#I'll be posting the next parts for the next few days. probably within a week! still editing some things.... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nerdallwritey · 2 months ago

Text

I Want to Live

Summary: He murmured something against your lips. You pushed lightly against his chest, laughing. “What?” “I want to live,” he repeated, seemingly out of breath. “Of course you want to live, you’re alive,” you smiled up at him, running a hand through his hair. “In all the ways that matter, I mean.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, clearly trying to be suggestive. He rolled his eyes. “No, you insufferable woman, I’m referring to something Shadowheart said.” OR Raphael asks you and Astarion for a favor, which leads to an important conversation.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 14.9k CW: Raphael is a thespian, vulnerable Astarion, Yurgir battle, mentions of killing oneself, Astarion's scars, confessions, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), breeding kink (DADSTARION IS IMPORTANT TO ME), smush (smutty mush) Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 8 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE AS I WROTE PART 8!!! I've become the busiest woman in the world - my job came to an end and I just started a new one, I'm in a play that my friend wrote this summer, I'm moving at the end of this month, and my power went out for nearly three days this week. BUT! WE FORGE AHEAD! I hope that you all enjoy this new addition and that it was worth the wait!! I was super excited to write this part and hope I was able to do it justice. Heads up: I am EXTREMELY busy for the next few months, so I'll probably take a mini hiatus from writing this series for a hot minute. I will be back, rest assured! I'm also interested in possibly starting a new series starring my Tav, Birdie! Anyways, I hope this part was worth the wait! It was a blast to write!! (Thank you to my beta @kermitwazowski, and the wonderful @arzen9 for reading!) As a reminder, last time, just as you were about to save Isobel from etheric's henchmen, Raphael whisked you and Astarion away for his own personal needs.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

With a white shock of pain, the cold of the Shadow Cursed Lands crept into your bones, rendering you frozen and disoriented.

What had just happened?

“Astarion?” you called out, remembering that he had been right beside you only a moment ago. “Where are you?”

“I’m here, darling,” you jumped when a pair of cold hands encircled your shoulders before they spun you to look into Astarion’s frantic eyes. He relaxed considerably once he saw your face. “I’m right here.”

You smiled slightly and turned your head a little to kiss one of the hands on your shoulder before looking around. “Any idea where we are?”

Upon scanning the area, it seemed that you and Astarion were in the middle of the Shadow Cursed Lands, high atop some sort of mountain. You saw what looked to be a heavily trodden path with stairs leading up to this place, surrounded by discarded weapons and pieces of armor. Not far off you spotted flags surrounding what you assumed was a makeshift graveyard.

Astarion’s eyes followed yours. “If I had to guess, it’s not the Blushing Mermaid.”

In the distance, you saw the roofs of buildings that must have made up the village Jaheira had mentioned. Looking to your left, you spotted the moon shield surrounding the Last Light Inn and witnessed tiny figures flying around the structure, along with blasts of magic from within the building through the windows. You ran towards it to get a better look, your stomach dropping when you realized how far you were from the battle you’d just been so rudely snatched away from.

“Where’s Raphael?” you growled.

Speaking of the devil, the cambion’s mortal form, which you hadn’t noticed standing at the grand entrance into some sort of temple in the side of the mountain, stepped forward, observing his nails. Behind him, chains hung from the sides of the cliffs and a large door loomed, destroyed, as if whatever had been inside had broken out with a great deal of force.

“Our heroes thought but a treasure ahead,” Raphael said dramatically, “did not consider the peace of the dead. Through the dark they went creeping, and awoke what was sleeping. A new grave they dug, which they themselves fed.”

Astarion clicked his tongue. “How long were you skulking there, practicing that rhyme before we saw you?”

“Until it was perfect,” Raphael said matter-of-factly. “I’ve grown quite fond of you, you know - in my way. I thought it only fair to warn you of the dangers ahead.”

“You brought us here!” you exclaimed. “We don’t even know where we are!”

“Patience,” Raphael chuckled. “There is a creature that lurks in silence and shadow - a creature who, like me, is of the infernal persuasion.”

You crossed your arms. “Is this creature as dramatic as you are?”

Raphael smirked, amused by your annoyance. “In truth, it is carnage incarnate. When you meet this devil of which I speak,” his tone became deathly serious, “kill it. Consider no other course of action.”

“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “There’s something you’re hiding. You’re only telling us half that story. Out with it, devil”

Raphael narrowed his eyes. “This creature and I go back a long way. I admit it would be in my best interest as well should it remain trapped in the dark.” He grinned viciously. “Or misplace its head, perhaps.”

“Lovely,” you muttered.

“I should not relish its reacquaintance,” Raphael continued. “Let’s leave it at that.” He turned to you with piqued interest. “You have it in you to author a thrilling finale, if…”

“If?” You took a sideways step towards Astarion who instinctively placed his hand on your lower back.

Raphael’s face took on a scowl. “If you heed this warning: Do not underestimate this opponent. At best you will have the blink of an eye to strike.”

You looked to Astarion who swept a soothing thumb back and forth along the base of your spine.

Raphael’s voice was dripping with venom when he spoke. “Strike first. Strike true. Defy the odds, for they are distinctly in its favor.” He took a breath to settle himself. “That much I owe the bastard orthon to concede.”

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “And I assume this is about that favor-?”

He laughed and regained his leading-actor-giving-a-monologue stance. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your tale, Astarion.”

“It would be surprising if you did,” Astarion said flatly, “considering I only told you about it an hour ago.”

Raphael laughed again, an uproarious, overly dramatic guffaw. “When the beast is dead, I’ll consider that payment enough to translate the scars on your back.”

Astarion nodded his head towards the devil. “A fairer deal than I expected.”

“You wound me, spawn,” Raphael said, not the least bit insulted. “I always deal fairly. And we’ll close this particular deal soon enough - vanquish the beast, and all will be revealed.”

“As great as that sounds,” you said in mock sincerity, “where do we find this beast of yours? You can’t just lead us into the middle of nowhere, give us a task, and expect us to follow through with no other direction! Our friends needed our help back there!” You thrust your arms to your right, over towards the moon shield protecting the inn.

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” Raphael assured, though it didn’t help you to feel better at all. “But you do raise a fair point. That little Sharran of yours will want to see this place. And I know a shortcut.” “What kind of-”

Before Astarion could finish his sentence, Raphael snapped his fingers again, causing everything to go black once more.

When you were met with the familiar white shock of pain from earlier, you realized Raphael had transported you somewhere new.

“That is not a pleasant feeling,” you said, wiping down your armor to rid yourself of any sulphuric residue.

“No it is not,” Astarion agreed, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair. “Where the devil are we now?”

“Nice one,” you smirked while looking around.

It seemed that now you were in a temple of some sort, completely made up of purple, gray, and gold marble - stone pillars and staircases and columns sprang up in well calculated spaces, and judging by the atmosphere and the view out into the temple, it appeared that you were now inside the mountain that Raphael had met you outside of. Purple light surrounded you from lit braziers that littered the corners, and multiple large doors gave off an eerie, unwelcoming aura.

“Sharran, for sure,” Astarion wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Look at all the bodies,” you said quietly, observing several skeletons scattered around the staircases. “Do you think they were the Dark Justiciars Jaheira mentioned?”

Astarion approached one and kicked its helmet, which let out a dull thud. “They seem pretty dead to me.”

“Hmm…” You looked around, searching for any sign of this devil Raphael had mentioned. “Do you really think Raphael will keep his word if we kill this orthon?”

Astarion stiffened. “I’d trust a devil over a vampire any day.”

“That doesn’t bode well for me,” you joked.

He chuckled. “I think he likes us.”

“Do you think he loves-”

“Don’t start,” Astarion snapped with minimal bite.

You laughed. “Unfortunately he can be pretty entertaining. But I’d never say that to his smarmy face.”

“He is rather smarmy, isn’t he?” Astarion smiled. “Perhaps if we kill this orthon extra bloody, he’ll invite us for tea and brandy back in his House.”

“An invitation I eagerly await,” you said in your snootiest voice and mimed holding a tea cup on a saucer.

Astarion mimicked your snootiness and the two of you “clinked” your imaginary cups together while laughing airily.

“Wait,” you paused in walking along the corridor, suddenly catching a glint of red on the floor.

Astarion halted at your side. “What?”

You pointed at the ground. “You tell me, vampire.”

The vampire in question pursed his lips. “I’ve said before that I’m not some bloodhound,” he argued. He took a deep inhale and sagged. “But yes, that is blood.”

“Any idea how fresh?”

He considered. “Not very fresh, but not completely stale either.”

“Well,” you said, wrapping your arm around his bicep, “where there is blood, there are monsters.”

Astarion humphed as you both walked forward, following the tiny speckled trail of blood towards a set of stairs. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Noooo,” you said, reassuringly nuzzling your head against his shoulder, “you’re too full of love to be a monster.”

Astarion shoved you away and you laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“We are going to talk,” you said firmly, but not unkindly. “I have things to say to you, too.”

Astarion hunched over dramatically. “Blech. Put me out of my misery first.”

“Not happening,” you said, approaching him again and lacing your fingers through his.

He tried to hide it, but you saw the flicked of a smile on his face.

A sudden flash of black at the bottom of the stairs caught your attention.

A displacer beast.

You and Astarion froze on the stairs, and for a moment, the three of you were locked in an intense stare down.

Then, she bolted down the hall to the left.

“Hey!” you shouted, detaching yourself from Astarion and jumping off of the stairs. “Come back!”

“Darling!” you heard Astarion shout behind you. “What are you doing?! Be careful!”

The pair of you rushed down another set of steps before following the beast into a chamber to your right.

“What the hells has been happening here?” you asked, pausing briefly in the doorway, then walking forward cautiously and observing multiple dead bodies and piles of gore.

Astarion exhaled heavily. “So much blood…” He looked up suddenly, his hands hovering over his knives. “Something’s wrong.”

“Here in the death room?” you teased, looking around for the displacer beast, but not seeing her. “You’re sharp.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh ha ha, very funny. Just be on your guard.”

A low growl caught your attention as the displacer beast appeared again on a shattered dais in front of you.

You strummed a low tune on your lute, casting Speak with Animals.

“Quiet, darling,” Astarion warned softly. “This could be a trap.”

“Hi there,” you whispered to the displacer beast, as if that would shield you from a trap. “Would you perhaps know where we could find-”

“What’s this?” A deep voice echoed through the chamber as a giant figure seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Fresh entertainment?”

The figure, who you assumed was the orthon, was massive. His head bore jagged, razor sharp horns, and his body was adorned with armor, some of which, you realized with horror, was made of bones. To make matters worse, he had a giant crossbow trained on you. You saw Astarion take a shocked step backwards out of the corner of your eye before he lowered himself into a ready stance.

“Oh, really good job getting his attention,” Astarion shot at you bitterly.

“But you’re too fresh for this place, aren’t you?” The orthon looked between you and Astarion, before his eyes rested on Astarion. “A dark-dweller, you may be, but there’s a definite whiff of the surface to you.”

Astarion said nothing and carefully sidestepped his way over to you, standing in front of you and attempting to shield you with his body.

“We could try talking?” you suggested to the vampire. “Maybe we can get out of this without a fight?”

“A new arrival then,” the orthon continued, clearly not perceiving you or Astarion to be any sort of threat. “You burrowed too deep, little rabbits.”

Astarion meanwhile, was still taking in your surroundings. He nudged you with his elbow and gestured for you to look up.

Figures in golden masks looked down at you, all aiming weapons and preparing to shoot if either of you made the wrong move.

You cleared your throat and looked back at the orthon. “Allow us to hop to it,” you said calmly. “We’re just here to talk. Put that thing down-”

“I don’t talk to prey!” The orthon roared. “I-” He paused and Astarion hovered his hands above his daggers again. “There’s something else, almost hidden by your fear-stink.”

You discretely tried to smell yourself, but Astarion leaned back to whisper, “You don’t actually stink, darling.”

“Right,” you responded quietly.

“Cherries,” the orthon sniffed, “musk… and sulphur.”

“Oh, that,” you said, trying to wipe Raphael’s stench off of your armor.

The orthon exhaled steam from his nostrils. “Raphael! I can smell him all over you! Where is he?! Spit it out! Now!”

Overhead, the masked figures loudly made it known that their weapons were loaded and pointing down at you and Astarion. The displacer beast snarled and paced impatiently upon the dais.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asked you through the side of his mouth. “The devil told us to kill this thing, so let’s stop chatting and kill it!”

The displacer beast growled and shouted to the orthon: “Master! They’ve been sent here by the perfumed swindler to kill you!” She leaped forward off the dais and began circling around you and Astarion, her teeth bared and her tails flicking impatiently.

“Did he, now,” the orthon chuckled. “Many have tried to fell the mighty Yurgir, but none have succeeded.”

“What?” Astarion asked frantically. “What did the beast say to him?”

You rolled your eyes. “She tattled on us, basically.”

Astarion pulled his daggers from their sheaths. “Wretched thing!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you said, stilling Astarion’s hands, and stepping in front of him so you were closer to Yurgir. “Mr. Yurgir, sir, perhaps we can help each other?”

The displacer beast snorted. “The pretty one has pulled out his meager weapons. It’s clear they are here with intent to harm.”

“Not true!” you said quickly, noting the confusion in Astarion’s expression at having not understood the beast. You strummed a quick Speak with Animals for him so you wouldn’t need to continue to translate.

Yurgir chuckled again, amused with your distressed display. “Bargaining, are you? A Kara-Tur warlord once tried the same - I made him watch as I ate his concubines and young, then fashioned a codpiece from his skull.”

“Charming,” Astarion rolled his eyes.

“Silence!” The displacer beast lunged at Astarion, who sidestepped her and prepared to attack her with his daggers.

“Don’t!” you pleaded, preparing to cast a spell with your lute. The air in the chamber tensed significantly.

“Nessa,” Yrugir addressed the displacer beast calmly. He nodded to her and she begrudgingly took a step back from Astarion, who straightened a little and kept an eye on both you and the beast.

Yurgir sighed, all the while, his crossbow was still trained on you and Astarion.

“You can’t help. It’s not just walls that keep me here. Not the traps, the dark creatures it hides. Something stronger holds me. A contract.”

Astarion clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. “Figures a meathead like you would get trapped in an agreement with a devil.”

A growl came from the back of Yurgir’s throat. “My patience grows thin with you,” he narrowed his eyes at Astarion who met his gaze unwaveringly. “One more snide comment and it’s lights out, pretty boy.”

Astarion chuckled. “He thinks I’m pretty.”

“Astarion,” you hissed. “Please behave.” You turned back towards Yurgir. “Can you tell me more about the contract?”

For whatever reason, perhaps intrigue, perhaps loneliness, Yurgir indulged your request.

“Either I fulfill the contract, die trying… or forfeit my freedom. If I leave this place now, I’ll become Raphael’s slave.”

You felt Astarion prickle behind you at the mention of slavery.

“Personally,” Astarion said angrily, “I’d prefer if you died trying.”

Without warning, he threw a knife in Yurgir’s direction, which the orthon dodged very easily. Yurgir looked up at his masked minions and nodded.

One by one, they jumped to the ground pointing their weapons at Astarion. Nessa pounced and pinned him to the bloodied marble floor beneath you.

“Wait!” you shouted as Nessa unhinged her jaw to snap in Astarion’s face. You cleared your throat. “Diabolic deals of legend always have loopholes! We just need to find it!”

Astarion struggled beneath Nessa. “Get off of me!” He pushed against her massive head, but she overpowered him with her paws on his shoulders and slashed across his face, causing him to yell out in pain.

Your whole body tensed. “Astarion, stop moving!”

“Listen to your mate,” Nessa growled.

“She’s not-”

“Oh please,” Nessa said, annoyed. “You two reek of each other. It’s as if you were attempting to make pups mere moments ago.”

Astarion scoffed but stopped struggling. You cast a quiet Healing Word and the wound on his cheek vanished.

Yurgir lowered his weapon. “Is he done being a pest?”

You laughed nervously. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” you murmured.

Yurgir lowered the weapon marginally, suddenly more comfortable, now that the problem child was pinned to the floor. “Raphael is no foolish story devil. His mind is different. Sneaky. Listen…”

The orthon closed his eyes, trying to remember the terms of his contract. Then, to your surprise, he started to sing.

“Spill all the blood sworn to the night. Silence all prayers; smother each rite.”

Raphael made Yurgir’s contract… a song?

“Wander Shar’s halls; hungry to slay; Leave no Justiciar alive to obey.”

Your fingers twitched on the neck of your lute, eager to accompany him, but not wanting to push your luck. At least now you knew what happened to the Justiciars. You didn’t plan on joining them any time soon.

“Leave none to hear it, then be set free; This song is your oath, swear, swear it to me.”

Yurgir finished his melancholy melody with an anguished sigh, clear that this contract had been his curse for far too long.

There was something about this song that differed from the ones you’d studied in the past… Something about the final couplet.

“So he’s the one who slaughtered the justiciars,” Astarion angled his head to look up at you.

You met his eye and saw his hand flick twitch at his side. One of his concealed daggers glinted in the dim light. Shaking your head minutely, Astarion smirked and pulled the dagger, plunging it into Nessa’s side. She shrieked in pain and staggered to the side, allowing Astarion to spring to his feet.

“What are you doing?!” Your eyes widened in fear.

Astarion gestured at Yurgir as the masked minions closed in on both of you. “Can we kill him now?” He lowered his voice, “Because if he doesn’t die, then Raphael won’t tell me a damn thing about my scars!”

“Would you-”

Suddenly, you felt a slash across your back as one of Yurgir’s minions grazed your torso with their axe. You gasped in pain, staggering forward into Astarion’s arms. He shouted your name, cradling you to his chest and bringing you to a kneel on the ground.

“I’m okay,” you winced. “He slashed me, but it’s not deep.”

Astarion searched your face to make sure you were telling the truth. When he was satisfied by your expression, he released you gently, then got up and approached Nessa. He pulled his dagger from her side and threw it into the gut of the minion who’d slashed you. He went down with a harsh thud.

“How dare you attack her!” he shouted. “If you have a problem with anyone, come after me!”

“Wonderful idea,” Yurgir hissed, before nodding to his minions.

In a blur of gold and black, the minions and Nessa jumped at Astarion, knocking him to the ground and making him disappear from your line of sight as they surrounded him and began taking hits.

“STOP!” you bellowed, running at them and banging one of the minions in the back of his metal head. He turned and swung his axe at you, just missing. Astarion shrieked from within the wall of enemies.

Yurgir’s face remained impassive as you turned to look at him.

“Tell them to stop!”

Yurgir laughed humorlessly. “You two were sent here to kill me. He seems dumb enough to try and follow through. He must die instead.”

Your fists clenched at your side in a mix of fear, frustration, and anger.

Astarion was acting reckless, and you had a feeling it had something to do with his accidental confession from earlier. So help you gods, you were going to give him a stern talking to once you got him out of this mess.

“Darling!” he yelled. “A little help!”

You heard his knife plunge into the side of a minion, who fell to the marble floor beside you.

Taking a deep breath, you stood your ground. You knew better than to attack Yurgir by yourself. And his minions greatly outnumbered you.

If only Raphael had poofed you here with your entire party.

“DARLING!” Astarion shrieked.

“OKAY!” you shouted back, searching your mind to find a solution.

If you attacked to help Astarion, chances were, you’d both be killed without a second thought and Yurgir would move on with his lonely existence. You almost felt bad for him. No, it would be better if you refrained from attacking and went about this from a different angle.

Perhaps distracting Yurgir from his loneliness was the way to go. You were rather gifted in the art of persuasion.

“The contract is a song! If you want, I could try and help you figure it out!” You strummed your lute for good measure, subtly sending a Healing Word Astarion’s way, along with some Bardic Inspiration.

Yurgir rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to make it pretty - I want to silence it.”

Astarion yelped in pain and shouted your name. You heard Nessa growl.

Yurgir trained his crossbow on you once more. “Enough prattle,” he said. “The lyrics are clear: all who hear the song must die. And now, you must die.”

The unmistakable sound of an axe connecting with flesh reached your ears and you heard Astarion cough and wheeze loudly. Your entire body tensed and you unconsciously reached for the scar on your torso.

“Wait!” you exclaimed, tossing your lute strap around so that it rested at your back and holding your hands in front of you to show you weren’t holding any weapons. “Raphael’s a sly lyricist - he tricked you!”

Yurgir raised an eyebrow.

“It’s true!” You turned and gestured to the masked minions gathered around Astarion. “Your followers heard your song and still live!”

Yurgir lowered his crossbow again. “The merregons? They barely have a thought to share among themselves…”

The merregons, as Yurgir called them, paused in their attacks on the prone vampire and turned to face the orthon, their vacant masked eyes staring at him blankly.

“But they do have ears…” Yurgir muttered.

You moved ever so slightly closer to Astarion, who lay bloodied on the ground, covering his face with his hands, his breaths ragged. Multiple daggers were plunged into the limbs of various merregons as well as in Nessa, who had paused her attacks as well to watch whatever was about to happen. You fell to your knees and laid your hands on Astarion’s wounds, channeling all your magic into Cure Wounds. You prayed to whatever gods were listening that this plan of yours would work.

Yurgir narrowed his eyes at his minions. “Kill yourselves,” he commanded. “Back to the hells with you.”

Without argument, the merregons turned to each other and swung their battle axes, striking fatal blows on one another. You slung your arms behind Astarion’s back, lifting him up and cradling him to your chest, using your body as a shield from flying viscera and debris. His eyes were wide with shock and pain, and you bumped his nose with yours to bring his focus to you. His eyes softened and you used the distraction of the merregon carnage to heal him some more.

“You’re okay,” you murmured, kissing just below his ear.

Astarion nodded slightly.

By now, it seemed that each golden minion was dead on the ground surrounding you both. Nessa watched the two of you closely, anger and confusion overtaking her senses.

“Can I put you back down?” you whispered to Astarion. “We’ve still got company.” You nodded your head towards the orthon and the displacer beast.

Again, Astarion nodded slightly, keeping himself seated upright as you rose to stand.

Yurgir clutched at his head, his eyes shut tight in frustration.

“I still hear it,” he groaned. “Seems your theory is wrong.”

With a flick of his head in Nessa’s direction, she pounced at Astarion again. This time however, Astarion was able to roll out of her way and stood beside you, brandishing a pair of daggers he pulled from the dead merregons.

“That’s because you’re not finished yet!” you said quickly, grabbing Astarion’s wrist to stop him from attacking Nessa.

You eyed the creature menacingly stalking around you and Astarion. The purple sheen of her coat was stained with red. Very likely caused by the blood of the man standing next to you.

The man you loved.

She had to die.

“The displacer can hear you, can’t she?” You squeezed Astarion’s wrist.

Yurgir looked at Nessa, and you saw the dots connecting in his head.

“Kill her,” you instructed.

The orthon’s eyes grew sad. “...Kill Nessa?”

Nessa herself straightened and looked at Yurgir with a mix of surprise and deep heartbreak. “Master…?”

Yurgir raised his crossbow. His words were soft: “Stay very still, my beauty.”

With that, he shot Nessa with a deadly arrow, piercing through her side and killing her instantly. You felt the warm spray of her blood splatter across your face and Astarion pulled you closer.

“Ugh!” Yurgir groaned, clutching at his head again. “I still hear it!”

With one final squeeze of Astarion’s wrist, you released him and took a step forward.

“Darling,” he reached out after you but you stopped him.

“I’ll be alright, my love.” You winked at him. “I promise.”

He dropped his hand to his side and nodded wordlessly.

You then drew yourself up into a confident posture, similar to how you would perform for crowds back in Baldur’s Gate.

“My dear hunter,” you said, “isn’t it obvious?”

A beat of silence passed before Yurgir answered you. “No?”

“Yes, no, darling,” Astarion whispered with a tinge of desperation and confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” you hissed at him before turning back to Yurgir. “You must kill yourself. Then you’ll be free.”

“Ohhh,” Astarion breathed, before projecting his voice for Yurgir to hear. “She’s right, you know. Raphael is a tricky bastard, this is exactly the kind of thing he’d never think you’d be able to parse from his insufferable lyrics.”

Yurgir growled. “ENOUGH! I’ve heard enough from you!” He pointed his crossbow at Astarion.

Astarion raised his eyebrows and held up his hands. “Right.”

Yurgir turned to you, his expression plainly showing that he was at war with himself and your words. He exhaled, steam releasing from his nostrils.

“If you’re wrong about this,” he snarled, “I’ll claw my way out of Avernus and eat you alive - contract be damned.”

“Trust me,” you said, “music and lyrics are kind of my thing. I believe this will solve your problem.”

Yurgir furrowed his eyebrows, once again considering your words, before he tossed his crossbow aside and pulled a gigantic greatsword off of his back.

“Nicely played, Raphael,” he said, knowing that Raphael was probably listening to this entire interaction from somewhere below. “Bastard.”

Without a moment of hesitation to talk himself out of it, Yurgir plunged the sword through his chest, grunting out in pain before the light drained from his eyes. He fell to his knees, then tipped forward, over the edge of the platform he’d been standing on, and landed with a gigantic thud in front of you and Astarion.

Dead.

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding and slumped forward, putting one hand on your knees, and another over your heart, willing your pulse to slow.

Astarion took a step forward to examine the orthon, not entirely convinced that the devil was well and truly dead.

When it seemed Yurgir wasn’t getting back up, Astarion spoke. “Does… Does that count as us killing him? That had better count.”

You laughed in disbelief at your accomplishment. “I don’t think it matters, so long as he’s dead.” You walked forward to stand at Astarion’s side. “And he seems to be dead. Aren’t you pleased?”

He was looking at you fondly, but you watched as Astarion put his mask back in place, a flicker of fear in his eyes. “The orthon is nothing,” he said pompously. I’ll have my satisfaction when Raphael makes good on his word.”

You rolled your eyes. Idiot.

“Repeat after me,” you said, wiping some wayward blood off his cheekbone, “‘Thank you for helping me, it was very kind.’”

“Hmm?” Astarion’s eyes widened. “Hrmm,” he whined and looked away. When he met your eye again, he sighed. “Thank you for helping me. It was very kind.”

You could tell the words pained him tremendously.

“You’re welcome,” you said cheerily before heading back out the way you came.

You heard Astarion hot on your heels, knowing he’d follow you.

“Darling, wait- ah!” He groaned out in pain and you immediately halted and turned to look at him.

He was doubled over and sank to his knees, clutching his side.

“Astarion!” you cried, rushing over to him and kneeling beside him. “What’s wrong? Did I miss a wound? Where are you hurt?”

He pulled his hand away from his side, revealing a tiny pool of blood in his palm.

“Blasted displacer beast must have nicked me when I wasn’t looking.” He smirked at you, clearly trying to disway your worry.

You furrowed your brow and summoned the strongest Cure Wounds you could muster. “Hold still,” you said gently.

The aqua healing magic that emitted from your fingertips created a soothing light that warmed both you and Astarion as it worked on fixing the wound.

“How did you know that would work?” Astarion asked quietly.

You looked up at his face and found him watching your hands. You smiled. “Which thing? My impressive healing magic? Or way with words?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “You know I was referring to the orthon.”

“I didn’t,” you shrugged, moving your hands to heal his side from a different angle. “Didn’t know talking would work, I mean. But I had to try something rather than let both of us die in this gross, decrepit temple to Shar.”

Astarion chuckled. “Don’t let Shadowheart hear you say that.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you said. “Speaking of Shadowheart, I hope she and the others are alright.”

The vampire thought about it for a moment. “They’re probably fine. And if they’re not, I’m sure you’ll figure out some way to save the day.”

“And you won’t lift a finger, right?”

“Not if I can help it.”

You laughed. “Come on,” you said, standing up and offering Astarion a hand, “we should set up camp for the night.”

“I’m sorry,” Astarion raised an eyebrow,”you want to stay down here?”

“Not especially,” you admitted, emerging through the doorway you’d followed Nessa through. “But unless you see Raphael or a waypoint, it’ll be a little hard to get back to the inn right now. And I spent all my magic just now saving your ass from some mindless monsters.”

