracted to him. Nonsensically so.

When the crowd got thick, he let his hand find the small of your back and guided you through.

He could’ve let go when the aisle cleared, but he didn’t. Not right away. Not when you felt that warm and solid against him. Not when his brain was full of you and your goddamn perfect laugh.

The electricity was ridiculous.

And maybe you let yourself lean back into his touch just a little.

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. You flirted all the time, right? It didn’t mean anything.

Except you wanted it to mean something. The connection felt too easy. Too real. And that scared you more than the mystery.

Who was this guy?

You didn’t know his name, didn’t know what he looked like under the layers, and still… you were into him.

Really into him.

Which was why, when the con ended and you stepped out into the fading light of Manhattan, neither of you were ready for it to be over.

“Well, Gandalf,” you teased, “it’s been fun. Remember: Never Give Up, Never Surrender!”

He let out a sexy chuckle, but he hesitated, glancing toward the subway entrance, weighing something in his mind. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he spoke.

“You wanna grab dinner after this?”

You smiled up at him.

“But we had such a good time today. I don’t wanna mess it up.”

His lips curved upwards.

“There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”

You snorted.

“Smooth for a 2,000-year-old wizard.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully.

“Are you asking me out, Gandalf?”

He hesitated. That was the moment. He could’ve kept the beard on. Could’ve let you keep thinking he was just another guy with decent taste in pretzels and fantasy quotes. It was refreshing, getting to be just a guy, instead of a name, a history, a headline.

But if this was going anywhere, you deserved to know.

“I’m only 108,” he said dryly, then added. “And yeah. I think I know when I’m asking someone on a date.”

You choked on air.

“I’m sorry. What?”

He sighed, reaching up to hook his fingers into the fake beard. Slowly, he peeled it away, along with the expertly applied wrinkles.

Your eyes widened. Holy. Shit.

What remained wasn’t just some random guy in a killer cosplay.

It was Bucky Barnes.

Bucky saw the realization hit you. He braced himself, waiting for the change. The flicker of recognition and wariness, the oh, the backpedaling. It always happened.

“You probably figured it out before, but… yeah. When people recognize me, they, uh… sometimes change their minds. About me.”

For a long second, you just stared. Then, your lips curved.

“I didn’t know. And my mind is… not changed.”

You grinned, shaking your head.

“You’re alright, Barnes. I mean, I’ve spent all afternoon with you, and you’ve been kind, funny, and genuinely one of the best parts of today. That doesn’t just disappear because you’re also kind of a big deal.”

You looked around, lowering your voice.

“To be honest. I was in it for the beard.”

Bucky blinked, then laughed quietly. He looked surprised, like he didn’t expect you to still be standing there.

“Well, if that’s what did it, I could’ve just kept it on.”

You were still here. Still flirting.

Your eyes swept over him. The mystery was gone, but the pull remained.

Stronger now.

“Yeah,” you said. “But you’re not so bad without it.”

His gaze flicked to your mouth, then back to your eyes. He was still cautious, and still wondering if this was real.

But you weren’t pulling away.

“Well,” he murmured, voice lower now, “guess I better make sure our date’s as good as the con, huh?”

You bumped his shoulder.

“You better. No pressure, though.”

No pressure.

Except for the fact that for the first time in a long time he actually wanted this to go right.

And you kept thinking: Damn. I think I actually really like this guy.

—-

The restaurant was small and warm, just cozy enough to forget you were in the middle of Manhattan. Bucky picked a booth near the back, the kind of spot with a clear view of the door.

Classic.

You didn’t call him on it. Just leaned on your elbows and watched him over the rim of your drink. That fucking uniform of your was getting him hard.

“So you didn’t wanna be recognized,” you mused. “Cool.”

You sipped slowly, licking a drop from your lip with deliberate nonchalance. Bucky’s eyes dropped. And didn’t stop at your mouth. He snapped his gaze back up quickly however, jaw tight.

Oh yeah. He was so fucked. He wanted to fuck.

You tilted your head, smiling like you knew exactly what you were doing.

“But Gandalf isn't just any old man,” you said, voice light. “He’s wise, powerful...”

You traced a finger around your glass. His eyes followed the motion, slow and unblinking. Bucky clenched his jaw, visibly struggling.

“…respected. Worshipped, even.”

Bucky swallowed hard. His fingers flexed around his glass, then curled into a fist.

You leaned in.

“Bucky, you’ve been staring at me for the past twenty minutes.”

You tapped the side of your glass.

“Is this a wizard thing, or are you always like this?”

He cleared his throat again. He was always like this.

But you…were different.

“I…”

He cut himself off, jaw clenching. He knew that you knew that he was struggling, and what he was struggling with. And that made him even weaker for you.

You enjoyed making him squirm. And he liked it. Too much. Way too much.

Jesus, what were you doing to him?

Bucky huffed a weak laugh, shaking his head. His eyes flicked to your lips again and this time, he didn’t look away as fast.

“I didn’t mean to.” He paused.

You’re just so fucking hot.

You grinned. Wicked.

“And here I thought it was some kind of kink.”

Bucky choked on his drink.

Your smile turned gleeful as you sat up straighter, pressing forward just enough to make him very aware of what was beneath your uniform. He was staring. Again.

“Oh my God,” you lit up, delighted. “Was I right?”

He coughed, his ears pink, and glared at you over his glass.

He was so cute when he was flustered.

“No.”

You arched an eyebrow.

“You sure? You did say you’re an old man.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. Your grin only widened

You were having too much fun. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and dammit, he was the fucking mouse.

Then, just to test something, you dragged your fingers up and down the stem of your wine glass.

He shifted, breath hitching. And you knew.

Oh, you knew. You knew what was happening under that table. You imagined, correctly, that he was hard as a rock.

“Oh,” you whispered, delighted. “You like this.”

His metal fingers gripped the table edge.

“Doll,” he said, low and warning.

But that just made you smile.

“You’ve been looking at me all day like you want to do something,” you murmured, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

“So why are you holding back?”

Bucky rubbed his jaw. Discipline. Control. You could see him straining for it.

“Because I like you,” he admitted, voice gruff.

Oh.

Something in your chest tightened. Because that was real.

You stared at him for a beat, the energy arcing between you, but now it wasn’t just pure physical attraction.

“Bucky,” you said, voice softer now.

He lifted his gaze to you, blue eyes dark and hungry.

“I like that you’re holding back,” you said slowly.

“Because it means that when you don’t…”

You leaned in just a fraction.

“...it’s gonna be worth it.”

Bucky let out a breath like he’d been punched.

And then he smiled slowly,a new knowledge coming into his eyes now that he knew where your head was at. He stood, tossing a few bills on the table.

“We better get outta here, Doll.”

And you didn’t hesitate. You followed.

—-----

The night air should’ve cooled the heat simmering between you and Bucky, but it didn’t. Not even close.

The restaurant had been one thing, but now it was just the two of you, walking side by side down the New York street, the hum of the city around you.

Bucky hadn’t touched you, not once.

But you’d felt him all over you nonetheless. You felt him in the way his shoulder brushed yours when you walked too close. In the twitch of his fingers, like he was one second from grabbing your hand.

Or your waist.

Or your throat.

“Y’know,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to be so disciplined.”

Bucky laughed quietly.

“Doll.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

You peered up at him innocently.

“I really don’t.”

Bucky stopped walking.

You did too, turning to face him. He was really looking at you now, his jaw tight, eyes dark.

“You think I don’t wanna touch you?”

His voice had some longing in it.

“That I don’t wanna pin you against that wall right now and see how many ways I can make you say my name?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“But,” he continued, voice still measured, still controlled,

“I don’t wanna do this wrong.” His metal hand flexed. “Not with you.”

Something in your chest fluttered at that, a warmth different from the heat between your legs.

“You wouldn’t be,” you murmured.

He shook his head, staring down at the sidewalk.

“I want you too much, Doll.”

Then he looked back up at you, hitting you with those baby blues.

“And that’s dangerous for me.”

“Well,” you murmured, stepping closer, “maybe I like a little danger.”

His hand twitched. The struggle was written all over him. So you tipped the scale. You reached out and brushed your fingers over his metal wrist gently. Cool vibranium met warm skin.

Bucky inhaled sharply.

Then, slowly, his fingers curled around yours. Testing. Then gripping.

You bit your lip.

“Doll,” he warned.

You looked up at him, so alluring.

“Soldier.”

His breath caught. Then he stepped into you. Still not touching, but so close. The heat of him soaked through your skin.

You licked your lips, and Bucky’s gaze dropped.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Then he kissed you. Barely. Just a brush. Light enough to make you chase it.

The spark could’ve lit up Manhattan.

He pulled back an inch, staring into your eyes like he was trying to memorize you.

You could barely breathe. You wanted his hands. His mouth. His weight. You wanted him unleashed.

But Bucky was still trying to be good.

He lifted his flesh hand, skimming your jaw.

“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he rasped.

You tilted your chin, pressing into his palm.

“What if I don’t want you to be?”

His eyes turned molten blue.

And then,his phone buzzed.

He just stood there, breathing hard, before letting out a rough, frustrated laugh.

“Guess the universe wants me to behave.”

You smirked. “For now.”

Bucky met your gaze, lust flashing behind his eyes.

------

Somehow you made it to your place and the tension hadn’t lessened. It had evolved.

When you closed the front door behind you, Bucky snapped.

You turned to face him and he was there, pinning you to the door before you could even inhale. His metal arm slammed against the wood beside your head with a soft thud, and the other cradled your jaw, rough and tender all at once as his mouth crashed into yours.

No hesitation. No restraint. Just need.

You gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against yours, slow but demanding. He kissed like a man who’d been starved for years and finally got his first bite.

And God, you tasted so good.

When he pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, chest heaving.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me,” he rasped.

You smirked, breathless as your fingers found the hardness in his jeans.

“I have some idea.”

His eyes darkened.

“You think this is a game?”

His voice dropped, low and dangerous. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, slow and firm, pressing just enough to make your breath catch.

You looked up at him through your lashes, heart hammering.

“Is it not?”

“That’s it,” Bucky growled.

One second you were against the door, the next you were being lifted, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the wall, his mouth finding the column of your throat. He kissed, licked, and bit, not enough to leave marks, not yet, but enough to make you whimper.

“Still wanna play?” he murmured against your skin.

“Yes,” you breathed, because you were nothing if not committed.

Bucky’s mouth crashed back to yours and his hand found the underside of your thigh and squeezed. His metal hand skimmed your waist, the cold kiss of it against your hot skin making you gasp.

“You want me to lose control?” he asked, lips trailing down your jaw, across your collarbone. You moaned, arching into him.

