#feels like he shouldn't be towering over his master

[khywren]

「 Resonance 」

summary: You can't lie to yourself about the way you feel for him, the way your heart skips a beat when you steal glances at his painfully beautiful face when you think he isn't looking, the way you've been thinking about him constantly after your night together at the Tiefling party.

What admittedly started out as lust has blossomed into something so much more, and you almost can't believe that your feelings have apparently been requited. You are certain that Astarion could have anyone he wanted, and yet, somehow, he's chosen you of all people.

And you can deny him nothing.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader rating: 18+ MDNI status: complete tags/warnings: oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blood drinking, smut, porn with feelings, soft Astarion, reader insert word count: 5.2k spoiler warning: contains spoilers up to the early part of act 2.

a/n: my first ever fic and me jumping headlong into the fandom and succumbing to the Astarion brainrot. cross-posted from AO3.

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You heave a long sigh as you stretch your arms over your head and roll your shoulders, working away the aches and pains of another long day of travel. Tonight, your wayward band of companions have settled down in the remains of an abandoned inn somewhere outside of Moonrise Towers. They're hardly luxurious accommodations, but the place had seemed relatively safe, and there were plenty of soft beds to accommodate you all, always a welcome option over a dusty bedroll and the cold, hard ground. The building was one of the few structures in the area that still had a roof and all its walls intact, more or less. In these parts, that was nothing short of a miracle.

After ensuring that there were no enemies lying in wait within the premises, Gale had suggested you all sleep in the large, shared bedroom; better for safety in case of an ambush, as he had explained.

You couldn't disagree with his logic, but nevertheless you had wanted a little time to yourself, wandering upstairs and out on the balcony of the master suite after getting dressed for bed. You had had a lot on your mind, lately, and you didn't want to pass the opportunity up while you had it. You might not get another opportunity to relax like this for quite some time, and you had learned to take the little joys where you could since escaping from the wreckage of the nautiloid.

Now you find yourself leaning over the railing, bracing yourself against the old wood and chipped paint, your eyes passively scanning your surroundings. Because the sky is completely overcast, there is no moonlight reflected on the water's surface, and the lake is almost eerily placid. You certainly don't enjoy thinking about what the shadow curse might have done to whatever was living there, what sort of monsters might have taken their place.

A gentle breeze caresses your skin and you shiver slightly, rubbing your arms vigorously to rid yourself of the goosebumps that suddenly appear. After a long afternoon spent within the walls of the Moonrise Towers and their unsavory inhabitants, the quiet calm of the evening is a welcome reprieve, as you and your companions take the time to rest before planning your next move.

You close your eyes and relax, letting your mind wander...

“Enjoying the view?”

The voice immediately startles you out of your reverie and you can't control a yelp of surprise as you whip around, embarrassed to be so caught off guard. 

“A-Astarion,” you stammer, your heart gradually slowing its wild beating. “You shouldn't sneak up on people like that.” A smirk of satisfaction finds its way to his mouth. The smug bastard. Damn him for being so light on his feet, you think, doing your best not to give him any further satisfaction. If you do, you're sure you'll never live it down.

“What if I had fallen over?” you protest in a pathetic attempt to save face, gesturing dramatically to the balcony railing. “I can't imagine you'd have an easy time explaining my mangled corpse to the others.”

Astarion steps closer, his face the perfect mask of wry humor that you're so accustomed to. “Come now, darling,” he says, pretending to be offended. “You wound me. You don't think I'd let anything like that happen to you on purpose, do you? And besides,” he adds, shrugging nonchalantly, “if you'd actually become that clumsy, I doubt you'd be of much use in battle. You'd probably be doing us a favor by removing yourself from the equation, really.”

You try to scowl at him in disapproval, but you must not have been successful if the look on Astarion's face or the quiet laugh he offers in response is any indication. You'd say it was almost condescending if you didn't know him any better, but there is a hint of affection in his scarlet eyes as he looks down at you before approaching the edge of the balcony and standing next to you. He's so close that you can smell his distinct scent, something faintly reminiscent of bergamot and rosemary. It's comforting.

“Gods,” he sneers, scrunching up his nose as he looks out over the dreary scene before the both of you, “this place is dreadful, isn't it?”