“Ah,” Astarion said quietly, with less sarcasm than you’d expect. “Yes, you did do that, didn’t you?”

You paused and looked over at him. “Do you want to talk now?”

He laughed softly. “Give me a moment, it’s still fresh.”

You smiled. “Take your time, my love.”

Without speaking further, the two of you made your way through Shar’s temple, attempting to find a suitable place to rest for the night. Sure, you’d only awoken a few hours ago, but talking an orthon and his minions into killing themselves wasn’t exactly an easy task. You felt completely drained, especially after channeling all your magic into healing Astarion.

Upon finding a suitable place to unwind - a grand, abandoned hall with minimal leaks, dead bodies, and foul odors - you slung your backpack off your shoulders, grateful you’d thought to put it on this morning.

Astarion, who’d just finished surveying the room, bit his lip. “Let me help you with that,” he said, coming over to help you unpack your extra camping supplies.

“Thank you,” you said softly, watching as he pulled out a bedroll that the two of you would likely have to share tonight.

“Of course, love,” he said absently, before his eyes widened and he looked at you.

You gave him a gentle half smile and kissed his cheek.

After a few minutes, your little party of two had a modest fire going in a brazier that Astarion had dragged over to your makeshift camping area, along with a stew heating up, thanks to supplies Gale had lent you for occasions like this when he wasn’t around. You swept your hand over the bedroll, flattening lumps and rearranging pillows to make it as comfortable as possible on the hard marble floor.

Astarion watched you from a tiny set of stairs not too far off, balancing the tip of a blade on his finger. He, like you, had stripped off his bloody armor and was now lounging in only his plain clothes, which were stained with dried blood from where Nessa and the merregons had pierced through his armor.

“Enjoying the show?” you asked, very aware that you weren’t being sexy, and were merely fluffing a pillow.

Astarion didn’t respond and kept staring at you, unblinking.

“Hello?” you asked, snapping your fingers in his direction. “Anybody home?”

He started, as if coming out of a trance, causing his dagger to fall and slice his fingertip. “Bugger!” he exclaimed, shoving the digit into his mouth.

You clicked your tongue. “Come here,” you said, motioning for him to approach you.

He got up slowly, walking over to you and kneeling on the bedroll.

“Let me see,” you instructed, holding out your hand for him to show you the cut.

It was a tiny little thing, right at the tip of his right index finger. The bleeding had already ceased.

“Yikes,” you said dramatically. “Not sure you’ll survive this one.” You smiled and reached into your bag, opting for a bandage instead of attempting another healing spell.

Before wrapping the wound, however, you brought it to your mouth for a kiss, letting out an overly exaggerated “MWAH!” when your lips made contact.

“Better?” you asked, fastening the bandage in place.

Astarion nodded. “Much.”

“I have a fresh shirt, if you want,” you told him, pulling out one of his shirts that he’d let you keep from your backpack. “All that blood can’t be comfortable.”

“Speak for yourself,” Astarion joked, taking the shirt from your hands and lifting his soiled one over his head.

Though he was facing you, you couldn’t help thinking about the scars on his back.

“Listen,” you said as his head popped out of the collar of the fresh shirt, “even if Raphael doesn’t have the answers you want, I promise we’ll make Cazador pay for what he did to you.”

A wicked grin came over Astarion’s face. “Oh, I-” He stopped himself. You watched as he grew visibly shy. “Um… Darling, do you have a moment?” When you raised an eyebrow, indicating you were listening, he looked down at his hands. “I think we need to talk.”

You inhaled sharply.

Oh.

This was it.

The moment you’d been waiting for.

“I’d like that,” you brushed your fingers along his cheek.

His eyes grew wide and vulnerable, and he took your hand in his. “Look, I-”

“Do you know what happens when a devil is struck down on this… charming plane of existence?”

Both you and Astarion deflated.

“Perfect timing as always, Raphael.” You stood to face the devil and Astarion rose to join you.

“I’m nothing if not punctual,” Raphael smirked with a deep bow in your direction.

“Get on with it,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “We were in the middle of something.”

Raphael lifted his head. “My apologies to the flittering lovebirds.”

You sighed. “No, we don’t know what happens when a devil dies.”

The devil before you chuckled. “It returns to the hells - to the very point where it last stood before venturing to whichever devilforsaken plane it died on.”

“Your point?” Astarion asked impatiently.

Raphael looked between the two of you, observing the blood still speckled across Astarion’s face. “In the case of our friend Yurgir, he manifested in my House of Hope. He returned to me chastened but intact, his wounds healed, his body restored. He thought I would dismember him, but he has his uses so instead I am reeducating him.”

You groaned. “Come on, Raphael, we had a deal.”

Astarion placed his hands on his hips. “We delivered the devil. Now I want what I’m owed.”

Raphael exhaled an amused breath. “We did indeed have a deal. I discovered all there is to know about those scars of yours.” He chuckled unsettlingly. “It’s a rather grim tale, even for my tastes.”

Astarion stiffened beside you, and you sidestepped to be closer to him. You took his right hand in both of yours and held on tight.

“Stop stalling,” you said firmly. “Astarion deserves to know whatever it is you found out.”

Raphael watched your hands before his eyes found your face. “As you wish.” He then turned to Astarion, who was staring at him with carefully masked fear. “Brace yourself, Astarion - we’re about to unveil your destiny.”

You squeezed Astarion’s hand.

“Carved into that ivory skin of yours is one part of a contract between the archdevil Mephistopheles, and your former master, Cazador Szarr.”

Astarion’s eyebrows furrowed in disgust at the name.

Raphael continued. “In full, the contract states that Cazador will be granted the knowledge of an infernal ritual so vile, it has never been performed.”

Astarion sighed. “Sounds like Cazador.”

Raphael raised his voice. “It is called, ‘The Rite of Profane Ascension.’”

You narrowed your eyes. “And what does that entail?”

The devil once again took up his favored performing stance. “Oh, it promises to be a marvellous ceremony. Very elaborate, incredibly ancient, and entirely diabolical.”

Astarion hummed in displeasure.

Raphael smiled at him. “You’ll like this, little vampling. If he completes the rite, he will become a new kind of being - the Vampire Ascendant.”

Your vampire took a curious step forward, and you followed him, still gripping his hand. “Explain,” he said adamantly.

“All the strengths of his vampire form will be amplified,” Raphael clarified, “and alongside them, he will enjoy the luxuries of living.”

You couldn’t help letting out a tiny gasp. Astarion looked helplessly at you before turning his attention back to Raphael, who was still speaking.

“The arousals and appetites of man will return to him, and unlike Astarion, he will have no need of a parasite to protect him from the sun.”

“Incredible,” Astarion breathed.

You nodded. If there was a way to let Astarion walk in the sun forever, you wanted to hear more about it.

Raphael smirked, seeing how his delicious words had drawn both of you in.

“But,” he warned, “the ritual has its price, as all worthwhile things do.”

“What is it?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Raphael placed a hand on his hip. “Lord Cazador will need to sacrifice a number of souls, including all of his vampiric spawn, if he is to ascend.”

“No,” you murmured, your voice full of disbelief. You pulled yourself closer to Astarion.

“Imagine how he felt, then,” Raphael said, “when one of those precious spawn disappeared into thin air.”

This time, Astarion squeezed your hand.

“The only missing ingredient is Astarion.” Raphael smiled at him, devilishly, for lack of a better term.

Astarion scowled at the devil, but allowed him to continue.

“You are the final piece he requires to complete the ritual - your scars bind you to it. Your soul will set off a very wave of death, bringing Cazador his twisted life.”

“I won’t let that happen,” you said, more to yourself than either of the men currently in your presence.

Raphael smiled once more, taking on his performer’s stance one final time. “And that, my tragic and toothsome friend, is that.” He bowed deeply, before rising and giving you both a nasty look. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business elsewhere.”

Before you could ask any followup questions, Raphael snapped his fingers and disappeared in a cloud of foul smelling black smoke and embers.

Astarion stood still for a moment before turning to face you, his eyes focused on where your hands were joined.

“Hmm,” he hummed softly.

You blinked at him. “‘Hmm?’ That’s all you have to say?”

He met your eye. “I was… contemplating. There’s a lot to take in.” Astarion laid his free hand on top of one of yours.

“Hey,” you said, bringing one of your hands up to his cheek. “It’ll be alright.”

He looked incredibly sad. “What do you think I should do?”

You considered for a moment. The thought of Astarion being able to walk in the sun definitely had its appeal… but the cost was far too great and you doubted you’d be able to live with yourself if Astarion was somehow able to follow through and sacrifice innumerable souls for something that may have a cure elsewhere in Faerûn. It also sent a shiver down your spine to think of what Cazador might do with all that power. You were so immensely grateful that the mind flayers had kidnapped you and Astarion and dropped you into each other’s arms.

“We can’t let Cazador complete the ritual,” you said finally. “He could unleash terrible horrors.”

Astarion chuckled humorlessly. “The end of my life amongst them.” He exhaled slowly and nuzzled into your hand on his cheek. “Just when I was starting to enjoy it.” He took your palm and kissed it, before his eyes settled on some unseen object in the distance. “He’ll never leave me alone,” he continued. “I didn’t think he would when I was one more wretched toy for him to play with. But if I’m the key to this power he craves, he’ll hunt me to the ends of Faerûn.”

“What do you want to do?” you asked calmly, squeezing his hand once more.

He sighed, the slightest smile playing on his lips, his eyes incredibly soft as they bore into your own. Then his brow knit together. “I need to take the fight to him.” He stepped closer to you, brushing some hair behind your ear. “And I need you… to help me.”

“Of course I’ll help you,” you said almost immediately. You smiled, your voice taking on a half teasing, half serious tone: “We’ll hunt him down and kill him.”

You weren’t able to add anything else, because suddenly Astarion’s lips were crushed against yours, his hands tangled in your hair. You let out a surprised yelp before meeting his tempo with equal passion and desperation.

He murmured something against your lips.

You pushed lightly against his chest, laughing. “What?”

“I want to live,” he repeated, seemingly out of breath.

“Of course you want to live, you’re alive,” you smiled up at him, running a hand through his hair. “In all the ways that matter, I mean.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, clearly trying to be suggestive.

He rolled his eyes. “No, you insufferable woman, I’m referring to something Shadowheart said.”

You wracked your brain, trying to remember a time when Shadowheart had expressed wanting to live to either you or Astarion. Not that she was having trouble on that front. But nothing came to mind.

“When did she say that?”

Astarion led you over to the bedroll laid out next to the still burning brazier. He pulled you to sit down across from him.

“While you were dying,” he said softly, refusing to look at you. “Or, while you were sleeping, I suppose, since you’re still with us.”

“Okay, so while I was dying, Shadowheart was reflecting on how unlucky I was and how she wanted to continue living?”

Astarion flicked your nose.

“Ow!” you laughed, rubbing the appendage.

“This is it,” he said flatly. “I’m trying to have the conversation.”

Your eyes widened. “Okay,” you said, trying to reel in what you were sure was a stupid giddy grin on your face.

“Look,” he tried again, taking your hands in his. “I had a plan. A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me.”

“I don’t think this is accomplishing what you want it to,” you said, tilting your head questioningly.

“No, you’re right.” He looked up as if asking the gods for help. “I thought it would be easy. Instinctive. I thought that habits from two hundred years of charming people would kick in. And while they did work swimmingly,” his expression melted into one of easy seduction that made you laugh lightly, “you ended up charming me. Much to my dismay.”

“Aw shucks.”

He said your name, his tone laced with annoyance. “Honestly, darling. Could you withhold your snarky comments while I try and get this out?”

You mimed locking your mouth with a key.

Then you unlocked it.

“Sorry.”

And relocked it.

Astarion sighed and scooched forward, the tops of his knees making contact with your own. “You really aren’t making this easy for me.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly along the back of your hand, despite his complaints.

You shrunk back a little into your shoulders, smiling sheepishly at him.

He chuckled. “While you so graciously nearly died on all of us, Shadowheart decided it was a good time to talk to me about my, blech, feelings.”

“Brave.”

“Darling.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, it was then that Shadowheart told me that I was ready to see the world burn before I saw you get hurt. And she was right. If anything had happened to you that couldn’t be undone, I don’t think I could have come back from that.”

You smiled at him, feeling your insides go all mushy with adoration.

Astarion fidgeted with your hands in his. “She also said something I wasn’t expecting.”

He paused briefly, almost as if willing you to interrupt him again and distract him from what he felt so vulnerable saying.

“Go on,” was all you offered.

He exhaled.

“She told me that I was allowed to love you.”

You bit your lip and felt your eyes go misty.

Of course he was allowed! After two hundred years of torture and isolation, the man before you deserved nothing more than to feel love and be loved in return. The fact that he’d been holding himself back from his own happiness and comfort made your heart ache a little.

You allowed him to continue on his own.

“She said that heartbreak is a part of life. And while I’ve known far more heartbreak than any one person should ever experience in multiple lifetimes, she’s right.”

He looked at you earnestly in the eye, shyness playing at his features.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want to live.”

You squeezed his hands a little nervously, ignoring the way your palms were clammy against his cool ones.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you deserve to be loved. Just as you’ve shown love to me.”

He leaned in close, resting his forehead softly against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered. Then added, “You atrocious woman.”

You laughed, a tear running down your cheek. “I love you, too, you beautiful, wonderful, terrible man.”

You threw your arms around his neck and pinned him to the bedroll, nuzzling your face into his neck, taking in his scent and letting all of him wash over your senses. You didn’t want to forget a single moment of this.

“You do?” he asked softly, staring up at the ceiling above you blankly.

You sat up on your elbows and looked down at him. “What about anything I’ve said and done in the past few weeks has made you think that I wasn’t already head over heels in love with you?”

Astarion’s face broke out into a massively giddy grin. He held a hand to his forehead and laughed in disbelief. “I don’t know!” he exclaimed. “You get so used to being alone that it starts to feel like that’s all you’ll ever be. I scarcely thought I’d find a bard on a dilapidated beach foolish enough to want to know me and not run away screaming when she did.”

“There’s still time,” you teased.

“Ha ha,” he rolled his eyes affectionately.

Now it was your turn to rub your thumb along the back of his hand. “If I recall correctly, you just said I’ve shown love to you - If I made it that obvious, why are you still doubting how I feel?”

He sighed for what must have been the tenth time this evening. “It’s only that you could be with anyone at camp and you’re choosing to love me? The one who eats rats and bugs and kills people for pleasure?”

You kissed his cheek, down to the side of his mouth. “You’re also the silliest, sexiest, most remarkable man I’ve ever met. And I seem to remember saying the same thing to you back when we first slept together. That you could have anyone, but you’d chosen me. Why can’t I choose you in return?”

“Because you’re…” He searched for the words. “You’re incredible. And you deserve something real. What if I can’t give you that?”

You bent forward and kissed his mouth, hard. “Where’s my suave vampire? Who is this vulnerable mess in front of me right now?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “‘Vulnerable,’ sure. ‘Mess?’ Hardly.”

“There he is,” you smiled and kissed him again.

“I mean it though,” he said between kisses. “You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

“This is real,” you murmured. “I love you,” you kissed his jaw, “I love you,” you kissed his throat, “Astarion,” you pulled back to look at him with eyes full of devotion, “I’m in love with you. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

He seemed dazed, watching you with half lidded eyes. He smiled like a dope. “There’s still time,” he teased.

You laughed and kissed his mouth deeply. “You’re who I’ve dreamed of meeting since I was a little girl. Someone to see me, and laugh with me, and make me feel like I’m the only one for you.” You pushed a hand to his lips before he could make a sarcastic comment. “Yes, I know you’ve been with thousands of other people, but I haven’t. And yet, you’ve made me feel like I’m the only one who ever mattered to you.”

He smiled softly. “You are,” he confirmed. “I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. None that I can remember at least. But as far as I know, you’re the only one who’s ever cared for me and truly meant it. Yes, you make dumb comments at the most inopportune times, you’re loud and obnoxious, your bleeding heart gets this group into far more trouble than we ever would have without you-”

“Gee, thanks.”

“-and I love every bit of it. You make me laugh, you never make me feel small or worthless for the things that have happened to me or that I’ve had to do in my past, and,” he cleared his throat, deeply embarrassed to be admitting all of this, “you bring out the best in me.”

“Aw-”

“If you say ‘aw shucks,’ I will kill you.”

“You will not.”

“I will not.”

He kissed you instead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close. “I care about you. Deeply.”

He smirked at you. “Oh, really?”

“I swear,” you whispered in his ear, “you’ll never know a lonely day again. Not as long as I’m around. I adore you. I love you.”

Astarion’s breath hitched in his throat. “You… you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Get used to it,” you brushed your fingertips against the tip of his ear. “You’re never getting rid of me now.”

“Blast!” he chuckled. “And here I thought a grand love confession from a gorgeous vampire would send you running for the hills.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” you laughed.

He laughed again, a gentle exhale from his nose, and unwrapped your arms from his neck to hold your hands in his once again. He fidgeted with the ring on your pinky. “Honestly,” he said softly, “I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next.” He raised your hands to his mouth and kissed across your knuckles. “But I know that this,” he leaned his forehead into yours and kissed the tip of your nose, “this is nice.”

“You’re nice.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Actually, darling, you’ll find that I am not.”

You smiled. “Shhh, let me enjoy this brief delusion.”

“With pleasure,” he smirked and bent forward to kiss you deeply. He placed his arms around you and lowered you so that you landed gently on the bedroll beneath you and redirected his attention to nipping and sucking around the bruises on your neck from where he’d fed the night before.

You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his back, and rubbing your hands up and down his shirt soothingly.

“I love you,” you whispered, still enamored by the taste of the words on your tongue.

Astarion moaned and dragged his teeth up towards your ear. “Again.”

“I love you,” you whimpered as he bit your earlobe.

His hips gave an unconscious roll against yours and you felt him already becoming hard in his pants. You lifted your head to gain his attention and raised your eyebrows.

“Here?”

He shrugged. “We’ve done it in the dirt before, a Temple to the Goddess of Darkness is quite the step up.”

You looked around skeptically. “You don’t think she’s watching, do you?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, what’s so special about one temple dedicated to her here out of the thousands littering Faerûn.”

You bit your lip. “But this one is surrounded by shadows.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Please, I was surrounded by shadows for two hundred years and her eyes never fell upon me specifically.”

“Or so you think.”

“Darling.”

You smiled sheepishly. “You’re probably right.”

Astarion preened. “Of course I’m right. Now please, I’ve never made love to someone before.” He leaned forward to kiss you again but you pulled back with a laugh.

“‘Never?”

His lips were still puckered, prepared to kiss you, but he blew out a raspberry instead, blowing the curl that hung freely on his forehead away from his face. “I’ve decided I hate you, actually.”

You threw your head back and laughed. “You’re the one who told our friends you made love to me literally the morning after we first slept together.”

Astarion waved his hand dismissively through the air. “I didn’t know what I was saying.” He rolled his hips against yours again, harder now, despite his supposed hatred towards you. “Please love, it’ll be so much better now.”

You rolled your hips in tandem with his, making Astarion hang his head and hiss. “It’s been pretty good before.”

“Well, of course it has, I’m excellent. I wouldn’t let a partner suffer, it’s not in my blood.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “But…”

“But,” he said more soberly, “you’re the first person I actually…” He paused on the word.

“Go on,” you encouraged.

He met your eye. “...love.” He held your gaze for a moment before continuing. “Last night was one of the most amazing nights of my life because of how loved I felt by you and hopefully, the feeling was reciprocated.” He sent you a small smile, which you returned with an excited and over-the-top nod. “But I think that the fact that I am completely and desperately in love with you is what made it feel wonderful as opposed to… tainted.”

You pursed your lips and attempted to make him smile again. “Are you insulting my skills now?”

He laughed. “No, sweet girl, you were and are marvelous.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to something low and breathy. “And I’d like to give it another go.”

You gave him a seductive half smile. “Then give it to me, dummy.”

Astarion lunged forward, laying you flat on your back and devouring your mouth with his own. “Oh, my love,” he moaned against your lips, “you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

Your heart soared at the compliment, and you chased his lips as he pulled away to look at you with sparkling ruby eyes.

“I’ve been looking for someone like you my whole life,” you admitted when he bent to drag his fangs along your neck again.

“I doubt that,” he chuckled, nipping lightly at your skin for good measure. “But do go on,” he urged, spurring you with a roll of his hips, “what were you looking for?”

You sighed happily and wrapped your ankle around his. “Well, I already told you I wanted someone to laugh with, that’s big.”

“We’ve never laughed together,” he licked your ear.

“Not once,” you giggled. “But, I don’t know. You’re no knight in shining armor.”

“Certainly not.”

“And you never sing with me.”

“Nor will I ever.”

“And quite honestly, you’re a little frightening.”

“Thank you, darling!” “But despite it all, you’re kind.” He scowled at your words, but softened when you kissed his nose. “You care about me and the things I care about.” You stopped him before he could argue. “And don’t disagree with me, you stole a lute for me. You fought with Rolan-”

“Who?”

“-when he was being unreasonable and wouldn’t listen to me. And you nursed me back to health when there were honestly better people at camp who were far more equipped to heal me than some vampire rogue.”

“And I did a bang up job.”

“You did,” you laughed and kissed him sweetly. “And now, I can’t imagine my life without that vampire rogue.”

He kissed you again, gently massaging his fingers through your hair and across your scalp. “Then stay with me,” he murmured.

“For as long as you’ll let me,” you responded, meeting his eye with a fierce look that conveyed your sincerity. “And longer.”

One of his hands drifted down your sides and started playing with the ties on your pants.

“May I?” he asked.

“Only if you return the favor.”

He smirked and pulled his shirt over his head, folding it neatly and slipping it under your head for extra support. He kissed your cheek before running his hands under your shirt and squeezing your breasts playfully.

“Honk,” you said, thinking yourself funny.

“You’re not funny,” he said flatly, though his smile betrayed him.

“You love me, so you have to think I’m funny.”

“Are those the rules?”

“You’re the lawyer, you tell me.”

By now, he’d removed your bra and taken one of your nipples gently into his mouth. “Mmm-mm-mmm,” he attempted to correct, though he continued sucking the hardened pebble incoherently.

“Lawyer, magistrate, what’s the difference?” you asked breathily.

Astarion came up for air. “I have neither the time, nor the patience to explain, but know that you are wrong, and I still love you.” He took your other breast into his mouth, biting down a little harshly, and making your back arch.

“Whatever you say, handsome,” you sighed, rubbing at the tips of his ears and making him moan against your skin.

“Whatever I say, huh?” He looked up at you mischievously.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s an expression.”

“You’ll let me have you tonight,” he said, resting his cheek on your breast like a pillow.

You stroked your hands through his hair. “A given.”

“You’ll let me drink from you,” he added, before tacking on a sheepish “please.”

“Of course, my love.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, his brows furrowing in thought. “And,” he said, looking back at you with a shy expression, “and you won’t leave me, once this is all over.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, Astarion,” you cupped his cheek. “No. No sweet boy, I won’t ever leave you. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.”

He made a whining sound from the back of his throat. “You say that now, but what if we can’t beat Cazador? What if I return to his thrall?”

“We won’t let that happen,” you reassured. “Believe me, that fucker was dead the moment I met you. Not a chance he survives this.”

Astarion let out an amused exhale. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, my love, but Cazador will not be easy to kill. Especially now that we know about his dastardly ritual.”

You moved your hands from his hair to start rubbing soothingly up and down his back. “You are the missing piece, Astarion. He can’t come into his power unless you’re there. And with all of us at your side, we won’t let him take you.”

Astarion looked up at you skeptically, but saw how determined you looked and softened, pressing his lips to the swell of your breast.

“Thank you,” he muttered, resting his cheek back against your skin.

“I fear the mention of your former slaver has dampened the mood.”

Astarion chuckled. “What gave you that idea?”

“Let’s see if I can’t help,” you said, wiggling your hips beneath his, both of you still clothed from the waist down. “Hmm…”

“Hmm…” Astarion mimicked you, idly rubbing his thumb across your right nipple.

“Star jasmine.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Um, it’s pronounced, ‘Ah-star-ee-on.’”

You shoved him and he laughed. “No, idiot. We’ll have star jasmine growing on the side of our house.”

“Who, ‘we?’ You and me, ‘we?’”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, obviously.”

“Oh.” Astarion looked pleased. “What else?”

“We’ll live in the Upper City.”

“Staying in Baldur’s Gate, are we?”

“Shush, this is my fantasy.”

He chuckled. “Go on, then.”

“It’ll be in a nice quiet corner of the city. Exclusive to all but the finest of citizens.”

Astarion nodded, fiddling with the ends of your hair.

“You’ll be a renowned tailor and have a shop downstairs.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, will I? And who says I won’t want to live a quiet life, ravishing my beloved all day?” He kissed your breast again and dragged his fangs along the plump flesh.

You shivered. “We need to make money, somehow,” you said shakily.

“And you expect me to be the breadwinner? Selfish little thing, aren’t you?” He continued dragging his fangs along your chest.

“I’ll be performing at prestigious parties all around town,” you clarified, tightening your hands into his curls. “And you’ll get bored if you’re not terrorizing patriars. What better way than with overpriced, yet exquisite garments? I’ve seen your embroidery.”

“Dextrous fingers and flowers made of thread does not a tailor make,” Astarion pointed out, nipping playfully at your nipple and moving his dexterous fingers to your still clothed core. “And besides,” he purred, circling your clit, “I’ll want to see my lovely little songbird in action every once in a while.”

You gasped at a particularly delicious rub of his fingers. “Two income households are quite common these days,” you argued, wanting to maintain the fantasy you were making up on the fly.

“And who’s to say,” Astarion said, kissing just above your naval, “that we won’t become fabulously wealthy on this journey of ours?”

“Fine,” you conceded, “then we’ll live in a mansion in the countryside. Overlooking the Sword Sea.”

“Think bigger, darling,” he massaged your hips, rolling his pelvis into yours, making you aware how hard he still was. “The love of my life deserves a palace erected in her honor.”

You snorted and he pinched your sides.

“Erected,” he repeated, seeing your eyes crinkle in mirth. “Gods you are a child,” he muttered, before kissing you fiercely. “And I love you very much. Stupidly.”

“Okay, loverboy,” you laughed, “what do you expect our future to look like?” You smoothed some of his curls behind his ears and absorbed the soft look in his eyes.

“Hmm,” he mused, kissing your neck. “Well, I’ve lived in a rather decrepit crypt of a palace for the last two hundred years, so maybe a palace is out.”

You nodded, absentmindedly tucking your thumbs into his waistband and massaging the bare skin found beneath. “Alright, palaces are off the list.”

“An estate, then,” he stated, kissing your bare shoulder. “Somewhere we can throw fabulous balls and gossip about the debauchery of our esteemed guests.”

“I like that,” you sighed, as he licked up your throat. “An estate with sprawling grounds, a notably vast library, and secret rooms around every shadowy corner.”

“You’ve been reading too many books, my love,” he chuckled, kissing your jawline.

“And with my notably vast library, I’ll read even more,” you said. “And you’ll read to me.”

Astarion pulled back to grin at you. “Will I?”

You nodded. “I adore your voice. It lilts like a melody.”

He laughed airly. “You flatter me.”

“I love you,” you shrugged, by way of explanation.

“And I, you,” he smiled. Then his face fell. “Oh gods, is it going to be mushy like this all the time now?”

You laughed again and playfully smacked the side of his head.

“I jest, love,” he chuckled, shockingly not complaining about you swatting at his curls. “I adore you. May I have you now?” His fingers slipped delicately into your own waistband.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “Please.”

In one graceful motion that you’d come to expect, Astarion removed both your pants and underthings in one go.

He inhaled deeply. “You smell divine, my sweet.” His fingers swept through your folds, making you jolt at their sudden coolness. “And you’re nearly wet enough to take me already.”

“I like thinking about our future,” you admitted. “I like picturing you happy.”

