#consort teaser

[fizzydrink698]

consort anniversary | vi sneak-peek

happy second anniversary to consort! as promised, here is the first 2000(-ish) words of consort vi to celebrate the occasion. i hope you enjoy!

word-count: 2667

warnings: references to sexual content, a smidgeon of felix-related angst, a fluffy menace finally makes her appearance

An uneasy sleep must have reclaimed you in the night, because you awakened to soft morning light streaming through the windows – and chambers entirely devoid of Minho.

You sat up, unsteady, the beginnings of a headache already forming. Your thoughts were scattered, muffled as if wrapped in cotton, barely intelligible under the dull throbbing.

An empty bedchamber. Did that disappoint you? The sheets beside you seemed undisturbed, indicating that he hadn’t joined you at any point in the night, hadn’t risen from the couch he’d been sleeping on last night when –

Embarrassment – hot, ugly flashes of it – flared within you, so violent that you physically shuddered in an effort to suppress it. You refused to be so careless again, to risk something so mortifying and so vulnerable as being caught in a position like that.

A tiny voice in your mind uttered thanks for Minho’s order to keep servants out of his chambers until requested. You didn’t want to imagine having to untangle these awful thoughts in front of an audience waiting to dress you for the morning.

The more you dwelled on the situation, the more you could feel something in your chest twist. Shame, perhaps. You couldn’t help but picture last night again and again, your awful thoughts painting over your memories, imagining Minho’s eyes open instead of closed, imagining the curl of his lip as he watched you in disdain, maybe even in disgust–

No.

You felt your expression harden, breath expelling from you in one sharp burst. You hadn’t realised how much anger you could summon at merely an imagined Minho. Already, even at just the thought of him, you found yourself itching to rebuke him, to challenge the contempt you had imagined yourself.

There was a danger that you would spend the whole day in this bed, imagining all the ways in which you could argue with Minho.

So, instead, you forced yourself out of bed, determined to focus on the rest of your day and leave last night firmly in the past.

It was strange to realise just how quiet these chambers were. They were so far removed from the bustling of the palace’s lower floors that even now, as scores of nobles and servants alike rose from their beds and began their days, you could almost mistake the palace for being empty.

The spring morning air was no longer a shock of cold, but pleasantly mild. Perhaps you should make use of the weather today, you thought. It would be good to get some fresh air.

And then, you came to a sudden halt – as a flash of orange caught your attention out of the corner of your eye.

You turned your head, startled, to find a tabby cat perched on the low table of Minho’s chambers, staring you down.

This was not the pampered sort of housecat you had seen in the houses of your mother’s friends during your youth. While this cat seemed well-fed, there were tell-tale signs of the fights it must have gotten into. There was a pea-sized chunk missing from its left ear, and a faint scar on its little orange snout.

Perhaps this was a kitchen mouser? But how had it wandered so far into the palace, all the way into Minho’s chambers? How had it gotten past those heavy wooden doors, not to mention the guards stationed nearby?

You dared to take a step towards it – to no response. The cat continued to stare. Its tail twitched from one side to the other, slowly, almost lazily.

It didn’t move as you approached, instead continuing to eye you with an expression so distinctly unimpressed for such a tiny face.

Of course, the second you lifted your hand towards it, it jumped away from you in the blink of an eye. There was no panic to its retreat, just a vague sense of disdain as it withdrew from your reach.

For one brief second, you were bizarrely reminded of Minho.

To your own surprise, laughter bubbled up in your chest, slipping out between your lips. It lifted a weight off of your chest, leaving you feeling just a little lighter as you observed the way the cat shot you what could only be described as the feline equivalent of a scowl before it padded over to the bed and disappeared beneath it.

Deciding against following the cat and disturbing its hiding place, you chose to head for the door and request breakfast be served outside.

It seemed only right that the lingering worries of the previous night’s events would disappear in the light of a warm spring day.

There was something so calming about the palace grounds in the morning. At your request, a table and chair had been set up at the base of a hill, just by the long winding steps back up to the palace itself, in perfect position for you to gaze out at the huge expanses of land in front of you.

Morning dew budded on the still blades of grass. Clouds slowly drifted across the sky above, the sun hiding behind them, only reappearing at just the moment the air grew too chilly. In the distance, a light layer of fog lingered amongst the trees of the royal forest, retreating further and further with each moment.

There was nothing but peace and quiet.

You breathed deeply, savouring the morning air, as you reached for the last slice of bread. Beside it, in a tiny porcelain dish, sat a little pat of creamy butter. You scraped the last of it up with your knife to carefully spread onto the bread.

Your plans for the day were the same as always. Studying, mostly. You were eager to crack open the most recent council records you could find, already making plans to note down the stances of each member, the factions that might have formed, anything that might be useful.

How soon would Minho talk to his father? How much time did you have to prepare? You should have pressed for more details.

You could ask him at dinner this evening, you realised. It was still such a strange idea, to think that you and Minho could talk to each other so…often, now.

Because you shared a bedchamber, a voice in your mind – one that sounded suspiciously like your mother – reminded you. You should be doing so much more than just talking.

A mouthful of bread lodged itself in your throat mid-swallow, making you cough and splutter as you reached for your tea.

Not that you were particularly eager for that, of course. Last night had been a brief moment of insanity, a sudden break from rational thought, brought on by returning to the bed that held so many strong memories. It had infected your dreams, and even seeped into your sleep-addled actions in the dead of night, but now you had recovered.

Now, once again, you were just as uninterested as he was. Moving to his chambers was good enough to mend your image as a successful, stable pairing. It didn’t matter what happened behind closed doors, because you had gotten what you wanted.

But before you could make an effort to divert your thoughts back towards the day ahead, the peace of the morning was broken.

You watched as a group of palace guards marched into sight, descending the palace steps – and you stilled when you saw the person they were accompanying.

Her Majesty, the Queen.

You sat up a little straighter, as your eyes met across the wide-open space of the palace lawns. She always seemed so perfectly put together, her long dark hair twisted and braided neatly into a bun, the soft and sweeping fabrics of her dress somehow spotless even when brushing against the ground.

In her fine features, there was so much of Felix. You almost wanted to look away.

Instead, you followed protocol to the letter, rising to your feet and bowing your head at her arrival. “Your Majesty.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she replied, and there was a genuine soft note of surprise to her voice that reinforced her words. “If you’re finished with your meal, would you like to accompany me across the grounds?”

You blinked, lifting your head in shock. You’d barely spoken to this woman in weeks. You’d half-expected her to ignore you. You’d half-given up on the affection the two of you had grown for each other during your childhood.

“Y-yes,” you replied, and cleared your throat. “Yes, I’d love to.”

She gave you a smile – one so deeply familiar that it made your heart ache for just a second – and inclined her head, silently offering you the place by her side.

You moved quickly, almost without thinking, barely retaining the grace expected for a lady of your position, as you tried to join her before she could change her mind.

Before the two of you could start walking, however, she first turned to glance at the guards behind her. With a firm, clear voice of a queen, she told them. “I trust I’m accompanied by guards possessing the respect of allowing two ladies some privacy while they talk. Am I not?”

The nearest guard’s eyes widened slightly in understanding, and he hurried to nod at her. “Yes, Your Majesty. Of course.”

“Delightful to hear. The usual twelve paces behind will suffice,” she said, her voice so casual that the comment could almost be described as offhand, before she finally set off. You had to quicken your steps slightly to catch up with her.

And, sure enough, the guards waited until you were twelve paces ahead before they followed – at the perfect distance to remain out of earshot.

This was the woman you remembered from your childhood. Always polite, always charming, and just a little cleverer than she seemed.

You fell into step beside her, searching for something to say to start the conversation. “I heard a delegation from the Lakelands are on their way.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding with a warm smile. “Most of the delegates only came to their position after I left, but I know a handful. Among them is a prince I last saw as a young boy. I look forward to seeing the man he’s now grown to be.”

“That will be nice,” you remarked, looking for something else to say. Something clever, or funny, or charming. It used to be so much easier to talk to her. “Do you miss the Lakelands?”

“Occasionally. Especially in the winter. I’ve never developed a taste for the cold that sets in here,” she said, but there was no trace of sadness in her voice. Nothing wistful. “But what about you? Are you keeping well?”

“Yes,” you replied – but it felt like a half-truth at best. “As well as can be.”

“I’m sure you’ve had so many pleasantries asked about your marriage,” she said. “That’s usually all people can think to talk about, with women like us.”

Her words struck something in you, hooking something strange and raw and tugging it out into the open.

“That’s usually the topic of conversation, yes.”

Her lips twitched, the briefest flicker of a smile. “Then we’ll speak about something else. Are you still keeping to your studies?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, unable to keep your excitement from rushing out. “Practically every day. Mostly, I’ve been focusing on my histories and geography, but I like to brush up on my languages every so often.”

“You did always love studying your histories,” the Queen nodded, and for the first time in your conversation, you picked up on the slightest hint of sadness in her tone.

It sparked a vaguely familiar feeling. An old desire to cheer her, the feeling so ingrained that it felt like slipping on an old favourite coat.

“My new tutor has helped quite splendidly,” you said, with a smile just a touch forced. “I hadn’t realised how much more I could learn with someone following me in my interests, instead of just telling me what I should be interested in.”

The Queen smiled back at you, and hers seemed entirely genuine. “There seems so much to catch up on. I’ve been meaning to talk to you sooner.”

Her words, as light and carefree as she had offered them, managed to hit something deep within you. Your expression faltered, as you felt the words dig into you, like claws gripping your flesh, piercing you.

You blurted out your only thought. “Why didn’t you?”

The question came out in a rush, an outpouring of emotion that you had tried so hard to keep dammed. You watched the way she paused, caught off-guard by your sudden harsh words.

You swallowed, trying frantically to recover some sense of manners. “I mean, I…it’s just I’ve been…I’ve been so alone since…”

“…I know.”

Her gaze grew so soft, as she watched you sadly. There were moments, occasionally, when her eyes were so expressive, just as Felix’s were.

For a moment, you pictured what it must have been like for her, all those years ago. Newly married to a stranger, not just alone but alone in an entirely different kingdom. A kingdom that her father and her father’s father and his father before that had been at war with. A kingdom with a people who mistrusted her, who still mourned for her husband’s first wife, the beloved wife, the wife she must constantly be compared to in public and in private.