“Yes, Soldier. Bedroom is over there,” you pointed weakly, then your hands returned to his shoulders.

Bucky grinned against you, cocky now.

“Good girl.”

He walked you to the bedroom, never breaking contact. You were clawing at his jacket, his shirt. You needed to feel skin, metal, him. You didn’t care about slow or gentle anymore. You just wanted him.

He dropped you onto the bed and stood over you for a beat, chest rising and falling like he’d run a marathon. His hair was a mess, lips kiss-bitten, eyes blazing.

You sat up slightly, supported on your elbows, and tilted your head.

“Well?”

Bucky reached for his shirt, peeled it off in one smooth motion, and let it drop to the floor.

You swallowed hard. Good lord. Scars. Muscle. Metal. History. He was so hot.

Bucky climbed onto the bed until he was hovering over you, mouth brushing your ear.

“You’re not ready for what I wanna do to you,” he whispered.

“Shut up and take your pants off,” you whispered back.

When he did, your eyes went wide.

"Is that Grabthar's Hammer?"

He laughed softly. Then he kissed you again. This time, there was no more teasing.

You were laid out naked beneath Bucky like something sacred, flushed and panting, the room thick with your scent.

Buckhy knelt between your legs, jaw tight, fists clenched like he was still holding himself back even now. His chest rose and fell, a man at war with his self-control. You shifted, your naked cunt calling to him and his eyes dropped instantly.

And then he broke.

Bucky dragged you closer like he’d been starving for this. He kissed your stomach slowly first, before biting just beneath your ribs, then moved lower. You gasped, your fingers threading into his hair.

“You still sure you want this?” he rasped against your skin, voice barely human.

You laughed breathlessly, tugging his face up so you could look him dead in the eye.

“If you don’t wreck me, old man, I’m gonna be pissed.”

That did it.

Bucky smirked, and then placed a kiss on your bare mound. Then, his mouth trailed lower, and gently kissed your clit as your eyes rolled and your nipples became even stiffer mountain peaks. Those ice blue eyes held yours captive as he flattened his tongue and licked a disrespectful stripe up the split of you.

When Bucky finally tasted you, he moaned. A low, guttural sound that made your toes curl.

And he didn’t stop. He devoured. He licked into you, fucking you with his tongue, and pulling on your clit like it was saltwater taffy.

His hands pinned your hips down, metal unforgiving, flesh impossibly warm, like he was trying to memorize the exact shape of you against his palms.

You were already close, embarrassingly close, because this wasn’t just sex; it was a seal to your connection. This was the shit.

Bucky touched you like you were precious and filthy. And he looked at you like he wanted to worship and destroy you in the same breath.

When he slipped two fingers inside you, metal, cold and smooth, your back arched and a broken moan escaped your lips. His mouth didn’t stop. His rhythm didn’t falter. He was focused, like this was a mission, and your pleasure was the only thing on the damn agenda.

“Bucky,” you gasped, hand clutching at his hair, “I’m—”

“I know, I can taste it. Smell it,” he said, voice gravel and heat between your thighs.

“Be good. Let me feel you come on my face.”

You did. Oh god you did.

You shattered, mouth open in a silent scream, thighs trembling around his head. Bucky didn’t stop, even as your body shook, even as it sounded like you’d forgotten how to breathe. He slowed, sure, but only just enough to guide you down from the edge.

He looked up, chin slick, eyes feral. Then he crawled up your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You okay?” he whispered, brushing your curls back from your damp forehead, voice suddenly soft again.

“I think I saw Sauron," you blinked up at him, dazed.

"What about you?"

He chuckled darkly.

"A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he cums precisely when he means to."

"I don't think that's the quote... oh fuccckkkk!"

Bucky moved with no warning, just a low, “Fuck, Doll,” before he lined himself up and slid in.

Your breath caught like a prayer.

He was big. Thick. Harder than steel and twice as punishing. He bottomed out slow, but deep, like he needed you to feel every inch of him.

And you could.

Your hands flew to his back, nails digging into muscle as he held still, forehead pressed to yours, breathing heavy.

“You okay?” he asked again, but his voice was strained now, like he wasn’t.

“Better than okay,” you breathed, clenching around him on purpose.

His control cracked.

He snapped his hips forward.

And that was it.

The end of the gentleman.

The death of restraint.

All that carefully held discipline gone, replaced with something primal.

Something desperate.

He fucked you.

Slow at first. Deep. Every stroke angled just right, like he’d mapped you out in his mind and memorized exactly what made you tremble.

Then faster. Harder. Hips slamming into yours, head buried in your neck, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

“Jesus,” Bucky growled, “You feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

You moaned something back, maybe his name, maybe nonsense, and he grinned, all teeth and hunger and male pride.

“Say it again.”

“Bucky…”

“No,” he rasped, grabbing your chin, making you look at him.

“Say what I am.”

You whimpered, broken and breathless.

“Soldier.”

His rhythm stuttered. And then he wrecked you. No finesse now. Just power.

Just pure, relentless, possessive need. Skin slapping, bed shaking, your name falling from his lips like a litany.

You clawed at his back. Bit his shoulder. He loved it. Ate it up. Drove deeper, harder, until your legs were numb and your voice was hoarse from screaming his name.

And when you came again, a fucking detonation, he followed you with a moan that sounded like it could crack the walls. You felt him pulse spray inside you, hot and endless, as he collapsed against you with a groan.

Silence. Except for breathing. His, ragged and heavy. Yours, shaky and stunned.

He didn’t move right away. Just kissed your shoulder. Your collarbone. The corner of your mouth.

“Still with me?” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, eyes glassy.

“I never want you be a gentleman again.”

Bucky laughed, low and pleased.

“You haven’t even seen me misbehave yet.”

You barely had time to breathe.

Bucky didn’t even pull out. Still buried to the hilt, somehow still hard and already rolling his hips again, slower this time, more deliberate. Testing.

Your overstimulated body jerked at the sensation, a whimper escaping your lips.

He grinned against your throat.

“Oh, look at that,” he murmured, voice dark silk. “Sensitive.”

You tried to answer, tried to say something, but then he drew back just enough to thrust again, deep and slow, and your brain short-circuited. Your back arched off the bed, hands scrambling for anything to anchor yourself.

Bucky just watched you hungrily. He was fascinated.

He held himself up on one arm, the other drifting slowly down your body, metal fingers grazing your throat, your chest, down to your belly, resting right where the head of his cock pushed up from the inside.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing just enough to make you feel it.

“You feel that, sweetheart?”

You nodded, dazed, lips parted.

He moved again. A slow grind, a deep roll. And the pressure made you gasp.

“God,” you breathed.

Bucky smirked, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Nah. Not God.”

He shifted his weight, grabbed your thigh, and flipped you without warning.

You let out a shocked cry as he pulled your hips up, chest pressed into the mattress, and entered you from behind in one smooth thrust that had you biting the pillow.

The new angle was devastating.

He set a punishing rhythm, hands gripping your hips. His hands, one warm and flesh, the other cold and unrelenting vibranium, held you in place like you were his to claim.

“You said no more gentleman,” he rasped, panting as he fucked into you harder.

“You sure you can handle that, Doll?”

You sobbed out something that sounded like yes.

He chuckled wickedly.

Then one hand slid up your spine, between your shoulder blades, curling into your hair to tug your head back just enough to hear him growl in your ear.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, ruined.”

You clenched around him, and he groaned, hips stuttering.

“Oh, you like that, huh?”

His teeth scraped your neck.

“Like it when I talk to you like this? Like you’re mine?”

You were beyond answering now, every nerve ending lit up, your body already climbing again. How was this possible?

As he fucked you through the aftermath of the last orgasm straight into the next.

Then you felt it.

His metal hand slipped between your legs, finding your clit with devastating precision.

“Gonna come for me again, sweetheart?” he whispered.

“Gonna soak my cock like a good girl?”

You screamed when you did, your entire body locking up, shaking under him, pulsing around him so hard that he nearly lost control.

He held on just long enough to groan your name, slamming into you one final time before coming with a shudder so intense it nearly brought him to his knees.

After, he collapsed beside you, dragging you back against his chest with an arm wrapped tight around your waist, breathing hot against your skin.

“Still don’t want me to be a gentleman?” he murmured, smug and breathless.

You couldn’t even speak, hadn’t even caught your breath.

You were still trembling, your thighs slick and shaking, your mind floating somewhere between pleasure-drunk and completely wrecked.

And Bucky?

Bucky hadn’t moved far. Still pressed against your back, one arm locked tight around your waist, chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades. But his hard cock was nudging against your inner thigh again.

You were realizing what the term supersoldier meant. You were wrecked but he wasn’t even tired.

“You’re insatiable,” you managed to rasp, voice half-muffled by the sheets.

He nuzzled into your neck, chuckling low.

“Says the one who begged for it.”

You turned your head, just enough to meet his eyes, and smirked.

“I didn’t beg.”

Bucky raised a brow. “No?”

Then he rolled his hips, sliding his cock between your thighs again without fully entering, just letting you feel the weight of him.

Heavy. Christ, his cock was so deliciously heavy.

Your breath caught.

“No,” you repeated, but this time it wasn’t convincing.

“Mmm,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

“I think you did beg. Might’ve even said please, if I remember right.”

“Lies,” you whispered, but the way you arched back into him gave you away.

And Bucky grinned.

“Alright then, Doll,” he breathed, shifting to grip your hips again, “if you’re not gonna beg…”

Then he slid inside again, slow and torturous into your abused hole.

“…guess I’ll just fuck it out of you.”

You moaned, your back arching, and Bucky didn’t even give you time to adjust. He just started moving, deep and slow at first, rolling his hips so that every stroke dragged perfectly against your walls.

You were oversensitive, your body already spent, but somehow this was worse.

Or better.

You couldn’t tell. You felt everything.

Bucky leaned over you, chest to your back again, the heat of him covering you completely. One hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he could mouth at your throat.

The other slipped under you and of course he found your clit again.

“Let’s see if I can make you beg now,” he murmured, thumb pressing just right.

You cried out.

“Still not beggin’, huh?” he rasped.

“Not even a little?”

You whimpered, thighs trembling.

“Baby,” he growled in your ear, “you’re fuckin’ soaked. I can feel you dripping down my balls. And you’re gonna lie to me?”

You tried. You tried to sass him. But then he hit that angle and rubbed just right and —

“Fuck! Please! Bucky!”

There it was.

He smiled against your skin, triumphant.

“There’s my good girl.”