You smile at him, thankful for the change in conversation topics, and nod your head in agreement. “I can't wait to leave this place behind.”

“As do I.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his lips drawn back, one gleaming fang just barely visible. “There's hardly anything here for me to feed on besides rats and other filthy vermin, and you would not believe how foul their blood is.”

“I can't even imagine.” You wouldn't mind offering yourself to him again, if he asked, and you turn the thought over in your mind, considering, but before you can act on it, he's speaking again, drawing your attention back.

“And, by the way, speaking of vermin...”

You glance up at Astarion as he pauses; he seems almost hesitant, his expression pensive. “I didn't get a chance to thank you,” he finally says. “For earlier.”

“Hmm?” You tilt your head inquisitively, searching your mind for what he's referring to.

“For what you did back there, back with that vile Drow who wanted me to bite her.” He almost spits out the words, and you can plainly hear the disgust in his tone. “You stood up for me when you didn't have to. Thank you for that.”

There's something about the melancholy way he expresses his gratitude that makes your heart ache, as if he believes he isn't worth the effort, that maybe you were regretting losing out on whatever potion Araj had offered as a reward. Although you don't yet know much about Astarion's past, what glimpses he has shown you reveal a life of trauma and self-loathing, and you realize that, even though he is temporarily free from Cazador's influence, old habits die hard. You suspect that he has convinced himself that he is utterly unworthy of the freedom he has been granted by the tadpoles, not because he truly believes it, but because it is the mechanism that has, so far, guaranteed his survival.

But the way he seems now, allowing himself to be... vulnerable, to let you see more of the real Astarion behind the façade... it's nothing if not encouraging. You decide to risk opening yourself up to him just a little bit more, hoping that he will return the favor.

“Of course I did,” you say, reaching out clasp his hand between both of your own. Your touch is gentle but insistent, grounding him in the moment as you gaze into his eyes, which have darkened in contemplation as he considers your admonition. “There's no way I would have let you go through with it if you didn't want to, no matter what she was offering. Nothing would have been worth that.”

Astarion's eyes widen slightly, but he says nothing, clearly surprised by your response, by the vehement admission in your voice. Undeterred, you continue, hoping your words get through to him the way you intend them to. “You should be free to make your own decisions and choose your own path,” you say, baring your emotions raw. You hadn't intended to become so emotional, but you've grown quite fond of Astarion these past few weeks you've spent together, and you can no longer bear to see him continue to suffer as he has for so long. No one deserves that, least of all him. You know he doesn't want your pity, but you want him to know that you value his autonomy, whatever he chooses to do with it.

“I didn't know you felt so strongly about the matter,” he says thoughtfully, his voice barely above a whisper. “This whole time I've been acting purely on instinct, doing whatever has come naturally. I can't remember the last time I had the luxury of thinking for myself,” he says, a grim look contorting his naturally handsome features into something you can only describe as distinctly un-Astarion. “To tell you the truth,” he says with a wry laugh, “I've forgotten what it's like.”

“It's okay,” you say, squeezing his hand reassuringly, “These things take time. I'm here for you. I... I care a lot about you, you know.”

“Really?”

He sounds incredulous, like he doesn't believe what he's hearing. You don't know if he's ever been important to someone outside of being a means to an end for Cazador and his cruel intentions, a plaything to be taken advantage of and discarded once it's served its purpose. Until now, that is.

“Of course,” you insist. “How could I not?” You seize the opportunity to step closer to him, and you see him visibly flinch as if bracing for a blow, but before he can stop you, you wrap your arms around him and press him tightly to your body in a full embrace, your heart once again racing in your chest. After a moment you feel the tension in his shoulders ebb away and he relaxes into you with a heavy sigh, his relief more than evident. 

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breathing in your scent, and you feel him tentatively return the gesture, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. You stay there for a while in each other's arms, the closeness of your bodies a comfort for you both. Astarion is warmer than you remember from your last encounter with him, but you suspect the blood from whatever poor creatures he drained dry outside of the inn is the cause of the lingering warmth in his body. It is an altogether unique experience, one that you have ashamedly been longing to experience with him.