You wondered how long it took her to learn to hide those expressive eyes. You wondered if it saddened her to look upon her son, and see those same bright eyes shining back.

“I missed you,” you confessed. “I miss how it used to be.”

“So do I, sweetling,” she murmured. There were only two people in this world the Queen called ‘sweetling’. One was standing in front of her. The other was half a kingdom away, quiet and aching by the coast. “But that’s precisely why I’ve stayed away.”

“What?” You asked, sharp in your confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“There are whispers at court,” she began, before pausing. You detected the faintest exasperation as she continued. “There always are. Right now, they are centred on you.”

“Me?” You repeated. “I haven’t heard anything.”

“Oh, the subjects never do,” she said, her tone sharpening just a touch. You knew she’d had her fair share of experience with court rumours. “It’s no fun for them if the rumour gets dragged into daylight and exposed for the nonsense that it is. Better to let it flourish in the dark, to whisper in secret, and give their empty brains something to spin from nothing.”

“What are they saying?” You asked. You’d half-expected something like this to happen, but you’d always thought your first reaction would be worry, or fear – and yet, right now, the news filled you with nothing but anger.

“They’re harmless, for now. Idle gossip. But if any fuel is added to them, they could prove dangerous–”

“What are they saying?” You repeated, cutting her off. You needed to hear it. You already had an inkling, but you needed it in words.

She sighed. “…Many things. About you and Felix. I’m afraid my son will always be a subject for scandal in your future.”

Felix.

You turned away, eyes searching for the horizon, for something to fix on in the distance.

You hated that this didn’t surprise you. You hated that your paranoia, your constant insecurity about how you were perceived, about how your issues with Minho were perceived, that constant nagging feeling of your marriage being forced under a magnifying glass, was partially justified.

“Anything in particular?” You finally managed to ask when your voice returned to you.

“The stories change every week. Nothing has truly taken hold, which is a good thing,” the queen reassured you. “But until you and Minho…well, when your marriage seemed on shakier ground, I thought it was wise to keep my distance. I thought it would make things easier for you.”

Easier.

Right.

[astarionancuntnin]

Die For You

summary: the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on.

and it seems neither did he.

rating: E

word count: 3.9k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader) (fic wide), shadowheart x you (chapter 1 specifically)

cw: 18+. angst, smut, porn with plot, porn with (some) feelings, ascended astarion, bad breakup, awkwardly avoiding your ex, alcohol induced sex, rebound sex (in the sense that youre trying to forget about your ex but you might have feelings for that other person too), oral sex, fingering, stalking, kidnapping, mild violence.

a/n: i have been working on this for over a month now, i have 2 other chapters also ready BUT im undecided on which ending i want for this, so yall get chapter 1 as a teaser, let me know whatcha think :eyes:

a/n²: this is the start of a long fic (my first one, phew)! i intend to update it weekly-ish, i GREATLY appreciate comments as it helps me test the waters on whats to come with it

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I like (I like) what you like (what you like) Long hair (no bra) that's my type (that's right) You just told me, want me to fuck you Baby, I will 'cause I really want to

-

The ascension was complete. He actually went through with it. 7000 souls, gone. 

Astarion, The Vampire Ascendant.

He convinced you that it’s what was necessary. You thought this would bring him peace. It’s what he wanted. You loved him, and you would’ve gone to the ends of the world for him; in your eyes, after everything he'd been through, it's what he deserved.

“I can hear it at last, how all the lowly creatures of this plane are begging to serve.”

But now that it was done, you couldn’t tell if he was still him. If the vampire before you was still the same you spent that first night in the woods. That same one who admitted to have fallen for you. The same one who thanked you for taking a stand against Araj at Moonrise Towers. And if he wasn’t, who was he now? Did he have anything left from his previous self? And could you still love him if he didn’t?

"The world will stir in fear."

The walk back to camp that day was dreary. As Astarion walked ahead of everyone with his newfound confidence, you were dragging your feet behind the rest of your party. The weight of what you had done, slowly setting in. Your friends asked about your well-being and you reassured them all that everything’s fine! It was just a big day! And you simply couldn’t wait to finally rest. You didn’t have the heart to admit that you were regretting what you had encouraged Astarion to do.

Back at the Elfsong, you wave to your companions an early good night as you are heading to bed, before Astarion pulls you aside.

“My consort, we are so close to our triumph, I can almost taste it.” Even his tone was different. What you used to qualify as theatrical was now leaning towards dramatical.

You freeze and look at him dead in his eyes. Every part of you is looking for any proof at all that he was still himself. After all, you had no way to know if the 7007 souls sacrificed also included his own.

“I think we need to talk,” your voice comes out colder than intended.

“Little love, whatever could be the matter?”

“Just– what in the Hells happened to you in there?” The words come out of their own, tainted with sadness.

“It's quite simple, really: I became a better version of myself. The very best, dare I say. And I have no one else but you to thank for it.”

You cross your arms and evade his eyes, your shame for your actions creeping up on you. “I don’t feel great about it, honestly.”

“Well, what’s done is done, and there’s simply no point in dwelling on the past, is there?”

His disdain for the enormous sacrifice that was made makes you scoff, incredulous. “You’re nothing like the Astarion I knew before.”

“I know. I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Finally free of my past.” He smiles, satisfied. “I’m who I always wanted to be. I have everything I ever wanted, except you, by my side.”

His hand reaches out to you and you quickly understand the offer he’s making: to make you a spawn, his spawn. The whole situation is bittersweet to you; of course you’ve always wanted what he wanted, what was best for him, and you would've spent your lifetime with him in another context, but with how he turned out following the ascension, this future isn't something you can imagine yourself in. Now that this choice is given to you, you know better than to accept. 

You shake your head as you step back, “No… I won’t do it.”

He sighs, dropping his hand to his side, “Seems I misjudged you. I thought we might have a future together, eternity, even. Perhaps you’re not worthy.”

His condescending tone sparks a fury within you. “We’ll defeat the elder brain together. But after that, I want nothing to do with you,” you say as you try to contain the anger rising in your chest. His brows furrow, matching your energy. “So be it. You will regret leaving me, more than anything you live to regret.”

You give him one last angry look before walking to your bed, muttering to yourself as you feel tears swelling up. 

“I regret letting you go through with that damned ritual.”

—

You follow through with your promise. With the Netherbrain gone and your tadpoles vanished, nothing kept you together anymore. You parted ways with all your companions, going out on your own, wherever your next adventure guided you. Finally, a normal life, or something closer to it, anyway. You did miss most of them, for what it’s worth; you considered them your family. You often wondered how Wyll and Karlach were faring in the Hells, and how Lae’zel’s quest to take down Vlaakith was going; you even considered offering your help at one point, but after ending things with Astarion, you needed to be alone. The breakup hit you harder than you expected, it left your heart with a void. He looked happy following his ascension, so why couldn’t you be happy for him? Why was this so hard on you? It’s not something you had ever experienced in your past relationships, usually able to move to the next one rather quickly. You didn’t naturally get attached to people, you used to think that nothing lasts forever, and relationships weren’t an exception. This damned vampire proved to you once again that you were right, although you wished for once you weren’t. He took up all your thoughts, and you had to do something to wash him away.

You occupied your time best by helping people in need, taking bounties left and right, roaming the lands and fighting monsters. When you could afford it, you’d spend the night at the local inn, drinking to numb the feelings. On nights when you were most drunk, you ended up sharing someone else's bed, whoever proposed it to you on those nights. With the alcohol in your veins and your eyes closed, your mind let you believe that you were in his arms again. That it was all a bad dream, and you would wake up next to him, only to be hit by the harsh reality the next morning.

You did anything that you thought would help keep your mind busy. It did work for some time; as long as you were actively doing something – focused on the task at hand – you didn’t think about the past, but the moment night fell and you laid to rest alone, you were back at square one. 

You felt guilty about Astarion’s ascension. Guilty of the impact it had on him and your relationship, guilty of the power you let him have and the consequences that it meant. Even guilty of how you felt about it; it was a vicious cycle that plagued you.

It had been your one and only mistake. You let yourself be blinded by the rose-coloured glasses of your love for him, and although you meant well, you’re very conscious of the damage this decision had on him and potentially the city, but also the 7000 souls sacrificed in the process. Granted, they were already spawns and there was no way to save them from this fate, they could’ve at least have had a chance at living in the Underdark. Yes, you had saved the city – damages aside – lifted a curse, freed everyone and yourself from the Absolute, defeated the chosens of the Dead Three, bla bla bla, but your mind always drifted to Astarion’s fate. What if you had stopped him? Surely, your life would be different now. You would be roaming the streets with him, probably. Maybe living together in the Underdark. He would’ve stayed himself. You would’ve been… happier.

When you receive Withers’ invitation to the reunion, it’s the first time in months you’re actually happy, excited even, to see your friends at long last, but also anxious. Your mind drifts to the vampire you used to love. Would you see him at the reunion? Would he have changed at all? How has he been?

Did he still think about you, too?

Looking forward to the night, you treat yourself out to a nice outfit from the local seamstress. You settle on a simple, yet elegant, black long dress with an open back. The summer night is nice and fresh; you’re glad you went for a long sleeved dress. Your hair, which you decided to let down, also partially covers your exposed back, covering you from the breeze. You reach your old campsite to find out you’re the last to arrive, as you see all your friends already mingling. You decide to talk to Shadowheart first, as she was the one you missed the most, as you had grown particularly closer to her during your adventure. In another life, you would’ve been together, you think. You felt bad about not contacting her sooner, but her joy upon seeing you washes away all guilt. She greets you with a smile and a large embrace.

“Come here you! Gods, I missed you!”

You hold her tight, enjoying her strong hug. 

“Tell me everything! How have you been?”

“Oh you know, a few killings here and there, little shenanigans all around, I’m sure whatever you have to share is much more interesting.” You wish you could say something different, but your adventures really had been that bland. 

She rolls her eyes playfully at your deflection, “And how have you been feeling?”

“Greaaat, every day is a new adventure for me to discover.” You give a poor excuse for a laugh as an attempt to convince her.

She tilts her head forward and raises her eyebrow at you. She knew you better than you gave her credit for. “You know what I meant.” Her gaze points to the side behind you and you give a quick glance to see Astarion disdainfully looking at his surroundings, a silver cup in hand.