Then he flipped you again, barely pulling out before he was slamming back in with enough force to shake the headboard. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails raked down his back, and Bucky groaned, burying his face against your neck.

His voice was ragged now.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, goddamn can’t get enough of you, can’t let you go…this is not just one night…”

You were gone. Spiraling. You didn’t even know what number this was anymore.

Orgasm or round, you’d lost count.

But Bucky knew.

He always knew.

“Come for me again,” he ordered, hand cupping the back of your neck as his hips pounded into yours.

“I want you to fall apart while I’m still inside you.”

And you did.

You shattered around him, one last scream torn from your throat, and that was what finally dragged Bucky over the edge. He came with a groan, deep and raw, spilling inside you as he gripped you like he never wanted to let go.

—-

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Time stopped meaning anything.

Eventually, you blinked up at him, hair askew cheeks flushed, throat hoarse.

“…You’re an evil wizard,” you croaked.

Bucky just smirked, brushing your hair back and blowing cool air on you. You closed your eyes and smiled at the tender gesture.

“You started it, crewman.”

You laughed weakly, burying your face in his chest.

“…Worth it.”

Bucky kissed the top of your head and held you closer.

“Damn right it was.”

——-

How’d you like it? 😇

#AAKinky #CrankyGrabbyStabby #bucky barnes #fatws #catws #bucky barnes ima #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan

238 notes · View notes

bluetooththereptile · 20 days ago

Text

The Crimson Snuff

(Yandere vampire family x female elf reader x yandere elven family)

(The video is not mine, original post, It's from the anime vampire hunter D bloodlust )

[Again, as I usually say in everything I write, English is not my first language, so if there is any mistakes made in creation of this text, I apologize]

Note: this text is inspired by this post.

Another note: for better imagination I recommend seeing costumes of the movie Le reign margot and the anime vampire hunter D blood lost for the general atmosphere of it, for more inspiration you can also look up Requiem chevalier vampire by Olivier ledriot. All of the characters belong to me, and if you'd like to read more of this universe, I'd love to provide. This is my take on some tropes of manhwas and if you are the type to love the obsessive family over long lost daughter or something like that, I'm tired of them lol. Enjoy this while listening to the harpsichord playing!

Another another note: it's sort of a sci-fi fantasy gothic setting

I was thinking of making this longer than other stuff I've made since it's oc and I'd like to ramble about details.

Tw: yandere tendencies, mentions of death, torture and injuries, emotional and physical abuse, racism (fantasy races).

@shenryu-sama

"Damn..." your phone fell from your hand and hit the mattress with a soft thud as you tried to process what you had just read "How can someone be so...cruel?" You mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled under your blanket. Holding your hand against your mouth, You felt your stomach churn as you tried not to recall the scene you had just read, but the image relayed in your mind over and over. You had read far worse things, but why this one stuck in your head and made you so sick, you didn't know. You looked at your phone's screen which was set to low brightness to not hurt your already throbbing eyes since your nightly habit was catching up with you, and watched the words dance under your unfocused gaze as you remembered the scene, your imaginative mind trying to create it for your mind's eye.

"As he strode about the sacred garden, the flowers that pulsated with the holy energy of the goddess perished in the vicinity of his dark Aura that lingered on his person, their withered petals turning to ashes with the soft gust of wind his floating cape made. The statue of the saintess of the household cracked with the sheer magnitude of his very presence, her open arms falling off of her marble-carved body onto the dead soil. No creature of the night had reached such power, not without feeding from the countless souls ripped off their mortal flesh by their sharp claws, and yet...he seemed to have exceeded the qualifications of the dark ones, their heads bowed in respect to the depravity of their creation.

His smirk grew more sinister as he watched the massive mansion burn in the purple flames of his mages, the once blue-colored roofs now in flames, the top-tier wood turning to cursed coal that would never burn for anything holy, the screams of the inhabitants locked inside, in the air. He stood and watched, circling the small locked box between his fingers as he usually did, the smooth surface of the metallic box reminiscent of her soft skin, was a balm to his senses, well, at least the senses that were not numbed to the world outside, his hollow mind filled with nothing but carnage and...her.

"Ahh sweetling, not even he is burning as good as you did" his whisper was lost to the wind feeding the frenzied flames, and a soft scoff left his thinned lips "Even if he claimed to be the purest" he spat the word to the statue of the saintess that stared ahead, just as he. The familiar numb feeling in his mind reached downwards to his nonbeating heart, as his thumb gently pushed the button of the lock to make the box's lid open gently with a soft click, he didn't want to waste even a speck of the crimson powder inside "May I sweetling?" He asked in mock gentleness as he buried the tip of his claw into the powder "Bon appétit" he murmured with mockery, bringing the snuff to his nose and inhaling the finely grounded dust.

His eyes fluttered in ecstasy, the wide pupils moving upwards before rolling "Ahhh sweetling" he called once more for his lady, her pure ashes coming down to his nasal cavity, coating his mouth in her taste, her perfume mixed with the ashes filling his senses, the tip of his pointed ears warming, just like a blushing boy...well, as much as his corrupt body would. "Watch sweetling, watch as I avenge us" he gestured to the State raised to ashes "Watch as they burn just as you did my beloved, I made them pay, just as I did you"

You wanted to throw up, what kind of a sick man would literally cannibalize his wife through snuff?! You trashed about in frustration, this villain was something else! Sure most villains were sick and twisted, but this bastard was supposed to fucking love his wife! What was all of this?! Why did it bother you so much though? It seemed like the scene made your own flesh burn, ack! This cursed novel sucked!

"Aaaaah!" You muffled your frustrated scream in your pillow, trying to be silent in the dead of the night. With a weak stupid protagonist who was supposed to be a Mary Sue "saintness" and a dumb male lead who didn't know boundaries and was toxic to his teeth, you didn't know how on the website's loaded server the author would manage to make this story make sense, which it did not! Plus the art style sucked! Ugh! After a few chapters of bodies proportioned so badly that made any good artist cry, you had switched to the novel to find any redeeming qualities since some stories were better in novel form but nope! It was still horse dump.

You scrolled past the text to read the comments, your eyes moving from one to another, everyone agreed with you on that, the novel sucked, many had thought it was because of the translation but a few had said it was just the same in its original language, a few had said the world building and the villain were the best parts and yet the compliment wasn't that good given the genuine sickness of the villain's character, UGH! Well the villain was as obscure as a shadow, you hadn't seen him in his drawn form, and you thanked the universe for that, after reading that scene you didn't want to associate anything with him!

Puffing the stale air of the covers you had pulled over your head you finally let it slide down, inhaling fresh air. You reached out for the VR headset you had managed to sneak out of your cousin's place, which they didn't even care about one bit since they were busy with their new gadgets, and put it on, making watching something light-hearted and nice or playing animal crossing would help you relax your mind, but as you shifted to sit up with the headset on, your phone from your mattress on the floor and you cursed under your breath, reaching down blindly to find it.

Your fingers moved on the floor, searching around, you bit your lip to focus, reaching a little further down without going off the bed, your lazy self not wanting to leave its warmth, but then you knocked the glass of water on your nightstand and it fell on your head, you gasped from the shock of it all, freezing, not just because of the water but also from the sharp "zzt" sound coming from the headset oh shi-

The sound of bombs could be heard in the distance, the troops of goddess Mekt kept bombarding the fallen city of Balna, but you knew the cavalry troops were on their way, everyone knew, and that was why there was a sense of dreadful urgency in the air that was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. The scent of the burnt flesh was in the air, making you sick to the point you thought you'd throw up by the polished boots of your kin, knowing whose flesh it was made it far far worse.

"I...I can't..." your voice shook as you clutched the large rifle in your hands, your limbs shaking from the weight of the weapon loaded with silver bullets. Your gaze looked upwards, in the dim light of the night, the shadows of the torches painted the pale faces of the company mounted on their steeds, the animals agitated from the noises and the sense of impending doom of the darkness that came with the approaching cavalry, their neighs jolting you here and there, the blood on your dress clung to your corset and skin.

"Just as incompetent as your mother" The ancient elf gritted his teeth in frustration, his sharp pale gaze on your person, his pointed ears sharply pointed upwards in a sign of anger and irritation. "Do as you are told, woman!" He hissed, reaching forward to grasp your hair, pulling it so hard that you thought a chunk of the strands were ripped off "I said kill them! Have you gone deaf?!" He shook your upper body by your hair, your scalp burning "You are the only one who can kill them without their curse infecting you! Do it before it's too late!" He threw you back onto the ground, your face hitting the stoned ground, the warmth of blood dripping off of your bruised lip.

Your blurry eyes turned to the tall couple embracing each other a few feet away, the dark cape of the male draped over his mate, holding her head against his chest in an attempt to hide her from the danger of their inescapable death, his own eyes set upwards onto the stars, you'd think the silver-haired vampire was thinking of his home planet, he had so many times told you of his sweet memories from his lands, where he had flourished and thrived. Maybe in his own faith and hope, he thought his dark soul would join his ancestors in an eternal dance with the dark ones, maybe he thought this fate wasn't going to be the end of the love he shared with his beloved.

"I can't-" You didn't want to harm them, no, you could not, not when they had accepted you in with open arms, and not, especially when they grounded him- a pained gasp left you as pain coursed through your veins, the magic-infused staff of your father hitting your back over and over as the elven lord unleashed his frustration upon you, "I said pull.the.damned.trigger you incompetent pathetic excuse of an elf! Do it before I end them with you just out of spite of seeing you flayed!" He kept hitting you down, the voices of the couple before you muffled by the rushing blood into your ears...or maybe it was your own blood?

"Ardana!" A voice called, nearly beast-like, mixed with the frantic screams of the female vampire "Let me go! Let me go to her Eckhart! My child!", the beastly growls and demands of you being left alone though soon silenced the female one "Let her go! Let her go you filthy elves!" your haunched form didn't have to turn to see the caged vampire to know from where it was coming from, bound with silver cuffs, his flesh burning by the blessed alloy, his mind a frenzy both from the pain and the weight of his mate being beaten down in refusal of killing his parents.

You refused to do as you were told, your limbs crawling to hold onto the leg of the elven lord, your blood-covered limbs clutching onto the silky fabric of his robes, your will long fused with titanium. You knew the death of the dukedom's lady and lord would mean chaos, you had many times rethought your actions over and over, dreadful of the destiny carved out for you, but the staff's attack on your body were turning unbearable, your muscles giving in onto the beatings as your father let go of his long-held fury, making you his punchbag. You needed to buy time and it'd be over! Just a few more seconds and the cavalry would be here, just a few more...seconds...and your fate...and his...would change...

"ARDANA!"