“From now on,” you tell him, reluctantly pulling away, “I hope you'll feel comfortable enough to tell me what you want. I promise I'll never force you to do anything that you don't want to, no matter the circumstances.”

“What I want...”

Astarion considers your words carefully, and even through the darkness, you don't miss the flicker of a smile on his face as he gazes down at you through half-lidded eyes.

“What I want,” he repeats, closing the distance you had put between the two of you and brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear, “is you. Us. This. Whatever this is. You're the only one who's ever seen me, the only one who's ever looked at me with something more than fear or contempt.”

He rests his hand on the side of your face, cupping your cheek the way a lover might, silently asking for your permission. You look up at him, your eyes wide; he's taken you by surprise yet again, but you can't help but feel elated by what he's asking of you. 

You can't lie to yourself about the way you feel for him, the way your heart skips a beat when you steal glances at his painfully beautiful face when you think he isn't looking, the way you've been thinking about him constantly after your night together at the Tiefling party. What admittedly started out as lust has blossomed into something so much more, and you almost can't believe that your feelings have apparently been requited. You are certain that Astarion could have anyone he wanted, and yet, somehow, he's chosen you of all people.

And you can deny him nothing.

“Yes,” you say, almost breathlessly, and Astarion slips his hand beneath your chin and tilts your face upwards, capturing your mouth in a kiss. Your hands find purchase in his shirt as he coaxes your mouth open with his tongue and you happily oblige, letting him slip his tongue inside. 

Astarion is surprisingly gentle. The last time the two of you shared a kiss, it was full of passion and lust, of desperation to entangle yourselves in one another, but what you're experiencing now bears almost no resemblance. He takes his time with you, exploring your mouth and savoring the kiss. When you find your back pressed up against the wall, a small noise of surprise escapes you and you can feel his grin against your lips, the light prick of his fangs a subtle reminder of who and what he truly is.

But you've never thought of him as a monster. Even on that first night, you had willingly offered him your blood because you trusted him. Foolishly or not, you had believed him when he said he had no intention of harming you. You know the sentiment holds true even now - he has you practically caged, but the erratic beating of your heart has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the anticipation of where this kiss might lead you.

Astarion deepens the kiss, and you thread your fingers through his hair as he coaxes a soft moan from your lips. The sound seems to unlock something in him, and he pushes you even more firmly against the wall, wedging his leg between your own. A searing heat has already begun to build within you, and you instinctively grind against him, desperate for any relief from the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs.

Astarion huffs a laugh and lazily traces his lips across your jawline and to the shell of your ear, his voice downright predatory as he whispers, “My, my, what an eager little thing you are...”

Another moan tumbles from your lips, louder than the first, and you buck your hips again, but it's not enough. You feel his mouth buried in the crook of your neck, his fangs bared, a promise of things to come. For now, he turns his attention to your nightshirt, his fingers deftly unhooking all the buttons as the garment now hangs loose and open, barely covering your chest.

“Let's see what other sounds you can make for me, darling.” He practically purrs the words, his voice sending a jolt of electricity down your spine in anticipation. When Astarion slips his hand beneath your nightshirt and palms your bare breast, you suck in a breath, trembling beneath him. 

“That won't do,” he admonishes, before his fingers find your nipple and pinch, just enough to hurt in the way he knows you like it. 

“Ah... Astarion-!” 

As you cry out his name, a sound of satisfied pleasure echoes low in his throat, and you almost melt from the way he's looking at you. Greedily. Hungrily. And you have no intention of stopping him from having his fill of you. In fact, you want nothing more than to surrender yourself to him completely.

“That's a good girl.” 

The words ignite an inferno within you, and you pull him for another kiss, the familiar desperation taking hold of you once again, and he rewards you with his lips and his tongue and his teeth, one hand cradled behind your head as the other mercilessly continues to pinch and tease your over-sensitive breasts. You writhe against him, feeling his growing hardness through his pants, yearning for more contact. 

As if he senses your desires, Astarion begins to trace his free hand down the center of your chest, deliberately, achingly slowly. The centuries he has spent perfecting his technique are glaringly apparent, and you all feel no shame in begging him for what you want, what you know you need.

“Please, Astarion,” you whine, breaking the kiss.