You sigh as you turn back to her, the facade falling at once. “I try not to think about it. I… hated what he became, and felt guilty about it. I did take part in it, I could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t.” You cross your arms, recollecting your thoughts. “But I’m starting to think that maybe I jumped to conclusions too quickly when I left him. I miss him and it’s… frustrating. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Seeing him again so soon is more difficult than I originally thought.”

“Did you talk to him?” “I was actually trying to avoid him,” you confess.

“And you think that's healthy?” “It's the only way I'll be able to move on.”

“And how’s that been going?”

“I–” You’re unable to answer her, the truth being that it was going horribly.

She grabs you by your shoulders, bringing your attention back to her, “Hey, you know if you need anything, I’ll be there for you.” You smile, sheepishly, as she brushes your hair behind your ear, softly cupping your cheek. “And if you’re looking for some company to take your mind off of a certain vampire, well, I would be glad to offer mine.” You get lost in her eyes, with her hand soft and warm against your skin. Her invitation is tempting, and your gaze falls on her lips as you speak up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Come meet me when the party's over.” She smiles back, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before walking away. 

You spend the rest of the night catching up with all your friends, always keeping an eye on Astarion, who you notice has been eyeing you as well, as if he was expecting you to approach him, but you never do. You’re convinced nothing good will come out of it and even if you did talk, you’re not sure where you would even begin, so you keep your distance.

As the night settles down, you bid your close friends farewell and sneak out two bottles of wine to share with Shadowheart as she walks you to the inn she’d been staying at. The road is peaceful, and you reminisce about the past with the cleric, indulging in the leftover drinks you stole from the party. When you finally reach the inn, you're both a giggling and stumbling mess, empty bottles of wine still in hand as you enter her room.

As she closes the door behind her, you hear some patrons through the walls yell at you to shut up – it was late and your entrance had been pretty noisy – and you mockingly hush your friend, pressing a finger on her lips.

“Shadoooow, shhhhh” you whisper, your speech slurred. “You’re bothering people.”

“Oh, I’m bothering people? Care to remind me who stumbled their way up the stairs?” She says, laughing, her cheeks blushed by the alcohol.

“Hey– it’s not my fault their steps are so high and your room is so far,” you pout.

“Oh, my apologies,” she takes on a chivalrous tone. “Does my lady require assistance to reach her bed for the night?” 

You answer, matching her tone. “That would be most welcome, dearest.”

You squeal as she picks you up in her arms with an impressive strength, and carries you to the large bed. You giggle when she drops you off, and she leans over you.

“Is my lady satisfied with my service?”

You fail to keep a straight face when you answer. “Most definitely. Thank you, my liege.”

She smiles back softly before crashing next to you, both of you staring at the ceiling, taking in the first moment of silence of your night. A second later and your mind is already thinking about Astarion and you sigh heavily. Your companion instantly notices your change of mood.

“It’s him again, isn't it?”

You groan, grabbing your hair in frustration. “Was I wrong? To let him go through with that damn ritual? Why does he get to live his best life and I’m still feeling awful abo–”

She cups your cheek and pulls your face close to hers, cutting you off with a kiss. 

“How about we get to work on ‘forgetting about him’, hm?”

You nod slightly as you stare into her eyes, and she grins, her hand curling around your neck before crashing her lips against yours once again. You moan into the kiss, feeling the heat spread across your face and to your chest. Her kisses travel from your jaw down to your neck. She pulls your dress down, gradually exposing your flushed chest, before pulling back to take a good look at you, her own face matching your colour.

“You blush so beautifully.” Her voice is soft like velvet, each word making your heart pounce, as she continues to kiss her way down your navel, eventually discarding your dress on the floor.

You hide your face between your hands, trying to conceal the warmth coming from your cheeks and she comes back up to take your hands in hers, revealing your flustered state.

“You’re too pretty to hide yourself like that,” she reassures you with another kiss. “Let me admire you.”

You struggle to keep eye contact as one of her hands makes its way between your legs, teasing your entrance. Her fingers slide easily between your folds, earning her a moan out of you. She finds your clit and rubs you softly, your entire body twitching in reaction to her touch, and you shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, throwing your head back. Shadowheart takes this chance to trace the curve of your breast with her tongue, closing her mouth on its peak and sucking over it. Her tongue works wonders on you, and you whimper as she lightly bites you. 

“Keep singing for me,” She says between kisses, her voice thick with lust. “I love the sound of your voice.”

Her name on your lips is like a prayer as she ravishes your breast, leaving a few love bites over your chest. She pulls back temporarily to remove her own clothing before climbing back in bed, resting between your legs. You barely manage to raise yourself up when she pushes you back down against the bed.

“Lay down love, and let me take care of you. Just the way you deserve it.”

She throws your legs over her shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs, leaving more love bites and she makes her way to your cunt. Her tongue finally finds its way between your folds and she laps at your juices, making sure to lick you clean.

“Gods, you taste divine.”

Her hands dig in your thighs as she devours you and you arch your back at the sensation, taking in the feeling of her tongue entering you. Your hips soon follow the movement, wanting more contact, and she takes the hint, moving to your clit to give it the attention it deserves. You whine when she enters you with a finger, and a second one, slowly thrusting into you, as her tongue circles your sensitive bud. Your chest rises higher and faster as your breathing quickens, and she knows you're close. Your eyes are long gone, but she looks up to you, admiring your state before she speaks up.

“Let it go, love. Come for me.”

She sucks once more on your clit, her fingers pushing harder against that sweet spot inside of you. You throw your head back, grabbing the bed sheets at your sides as you scream her name with the remaining air in your lungs and a crashing wave of sensations washes over you. For a moment, your mind goes blank, there's nothing but pure bliss. You want to stay like this forever; finally at peace, content. As you come down from your high, your legs give out and you pant excessively, trying to catch your breath.

You feel the bed shift beside you and open your eyes to see Shadowheart lazily making her way next to you.

“But– what about you?” you ask, breathless and tired.

“You don’t think I enjoyed myself just now?” She laughs and kisses you. “You’re simply adorable.” She cups your cheek lovingly, brushing your hair away. 

“Tonight was all about you. Plus, I doubt you'd be able to accomplish anything in the state you're in. You can always make it up to me another night,” she grins and boops your nose, smiling tenderly, before snuggling against you.

You watch her as she drifts to sleep next to you, moments before you cave into your own exhaustion. For the first time in months, you get a good, restful night of sleep.

When morning comes, you’re awakened by a god-awful headache, the consequences of last night’s drinking catching up to you. On the bright side, you find Shadowheart wrapped around you from behind, with her face nuzzled in your neck. You smile and hold on to her arm around your waist, linking your fingers with hers. She awakens soon after and greets you with kisses on your shoulder. You turn around to properly kiss her good morning, but the pain throbbing in your head has you groaning and holding your head instead. She catches on quickly and casts lesser restoration on you, fixing your headache instantly.

“Thank you, doc.” You sigh, content, and turn your head to face her. “How will I ever repay you?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something.”

“Mmh, I might have an idea.”

“Oh?” She chuckles. “Colour me intrigued.”

You flip yourself above her, pinning her down before kissing her lovingly. When you pull away, you find her looking at you with the same lust she had for you the night prior. Her eyes fall on your lips before she speaks again.

“You should follow me on my next adventure. I think it would help you clear things up.”

You pull back, now sitting on her, as you take a moment to answer. “I have a few errands to run, but I might take you up on that offer.”

“I still have the room for a tenday,” she raises herself up on her elbows and gives you a pensive look before continuing her thought. “Let me know when you make up your mind.”

You get dressed up and kiss her goodbye, eager to go back to your own inn to get changed and take a much deserved bath. Since the room you had rented was yours for a few days, you might as well take the chance to shop around while you were there; you were in dire need of new equipment for your next adventures. You spend those days getting upgrades for your gear, and visiting the city. Day after day, something felt odd; you had the weird feeling that you were being watched. Every time, nothing would happen, and neither did you see anyone suspicious, but the feeling never left. One night, as you were making your way to your inn, that feeling only got stronger. The streets weren’t busy per say, but everyone you could see was minding their business, discussing amongst themselves. You pressed ahead to reach the inn faster; maybe it was all in your head, but just in case your intuition was right, you didn’t want to take any chances.

As you turn the corner to take a shortcut in a back alley, two figures block your path. In the dark of the night, you can’t make out their identities, but their threatening auras are enough to make you back away. You bump into two more imposing shadows, somehow having managed to sneak up behind you, who quickly grab your arms before you can think of escaping. You try to fight against them but their combined forces pin you down almost completely. You were strong, you shouldn’t have had any issue fighting them off, but their strength almost felt… surnatural. If you had learned one thing during your misadventures, it was that when brute strength wasn't an option, you had to aim for their egos.

“Come on, four against one? How's that fair? Are you so weak that you can't face me alone? Let me get the chance to fuck you up, one after the other.” You smile cheekily, your blood running hot, ready for a fight. Karlach would be proud.

The bandits remain unphased by your taunting, with only one of them answering to your banter.

“We won't fight you. Our Master requested that you be brought alive.”

“Aw, poor lil pup can’t do anything without its master's permission,” you say, mocking them, and you laugh disdainfully at them. “You’re fucking pathetic.” 

The figure moves towards you and you’re slapped with a strength that would’ve made you fall to your knees, had you not been held by the two other goons.

“ENOUGH!” Another figure speaks up. “Remember the Master mentioned that she be left unharmed.”

You lift your head back up, your breathing ragged by your furor. “How about you bring me to that master of yours so I can show him who he’s messing with?”

You wish you could take back your words as another figure appears, stepping out from the shadows, this one all too familiar.

“Hello, my sweet.”

-

I bet they planned it all out like the shows Went everywhere I go Walked in the store right behind me Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run That they could shoot, but that's no fun 'Cause then they're killing the stolen son, oh

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ with one lost is the gain of someone greater

Word count › 5k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › anal fingering, light nipple play, rimming

(Words to know—

Baobei: baby, affectionate from a parent to child

Ge: older brother (doesn’t have to be related, can be romantic)

Di: little brother

Wangliang: demons, spirits, any malevolent creatures

Jiangshi: hopping vampire that sucks one soul out)

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

The soft sound of feet patter against the ground shook a woman awake as she saw her sun run up to her. Her son huffed, face stained with tears as he waited for her to say something. She only sighed as she got out of bed and guided him to the mirror on the small table.