The gravity of the ground pulled your unconscious body down, your soul long gone into the realm of dreams that you couldn't feel the pain of the impact "My sweetling! No! NO!" The desperate roars of the bound vampire were soon mixed in with the sound of the hooves of the mechanic steeds, your father's horrified gaze not leaving your bloodied form as he was pulled away by his men, his lips calling for your mother, his hands shaking with remorse and guilt.

It'd be worth it...right?

Cuteness Aggression is real, you had realized it early on when you were swallowing the fluffy head of the feline creature on your lap as you kissed her over and over, her fur getting into your nostrils but you could careless when you were squeezing her gently, and the cat actually enjoyed it! Trifine she was, a good-sized feline with sharp baby blue eyes and white fluffy hair, her meows soft and girly-like, her presence always glued to your side, she was a gift upon your coming of age ceremony, and the magic-infused animal was with you ever since. Her ears twitched as a butterfly sat on it's head, looking like an airplane with a look saying "Really now?" You giggled, scratching it's chin to which she swooned into, making the blue insect fly away into the gardens below.

"Mæa?" The cat looked up in confusion as you stopped kissing her head for the 45th time that hour, looking at your wide saucer eyes, those globes wanting your attention all the time, but the maids were busy braiding your hair and needed your head to be steady. You petted her head with an apologetic "It'll be done soon" your voice coming in a rather breathy feminine voice, which you had yet to get used to, yet still it felt odd using it. Trifine purred in contentment as she made biscuits on your thighs, letting the stress of waking up too early out, uncaring to the bustle of the maids in the room as they did your daily routine of getting ready, her pink bean toes leaving marks on the fabric of the towel draped over your lap.

Your gaze went to the reflection of your face in a small round mirror held up by a maid as she smiled at you, her bright eyes round and lovely "What do you say, your ladyship? Is the new hairstyle to your liking?" The round face of the dark-skinned elf stared at you through the reflection, framed by the clay flowers around the mirror, when Aradana had to respond, you did "Aye, it is quite lovely" Your long pointed ears twitched in delight as your shapely fingers touched your cheeks. It'd be embarrassing if you were to realize how expressive your ears were, letting on for your any emotion, that was why many ladies wore lace hats that restricted the movement of their ears and held them in place to hide their true emotions, just as they did by hiding their faces behind their fans.

The maids smiled at your satisfaction, they had trained hard to learn how to handle the unique hair texture of of the sun elves, which was rare in these grounds, but they were learning, and your mother was pleased. One maid powdered the golden-colored braids to ensure their health, the powder laced with a sweet calming perfume that filled the aura about you, giving your person an even more pleasing presence and soothing the spirit of anyone about and you. They dabbed your scalp with purified pomade to trap moisture, it's cool texture making your scalp tingle, and you couldn't help but shudder at its effects.

Who knew being pampered felt so good, even if the body you were in was a complete stranger to you a few weeks ago. That electric shock the headset had put you through had sent your consciousness out of your body, and somehow, in some way, by the will of a sick deity or something, you had ended up in another world. At least the VIP care you got was nice. Baths and showers every time you wanted, the best beautiful flowing gowns that puffed around your shoulders, the glistening pearls and jewels in drawers upon drawers of jewelry cases. Yeah, being a noblewoman was nice, it felt like playing Barbie in real life, and by some miracle, which you had learned was the magic of the items you used, you didn't tire of it.

The voices of the maids echoed in the vast chambers, the soft hums and even occasional singings giving a background noise to the opulent residence. They diligently polished the floors and dusted every nook and crony, the skirts of their uniform dresses tucked under their belts, their bare legs in full view, low-heeled shoes petter pattering about, their short ears hidden under their clean and purely white bonnets. Where humans used skin color for segregation, elves were ranked by their ear size, which about yours...they were...something. as long as the palm of your hands they were. The soft appendages were delicate and took extreme care to maintain, just like the ancient Chinese tradition of growing your nails long as a sign of nobility, highborn elves of every branch that were created by Mekt had longer and more expressive ears. The priests said Mekt adored pointed ears, which favored the nobles, but you knew it was all bullshit to secure power, elves and humans weren't much different in the grand scheme of things.

Your perfectly filed fingers ram through the soft fur of Trifine, the fluffy gal purring a storm, gently batting imaginary flies around her. The maids cooed as they pampered the feline as well, offering it snacks and brushing her long tail that moved about as if it had a mind of its own. You sighed softly, giving Adarana, or you, to be honest, another look. You had screamed your head off when you had woken up to realize where the hell you were. The damned headset had sent you to a very dangerous place and from the looks of it, you had no way out of it.

Your eyes moved about to hide the tears of frustration, your cute button nose twitching a little in an attempt to scrunch up. Your chambers was something out of a commercial in size respectively, with a large marble-styled bathroom that ran on magic-infused boiled water, a toilette that had flowered patterned tiles that shimmered under the candlelight, a whole dedicated prayer room with everything needed there, especially with a statue of Mekt, which you covered with a cloth, given your trauma with the scene you had read about her and the villain. Two walk-in closets filled with every fashion item imaginable, an office that you got your lessons in and met your tutors at, and a boudoir which was reserved for close friends, to which you didn't have any, only your mother visited you there for tea, and you had counted, exactly three window seats and 12 windows of different shapes in total around the living quarters.

So you had truly ended up in that damned novel huh? It wasn't a dream, your countless attempts to wake up which some may had been too painful than others reminded you of that but how did you end up here in the world of "The silver-spooned saintness", you did not know, maybe it was another version of the "Truck-kun" messing with you or it was a punishment out of nowhere or the sheer hatred of the stupid author, you weren't sure. And the title, whatever the hell that translated title means, sure, silver spoon in Korean meant being born of wealth, but still...you now HATED the damned title.

Speaking of the saintess, you rolled your eyes so hard that the poor maids thought there was something wrong, to which you just waved your hand, ignoring their confused glances. The saintess was the protagonist, the oh-so-powerful, beautiful, all-knowing Yuviel Palewand, Adarana's sibling and now...your little sister. How?! Why?! Why she author? Why she?! Yuviel had the personality of a fluffy white bread and oh you'd be cursed, she was just aa white to the core. Sometimes you flinched at how translucent her skin was, the author's obsession with white skin, a tall skinny body, pink hair, and purple eyes made you want to find the author and shove some sense into them, not even Asians themselves were that "perfect", which was alright! Yuviel looked bad in the art style of her story, but in person, she seemed so sickly it was...disturbing.

Yuviel had the typical childcare story plot line, the daughter of a long lost lover sent to an orphanage found in the worst condition possible, doted upon by her father and siblings, it would be a really good plot for fluffy fillings on the pages, which it was. Palewand state was a very gorgeous one, with lush greenery and a mansion so massive it rivaled a palace, which it had to, Balthinal Palewand, your father, was one of the few viscounts in elven domain of the planet Leril after all. Your three younger brothers were just as typical as one could be given a story of as Yuviel's, things were perfect, but you were there, and as an imposter in the body of the young elf, you knew things weren't as simple.

"Your" father was a high elf of the branch of the moon elves, pale, tall with gray eyes, he literally could shimmer under the direct light, his excessive use of silk didn't help either. He had an arranged marriage with "your" mother, Eponia of Woella, a sun elf, to strengthen the bond of the states. She had a fair build, with a full body and lovely dark skin, and you, Ardana, had inherited most of her features but still shared the same pale silver eyes with your father. Your father had cheated on your mother and Yuviel was the fruit of it, and he had the audacity to not only bring her in but shower her with more love than he had shown Ardana, which had made your mother resentful.

Eponia was not a woman of pettiness, she was wise and a lady through and through but Mekt's enemies be damned, if one were to say something bad about you, she'd gauge their eyes out. That was why you liked Eponia more than others, she was genuine and loved Ardana fully. None of these details were mentioned in the novel, especially, the fact that YOU were ENGAGED, to the villain of the story, in an attempt from your father to save YUVIEL from the clutches of a bloodsucking beast, oh you nearly forgot, on top of being a misogynistic, pro classism, and an asshole that had favorites, he also was racist to the bone. He had thrown you under the bus to save his favorite. Obsessive fathers like him made you sick to the bone, especially knowing one of the reasons she was so liked by his was Yuviel's likeness to her late mother, which the older maids had said he was obsessed with as well...ew.

At least the sons of the family were rather normal, well as normal as spoiled nobles could be, none of them had an inch of a hard spine, aside from Irtar, who was a young teen in elven years by the time you had gotten there, if the story would proceed as it did in the novel, the talented elf would go through so much. Surprisingly Eponia seemed to like you more than she did her sons, Curufor, your eldest brother and the heir to the Palewand state, had told young Ardana it was because Eponia always wanted a daughter, that was why she had put up with Balthinal and gave birth to three sons only for the fourth babe to turn out as a female. Good thing you had Ardana's memories. That was how you had escaped the skeptical gaze of Mellion, the middle son, who seemed to stare right through your eyes and reach your soul, your mother always disliked how much that piercing gaze was reminiscent of Balthinal's, to add salt to the already festering wound of Eponia's resentment, none of her sons looked like her either, you could see why she was so attached to Abrana, in Leril no bride had the chance to take any maid or lady in waiting of her father's state to her new home. The Palewand family was well, at least "functional" to a degree, Abrana was always grateful that none of her siblings turned against their family as most elves did.

Racism was prevalent in Leril which was actually acceptable to any elf, not only on the green and lush planet of elves but also in the whole universe Abrana knew of. The elves from different planets shared the universal hatred of any races other than their own, thank Mekt they are not racist to their own- oh right...the ear size thing...Mekt had some explaining to do, but nah, according to the scripture of Mekt's church, she was the bride to Kytvan, the lord of all, and not many dared to question her ways, aside from the dark ones, who themselves had their own can of worms that was spilled everywhere. But again, given how humans and orcs acted, you didn't think other deities were good enough to criticize Mekt. At least she had managed her creation better than others. Other planets were a constant mess.

Especially on Sevonad's dead soil, where Necropolis, the city of sin and decay, had festered like a plague, oozing puss and sickness. You had once seen the map of the dark planet and its moons and by Mekt! Why half of Senovad's surface was covered in a hulking hive city?! Necropolis was like a living behemoth of a parasite of metal and wires, withering with energy and countless towers that pierced the atmosphere of the planet, it had slithered into it's never dying core and rooted at the shadowed side of the planet that was stuck in its orbit and didn't turn its northern side towards the sunlight, which had given the nocturnal side of Sevonad the perfect condition for the creatures of the night to thrive in, the other side was under constant sunlight, and was mostly a never-ending sahara, deprived of any shade, literal demons roaming it's grounds. What were the dark ones thinking when they created this massive rock in space?