“Blech,” Astarion stuck out his tongue in mock disgust, but began to circle your clit slowly with his thumb. “Tell someone you love them, and suddenly they picture you happy.”

You attempted to inch your hips closer to his hand. “You like being happy, admit it.”

“Never,” he growled, leaning forward to kiss you again. “But I suppose I like you.”

“I knew it,” you teased, closing your eyes with a blissed out smile as he inserted a finger into your dripping hole.

“Blue,” he said, pumping his finger into you.

“Yellow,” you responded breathlessly. “What are we talking about?”

“I was also thinking yellow,” he smiled, as if that response made any sense.

“Great! What are we talking about?”

“The estate, darling,” Astarion rolled his eyes. “I think blue for the sky and yellow for the sun would be quite a pleasant theme as opposed to the wretchedly dark crimsons, greens, and golds found in Cazador’s mansion.”

“Ah,” you whined as he inserted another finger. “Sounds… sounds like the winter solstice all year round.”

“Trust me, darling, there was never any joy or festivities to be had in that loathsome place.”

“Our house,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut to focus on your words, “will be full of nothing but joy.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Astarion teased, lowering himself to suck on your clit.

You gasped loudly and thrust your hands into his hair. He lapped at your folds, never removing his fingers, and sucked viciously at your bundle of nerves.

“We’ll hold dinner parties,” you sighed, “all the time. If only so you can flaunt our wealth.”

Astarion moaned into your core, bumping his nose against your clit as he licked you up and down.

Your hands tightened in his hair. “We’ll wear the finest clothes, sleep in the finest bed, make love in the finest bed- ah!”

Astarion pulled you closer to his face, a possessive rumbling low in his chest.

“I’ll hold you in my arms at night and never let you go,” you dragged your nails down his back.

“Please,” he mumbled against your sensitive skin.

“W-want that?” you asked as he returned to sucking your clit. “We-we’ll stay in bed, ah- for as long as you like. No expectations to go a-anywhere so do anything. We’ll be f-free.”

The vampire moaned loudly, pumping his fingers extra harshly and hitting the spongy spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Oh Astarion!” you wailed, throwing an arm over your eyes and twisting your free hand into his hair again. “I love you.”

“Then come, damn you,” he whined, squeezing your hip.

“Trying,” you laughed. “Faster.”

He hummed an affirmation, swirling your clit around with the tip of his tongue and pumping into you harshly.

“I can’t wait,” you said, feeling the knot in your stomach about to burst, “for our future together.”

Astarion groaned against you, sucking your clit harshly and petting your hip with the hand that wasn’t currently thrusting into you. “I love you, my darling,” he said softly.

The dam broke and you were wailing his name, crying out for him to stay with you and never let you go.

Astarion for his part, released you from his mouth and continued fingerfucking you through your climax with sweet words: “You are so beautiful, darling. My love. My beloved, so good for me. Staying with me forever. I’m never letting you go, sweet girl.”

You came down with a shuddering sigh, gasping for breath and pulling at Astarion’s shoulders to bring his mouth to yours.

“Astarion,” you whined.

He mimicked your name in a mocking version of how you’d just whined his. “What is it?”

“I need you.”

He smirked. “A man could get used to shattering one's world, only to have them beg for more.”

“I’m not begging,” you clarified. “I want you, but only if you want me.”

Astarion’s eyes shifted from amused to adoring. He kissed you sweetly. “Oh course I want you, darling. You’re the only one I’ll ever want.”

You sighed, loving this mushy side of him. “Fuck me, then, won’t you?”

He growled, showing off his fangs playfully. “With pleasure,” he said, reaching for his pants and removing them quickly.

His cock hit his stomach, achingly pink at the tip and weeping precum.

“Wait,” you said, watching him take himself into his hand and gently begin to stroke himself. “Are you hungry?”

He threw you a wicked grin. “Famished, my love.”

You tilted your head, revealing your throat to him. “I’m all yours.”

He climbed on top of you, nuzzling into your neck with his beautifully sculpted nose. ”Thank you,” he said, dragging his lips across your skin before biting down at your pulse point.

You inhaled sharply, the icy familiarity of his fangs in your throat sending a pang through your entire body, right down to your core. Unconsciously, Astarion rolled his hips against yours, bumping the head of his cock against your clit. You moaned loudly, making him grunt against your neck.

“We’ll make love in every room of the estate,” you sighed. “On every possible surface.”

Astarion nipped your ear with a growl before returning to your blood.

“Our guests will have no idea we fucked on the lounge in the drawing room.”

“Mmm.”

“On the desk in the study.”

“Mmm.”

“On the very table where they dine with us.”

Astarion gave a gasping breath as he pulled away from your throat and kissed you feverishly. You matched his vigor, reaching down and taking his cock into your hand, pumping it slowly, spreading his precum down the length of him, and feeling how your blood already added to the warmth and hardness of him.

“Did you get enough?” you asked innocently against his lips.

He licked into your mouth, still tangy with the taste of your blood. “It’ll never be enough,” he said lowly, squeezing his eyes shut as your hand picked up the pace on his length, “but, ah, it’s enough for now.”

You smiled, using your free hand to wipe your blood from the corner of his mouth. “Is it time to make love?”

He sighed dramatically, flipping his hair out of his eyes before staring down at you with a smirk. “Yes, my dearest, I would like that very much.”

“So would I,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Astarion kissed you softly as he took himself into his hand and lined himself up at your entrance. He searched your face briefly, finding nothing but love and anticipation.

Still, he asked.

“Ready, darling?”

You smiled at him, hoping the small act conveyed all the devotion you could possibly lend to another being in this world.

“Yes.”

He pushed into you slowly, cooing at your mild wince.

“You always do so well for me, love, and you feel so good, wrapped around me so snuggly.”

You raked your nails down his back, softening down to your fingertips when you came in contact with the raised skin you found there.

“No need to be gentle, my sweet,” he said conspiratorially, “I’ve told you, they don’t hurt anymore.”

He pulled back slightly and observed the look in your eye, your gaze locked on something just past his shoulder, knowing that you were thinking about his scars, rather than focusing on him in this moment.

That wouldn’t do.

He bent and kissed the side of your mouth. “Can I tell you what I picture?”

You blinked and your gaze returned to his. “Of course.”

He paused briefly to make sure you were comfortable, before pulling back and snapping his hips forward again.

“You, obviously.”

You smiled. “I made the cut? How sweet.”

“Yes, it was a tight race between you and Wyll for a minute there, I won’t lie.”

You laughed and Astarion preened, thrilled to see the joy return to your eyes. He snapped his hips into you again, eliciting a surprised moan from your lips.

“Truthfully though, darling, as much as I’d love to flaunt our love from the most luxurious estate on the Sword Coast,” he kissed your jawline in time with his lethargic thrusts, “I think I’d prefer your quaint little idea.”

You’d closed your eyes and bliss, but opened them again, not sure you’d heard him correctly. “You mean the house in the Upper City?”

His mouth ticked up at the corner. “Yes, my dear.” He leaned down to lick at the fresh wound on your neck, and thrust into you firmly.

“But, ha,” you exhaled, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get him deeper inside of you, “the sprawling estate? The grand dinner parties? Your fancy balls?” You made to reach for his balls, but he swatted you away.

He laughed out your name. “I’m serious, love.” He kissed across your chest, allowing you to slowly run your fingers through his curls. “I’ve lived enough of my life in a vast palace with dark halls and looming shadows and it all felt… incredibly empty. I’d rather have a home. With you.”

You felt your eyes go misty for the second time tonight and looked away from his face. “But…” you said, grasping at anything to keep you from shedding a tear and possibly ruining the moment, “you’re the one who said to think bigger. And the estate would never be empty, there would be people over all the time.”

Astarion stopped kissing your chest to look you in the eye. “Is that what you want?”

You sniffled softly. “I want what you want.”

“Darling girl, are you crying?” Astarion immediately paused his motions and cupped both of your cheeks in his cool hands.

“I’m trying not to,” you giggled, shakily.

“Did I say something wrong?”

You laughed more loudly, and shook your head, a tear escaping your eye and rolling down your face to kiss Astarion’s thumb.

“No, Astarion, it’s just… I want to build a home with you too. I’d be happy anywhere you are. I love you.”

Astarion grinned and kissed you, rolling his hips and making you both whine into each other’s mouths.

“Picture with me for a moment, darling,” he said, thrusting into you again, “the little house in the Upper City… scratch that, it would be the biggest house on the block.”

You laughed. “That goes without saying.”

“Our home would be filled to the brim with possessions. Things that belong to us.”

“Like, ah-” you panted in time with one of his thrusts, “-like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Astarion shook his head, his cheeks the faintest of red from exertion. “Jewels, perhaps? Gold, obviously. Whatever we want! We’ll buy and take it all.”

“Emphasis on ‘take,’” you teased.

“Oh absolutely,” Astarion smirked, bringing his fingers to his mouth and wetting them before bringing them down to your clit. “There’d be multiple guest rooms for us to make love in, a reading room, a nursery, a quaint little kitchen, perhaps a study for when I’m feeling rather grandiose-”

“Wait,” you sat up suddenly, making Astarion freeze and stare at you with terror in his eyes.

“What? What is it, what happened?” He searched your eyes and brought his hands to your cheeks.

You furrowed your brow. “What did you say?”

“Which part?”

“I don’t know, you were talking a lot, and you were making me feel so good, but you said-”

“Oh, my study? Well, I suppose we can share it, darling. Though I’d expect to be able to go in there to brood occasionally.”

“No, before that.” You laid back down gently, and he didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. “Did you say ‘nursery?’”

“Did I?” Astarion looked vaguely embarrassed. “I suppose I did.”

You tried to keep your face neutral. “Do you want kids someday, Astarion?”

The vampire gave his hips a gentle roll within you. “I don’t know…” he admitted. “But with the way you act around those tiefling children, I’d imagine you want to be a mother. And I’d be lying if I said the image didn’t do anything for me.”

You smiled softly at his suggestive eyebrows. “I do love kids. I told you they usually make up the best audiences.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Ugh, I don’t know how you put up with all the mess and screaming and excessive energy.”

You shrugged, rolling your hips this time and making him huff out a small whine. “If you don’t want children, that’s fine. I still love you. That won’t change.”

Astarion looked back down at you with a slightly gooey smile. “Oh, but darling, you love children. And imagine how perfect our child would be. My good looks and charming personality, mixed with your… I don’t know… humor? I guess, if that’s what you want to call it.”

You smacked his arm and he laughed.

“Whatever children we’d have would absolutely adore you, I hope you know,” you said, reaching forward to grab his hips in a possessive manner you rarely showed.

Astarion looked at your hands and raised an eyebrow at you. “Would they?” he asked, the uncertainty in his tone betraying his attempt at being suave.

“Of course they would,” you said, sitting up again. You pushed him back gently, causing him to pull out of you completely. “Lie down,” you gestured to his rolled up shirt you’d been using as a pillow.

He gave you a questioning look, but obliged. He slowly lowered himself down as you climbed on top of him.

“Imagine, if you please,” you said, hovering above his cock and taking it into your hand gently. You pumped your own slick down his shaft, making him throw his head back in bliss. “Our home, full of love. Full of joy. Full of our possessions. Full of your possessions.”

You slowly lowered your heat onto him, taking him in slowly, and causing you both to hiss out in satisfaction.

“Imagine filling me up to the brim,” you bagan to bounce on your knees, “full of you and only you, and creating something that’s purely us.”

“Us,” Astarion breathed, taking your breasts into his hands, “I still love the sound of that.”

You bent forward to kiss him deeply, rolling your hips to get him to hit just the right spot within you, making you gasp against his mouth.

“You’d make a wonderful father,” you murmured. “That child would be yours and you’d spoil them everyday with attention and sweets and some misguided but well intentioned gifts.”

Astarion chuckled while brushing a loose curl out of his face. “I’m not going to give the baby a knife, my sweet.”

You gave him a sarcastic, disbelieving look, and he laughed louder.

“Not right away, at least!”

You kissed him again, slamming your hips against his playfully in a way that had you both moaning.

The two of you remained quiet for a moment, save for the sound of your skin slapping against his, mixed with your labored breathing and moans of pleasure.

“D-darling,” he panted, digging his nails into your hips, “I’m not even sure if giving you a child is possible with… with my condition.”

Astarion looked at you with a fear you’d never seen before. You cupped his cheeks and rubbed your thumb along his cheekbone.

“Astarion, my love, I swear to you that it would be okay. We would be okay.”

“But I want that,” he said, a bit childishly. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to see our babe supping from your breast and sucking their thumb for comfort. I want something that’s mine. That’s ours, together. Something I can proudly show the world that I helped make. Something good for once.”

You slowed your hips again and kissed him softly. “You are not defined by what you can offer the world, my love. You’re allowed to live now. You can figure out who you are and what you want.” Astarion nodded, grabbing your hand in his and kissing your palm. “Besides,” you continued, “bringing a child into the world while we have worms in our heads seems like the number one offense of negligent parents in the making. We have plenty of time to figure it all out.”

Without warning, Astarion pulled you off of him, scooped under your ass and flipped you around so you were on your back, and he was on top of you once more.

“Then for now, let’s pretend I want to put a baby in you,” he snarled, licking the shell of your ear. You whimpered slightly and he chuckled. “Would you like that?”

“Yes,” you breathed, watching him line himself up with your entrance once more.

“Good,” he said softly before slamming his cock into you and making you cry out in ecstacy.

He started with a punishing pace, clearly desperate to reach his high and fill you with cum.

“You want that, don’t you, my love,” he teased, squeezing your thigh before placing your calf on his shoulder. “You want to carry my child and be treated like a queen for doing so. You wouldn’t lift a finger under my watch, beloved. You’ll be carrying precious cargo and I’ll insist on doing everything for you.”

You laughed. “No, you won’t.”

“Shush, darling, this is my fantasy.”

You laughed again at his callback to your earlier joke, and let your eyes fall closed from the bliss of his cock pounding into your sopping wet cunt.

“Our child would never know pain, if I could help it. They’d be the most spoiled child in the Gate. In Faerûn.”

“Gods help us,” you sighed, trying to make a joke, but feeling too good to commit fully.

“You would be an absolute warrior of a mother,” he continued, paying wonderful attention to your clit. “So beautiful and patient and kind. I hope they'll look just like you.”

You opened your eyes and looked at your gorgeous lover. “Are you kidding? I hope they’ll look like you!”

“Darling-”

“You, Astarion, who haven’t seen your own reflection in nearly two hundred years? I hope they are your spitting image. The world deserves more beauty like yours.”

Astarion looked at you fondly, as if he might cry. “Oh,” he said quietly, his voice almost breaking, “then in that case, yes, I hope they look like me.”

You laughed, flinging an arm over your eyes, to which Astarion pulled your arm away.

“I love your eyes,” he said sincerely. “Don’t hide.”

“I love you,” you responded.

“I love you, too,” he said, nuzzling his nose against yours and picking up his pace again. “Why stop at just one?” he asked, pulling back and wrapping his hand around your calf resting on his shoulder. “We’ll fill the Gate with my spawn.”

“Don’t love that phrasing.”

“Figure of speech, darling.”

“Hmm, we’ll work on it.”

“If saying that is an attempt to keep me from bedding you every chance I get, then it won’t work,” he said, turning his nose up at you pompously. “I intend to bed you whenever possible in our home, regardless of any guests we may have over, or children who might be in the next room.”

The thought of your hypothetical guests overhearing you made you moan.

Astarion grinned.

“Our little home won’t have a single surface where we won’t make love. Much like our country estate.”

You smiled, gasping as he circled your clit. “We’ll- we’ll have both?”

“I’ll need as many rooms available to me as possible to bed you, my love. And a place to escape the children.”

You lightly tapped your calf against the side of his head and he laughed.

“Only joking my darling, those children aren’t escaping our watch, they’ll be far too clever on their own.”

“Ugh,” you moaned, “I love the thought of you with our children.”

“Go on,” he encouraged, thrusting into you again and again.

“Reading them bedtime stories. Bandaging their wounds when they fall on the pavement. Bringing them soup when they don’t feel well.”

“Am I a single parent in this scenario?” he teased. “Where are you?”

“Watching you. Taking it all in and seeing the joy on your face when it hits you that you have something that’s completely yours.”

Astarion’s eyes melted and he leaned forward to kiss you harshly.

“Come for me,” he said against your lips, “I want to feel you milking me for every last drop I have.”

“I love you,” you repeated.

“And I love you,” he smiled and kissed you again, crashing his hips into yours and making you cry out in pure bliss.

With a few more thrusts, the knot in your stomach finally released, and you came crashing over the edge, images of Astarion holding your child, feeding them a bottle, teaching them to read and write and hunt, filling the space behind your eyelids as you called out for him.

Astarion held you tightly in his arms as he pumped you full of his spend, cooing sweet nothings as he went.

“Oh, my darling, my love, my one and only, take it, take it all, it’s yours, someday we’ll have our family.”

Tears glistened in your eyes as you finally came down from your high. It only took a few seconds before Astarion was whispering your name repeatedly and coming down from his own high. He laid his head on your chest as he had earlier and you ran your hands through his hair.

“Making sure it takes,” he said, explaining why he hadn’t pulled out of you yet.

“Stay with me,” you wrapped your arms around his torso comfortingly.

“Always,” he smiled, kissing the bare skin of your chest.

“I do want all of that,” you said. “Our life in Baldur’s Gate. We can figure out how to achieve the rest later. Maybe Jaheira or Halsin will know something about vampire offspring.”

“Ugh, darling, must you mention the druids while my cock is still resting inside of you?”

You giggled. “Sorry.”

He brushed some loose hair out of your face affectionately. “I’d like that too, love. I realize now, I’ve never really had… anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you. But if you insist on loving and adoring me, I guess I’ll just have to allow it.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

Astarion hummed in amusement before his expression became more serious. “Once we kill Cazador and get these worms out of our heads, then that life shall be ours. I swear it.”

“We need to do something else first,” you pointed out.

“And what’s that, my love?”

“Figure out a way out of this gaudy temple.”