She gently forced him down to a kneel, with her joining as well to be height level with his face. The boy stared straight at the mirror as his mother cleaned up his bruises, taking out any twigs in his hair as well.

This wasn’t the first time this happened. It always happened whenever the boy went out. Whenever he tried to gain his father’s approval.

“I’m pathetic compared to my siblings!” He suddenly blurted out as his mother cleaned up a slit in his lip.

She glared at him. “How can you say that about yourself?”

“He seems to think so! I don’t matter to him. I don’t matter to anyone!”

“You do matter, (Name). Emperor Chu is a very busy man. An important man. Emperor Chu gives you a life many other children dream of. Appreciate it.”

“Papa doesn’t care for me.”

“(Name). You know you must call the emperor by his title.”

“Why? I can call you mama.”

(Name)’s mother sighed as she gently pulled his hair out of the ponytail, allowing it to stay out. She continued to fix his hanfu, making sure it fit his more frail body. He had always been sick. He knew that. The hanfu felt a bit big on him. His sickness only caused him to be stunted in growth compared to other boys.

The shoulders of the hanfu had to be bunched up to not fall off. But his sickness was no shock.

How could it be when his mother herself was known to be weak as a child. She couldn’t play like the other children. Confined to her room as she coughed up blood. It was a miracle she lived so long, even having a baby boy. But it only meant he received her illness.

“Emperor Chu loves you. It may not show but Emperor Chu doesn’t have favorites—loving all of you equally, like a emperor must.”

“But he doesn’t love you equally like his wife.”

“Please, (Name), do not refer to His royal highness so casually. If you get tired of saying Emperor Chu so much, call him by his other titles. I want you to be safe.”

“He’s my Papa.”

“He’s an Emperor first. My Baobei, please, for me.” Her dark hair framed her pale skin beautifully. It was no wonder Emperor Chu chose her as a consort. Such a beautiful woman could only belong to a powerful man. (Name) didn’t understand this well at the age of ten but he knew deep down that his mother wasn’t as lucky as the maids thought she was.

(Name) simply nodded. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, it’s important to practice formal speech, Baobei.”

(Name) simply nodded. He didn’t like his life at all. Staying indoors. Being forced to watch his siblings be doted on by his father while he only sends a maid to give him gifts. It wasn’t like the illness was contagious. Many people came near him or touched him and nothing happened to them months later.

This silly illness. It was ruining his life.

ꕥ

“Seventh Prince! Consort Yuying has requested you. Please, get him dress.” A guard said outside his door. The maid in (Name)’s room, Xiulan, got up from her seat on the floor and began to pull out his clothes.

(Name) sat up from his bed, glancing out at the opened doors to the mini courtyard that belonged to him and his mother. Consorts usually got their own sections of the palace. Since his mother was the ninth consort, many expected she’d get the leftovers but her being the prettiest, they had earned the more fancied one. The first consort was the emperor’s wife.

So she wasn’t even truly a consort anymore. She was an empress.

Xiulan motioned for him to get up as she removed his sleepwear, slipping on his hanfu and shoes. He bent down a little for the short woman to pull his long hair up into a bun. No one ever cut their hair. It was the hair from their parents. They shouldn’t disrespect it. Shaving was mostly fine. But (Name) didn’t grow much on his face.

His illness, is what his doctor had said.

“Seventh Prince is ready.” Xiulan stated as she opened the sliding door on their right. The guard there simply nodded and bowed in respect to (Name). The lower class referred to any child of the emperor in terms of when they were born.

(Name) was the seventh son, so he was named the Seventh Prince. He was also the last child. The youngest. It didn’t help that he was also terribly sick most of his nights so almost everyone babied him to an annoying degree.

When he was younger, it bothered him but now, as he felt weaker by the day, it made sense. He could hardly walk far without needing to stop.

He was weak. He needed every ounce of protection they gave him. But he was only sixteen.

His mother…

She wasn’t doing good.

The room she was in was close to the Emperor. It was so he could visit her with ease. She was bedridden most of the time, asleep as her health deteriorated. (Name) didn’t visit her much. He knew it wasn’t good to do such a thing to do her.

She needed to see her only son but he was scared.

To be confronted with the reality that she’s dying.

That he’s dying, too.

“She’s inside, Seventh Prince. I’ll be waiting here.” The guard said, holding his staff close to him. (Name) nodded as he walked inside the room, for the first time in maybe months.

There was his mother, her hair thinning. It was no longer shiny and thick. It was almost breaking off. Her normally beautiful sharp cheek bones looked scary with her skinnier face. She was dying.

(Name) pushed through any sight of distress and walked over to kneel down beside her body. The maids in the room made sure to give a bit of space for him, but hovered around just in case her health took a turn for the worst.

“Baobei…” Yuying sighed, tears streaming down her face. She reached one frail hand up to touch his face, cupping his chubby cheek. A small laugh left her lips. She had missed this. His cute cheeks that puffed out whenever he pouted or stuffed his mouth.

Pouty lips that were turning too pale for her liking. Yuying grunted as she moved to sit up, much to the maid’s dismay. (Name) tried to make her stay down but she somehow pushed him off. Whatever strength she had was still there. She was supposed to be only thirty-five but she looked fifty.

“Baobei, I failed you.”

“No. No. Mama, I failed you. I got so scared to see you. I didn’t want to see you like this but that was so selfish of me. Please, forgive me.” He cried, leaning his head on her shoulder.

Yuying reached a hand into his hair and pulled out his bun, allowing his long black hair to fall out. (Name) pulled away and looked at her in confusion. He watched as she played around with it, a smile on her lips.

“I missed your hair. It was healthier than mines.”

“Mama…”

“Baobei, I don’t have much time left. They’re taking so much from me and I couldn’t stop them. What I have…” Yuying coughed, blood splattered on (Name)’s face but he was too shocked to react.

“No, the doctor said you had a few years left. Please, please. Don’t…”

“Baobei, listen to me. This isn’t a normal Illness. We aren’t sick.”

“What are you talking about Mama?”

Yuying glanced around, as if she was scared someone was watching.

“I’ve called a shaman to help you. He’s been here the entire time, watching you. He told me he’s ready for the attack.”

“Mama, you’re not making sense. Let’s lay down…”

“Baobei!” She yelled, a look of anger in her eyes. “Once I lay down I’m gone. Let me tell you this so you don’t face this fate. My mother came from the Xians. It gave me the ability to see the future with eternal beauty. This caught the attention of many Wangliang.”

“Wangliang…? But they don’t exist. Xians aren’t real. No one could be immortal.”

“Xians don’t just have immortality. But this doesn’t matter, what matters is that your illness is because a Wangliang is feeding off of you like a parasite. And it’s not just one. It’s why you have been getting weaker much faster than I did when I was younger.”

(Name) felt dizzy. He didn’t understand. His mother seemed to know from his face as she sighed.

“Baobei… I have a notebook that’s tucked somewhere in your room. Find it, it’ll give you more insight. But just know, your ability is something stronger than mines. Mines could only grant me ten seconds into the future. Your ability, it seems to deal with your heart.”

“Mama…. Why are you speaking as if today is your last..?”

“It is, Baobei. It’s too late to save me.”

“No. No! This shaman you spoke of, why can’t he save you?!” (Name) yelled, gripping at his mother’s hanfu. She simply smiled at him, cradling his face as she leaned in to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

“There’s only so much you can do for someone as old and frail as me. I used my ability for wrong reasons. I deserve my fate.” She pushed back a lock of hair to place behind his ear. “I’m blessed to say my goodbyes.”

Yuying moved to lay back down on her bed as she smiled up at her son. “I love you, Baobei.”

Then her eyes were closed.

(Name) screamed out as he shook his mother, hoping she would awaken. The maids in the room called out for the doctor, one trying to pull (Name) away from his mother’s corpse but was swiftly pushed away. He cried out in pain, a cry that was never heard from the boy ever in his life.

“Mama! Mama, please!” He chanted, rocking her body back and forth. People rushed into the room but (Name) couldn’t lay them any mind. His mother was gone. His mother, his only true parent was gone.

He was all alone.

Strong arms gripped him tightly and pulled him away from the body, easily subduing him. (Name) weakly fought against the man’s hold but could only whimper out for his mother to wake up. The one day.

The one day he went to see her and she was gone.

The man holding (Name) ended up being Emperor Chu and the Eldest Prince, Laohu who took over once his father had to check the body. (Name) cried in his brother’s arm, holding him close. Despite them having different mothers, they were close.

His twelve siblings all loved him well. Emperor Chu had seven boys and five girls. A good luck that many praised him for. Laohu was much older than most of the siblings. Close to his late twenties by now. He acted as (Name)’s father at this point as Emperor Chu couldn’t bother to be one.

“Ge… Ge!!” (Name) cried, wishing he had died with his mother. He couldn’t continue like this. Not without his rock.

“Di, can you stand?” Laohu muttered.

(Name) didn’t answer. Laohu nodded towards one his other brothers, the Sixth Prince, and motioned for him to help carry him to his room. Sixth Prince, Donghai, helped Laohu carry their younger brother to his room.

The death of a consort, no matter how little she mattered to the emperor, was a devastating loss. Everything stopped as they were allowed to mourn. And it was warranted for Yuying. She wasn’t just a consort.

She was someone to the lower class people before Emperor Chu found her.

She was a light of hope in their dark days.

And now she was gone.

(Name) was never the same after. And neither was his family.

ꕥ

“Di, please, you’ve been through here a thousands times before. You should’ve found it by now if it was truly here,” Donghai said, watching as (Name) once again turned every pillow and blanket to find the notebook his mother had once mentioned.

(Name) glanced at his brother, “Ge, you don’t understand! She said it’d be here for me. She mentioned a shaman!”

“Shamans aren’t people you should trust, Di. Please, you’re already getting more frail,” Donghai grasped his brother’s hand, (Name)’s thin hands looked small against his.

(Name) knew everyone was anxious for him. His mother died earlier than the doctor had estimated. Everyone walked on eggshells, hoping to not awaken to the news that they lost him too. It had been only three years, (Name) was nineteen. But it still felt like yesterday some days.