The readers sort of liked the worldbuilding of the story, a mixture of fantasy races in a universe of gothic horror with futuristic technology and magic, but the author hadn't had given much of the details, not to the clarity you had seen. There were three habitable planets in the Zorak sector, aside from the planet of humans, which in itself was like a fantasy version of Earth, named Sabra, they had the same state of tech as the modern days, fused with magic and conflict, hardly reaching for the stars since vampires sabotaged their endeavors in an attempt to keep them trapped for their own harvesting, though victims of vampires colonization, even the orcs didn't like to touch them, why? Given that you yourself were human in spirit, you knew why.

There was Sevonad, the dark planet, Sabra, Leril, and the fourth and the most barbaric one, Adigog, a planet covered in the bile-like greenery that seemed sickly from the outside, home to orcs and other fantasy races that were too barbaric for the other planets, good thing they hadn't developed technology to the point of space travel, which you didn't think they were capable of, given the constant tribal wars they went through. Diegord, their god, was just as repulsive in nature in mythology and scripture as his creations were, always harassing Mekt. It was a solid world-building, and further from the planet sectors of Zorak were other sectors, which were not mentioned in the book or in the maps you had seen, it seemed they didn't want to interact with Zorakians, and the ships coming in and out of the three planets of the sector didn't venture out of its borders either.

Life in Palewand state wasn't that bad, Eponia watched over you, doted on you, babied you even...yeah sure...Life in Palewand state wasn't that bad, well aside from the constant stress of where the hell the story was going!

The silver-spooned saintess's story was of a struggling elf maiden that had taken sanctuary in the capital of Leril's monastery after a grueling war between vampires and elves, the typical saintess arch, and that included a very toxic elf prince, and the whole story was about them dealing with the villain of the story. Silvain Agarand and his pursuit of avenging the Palewand family by any means.

Leril had been long under the colonization of the vampires coming from Sevonad as well, vampires had reached their claws to every single planet in search of new resources, greedy and cruel, they had taken the Eastern hemisphere of the planet for themselves and with use of their superior technology and Mekt's absence, since the priests said she had gone to a millennia rest after fighting off Diegord in the heavens. They had occupied the land and had extended their influence and power on the dark elves of the east, making the Drows their minions and thralls. For centuries it was total chaos on the eastern side, with the frontiers of the states close to the east in constant war with the vampires, but in the end, the elves, given the absence of their deity and patron to fund their mana, gave in, and relented to their terms, aside from letting the vampires suck up the resources of the planet, every century, from a chosen state, by random, a young elf would marry into the realm of the vampires on Leril and your family was chosen this time. At first, Yuviel was put up as an option given her perfect nature, which was the author's way of adding coal to the fire of fangirling for her, oh perfect Yuviel! So perfect that she was chosen to be the oh-so-pure sacrificial bride...yeah, you wanted to rip your hair out in frustration. Your father had changed the candidate to you, earning your and Eponia's scorn. And who was your darling betrothed? Yes, it was HIM!

According to the story, the villain Silvain Agarand, the Duke to the Agarand state, which was a large continent on the northern part of the occupied lands, was a sadistic mad vampire that sought nothing but the demise of Yuviel Palewand and her family, and he does to an extent, killing everyone but her and her youngest brother Irtar Palewand, who somehow with the help of the male lead and Mekt's blessing would get rid of the villain. You hadn't read enough to know what was going to happen, the poor grammar and also the all-over-the-place plotline of the story had frustrated you, but you still remembered one thing.

Arbana had died in the original plotline. Yes, because she was married off to that sadistic Agarand and Mekt knew what he had done to her, and now that your father had pushed the engagement onto you instead of Yuviel, you were going insane from the stress, so much so that even Eponia noticed and tried to argue with your father, day and night to make him see the absurdity of it all. He had finally relented and agreed to annul the engagement if the Agarands were not to respect the elven tradition of meeting the bride in person before choosing her. Which was impossible, given the fact that no vampire could reach Palewand state without being weakened to the stage of a mere thrall because of the pulsating veins of Mekt's mana in the land.

You huffed in frustration as you paced around your room, your pet cat looking at you in confusion as you frantically mumbled "Why me? Why me? Why me?!" The reality was setting in and it was setting in HARD! Not even those damned good-smelling tea or delicious snacks could calm you down, why on Leril's soil you had to be the "tribute"?! The night's dinner no matter how many times your mother had insisted was a good meal had made you nauseated with its strange aroma, and it didn't help your anxiety at all. The soothing tea that your mother had sent to your chambers was sitting in the corner, long forgotten and had turned cold half an hour ago.

You were going to kiss little Trifine in your arms as she let out a soft 'mrrp' of concern, before you heard a soft "squeak" coming from the window, you furrowed your brows and looked down at Trifine, the purring cat tilting her head as well, as if sensing something wasn't right. Trifine didn't make such noises, sure she had made some weird noises here and there like soft meows that sounded like she was singing but not a squeak-"Squeak"

You turned around, searching for where the noise was coming from only to find a small FLUFFY batling on the window's railings, any thoughts of your misery were thrown out of your mind as you met its wide crimson eyes "Squeak" It made another noise as it realized you had noticed it, perking up, Oh Mekt!...why was it so cute?! You put Trifine down, the feline looking up quizzically, not understanding why she was put down, as you approached the window slowly to not scare the batling, but the fluffball seemed unfazed, sitting on its small stubby legs.

"Hello" you greeted it with a high-pitched voice out of your excitement, and the batling just puffed its fluffy chest and squeaked again, as if greeting you back. Its large flap-like ears perked up, the flat nose twitching a little. You clawed at your chest "Ack!" It was so unexpected, you hadn't seen any bats like it before and surely there was not a place for them in the state's grounds. You tilted your head closer, refusing to give in to the urge of petting the creature. You couldn't help but coo as it rubbed it's head with it's left wing, fluttering it's wings before looking up once more, as if it was preening for your attention.

The batling crawled closer, it's leathery wings shuddering a little, maybe because of the unfamiliar situation it was in? It seemed curious and eager, which was strange, even for elves animals were still apprehensive of them. You tried to reach out to pet the fluffy white creature when another voice startled both of you, another white batling came screeching as it attacked the first one, you gasped and tried to do something but you realized the attack wasn't harmful, it was as if the second bat was scolding the first one by slapping it with its wings over and over. Before you could do something the second batling literally threw the first one off of the railings and then flew off, leaving you flagbastered and little Trifine confused as hell, the poor thing was sitting there looking up, a look of "What just happened?!" On her face. Well, that was something.

You were puzzled, shaking your head to clear your mind, You turned around to pick up Trifine once more before the first batling poked it's head in again "Squeak!" You giggled at it's persistence but- "You look even more lovely in person-" "EEK!" You screamed in shock hearing a very deep masculine voice coming from the batling, and it was so loud it startled the creature and it fell once more as it let out a loud scream with a voice that wasn't befitting of the manly voice "Ahh!". After you had calmed down, you looked down the window to see if what you had seen was real or not but down on the white rose bushes below the window there was nothing, maybe the meal had messed up with your mind? Your mother had said it was a special herb inside, yeah, maybe it was the game of the mind, but why did poor Trifine keep frantically meowing around you? Maybe she was startled by your scream as well, how strange...

And even more strange was- "The engagement will proceed as planned" Yes, the engagement wasn't annulled as much as your mother had wanted it to. Why? You didn't know "But why?" You spoke, making others look your way "I haven't seen the heir of the Agarand state and he hasn't seen me! It's...it's..." You trailed off to find the right words "It's ridiculous!" Your mother shouted, coming to your aid, standing up from her seat, the plates on the breakfast table moving at her sudden movement, Eponia rarely lost her temper like this, but it was her baby she was defending. "It has been decided woman-" your father sighed "I do not care! They haven't followed the tradition-" "They have actually, sit down and listen" Balthinal sighed, rubbing his temper, why breakfast needed to be complicated like this?

"He has seen our daughter" he started, everyone's head snapped in your direction to which you gave them a confused look back "I haven't-" "It seems the heir and his chaperone had entered the Palewand state last night in disguise of-" your mind started to reel as your father explained, trying to remember the past few nights, wait-so the batling-NO WAY! That explained the crimson eyes and the deep voice! Those filthy vampires could shapeshift! "It's unacceptable! I was in my sleeping gown and he-he has breached my privacy and dignity!" You tried to argue, but your father was busy cutting down the bread in front of him "It is decided, and they will send a company with offerings before taking Ardana for the engagement ceremony at the border" The finality in his tone made you stop, fuming silently, as a daughter you couldn't argue with your father further, and your mother didn't seem any better, and the 'pure' Yuviel was being handfed by Mellion once again, oblivious to everything.

It took only less than a week for the ceremonial party to reach

Palewand state, that you refused to leave your room, but curiosity got the better of you after the arrival of the company was announced. You and Trifine watched from the window of your chambers, your eyes widened at the sheer amount of gifts and carriages they had sent. You held up Trifine who seemed curious as well, wanting her to be the judge of it all just as you were. "Meow," She said "Yeah...that's a lot of carriages" you agreed with Trifine, looking down at the five full carriages colored black with the symbol of the three-headed hydra plastered on their doors in a glistening purple color. Your doom seemed to approach you in extravagant robes.

"Are they courting the daughter of a king or something?" Your father huffed as you and your mother watched the vampire vassals wearing dark Bautas to hide their faces from the glaring sun and bring in the many caskets of gifts. Your mother slapped his arm with her fan, making him give back a glare "Your daughter doesn't have anything less than a princess" Eponia huffed, fanning herself. You wished you hadn't come down to the entrance hall to see the gifts pouring in, but Trifine was restless and so were you plus your mother had insisted, she spoke of the vassals' need to see you up close to know your worth or something, whatever it was, you didn't want to touch even a speck of dust coming down the gifts let alone use them, but soon they'd be part of the dowery you'd be taking with you.

The caskets and chests were opened, filled to the brim with dresses up to date in fashion in silk and other materials, pelts of legendary animals, jewelry of any kind, shoes of different heights, books of different subjects, large vials of glistening perfumes, even a golden harp. Alright...maybe they were doing too much- "Five hundred thousand gold?!" Your father spat in disbelief as the vassals silently opened the gold chest, revealing the golden bars branded by the symbol of Palewand state, basically a payment to the father of the bride for giving an "asset" away, how convenient. You kept petting Trifine, showing disinterest.