“Please what?” he teases you back, his fingertips featherlight as they stop just above your waistband. “You'll need to be more specific.”

You know he's enjoying himself a little too much, but gods if you could fault him for it. As long as he continues to make you feel good, he's welcome to have his way with you.

“Please touch me,” you say, breathlessly. “I want... I need you to touch me.”

When his hand slips beneath your underwear, you vainly try to hold back your moans of pleasure, his fingers gently spreading you apart and finding the part of you that has been crying out for his touch. He traces lazy circles around your clit and you bury your face in his neck, your legs suddenly feeling as though they might buckle beneath you.

“So wet for me already,” Astarion muses playfully, “And I've barely even touched you. How scandalous.”

You cling desperately to him as his fingers continue to explore, applying pressure in all the right places and eliciting a string of filthy curses from your lips. Finally, you regain some clarity and you tip your head back, indicating to the bedroom on the other side of the wall. 

“B-bed... now... can't feel my legs...”

The sensation between your thighs dissipates immediately as Astarion hooks his arms under your legs and hoists you up effortlessly; you wrap your arms and legs around him as he carries you back into the master suite, your nightshirt getting discarded somewhere along the way. As you extract yourself from him, he lays you almost reverently on the bed before stripping his shirt and climbing on top of you and straddling your hips. The lantern in the corner you had lit on your way in casts flickering shadows across Astarion's finely sculpted chest and you marvel at how breathtaking he looks, his eyes dark and wild, his hair tousled and unkept from your wayward fingers. 

“Just look at you,” he croons softly, his eyes tracing a path across your body as you lay beneath him. You can't help but notice that he stops to pay particular attention to his favorite places - your flushed face, the column of your throat, your breasts. “Simply exquisite.”

As Astarion leans over you, you reach for him and pull him down, the ceaseless urge to feel him inside of you momentarily dulled by the tender way he kisses you, slowly but insistently as he grinds your hips together. He pauses only briefly to press his forehead against your own, and with his eyes closed, he looks strangely at peace in a way you've never seen him before.

Your heart swells and you know that you love him - no matter how deeply his feelings for you run, you love him all the same, and you wish for nothing more than his happiness. Astarion, your most treasured companion. 

This time when you wrap your arms around him, you find your fingers tracing the scars carved into his back, and his body grows taut as you feel him wrestle with the way such a bold gesture makes him feel. You hear it then, a single word echoing faintly in your mind: safe. You don't know if the thought is your own or one that Astarion has shared with you through the tadpole bond, but either way he soon relaxes once again, his mouth tracing kisses across your face and neck.

That's right, you think. I am safe with you, just as you are safe with me.

You feel dismayed as he pulls away from you, but when his fingers hook under your waistband and tug your pants and underwear down and off in one fluid motion, your words of protest immediately die in your throat.

Astarion coaxes your legs open before settling himself, and you watch, open-mouthed and gasping as he buries his face between your thighs, and you feel the wet press of his tongue against your most sensitive areas. When his lips close around your clit and his tongue swirls around the swollen bundle of nerves, you cry out and buck your hips, the sensations of pleasure shooting through your entire body. He uses one hand to grab you firmly by the hip, his vicelike grip holding you in place as he continues to drive you wild.

“Astarion... Astarion...” His name is like a prayer on your lips, and you can't help but cling to it like a dying man clings to water in the desert. He hums, clearly pleased with himself, the vibration threatening to send you over the edge. When he moves his free hand to slide two fingers inside of you, you cry out again, threading your fingers through his hair and holding tight as if you don't dare to let him go. 

The feeling of his lips and tongue on you and his fingers pumping inside you are too much to bear, and you find yourself quickly approaching the edge of what you are sure will be the most intense orgasm you have ever had. Astarion seems to sense that you are growing close, and his pace intensifies, his fingers curling inside you as he finally finds the sweet spot. With a desperate moan you finally come undone around him, your thighs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, the intense pleasure of it all surging through every inch of your body. Your breath comes now in heavy gasps, and you lay there, utterly spent, as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over you.

“I do so love those sweet little sounds you make for me,” Astarion says, his voice simultaneously too close and too far all at once. When you open your eyes at last, you see him there at the edge of the mattress, completely naked now, his hand wrapped around his aching cock. The tip shines wet with precum in the flickering firelight, betraying his arousal, and you feel immense delight at how eager he looks to lose himself in you once more.