Donghai was the one worried the most. He was the sixth son but eleventh child. They were only two years apart in age. He had a relationship to (Name) that the other brothers didn’t have.

Laohu and Donghai had a love for him that rivaled his mother sometimes.

The other four brothers didn’t speak much to (Name) but the rare times they did, they cared deeply for him. But they focused more on their positions in the military. Two were twins and one shared the same mother as Laohu. Only four years younger than him. The last one, the Second Prince shared a mother with the Eldest Princess.

She was the first child. But she was never home, having married off to a man in a neighboring state. But whenever Laohu visited, he always told (Name) she was happy.

“I will be fine… but thank you for worrying.” (Name) smiled.

Donghai didn’t looked convinced but nodded.

“Sixth Prince! Emperor Chu has requested you to the throne room!”

“I will see you at dinner.”

“Bye, Ge.”

(Name) waited for Donghai to leave before he continued his search for his mother’s notebook. He wished she had told him where. But all he had to go with is that it should’ve be hidden that no maid could come across it while cleaning.

Xiulan wasn’t going to enjoy having to clean his room after this mess he was making. But he couldn’t worry about that. His mother came first.

He was feeling weaker by the minute and if this notebook could save him, he’d find it. The sliding door open, pausing his search as he looked over to see Consort Yue Lin. She was Laohu’s mother.

(Name) quickly bowed, showing respect to her. The second consort. She was very important to the emperor behind his wife. Many wondered if it was because his wife only gave him a daughter with no sons. It certainly made her seem pathetic in terms of Consort Yue Lin.

“(Name), if I may call you that, how are you feeling?” Yue Lin kneeled down next to (Name), her brown hair pulled into an intricate braid with flower pins holding them place. She certainly dressed as a queen.

“I have had better days, Consort Yue Lin.”

“I lost my mother quite young as well. Not as tragic as you but I know your pain. Laohu loves you. Very much. I think he loves you more than me,” she laughed. “Know that he is someone to talk to. He has reached his thirties. He’s wise. A… a father figure.”

(Name) was shocked that Yue Lin acknowledge the poor parenting skills of an emperor. But she want wrong. Laohu was a father to him. Not Emperor Chu.

“The Shaman…”

(Name) stared at her in fear.

She simply grinned. “I saw him once. He’s hidden himself as a knight very well. But he’s around here. He’s one of the knights that guards the entrance to the gate leading to the forest. However, if anyone told you, I never knew.”

“Yes, of course!”

“As for the notebook, floor.”

“Floor…?”

“Floor.” With a curt nod, she rose up and walked out of the room, subtly pointing at a spot near the closet. The door closed behind her as (Name) rushed over the the closet door and felt around on the ground.

He gasped when one felt loose. With ease, he pulled off one of the floor board to see the notebook underneath. He quickly grabbed it and placed the board back into its spot.

He’d give an excuse to why one of the floor boards were broken. What mattered now was that he got what he had been looking for.

The notebook was mainly a diary. Laying down a timeline of Yuying’s time before she was found at age eighteen by Emperor Chu to become his last consort. By the next year, she was pregnant with him.

She was happy. Stating how much Emperor Chu loved her despite him being near 40s when he impregnated her. It didn’t shock (Name). He knew his father was creepy when choosing the woman he wanted. Past emperors choose their women the first year he was given the title. But Emperor Chu waited.

He waited for each beautiful woman to be ready for marriage and to bear children.

It give him twelve so many didn’t go against him, even if they wondered what he could’ve truly had in common with such a young bride.

“Baobei.”

That voice.

(Name) closed the notebook, right was he was about to reach his mother’s words on the so called ‘Wangliang’. He placed the notebook on the ground and followed the sound of his mother into the forest near his courtyard. (Name) struggled to jump over the fence but was finally able to when something grabbed him.

His head was hurting but his mother’s voice took over. Calling to him. The snow crunched beneath his bare feet as he walked over to wherever his mother was. He could feel eyes on him. Watching him as he walked to his death.

Grief was a powerful thing.

It clouded one’s judgement. They couldn’t think straight.

The trance he was in was gone once he reached the middle of the forest, dressed in a light hanfu, not made for the cold weather. He wrapped his arms around himself as he looked around. The night sky made the usually calm forest seem scary.

Only the moonlight was his light. It shined down on him, as if mocking him for being so foolish. The crunching of snow near him shock him as he turned around erratically, looking to see who was coming close to him.

“Baobei… come to mama.”

(Name) watched in horror as something tall and imposing walked from it’s hiding spot. It was lankey and tall, long limbs that no human could ever have. A white face with dark black eyes, a large sinister smile. Blood was coated on it’s lip as it bent down slightly to level itself with (Name).

“Baobei.” It said in his mother’s voice.

(Name) felt his knees collapse beneath him. He dropped to the floor, staring up at the unknown beast. This was a Wangliang…? It began to laugh, in a voice that belonged to a multitude of people.

It’s jaw unhinged as a long tongue slithered out, reaching over to caress (Name)’s face. He felt himself blank at the gross tongue touching him. Was this how he died?

Donghai… Laohu…

His mother.

He didn’t even get to see the shaman.

(Name) closed his eyes tightly as the Wangliang’s tongue tightened around his throat, leaning down with it’s wide jaw to swallow him whole when a shriek was heard.

The Wangliang cried out with it’s tongue but clean off. Black blood splattered across (Name)’s face, sending him into a quick shocking memory of his mother doing the same on her death bed. He could only stay still on the floor as whoever it was, killed the beast in front of him.

It was dressed in his people’s knight uniform. He swung around a Guandao with ease. A long staff with a sharp curved blade at the end. The Wangliang screamed as it tried to fight back only to easily be killed with a slice at it’s neck.

The head fell down not too far away from (Name) as black blood sprayed out of the corpse, covering the knight’s face and body. But he didn’t seem phased. He only wiped it away with his hanfu and muttered a quick prayer before sprinting over to (Name).

“Seventh Prince! Apologies for being late. I did not notice when you left.”

The knight kneeled down to grab (Name) only for (Name) to jump into his arms. He paused for a moment, wondering if there was something wrong only to see that (Name)’s body trembled in his arms.

“Are you… Are you the shaman Mama was speaking about?”

“Yes. Consort Yuying paid me to protect you. If she caught the Jiangshi before it fully killed you, she thought you will survive. But it isn’t just the jiangshi killing you.”

“I don’t understand.”

The shaman simply hummed. “I do not expect you to understand, Seventh Prince. You do not need to worry much about what is happening. What matters is that you trust me,” he wrapped one arm around (Name)’s waist.

(Name) pulled away from his neck and stared at him, wanting to get a good look at who this man was. His long hair was pulled into a ponytail, giving a clear look at his facial features. Monolids with medium size lips. A prominent nose that was actually beautiful to (Name).

He knew others would possibly view the man as ugly but he couldn’t help the flutter in his heart.

“Do you trust me?” The man asked.

“Your name?”

“… Fa Yichen.”

“That doesn’t seem like you’re real name.”

“It is not. But when you prove yourself to me, I will tell you,” Yichen said, a faint smile on his lips. It looked off for someone to be smiling while their face was splotches of blood but (Name) supposed it wasn’t human blood.

“I’ll call you Ge.”

“I do not deserve such title. Call me Yichen.”

(Name) pouted but nodded. Yichen stood up, holding (Name) in his arms with ease. The man was tall, having to possibly be 6’4 or maybe even 6’6. (Name) wasn’t sure. All he knew for sure was that Yichen had an intimidating stature.

Muscular all around. He put (Name)’s military brothers to shame. (Name) wrapped his arms around his neck, allowing him to carry him back to the palace. His feet were dirty with snow. But he couldn’t feel it well due to the cold.

He just wanted to warm up.

Once they reached (Name)’s room, Yichen placed him down on the bed and immediately went to leave.

“Ge!”

Yichen turned back to face him, “Yichen. I do not deserve such a kind title.”

(Name) grinned. “Sorry, I will not do it again.”

He will do it again.

“Is there anything you need? I can call Miss Xiulan to come clean you.”

“I want you to. We can get to know each other!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“I’m sorry.”

“How can I trust you if you won’t do a simple task?”

Yichen’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance before grunting. “I’ll start the bath.”

(Name) smirked to himself. Perhaps he could get Yichen into the bath with him. Hey, it might been a bit weird to try and get some random man into a bath with him but he wasn’t exactly thinking.

His first time alone with a very beautiful man.

“Seventh Prince, the bath is ready.”

(Name) walked over to the connected bathroom and began to strip out of his dirty clothes. He wasn’t sure how he could explain the blood on them. Maybe that it was paint.

His clothes pooled on the floor around his feet as he glanced over to see if Yichen was watching him. The shaman was looking away with a light blush on his cheeks. (Name) grinned. He wasn’t exactly doing anything with that.

He was just used to being naked in front of maybe people so he forgot not everyone would be comfortable with it. “Apologies. I was raised to not be bothered by nudity.”

“It is no issue. I’ll leave you to your bath.”

“No!”

Yichen stopped himself from leaving.

“Can you wash me? Xiulan does most of the work, I cannot suddenly do it alone.” (Name) said, walking over to the bath as he slipped in.

Once Yichen counted to ten in his head, he turned around to see (Name) fully covered by the water. (Name) grinned as he watched Yichen fumble around looking for the soap. It was different from Xiulan who moved with grace, sliding the soap all over him with ease and the muscle memory.

Yichen was slow. As if he was scared that if he went too fast, he’d tear (Name) apart. It wasn’t an unfounded fear. (Name) was small in every way compared to Yichen. Especially with their sizes.

Yichen’s hand almost covered (Name)’s entire back. And the brief moment they stood close together, (Name)’s head only reached his shoulder. But it was honestly the perfect height for him to just rest his head there if they hugged.

“Ge…”

“Yichen.”

“Why was my mother too far gone?”

“Consort Yuying had been losing her life force to the Jiangshi since birth. They went after her due to her soul being more powerful than any ordinary human.” Yichen reached down to trace (Name)’s chest, the area where his heart was.

“Jiangshi loves souls. The more powerful, the more they want it. It is more of an unfortunate situation that her parents did not know of the Wangliangs that roam the earth.”