"Darling" Your mother called for you gaining your attention as she gestured to a vassal approaching with a dark red velvet cushion in his hands, a glistening golden ring upon it "This is your naming ring my dear" She spoke softly, holding your right hand, gently caressing the back of it with her thumb, if you were going to leave, she'd try to make it somehow tolerable for you in any way she could. "Naming ring?" You asked and she nodded, your gaze on the vassal's hand, the realization that every vampire of importance had numerous rings on them setting in. "By accepting the naming ring you accept the engagement, at the ceremony of engagement you will be given another ring, and then another at your wedding, three rings, symbolizing the three...dark ones... and the three hydras of the house Agarand" Your mother fanned herself even faster, trying to keep herself calm, it was like giving up her precious little girl to the slaughterhouse, but she couldn't say no.

The vassal knelt as he offered up the pillow, his face and emotions hidden by the mask, which any vampire you had ever seen wore to protect themselves from burns. You hesitantly reached out for the ring and picked it up looking at the glistening viper coiling around it "Who gives their betrothed a viper ring?" You scrunched up your nose in disgust, your mother chiding you in a murmur "Darling!" You knew your comment was rude but you had to let out your anger in some way. The horned viper was one of the three hydras of the house Agarand, but alas...it was rather heavy, and the ruby gems worked in its eyes glistened, reminding you of the eyes of the batling, oh that weasel Silvain-

You lowered your head and put it on your mother's shoulder for support as your father put the ring on your trembling hand, finalizing the betrothal process. "His lord and ladyship Agarand will be hosting the ceremony at the border by the Kalmas lake by the third full moon" the vassal spoke, bowing before backing away. Here it went, why couldn't you change the story of your doom like other characters in different stories you had read? Or it was just a hoax the author put in? Your will didn't matter, and the ring on your finger seemed very heavy, your blood freezing in your veins feeling it's magical grip around your heart.

The parting ceremony held by your parents a week later from the gifting was nothing short of a nightmare, everyone gave you either pitiful or disgusted glances, and women behind their fans whispered to themselves as you walked past them, their eyes narrowed in on your every action and Yuviel and your siblings weren't anywhere to be seen, probably coddling Yuviel or something, you didn't want to see them anyway. You felt like a sacrificial lamb paraded around, your mother refused to attend out of spite of your father, who tried to smile and failed miserably at every given minute, because he knew he was the one to blame, and the nobility for once were siding with his wife instead of him, because he was taking his child away to hand her to bloodsucking wolves.

You had wept the night before your parting, the company sent by your new family would leave before the break of day since the exchange spot was a day away, and vampires could not stand in direct sunlight. Your mother had wept her eyeliner off the whole time, Yuviel as well, though you didn't show any emotions, other than a soft hiccup when Trifine was taken from you, it was direct orders, no pets, servants, or belongings of the bride would be transferred with her, upon the engagement ceremony, which the bride had to attend alone, she'd be reborn as a lady of the night. Poor Trifine kept meowing as she looked at you, and you swore you could see her cry, your maids wept too, it was nothing like a happy parting, but you didn't blame them either.

Your mother kissed your face over and over, pulling the hood of your cape down to cover your face "Make sure to eat well alright my little mouse?" She caressed your face, not wanting to tear up again at your trembling lips. "Woman-" "Just shut up and let me say goodbye to my daughter!" Eponia snapped at her husband before she guided you into the carriage, putting a blanket on your lap as she fluffed it up for you, trying to hold back her tears "If anything happens..." She trailed off, there was no turning back now was it? She reached out and put a small vial in your hands "Dying with dignity is worth more" She whispered, and the realization dawned on you.

The carriage's door closed and enclosed you in it's darkness, leaving you alone to digest the reality that Eponia had given you the poison to kill yourself with, but the irony was, you didn't seem to dislike the idea either, after all, the war was away for less than a year, and your sealed fate wasn't that better either, maybe you'd do it to spite the dark ones and the Agarands.

In the carriage you were on your own, refusing to touch any of the gifts put there, glaring at the hidden portrait of your to be fiancé inside a velvet-covered box, you hadn't seen him yet, but his audacity and rudeness as well as his apparent character from the novel made you want to set the portrait on fire. Your head rested on the soft inner padding of the seat, rocking softly as you listened to the hooves of the mechanical horses touching the road, your family had sent nothing but the gifts the Agarands had sent for you with you, no dowery to your name, a literal nobody entering the maws of death.

You had fallen asleep from exhaustion and mental fatigue, the company reached the massive tents set beside the lake that shimmered under the moonlight before you could know it. You woke up by the knock on the door of your carriage and your heart started beating faster and faster with each knock after you had jolted out of your sleep, your breath quickening, what if he were to set you on fire here and there?! You didn't want to turn into snuff of a sick and twisted man!

The door of the carriage opened on its own letting the chilling breeze of the twilight time in, your nose burning from the cold. You finally managed to gather up your courage and leaned forward to see you were at the other side, meeting a full group of maids and ladies in waiting in dark purple clothing did courtesy upon seeing you "Your ladyship" one of them spoke with eloquence, gesturing with her gloved hand towards the tent behind them as her fingers fluttered. "Come forth" She beckoned, holding her other hand out for you. Taking her hand you left the carriage, her pink-colored eyes downcast in respect as she guided you toward the tent.

You entered the clothed walls of the tent, shuddering at the coldness of the atmosphere, the ladies in waiting gave you demure polite smiles ss the maids unfastened your clothing to have them removed. Your cape left you, their hands diligently unfastening the buttons of your dress. Too nervous to protest them practically undressing you in front of the eyes of each other you relented, listening to them whispering soft measurements and discussing the needed jewelry and powders, not looking up from their tasks. None of the Agarands had attended you yet, and it felt rather refreshing, you didn't want to meet any of those silverheads.

The cold hands of the dampier maids were covered with gloves, their silence rather comfortable, but you still missed your own girls, which you were sure missed you as well. The golden dress you wore was changed with the latest gown coming right from Sevonad, the ladies in waiting made sure to mention that, the purple gown sat right under the airy chemise, that your corset was tied up, apparently the Agarand's family color was purple, which showed their closeness to royalty. White stockings with soft garters were put on, the underwear soft as cotton on you.

A lady in waiting of yours offered her hand for you to take after your hat was fitted on your head and a fresh coating of powder was put on your head and shoulders "This way your ladyship" She guided you out of the tent, letting you step on the occupied soil, belonging to the frontlines that decades ago were covered in the bodies of both races, their deaths still heavy on the atmosphere. The lady guided you towards the largest tent, the guards, their faces hidden behind their helms saluting as you walked past them, your lace shoes dipping onto the fresh doed grass, your gait slightly limping at the heavy skirt of your new dress.

Upon your arrival at the main tent, a soft violin tone started playing, your head didn't move to find the one playing, it seemed like a piece of music to your funeral. You looked up to see the tent having a makeshift alter made of wood in the shape of the dark ones' church you had seen in pictures of your studies of Senovad, with a curtain cutting it's space in two, basically hiding the two betrothed from each other until the end of the ceremonial process. A subtle hint of incense was in the air and it's sweet hints could be felt on your tongue, maybe if you lived long enough you could ask the name of it from the maids. Your marvel at the scent in the air was cut short as your eyes landed on something or rather someone particular.

You gulped down the lump in your throat that seemed to gnaw at your windpipe, your breath shuddering at the hulking figure's back facing you, his board shoulders adorned with epaulettes glistening with a dark silver color, his cape reaching down onto the floor. Why was he so...HUGE?! How on Sevonad's dark soil they fed him? Or better to ask WHAT they fed him because from the width he seemed he could eat two men whole and still have some place left in his stomach for seconds. Now the scenes you had read about him were ringing more and more horrific, your legs shaking under the skirt of the gown. He didn't move his head, the pony-tailed silver hair of his perfectly still, but the subtle twitch of his pointed ear gave you the signal that he had realized you were there.

"My child" a smooth male voice called you out of your shock, and your attention snapped to the other tall figure behind the alter that had appeared out of the shadows, his face chiseled with the shade of the light of the torches around you set on his deathly pale skin. His crimson irises were deep set in hunter-shaped eyes, his arched brows tilted downwards, and his silver hair was combed back, pomade glistening on his tresses as a lovelock fell from the lace collar of his clothing. He seemed like a marble statue that had come to life by the will of the dark ones, wearing a dark doublet that was adorned with golden stripes, the deep cuffs of his clothes set in place with buttons that seemed made out of pearls, the hose upon his stockings weaved with precision. The emblem of the purple-colored hydra on his chest.

Within a blink of an eye, the tall silvered-haired vampire loomed over you, using his super-powered speed. Given the emblem and the way he had called you, he'd be none other than Eckhart Agarand himself, the Duke of the northern fronts, and the lord and master of the Amethyst Peak. Your soon-to-be father-in-law leaned forward to take your hand from the lady in waiting in his, the red gloves on his person thick to the touch. The large palm of the ancient being dwarfed yours, your hand looking like a child's in his, oh right, you had forgotten royal and pure blood vampires were twice the size of a normal one...nice. He petted your hand with his other hand, gently, as if to soothe you, a fatherly smile upon his glistening lips, you had heard vampire men used balms for their skin because of lack of moisture coming from their bodies, but seeing it up close was something else, from the close distance you could take the hints of roses of it.

"I apologize for this meager ceremony my dear" he started, the smooth voice rolling out of his bright white teeth like notes of a flute "But my beloved had insisted upon meeting you sooner and could not wait to prepare a better ceremony, she has promised for a grand wedding in return" he petted your hand once more, but oh your eyes was set on those two sharp fangs on his person, from that angle you were sure you were just like a pray to him. Thank Mekt the Agarands were one of the view nobles that adhered to the lifestyle of using artificial blood, which in the eyes of their kin made them seem like radicals that had lost their minds.

"Come" the duke guided you to the free spot at the left side of the curtain, and you tried your best to not look at the way your soon-to-he fiance was, holding your gaze forward. "It must be very cold, the dews are turning to crystals" he muttered to himself, waving his free hand to send a servant to fetch you a coat after the end of the ceremony, the telepathic order of his followed without question. The senior Agarand guided your hand to a small iron bowl set upon the alter, putting it there with your hand's palm up, he cleared his throat, and the hand of your betrothed reached out as well, your stomach dropping at the large clawed digits on his long-fingered hand, the limb already covered with different shapes of rings, just like his father's "Ah" the duke chuckled softly, taking your reaction, if wide eyes and your hand shaking as enthusiasm WHICH WAS NOT! Tell your son to not touch me! Ever! You wanted to yell at him.