“Ah yes. Fuck.”

~~~~~

Meanwhile, back at the Last Light Inn, Shadowheart yelped out in pain.

Isobel, having been freshly saved from the henchmen of Ketheric, ran to her side to examine her wounds.

“Everything alright, Shadowheart?” Wyll asked, pulling his rapier out of a downed Winged Horror.

“You don’t appear badly injured,” Isobel observed.

Shadowheart clutched her right hand to her chest. “It’s this blasted wound on my hand. Lady Shar is not pleased about something.”

Gale adjusted his robes. “Why do I have a strange feeling it has something to do with our missing teammates?”

Lae’zel groaned loudly, while Karlach merely laughed.

“Nice.”

267 notes · View notes

xo2dee · 5 months ago

Text

🗨️ OPIA/GOJO NSFW WEEK 2023 - DAY ONE: EXHIBITIONISM

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: MDNI/18+ ONLY. Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Voyeurism, Spit as Lube, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Panty Kink, Creampie. WORD COUNT: 5,906. SUMMARY: On a night out in the city, you're not exactly opposed to risk-taking. Or: Gojo and you fuck in an alleyway.

A/N: yes i know it says 2023 but most of this was posted back then on ao3 and i didnt feel like posting over here back then. but i changed my mind seeing as these qualify as oneshots as supposed to a linear story with multiple chapters, so i'll be posting all seven of these within the next week or so. pls enjoy!

JJK MASTERLIST

Beneath the fluorescent lights and the shaking of the train, you felt it. Someone was staring at you, and with the dark lenses of his sunglasses over his eyes, you couldn’t really tell exactly where he was looking, or if it even was him looking at you. And being watched wasn’t necessarily new to you; or, really, when you were watched more than enough times to count by the man who had the ‘All-Seeing Eyes’, you got used to that particular feeling whether it was unwanted or not.

You didn’t mind it per se, but the lingering sensation was enough to make your eyebrow twitch and to run your tongue across your teeth in annoyance. It was always a nagging feeling – an itching crawling along your skin and tickling your nape whenever you knew someone was staring at you, and at first thought you figured it was him. He liked to look at you and liked to stare at you beneath either the shades of his sunglasses, or underneath the dark fabric of his blindfold, leading you to wonder at times if he was really looking at you, or if your senses were playing tricks on you.

Yet when it came to Gojo Satoru, anything was possible and he could’ve been looking everywhere at once.

(And while he liked to look at you in a way, which meant he didn’t necessarily like when someone else looked at you the same way.)

It was a rare night and you didn’t necessarily like taking subway trains, but when you wanted a more mundane night out with your boyfriend you’d take any offer you could. Ignoring the offhand comments about being able to take you anywhere without any waiting time, you wrangled Satoru into sightseeing the city with you, your arm hooked with his and kicking each other in the back of the legs for fun whenever you felt like teasing one another. He’d nagged a few times, effectively shutting up as he dragged you towards a sweets shop and got a total of six orders of dango (eating at least four and a half himself and leaving the rest for you), and when you wanted to move to a different part of Tokyo without randomly teleporting and remaining inconspicuous, you dragged him to wait on the next train to Shinjuku.

Which, in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best for his patience and easing any boredom, but when it was only you, him, and a couple of business men on their way home from work or just random tourists out and about, you figured it wasn’t that bad. Or so, you thought it wasn’t, until you began to feel that nagging feeling and peeked over at him from your phone to wonder if he was gazing at you, only to find Satoru facing completely forward with his lips set into a fine line and glasses covering any semblance that you could see of his eyes.

You leant forward into his space after pocketing your phone into your jacket, leg thrown casually over his own as his fingers curled into the fabric of your skirt to pull it down and pressed yourself against his arm. The nagging sense that someone was looking at you prickled your nape once more when you moved, ignoring it in favor of jabbing your fingers into Satoru’s side, “What’re you looking at?”

The corner of his lip twitched upwards for a moment, his head tilting to the side and it was then you felt his stare, practically seeing the blue through the lenses as he peered into your face. “Nothing important,” he answered, fingers twisting in the fabric of your skirt as he kept tugging it down – you supposed to keep any modesty for you.

You frowned at his tone, eyes glancing off to the side to the window behind you for a moment until you saw it – well, him. In the reflection you could stare freely, your spine tingling whenever you met the eyes of an onlooker you hadn’t noticed before openly ogling at you through the window behind your head. He wasn’t so open about it, sneaking peeks here and there, but it was clear as day at the time his eyes would gloss over whenever he got the sight of you and Satoru. Not so perverse… yet still enough to make you want to roll your eyes at the behavior; as well see the annoyance in Satoru’s posture.

Ah, that was his reason for the stiff legs and death grip on your skirt… It wasn’t unknown for Satoru to get jealous at times; nothing too ridiculous, just an arm thrown over your shoulders or his hand slipping down to grasp at your hip, but it was natural for him wanting to keep what was his, his. And nothing wrong with it, you felt the same, but you knew at times it was something silly to even feel a little green-eyed over.

Your frown lifted into a small smile, looking back to him and leaning close enough to him that your eyelashes kissed across his jawline and your lips were unreadable to the onlooker, “Don’t tell me: you’re mad he’s trying to look up my skirt?”

Satoru’s jaw locked once your words whispered across his skin, a fine eyebrow raising from underneath his glasses as you had to wonder if he was looking at you that time or still pinning the man with his eyes. His thumb smoothed down on your skirt in intervals; stimulating himself and jittering your nerves before he mumbled, “And you’re so nonchalant about this because…”

Lips pursing you casted another glance to the onlooker, realizing he wasn’t necessarily looking at you as much as he was looking at the both of you. Yeah, you figured it out, and if you weren’t someone who didn’t like to openly flaunt around with Satoru, or someone who didn’t necessarily like it when someone stared at you for so long, you probably would’ve been annoyed and grossed out. However, knowing he liked to stare at Satoru…

“Because maybe he’s eyeballing us both?”

His face twisted; nothing in disgust, but more genuine surprise and interest for your analysis. “For what?” his glasses slipped down, both iridescent eyes pinning you to your spot as you only shrugged with a coy grin and looked away as the subway came to a stop at your destination. A short ride; nevertheless, an interesting one that gave you a new coy idea whenever you felt the man’s gaze linger on you as you stood up before it widened in wonder whenever he took the sheer height of Satoru as he stood up as well.

Interesting.

You kept small smile on your face as Satoru’s fingers found your own, a “C’mon”, mumbled to you as he led you out of the underground subway station and into the night air of Shinjuku bustling with nightlife. Neither you or he said anything else about the matter, your steps falling in sync as you only began to sightsee (for yourself mainly) and speak randomly about mundane things. It weighed heavy in your mind however, flashbacks from intimate times before with Satoru making themselves known in your memories as the ordinary night you had wanted to have begun to twist into a want that began to throb beneath your naval and heat your cheeks.

It wasn’t until your palm started sweating in his own that the atmosphere changed, pulling his fingers and palm away from your own to instead thrown an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close and teasing you for the sweat before Satoru casted a glance from over his shoulder nonchalantly. A groan revibrated from his chest against your ear, wanting to look behind you to see whatever provoked such a reaction from him yet stopping short whenever Satoru’s pace picked up and his shoulder was too high up for you to look over.

“Of course…” he pulled you further into his side, your cheek pressing further into his chest, “Y’know, you attract the strangest men.”

“Yourself included?” you teased, tickling his side with your fingers before you gave another look back, lips pursing when you recognized the silhouette of the tourist on subway. In a normal situation you would’ve been creeped out; a guy following you around at night? Yeah, though you weren’t necessarily the most normal person around and had Satoru by your side, and you recognized the dilated pupils he had in the train of the same way yours had dilated whenever you thought back to the many sexual escapades you and Satoru had. And the way you’d never been caught… “What’s the matter, Satoru?” you asked breathily, a coil turning behind your naval whenever you caught his eye from under his lenses, “You can easily remedy this.”

“Well yeah, but I’m more wondering why you don’t seem the slightest bit disturbed,” he noted, fingers dancing across your shoulder as you caught the scent of the mint gum rolling around his teeth.

You shrugged, “I think you’re missing a better picture.”

“Elaborate.”

A light laugh escaped you as you both stopped outside of a narrowing alleyway, his hand falling off your shoulder as you instead reached for it with teasing fingers and a bite to your lip, “Remember that time Nanami almost caught us? You had to cover my mouth so he wouldn’t hear us –” Satoru opened his mouth to intercept, his head turning a fraction to the onlooker just feet behind you both, yet you continued with a squeeze of your hand, “ – but… I distinctly remember you got off from me getting off at the idea that someone might hear or see us.”

Under the orange glow of the streetlights, you could see the blush form; cheeks tinging pink as he recounted the memory with perfect clarity, a lick to his lips moments after and a hard swallow that made his Adam’s apple visibly bob. “Yeah… I remember that,” his hand rose, pulling his glasses off and flicking them closed before pocketing them with a certain heaviness in his eyes, “I remember it very well.”

Bingo.

“Or, y’know, when we were on top of the Tokyo Tower…”

“That’s still my favorite.”

“Or with your Infinity.”

“Hilarious.”

You rolled your eyes at his deadpan and rolled your neck around dramatically, “C’monnnn,” you pulled his hand, but he remained in his same spot, your eyes glinting around the shine of his hair,“Harmless fun? Besides…” you tip-toed closer to him, craning your neck to look up at him as your lips brushed his jawline, “don’t you like it when people know I’m yours?”

Satoru squinted at you, yet a slow expansion of his pupils spoke otherwise for his words. “You’re a… freak.”

You grinned and kissed his cheek, “You love it.”

“I do – God, I do.”

Satoru perked up afterwards, standing up straighter and fully twisting your fingers together as he pivoted sharply on his heel and began to pull you within the dark space of the alleyway. You smothered a giggle when the giddiness and love for the thrill began to welt up inside of you, squeezing his hand only once as you let yourself be dragged into the alley until you both got far enough to be hidden, yet not so completely covered by any eyes that strained hard enough.

Satoru stopped with heavy steps, hand slipping from yours with the slightest bit of apprehension along his expression whenever he turned back to you and towered over your figure, “You’re sure about this?”

A smile graced your face in spite of your roaring want, glad of his reassurance still coming into play. “I should be asking you…”

“Oh…” he looked around your face, hand coming up to stroke his chin as a self-satisfied smirk played across his lips, “Yeah, totally. We’ve done it before soooo…”

“Then we shouldn’t waste time.”

He moved as heartbeat sped up, fingers slipped under your chin, caressing your jaw softly as you smiled up at him before placing your own finger to his lips when he began to lean in for a kiss. You knew if you were going to do it so openly and so publicly, it’d have to be quick. His eyes glinted for a moment, a heaviness to them before meeting with your own as you shook your head, “And there’s no time for that…”

You drugged your words out with a simmering tone, only low enough his ears and only spoken in a way you knew he was familiar with.

Satoru was on you before you could blink, the fading streetlight bulb popping from an impulse of his cursed energy fluctuating out, and you could only realize milliseconds later that he’d been wanting you more than you had been wanting him during the night. His lips molded around your own, mouth crushing onto yours as your back hit the brick wall behind you and he locked your legs around his waist to keep you in his hold. Your clit throbbed trapped underneath your panties, something he was about to remedy for only but a brief moment as his slowly hardening cock pushed against your own want in a slow roll of his hips.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders the same time it happened, a moan trapped between teeth and tongue escaping you as he pushed you higher up against the wall, the brick scratching along your back as the distant sound of shoe scraping against concrete made you both freeze. Your eyes opened only momentarily, enough for Satoru to smack off of your lips with a pout settling on his own as his fingers dug until the bare flesh of your thighs and he called out nonchalantly to the Peeping Tom with a roll of his shoulders.

“Feel free to watch if ya want! But that’s all you’re getting!”

You gaped at his shamelessness, pressing your face into his shoulder with a laugh as his hands trailed up to squeeze your hips. Nearly wanting to kick your feet at the ridiculousness of it all, you could only feel your heart twist with adoration at the overall joy and humor you could share with Satoru; you supposed only you two would be able to snicker in each other’s faces at the idea of someone watching you two have sex… However, Satoru’s own shaking shoulders made you sober up a bit, turning your head to press a kiss to his jawline as you could only treasure carefree attitude he had through all the silliness you two would get into together.

The feeling of your lips on his jaw made him sigh, rolling his neck around until he got away from your face before diving into your own neck. A squeal bubbled out of you, nails digging into his biceps as he kissed your throat first with his teeth coming after that in a playful bite along where he knew a horde of veins sat. The feeling made you squeeze his waist with your thighs, a low throb making itself known once more as you wiggled around to press his dick anywhere near you could it get close to your clit. His own fingers clasped fully around your hips, hard enough to nearly crack his knuckles as his teeth released your flesh and his tongue smoothed over the bite to placate you.

A groan pushed past your lips, wiggling to try and push yourself higher and stow the heat in your stomach, “God, Satoru –”

“Hmm?” He was cheeky in the way he pressed his cheek into your own, flared hot and red with his inhales and exhales steadily growing in intervals and louder in volume.

You didn’t waste any time, cupping his face in your hands to pull his mouth back into your for a hard kiss as he released your hips, tapping his hands on your thighs in a sign for you to unwrap them from his waist. You obliged but only with confusion, jumping down from him as your messy kiss broke with a ‘smack!’, and trailing your hands along his shoulders for an explanation before he smirked and spun your body around expertly (like he’d done that particular move one too many times. Which he had).

Satoru hands found your hips again, walking you forward until you had to brace your hands against the brick wall and his front was pressed securely against your backside, the warmth he radiated generating goosebumps across your body as his treacherous hands moved up and squeezed your tits through your shirt. He relished in your sigh, chin falling onto your shoulder with a sigh as your back arched and your ass pressed into his crotch, “You’re the one who said we have no time.”

He rocked forward and you keened, nails scratching into the brick as his cock pressed up against your pussy and jolted your nerves, peeking at him behind your shoulder with a sly grin, “Yeah, I did, but I’m also waiting on you to get on with it.”

Satoru snorted, humorous and impatient at the same time as he abruptly pulled off of you, leaving you positioned against the wall before he bent down and reached underneath your skirt to snap your panties waistline against your skin. You rolled your eyes and knocked your foot into his calf, a snicker from him following as he leaned to press a chaste kiss to the back of your thigh with a soft bite, “The itsy-bitsy spider crawled up the water spout…”

Oh my God.

Leave it to Gojo Satoru to sing, ‘The Itsy-Bitsy Spider’ as his fingers crawled up your legs (like spiders, you guessed) to pull your panties down. You bit the inside of your cheek as they grew hotter, smothering a laugh as the absurdity you two were engaging in.

Satoru’s long fingers slipped into your panties, tugging them down as you arched your back and stood up on your tip-toes so that he could pull them down your legs and off of your feet. A breeze wisped around you without the comfort of your panties, pressing your thighs together to keep the warmth and wetness safe as you glanced behind you to watch him stuff your damp panties into his back pocket. You wanted to snark at him for it, however all words became lost when he upon you once more, a foot sliding in-between your own to kick your feet apart and slot his covered crotch against your bare pussy as his hand slid up your thigh to disappear underneath your skirt.

He seized your body with a light touch to your clit, whistling lowly into your ear at the clear evidence of your growing arousal with your knees buckling a fraction as his other hand moved back to palm at your breast and the two fingers dipped into your warmth began to slowly rotated atop your throbbing clit. The fire in your body grew, the fluids between your legs egging him on enough to move at a faster pace as you could only rock hips in time and push back against his cock to excite him further. The knot behind your naval began to spin, heat licking up your veins to the nerves on the top of your head at the expert way he could handle your body, a bite to your cheek a moment after your pussy drooled more and a long finger prodded at your opening.

Hips rocking forward to avoid him fingering you, you bent forward at the waist more to protrude your ass further and let your point get across. “No time,” you reminded him in a gasp, eyes glancing off towards the side and your cunt clenching in on nothing when you could see the shadow of the voyeur at the opening of the alleyway. Satoru only hummed, the noise vibrating in his chest through your back as he pulled away from you for moment, the sounds of his belt unlooping and unbuckling followed by the whine of his zipper.

“Then I guess we’re doing this the old fashion way.” There was humor in his voice, perhaps at your over eagerness to get him inside of you, and you had to whine when he was taking too long and you were missing his fingers. Satoru laughed softly, “Relax, baby,” a croon in your ear as a hand slithered up your spine, squeezing your nape softly before it curled over your shoulder with his palm out and awaiting, “Spit.”

Ah, he more than likely didn’t have enough precum or jerked himself off enough the lather himself up, a wry smirk creasing your face as you realized it really was like the ‘old fashion way’ whenever you two would have fast and rough quickies in places you shouldn’t have been. Regardless you ran your tongue across your teeth, rolling your tongue afterwards to produce enough saliva to spit into his awaiting palm. You did so, rolling your eyes at his quip of being overeager and patiently waiting for him to lather his cock up, the burning in your body beginning to ache in your spine and limbs for the rapid zealous want.

And, thankfully, he was back before you could miss him too much, the heat of cock sliding along your slit making your knees buckles and pushed onto him as he laughed and gripped himself to find your opening.

He was lethargic pushing his cock into you, a far cry from the oversensitive way his body coiled up and his manhandling against you, yet the slow press of himself inside of you had your thighs quivering, your cunt squeezing on his cock as he blew air through the cracks of his teeth. Biting your lip deemed well to keep your noises to the minimum, however once fully inside he pulled back out for a moment with one hand intertwining with the fingers of your own still placed on the wall, and within the next he wasted no time to harshly push himself back inside with the full expanse of his cock taking home into your cunt.

The loud moan you gave at the rough thrust was securely caught by his other hand, another one you blubbered into his palm captured as well as Satoru started a slow rock and push of his hips, his cock sliding deliciously in and out of your pussy in a way that made your cunt throb and squeeze to keep him inside. He grunted and widened his stance, your body bending further as it pushed him deeper and you drooled onto his hand with a muffled whine of his name.

His lips found your ear, husky yet with the tinge of that flippant attitude he liked to have, “As much as I wanna hear it, don’t wanna risk a peanut gallery –“ another grunt as he sped up just a fraction, the slide becoming easier due to your cunt producing more fluids and your spit lubed onto him, and you had to push back into him to get him to move faster. “One’s enough –”

You’d nearly forgotten about the onlooker, too engrossed with the man behind you and too obsessed with the coil of heat stoking itself in your body each time Satoru swung into you. The thought made you squeeze him a little too tight on him, a broken groan behind you sounding out as he stopped for a moment and removed his hand from your mouth and the other he folded his fingers over yours and pressed his knuckles into the brick. You heard a small crack from the brick, choosing to ignore it as you pushed your hips back into him, becoming frantic in your pace as the obscene sounds of your pussy reached your ears along with the new breathy moans since your mouth was no longer covered. Satoru fared no better, his breathing getting heavier and that nonchalant attitude slowly beginning to leave him as his hand followed the curve of your waist and his fingers found your clit once more.

Back bowing at the overstimulation, you moved, twisting yourself to the side to push one shoulder into the brick as your elbow bent and Satoru kept your hand held into his and one of your legs lifted upwards as you pressed it against the front of his body. Consequently, your cunt sucked him in deeper, the front of his pants soaked by then and you could only squeeze and sigh whenever he groaned particularly loud in a call of your name at the new position and began to move once more. It wasn’t too quickly at first, yet not gently either, crashing into you as he pressed onto your clit in rapid circles as well and your head could only begin to spin and your body could only follow his doing.

You could see his eyes at the new angle too, the iridescent blue seeming to glow in the dark as they traveled down the length of your body, settling on watching his cock disappear and reappear from your pussy before they moved back to watch your fucked out face. White teeth made an appearance when you met eyes once more as they bit into his bottom lip, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow and his head tilting back, “You’re so pretty – fuck.”

The compliment made your cheeks warm; nevertheless you were getting your brains fucked out by your boyfriend, but him just complimenting you that mid-stroke and sounding all breathy while meaning it would always just have a different effect on you. The muscles in your body were beginning to coil, a carnal part of you begging for release as he thrusts sped up more, the slap of your skin against the small sliver of his own filling the alleyway along with the way your moans and cries morphed into heeding gasped that measure alongside the rhythm of his thrusting. A part of you longed to draw the sex out, yet with the way he was putting more and more pressure on your throbbing clit and the way his cock kissed the uttermost part of inside of you, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

And neither was he apparently.

A brick just below your hand cracked again, a fluctuation of Satoru’s cursed energy coaxing your body as he fucked into your harder, “Where –“ his head shook, eyebrows knotting together and eyelashes fluttering while he struggled to keep his composure, “where do you want me?”

“Please – inside. I want – you to cum – inside me.” Your words were jostled by each hard thrust, your shoulder beginning to ache as it was pushed further into the wall from the roughness yet the pain being completely drowned out by the pleasure. You could only focus on him and the ever-approaching orgasm, mentally tracing the spiral inside of you as you pushed up on the leg you still had on the ground to stand on your tip-toes to allow a deeper arch in your back and a deeper carve of his cock into you.

Satoru laughed, throaty and condescending before breaking off with a loud grunt, “You’re insane –“ he emphasized his point by another rough push of his hips, his back bending down so that he could be closer to your face, “Wantin’ me to cum inside while someone’s watching. You must love letting people see me slut you out, huh?” Satoru motioned with his head to your visitor, your eyes trailing of him for once to only widen when you could see the faint movement of them jerking off, biting your lip as the idea made your nipples harden and pussy clench.

“Mm, yes – love letting people – know – I’m yours.”

A snort and Satoru released the hold he had on your hand, gripping the thigh lying along his body in a bruising grip as he slightly pinched your clit, “Yeah, that’s right –“ his back bowed more, bent at the waist so that his whisper would caress your cheek before hiking your leg up higher so that your pussy pitifully taking his cock was on full display for anyone to see, “ – you’re mine.”

The combination of his words and the pinch on your clit had your body folding in on itself, muscles bunching and teeth gnashing together when your hips started to roll to meet him, a sad excuse of your orgasm sneaking up on you to fend it off. It didn’t help that you could still see the voyeur from the corner of your eye still aggressively jerking himself off, the notion of being watched getting fucked by Satoru sending your body into a myriad of different emotions and sensations that turned your resolve into mush. You had to close your eyes to fend it off, however Satoru’s finger on your clit combined with the way he was plowing into your pussy and practical molding you into the brick wall proved to be all too much.

Timing his thrusts with your gasps – in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, inandouinandoutOhGoddddddd –

You couldn’t take it.

Eyes reopening, you sent him a pitiful look, one that made him moan obscenely since he knew what it meant all too well. You could feel it unwind, a devasting fall when you already felt the undermine of your undoing, “God – I’m…. I’mmmmm cumming –“

Too soon your words were took from you, his fingers pinching your clit one last time as the coil behind your naval snapped, your pussy shuddering and squeezing what it could of his cock as your orgasm busted free about you. The lone streetlight that had been the only one illuminating you both abruptly busted in time with your body growing taunt as the nerves inside lit a fire throughout you. From your frontal lobe down to the tips of your toes, you felt alive; bursting free a kaleidoscope of colors tinging your vision and emotions alike with a pretty, cotton pink, a color you could only associate with the man still drilling a hole into your cunt. Foggy and boneless, you left your douse in it for a moments, completely forgetting for a moment that Satoru still had yet to cum and had his cock still fervently pressed within you.

The squelching sounds of your conjoining brought you out of your haze first, along with the tired breaths pulling free of your chest before you took notice of his own ragged breathing and broken groans. His fingers had fallen off your clit thankfully, taken to rest on the wall above your head as you could feel the familiar hum of energy radiating around you. He wouldn’t last long.

You clenched around him one last time.

Satoru cursed, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh enough that his nails began to nearly break skin as his thrusts became sloppy and desperate. “Shit – fuck – don’t squeeze –“ a high-pitched whine followed after when you squeezed about him once more, a wry grin on your face when you watched the familiar expression cross his face that made your stomach twist and another tight squeeze to his dick, “Fuck, I’m cumming –”

Eyelashes fluttering over your eyes, you watched him closely. From the discoloration of scarlet dotting his cheeks to his lips swollen from where he either captured between his teeth or the rough kissing between you both and all the way the on how his expression conformed into pure relief as his tongue whined out garble of your name. It was enough to send a spasm into your cunt, a shudder encasing Satoru’s body as he cried out and wrenched himself fully against you, a gasp falling out of you at the way his cock pushed against that soft inside of you. His warm cum spilled into you deeply, thick in ropes that painted your inside completely white as that familiar warmth flooded your insides. You released the hold you had on your shirt to press down on your lower stomach with a soft hum when you practically felt your pussy shift and mold to allow more space for his cock and cum.

“Mmm.”

Satoru made a noise in the back of his throat when he felt you pressed down, sagging against your body as his rasping calls of desperation and excitation began to dissipate and you both remained still for a few moments in bliss before even thinking about gathering yourselves. You could nearly hear his heartbeat mixing with your own, his body withdrawing from your own as he slowly pulled his leaking cock out of you while you hissed at the hyper-sensitivity and he groaned at the sight of his cum beginning to seep of your gaping hole once he was fully out. “Oh, baby.”

Holding back a snort you began to straighten yourself out as he steadied you, pulling your skirt back down over your hips and smoothing down any wrinkles in your shirt while discreetly watching him tuck his dick back into his pants. He ran a hand through his hair after that, your back meeting the wall behind you as you didn’t necessarily trust your legs to not wobble if you started to walk, and Satoru joined you with a breathy laugh. Rubbing your thighs together you grimaced, holding your hand to him and curling your fingers in a ‘Gimme’ motion.

“Panties.”

His expression morphed into confusion as he let the word hang in the between you both for a few moments. “What?”

“Give me my panties,” you emphasized your point by shaking your hand, palm out, “I’m not walking home commando and with your cum leaking out.” It was bad enough you were already feeling it… along with the stickiness slathered on the inside of your thighs.

He had the nerve to pout, patting his back pocket where you panties were still hanging out for the world to see, “Ugh, that’s so hot though…” It was silent as you stared at each other, one eyebrow of yours raising in challenge as you didn’t really feel like bringing out, ‘Satoru, so help me God’ voice. He rolled his eyes and knocked his head against the wall, fishing out your wet panties and wadding them up in a ball before slapping them into your awaiting palm. “Fineeeee.”

“Crybaby.” You ignored his whine.

You wasted no time pulling them back on, shuddering at the coolness mixing with your heated pussy still raw and sensitive as he saddled up next to you and threw an arm around your once you were settled. You took a long inhale to douse yourself in his cologne, the scent refreshing from the stench of sex while you two began to leave the area you defiled, and Satoru’s humored tone breaking you out of reverie once you reached the opening of the alleyway, “Looks like your little Peeping Tom ran off. Hope he enjoyed the show.”

Almost forgetting about him entirely you looked up and down for a moment, a smirk lining your lips as you noticed substance you nearly scuffed your shoe on, the same type you could feel nearly seeping through your underwear, “He did.”

A, ‘Ha!’ left him once you pointed at the area, drawing you closer as he bent to whisper hotly in your ear,“We should do this again next time.”

“Yeah, next time we should fuck on the beach in Okinawa.”

“…Don’t tempt me.”

#{🩸} nee fics #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo

243 notes · View notes

imsosoheee · 22 days ago

Text

lose my cool, [preview]

SYNOPSIS. yn doesn’t believe in labels—only in late nights, fleeting kisses, and the freedom to leave before things get too real. but everything shifts when she meets eunseok—calm, steady, and impossible to shake. through midnight hookups, misread silences, and all the ways love can go unspoken, yn is forced to confront the one thing she’s spent her whole life avoiding: feeling too much.

(heavily) inspired by: nevertheless - kdrama & 'lose my cool,' by kali uchis

PAIRING! art student!eunseok x fem!reader art student

GENRE! college!au, angst (as always with me haha)

WARNINGS! swearing, a lot of angst, loneliness, coldness, and miscommunication, drinking, yn is scared of feeling, descriptive kissing, suggestive themes, sex implied and smut // EACH PART WILL HAVE THEIR OWN CONTENT WARNING

WORD COUNTS:

pt. 1: 3.2k

pt. 2: 2.9k

pt. 3: 3.9k

TAGLIST! @hrtfelt4u @karebearyu @jaellymint @thevirginsuicidenotes

send an ask, dm, or reply to be added! i'll be posting soon (within the next week)

author's note! hi guys!!! my first full fic! i can't express how much this fic means to me lol.. (hence why i wrote 10k words in total, heh) i've had the idea for a while, but never had the time to write it until a few days ago and wrote it all in one night. i hope you guys can enjoy it and feel all of the emotions as much as i did <33 as always, thank you to @karebearyu for reading beforehand ིྀ

* feel free to send asks / requests anytime :)

preview under the cut

word count: 878

you couldn’t stop looking at him. not when he walked in carrying his own charcoal set, not when he put down his thermos of black tea, and especially not when he started sketching.

you didn’t look at him in a heart-eyes, rom-com way. more like... you were trying to figure out what made him tick. what made someone so closed-off and serious keep showing up to work with someone like you. maybe you liked pressing against quiet boys until they cracked.

you started to see him everywhere: at the library. in the studio. in your thoughts, embarrassingly.

you still swiped on dating apps, still went to parties, still flirted with strangers just to feel wanted. but after enough shallow hookups, you started noticing what they didn’t do: they didn’t ask how your day was. they didn’t listen when you talked about the piece you were working on. they didn’t look at you the way eunseok did when you weren’t paying attention.

he never tried to touch you—never leaned too close, never made a move, never said anything suggestive. you couldn’t tell if he wasn’t interested or just had self-control like a monk, but it came to piss you off.

one night after class, he walked you home. you didn’t ask him to. he just noticed it was late, and cold, and you weren’t wearing a jacket. you unlocked your door, turned to him, and said, “you can come in, if you want.”

he paused. “i’m good.”

“just for a drink.”

“yn.”

you blinked. “what?”

“you don’t have to try so hard.”

you stared at him, as if you had been slapped. he smiled, soft but tired. “goodnight.”

and then he walked away. you closed the door slower than usual.