“If they had know…”

“Consort Yuying could have lived a fruitful life. But that is the past, we cannot change what has been done. I promised your mother that she could pass with me caring for you.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew…”

“She was fearful that she’d scare you. That it would have sent you straight into a Jiangshi’s awaiting mouth.”

(Name) hummed as he leaned back into the touch of Yichen. Yichen’s hand that held the rag roamed his body, not touching his legs or anything lower than his stomach. (Name) bit his lip, reaching up to grasp the hand resting on the tub.

Yichen hesitated for a moment before continuing, “do you want to wash your hair?”

“Another time. It’s a process.”

(Name) glanced down at his body, blushing at his hard nipples. Yichen seemed to not notice, really focused on bathing (Name) as if it was his job. It was a bit of a disappointment from his dream but he knew he had a weird imagination.

“Seventh Prince…”

“Yes?”

“I must tell you, sex is heavily influenced in your mother’s kind. The Xians.”

“Those immortal humans?”

“The original Xians were immortal, yes. But your mother’s family was a more muted version of them. You don’t live forever. But to awaken the power at first, a connection to the body is needed.”

“A connection?”

“Please, tell me whenever you are uncomfortable.”

“Yichen?”

A gasp left (Name)’s lips when he felt a tug at his nipples. He arched his back, his head resting on Yichen’s shoulder as he pulled at both nipples. Yichen’s much larger hands cupped his chest entirely. It sent a shiver down his spine.

How could he hands look against other parts of his body…?

“Stimulation is a great way to connect to one’s body. It is the fastest way other than meditation. Next time we can do meditation.”

(Name) did not want to do medication next time.

Yichen’s fingers rolled (Name)’s nipples around, watching every reaction the Prince gave him. In any other circumstance, he would’ve told his client to do it themself.

But he knew (Name). Ever since they were babies.

And he wouldn’t lie that he was physically attracted to him. There was no way he’d get another chance like this. (Name)’s soft whimpering filled in the room as one of Yichen’s hand moved downwards to grip his ass.

The squeak (Name) released, one that reminded him of a cute hamster, was music to Yichen’s ears. Yichen probed at (Name)’s hole, enjoying the sounds from (Name)’s lips.

“I’ll need to take you out of the bath so I can properly stimulate you.”

“Please…”

Yichen easily picked up (Name) and held him close as walked over to the bedroom. He checked to make sure the sliding doors were closed from the courtyard so no cool air came in. With that, he laid down on the floor, keeping (Name) on top of him.

“Relax and let me take care of everything,” Yichen pulled him up to bring his asshole near his lips. It was eye opening to feel something foreign touch his ass.

(Name) gripped at the floor beneath him as he cried out in pleasure as Yichen thrusted his tongue inside. He was shocked at the fact something could fit inside of him. Yichen’s grip on his thighs were tight, holding him close to his body as he explored his asshole.

He felt close. His cock twitching, ready to release. (Name) flinched when he felt something probe at his asshole, a finger this time. He blushed, wondering how Yichen’s finger would feel deep inside. One finger slowly pushed in as he pulled his tongue away.

His one finger was thick, it felt like two. (Name)’s body twitched as he cried out, feeling the finger drag against his warm walls. He clenched around the finger before feeling himself cum. Much to his disappointment, Yichen pulled his finger out and maneuvered (Name) to lay down on his bed.

“Do you feel differently?”

“I feel tired…” (Name) sighed. “But something feels… light…”

“Good. In the morning, we will talk more.” He moved to get up.

“Ge, don’t leave…”

“I—”

“Di! Where are….”

(Name) and Yichen stared at the door showing a shocked Donghai. Donghai glanced at the wet naked body of his younger brother and the strange man’s clothing that had indents of water.

Oh, he was about to kill this man.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

I went off the deep end. I wanted to do some medieval Chinese fantasy and I went too far…

Yichen debut! He’ll be coming back in the far future after I do some requests first! Oikawa fic tomorrow!!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo

Number 1 fan: @rainnyydaysworld

Request by: @kazuhazuuu hope it exceeds your expectations! <3

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

When It Breaks (What is Broken AU) Teaser

Thanks to a brilliant anon, after I finish What is Beoken IV, I’m going to dive into an AU where Wifey wasn’t pregnant when Aemond left for Harrenhal. So when Rhaenyra and Daemon take King’s Landing, she is entirely at the mercy of her uncle, who has a well known taste for young Valyrian women…

Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Sister-wife!Reader, Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Reader

When It Breaks

Nephew,

I do hope you continue to find Harrenhal pleasant, even if you have turned the surrounding lands into a fiery hellscape. I quite enjoyed my time there, and I hear you are, as well. But let us not speak of war or death or treason, for I write this to bring glad tidings to our family.

Unfortunately, it is not that your elder brother has been found, captured, and killed. This pathetic attempt at usurpation shall continue for the time being, it seems. Nor is it that your cunt mother has ceased her senseless wailing or proselytizing her cause, though I may indeed go mad soon if she doesn’t.

No, this news is of your sweet sister and wife - what is it you call her? Ābrazȳrītsos? I shall have to come up with something for myself - and my dear niece has recently learned she is carrying a child.

Do send your congratulations hastily, nephew, for I am utterly delighted that I am once again to be a father.

And while this child will sadly be a bastard, those we will have in future will not. My wife, our Queen, has granted me permission to take your ābrazȳrītsos as my second wife. Ah, perhaps I will not have to design my own name for her after all.

Of course, before I do so, I must kill you. It would not do for her to have two husbands, you understand. So enjoy Harrenhal while you can, nephew. I will come for you soon.

Oh, I almost forgot! Congratulations are due to you as well. My spies tell me your mistress is also with child. How fortunate we both are to have such fertile women in our beds.

Signed,

Prince Daemon Targaryen, Consort to Her Grace Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name

[temporarily-your-saint]

Dull Blades

sneak preview of a benjicot blackwood x targaryen oc fanfic ~

word count: 469

tropes: slow burn, angst, daddy issues (lots of family issues in general tbh), forbidden lovers, marriage pact,

warnings: none for this right now! later on it will most certainly have mature themes ~

Helpless. She felt utterly helpless. It was hard to feel anything else in that moment aside from one other: rage. Rhaelana’s amethyst eyes clouded over into a blank stare as an echo rang in her ears.

“Rhaelana?”

She looked up to where the voice was speaking from. Nodding slowly, she walked around her father to pass through her chambers, into the hallway, and then down the cold stone stairs.

It couldn’t be true. They wouldn’t risk that. No, Otto wouldn’t risk that. It’s absolute barmy.

The princess turned down another hallway, scurrying to find her queen mother.

“Mother?” she called out, her voice echoing back to her in the empty halls. “Mothe–“ but before she could finish, a voice interrupted behind her.

“She’s gone. Your mother left on Syrax,” Daemon answered quickly. His eyes bore into hers as she turned around, searching for her thoughts. He recognized those eyes for they were her mother’s. She held that same lost but intense gaze moments ago before coming to tell his daughter of the heartbreaking news.

His shoulders dropped as he took in her appearance. She may have taken after her mother in beauty but his daughter truly carried his rage.

“Well, we must do something, anything,” the princess’s face shifted from anger to desperation as she plead with the king consort.

“That’s not my call to make, Rhaelana. At least not yet. For now, we must wait,” Daemon’s words were firm yet she could tell that he too was frustrated, aching for action. For now, they were to stay put and obey their queen. Though, there were no orders as of yet. But it’s all they had to work with for the time being and Rhaelana hated it.

Her eyes swelled with tears at his words. How was she supposed to wait? Her mother was now gone and her sweet, baby brother slain by their own kin. Their deceitful, wicked kin. Preposterous.

How had it come to this?

Yes, there had been ongoing tension when the family came together while her grandfather, King Viserys, had been alive. But this? To kill a boy. A young, boy. A messenger! She knew her brother had not gone looking for a fight. Oh, how her uncles had stooped so low…

The back of her hand found her cheeks as she wiped the burning tears that began to fall from her eyes.

She took a step forward as a harsh whisper erupted from her throat while the princess spoke, “I will end Aemond. It will come one day that I am to face him and you will not stop me. Nor mother.”

With those final words, Rhaelana strode past Daemon and back to her chambers. Seconds later he heard the old wooden door of her room slam.

Certainly, my daughter, he thought to himself.

══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══ ══

Hi, hello! I’ve been cooking something up while watching the second season. MAAAJOORRR brainrot mode. What started out as a little one-shot blerb in my brain has taken over completely, soooo here’s a little teaser for it. The two parts of Dull Blades will be incorporated into the fic but will have little tweaks! I’m planning on posting Part 3 of it but then that will be it until the actual fic ~

Anyways, I have been having so much fun writing Rhaelana and Daemon’s complicated father-daughter relationship and couldn’t wait soooo here you go—a lil offering before the season finale and before I post Part 3 and then the actual fic. 🤲

[sayafics]

Dance of Shadows - Teaser

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!OC

Hi, this is just a teaser for a little storyline I've been playing around with in my head for a while. Let me know what you think and if you want more!

Chapter I

Masterlist

Saenyra Targaryen was the youngest daughter of King Viserys I and Queen Consort, Lady Aemma Arryn.

The girl was only a year younger than her sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, and she had grown up in her shadow. With no male heir, aside from the Rogue Prince - who was repeatedly banished from the kingdom before finding a fleeting excuse to return - Rhaenyra was seen as the heir of Viserys.

With such recognition came the adoration of both the people of the Seven Kingdoms and their father.

Such notions were not extended to Saenyra, a child who was truly defined by her sex. She was to be traded off as a brooding mare when her father deemed it time. That was what the Lord Hand had told her.

Otto Hightower was a shrewd man, able to recognise even the smallest of cracks which he could weather and weaken. He had found one in Saenyra - a tiny crevice that grew into a gaping wound as her mother gasped her last breath.

A crack in her heart and a tear in her soul that reeked of agony and desolation as her sister sought comfort in Ser Cole, and her father in the unwilling arms of Alicent Targaryen.

Saenyra was a disaster, a wavering opportunity Otto Hightower couldn't allow himself to pass.

***

Saenyra would find herself bumping into the man when she walked to the library, in hopes of finding a book invigorating enough to distract her from her fumbling thoughts. He would tag along, share encouraging words and place a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

Otto was not blind to the lack of parental love she was offered, and though she was a beautiful sight, he knew that becoming the figure that she was missing in her life was the best way to assure she played to his tunes.