As he started reciting prayers to the dark ones he picked up a small blade, holding it onto the flame of the candles upon the alter, it seemed the duke had sensed your apprehensive look and he gently spoke "Do not worry my child, it'll only cut a shallow wound" he tried to reassure you, which didn't help at all, but you were to frozen by the cold and the weight of your dress to move. The blade moved on your skin, the painless cut opening, your blood dripping off of your hand into the bowl into soft drops, the Duke cut his son's hand as well, though after a few small droplets his wound closed off on its own, his blood mixing with yours, after a few moments and a handful of drops the duke reached out, rubbing a healing balm on your skin to make the wound close, wiping the access blood away "You did well" he praised, your heart thudding a little at the gentle praise. Damn him and his well-shaved goatee.

After a few seconds, the duke picked up the bowl and poured the mixed blood into two different silver lines cups adorned with symbols of darkness. "Hear me thee dark ones, for tonight I hath gathered the blood of my offspring and a child of Mekt, bless their union with thine hands, tie their souls, for may they never part" he offered the cup on your side to you, his son reaching out for his. The duke seemed oddly attentive for some reason. "I know it might seem rather...unsanitary, but it is an ancient ritual, drink my child, it is for the sake of the engagement."

You looked at the liquid, your lips not wanting to part as you circled the blood inside it. You parted your lips to protest but suddenly a raven made a loud crow, startling you into dropping the cup and it fell upon the altar, coloring it red the lady in waiting gasped "Bad omen!" But she was silenced by the sharp glare of the duke. "Mayhaps the dark ones have willed the blood to be offered to them" he tried to lighten the mood. "We can redo the ceremony at the Peak if you'd want to my child." You just stared at the spot made on the white altar, the redness of it making your stomach churn.

"She can have as much as she likes" the same deep voice you had heard from that batling on that night spoke, and the curtain moved to reveal your now fiance "I can cut myself all over if she wants me to", and your eyes set upon his, the spitting image of his father, with a smile that seemed sweet for a man of his stature. Silvain Agarand...the villain, the sick man himself. But why was he looking at you like a bashful boy?

Waking up to the soft hum of engines, you tried to roll around in the small space of the medical sarcophagus, but you were restrained down by its confines, the sensors inside beeping in alarm. Thinking you had once again slept in you tried to reach out for your alarm "I'll get up" you mumbled sleepily to your non-existent phone, your voice muffled by the air mask on your face, trying to turn it off as you heard the alarms of the metallic casket encasing you in its padded interior, your hands clawing at the soft cushions that had held your wounded form as it had healed you for days on end.

You soon were jolted out of your sedated rest by the door of the sarcophagus nearly being ripped open "Darling! Oh, my sweetling!" Your eyes snapped open hearing the frantic sound of Silvain, your ears perking up and aching since you hadn't used them for days. Silvian was panting loudly, his teeth bare as his monstrous side fought to come out to posses it's mate his eyes wide, bloodshot red with his tears of blood. He quickly reached out for your hands, gripping them firmly but not harshly, his chapped lips kissing your fingers over and over as he thanked the dark ones for their blessings. He looked a mess, his stubble had grown and brunt against your palms as he grazed his face to them, wanting to feel your warmth on his ice-cold flesh.

"Oh my beloved" he sobbed, your dazed mind not nearly registering that you had been nearly regenerated whole by the cloning technology of the ship's medical wing, the physician and your appointed nurse carefully administrating tests on you, trying to see if you were fully conscious or not. "Bless be the dark ones, she's healed fully!" Doctor Halden whispered to himself as he checked for your cognitive presence, the brain waves without any problems. Silvain let out a gasp of relief as he resumed kissing your fingers, his breath shaking "Blessed be Holodor, lady of blood, blessed be Semias lord of flesh, blessed be the mother to the soul, Deidron, thank thee for thy kindness, I shall bathe thine alters in the blood of thine fallen enemies for decades to come" he kept mumbling prayers, his eyes closed.

Valeria was by your side within seconds, after she was notified of your waking. The vampiress tearing up at the sight of you in that condition, under the weight of many wires and tubes, holding her handkerchief close to her face to wipe the blood made tears staining her plain cheeks as she approached, her rose-colored dress fluttering. "Oh my sweet child, are you in pain?" She asked softly, so distressed you could swear she'd faint within seconds if you were to whimper. Eckhart joined his wife, holding her shoulders, and leaned towards the sarcophagus, his brows knitted in worry "You are nearly healed my child, there is no doubt you will be healthy as ever in the coming days" he reassured you, the paternal warmth in his voice evident as he swallowed down his distress, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I-I am just tired" you finally spoke, surprised at how sluggish your movements were, as if you were using them for the first time, which given your newly grown flesh it wasn't that far from the truth. You inhaled to speak once more, to reassure the worried family but Silvain gently put his finger on your lips to silence you "Shhhh, rest, I am here" he whispered, kissing the back of your hands in small pecks, his eyes closing as his nostrils flared, his will holding the dam of his tears from breaking once more, you were alive, and the medical sarcophagus had healed you to the point of health without you being in too much pain.

It took two weeks in the medical wing of the ship for you to recover, Silvain and his family's physicians guiding you through the physical therapy steps, the heir of the Agarand state holding you in place with his hands holding your waist tightly, his hands guiding you through every obstacle, he was there when you walked again, he was there when you spoke once more, he was there when you wrote your first word once again, he was there, and he cared, with all his being. Also, he ruined lots of tissues because your man kept crying every day like a cloud in the spring.

You were glad the war was over, the Agarands had frantically gathered their belongings before the elven army had reached their state, and your father had seized the moment to get rid of your in-laws so he could marry you off to someone more profitable. The original Abrana had chosen that fate and ended up dead, but you had refused and well, you were at least alive.

After your recovery you could spend time the way you enjoyed it, roaming the insides of the spaceship, the castle like structure of it was filled with luxuries, branded with the head of the three hydras, specifically commissioned by the dark emperor for the Agarand family after the war broke on Leril, Eckhart was the dark emperor's second removed grandchild and he adored the Duke. The six months stay in the ship as it traveled to Sevonad from Leril meaning you'd have enough time to see what kind of the place this marvel of technology and gothic design was. You had heard the dark emperor rarely gifted his relatives such things. It was massive, with wings of different uses, the buttresses magnificent magical gardens that withstood the darkness of vampires being, literal ballrooms, dining halls, music rooms, and a gallery. The cargo was full of decades worth of artificial blood and frozen foods, ready to use in the hands of the staff.

In your endeavors you found the duke and a few dampiers in front of the chambers that were supposed to be Silvain's and yours after your subsequent departure from the medical wing, the small crowd discussing things in hushed whispers, Eckhart tried to brush off the situation, gently ushering you to spend time with his wife and the twin boys in the eastern wing, but you insisted and he finally shared that toxic gasses had leaked in the quarters for a while, and Silvain was lucky that he had spent his time on your bedside, away from it all. Oh...OH?!

Oh...you had heard the name of that gas before in Irtar's chemistry books...it was harmless to humans, but it seemed it caused severe brain damage to vampires or other races, humans used it for chemical warfare against other races before being occupied by the vampires, and given how it had been rumored that the elves had occupied the shipyard for a few weeks before giving up the station to the cavalry sent by the dark emperor himself, could it be that they had laced the air supply of the ship? Vampires didn't need to breathe but they had supplied air vents for their staff which were mostly thralls and dampiers, some even had human victims as pets and companions and they needed air, some said the gas affected the mana and corrupted it, which directly imbalanced the chemicals of the body and mind, but given that it had leaked through Silvain and your chambers things were piecing together.

In the original story, from what you have gathered and matched with your own memories you wouldn't even be alive to reside there since the feral Silvain would drain you of your blood and after he had come to his senses he'd cremate your body and his parents in his guilt to keep your memories with him, then the lonely new master to the Amethyst Peak was definitely poisoned to his fangs, given his habit of wallowing in his grief and sadness when he was overwhelmed with guilt, and subsequently, the small doses of the nerve-wracking gas would slowly lead him to lose his mind. And in his twisted delirium Silvain had turned your ashes into a snuff to consume you piece by piece, in a sadly macabre way of holding you close, the revenge he had of your family was to see them pay for their neglect of your life and decision...oh poor Silvie.

Now everything was clicking into place! The dukedom's couple living had changed the whole plot and storyline! With his parents alive, he had guidance to help him with his emotions, and certainly, you had lived, even if the injury you had sustained by the hands of your father was nearly as fatal as what Silvain would give you if you hadn't had refused Balthinal's orders and had killed Valeria and Eckhart. The twin boys were too young to help their brother anyway.

But Mekt knew, from the snickers of the dark ones echoing through the heavens, that your new weaved fate, wasn't going to be as bright as you had hoped for.

"Hnngh!" You tried to suck in your breath as the maids behind you pulled on your corset to tighten up your waist, the lace pulling being such a difficult task that two maids tried to pull the strings, making the air push out of your lungs even more "I can't breath" you managed to say nearly choked from the pressure of the tightly weaved fabric against your middle, the chemise beneath it pressing tight to your flesh, it wasn't your fault you didn't have an hourglass figure! You whined uncontrollably, your ears drooping in a show of distress, which was answered with apologetic glances of the dampier maids, whispering with embarrassed smiles muttering how they only followed orders, oh it was so awkward, you wished your own maids could be here to take care of things, you could at least joke with them about the situation.

Speaking of a tense situation... you tried to ignore the small shivering ball of fur on the nightstand before you, who had shamefully buried his head under one of the powder puffs there, his small body practically buzzing from how fast he was shivering. The maids giggled to themselves as they walked about with different items in their hands, finding the situation so endearing. You had come to realize that your mental image of the dark vampire that would be the monster of your life was all made up by your mind, because in reality, the tough dangerous looking vampire villain you had made up in your mind and had read about, was nothing short of a shy nervous wreck of a man that in elven years was actually even younger than you. Oh and he had a very bad habit, he'd shapeshift upon being overwhelmed. And after thinking he had seen his bride in her wedding dress the poor lad had turned into a batling and was hiding behind the large powder puff, refusing to get out even if his butlers were looking for him to get him ready for the ceremony, thinking it'd be of bad luck for your upcoming marriage, Silvain had walked in, bringing you a box of macaroons before he had shapeshifted into a batling. You knew he had chosen that form to avoid being scolded by you or his mother, knowing he could use the cuteness of his form against you two as well. But still, the power of a mother was more.