you still kept things playful—always teasing, always flirtatious—but sometimes you caught yourself watching him too long when he wasn’t looking. the way he tucked his pencil behind his ear. the way his hand curved around the edge of a page like he was afraid to smudge it. the way he listened. he really listened.

“so,” you said one afternoon, sitting on the studio floor, paint on your leggings and sweat sticking your hair to the back of your neck, “tell me your type.”

he looked up from his sketch. “my type?”

“yeah. everyone has one.”

he thought for a second. “i guess... someone sincere.”

you wrinkled your nose. “ugh. boring.”

he smiled. “you asked.”

“you’re telling me you’ve never had a crush on someone objectively bad for you?”

“probably,” he admitted, “but i didn’t act on it.”

“why not?”

he glanced at you. “because i knew it’d hurt.”

you tilted your head. “you think feelings make people rational?”

“i think they make people honest,” he said. “eventually.”

“no one expects anything from a hookup,” he said softly. you raised an eyebrow. “judging me again?”

“no.” his voice was firm now. “i’m not judging you, yn.”

you searched his face for a trace of mockery, but there was none. just that same, even calm that made you want to scream and kiss him all at once. “you just think it’s dumb.”

“i think it’s lonely.”

you blinked. he didn’t press further. didn’t look smug for getting under your skin. he just started erasing something on his paper, like he hadn’t said anything personal at all. you sat in silence for a while. then, trying to shake off the weight in your chest, you leaned over to peek at his sketch. “you’re drawing me,” you said.

“you asked if i did before. figured you’d want proof.”

you grinned. “you think i’m pretty again.” he didn’t deny it, and for a second, something fluttered in your ribs—sharp and uninvited. you turned away before he could see it on your face. “you’re still not my type,” you said over your shoulder.

“i know,” he replied, not missing a beat. “you like the ones who leave.”

your smile faded. you didn’t say anything after that, and neither did he. but somehow, that silence felt louder than anything else.

“kiss me,” you whispered.

“yn—”

“please.”

he hesitated. you could see it in his eyes—that hesitation. not because he didn’t want to. but because he did, and maybe that scared him more. but then he leaned in, and you didn’t think about anything else after that. he kissed you like he didn’t know if he was allowed to.

his mouth hovered over yours for a moment too long, warm breath meeting yours. you could taste the faint bitterness of the beer he’d finished an hour ago. you could feel the hesitation in the way his hand hovered near your cheek, not touching yet, not until he was sure. when his lips finally pressed to yours, it was feather-light. nothing urgent. just a question asked in the softest language. you kissed him back before you had time to think about it.

you pulled back first, just an inch, forehead resting against his for a moment. his eyes peered into yours as you caught your breath. he searched your face. like he was trying to decide whether he believed you. whether he believed himself. your mouth met his again before he could finish thinking. that was the last time either of you tried to make sense of it.

#riize #riize x reader #kpop #riize scenarios #riize fluff #song eunseok #eunseok fluff #eunseok imagines #riize eunseok #eunseok x reader #eunseok #eunseok fic #riize fic #imsosohee : eunseok

77 notes · View notes

esotheria-sims · 11 months ago

Text

Long Overdue Life Update

Whew, the title sounds kinda ominous, doesn't it?

Lemme say right off the bat that this isn't some Big PSA post or anything to that effect. I'm only checking in because I've been quiet for a while and figured an update is the least I can do. 🙂

Nothing major or life-changing is happening on my end; I've just been shitty at finding the time for sim-blogging these past months due to work and other day-to-day rl stuff, though I have been simming a bit in the background. Mostly going on download sprees and sorting cc, but I'm also about two-thirds through my next BaCC rotation and have a few new hair and handswap wips that are share-ready save for previews.

Oh and also: I got a new puppy! She's a 3-and-a-half-months-old Jack Russel mix and the main culprit for the abovementioned lack-of-time for simming. The cute lil' attention hog wants ALL the cuddles! "PC time? What PC time? Pet me instead, hooman!"

Everyone, this is Lucy!

Other things of note in my life, in no particular order:

We've had relatives from Croatia visiting last week with their kids. The kids are super smart and super cute but with the energy levels of a medium-sized nuclear reactor. It's been fun.

I finally went to see a Rammstein concert!!! 🤯 The experience of a lifetime, holy shit. I literally have no words to describe how mesmerizing that stage was. Like, I shit you not, I have 3 GBs worth of concert footage.

Speaking of metal: Gojira KILLED IT at the Olympics Opening! Also: Turkish Shooter Guy and Norwegian Muffin Man are living rent-free in my head. I'm the worst, I only follow professional sports for the memes.😆

I've been moved to a new division at work and am currently sitting in a small office with the two biggest goobers in the entire institution. Between that and me finally having accumulated enough knowledge + experience to have a clue what I'm doing, work's been pretty stress-free for once.

Conversely, my colleagues from the old division are struggling due to lack of staff, too much work, mismanagement, internal strife, and pressure from both within and outside the institution. I feel so bad for them, but at the same time, a selfish part of me is grateful that I'm not there to suffer the shitshow on my own hide.

I have unanswered asks from (probably) months ago and am Very Ashamed of the fact. I'll get back to you guys, I promise! 😰

#text post #non sims #personal #rl

101 notes · View notes

kgymstlle · 8 months ago

Text

just saying

post college au / suna rintarou x fem! reader

— you should leave him cause it really makes me sick!

"i just washed that." suna says as you cry on his living room pillow. you continue to do so though, and upon pulling back, the pillow had stains of mascara where your eyes had been seconds ago.

"sorry." you apologize, rubbing the fabric with the sleeve of your sweater. "you do realize you're making it worse, right?"

you immediately stop. "i'm sorr—"

"apologize one more time and i'll kick your ass out of my apartment." he cuts you off. sure it was harsh, but suna has always been this way. it was all in good faith though— he cares about you a lot, really, but being all soft and using a gentle tone wasn't exactly something he was good at, even if he tried really hard to. tough love, if you will.

feeling suna's piercing gaze, you bring your eyes to meet his. "what did he do this time?"

"he broke up with me." for the nth time, suna thought.

tears voluntarily rolled down your face yet again, and all you heard in response from the boy was a sigh. he wanted to say i told you so— you're better off without him. and with me instead...? shit. he's still inlove with you.

but he's your best friend. exactly. therefore he knows you better, and he'll treat you better. it makes him sick. he thinks you should leave your no-good-(ex)boyfriend for good, and not get back together within a week of calling it quits like the continuous, year long cycle you're stuck in.

"we fought. we were on a date, but he made me pay...said he forgot his wallet at home. he also arrived pretty late."

a total loser, suna thought. you were already struggling to earn a living and despite being aware of this he's still squeezing every penny you have left. that bastard barely takes you out too— come on, the flag is practically waving crimson. i would never do that to you though, the boy thought as he stared at your distraught state.

you paused for a while. "he texted me an hour before i got here. he says that he still loves me." bullshit. suna thought. he knows that son of a bitch is cheating on you. that man knows how to fabricate his words, lying to you since the very beginning. when you gushed about your ex's big house and how he lives all alone, it was quickly debunked when suna drove by that said house by chance... and saw a woman through the window which he later found out was the jerk's mother. he never told you that though, to save you from the embarrassment.

"you don't need him, y/n."

surprised by his words, you tilt your head. "wow. i know you mean well rinrin, but...wow."

exactly. i mean well. i'll also help you get over it— wait, is this still right? the boy shook his head. keep it together, rintarou.

"just saying." he muttered in response, eyeing your next move. you roll your eyes. "anyway, i think i've come to the realization that i've overreacted quite a bit— he did have a very tiring day... and i was so pushy that it probably irritated him."

for the love of god you need to stop blaming yourself for every inconvenient thing that happens. you stand up and wipe your now dry face with your sleeve to remove the smudged makeup. this is the part where suna sighs, he knows you're going to fall right back into your ex's trap.

you fix your composure and hug suna.

"thanks, rinrin. for always putting up with me and my problems." for you? always. he thought. with a few taps on your phone, you slip it into your pocket and head to the door. he already knows what you're about to do.

"when you change your mind, i'll be waiting." you hear him behind you, still seated in the living room couch. you nod at him and smile. "mhm. thanks rinrin, i owe you one."

when you shut the door, suna puts his hand on his forehead and sighs. "i'll be waiting." he repeats. cause after all, he's better than your ex will ever be.....just saying.

#haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna haikyuu #suna x reader #haikyu x reader #fem reader #5sos #anime #oneshot #Spotify

49 notes · View notes

turbulentscrawl · 1 year ago

Note

Could I get an Aesop, Norton and Kevin with a S/O who gets turned into a hunter because they learned too much? Like. Their Significant other was always very enthusiastic about discovering secrets and stuff, and they started acting off because they discovered something BAD. And within a month or so. They moved officially to the hunter manor? 🙏

If that's too much, feel free to ignore or decline!

I put my own spin on this, i hope you don't mind! This is SFW but going under the cut because it plays into the horror aspect of the game. Also, I don't have the time to whip up a kevin header currently and don't have the patience to wait on posting this....so I'll get his made and added later!

Warnings: body horror, angst

The worst part of it all is that you can’t even remember the reason for it all.

You were a seeker, a searcher, always nosing into places and subjects you didn’t belong. You craved to know the world’s secrets and that included the manor’s. You spent long hours, days, weeks, investigating the manor’s records, the histories of its inhabitants, obtaining the aid of…some horrific woman. A veritable snake. She told you something. Something bad…. Something that ruined you from the inside out, necrosing its way through every cell.

The changes come slowly at first, and painfully. Your muscles and joints would ache. Your head would throb. Your bones would move on their own, shifting and stretching inside your tearing meat. You drowned in darkness, and suffocated in blinding lights. The worst moments of your life came to you again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again! Again!

And when all the pain finally melted away, you were different. The friendly faces around you were once your enemies. Your own face was that of a lion, and the original of it staring back was the clueless lamb.

Aesop

-He showed little interest in your “search for answers.” He wants to understand everything better too, true, but even the detective sorts among you had found few answers. Orpheus, Alice, Naib…. No offense to you, of course, I’m just saying he wasn’t be holding his breath….

-But far be it from this recluse to stop you. He of all people understands what it means to hyperfocus on your work. Work is familiarity, truth, and on some level he can imagine how a tangled mystery might be as comfortable to you as a corpse is to him. They both reveal truths in indirect ways.

-Because of your busybody separation from one another during this time, he likely doesn’t notice the changes right away. He probably finds out from someone else about the aches and pains you’ve been having, the sweats, fever, and all without a match in the records to explain them away. People didn’t get sick in the manor, yet somehow you inexplicably were.

-Then you sleep. For days. You’re still enough that Aesop almost feels like he’s watching over one of his 'normal' patients, like he should be doing your makeup. He’s calm, but checks for your pulse and breathing a lot. That’s when he notices you crying in your sleep.

-And things only go downhill from there. Aesop is generally level-headed, but there’s something about your aura that begins to disturb him. He refuses to leave, to abandon you when something is obviously wrong, but you go more and more still under his watchful eyes. You stop breathing, your skin goes pallid, but blood is still hot in your veins—he gives your thumb a pinprick to be sure of it. Your pillow is always wet because you won’t stop silently crying.

-On a whim one day, he decides to check your eyes. He collapses to the ground when he realizes the sockets are empty and raw. He runs from your room then, and when Emily returns to investigate your body is gone.

-The next day, you return in perfect condition. Healthy, though confused, and with no memory of that last several weeks of pain. You both had a match the next day, and Aesop decided he would focus on protecting you above anything else.

-But the Hunter was new. Eerie, unspeaking, blind…and cried ceaselessly. Aesop was frozen in genuine fear when the other you lumbered by him, choking on pained sobs, perhaps in search of your old peace.

Norton

-He told you from the beginning that it was a bad idea. Norton was not an educated man but he had sense—and experience—enough to know when paranormal shit was not to be trifled with. He still had nightmares about that eye….

-But you went on ahead with your business anyway. He let you, albeit while watching his back a whole lot more. Isolating. Swallowing his dread. You remind him of his mistakes before you even make them.

-He doesn’t think much of your first symptoms. Norton gets sore sometimes, and feels ill. The Black Lung never did leave him, and some days he handles it worse than others. You have nothing like that, though, and after several days of persisting discomfort he remembers that fact and sends you to Emily. She’s as perplexed as him though, and that makes him feel even more nervous.

-He also doesn’t notice for a while that you’ve stopped talking about your search entirely. He asks you about it once, when he catches you staring at the wall in a daze, and feels like a knife pierces his lung when you say you don’t have the faintest clue what he’s talking about.

-He keeps catching you like that. Paralyzed in a particular spot. Watching things, unblinking. When you come to, you don’t remember what you were doing. Your memory starts go slip away like Luca’s does, but somehow it’s more severe. You remember who you are, who he is, but everything else is gone. Some evenings he practically has to spoon feed you dinner because the concept of silverware and food have escaped you.

-Paranoid of what it all means, Norton starts to stay with you at night. But he gets no sleep during those times because all night you moan in pain. When Norton wraps his arms around you for comfort, he wears he feels your muscles twisting and undulating under your skin.

-Norton does not remember the last time he’s screamed, but he did the day after you finally seemed better. After he finally started to relax again. He was decoding in the top floor of the hospital when he heard that familiar moaning coming from below. He freezes at the sound, and when he looks over his shoulder he sees a twisted, stretched figure crawling up through the gaping hole in the floor. He knows the hair, the voice, but nothing else is you.

-And he screams, backed up against the cipher like a cornered animal. Never in his life has he not tried to run for his life, but when this Hunter of you locks eyes with him he can’t. He can’t run from what he didn’t fight harder against. Even when facing Fool’s Gold—himself—he’s never felt so much like a failure.

Kevin

-He’s always known he lacks your foresight. Kevin can’t begin to suspect the truth of things like this place. The sprawling vastness of it, he doesn’t trust himself to comprehend the complexity, the darkness. But you? Well, even if this it all a bit eerie, he’s got faith in your intelligence.

-He plays closer attention to you than the other two. The second you start to look off, he tasks notice. He sees the obsession in your face, the dark bags under your eyes, the way your nose digs deeper into things than before. You become…pushier with people.

-Kevin suggests you take a break, but you wave him off. You’re onto something, you say, and just need a little more understanding before everything unravels. He doesn’t like that word. “Unravel.”

-Which is perhaps a premonition, because it’s a great word to describe what happens to you. When you’re awake—and you are awake for irrationally long hours—you seem positively mad. You whisper to yourself in words that don’t sound human. He catches “Hastur” among them a few times, and “Witch” but once again his own comprehension fails.

-And when you sleep, you scream. The fist few nights it happened, he and a few others came running from down the hall and roused you. You didn’t remember the terrors. Night after night it happened, the response dwindling until it was just Kevin abandoning his own sleep to help you from whatever was terrifying you in your sleep.

-Then, you stopped waking up. He tried everything! Water, those smelling salts Emily had. Nothing would wake you and you just kept screaming, screaming, screaming like you were being dissected in your bed. After three days of not sleeping himself, Kevin carried your thrashing form to the infirmary. He was horrified when Emily suggested restraining and gagging you, but he had no other ideas himself. He slept in the chair nearby for what felt like weeks.

-And one day it all stopped. Kevin woke up, cracked his stiff neck, and noticed you were gone from your restraints. Emily was as confused as he was, but before the panic could build you emerged from your own bedroom, right as rain.

-He pulled you aside and cried in your arms until he passed out himself.

-The next match, though, started his own series of nightmares. Only a few minutes in he heard that scream. That blood-curdling wail that had been seared into his memory. It paralyzed him, and everyone else, on the spot. And then the vestige of your suffering appeared. Dark, shivering, voice raw and pained. The new Hunter that rounded the corner was undeniably you, and Kevin was sure he’d never know another peaceful day again.

#idv x reader #identity v #aesop carl x reader #kevin ayuso x reader #norton campbell x reader #idv prospector #idv embalmer #idv cowboy #turbulentscrawl

253 notes · View notes

taradactyls · 6 months ago

Text

Progress of Janeuary Prompts and Chapter 43 of Trying to Tread Water

*Edit*

CHAPTER 43 IS UP

8/02/25 Update

Chapter 43 of T3W: As of right now, it's at 8.2k words (almost all of that increase was done within the last few days) and I'm in the home stretch! Between the illness and general busyness it's taken longer than I wanted (and I forgot to post an update last week because of it) but all that's past now so I fully expect it to be posted next week.

I was hoping to get it up looong before Valentine's Day but I suppose there's something fitting about that seeing as it follows directly on from Chapter 42. They're almost part a and b of the same chapter, so it might be a good idea to reread (at least the ending) of it just before this next one comes out. I should also start seriously considering getting the 'what if was smut' and higher-rated bonus/extended scenes into an uploadable state but I won't really worry about that until at least this chapter goes up because my brain is noisy enough right now.

Janeuary: No major updates here, since everything has been jotting down notes and planning. I've also been persuaded, by popular demand, to give 'Dear Lady Catherine' two more chapters to show the crucial moments of how that story unfolds, so that's been added to the to-do list. Everything's going to be uploaded intermittently whenever I finish them even though Janeuary's technically over, since the event still allows late submissions and these little plot bunnies won't leave my head until they're typed out.

I hope you're all doing well and thank you for following up with me and being understanding! Hopefully I'll be giving you lots of goodies soon <3

24/01/25 Update

No real change from last week. I've been busy with the twins turning 3 (!!) and we currently all have a cold.

The Day 20 Janeuary prompt is probably closest to being posted, but when I finish it is heavily dependant on how fuzzy my head feels. Btw, I don't think any of the prompts will be done on the right day but they're all still going to be posted, regardless. I laugh in the face of due dates.

18/01/25 Update

Chapter 43 of T3W: I'm about 5k words in and it's going well. I might have to do some heavy rearranging of the second section depending on how the last goes but I don't think anything has to be scrapped so that word count should only be increasing.

Janeuary: Very behind but still working away (before anyone comes for me: I'm doing this during the times I can't work on T3W because I'm too tired or there's too many distractions and I have to keep pausing, etc. The proper fic requires significantly more brain power and care than quick one-shots).

Also:

I can only see one of these, so unless you sent me a Day 20 prompt about Kitty/Colonel Fitzwilliam (an update on that below) please resend your ask! I think the inbox ate some.

---------------------

Janeuary 2025 Prompts done so far:

Day 8: Cravat 'Elizabeth Overestimates her Ability to Tie a Cravat' - Rated G, 3k words, Elizabeth/Darcy, sweet, first kiss, post-canon.

Over the period of their engagement, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy take many long walks. During an unseasonably warm late October day, Mr Darcy loosens his cravat and removes his jacket. Elizabeth finds this a very educational experience. But when it comes time to put them back on, she cannot for the life of her figure out how to knot the cravat properly after insisting she do the honours.

“My dearest, and loveliest, Elizabeth,” he gently began. “You have no idea how to knot a cravat, do you?”

Also Day 8: Cravat 'Inappropriate Use of a Cravat'- Explicit, 6k words, Elizabeth/Darcy, author's first smut, the prompt was from the wildest ask I have ever received but I made it seem normal, smut, established relationship, post-canon, the cravat is part of the smut.

After an absence of some weeks, Mr Darcy and Elizabeth are very eager to be alone together and don’t even make it to the bedroom. As it’s been a while, Mr Darcy doesn’t think he’ll hold out very long if Elizabeth keeps lavishing attention down there – so she ties his cravat around the base of his shaft, to prevent an early end to their enjoyment.

Her surprised gasp was silenced by his lips, her own eagerly parting as she tangled her hands into his hair to keep his face pressed to hers. Pushing Mr Darcy against the wall – door – something, she melted against him, his hands digging into her waist, revelling in the taste and feel of her. “I missed you,” she said again, drawing back to kiss a line down his throat, “so much.”

Day 11: Card Playing Artwork- Which is the banner of...

'A Losing Hand' - Rated G, 2.9k words, Elizabeth/Darcy, canon compliant, falling in love and FIGHTING it, banter, awkward flirting, unrequited crush.

Mr Darcy is falling in love with Elizabeth Bennet, and he is not best pleased about it. His pov of that enlightening card game in Chapter 8 of Pride and Prejudice when they discuss accomplished women.

Darcy could only look at her – the light challenge in her gaze, the slight smile that accompanied it. He could debate with her all day.

Day 16: Gossip 'Dear Lady Catherine' - Rated G, 4.2k words, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley, Canon divergence, Lady Catherine is in peak form, and facing someone who's allowed to argue back, Character development, Speedrunning Darcy's realisations, Self-reflection

Following the Netherfield Ball, Mr Collins happily gossips in a letter to Lady Catherine that her that her nephew may be on the verge of matrimony… to Miss Bingley. He overheard his cousins talking of the lady’s attentions and quite misconstrued everything. Lady Catherine, as incensed as she could ever be, goes to confront her nephew in London… and arrives in the middle of the ‘Why You Should Not Marry Jane Bennet’ intervention.

Yelling ensues. And maybe more than one instance of self-reflection.

In which Mr Collins has the sacred duty of sharing gossip he wasn’t supposed to know; Lady Catherine is of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use; Miss Bingley learns what all her attempts to secure Mr Darcy’s affections have amounted to; and Mr Darcy himself is full of pride and confronted with his hypocrisy.

---------------------

Janeuary Prompts in progress/ideas:

Day 13: Christian Name - A few people wondered what Darcy was really thinking in Chapter 42 of T3W when he was talking about how he imaged Elizabeth calling him Fitzwilliam:

“How did you imagine it?” she enquired with a frown. Mr Darcy blushed a deep crimson. “Mostly, mere casual use.”

And I thought that made a great prompt for trying my hand at some more smut.

Day 20: Dearest - An anon sent a prompt for some Kitty/Colonel Fitzwilliam Fluff, and since I've never considered them before it was a fun exercise to think about how that would work! I started a draft of it as I worked out some ideas so this will definitely be happening.

Day 27: Cousins - Toying with the idea of doing a sweet glimpse of 5 or so years into the future, featuring little Bingleys and Darcys. Not sure if that's something anyone's interested in though.

Day 29: Carriage - A missing scene from Pride and Prejudice featuring Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam

Day 30: Garden - Another Pride and Prejudice missing scene with Darcy's pov of something Elizabeth mentions in passing.

#turns out when I'm not worrying about story and character arcs and keeping consistent tone and narrative purpose etc etc #I write like a mad thing #I've written over 22k words (not including what's been deleted) in under two weeks #I turn off my brain and just let the movie in my head run as I desperately try to type fast enough to keep up #have I sometimes been too inspired and forgotten to sleep at a reasonable time?#MAYBE #but it's great to be doing little things that I don't have to think too deeply about and replenish my creativity #fanfiction #ao3

35 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

Text

Master of Me

Not totally sold on the name for the fic maybe I'll change it midway through typing this and forget to take this sentence out haha! Short little fic because TADC is on my mind, probably only going to be slightly longer than my other posts... we will see! Notes: Reader is GN, Gummigoo and the reader are not dating but they are close friends, AU where Gummi was allowed to stay at the circus, comfort fic, limited dialogue, reader doesn't remember anything about their life before joining the circus. like nothing at all. not proof read we die like kaufmo CWs: Gummigoo is still struggling to fully come to terms with the fact that he is just an NPC- really it's just some angst Word count: 1.3k

No one ever said it was going to be easy, and he didn't expect it to be easy. Nor did he expect it to come fast... but he had hoped that within the weeks after joining the circus it would become more bearable. It.. had.. but he wasn't making as much progress as he had hoped. Some days were better than others, where the thought that everything he knew was a lie didn't cross his mind. Other days it hit him hard enough to keep him holed up in bed.

You had been kind enough to share your room with him, Caine had yet to make a room for the new circus member- whether he didn't want to or he couldn't you weren't sure. You tried your best to give the gator some room so he can gather himself on his own time, opting to wander around the circus until it was time to go to bed. Sometimes he would even join you, allowing you to show him the grounds. It was all so different from what he knew in the desert, though... those were all false memories too, weren't they?

Today had been one of those days, that left him too shaken to get up and join the others during the day's adventure. You told the others to go along without you. Everyone but Zooble left, but it's not like they were going to step in to help you pull Gummigoo out of his mind- though they did surprise you by showing some level of support through the form of wishing you luck.

He didn't have the key to your room, so he couldn't lock himself in. Not that he would if he could- he was grateful that you had given him the space, but he would feel terrible for taking it a step too far.

The lights were dimmed, you could just barely see his form sat at the edge of your bed. You noted how the lights looked against the material of his body. If you squinted, you could see small specks of sugar within his lemon lime body. He had noticed you, but didn't say much aside from a short apology- did you need something? Was he in the way? He was about to get up before you stopped him and sat next to him.

"What's going on with you," You asked, though as soon as the words had left your mouth you felt stupid for asking. You knew exactly what was going on, sure you may not know what set him off in particular or what part he's focusing on... but you still knew enough. You watched his white eyes narrow at the floor, as if it was the most interesting thing to him. He sighed after a moment, and lifted his head to stare at you. He was missing his mother today, or at least his idea of her.

"Nothing really happened, did it?" He muttered, referencing everything he could gather from his memories. That seemed to only make things worse, though, seeing as they were all so... limited. Artificial. False. "Oh god, none of it happened, did it?" He added after a few more struggled words clawed their way through his teeth. You sucked on your teeth as you tried to find the right words to say. For a terrifying moment you wondered if NPCs would abstract- what if you said the wrong thing and triggered it?

The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

"It was real to you, wasn't it?"

Silence, and he whipped his head to stare at you before pulling his eyes back down.

"It may not have been... real... but they're still your memories, it's still... who you were originally meant to be- you know?" You added, but that didn't seem to help. "I wasn't supposed to find out, I know that much," He said lowly. He sounded angry, but it didn't sound like it directed at you exactly.

Suddenly he looked at you, with enough speed and intensity to make you jump just a bit and scoot back to avoid his snout. "But you don't remember anything from before you came to this... place.."

You only nodded, when you had joined the circus you actually remembered less than the other members- you didn't even remember putting on the headset that brought you here. To you, it was like you simply spawned into existence. You remembered how terrifying that was, how you seemingly came to and had to build everything up with what you were given.

"Just like you... kind of..." You whispered, and with a look he urged you to continue. "You don't remember much of anything from before you... tried to steal the syrup. You hit a.. block.. when you try to remember anything before that. You had... nothing, not to sound like what's happening to you doesn't matter any less.." You trailed off, then attempted to regain yourself. "You..." but your words failed.

"How did you make it work, didn't you ever want to return back to what you had before.. Before.." He stopped. "I almost want to go back, wouldn't that be easier?" He stared down at his hands, a habit you noticed that he picked up. He bunched his fingers together before relaxing them, before tensing them again.

"It was hard at first, for me too.. but," You chewed your tongue. It felt like it was plastic. "I got to make new memories," You managed to spit out. Gummigoo went silent, looking you in the eyes for a long moment before seeming to understand.

"You can't change what's happening, what's.. happened.. or what you were before- regardless of if it actually happened. You're in control now, and you're free to make your own choices now!" You offered a half smiling, hoping you had said the right thing. "It's not exactly like what I went through, I'm not from the digital world, and you are.. but, we were both new to this at some point,"

Quiet.

Then he laughed. He actually laughed, albeit weakly and airily. He shook his head lightly, tugging his hat down before taking a deep breath through his nose. "You're not wrong about that, (Reader)," He let his body relax. He was far from okay, but he was seeming to even out now.

He looked at you again, once more in the eyes. You forced yourself to maintain the contact, before he pulled his face away. His eyes scanned over the room, taking in everything they could see. "I'm in control now, am I?" He said to himself, his hand relaxing as he spoke. He lowered his head a little, before his mouth stretched into a smile. "If I'm going to carve my own path, I'm glad that you've given me the tools," He flicked a glance to you, "I'd be happy if you stuck around,"

You only smiled, before nodding. "Bit hard, since you've stolen my bed! We're stuck together already!"

You pulled another laugh out of him, this time it was a little stronger. "I can't argue with that, I do get rather sticky do I?" He smirked. "You don't have a choice of helping me, if you even think of stepping away I'm going to glue you to me," He joked. He was returning to his usual self, slowly.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," You shot back earning a third laugh.

You could hear the sounds of the rest of the circus returning from their adventure. Had you both been talking for that long? Had that much time passed. You looked to Gummigoo, it didn't feel right leaving him here alone after the conversation you had just had together... so you had decided to stay.

At least for now, for as long as he needed you to stick around.

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #tadc x you #tadc imagine #the amazing digital circus x you #the amazing digital circus imagine #digital circus x you #digital circus imagine #gummigoo x reader #gummigoo x you #gummigoo imagine #gummygoo x reader #gummygood x you #gummygoo imagine

118 notes · View notes

blurbfics · 9 months ago

Text

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part ten]

Summary: A message is sent and Azriel learns that Eowyn doesn't know how to swim.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: angst, insecurities, implicit jealousy, description and talk of scars, talk of past self-harm, daddy issues, mind-intrusion (learn to ask first, Rhys), Elain. (on a lighter note: sexual tension, fluff, nosy cassian, idiots in love but they don't know it yet)

Minors, do not interact.

a/n: helloo i hope there's still someone interested in my emo babies! sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, i'm traveling out for a wedding next week so i've been scrambling to get all my last minute things for my trip BUT hopefully this chapter makes up for it. i already have the next few written out so i'll probably post again soon (don't hold me to it, i still need to edit)

part nine

masterlist

"If it's all in my head, there's nothing to fear

Nothing to fear inside

Through the darkness and the light

Some sun has got to rise"

Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Despair

Elain was here.

Granted, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her. She was visiting the High Lady unannounced and uninvited after all, and Elain had more reason than anyone else to visit Feyre, yet it wasn’t exactly surprise at the fact in itself. It was a surprise at the defensiveness with which Eowyn regarded her.

Try as she might, she simply couldn’t shake off the feeling of irritation that the sweet female produced within Eowyn.