“Fuck, Astarion,” you manage, your voice less steady than you had intended it to be.

“It would be my pleasure,” he drawls, twisting your words in his own expert little way and pumping himself a few times before guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing only the head inside you. He grabs your hips and positions you for better access, lifting one leg and spreading your legs apart once more.

You bite down on your lip to stifle your moan as you feel the achingly perfect way his cock stretches you out as he slips himself inside, the motion effortless because you are so thoroughly wet and pliant. He doesn't miss the way you attempt to keep yourself quiet. 

“Are you embarrassed, love? Afraid the others might hear you?” His voice is teasing and sly; he knows the answer to your question without you having to answer, but you humor him all the same because you know he wants to hear you say it.

“Y-yes...” 

Even as you admit this to him, he begins to thrust his hips forward, pushing himself deep inside, purposefully drawing more moans of pleasure from your lips.

“Let them,” Astarion says, his pace steady, his own moans mingling with yours as he savors the tight warmth enveloping him. “You don't think for a moment they haven't noticed the way you look at me, do you?”

Shit. And here you thought you had been so secretive. He had known the whole time - of course he had - and, apparently, so had the rest of your party. The only one oblivious was you. This, of all things, makes your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment, but Astarion only laughs, the realization nothing short of an amusement to him. 

As he begins to chase his own pleasure, Astarion suddenly picks up the pace, his hips snapping rhythmically as he fucks you, his cock bottoming out with every thrust. You can no longer bother with the effort of keeping yourself quiet as you whine and tremble beneath him, your hands fisting in the sheets as your head lolls back into the pillow.

“Look at me,” he says, voice low, and you obey his command, gazing up at him from beneath your lashes. His chest heaves as he surges into you, firelight casting dancing shadows across his figure, and you briefly think that you've never seen anything more magnificent in your entire life before the thought becomes a blur interspersed with his own thoughts of more, more, more that travel through the tadpole bond.

“Ohhh...” you moan out in a lazy drawl, “Ohh gods...”

He's brought you close to the edge of oblivion again, and your whole body tightens beneath him. You're so close, now, all it would take is just a little bit more...

“Astarion,” you manage, “I'm...”

He anticipates what you're about to say and his pace becomes agonizingly slow, and you do nothing to hide your whine of dismay as you search his face for an explanation, your breath coming in short gasps as you try in vain to grind yourself back against him.

“Not just yet, love,” Astarion croons, and in one easy motion he slips his arms beneath you and pulls you abruptly up and into his lap so that you're straddling his thighs, his cock still buried inside you. “I was hoping you might indulge me just a bit further...”

You watch as his eyes travel to your neck, the red of his irises an impossibly deep shade of crimson, and you can sense the hunger within him. 

“Yes... yes,” you tell him, knowing that there had never been any other answer. “Anything, everything, as long as it's you.”

You brush the hair away from your neck, baring the column of your throat to him, and he slots himself against the crook of your neck, his lips searching for the right spot. In the meantime, he thrusts himself lazily into you and you are more than happy to comply, doing all you can to move your hips along the full length of his cock while still allowing him access to your throat.

The bite comes quickly, and you cry out, the white-hot sear of pain gradually ebbing into a dull ache of pleasure as you feel him begin to drink deeply from your veins. It's a strangely intimate act, and as the weariness of the blood loss begins to overwhelm you, you cling to him, your hips moving automatically, ceaselessly as you share this moment with each other.

When Astarion has had his fill, he pulls his mouth away, and you can feel the faint trickle of blood as it drips down your neck. He runs his tongue along the trail of blood, savoring every drop before sighing contentedly. Newly invigorated, he gently rests his hands on your hips, aiding you in your thrusts as he guides you along his cock, pulling almost completely out of you before slamming back into you, slowly at first but then with a growing desperation that matches your own. He won't last much longer, and neither will you at this rate.

Dizzy from the bite and the adrenaline, you bury your face against him, calling his name over and over again as you grow closer and closer to release. All it takes is for his fingers to find your clit again before you lose yourself completely, throwing back your head and arching your back as the intensity of your orgasm claims you once again, your entire body electric with pleasure as you rock against him, babbling incoherently. 