Saenyra was not much taller than her older sister. Her hair flowed down her back in tempered curls and brushed across her thighs, her eyes were a violent hue of purple, and her smiles were shy. She did not have Rhaenyra's fierce nature, nor her confident persona - Rhaenyra knew the power she held in her beauty, and she knew how to use it to her advantage.

Saenyra was ignorant to her charms, rarely leaving her room since she had no dragon to tend. Her dragon had not hatched when it had been placed in her cradle, and being a Princess meant she was confined to the Red Keep without a dragon to help her escape.

She could see how her father and uncle looked at her sister in admiration, how her mother coddled and gushed over her when she performed tricks with Syrax. It caused her heart to ache, knowing that she would never be looked at with such adoration, with such love and care.

It was a realisation she had been burdened with for so long. A realisation she had began to hope was false after her mother's death.

As her relationship with her father crumbled to dust, she built a tentative friendship with Otto Hightower - oblivious to the Hand's ulterior motives.

[subzeroparade]

*chant* New fic! New fic! New fic!

So excited you’ve posted a new ER fic, and with a teaser for more to come! 🎉🎉🎉

Since it’s been awhile, maybe I poke your brain on what your thoughts on the DLC are (game play, lord, sceneries, anything you’d like to share with us really)? Has it changed your headcanon on any of the characters, or did you find ways to incorporate the new lores into your interpretations? Most importantly, did you have fun?

*tagged for spoilers but just in case - spoilers •‿•*

Did I enjoy it? YES. Did I have qualms with some gameplay bits? YES but I’m a filthy casual on NG+2 or something and generally Not Good at Game. But I beat it. 

As for lore, it’s really a mixed bag. There’s a ton of stuff I’m delighted to have new or expanded lore for - Marika’s origins, Belurat and the entirety of Hornsent culture, Godwyn’s Death Knights, BAYLE???? VILE BAYLE!!!! etc etc (sometimes I listen to Igon’s voice lines just to psych myself up for real life). There are things I need to adjust my headcanon for a little, as well - St Trina, for example, has always been a facet of Miquella himself to me, a sort of alter ego he willingly takes on, which is how I enjoyed writing her in fic. To have her elaborated here as a separate person means taking that a little further if I write him/her/them again, but I think the parallel it draws between Marika/Radagon is hugely interesting as well.  

iirc there are a couple of instances in the base game where lore almost contradicts itself, but I think in some cases the DLC got a little sloppy. The timeline is also way foggier to me now than it was previously. I was a big fan of the idea that Messmer was entirely unknown to his siblings, written out of history after the Crusade (predating Marika ushering in the Golden Age of the Erdtree), but that contradicts the lore we get on Gaius and Radahn as they’re both personally acquainted with Messmer, and makes me wonder which of the other demigods might’ve been aware of him, and under what pretences might they have met. It makes for a lot of fic ideation, but I’m of the opinion that if you’re writing fic, sticking too closely to (the sometimes unhelpful) lore will stultify the work; so I’m trying to pluck little instances of new lore that interest me to bolster the story I want to tell.  

Like most of the fandom I have a huge beef with Promised Consort Radahn, and I’m still struggling with how to work that into my headcanon. To me, there is simply no reason for it. There are no indications of it in the base game, and you have to tie yourself into continuity knots for it to make any sense - and that’s just bad writing. I’m not against retconning things if they serve a purpose, but this was neither useful nor necessary (nor well done), and that’s fundamentally disappointing for a Fromsoft game. The more people aggressively try and justify it, the more I feel like the potential explanations unravel. If we’re going along with the assumption that Miquella *needs* a lord to ascend, we’ve had Candidate #1 since the base game: Godwyn. Half of what we know about base-game Miquella is that he spent time and resources trying to grant Godwyn some form of peace, while his hideous fate hangs over the narrative in perpetuity. And we give Radahn closure literally in the first act of the game. I’m a firm believer in Miquella knowing 100% what he’s about, but in this singular instance blinded by love for Godwyn and an all-consuming desire to *fix this* by resurrecting some nightmarish, malformed version of him. There’s so much juicy story to be told in Miquella refusing to acknowledge the thing he brought back is not his brother, and for all that godhood and remaking the world into utter passivity can do, it can’t retrieve Godwyn’s irretrievable soul. All that to say, I’d even take Malenia as his promised consort - it would made more sense than Radahn, too.

Anyway tldr I don’t have to think about how disappointing that is now, because the fic I’m working on is around Marika’s ascension, and more specifically Messmer and Melina’s upbringing. There’s another on the backburner but I’m on the fence about it since it hasn’t reached an outline stage yet, and I don’t start anything unless I am 100% sure I know how to finish it, and finish it well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Ty for the ask! As is the case with me, the rest of my musings on the lore come through in fic writing, because those are the texts dumps I’m good at. Here’s a little (young) Melina and Messmer wip as thanks. 

[vanilleandclove]

here is a teaser for the targaryen!reader x ser erryk, feeling quite generous :)

"Since the dawn of our birth, father has exceedingly taken an interest in marrying us both off to a Valyrian house dear sister" you teased to your sister just before you saddled onto your dragon mounts, "And solemnly for us, Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys have only one male child".

Nymeria was a pale purple dragon, reminiscent of your eyes that passed down through generations of Targaryen lineages, your sister's eyes were painted blue, just as your mother's and father's. The townsfolk all spoke of your appearance in great detail in the days they ever saw you. "The favorable yet quieter and fiercer twin", "The twin with more Targaryen than Arryn in her", "The Princess with the mounds of Valryia", "The actual Dark Sister", and your personal favorite, "King Maegor as a consort".

"I love our father dearly, but I do not wish to be married off… especially to someone of father's tastes" Rhaenyra spoke as she pet Syrax gently, earning a light coo from the dragon. Nymeria was larger than Syrax though smaller than Vhagar due to age, the Dragonkeepers all spoke of Nymeria being the dragonseed of Meraxes or Vhagar.

As your sister and yourself took off on riding into the skies of King's Landing, jesting one another into a race. Nymeria outshined Syrax though both dragons were quite fond of one another, sisters though did not share an eggs hatch. If Rhaenyra were to be the daughter of Westeros, you were the daughter of the dragons. Though your father was staunchly disagreed with your attitude and the lack of conformity both you and your sister paraded, he wished you both to be near silent and seen sisters, rather than heard.

[franzkafkagf]

THE QUEEN AND THE PRINCE CONSORT

This fic is going into its 14th slutty, slutty chapter -> heres a little teaser ♡

Synopsis:

What would Westeros look like if King Viserys had taken Otto Hightower's advice and had betrothed his heir Rhaenyra to his firstborn son Aegon?

Rhaenyra would be queen and Aegon her prince consort. She hates it, he hates it.

This story explores both Aegon and Rhaenyra as they navigate the challenges of ruling the Seven Kingdoms as well as the siblings learn to deal with each other and maybe learn to love each other. Told from both their POVs.

[succubusonthedoorstep]

King!Erwin Teaser cause i’m feeling generous <3

The stress ages Erwin, the crease lines on his face tell him so. After spending hours in his throne room and office, he retires to his chambers. An empty bed and crackling fireplace greet him, and Erwin considers asking one of the consorts to stop by, but they’ll never fill the void inside the king.

Truthfully, Erwin wished for the space in his bed to be filled by a wife. Watching his men come home after years on the field to women and children who loved them left him feeling helpless. Consorts were a quick fix to the lasting problem, but he never wanted them around after the deed was done. (Much to their disappointment.)

King!Erwin sits on his throne the following day, absorbed in reading the daily news on parchment. His ear twitches in alert when the heavy gold doors open, but his eyes never leave the paper. An adviser approaches the throne, taking a knee and bowing his head.

“If it pleases the king, may I speak?” Levi, as cool as ever, asks.

“You may.”

Rising from the knee, Levi pulls a second roll of parchment from his robes and unravels it.

After clearing his throat, he begins, “We’ve taken the necessary steps to begin occupying their state. Building the embassy, reducing the presence of their military, and the emperor has formally renounced his “divinity.””

He resisted the urge to spit the word out, and continued.

“All plans are going smoothly, but we do have a small problem.”

At this, Erwin set aside his paper and listened intently. “Small problems” were never a favorite of Erwin, especially seeing how they can grow into a full blown war with millions dead.

“Before the conflict began, the emperor shipped off his only child- a daughter, across the ocean. With her nation falling and father imprisoned, she has returned home to… reason with you.”

King!Erwin knows this could be bad. If you wanted to claim the throne, you’d undoubtedly have the support of your people. How could this information slip through his fingers? Since the tide of war turned in his favor, officials from your country were volunteering valuable information in hopes of getting citizenship in return. How could no one mention an heir apparent? 

[drakaripykiros130ac]

Just as I expected, Alicent and her snake of a father have to do the talking during this teaser. Can’t they ever just shut their trap?! They’ve done enough damage.

I wanted to hear THE QUEEN talk! 🖤🔥

And her Prince Consort, of course! 🖤🔥

[arach-tinilith]

You Caught the Light

Part 2 of my Minthara/Naadja fic series!! Thank you to anyone who read part 1 💜

Teaser below the cut

Naadja had failed Lolth, unable to produce a Dreagloth after the ceremony of her graduation. She sat in the anguish of her failure. It was not something she ever wished to feel again. Too much of her life depended on her success. So much so that when a Baenre was offered as her consort, she agreed without hesitation. Though she did not believe she was ready or wanting to do so, the responsibility of her house's future was hers to bear.

[nalyra-dreaming]

A twofer for ya. 1) This Louis is far more ambitious than book!Louis. What endgame could you see for him that's better/more satisfying for him than being Lestat's consort? Especially since him standing behind Lestat would evoke images of their date at the opera house. 2) How critical do you think it is for us to sympathize with Marius, and based on that, do you think they'll keep the sexual/romantic aspects of his relationship with Armand?

Hey dear!

I think that the show version of the "court" (whatever that may be) will them have on much more equal footing. Now, Louis is instrumental for the last arc(s), but there is also a lot of room for expansion. And, I mean, this Louis has a knack for business, right, and let's be real, a court is an enterprise.