She’d been shown inside the parlor room by Nuala and Cerridwen; the High Lady was at her side immediately with a grin as she welcomed her inside. As she had done with the High Lord, Eowyn apologized profusely for showing up unannounced but admitted she felt rather guilty for making the High Lady travel all the way to the library whenever they got together, and felt it necessary to visit her for once, taking advantage of the Illyrians’ summons.

But the ever generous Feyre only waved her off and assured her she was always welcomed before playfully chastising her for curtsying as a greeting as she’d come to do the past few times, now a playful act more than anything, before introducing her to her older middle sister, Elain.

Eowyn found her feet glued to the floor as the beautiful fae rose from her seat and greeted her shyly with a sweet and kind countenance that was so pure and… unsullied, that Eowyn found it hard to look at her for long. She had only heard whispers of her beauty, both from the wind and from other faes that had witnessed her unblemished features themselves, but she’d never been face to face with the sweetest of the Archeron sisters.

She had, however, heard other things about the fae.

Heard that at first, she’d rejected any sign of courtship from Lucien, half brother of the heir to the Autumn Court, and the heir of the Day Court himself; she heard, primarily from Gwyn, that she’d turned her attention to the Shadowsinger and encouraged a brief fling before settling for the one Cauldron-intended for her. She’d heard she was a Seer and that she’d correctly predicted the path Feyre Oathbreaker was meant to take before any of them could correctly decipher her visions, although that she’d learned from the wind and the voices in the water instead.

She knew much about the middle Archeron sister. So much that she knew the young fae, despite her mistakes and the hardships she’d faced, truly was as unsullied and perfect as she seemed.

It made something ugly coil inside her, a feeling she’d never had before, even in the days when any sort of emotion beyond the superficial wasn’t completely foreign.

Despite their pleasant introductions and the cup of tea the High Lady had insisted on pouring for Eowyn, she found she felt entirely out of place as the sisters chatted lightly. Regret began to churn in her stomach for her impulsiveness, making her feel anxious.

She took in three deep breaths and held onto it for six counts, before softly blowing it out for another count of six. She repeated the breathing technique twice more as she settled into herself, opening her awareness to her surroundings before bringing it unto herself, assessing both the negative and the positive emotions battling within her before letting them go.

“But oh Feyre, you should just see these libraries! They’re twice the size of the library in the mountain and they’re just magnificent! Helion gave us a tour himself and said most of the furnishings and the chandelier in the main hall are made of real gold,” Elain gushed, licking powdered sugar off her thumb from the baked goods she’d made herself.

Finding it a safe topic Eowyn could contribute to, she nodded along to her words understandingly, “it is quite grand,” she agreed.

“Oh, you’ve been?” Feyre asked curiously, causing Elain to turn her attention to her, eyes wide and searching and so full of life.

Eowyn looked away and cleared her throat, “yes, I… lived in the Day Court for awhile. I know the libraries and Helion’s Court well.”

“Are you two friends?” Elain tilted her head.

“Sure, although colleagues is probably a more accurate term” Eowyn chuckled at her earnestness. It was conflicting, this feeling within her. Finding the young fae innocent and enchanting but simultaneously finding herself equally plagued by an anger that was undeservedly projected onto Elain. She felt strangled by the self-conscious feeling that she was too big, too dark, too much, to be around someone who was only in the first stages of adulthood and was only just finding herself in the world.

She inhaled deeply and once again let go of the smoking darkness within her, forcing her attention once more to the topic at hand. “The libraries,” she said abruptly, “you said Helion gave you a tour?” At her confirming nod she continued, “he must’ve told you the histories, then, I imagine. Helion’s quite the established storyteller.”

“Oh yes! He told us of the First Scholars who spent centuries building the libraries that supposedly form a great circle around the heart of the Court. I can’t quite imagine spending so much of your lifetime determined to build all those beautiful temples. It’s truly impressive, what they accomplished, I think,” she spoke animatedly with a pleasant smile, reaching over for her tea.

“Well they surely didn’t have a hard time at it,” Eowyn chuckled, although there was little amusement in her voice. “The First Scholars loved taking all the credit for ‘funding’ those sanctuaries but always failed to give credit where it was due.”

When both the High Lady and her sister looked at her with owlishly confused eyes, Eowyn swallowed. “Well… Helion must’ve told you all our great pieces of architecture, including the Day Court’s grand libraries, were built by enslaved human laborers?” Feyre immediately nodded in understanding, clearly having heard that part of the histories while Elain only stared at her in horror.

Eowyn felt uneasy, and the way the young fae looked at her didn’t make her feel any less like a wild feral animal trampling through a thin crystal box.

“This was way before our time, of course,” she tried to mend the stricken look on Elain’s face and the concern on Feyre’s as she gently placed a hand on her sister’s arm. “It’s cruel ancient history and unpleasant to talk about,” she continued, as she felt she just couldn’t leave the words alone, “but it’s also history that cannot be forgotten lest we be tempted to repeat our mistakes.”

“And we won’t,” Feyre assured.

Looking at her High Lady then, Eowyn noticed with relief that she didn’t seem altogether displeased by her revelation.

“Yes, you’re quite right,” Elain agreed in a small voice, her face still pale with anxiety. “I suppose Helion must’ve avoided that part of his lesson for my sake,” she tried to smile, but it came out shy and perhaps a little forced, “you see, I’ve had a harder time at adjusting to fae life than my sisters,” she confessed something Eowyn had detected the second she walked into the room.

Although Elain had the features and the small slender body of a picturesque perfect female fae, there was something inherently human about her. It was an almost undetectable but ever present sort of foreignness to her actions, almost stilted whereas even Feyre and Nesta had mastered the fae way of effortless swiftness.

That wasn’t to say she was clumsy, she was simply very human-like, much more than her sisters. It was part of her charm.

Despite her sympathy for the girl, however, she found she wasn’t sure how to act around her. Even the priestesses in the library, who had suffered through all kinds of disgraces and tragedies didn’t feel quite as fragile as the former human girl.

“Is that something you still struggle with?” Eowyn couldn’t help but prod gently.

She believes she knows his ire; she has only foreseen his betrayal.

She archived the whisper for later.

“Not as much,” Elain glanced at her sister and at her encouraging smile, continued, “my adjustment process has been quite slow but I’ve had plenty of support and company.”

“I imagine it can’t be easy at all,” Eowyn empathized genuinely, nodding a bit, “no one can reasonably expect you to be fine with transforming into a different species against your will within a decade, much less a year.”

Feyre nodded, squeezing Elain’s hand, “I didn’t have an easy time of it either. Even now, I still struggle to think of myself as anything other than human.”

“I suppose it should’ve been easier for me, having you and Nesta and Azriel at my side for so long,” Elain squeezed her hand back and as Feyre consoled her, lost in their heart-to-heart, neither sister noticed the way Eowyn’s spine straightened as she tensed. Her inhale was quiet but sharp and she could do nothing but hide her clenched fist under her robes, focusing on the faint sting of her nails digging into her flesh.

There was a shift in the air.

“And here I thought it was access to my gardens and kitchens that got you back onto your feet,” Rhys drawled as he stepped into the room, followed closely behind by the winged males.

Eowyn said nothing as Elain laughed and replied sweetly to the High Lord, standing up from her place on the sofa to greet Cassian with a hug. Tension bloomed in the room as she turned to Azriel. Stoic and unemotional male that he was, Azriel only stood in place as the blushing fae nervously turned to him.

“Hi,” she breathed lightly, her voice so petal soft and light that Eowyn had to bite her tongue to keep her mind focused on anything else.

“Hello,” he cleared his throat, mirroring Cassian’s forward lean into what was the beginning of a hug. Faltering but quickly finding herself, she hugged him back, if perhaps a little longer than she did Cassian.

Clearing her mind of all thoughts, Eowyn turned her eyes away from the scene to find not only the High Lord and Lady observing her intently, but also the General, who ridiculously began to whistle as he snapped his gaze away when her eyes met his, pretending he hadn’t been staring.

While Feyre observed her with curiosity— the kind sparked by a freshly shared piece of gossip that you know just might continue to unfold before you— the High Lord’s gaze was different, not unkind but still calculating.

She couldn’t help it. She quirked an eyebrow at him in challenge.

She was no stranger to the threat of intrusion into her mind, but as she felt the cold long talons of the High Lord brush against the fortress of her mind, she shivered at the sheer power behind such a light tap. Strikingly, she wasn’t sure how or what she did to nudge back at the brushing talons with a teasing caress of her own, as if tickling the underside of the invisible large shadowed claw.

The action seemed to surprise even the High Lord who squirmed slightly as his eyes widened at her and it was the shock of whatever that reaction had been that allowed for her walls to drop for a fraction of a second before she reinforced them again.

But that second was enough, for as their eyes met, there was something there they both understood— a kindred feeling of someone who had known violence, of someone who understood abuse in a form that was beyond physical. It was the understanding of a survivor that lived both despite and in spite of what had been done to them but now wanted a life to reflect only the best of them, rather than remain drowned in a cycle of existential dread.

She understood him at a deeper level then, and his engagement with the priestesses and the library. Understood why he was so accommodating and encouraging for any and all projects the priestesses brought to him.

“Are you ready to leave?” Azriel pulled her away from her intense eye contact with the High Lord, standing beside her on a chair, directly in front of their hosts, their sister, and the General.

“Yes,” she nodded and stood to follow after him, thanking the High Lord and Lady for having her, if perhaps uninvited (to which they promised she was welcomed at any time, and then playfully chastised her once again for curtsying at them in respect), and calling out pleasantries and farewells as Azriel practically dragged her away.

As she was thanking her hosts, however, she noticed that Elain’s eyes remained glued to the Shadowsinger; they followed the movement of his arm as he lightly placed his hand on Eowyn’s waist to pull her towards the door, but snapped back up to meet hers when she felt her gaze, widening ever so slightly when they met Eowyn’s, for she was sure, that in that fraction of a second, she had effectively conveyed a clear-cut message to the middle Archeron sister: back off.

Elain visibly shuddered from her spot on the sofa.

Eowyn couldn’t hold back her smug smirk when she crossed the threshold, easily keeping in step with Azriel as they walked out to the balcony.

“I take it you didn’t have to go on a mission right now?” She asked him as soon as they were out of earshot.

“No,” he said distractedly, “what did Rhys say to you?”

She tilted her head in confusion, “weren’t you there?”

“In your head,” he clarified, eyebrows furrowing and she noticed for the first time that he was quite agitated. “Did he go inside your mind without permission?”

“I don’t think he meant to?” The way it came out as a question had her quickly adding, “he didn’t try very hard if he did. I didn’t let him in.” Not the complete truth, but also not a complete lie. It was…strange, that interaction. It wasn’t that she allowed him to read her thoughts, it was that her mind was always so replete with thoughts and information and in such a flurry of awareness of so much around her, that all he got was an overall feel of her. Just as she did him.

“I’ll tell him not to try it again,” he grumbled, yet her response seemed to pacify him enough. Once they made it to the balcony he turned to her, suddenly thoughtful. “I was thinking...” She only tilted her head at him, allowing him time to speak the words on his mind. “Can I ….take you somewhere?”

She startled at that. Questions sprang up in her mind in a rush of: where? Why? How far? How long would they be out? Did she need to go back to the library and get a thicker cloak for the crisp chill in the air?

But as soon as she glanced up and met his hazel eyes, saw a mirroring flurry of thoughts and information behind his honey dipped leaf irises, all questions vanished and she simply nodded.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, taking her brief silence as reluctance.

She raised an eyebrow at that, “should I be worried?”

“No,” he said immediately, then turned to look over the balcony at the city. “Although…I would have to winnow us there.”

Her eyebrow only arched higher, “is it not within flying distance?” she followed his gaze then turned to him quickly with an affronted gasp, jutting out a hip and resting her fist on it as she scoffed, “or are you saying I’m just too heavy to carry?”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched with a hint of a smile, “shut up and c’mere.”

She took a step towards him, and although she’d winnowed hundreds of times, both on her own and with others, she found she didn’t protest when he looked down at her from under a few rogue strands of hair and placed his hands on either side of her waist. She gasped ever so softly at the feel of his large warm hands circling her waist, the weight of his battle-worn marred hands somehow both exhilarating and comforting. Although there was no need for such contact to winnow, the act being sufficient with just a clasping of hands, she instinctively placed her own hands on his arms, firm and warm as they were under his leathers.

Her eyes never once left his.

“We’re here,” he spoke softly, and although she clearly heard his words it took her much too long for her to register its meaning.

“So soon?” The words left her mouth before she could think it, only realizing how blunt they were when he actually chuckled softly and the prettiest shade of pink appeared on the bridge of his nose.

She pulled away from him then to take in her surroundings, the first thing she noticed being that they were definitely not in Velaris, yet as she went to look around found herself restricted by his hands still holding firmly onto her waist.

He immediately dropped his hands yet she didn’t linger on the strange empty lightness she felt, as if he had been the sole thing anchoring her to the ground.

The lightness lingered as she twirled around, taking in the sight of trees and… well, more trees.

“Where are we?” She asked as she inhaled deeply, immediately soothed by the scent of unsullied nature allowed to grow without intervention from fae or human hands. Despite the lack of paths seen anywhere, he clearly knew these woods well considering he’d winnowed them straight into a small clearing.

“In the Illyrian woods, under a few of its older mountains.” She felt his eyes on her, yet rather than feeling self-conscious and restricted, she felt strangely free and like something within her flourished.

She hadn’t been fully surrounded by nature in so long. It was more liberating than anything she’d felt before, even the sanctuary of her greenhouse and beloved library.

“What are we doing here?” She turned to look at him to find his gaze already on her.

“I figured since you allowed me to go into your greenhouse, it’s only fair I show you a place of my own,” he inclined his head to the side towards the trees and held out a hand to her. She took it, marveling at the way his strong hand gently curled around hers.

She thought about his words as she followed him through the trees, not finding herself even the slightest bit frightened or apprehensive. It was dangerous, she thought absentmindedly, how willing she was to follow this male through the ends of the earth.

“An exchange?” She wondered as she digested his words, “what exactly did you take from my showing you the greenhouse?” She asked with an incredulous chuckle.

He stopped and twisted only slightly to look at her, beckoning her with his head to step in front of him. She followed his nonverbal queue, hand still grasping his as she lifted her skirts with her other hand as she stepped over the overgrown tree roots and ducked under branches.

“I got to take in the sight of you in your most natural state,” he stated simply, never detaching his hand from hers but using the other to push the intervening branches away from her to walk through.

With a swiftness born naturally only to a fae who’d grown up amongst nature, she twirled in a single step to look at him, eyes seeking any form of taunt or teasing before lifting his arm above her head to allow her to circle around and step forward with the other foot without losing momentum in her step, finding nothing in his tone or eyes that signaled to any form of mocking.

She remained silent for a while, considering his words and wondering where he would take them. The whispers that came to her were different from those she constantly heard at the House of Wind. Whereas the winds of Velaris carried with them brief declarations or fragments of words blown across the land that just so happened to make their way to her, the whispers among the trees were not intended for her to hear at all.

The ancient language of the trees cared not if she understood or even wanted to listen, yet as she listened to them murmur to each other she caught hints of long stories shared, all of them deep in overlapping conversation.

Soon, they broke through the line of trees to what seemed like the bottom of the mountains— a moss covered wall of rock that sprouted all kinds of flora she wanted nothing more but to inspect but turned to Azriel instead, tilting her head questioningly. “This is what you wanted to show me?” She tried not to sound judgmental but based on the quiet laugh that bubbled out of his chest, she failed to sound as excited as she meant to.

“Not quite,” his lopsided smirk spoke of his amusement. “You like puzzles, don’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “are we playing a game, Az?”

At his answering smirk, she turned back to the wall, suddenly determined to beat him at his own game but all she had to do was look at the wall. Truly look at it and the long strands of ivy and moss that covered it to notice the plants themselves served as a veil to the entrance of what looked like a cave.

“In there?” She turned to him only to find him smiling at her softly before he nodded. He stepped forward first, holding a hand out for her to take before stepping through the entrance of the cave and guiding her inside. It took her a second for her eyes to adapt to the darkness, but once they did she gasped in surprise at the sight before her.

The walls of the cave were a smooth crystalized black glass encrusted into the rock, and the absorbing light within it told her immediately that he’d taken her directly into an obsidian cave. Her surprise only heightened when she looked down to see what looked like a small black pool inside.

“What is this place?” She breathed.

“It’s the underside of an ancient volcano,” he spoke, quiet and still but so clear that she realized that the small gap in her mind that never fully filtered out the whispers in her day to day was completely silent. She couldn’t hear a single thing other than her own thoughts, the sound of their breathing, and the cool sound of his voice. “I thought maybe you’d like it,” he trailed off thoughtfully, “and maybe you’d be interested in going for a swim?”

“A swim?” her voice, only slightly louder than his, echoed through the dark cave, her voice bouncing off the walls going much further than the entrance where they stood. She cringed at the volume and ignored his amused huff before lowering her voice,“how big is this cave?”

He hummed in response, and with the curtain of ivy falling back over the gapped entrance, they were now encased in complete darkness. The cave was so dark that the only light shining was that of his cobalt blue siphons, which didn’t provide nearly enough light to illuminate the cave, especially once he began to take them off. “A few miles in.”

On any other occasion she would’ve balked at his response but she could do nothing but stand still as the sound of his undressing echoed within the cave walls. Suddenly, he stilled, “we can leave, if you don’t want to stay.”

As if that was what took her breath away. “I do,” she elongated the word, “my concern is, how exactly do you expect me to swim if I can’t even see my hand in front of me?”

“You don’t exactly swim with your eyes, do you?”

She glowered at him and he knew it despite the lack of light, if his small chuckle said anything.

“Look, if you don’t want to swim, you can sit on the edge of the rock here and dip your feet in, but I’m going in,” he stated plainly, sounding more animated than she’d ever heard him before in the most un-Azriel-like way.

She opened her mouth, either to ask him who he was and where the real Shadowsinger was, or to ask why he insisted that she touch the dark ominous water, but all words vanished at the realization that this was something important to him. He knew how meaningful the greenhouse was to her and he explicitly said he wanted to share something in kind.

This wasn’t a transactional relationship— friendship, she mentally corrected herself— despite their past exchanges. This was an act of trust and intimacy.

And Mother above, he was excited to show her this place. How can she deny him anything now? In all truth, she didn’t want to deny him anything.

“Where are you?” He called out from within the surface of the water and she startled slightly, realizing she’d been lost in her own mind.

“Here,” she replied immediately, taking a step towards his voice only to stumble over a few rocks before finding her footing. She reached out with her hands, using them instead of her eyes to gauge what was in front of her. As soon as she touched a larger rock, realizing it marked the edge of the dark pool of water.

“Careful,” he spoke and suddenly his hands found her as he held her on the edge of the water. “Here, let me..” He started but trailed off, wrapping one hand gently around her ankle, slowly and barely touching as if ready to pull away as soon as she spoke the words. She allowed him to continue, curious about his actions. Not taking her silence as consent, however, he stopped, “can I help you take your shoes off?”

She nodded, and almost smacked herself at her idiocy, before clearing her throat, “yes, that’s fine. Is- is the water deep?”

“Not here,” he assured her, “the further in you go, the deeper it is.”

Swiftly, he unlaced her boots and she braced her hands on his shoulders as he held her shin with one hand as he pulled the shoe away with the other and tossed it somewhere behind her, “hey!” She frowned looking over her shoulder at nothing, “how am I supposed to find it later?”

His small laugh was a little lighter, and she saw his face in her mind if not in front of her. Saw his eyes sparkle and crinkle at the sides as the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. “The shadows will take care of it.”

Oh, right. She forgot about them for a second.

“They must like it here as well,” she murmured, mostly to herself, picturing the amorphous dark creatures roaming every inch of the place at their discretion.

“They do,” he affirmed, “they were born here… or so they say.”

“Really?” She perked up at attention at that, letting go of his shoulders when he tossed her sock off for his shadows to catch.

Without second guessing herself, she took a step back and began to disrobe, starting with her veil.

She heard his breath hitch for a second, and she briefly wondered if he could see her before he spoke up. “They like to say that about every place they think is interesting,” he deadpanned, causing her to laugh.

Summoned by their conversation and her laugh, the shadows twirled through her hair before spinning around her, snatching each robe and layer from her every time she took something off.

Once she was down to her undergarments, she carefully stepped towards the edge of the water. She hesitated, “are you sure it’s not deep?”

“Positive,” his voice appeared near her yet she couldn’t determine where exactly. “Come here,” he murmured and reached out for her, touching her hands first and placing them on his shoulders once again.

“Oh,” she gasped when her feet touched the hot water, and quickly descended into the hot spring with his guiding hands. “Oh,” she repeated, this time in a pleasured breath. His chest rumbled with amusement once more, and she had half a mind to scold him for continuously laughing at her, but quickly dismissed the idea as she realized she’d never quite heard him laugh this much before.

It was quite a pleasant sound and in all truthfulness, it brought her a sense of pride and satisfaction at being the cause behind it.

That is, until he let go of her and she began to sink. Gasping, she scrambled for his arm once again when her feet didn’t touch the ground.

“You said it was shallow!” She screeched.

“It is,” he insisted, “I’m literally just standing right now.”

She waved her feet, searching for a bottom but could only briefly feel the ground with her toe. She scowled at him and his Illyrian bigness.

“I can’t reach the bottom” she gritted out.

“What’s the problem? Can’t you swim?”

At her pointed silence, he guffawed.

“Shut up,” she scolded, “I had more important things to do than learn how to swim.”

“It’s a basic life skill,” he continued to giggle. Giggle. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

“You said it wasn’t deep,” she defended herself, “now you’re going to have to pull me along.”

“Fine by me,” he grinned. She could hear it. Wrapping a strong arm around her waist, he pulled her along as he pushed off the shallow end of the hot spring into the depth of its pools. Feeling his powerful legs kick in a practiced rhythm to keep them both afloat, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist to keep her legs out of his way.

“Sorry,” she blushed, shimmying her hips away to pull her legs away from him.

“No,” the arm he had wrapped around her waist quickly stopped her in place, sliding down to her thigh and squeezing briefly to keep her close and shift her so she faced him completely, “stay like that.”

Something in her pulsed.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, and gingerly placed her hands on either side of his shoulders, trying to keep if only just a centimeter of distance between their bodies. But like magnets— and by the physical nature of water surrounding them, pushing at them— their bodies pressed against one another, unrelenting in their proximity.

“Hold on,” he spoke quietly, the only words of warning before he let go of her to use both of his firm arms to swim skillfully deeper within the dark depths of the hot spring. After a moment of his rhythmic movements, she relaxed and tilted her head back, allowing the bubbling hot water to submerge her hair and soothe her weary head.

Without intending to, she exhaled a soft breath of pleasure at the feeling of the hot water engulfing and massaging her skull, her mind deliciously empty and finally quiet.

Still, there was a string in the edge of her subconsciousness. A tickle of a feeling, a shy invitation. And after a long moment of well-deserved silence, she allowed the soft melodic voice on the edge of the water to fill her.

Pulling herself up straight, she wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders and hugged him.

“Are you alright?” He whispered, brushing his cheek with hers.

She nodded against his cheek so he could feel it, and with her eyes closed, now feeling nothing but the water surrounding them and him, she replied. “They were born here.”

He inhaled through his nose, “the Shadows? How do you know?”

Slowing down their swimming, he fell into a soft tread.

Her top lip brushed the lobe of his ear when she whispered, “the cave told me.”

He didn’t reply, and when she went to pull away— she didn’t know what for, it wasn’t like she could see him— he quickly pulled her back with a hand between her shoulder blades, his entire forearm somehow hotter than the water surrounding them. She shivered, feeling her very center tighten at the feeling of his fingers brushing the bare skin of her back and his cheek lightly nuzzling hers.

“You can hear it?” He asked, breathing heavily yet he sounded different. Stilted and gritting.

“The water,” she clarified, her body reacting to his before her mind could catch up.

Everything suddenly felt even more electric as she became aware of everything around her.

Her sense of touch, of feel and scent only heightened by the smothering of her sense of sight. She could hear him, hear his thundering heart and rapid breaths, could smell his anticipation and growing arousal. She could feel his desperate need, and feel the tension in the tendons of his broad solid shoulders under her hands, and the tightness of his body as her legs wrapped around him like a python catching its prey within its fatal hold.

But she could also sense his hesitation.

And that would not do.

“Az?” She murmured, and the sultry knowing voice that left her was not that of the seductive male-eating* fae she was before that. But it also wasn’t the voice of the apathetic and cold priestess. She was someone else entirely.

He melted under her touch and searched her face with his once again, pressing his cheek to hers before turning it to almost brush his lips against hers, but she shifted her own face away before he could, gliding her nose along his jaw before smiling against it, laughing lightly, “is the hot spring getting to you?” She tried to lighten the mood, yet the solid strength of him under her touch and the evidence of the tension between them affecting him as well made it hard for her to keep a leveled head.

He held his breath for a second, then exhaled a quick breath, shaking his head as if to clear it as well. “Shut up.”

She continued to hold on to him as he swam back to the shallow edge of the spring in silence, and she used that brief moment to replay their interaction in her mind. She was no meek and shy virgin. She had never shied away from her own sexuality, had never been truly coy unless it was tactful. She was no stranger to casual sex and a light play of sexual tension with acquaintances or those she liked spending time with— male or female— but she also hadn’t participated in any form of sex (or sex-adjacent acts) for well over half a century.

She had begun to think of that part of herself as extinct. Had even considered herself asexual, due to her lack of feel for anyone for such a long time.

Without her knowing, the winged bat male had sparked something feral within her and she didn’t like it one bit, despite how much she very much wanted to consume him whole.

But he was Gwyn’s male, for Cauldron’s sake! How long had she spent encouraging her friend to talk to him, how many hours had she spent gossiping with her in the libraries stairwells— getting shushed by the other priestesses every couple of minutes— about his favorite foods, his favorite books and the simple lighthearted conversations she’d had with him that she’d later shared with Gwyn? (Why she never shared their more intimate conversations with her friend, she didn’t want to consider at that very moment).

As she began to spiral for being a bad friend to both Gwyn, for suddenly wanting to eat her male alive, and Azriel for playing with him the way she had, she pushed herself away from him as soon as they reached the edge, suddenly needing physical distance from him lest she climb the rest of his strong body and wrapped her legs around his face.

Azriel, however, remained just as silent as her from his place only at arms length away, but she knew his silence was of a different kind.

“I’ve…” she scrambled for something to say, “I've told you about my father before. About how he wanted a daughter.”

What better cockblock than the sudden cracking open of an age-old can of trauma?

Azriel hummed in reply, but didn’t say anything. She heard the rippling of water as he raised his hands to the edge of the spring, using his arms to pull himself up. “Wait!” She stopped him before he could fully pull himself out, “can we… stay a little longer?”

The sound of his descension back into the water was all the acquiescence she needed to hear, so she continued. “Clearly it wasn’t because he wanted to be a loving father to a little girl. He was— he is a lunatic. An arrogant narcissistic lunatic with ideas of grandeur, and all he needed was a five-coin divination from a pseudo-Seer to convince him that he would be the almighty Sire of the one female to bring truthfulness and balance to a world that blindly followed the wrong icons.

“He believed that although we prayed to the ‘feminine gods’ and other religious figures like the Mother, it was truly the males that puppeteered the restoration to order. At the same time, he thought that the High Lords of Prythian weren’t doing enough and were only the beginning of ‘a worthy representation of our world as it should be’,” she deepened her voice slightly to imitate her father.

“Your father sounds vile,” he snarled.

“He’s worse,” she assured, thankful that the tension between them had settled into something more neutral as they fell back into their usual deep but lilting conversations. “Anyway, he’s a prick who believed that his daughter would become the heiress to the Mother’s order and he would be the one orchestrating the way.”

She held onto the edge of the pool as she moved closer, while making sure to keep at least a foot of distance between them. “When I began to show my gifts, he reinterpreted his prophecy to fit me, and molded me to fit the prophecy. So, when he learned that I had this… connection to the elements, he forced me to discern how much and just how exactly they worked.

“Wind was the easiest of course, but the winds report all kinds of things— some are truths and some are lies, as we know the winds hear everything and travel where they please. He never was one to care about history unless it was his own, so he didn’t care what wisdom the earth shared with me, but fire? ‘Fire is no liar,’ he always told me as a child, and while dealing with fire definitely isn’t pleasant, it was easier than water, for ‘water does not falter’ but I did. He would toss me into the lake and not let me out until the water spoke the words he wanted to hear… and he would keep me in there for so long…” she trailed off.

She inhaled, pulling herself back to the present, unsure of where she was going with her words, only knowing that this was the moment. This was something he had to know.

“So I’ve always avoided bodies of water. Not so much because of my father, but because I’ve never much liked the cruel secrets the voices within it like to share.”

“I’m…sorry,” he spoke lowly, and he sounded so sad and so defeated that she immediately reached out to touch him. She placed a hand firmly over his chest.

“No,” she shook her head, “stop whatever verbal flagellation is going through your head, I don’t regret coming here for a second,” she spoke firmly. “I’m not even telling you this because you brought me here. I don’t want this to be transactional.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you. Because I’ve never told anyone, and I don’t want anyone else to know, but you.”

He fell silent at that, yet inhaled sharply when her finger unknowingly traced a ridged scar on his chest, only an inch away from his thundering heart.

He flinched away from her.

“Don’t.”

She pulled her hand away, “what happened there?”

“Ash bolt covered in bloodbane.”

She nodded slowly, gritting her teeth as she remembered his story behind it. “The day Elain and Nesta were made.”

“Yes.”