He peaked out of the powder puff upon hearing his mother calling for him, the vampiress giving him a scolding look before practically throwing him outside the bridal chambers like a ball so he could get ready. Valeria Agarand she was, a lady and nothing short of her husband, both in height and status, with sharp, high-boned cheeks, thin lips, and fox-like eyes, her gaze sparkling with wit and wisdom. You had come to know her as a cunning vampiress who knew how to manipulate people, he had your fiancé and her husband in the palm of her hand, which could be seen as toxic, but alas, nothing in your life was short of literally venomous anyway.

Duchess Valeria smiled softly as she looked at you up and down as the maids put the first layer of your dress on, the gown sitting on top of the inner cotton skirt, the white fabric soon covered with another layer, the weight of the heavy lilac colored wedding dress you could hardly breath "Oof" you whined once more, earning Valeria's chuckle as she got the long array of jewelry you'd be putting on for the wedding "Bear with it my sweet child, I remember I nearly passed out upon my own wedding" She turned to you, the pins in her raven hair glistening under the lights.

"Oh how I wish my daughters were here to see the beauty of their new family member, but it'd take months for them to get here" She sighed, circling about to check if every item was up to her standards, oh right, a control freak, you had nearly forgotten that. Just great, a too friendly father-in-law and a mother-in-law that seemed like a fox in the form of a lady, this way their son was the least of your concerns at the moment.

The Agarands were a family of seven, two sets of twins, and Silvian was born out of the union of the duchess and the duke, and your fiancé was the eldest son of the family, Madge, and Benedicta, his twin sisters were older than him, already married to influential families back on Sevonad, you had heard Benedicta was married to the legendary general Rambrecht Werder, the conqueror of humans, Madge's husband was still a mystery to you, but he seemed even more important than Werder. Younger than Silvain were young twins Bernolt and Gerhart, who had just learned how to write and were busy wreaking havoc somewhere, always under heavy supervision of their army of nannies.

Your in-laws seemed to be busy in the bedroom, which was a very rare notion because one, vampires could rarely get pregnant, and five children already meant they were really busy with each other, something that others noted and teased the duke and his mate about often, earning their chuckles that sounded like money flying in the air, and two, vampires were rarely known for love between couples, but it seemed the Agarand's couple were passionate and their children had inherited it. Silvain was like a schoolboy in love.

The wedding ceremony surprisingly was a private one, in front of the immediate family members that could catch up, and a priest of the dark ones' monastery. It was set in the prayer room of the large castle you had moved into, fast and efficient, just as Valeria had insisted it to be, she knew the traditional wedding dress that was passed down through generations was taking a heavy toll on you, and right after silvain had put a kiss on your cheek the maids were taking you away to have you changed into a more airy chemise like dress, which Valeria was happy to see you in, calling it a fitting dress for a nymph such as you, which has made you blush. The rest of the night was spent on eating cake and getting to know everyone.

Life in the Amethyst Peak was strangely pleasant, especially after the second batling incident, you had realized Silvain was much more different than he was in the stories, your man was as heavy as a tank and just as large but he'd turn into a batling out of nervousness if he was in your presence, not that your love for cute things changed anything for the better. He'd either get squished in your hands as you held him, or end up covered in your lipstick as you kissed him, he had taken the role of Trifine for you, and you had seemed to adopt his batling persona as your pet and he had taken the habit of turning to the bat form of his when he saw you angry. Unlike many ironical protagonists of the novels you had read, you could see the signs, and hopefully, seeing how the Agarands were in private, you'd find a way to stop your fate from happening.

The peak had grounds covered in darkness fused fauna, which sounded scary only to the name because the flowers that only bloomed in the moonlight were as gorgeous as one can be, the ponds were covered in small mermaid-like nymphs that would sing and chirp, their eyes wide and unblinking. The castle was not even a dark shade of pink, but people called it so because of the marvelous Amethyst statue of a small snake in the middle of the garden that was a gift directly from the dark emperor himself, you shuddered every time you saw the serpent, as if the first vampire could see you through its eyes.

The family always considered your needs when planning their own events, they had hired a full chef team to cater to your palate, and made sure to have family dinner times from time to time, who knew drinking blood from different fancy glasses that warped and coiled was just as fun as eating a pudding that melted on your tongue? Silvain seemed to like it a little too much, his mother would always glare at his habit of suckling the blood out instead of holding the glass upside down. It was not manly she said, which the younger vampire would give sheepish glances at his parent in response, but he still kept doing it.

They made sure your chambers and the library you frequented were always warm, and Mekt knew how many coats and jackets Valeria had stuffed into your wardrobes because she had made sure you had a coat for every and any occasion. One time she had put on so many on you that you had to waddle about inside the cold Peak. They even let your mother visit, well at least her hologram would visit you through the portable antenna they had sent her, Life seemed to be smooth sailing, but no...Mekt had other plans for you.

The war between the elves and the vampires was inevitable, and so was your decision.

You'd soon come to realize that you had to choose, and this choice would change everything.

"You would like to see the new garden darling" Valeria spoke with a soft smile as she prepared the ribbon that was going to be on your hair, the cold hands of the dampier maids combing through your strands as they prepared them to be braided once more after a rigorous washing session with the finest oils Sevonad could offer. They had tried their best to treat your special hair type.

"It is of fashion these days, I've seen the grand duchesses wear ribbons to royal balls" She spoke softly as she showed you three different rolls of red colored ribbon in varying width "What do you think? Threaded out of the finest we could find" Her crimson gaze was gentle and motherly, as if trying to soothe a stressed child, which you were, and fussy, so to speak.

You had not left your quarters after the Agarands had entrusted you with their firstborn daughter Madge, who was now a consort to a Grand Duke, connected right to the imperial family. Madge swirled the blood in her glass, looking at it's narrow flute, her gaze upon the liquid as it swirled around, as cunning as she was just like her mother, she could not continue to pretend that things were normal, they in fact, were not.

Silvain had nearly gone feral after the incident that had happened back on your home planet, and now back in the birthplace of the first vampires, Sevonad, it had taken so long for him to calm his senses down, long after you had healed by the power and grace of the technology of the dark planet. He had improved, so to speak, mentally. Improved, as much as to save face in public, behind closed doors he'd change, like a guard dog only loyal to it's master he had grown bipolar, with anyone but his mother and you, he was like a beast ready to be provoked. He was a mother's boy but still...this was too much. He had changed, but the family made sure to not have you notice.

Too much so that he stopped mid-air from killing the elf that had snuck to meet you, your youngest sibling, Irtar, but he had refrained from doing so by your request, which was more like frantic pleading as you had put yourself between him and the male elf.

"What flowers have you chosen?" You finally asked, not wanting to let Valeria down, everyone knew how much...bitter...she could get if not appreciated, which happened very very rarely, but when it did, even Eckhart himself would turn to a hiding place. You didn't blame her though, she did everything she could to ensure her family's happiness, she sometimes just...popped.

Valeria perked up "Oh darling we were thinking of doing a huge row of sunflowers! The artificial sun ray of the garden can grow so warm and cozy that it can nourish them!" The duchess clasped her hands together, the lace of her gloves making a soft pat sound. "How...how about roses? White roses?" You asked softly "Oh my child we can have white roses as well! How about tulips too?" You nodded, making the ancient vampire let out a happy chirp as she walked about. You had sulked for too long and you were tired of confining yourself to your quarters.

Madge gave you a thankful look before she pretended to read the small prayer book in her hand, which was a common tradition for expecting mothers, after all, she needed every single one of the dark ones to bless her child as well. You had heard Valeria prayed for a full week without feeding on a single speck of blood, which given Silvain's powers, she was very successful since many pregnant vampires would go mad without feeding within a day.

Speaking of Mr.husband- he hadn't forgotten his habit of showing out of nowhere, so you let out a soft "eep" noise when he appeared, kneeling before you, holding a box in one hand as he caressed your stocking-covered leg with the other "How are you doing my sweetling?" You put your hand on your chest, taking in a deep breath "Silvain Linus meinheart Agarand!" He chuckled, tilted his head to the side as his ponytailed hair fell onto his shoulder, giving you his best puppy-eyed look "Yes?" He replied with the mischief of a young one in his voice, his sharp fangs showing themselves off "What is wrong with you?!"

"Ow" he pretended to be hurt when you slapped his head with a fan, but his insufferable grin wouldn't go away. Finally, he relented and as he put a kiss to the sole of your foot in his hand, feeling the white thin lace on his lips he looked up at you with an apologetic gaze "I know I know sweetling, I should always knock first" Holding up the box in his other hand. You were going to roll your eyes when you heard a soft meowl, your ears perked up at the sound and you beamed, for the first time, making your husband's breath hitch. "I uh..." he trailed off, not knowing how to speak for a second, holding up the box still.

You snatched the box from him, giggling uncontrollably as you opened it, to reveal a very round and fluffy calico kitten, lovingly collared "Saffie" The kitten let out a soft-pitched meow, it's pink mouth opening and closing before it tilted it's head, looking up at you. "Hello, honeybee!" You cooed and the kitten circled around in the box, giving you a twirl as the bell on its collar jingled in a proud parade of itself, as if already knowing how cute it was. "Meow" it called once more, making your heart melt even further.

Silvain watched you interact with the furry creature with a soft smile, his hand still caressing your foot in the palm of his hand, your happiness meant his, and he'd do anything to ensure it to happen. "It rhymes with taffy!" You held Saffie up, who had a face of "I'm already full of this bitch's shit". The atmosphere of the quarters lightened by your smiles and giggles, making the mood of others improve for the better.

You wanted to pretend to not remember how your husband had shoved your brother into a pod and had ordered him to be sent back to your home planet, how the young elf had shouted over and over for you to come back home, that everyone had realized what you were trying to do for them, but to be honest, you thought poor Irtar had gone insane from the toxins of the war, yeah, he must have gone insane, you'd better be happy with the quarantine you were in before the duchess would decide you were "healthy" enough to leave the mansion.

Silvain had promised you a fitting home, which was a very spacious mansion close to where his parents' was getting built, that was why he had entrusted you with his siblings, who as equal as the heir to the house of Agarand in enthusiastic way of caring for you.

Life now wasn't that bad if you were trying to be honest. Necropolis was a city of sin and madness, but it was for the poor and the zombies lurking beneath the guarded borders of the protected neighborhoods of the nobles. Life was funded, and you were being adored, but why...why that damned feeling in your gut was warning you, again?

Tags:

@bloghyperfixes

@fightmebissh

@chatt53

@bre99

@delias-stuff

@zebralover

@samimargo

@bookedgravity

@circles19

@blueeggcalzonepizza

@your-sleep-paralysis

@0-undead-0

@luc1dw0rld

@d3sperate-enuf

@simpingpandas

@starryperson

235 notes · View notes