That said, I can also see Louis leaving the more tedious aspects of ruling to Lestat (and even more Marius), and after finally accepting himself having a "good time" with the friends he (canonically) makes there. (And I kinda want that for him! He deserves it.)

I think that the show will definitely (if we get our seasons) go into the resolution for them, the acceptance of themselves. And that includes the "blood communions", but also the "blood spouses" thing, and, as the show has already foreshadowed their dance (and arguably showed us their "wedding"), I think that will come back to be mirrored then. Instead of "a prince" we'll probably have princes :)) (though I'm not sure if the show will ever use these kind of titles).

And also, a (blood) communion is held in a church, or a sacrosanct place, right. There is also the crossover with the (catholic) faith here - my body, my blood - literally. In the books this turns to be literally, and I think that theme cannot be dismissed, especially with the canon layering of Louis' view of Lestat as his errrr... personal Jesus.

Now, I do not see this Louis to be as passive as book Louis, or as ... let's call it neutral, but he is still the same character. They're still playing with that imagery, and applying the text here, as we saw from the teaser. I have no reason to believe they'll eradicated this from the character, on the contrary.

And we know that for show Louis his faith was an important thing, and one that made him suffer. And I do not think that the comment "raised religion" can be dismissed totally either, because it means there was a shift in him wrt that. Whatever shift that might turn out to be.

This is all a very long way^^ to say that I think Louis will be involved a lot more in the resolution of it all in the end of the arcs. I think maybe his leanings wrt faith will shift Lestat's own acceptance of their rituals (hints of that are in the book, in the "council session" with Gabrielle and Louis). I think he will just be a lot more involved and shaping the court.

I know why Anne had to let Louis go - but the show doesn't have that problem^^- and so I think they will dig out all the little hints for his "endgame" as you put it.

--

And as per your other question...

OOF.

I do not know.

Do we need to sympathize with him? I mean...

Marius is a very interesting and very complicated character. I don't think he can easily be judged by "today's" standards. We are all children of our times (and circumstances) and.. well. His were definitely different to ours (this obviously goes for a lot of these vampires).

I do think they will keep all the difficult aspects, yes. I do think they will keep the sexual aspects. I do think they will be quite unapologetic about it all.

If the Justin Kirk rumor turns out to be true, then this actor has no qualms portraying difficult characters. Just look at his character in Succession.

And I think it does take an actor who is able to portray all the facets of Marius quite unapologetically.

I remember that video interview with Jacob, where he said he first loved Marius in TVL, and then as he read on...^^ I think the show will go a similar way, maybe.

I don't think they're going to tone anything down, actually.

And of course we will get his story latest when Akasha happens.

But if that will make us sympathize with him? No idea.

It will be very interesting to see what they choose to show us of him next season. And what part wrt Armand, too.

Marius is involved in all of this, and he is an important character in the VC. Given all these vampires are monsters...

However, all this said, and even without many probably not sympathizing with him^^- I do think the show will show him and Armand reconciled (at some point, maybe even "now"). Because he and Marius reach that point (more or less) over time. And I think that painting on the wall hints at that reconciliation.

[abugeatbugworld]

Hello buggy friends! It has been a minute and for that I'm sorry — life is crazy these days, and I haven't been able to keep up with this blog nearly as much as I would like to.

But even though I haven't been posting here much lately, I haven't forgotten about the A Bug's Life fandom entirely! In fact, as a way to keep myself sane amidst the real life chaos at the moment (good chaos but still chaos), I've started a whole new story.

It's different from my usual stuff, which tends to stick pretty closely to the canon, as it takes place in the future and includes some original characters. I know OCs aren't everyone's speed — I tend to be skeptical of them myself — but I hope you'll consider at least giving it a chance, because I'm pretty excited about this story :)

I've included a little teaser below, and if you're interested you can click the link above or below to continue reading.

Thanks for being part of this tiny but mighty community!

with love, Mouse

P.S. Thank you to my friend @theowlgoesmoo for being a big encourager and beta reader of this story! ❤

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lost and Found

Prologue

It’s been four seasons since Ant Island was set free from Hopper’s tyrannical reign. 

Atta and Flik are happily married. Their small wedding ceremony was attended only by the Queen, Princess Dot, the Royal Council, and the circus bugs. It was an evening filled with music, dancing, and — for the first time any of the participants could remember — an abundance of food.

Tragically, a few weeks after this joyous occasion, the Queen fell ill and passed away. The throne was left to her eldest daughter, who inherited the role with grace and dignity amidst her deep sorrow. Although the royal family continues to grieve the death of their matriarch, the colony as a whole is enjoying a time of peace and prosperity.

Flik’s technological advancements have gained widespread fame, catching the attention of nearby colonies as well as other insect communities. Under the supervision of Queen Atta and the Council, the new prince consort partnered with the island’s Head of Engineering, Thorny, to build a larger workshop, hire over fifty employees, and set up a trade system with neighboring kingdoms. Flik also recruited Dot as his honorary lab assistant — a decision made partly because he saw the antling’s budding brilliance, and partly because he knew she needed a healthy distraction from the sudden loss of her mother.

After spending some time as traveling performers, the circus troupe made the decision to set up a permanent attraction on Ant Island. Their circus has drawn visitors from all over the Bug Realm, which has only served to increase the island’s growing wealth and prominence. After years of enslavement and oppression at the hands of bigger bugs, the residents of Ant Island can finally draw a breath and relish in the fruits of their labor.

What the colony doesn’t know, however, is that elsewhere — in an anthill not unlike their own — trouble is brewing.

Flik has a rival, an ant who is like him in every way…except for one very important difference.

His heart.

Chapter One

“Wait up, Aphie!”

Dot giggled as she pushed through the blades of grass in her path. A few inches ahead of her, her pet aphid zipped easily around their bases, his stubby legs carrying him much faster than seemed possible.

The two of them often played this game of chase in the early mornings, before most of the colony (with the exception of Flik, who preferred working at night and sleeping most of the day) awoke. It was Dot’s time to bask in the crisp island air before Princess — no, Queen Atta — forced her to sit in a stuffy room with Doctor Cornelius and learn about things that royal ants were supposed to know.

She knew her private tutoring sessions were just part of the deal as a daughter of the former queen, but she missed being surrounded by her friends in Mister Soil’s classroom. She missed having endless time to go outside and play or visit Flik in his workshop. She missed not having to wear an itchy crown all the time.

She missed her mom.

Dot felt a spasm of grief wrack her chest and immediately pushed it down, as far down as it could go. Her therapist, Miss Gypsy, wouldn’t be happy with her (“You need to feel your feelings, dear”), but she didn’t care.

It was a beautiful summer day, and the last thing she wanted to think about was her dead mother.

Aphie was out of sight now. Dot slowed, panting, and brushed a bead of sweat from her forehead. If she flew she could keep pace with the little bug, but it felt nice to use her legs once in a while.

“What are you doing so far from the anthill, little one?”

Continued here

[idkjustletmescroll]

As a girl eagerly counting down the days until July 26th, I've made up a list of shit I want to see happen in season 6 of the dragon prince that I do in fact expect everyone to care about:

1: Janaya janaya janaya janaya I just love themmmm (buuuttt they both have to stay alive).

2: Speaking of janaya, i know there's a chance we get a wedding this season, which i wouldn't be opposed to. If we kept humans and elves as the main conflict like we did in the first three seasons, I'd say they should have it at the end of the show, but it feels more like aaravos vs the dragaang at this point, which...

3: More characters with more to do! In the first dragon prince, we had a bunch of minor characters (the other monarchs, prince kasef, opeli and corvus, nyx, ethari, a shit ton of soldiers, etc.), do things that affected our main characters in plenty of ways, which made it feel like there was a whole world out there being affected. Now, it's not that there are NO side characters affecting the main plot, it just feels so centered on the aaravos plot. I feel like they should have kept a bit more "elves and humans need to unite and move forward to defeat aaravos" but it's fine. I still like the show.

4: Rayllum making up. Not necessarily in a romantic relationship, though I would EAT THAT UP if it happened, but, if they haven't gotten back into their romantic relationship by the end of season 6, they should clearly be well on their way there, and we should know how they both feel about it.

5: De-coining. They've been trapped in there long enough.

6: I kind of want to see viren well and truly dead, just because of the downward SPIRAL it would send my girl claudia into. But I also feel like he has more to offer? I know we have a clip of him doing SOMETHING this season, but that could be a flashback. Idk. I feel like him voluntarily giving up power, and his own life, was a good ending for him, and the way claudia reacts in that first teaser we got definitely makes it seem like he's dead? But I also kind of want him to have a meaningful interaction with the other characters he's affected--rayla, callum, ezran, obviously; I kind of want to see what would happen if he realizes how far gone claudia is, joins the dragaang with the belief that he can save her from aaravos, and somehow meets janai? I feel like they've always had really strong writing for viren, though. So I'm trusting you, tdp writers.

7: Terry turn away from Claudia. This could turn into him trying to sabotage her, straight-up leaving, becoming a double agent, whatever. But he can only delude himself for so long.

8: I want the sunfire elf conflict to end and for them to help fight aaravos (he killed khessa and corrupted lux aurea, okay? They deserve to help beat him). I'd also be fine with them wrapping THAT conflict up somewhere around the middle of season 7, but I don't want them dragging it out all through to the end of it.

9: The key of aaravos should become more important. I get that it was essential to callum figuring out primal magic, but also, we've had it since s1 ep4, and it's still very distinctly in callum's possession. What else is up with this thing?

10: Janaya (again) being badass war generals. We all saw them in the first three seasons, right? Amaya was fully ready to kill a teenager (an elf, but still), in her first episode. And also kicked down a door and won my heart. She threw multiple elves into lava. Janai took over amaya's fortress thing and tried to kill her for a good bit of her screentime (I wish they would emphasize janai being strategic a little more. Like...she would've HAD that stronghold if that soldier didn't start using sign language). THEY led the defense of the storm spire!

11: ANDDD speaking of janaya, one last thing: I want the human soldiers respecting janai, and the sunfire elves recognizing Amaya as their queen. Even just a "your radianceS," plural, or something. She's going to be their queen--consort, i guess, technically, but still. I feel like we haven't gotten a big enough sense of that.

[morgana-ren]

A lil Durge/Astarion consort-jealousy teaser piece coming soon. Will edit it, post it, and then answer some more questions in the ol' inbox after my nap.