“And you… are ashamed of your scars?”

It was such a simple question. An intrusive one perhaps, but not for them, not here. “Yes.”

They both knew she wasn’t referring to the battle scars littering his body. He was ashamed of the scars on his hands, the ones inflicted when he was young and defenseless. The ones that had been forced upon him, not earned through battle and will.

Slowly, she reached out to touch his hand, where it rested at his side nearest to her, but as soon as her fingers grazed the outside of his scarred hand, he pulled away. “Let me show you,” she whispered soothingly, lightly grasping one of his fingers before pulling it up above the surface of the water.

Slowly, allowing him time to pull his hand away if he wanted, she singled out his index finger and brought it to the center of her lips.

She heard and felt his breath falter, but neither of them moved further until she did, guiding his finger to lightly graze over her lips to the left corner of her mouth, where she allowed him to trace her scar there, dragging out towards her ear and ending in the center of her cheek before grazing the line back, over her lips, and over the right corner of her mouth along the jagged line that dragged upward. “Eowyn,” he breathed, but she didn’t stop. She brought his finger to trace the even thicker scar dragged across her neck and then back down under the surface of the water towards her hip, just an inch or two under her belly button and to the side, where a healed yet scarred patch of flesh curdled. As he traced his finger along it though, she could tell he felt the initial wound: the branding of a jumbled insignia that had since been covered by the slightly thinner layer of a self-made burn.

“These are just the most prominent ones. I can’t feel the ones on my back.”

“Who did this to you?” He snarled, voice only barely contained as she let go of his hand. That same hand curled possessively over her hip, his thumb lightly but repeatedly tracing her scar as if trying to figure out what the insignia was, but she had long covered it and made sure it was unidentifiable. “Tell me who did this to you so I can deal with them.”

“That’s not the point,” she sighed, and when he began to protest, she settled her hands on his chest once again to pacify him. “It’s not. They will be dealt with in their due time, trust me. But I wanted to show you what I hide. What brings me shame.”

“That’s different,” he gritted and she felt his body vibrate with repressed emotions under her touch. His grip on her tightened. “Tell me who and I’ll make them pay.”

But she shook her head, “no. They will, when the time is right, but that time isn’t now.”

“How can you say that,” he pushed as he pulled her closer, “how can you show me how they hurt you and expect me to do nothing?”

“Because it’s not about them,” she snapped, “I tell you things, show you things, not because of my father, not because of the ones who hurt me, but because this is me. I am not a product of my abuse, the same way you aren’t a product of yours. These scars?” she held one of his scarred hands to her cheek to touch her own, “they are part of us, and they may reflect only a fraction of the pain in here,” she touched her other hand to his chest, “but they do not define us.”

She felt his body tremble under her touch, from repressed anger, frustration, or just a general flurry of emotions, she wasn’t sure, but no sooner had the words left his mouth— a tortured murmured “can I hold you?”— than she had her own arms wrapped around him tightly, melting into his arms and finding, finally, that which she had been searching for, yearning for, the second he placed his hands on her waist to winnow them there, to a place that was his own. Her chest touched his, and despite the thin layer of clothing separating them it was like their flesh melded together and their hearts beat as one.

This is what she needed. She cared not for anything other than the feeling of belonging that was to be wrapped in his arms. Azriel slid his hands away from her torso, cupping her face between each hand and she pliantly allowed him to.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to simply feel. She lost herself to the sensation— not just the distantly familiar feeling of being touched by another, but the particular and distinctive feeling of him.

Ever so gently, his thumbs traced her eyebrows, slowly tracing back over her closed lids, and she didn’t know when or why but she felt herself tremble under his touch, as he glided his fingers over the slope of her nose before tracing her lips once again. With the most gentle of touches, he traced her scars lightly, once, twice. He cupped the side of her head with one hand, and with the other, traced his finger along the center of her lips, pressing down slightly to part her lips before allowing it to gently plop back in its place.

“Beautiful,” he breathed so softly, it was almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

She let out a small amused tuh, about to point out that he couldn’t even see her through the dark encompassing them, but the words remained in her throat when he quickly traced his thumbs over her smile, inhaling deeply.

All she could do was hold him tight and stay there, linger in the quiet moment of peace, of comfort, and of an intrinsic and deep rooted understanding. His forehead rested on hers, and the tip of his nose brushed against hers but he didn’t try to kiss her again. He simply held her close and breathed her in.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there in the depths of the dark cave that gave no way for any sort of light. All she knew was that she didn’t need the light to guide her as long as she had Azriel at her side.

—

They remained in the shallow edge of the hot spring for a long while, lost in tender conversation as she inquired after the cave, how he’d come to find it and who else knew about it.

No longer hugging, as they treaded lightly over the water, yet never separating completely (always at least holding hands, as he kept her afloat), he told her of his formative years, when he discovered the cave when he was no older than twenty-five. He came here when he needed a breath away from his family, his duties, and even his Shadows, for although he was never without them, this was a place where the Shadows themselves liked to take their time to bask in the comforting familiar darkness on their own.

Once Eowyn felt her fingers begin to prune, they left the water and with the quick effective help of the shadows always surrounding them, she managed to dress quickly and gather herself to leave the fog of oblivion that had settled over her with his close proximity.

Expecting to be blinded by the rays of the sun, she braced herself before leaving the cave only to find not the sun, but the moon shining down at her through the gaps of the trees.

She gaped slightly, turning to look at Azriel who seemed just as surprised as her that they had spent almost the entire day in the cave.

“Are you ready?” He asked softly, and when she nodded, he reached for her waist and held her against him as he winnowed them back to the House of Wind.

“I-“ he frowned down at her, eyebrows furrowing as he considered his words. “Rhys is sending me on a mission for a few days.”

“Where?” She frowned immediately. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, of course, as Azriel was often sent out to fulfill his duties. He was never gone more than a few days, of course, but suddenly, the thought of him leaving caused an anxious knot to form in her belly.

“It’s this thing with the Autumn Court. I should be back in just a few days.”

She nodded, but kept silent for a beat. “You.. you be careful alright?”

He chuckled lightly, but this chuckle was softer than the rest he’d gifted her, as he looked down at her fondly. “Are you gonna miss me?”

“Az,” she tapped him lightly in the chest in the imitation of a punch, his eyes glinting with a tender look. “But you will be careful, won’t you?”

“I always am.”

After only half a breaths hesitation, he bent down and pressed a feather soft kiss between her eyebrows, before he winnowed away.

part eleven

*male-eater = maneater bc i was listening to the song and that is indeed Past Eowyn

taglist: @lilah-asteria , @a-courtof-azriel, @honk4emoboyz , @feyretopia , @mrsjna , @buttermilktea11 , @bravo-delta-eccho , @kylieinwonderland, @adventure-awaits13

39 notes · View notes

ashloremystic · 1 month ago

Text

18+ NSFW MDNI

I meant to have this out last week. So I'll try to post chapter 3 this week as well!! (Again sorry for any typos....I should really stop writing these in here🤣) This is part of a on going series which is kinds of a back story to a few of my og characters for a book I hope to release eventually. This chapter isn't really smutt heavy but has talk of sex etc. Please be nice🫣

Chapter 1 Here

Little Wolf

Chapter 2(pov switch)

Pov:Michelle

The court yard was buzzing with gossip of our new guests that had arrived a few days ago. It wasn't often that we got long time visitors especially one that Edith was very fond of. But from the sound of things, She seemed to speak highly of the man over the group.

It was clear that after few days that the other women were too as well. So naturally, I couldn't help but be nosey and find out what the fuss was about. Well to the best of my ability that was due to the fact that I wasn't quite 18 yet. Not for another few days at least.

Edith took me in when I was sixteen. The only reason was because she had known my parents. The ones I had only seen in pictures but never known. Up until I landed on her door step scared and alone, I had been in the care of a friend of my mother's with instructions, which led me here had anything ever happened to her.

So the Edith took pity on me and said as long as I followed her rules that she would give me a roof over my head and food in my belly. Those rules had been.

1st. Not to cause any trouble. I was told mind my business and keep my nose out of places that it didn't belong.

2nd. I needed to get educated. That ment taking classes with the other consorts that didn't have proper education as well. So I did finishing not long after I turned 17.

3rd. I needed to work and since I came as a teen, I got the jobs that didn't require me to be around clients at first. That ment Laundry, Dishes, Sweeping, moping, Cleaning room etc. When I turned 17 she started having me help serving drinks and foods.

4th. No sex. Her words were. ."I may run a pleasure house but my business is built on good morals and integrity. No underage clients or consorts are allowed."

I did my best to respect that. So like I was saying earlier, I did my best to spy within my limits. That meant listening in on conversations while I poured wine. Watching how the others talked or warmed up their concern clients before pulling them off to more private areas.

I was good at hiding where I wouldn't get noticed. My favorite was laundry time because that was when the stories were told of the nights previously spent. Or how now I hid amongst the sheets, drifting in the wind as I caught glimpses of the man who was highly favored.

He was very handsome. Tall at least 6ft with a build that showed he was very active and strong. The most luring blue eyes I've ever seen, like looking into the further depth of the ocean. I love the way his brown hair curled around his ears and those dimples.

I don't know anything about men..but I knew in my gut that I wanted to know everything about him and why everyone was so enamored by him.

The wind picked up just as he looked over the court yard and spied me watching just before a sheets blocked our view of each other. I went with it moving with the flow so I could stay hidden between them.

"Ladies." his deepened voice greeted as they gathered around him. Surrounding him with giggles and pushed up assets.

"Tim! Come for some company?" I heard Pearl ask. Probably as she twirled her red hair around her fingers like she usually did when she picked up clients. "It will be worth your while."

"Ah. Not at the moment, but I'll keep that in mind." He said closer with a playful edge to his voice. "I came out for fresh air and to ask a few questions of the staff." He was getting closer still and I couldn't help the stupid grin that slid across my face.

The next breeze came through and I took that opportunity to move again until I was further away and saw that he was where I had started. Smirking softly at the now empty basket.

"Looking for someone?" Another asked as I peeked over. We met eyes again. His looked....proud? Impressed. Excited even.

"No just curious is all."

Tanya looked over to me and smirked. "She's off Limits. Orders of Edith." She reached a hand out to press againt his chest and slowly slide down. "However...After your done with your fresh air..."She leaned up to his ear and whisper something that had his eyes closing softly as her hand breached the waist band of his jeans.

I broke contact and turned to go get more laundry. Ignoring Tanya giggles as she got carried off. Not sure why I felt hurt.

"You almost got swooped up by that one." Freya said as she came to help me carry more sheets over to the next clothesline. "Not saying that's a bad thing."

"But?" I asked as I shook out one of the blankets. "From the sound of things he isn't such a bad ride."

She laughed and pushed her thick blonde hair out of her face. "You're right..But...your first shouldn't be on that' ride. Yeah he is a good time and very well experienced, however you should practice before taking him on." She smirked at me. "obviously when you're allowed."

"Few more days." I mumbled.."So you've been on said ride I'm assuming from the sound of things?"

Her fair cheeks burned as she nodded and fanned herself. "a few times."

"what's so special about him that have everyone jumping into his bed?" I asked as I clipped the sheets I put up with clothespin so they didn't just fly off.

"He's a Werewolf."

I rolled my eyes. "So are the others with him. We get werewolves here often. What makes him any different then the other clients that breeze in and out of here."

"Snippy much?" Freya teased as she pinched my arm.

"ouch! Freya seriously! I wanna know. I'm curious."

She sighed. "Edith said it's something about his parentage. He isn't your average man. Which is why the girls have been obsessed with getting into his bed. He's rather large and also is very skilled."

"Is he gentle?"

"In many ways" She reached for a new blanket and continued."He's one of the few who likes to make sure we are pleasured before he has his fill. The first man I've ever had to press his face between my legs."

I gasped softly at the thought..."like to do what?"

"Taste you of course. It feels soooo good." She paused and gave me a thoughtful look. "That will be a part of your training if you choose to take on clients." She added matter of factly. "But I really suggest going out and dating or seeing the world if you can instead of this line of work. It wasn't my first choice either you know. I wanted to be an actor but that didn't work out well for me."

I entertain the thought longingly....If only it was safe enough for me to leave out on my own. I bet that our guest got to see a lot of the world. I would love to pick his brain.

"Michelle!" I peeked out from around the sheets to find Edith standing near the back entrance into the courtyard. Today she was wearing one of her black dress robs. Her hair was braided and sitting on her shoulder.

"Yes Ma'am?" I asked as I got up and made my way over to her.

"I need you to help with a few Errands." Meaning she wanted to talk.

"on my way!."

Pov: Tim

The consort Tanya lay spent beside me in my borrowed bed as I softly moved over so I could go sit in the windows and watch as they sun set behind the mountains.

My wolf was restless and all I could pin it down to was a scent. entwined with lavender and Jasmine. Soft and feminine. Sage green eyes.....fairskin and moved like the wind..

I shook my head and pushed the thoughts away. Not only was I a married man...She was too young. Even freshly eighteen was not my taste..I was better than that..No matter how much she made the wolf want to hunt.

Worthy mate The wolf whispered in my mind.

"We are mated already." I mumbled

You are mated. I only tolerate your choices. His voice sounded annoyed.

My control was off and with a rogue out on the loose, I couldn't afford to just let the frustration build up. I needed to run but was afraid if I changed I'd end up where I shouldn't be.

Motion out front caught my attention. A car pulled up as Edith walked out with the forbidden beside her. I don't know what the situation was with her or why she was even here in a place like this in the first place. But whatever the reason she was apparently important to Edith.

Cracking the window I listened in also hopeing for a breeze to bring her scent up to us.

"Whats going on?" She had ask Edith.

"I just need you to lay low for a few hours. So Hector and Linn will house you for the night."

"Did something happen?"

"There's a group coming in town tonight that I'm very familiar with and I can't have you in the house when they get here."

"But Edith I can..."

"Obey me child. It's for your safety Michelle."

She pouted but nodded and hugged Edith who returned it adding a kiss to her farhead and then whispered something into her ear as she pushed Michelle's dark brown almost black hair behind it in a gentle caress.

"Be safe. I'll see you when you get. Thank you guys."

"Its no problem." The man...Hector I'm guessing replied as he got out and held the back door open for Michelle. "You sure one night will be long enough?"

"Should be. If longer I can have one of the wolves here drive them off." Just who was coming and why was she hiding this woman from them?

My interest peeked as the need to change grew more. Especially when the car pulled away.

Must follow. Must protect from outside threats. The wolf growled deep in my head.

"Not our mate." I snapped at him and closed the window...We needed to calm down.

Tanya stirred as I slipped back down onto the bad. There was another way we could blow off steam at least...

#werewolf #writers on tumblr #monster fucker #monster smut #orginal character #orginal story #monster lover #smut #little wolf

12 notes · View notes

arcane-vagabond · 1 year ago

Text

Hey, so...

This is going to be a LONG post, so please bare with me.

I've been doing a LOT of thinking the past week about what fics I'm doing and when. I've made some decisions that some people are probably not going to like, and I completely understand that, but at the end of the day, it's my blog and my time. I know there have been some fics that people have been very excited for, but unfortunately, things change.

As of right now, Til the Summer Comes Again is getting shelved until sometime in November. I love the fic, and I want to finish it, but I do think it'll be a lot more fun to do in the winter considering it's a Jack Frost fic. This past winter was really hectic for me considering I started a new job after being unemployed for a couple of months, and with the stress of all that and the pressure for other fics, it definitely fell by the wayside. The fic idea is something so special to me, which is why I'm shelving it instead of scrapping it altogether. We will see Jack Frost!Bob again in November!

I am also scrapping my Hadestown fic (In Spite of the Way). I'm doing this because it's such a specific story, and unfortunately, I just don't see myself being able to add anything new or interesting to the story at hand. It would just be a complete retelling of the story that's already there, and that's not something that I want to do.

I am also tabling my Studio Ghibli fics. I'm not sure if I'll ever come back to them, but they've been pushed to the side for so long that it just doesn't make sense to have them on my masterlist when it's becoming clear that other things are drawing my interests away. I'd love to re-explore them farther down the line, but for now, Our Hill of Stars and The Word of the Crooked are being taken off my masterlist. Whisper in the Wind I believe will be started come early September or so and be a part of the Autumn lineup.

Now that Meet Me at the Sea is done, my focus is going to be on finishing Fool's Fare and updating the Dagger Posse Universe here and there. Fool's Fare is most likely to be done sometime in April if I had to guess, which means...

It's time to talk the Sailor-Aviator Summer Cinematic Release schedule!

As we all know, I've just announced the MMATS stand-alone sequel: Down By the Bay featuring one Bradley Bradshaw. But what else is coming this summer? Let's talk about it!

There have been a few of you waiting for my Indiana Jones!Jake fic aka Fortune & Glory, and I'm so excited to announce that it is on the roster for this summer! Tune in to follow Jake and Bucket as they try to secure the legendary staff of Moses before the Nazis do!

Next up on the roster is the long-awaited Mafia fic! Titled after the age-old idiom, Two Birds follows the reader as they unwittingly catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses, both standing as the dual heads of the Dagger Syndicate. Two Birds is a M x F x M featuring Jake "Hangman" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (No Hangster).

I'm hoping to start these fics anywhere from Mid-May to early June, so stay tuned!!

Meanwhile, I will be dedicating some time to the DPU as well, trying to wrap up some fics within that to hopefully have it finished (or down to the last one) by the summer's end.

If you've stuck around this long, I just want to say thank you. Not only for reading this monster of a post, but for continuing to read my work and for following and supporting me through everything! You guys are the best! Until next time~

70 notes · View notes

director-yomi-hellsmile · 1 month ago

Text

@makotokagutsuwuchi So I could have just made a quick list of vague Weird Stuff that DotC is comprised of but that wouldn't be nearly enough for what this blight upon the universe this arc is. You could take a shot every time something outrageous happens on page and by book 2 you could be granted either mercy; to die before you could get any further or get so wasted you forget everything you just read forever. I need to make this post a whole Thing or else I would never be free but mostly I just wanted to write it

Actual DotC post below the cut, before that some content warnings I didn't forget: colonialism, abuse including domestic & child abuse + death as result of it, descriptions of gore, torture, very violent misogyny, fatphobia, ableism, sexual assault, incestuous grooming implications, lots of cats getting maimed and killed but this one's more of a given within the series though in this case it's very influenced by previously listed things so it's kinda Worse.

I. DotC HATES adoption + Bio Family Matters Most (no matter what, no exceptions)

I think this is like, the least terrible thing about DotC only because it's overshadowed by much worse which I'll get to later.

Point is, DotC really hates adoption. It's seen as illegitimate next to Magic Genes, and that no matter whether your biological parent willingly abandoned or abused you, or perhaps beat your mother bloody several times, while your adoptive parent was the one that actually raised you or that you even knew for your entire life while your sperm donor was a complete stranger; the latter bond will always be inferior to the Special Connection you have with your ~true~ parent.

It's mainly in the arcs of Thunder, Sun Shadow (to a lesser extent), and the litter Sparrow Fur/Pebble Heart/Owl Eyes. When Thunder was like, probably a few weeks old at most, his mother died (after leaving his father because of him being violent and controlling and also getting cats mauled and killed) (her name is Storm) and they were there found by Gray Wing, Thunder's uncle, who took him to his father, Clear Sky -- however Clear Sky did not want him, so Gray Wing decided to adopt Thunder instead and raise him as his own.

Gray Wing also wasn't his sole guardian (since he doesn't have any milk) and his other parents were Hawk Swoop who has recently given birth and her mate Jackdaw's Cry. Hawk Swoop according to Thunder is nice and all but she just doesn't feel "right" because she's not his real mom, and Jackdaw's Cry never liked Thunder, he was against him even being accepted into their group as a baby and was pretty open about how he thought he was "stealing" milk from his bio kids. Thunder gets a magic dream from his dead bio mom who "feels Right and Loving" unlike his fake mom Hawk Swoop or something, in which she assures him that he will save Clear Sky, "his father" from himself one day. Which 1.) he does not know that man also he literally abandoned him and 2.) Clear Sky doesn't need "fixing" from his teenage son lmaooo but ok it's ok.

His relationship with Gray Wing is eventually strained because he can never be his Real Dad, is also pushed by Gray Wing to reconnect with him, and he eventually leaves to go join Clear Sky's camp and get to know him. Or, it's more like Clear Sky begins manipulating him by telling him that he's so strong now and how he only abandoned him as a "test" that he passed and he's worthy of his love now, that he would do so much better living in the forest with him and that he should hurry up with the goodbye and go with him already. And he makes Thunder feel good so of course he agrees and leaves with him after which he gets emotionally abused by him every single day and watches him murder people, before ending up leaving after Clear Sky shoves his face into a reeking, festering wound and dares him to lick it in front of a crowd as another part of his abuse game after he dared to question him

But like it's fineeeee. Afterwards Gray Wing is never described as his father again (the title now belongs to Clear Sky fully. Because of Magic Genes), and gets screeched at and belittled for not wanting to interact with his father (to go fetch him for something) after he's cut ties with him already, told to stop "sulking" and acting like a baby and reconcile with him already then lectured about how anger is bad and to have some pity for how hard it must be for Clear Sky right now. Fucking help me

Sun Shadow's story wouldn't be bad per se if it didn't exist in this arc (in fact it would be somewhat interesting in a different one), where every single adoptive family is portrayed as negative and biological ties as the only thing that actually matters. These aren't written in a vacuum the entire three times (we'll get to the third one momentarily) that happened someone purposefully included these to make a point cause that's how stories work. But anyway Sun Shadow's father left his mom when she was pregnant and his step-dad abused him because of course he did. He's exploring cause he got exploring blood from his Magic Genes once again and ends up running away to find the other guys his father went with (he died but Sun doesn't know) cause he felt like only he could truly understand him. Whatever moving on

Third one is. I think the actual most egregious. Sure, Thunder is constantly treated badly for not connecting and making up with Clear Sky, but like, at least they never really get close with each other afterwards if I did not forget something. Enter Sparrow Fur, Pebble Heart, and Owl Eyes, the kits of Turtle Tail and Tom; though Tom was their bio dad, they never knew him, and instead Gray Wing (again) was considered their father and raised them with Turtle Tail. They were born and brought up as Gray Wing's kits, and Tom didn't even know they existed because they hid it from him.

Some context for who Tom is and why no one (well. mostly) let that guy near Turtle Tail or the kits; he was a textbook wifebeater as other people put it, being a cat adopted into Bumble's (Turtle Tail's friend) house while Turtle Tail was staying over with her; when Gray Wing asked her what she thought of him she is noted to "hesistate" before saying that "they got along fine" while "giving her pelt a shake". Tom eventually got her pregnant and upon finding out, she said he "changed" though quickly assured Gray Wing that he didn't hurt her or anything (though we know that he did actually beat her and Bumble then). He intimidated Bumble into not telling Turtle Tail that humans typically give the kits away once they reach a certain age, and when Turtle got Bumble to eventually tell her, Turtle left them. Afterwards, Tom started taking it out on Bumble, frequently beating her bloody until she couldn't take it anymore and ran away from him, starved in the woods just so she wouldn't have to see him anymore, was denied any help by every cat she met (including Turtle) before she eventually was brutally murdered by Clear Sky. More on her later I got an entire section just on the treatment of Bumble by these books alone

Ok so. I think we can agree that he should be left out of their life right? Well NUH UH, that's wrong, because you see we have to account for the fact that he and the kids share the Magic Genes. He's their Real Daddy and they Need his special presence or else they will never be happy

Tom ends up finding the kits (after Gray Wing accidentially reveals their location to him like an idiot) and after telling them that he's their actual dad proceeds to kidnap them. Though they do come with him "willingly" because as soon as they learned this weirdass stranger is their sperm donor it's like a switch flipped and activated their sleeper agent or whatever the hell and they already care immensely for him just from knowing that. He's their Real Daddy now and Gray Wing was just Playing Pretend because he could never substitute for their Real Biological Daddy. Gray Wing is never mentioned as their father again at least in that book since Tom entered the picture because Tom is their Real Daddy Now. And actual adult cats in the group don't wanna actually take them back from him because uhh, "Now that they know he's their Real Dad™ we can't snatch them back" like it's some fucking spell??? What. And that they "have to leave them". Oh actually one of them did straight up allow one of the kits to run off into the woods to go find Tom because . He's their Real Dad. Yes let's. Let's let Tom get a hold of these three children he's famously got these very gentle and fatherly vibes also have I mentioned that he's their Real Dad actually I feel like I didn't say that enough,

Anyway I also forgot to mention that he was responsible for Turtle Tail fucking dying before he took her kits away, and that the kits must "see him as their only option (after Turtle died)" which is actually on page and it's ok it's ok. Like he got their mom killed (not directly directly but does it even matter) just like he was responsible for Bumble's death. Anyway Gray Wing and the other rescuers idk decide they can't just snatch the kits back and instead emotionally manipulate them that living as house cats is gonna just suck sooo much. Specifically they had to do that because apparently them sharing Tom's Magic Genes made them unable to ever utter a bad word about him near them and they're just so powerless to bring them home or something. But like it's ok. It's ok.

Ok anyway Tom eventually later joins Clear Sky's camp (who knew that he kidnapped kids though denied it later or perhaps got his mind wiped or something) and the kits also find out about it. And guess what nobody fucking tells them what Tom actually did, cause apparently they don't want to ruin their "Special Blood Connection" with their biodad by informing them that he BEAT THEIR MOM AND GOT HER KILLED. Thunder specifically notes that they shouldn't feel surprised if the kits "feel curiosity towards their father and even loyalty" what theftuck are you saying please can I go home. Sparrow Fur (one of the kits) eventually says that she will go looking for Tom again.

Can you go grab a snack or something now cause we;re fucking. Getting to the best part. Do you wanna know what they eventually do with Tom, you know, The Tom, Tom the Wifebeater, who has only two personality traits ever which are "cruel" and "extremely violent" with zero good traits or depth aside from that?

He gets redeemed by the narrative.

Yes he gets to have a heroic Redemption By Death while saving his daughter.

Sparrow Fur vows to Avenge Him as that's what he Deserves. He was her Real Daddy and he Truly Loved her enough to Die For Her which is what All True Bio Parents Just Do no matter what. Tom is more respected than either of the women he battered that are currently cold in their graves all because of him that he does not feel bad for At All, that he laughs about and taunts everyone on how he got away with it. You should still love your bio dad actually even if he's abusive because he's your Bio Dad who matters the most in the whole wide world . It's ok

And like, Gray Wing was never the true father of any of the kits he literally raised, be it Thunder, or Pebble Heart, Sparrow Fur and Owl Eyes, because he's not their real, biological father. The books say loudly that he does not currently have any real children to be a father to, so, they conjure up a fertile woman out of thin air to be his love interest and birth kits for him that he can experience True parenthood by raising, he deserves it, it's his reward. And then he doesn't even raise those reward babies because he dies at the end, and yet they get to be considered Gray Wing's "real kids."

So yeah uhh. I would say that's the pretty much state of adoption in DotC and well you can see that- Hold on, I just got a phone call. Oh my. Oh it appears I had made a huge oversight and forgotten the fourth example of adoption in DotC! They are Birch and Alder, adopted by Petal, one of Clear Sky's most fanatical supporters, after Clear murders their mother to steal her land and considers killing the newborns too as "mercy", before Petal and Thunder prevent him from that and so they just decide to take them. Here they never find out about their bio mother and are treated as Petal's kits, and she is praised so much by being such a great person by taking them in, while Clear Sky also steps in to help raise them, his favourite activities to do with the children who he orphaned and stole being: getting so distracted by beating one of them in front of the other that the latter is threatened by a dog while also othering both of them for not being fully camp/clanborn. But they're one of the good examples of non-campborn cats. It's so cool they got adopted it was so kind and merciful of Clear Sky to not fucking kill them as newborns after he was done with their mother, shouldn't they be just so grateful to him for taking them in. I hereby cancel all of my previous statements. This is the best positive adoption representation in any media ever it was so foolish of me to doubt their vision I fucking love DotC (you can faintly hear me brutally strangling a subordinate with my whip in a fit of blind rage)

II. Cat colonialism

This will be more brief not because I think it's not severe, but because like, what do I even say?? Makoto we got cat colonialism here. Not surprising considering their uhh, track record, but it's definitely THE most glaring in the arc of DotC specifically. It's not even subtext it's pretty explicit, actually.

A group of cats from the mountain group leave the mountains in order to live in the forest instead, which is already inhabited by other cats. They could move freely along the territories and hunt everywhere before the mountain cats came. The mountain cats frequently treated the forest and moor cats there as if they're inconveniencing them by.... I don't know, being there first. Being really aggressive and insulting towards them for not immediately moving out to accomodate for their group(s), with the emphasis on how "dirty" and "lawless" as well as uniquely brutal they all were with no culture of their own before the mountain cats came along.

Clear Sky's camp immediately establishes borders around the forest, driving out any cat in their way and continuously expanding their territory, while threatening or straight up tackling any "trespasser" the find inside or near it to the ground, if not just outright mauling or killing them. Any cat that previously lived there is forced to either assimilate into one of the mountain cats' groups or to get out; that's assuming if Clear Sky doesn't kill them for their territory before that either.

I already said that Clear Sky killed Misty, random native to steal her land and then wanted to kill her kids too to "spare them their suffering" before changing his mind and instead just taking them. Bumble is also murdered by Clear Sky because he wanted to expand his territory and she happened to just be near, it wasn't even his territory then officially he was just making it so. Wind and Gorse are cats that have been living on the moor before the mountain cats came along, but once their group (not Clear Sky's, Tall Shadow's, this one is where Gray Wing lives) decides that they want to live here, they are forced to assimilate into the group and change their names to fit there so they won't get chased out of their home for "stealing" from the mountain cats. There is a character Milkweed who is upset that Clear Sky killed her friend (the first cat listed, the one with kits), and she is told that they can "make up for the pain and suffering" by telling her to join Clear Sky's camp too. Clear Sky's. The group of a cat who killed her friend and stole her kits. And she ends up doing just that and gets treated Bad.

Two villains are conjured up into thin air to contrast Clear Sky and how he wasn't actually that bad next to them: One Eye and Slash. They are portrayed as "true, born evil", described as unwashed and stinky, with their groups having zero morals, that the mountain cats have to valiantly defend themselves from lest they plunder the land and kidnap their women and harm their children and whatever else.

To emphasize how brutish and fucked up the natives were, Slash is portrayed as perverted, domineering and child-abusing savage, who proceeds to kidnap a young pregnant woman and sensually lick her face in front of her mountain cat partner on page, which sure was one of the things I've ever read (Not the only woman he harasses/assaults on page)

Hmm I think I'm forgetting something... I keep calling them "mountain cats" though that does seem a bit clunky and I don't think it's quite right... Oh I just remembered, I guess I should mention that the "mountain cats" are unironically, deadass, in source, referred to as "The Settlers". Yes they called them The Settlers Officially. I'm not making this shit up. I just thought I should mention that right at the end

Normal series

III. Bumble

I did mention her a lot earlier. She deserves her own section. I don't even know how to start this one out. She's got to be the victim of the most SEVERE misogynistic and fatphobic writing I straight up ever saw in any media I ever engaged with. To describe her fate as "torture porn" would be horribly inaccurate as that would imply any sort of enjoyment for whatever the fuck is going on here. Child me actually stopped reading on this part I was Flabbergasted

Bumble is a sweetheart, kind to everybody she ever meets, no matter how rude they are to her. She's straight up so cheerful every time we see her, in contrast to the rest of the cast, who are significantly more serious and downright cynical slash mean-spirited. She's a house cat, and canonically described as fat and clumsy. She becomes friends with Turtle Tail, which angers Gray Wing (he is very controlling of Turtle Tail, and straight up hates Bumble for that plus is disgusted at how fat she is every time he sees her. Even sneers at her suffering), and eventually, Turtle Tail moves in with her. Tom comes along. He beats them both, and once Turtle Tail gets pregnant, he gets Bumble to stay silent (under threat of violence) about what humans plan to do with the kits once they're born -- which she does tell Turtle Tail, resulting in her leaving, which angered Tom.

He started taking everything out on Bumble every day for at least an entire month, beating up until she bled and had scratches all over her body -- she says that "he's clever enough to do it where the (humans) won't notice unless they really look hard". She ends up running away from Tom one day, finds Turtle Tail and Gray Wing (in Tall Shadow's group. mentioning her once again) and asks them if she can live with them now because she doesn't want to go back. They internally wince because they do not want her here, not caring that she's in literal danger.

Turtle Tail tells her that she would want to help her, but, Bumble would just be better off going back because she would be useless in the wild, because she's just so fat and lazy. Gray Wing internally agrees, noting how fat Bumble is, and how she would be nothing but a burden, especially now that she has been so traumatized by all the abuse ("And she has lost all her former confidence, hardly able to meet their eyes, her voice shaking as she spoke."). These are the good guys Gray Wing is the protagonist this is what the Erins wrote into their childrens' book series assuming something did not fucking possess them

So Bumble begs them to let her see their leader, Tall Shadow, so she can then go beg her to give her a place to stay. Turtle Tail and Gray Wing wince internally once again because they do not fucking want her. Gray Wing is still angry at Bumble for "stealing" Turtle Tail from him earlier, btw.

"Gray Wing felt a pang of resentment against Bumble, for interrupting his time with Turtle Tail and the kits" felt a pang of resentment for......... being interrupted on a walk by a bloody, battered woman seeking asylum.................. remind me again how we are supposed to sympathize with any of these people and yes you are supposed to sympathize with Gray Wing

Turtle Tail then whispers to Gray Wing that she wants Bumble to talk to Tall Shadow, because she's setting her up to fail and knows that Tall Shadow would never agree, and then Bumble would understand she has no place here and would go back to Tom (WHO TURTLE TAIL HERSELF RAN AWAY FROM SHE KNOWS HOW ABUSIVE TOM IS). Gray Wing says that Turtle Tail was so kind to her. Turtle Tail says tee-hee you know I can't hold a grudge. We need to euthanize these two

^Bumble literally did NOTHING to you, she was always kind to you and was your friend and was there for you when you were both living with Tom. She never did anything to anybody. She has done nothing to deserve anything that is happening, and about to happen to her, and somehow, we are supposed to agree that she would be "useless" and a "burden" in the wild, not even worth keeping safe without a chance to get something out of her in return

Tall Shadow's group (calling it TSG now) immediately regards Bumble with hostility and contempt for being a house cat. Gray Wing thinks "ohh she thinks she can just stroll in >:(((" after she tries to act tough to the TSG cats so that she would be convincing enough for them not to get sent back to a place where she knows she will be abused. Jagged Peak asks who is she, and insults her for being fat.

^I just remembered screenshots exist. Anyway Gray Wing kill yourself challenge + "a few moments ago she couldn't even look Turtle Tail in the face!" a few moments ago she wasn't arguing for her damn life what is your problem. This is treated as a WISE thing, Gray Wing's defining character trait. Being "wise."

Tall Shadow proceeds to blame Bumble for her abuse. She asks her if there is really no way she could stop Tom from beating her and Bumble says no. Tall Shadow then says: "Well then... Why not make yourself extra nice to your twolegs, purr at them, or whatever kittypets do." No one in the TSG clearly gives a single fuck about Bumble but she still tries. Immediately afterwards, a cat (Wind) jumps out from the crowd and says Bumble could never live with them, calls her soft and lazy to her face, and says there is no place for a weak cat like her in the wild, before turning to Tall Shadow and asking her if she agrees. It should be noted that Bumble isn't even the focus of that moment; the real important thing here is the Wind and Tall Shadow politics. Bumble is just secondary, she's just Here Too ig, who cares about her.

They turn Bumble down; not only that, but she is then being PHYSICALLY DRAGGED BACK TO HER ABUSER. Bumble screams at Turtle Tail for letting (and watching) this happen to her, and we're supposed to be mad at Bumble here too for daring to be mean to her. This is treated as an unreasonable thing for Bumble to be mad at. Gray Wing is annoyed at the sight, and thinks that "he'll never understand kittypets".

And the scene wants you to agree. It's supposed to be about how Tall Shadow's indecisiveness led to Wind taking control of the situation and how much better she's at leading than her, and how much Bumble deserved it for being useless and fat -- but most of all this is not a story about how Bumble was failed by the only people who could have helped her, it's one where you are meant to agree she would have never fit in and that it was a right choice in the end. It also gets worse. Somehow.

They don't see Bumble for a while afterwards, but she spends weeks starving in the woods, alone, after running away from Tom a second time; but then their group (comprising of both Gray Wing and Turtle Tail too) comes across Bumble again. She is slowly bleeding out on the ground, horrifically injured and currently dying from a literal death of a thousand cuts, with slits all over her belly and sides. Clear Sky did this to her, because he wanted to expand his territory, and Bumble just happened to be in the area too. The first thing that Gray Wing even does, still next to her, is to defend Clear Sky and buy into his shitty lie that "well a fox did it. Not Me".

^he even starts outright swooning. While Bumble is dying a few centimeters away. Who wrote this.

He starts vehemently defending Clear Sky even if the rest of his group doesn't, thinks that if they attack his precious brother then they would be "just as bad as him". Clear Sky. The. Clear Sky. And CAN WE ADRESS THE BUMBLE LITERALLY BLEEDING OUT ON THE GROUND NEXT TO THEM

Clear Sky literally confessed that he beat the shit out of her and she was so weak from starvation that she fainted, but that it was an :((( Accident :(((( He just Wanted to Give Her A Warning :(((( Oh and also I didn;t kill it was the Fox that actually came here after I left. Gray Wing says "yes king so true" and you are meant to take this seriously

Bumble, slowly dying from blood loss on her fucking death bed, apologizes to Turtle Tail for possibly ever hurting her. And you know how Turtle Tail responds. By telling her that she wishes she could have found happiness somehow... but she could never possibly live with them with the wild. She's literally about to die and Turtle Tail still finds a way to somehow rub it in ever further how much of a shitty friend she is. Her living in Tall Shadow's camp, where she felt was her only choice to go to because that's where her friend, Turtle Tail was, and she thought she would actually help her or something. That was her only shot she ever had and she's literally about to die now because she was turned away, "you could have never lived with us in the wild unfortunately" said to her while she's literally dying as a result of her not being allowed to live with them at least temporarily is actually crazy.

But it does not matter, why should anyone care about a severely abused woman dead on the ground as result of everyone's actions? It was inevitable anyway. What really matters in this scene is Clear Sky, and how hard it must be for him to get blamed for killing her. Which he did, by the way. Won't anyone please think of Clear Sky's feelings??

"this isn't just the death of a kittypet." It isn't just about Bumble getting brutally murdered for no reason. It's actually about misunderstood precious baby Clear Sky, who we will get to shortly because hahahaha I'm going to become violent you will understand my thirst for extreme violence towards Clear Sky once we get to what the authors decided to do with him afterwards it's worse than fucking Tom Redemption Death.

Truly, fuck Bumble right. Her audacity to ask Turtle Tail for asylum while she inconvenienced her and her boyfriend's morning jog and got their sandals dirty with her blood. Isn't she just so stupid that she thought The Settlers would want her anywhere near them while being so weak and fat and lazy and fat have I mentioned how disgustingly fat she is enough. How dare she ruin Clear Sky's reputation by making him slip on a banana while he was holding a kitchen knife and fall directly on her 28 times what was she thinking. She should have went back to Tom and just thought up a way to make him stop beating her it can't be that hard she's just lazy and dumb

Far from the only female character that gets butchered in this arc, they kill off so many major female characters for the development of the male characters or even simple shock value (Fluttering Bird, Bright Stream, Storm, Petal, Turtle Tail, Bumble, Rainswept Flower) that they have to make up a bunch of brand new ones at the end to marry and birth babies for the guys in the cast.

Later that book Gray Wing comforts Turtle Tail that there is nothing that neither of them could have possibly done anyway. Both Tom and Clear Sky get exonerated by the narrative for this and go to cat heaven while Bumble is barely mentioned ever again (aside from a scene where Tom found and disrespected her fucking grave), killed for the crime of being fat and asking for help or something. Normal series. Normal series

IV. CLEAR SKY

Okay, so I'm going to quickly list a tally of every abuse, crime against humanity, atrocity and bad thing that Clear Sky ever did (but ONLY up to the book 3 finale, there are 6 books in this total), just to quickly paint a clearer picture. We need that for context

Screamed at his younger brother, Jagged Peak (who was still a kit) thorought the journey and consistently put him down

Upon moving into the forest, he immediately enforced borders for no reason, getting several people injured and killed (got more into it at the colonialism section), continued to expand them despite having enough food, overhunts to the point where there are several piles of meat in his camp about to spoil

Controlling of his pregnant mate Storm (also got into a public fight with her), who has to leave the camp because of him making it unsafe

Threw Jagged Peak out of his camp because of becoming disabled, and therefore not useful anymore regardless of whether he's his brother, continues to humiliate him by calling him useless

Watches Fox (one of his cats) maim Gray Wing, and does nothing

Abandoned his son as a baby

Later on wanted Thunder back, telling him that abandoning him was a "test" and that he's worthy now and then emotionally manipulates him into leaving with him immediately, and once he agrees to go with him, proceeds to subject him to abuse in his camp

Guilt trips Thunder and brings him over to a personal propaganda session over him not believing that they are close to starving or something (they aren't), later lovebombs him over the corpse of Misty (after killing her in front of him) and makes him feel as if he's threatening him.

Brings Thunder into a bunch of random unsafe charred trees for "jumping practice", making Thunder scared of breaking his leg there just like Jagged Peak, and then screamed at him whenever he's not jumping fast enough or jumping too fast, blaming him whenever he fell like how some weird mind game.

Slaughters a random native (Misty) to steal her land. Upon finding out she has newborn kits, he considers killing them to to "spare them their suffering" but Petal instead says she will adopt them.

Brutally murdered Bumble by slitting her belly and sides until she slowly bled out. Because he wanted to expand his borders where she happened to just be standing there

When one of his notoriously loyal cats, Frost, becomes disabled and gets an infection in his leg that went untreated for weeks in his camp, he also plans to immediately discard him and let him die

^Thunder is like, 6-months-ish, the warrior cats equivalent of a 13 year old, when he dares to question Clear Sky by saying "dad can we kill less natives maybe" after Bumble's death, which angers him so much that he summons Frost whose wound still hasn't healed and commands him to flash it in front of all the cats in the clearing, before saying that he's useless now and must be exiled -- telling Thunder to go escort Frost out and "leave him where the maggots will find him", and when he refused, he shoves his son's face in that infected wound commanding him to "lick it clean if he cares so much".

A fox (animal. not the guy) attacks the camp, and Clear Sky blames Thunder for attracting it there somehow, before pushing Thunder at it

Thunder decides to leave (and also bring Frost to an actual doctor), and when Clear Sky overhears Falling Feather saying goodbye to him and calling Clear greedy, he slashes her face and publically humiliates her (also noted to look 'pleased' at seeing the guilt in her face) then declares to his whole camp "Any cat may give Falling Feather orders. Any cat may take her prey if they wish. She is lower than a snake until she has earned our trust again."

Brings Alder and Birch (the kits that he wanted to kill but Petal took in. Alder is a girl and Birch's a guy, this is important because of how the majority of all cats he throttles are female characters) to the woods where he forces them to run as fast as him and shaming them for not keeping up despite them being like 6, forces Alder to do a surprise ambush on Birch and when she's uncomfortable he smacks her, then leaves Birch alone in the woods where he's attacked by a dog.

Takes a hostage and starves him for 3 days after lying that he would keep him fed

Does not allow cats to choose their own food, he flings carcasses at them so that they only eat when he allows it.

Forces cats to train with their claws out so that everyone there is constantly covered in scratches and bruises

Before "the first battle" in book 3, it was supposed to be a peaceful negotiation between Clear Sky and Tall Shadow's group, Jackdaw's Cry catches a bat (after being starved for 3 days by Clear Sky despite rotting piles of food in his camp) which offends Clear Sky so greatly (he decided it's his territory too now) that he himself started the battle (he was also the reason for the negotiation too)

Tells Thunder "But don't forget, you mean nothing to any cat, no matter how much you try to prove yourself. No cat trusts you anymore! You might as well not exist." before commanding his cats to attack him

"That's right, stay up there and watch your friends die."

Rainswept Flower does not attack him but simply calls him out on being greedy, which throws him into such a rage he murders her. Then proceeds to boast that if he hadn't killed her then some other cat would. Later on, he makes up a lie that he apparently "blacked out" and "didn't remember it"

Total cats that ended up dying in the battle he started: Fircone, Frost, Rainswept Flower, Jackdaw's Cry, Falling Feather and Hawk Swoop (6)

Manipulates, controls and is violent towards literally everybody in his life

Alright so you might ask. Why am I listing this. This seems like normal villain stuff, he's purposefully written to be evil right. We are supposed to hate him for this and think that he's A Baddie for this right

[feebly grabs you by the shoulders]

We Aren't

He's supposed to be misunderstood. At every turn, the narrative begs you to sympathize and understand his every choice, explaining all of his actions by saying that He Was Just Scared :( and that He Just Cared Too Much :(( which makes no fucking sense if you read all that. All of that was because he was just so scared of starving you guys, nevermind the rotting piles of food all over his camp. He thought that he was doing the right thing, and so..... that makes it okay I guess?? "he was just so Protective" was he exercising protectiveness when he showed his son's face in a festering wound. Like who gaf about Clear Sky why are we powdering his ass so much I legitimately don't understand. He would be FINE as a villain!!! What are you doing!!!!!!

Let's. Detail the whole Clear Sky Exoneration Arc and also why he literally never changes. Aside from "killing less people" I guess, but the bar is so fucking low.

Clear Sky stops the first battle, because he was just about to kill his brother, Gray Wing, and this was too far for him. Apparently. Disregard everything else he did, Gray Wing being hurt is where he draws the line, because I guess he sees him as a person or something I don't know I can't. This is here to show that he still has some goodness deep inside of him. After the battle he suddenly feels Really Bad :((( and so Gray Wing jumps to comfort him and have a friendly chat.

Gray Wing thinks to himself "We let it get too far" WHO THE FUCK IS WE?? This is literally 100% Clear Sky's fault. He then continues to defend him. But do not worry, Gray Wing is not the only cat to think he was just misguided. StarClan cats come down from the heavens, and his dead girlfriend #2, Storm, briefly criticizes him for killing people ig, but then after he sniffles a bit and says he didn't meannnnnn itttt :(( she agrees that he was Just Scared. Suddenly, "her gaze softens", and she said that "Fear is what drove you. Fear is a powerful instinct that only the strongest cat can resist. But now you see there's no need to be afraid. We have shown that death is nothing for you to fear. It's not the end." Guys abuse is okay if you're scared. You know what will fix Clear Sky? Assurance of religion with an eternal afterlife. Piety will fix him guys. He keeps all of his power and influence and gets off scot-free, since it's apparently decided that the most suitable consequence for literal tyranny is just guilt.

And they also find some way to SOMEHOW blame the nearest woman, Tall Shadow, for this too. Which the battle was not her fucking fault, it was literally solely Clear Sky but that would make him look bad so we need to both sides this shit. Angels come down from the heavens and shun Tall Shadow for somehow causing this, and for killing Fircone, one of Clear Sky's cats, in the battle. In self defense, because Fircone attacked her first. Clear Sky's cats were instructed to kill these people, she was defending herself from getting killed by him. But she's just as bad as Clear Sky guys!!! Next time don't be a woman in DotC!!!!!!!

God FORBID they imply that Clear Sky was ever responsible for anything ever. StarClan tells them that "ALL of you need to make amends" because it was actually all of them. Not Clear Sky. All of them. Despite the fact that Clear Sky caused literally everything that led up to this and Tall Shadow's camp did fucking NOTHING. This is like if a bully stabs you twenty times, waterboards you in your own blood then kills your dog, so you punch them back, and you both get equally punished because retaliation is Just As Bad. I can't do this. And this is only the beginning. THUNDER also expresses sympathy for him.

^ ???????? WHAT.

^ WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!!!!!!!! THE HELL DO YOU MEAN???????????

Your honor he was just. A little cinnamon roll he did nothing wrong. He's just a poor little meow meow won't we please think about Clear Sky's hurt feelings :((

Quoting tumblr user Bonefall for this, since it's correct and relevant, before getting into the second half of DotC:

"Because of this, of all this set-up for the "redemption" arc they're trying to tell in the last three books, DOTC is Clear Sky's story. Everything primarily exists to benefit and serve his arc. Thunder and Gray Wing might have POVs, but HE is the character who truly drives the plot. So in order to HAVE conflict for that back half, two evil foreign cats, Slash and One Eye, are summoned to act as contrast.

Their narrative purpose is to display "true evil" to make Clear Sky look less bad in comparison. Unfortunately, Clear Sky is the most malignant, deadly character who has ever blighted Warrior Cats.

The "pure evil" examples they summon aren't effective contrasts because they're flat. Clear Sky is what real abusers look like.

His rhetoric is what it sounds like when a cult leader is trying to keep control over a group. He lies when it benefits him, justifies his actions with his tragic backstory to assuage his guilt and manipulate others, and violently lashes out when his feelings are hurt before blaming his victim for making him angry.

He only made "some mistakes" in that SOME of his actions were accidents-- the vast majority of them were malicious, self-absorbed, intentional choices to punish, hurt, and kill others."

Getting into "The Blazing Star", fourth book in DotC, in which One Eye and Star Flower are introduced and everyone is besties with Clear Sky now. He takes in Tom into his group, who he had no way to NOT know was also the one to kidnap Turtle Tail's kits before, because he promised he could "show him how to fight dirty". Clear Sky also implies that Tom is not even a "real cat", because he's fat and a former house cat. Makes a lot of comments about his weight but I think it's more of the authors speaking through him and not a conscious writing choice for Clear specifically. Along with Tom comes along One Eye, the most cartoonishly evil guy you could possibly ever imagine but he stroked Clear Sky's ego a few times so he doesn't care now.

(Oh and also I was wrong about Thunder earlier when I said that "but hey at least he and Clear Sky never make up or anything". He did actually end up forgiving Clear Sky for everything and is now back full force into chasing his approval. Because of the Magic Genes. This is painted as a good thing btw. Disregard Clear Sky telling Thunder that he shouldn't exist earlier this day or a few days ago where he shoved his face in an infected wound that doesn't matter anymore everyone's minds are successfully wiped in The Blazing Star)

One Eye spawns in here (From where? Who knows. Probably a similiar Evil Foreigner spawner that Slash came out of) just to contrast Clear Sky, and show how he wasn't That Bad. Clear Sky was simply misguided, while One Eye is pure evil and LOVES murder . Slash is there, albeit way later, for the same exact reason, except it's even worse with him. Suddenly, Clear Sky's biggest "mistake" wasn't everything he did in books 1-through-3, it was letting One Eye into his camp and letting him overthrow him. There is a character, Snake, who was part of Clear Sky's camp and loyal to him for the entire time, up until One Eye takes over (because of Clear Sky) and permanently branded him with a mark on his paw while in there. Snake, of course, is furious at Clear Sky and refuses to forgive him -- which is treated as Snake being bad and unreasonable and treasonous somehow for DARING to be mean to innocent baby Clear Sky, and then later joins Slash in being another villain of the latter arc, which by the way makes zero sense.

And it's not really like Clear Sky even changes all that much after The First Battle. He does not actively try to kill people. But he's still controlling, abusive, and violent, especially towards female characters as he always is, like that one time he smacks around Quick Water to relieve stress in Forest Divided and that one time he gouged Willow Tail's eyes out as punishment in a super edition which makes him look Very redeemed. All of the people he killed directly were women, and even if we count the numerous time he did so indirectly/accidentially, they're still the majority. He gets pissy and screams whenever someone dares tell him that he Did Something Wrong Maybe. Still the narrative cannot shut up about how great and hard-working he is and how everyone loves him and that if someone doesn't love him, then they're probably evil because who wouldn't love that guy.

Thunder actually once calls him out on that he was a murderous dictator a few months ago, but then he immediately feels bad about it and has to apologize to Clear Sky -- during this scene Clear also invokes his dead sister for sympathy points, which is definitely not manipulative just like all the other times he interacted with Thunder at all. He even continues to mistreat Thunder anyway, but it doesn't matter apparently cause his redemption arc is done and so he does not have to do anything anymore.

Let's get into Star Flower just to end this one because I Can't. Of course, Clear Sky's exoneration arc cannot conclude without a reward wife that can birth him more babies that he will be able to actually raise, as a reward, as previously mentioned -- two of his girlfriends, Bright Stream and Storm, already died for his man pain, one while pregnant and another shortly after giving birth. He needs a third one, to give him "a second third chance at being a daddy", and so enter Star Flower. She is One Eye's daughter, roughly the age of Thunder, and her story is just so depressing.

Originally, Star Flower and Thunder (Clear Sky's son) were kind of a thing, in that they flirted with each other but Starf was pretty much using him on One Eye's orders, and ended up "betraying" the Settlers by warning her father about an ambush they were planning to do on him -- and Star Flower considers herself a terrible, irredeemable person for this who deserves punishment. After a bit of convincing from Thunder, Clear Sky takes her in to his camp, where she starts to offer herself to him. She starts pulling more than her own weight "without complaint", putting on additional jobs like babysitting Milkweed's kits (in spite of Milkweed's discomfort) and willingly putting herself in unpleasant conditions like taking a wet sleeping spot.

Thunder himself feels sick that Clear Sky is romantically interested in her; pointing out that Star Flower is all this time trying to revictimize herself by seeking another abusive tyrant to replace her father. She stays with Clear Sky because she thinks it's what she "deserves" and that she "understands" him because her self-hatred really runs that deep.

Okay, but why does Clear Sky like her? Oh well. In his own words:

she's young.

she will never betray him.

she had "complete faith in him" and "would follow him without question"

she would obey him.

(He thinks to himself, on page, "finally. he had a mate worthy of him". Fucking normal. Let's kill him)

All of these things -- Clear Sky tried to instill onto Thunder:

Regarding age: happily exploited that by denying him having any opinion.

Regarding betrayal: he considers "disobeying" as betrayal, and "questioning" as disobeying. For Thunder's betrayal, he tried to murder him and his friends.

Regarding following him without question: constructed humiliating games in retaliation for that.

Regarding obedience: causes explosive reactions even after his "redemption arc" and Thunder becoming an adult, good example of that is the beloved Festering Wound Face Shoving scene

Essentially what I'm trying to convey is that he was grooming the traits he considers attractive in a young woman onto his child. But according to DotC that's incredibly romantic and awesome and not worth thinking about for very long.

She's essentially an abused 18 year old who thinks she's so awful she deserves a serial killer, while his mouth starts watering that his reward has finally come. So anyway she gets kidnapped during her pregnancy where Clear watches her get sexually assaulted in front of him for drama reasons and then has a graphic birthing scene where they describe pain and viscera in a near obsessive manner and then has 1000 babies with him forever normal series

V. Misogyny summary

I won't even list all of the other baffling terrible writing choices that ruined any semblance of a story still left in DotC. Like oh yeah Gray Wing tries to proselytyze to Wind Runner over the corpse of her stillborn baby (that he said was a good thing he died because it was weak) and Clear Sky's reverse leper colony suggestion what else is new. But one of it's most egregious elements is how the female cast is treated and it's actually insane even for Warriors standards like Look At This

8 women in total have died to serve male characters' arcs: Fluttering Bird, Bright Stream, Storm, Misty, Bumble, Rainswept Flower, Petal and Turtle Tail. Only a couple of them ever get to be their own people aside from that, and that's being generous.

Bright Stream, Clear Sky's first dead girlfriend, got eaten by eagles when she was pregnant because Gray Wing was too busy staring at his brother's muscles to notice her being in danger. Now she's a forever mommy for her dead fetus angel babies in heaven (no she did not even give birth yet these are fucking fetuses)

Storm, Clear Sky's second dead girlfriend and also Gray Wing's crush for some reason, gets pregnant then leaves his camp after being subjected to his controlling behavior for so long, then has a building collapse on top of her and her dying words is her apologizing to Clear Sky, because she should have never left her abusive husband apparently.

Gray Wing treats Turtle Tail like shit and also tries to control everything she does, hates the fact she has friends outside of him that he doesn't approve of (Bumble) and insults them on every occassion. This is very cute and awesome and he gets to date both her AND his new wife Slate in heaven. Oh yeah and she does get ran over by a car in book 3 (specifically a Ford Model T) (I don't know either) for the usual man pain reasons and they can't even bury her body

The entirety of Bumble

^and how TOM is treated with more respect than her. TOM. EVERYTHING about his "redemption arc". The authors even defend him outside of the books, getting heated over a fan not understanding it.

Clear Sky kills Rainswept Flower when she wasn't harming him in any way (other than telling him that he is greedy and sucks) which is then retconned to make him look better, into: him actually blacking out and not remembering it, it being predestined actually and just an accident, that he had no control over(???) while Rainswept Flower herself I don't think is ever even mentioned afterwards.

They find a way to somehow blame the nearest woman, Tall Shadow, for The First Battle. Her and Clear Sky are equals apparently, because well you see, he might be a bloodthirsty, abusive tyrant but you know what Tall Shadow is? a Woman

Storm only ever shows up as a fucking ghost so she could suck Clear Sky's toes and reassure him forever while being his perfect dead wife #2. These are all her appearances after she died

Clear Sky can abuse, smack around and kill any woman he ever wants without consequences; but the line is drawn where he starts harming male characters too. That's where he's going too far.

Clear Sky's fucking innocent old dying mother is blamed for how he turned out. Because she was mean to her son after finding out about everything he did, the characters "realized" that his cruelty must come from her. Guys it was all his bitch mom's fault we swear

Women can't be allowed to be mothers and ambitious at the same time in DotC. Wind Runner nearly completely loses her personality after she gives birth, and Gray Wing thinks to himself that he's so glad that she's "more focused on her husband and kids now instead of trying to tell other cats what to do"

Kind of related to above, but Wind Runner and Tall Shadow, who are presented as the like "strong female leaders" of the arc (as literal founders of WindClan and ShadowClan), are continuously treated lesser than their male leader counterparts: their groups lack confidence in their actions, Gray Wing is considered more of an authority than them, are given more family-related obligations than their male counterparts, etc etc.

For even more man pain for Clear Sky, Slash kidnaps pregnant Star Flower, and in front of him, pins her down and licks her face, while threatening her fetuses and cutting her cheek open.

Clear Sky is so distraught by this he has to smack (or, more accurately, rake the face of) the nearest woman, Quick Water, to blow some steam off. But it's okay, he was Just Stressed.

Even with Star Flower, they gotta tease that Clear Sky might loose another wife with how they wrote her birthing scene. Gray Wing is witnessing her bleeding out, and thinks to himself that he's been thinking about Star Flower too much while this was happening. Even while she's actively bleeding out while giving birth (if I gotta write any variation of "giving birth" here one more time I swear to god-), because what abOUT CLEAR SKYYY??????

Violet Dawn's entire existence is to solely be a girlfriend to Thunder; who fall in love with each other in the span of two chapters. Even more bleak by the fact that Violet was being harassed by Slash into agreeing to be his mate for so long, and then this stranger comes along and also is immediately obsessed with her.

Slate and Violet Dawn (reward wives of Gray Wing and Thunder, respectively) have to be conjured out of nowhere because they killed every potential woman for someone's man pain.

Female characters are treated so poorly in this arc, they're practically "objects" to be "won" and "deserved". All of the main and major male characters' arcs are concluded by them getting a wife at some point -- Gray Wing with Slate, Clear Sky with Star Flower, Thunder with Violet Dawn, Jagged Peak with Holly. All of the main and major female characters either get fucked over for another guy's man pain (usually by dying), get pregnant which ends up defining their whole character by the end, or are Tall Shadow who doesn't do any of these things and is continuously demonized for breathing the wrong way

So yeah TLDR; chickem nunget

#finally............#set to unrebloggable just so it doesnt breach containment #like some of my posts have been doing lately #for me and mutuals only.................

6 notes · View notes