The feeling of your tight wet heat around him is too much for him to bear now and he follows you over the edge, your name a guttural groan deep in his throat as he spills himself inside you. With a few more quick thrusts, he pulls out of you and lays you back onto the mattress, but he doesn't shift from where he kneels on top of you, his eyes tracing every curve of your body as if committing this moment eternally to memory.

You are utterly exhausted, and your eyes flutter closed as he settles himself beside you before you reach out instinctively for him. He allows you the small pleasure of holding his hand and lacing your fingers together as he presses featherlight kisses along your face, the act strangely domestic but nonetheless a welcome one.

“Get some sleep, love,” Astarion says, his voice laced with honey and something you are sure can only be genuine affection for you. “I'll be right here if you need me.” Satisfied, you feel yourself sink quickly into a deep sleep, perhaps the best you've had in weeks, safe in knowing that, at least for just this night, no harm will come to you. The last thought on your mind is of Astarion, his face a vivid reflection in your mind's eye, and you can't help but feel at ease.

-----------

When you awake the next morning - or whatever passes for morning in this place of constant darkness - your eyes open slowly, your body rousing from slumber as you become aware not only of where you are but why you are there. Reminders of the night you shared with Astarion come flooding back in an instant and you feel suddenly wide awake, sitting up with a start. Beside you, the mattress is empty, and you begin to feel disappointed before Astarion clears his throat from across the room and you follow the noise to where he stands, adjusting his clothing as he dresses for the day.

He hadn't broken his promise, you realize with relief. He had spent the entire night with you, though you doubt he got much if any sleep, as he told you once before that sleep was mostly irrelevant for his kind anyway.

“Good morning,” you say, offering him a tender smile. “How long was I out? I haven't slept that well in ages.”

“It's hard to tell in this place,” Astarion shrugs padding over to hand you your discarded sleepwear. “But long enough, I would imagine. The others are already up, at any rate.”

You can hear the faint sound of chatter and the distinct noise of cookware coming from the lower level of the inn, carrying with it the savory aromas of meats and whatever else your party is preparing for breakfast. Your stomach suddenly rumbles with hunger, and you dress quickly, sliding out of bed and instantly being met with the ache in your limbs that can only come from a night spent in the throes of passion. Your fingertips trace the puncture marks on your neck and you groan, realizing that as soon as you join the others, they will be painfully aware of how and with whom you spent the night - that is, if the noises Astarion had so expertly coaxed out of you hadn't already done the trick.

Astarion, ever-observant, senses your plight and you can tell he's barely holding back his laughter. He is positively elated. You scowl at him, half-hearted, but still deeply embarrassed.

“You think this is just hilarious, don't you?”

“Of course I do, darling, you do know me ever-so-well,” Astarion quips back, his eyes crinkling with delight as he regards you fondly. “Now then, shall we? We wouldn't want to keep everyone in suspense.”

He guides you to the door and towards the staircase, and your mind frantically tries to form a plan of action for what is surely about to be a truly mortifying moment. In the meantime, somewhere in the back of your mind, you also begin considering how you plan to make Astarion pay for his transgressions; after all, if you're never going to live this down, neither will he.

[lostinforestbound]

It's here after many weeks, the 10k one-shot to celebrate 200 followers, but I suppose it's also to celebrate 300 followers as well! I meant for 300 to be a different celebration but that's okay! I'm sure I'll make something else for the next milestone!

Requested Tags: @dutifullylazybread @heytheresunflower @barbwillbrb

Rolan/GN!Tav

I Shouldn't Love You Like You Are Mine

Rolan has too much to do with so little time. Becoming the new Master of Ramazith's tower is proving more complicated than the wizard have ever thought. On top of it all, he has a deep infatuation with Tav, the hero who saved him and his family many times. He knows he has no chance with them, so he has settled on hopelessly pining and dreaming. One day, Tav rushes into the shop in a panic, and he could have never in his wildest fantasies expect what they request of him.

Word Count: 10k (Don't like Tumblr? Read on AO3 instead!)

Relevant Tags: Rolan's POV, Makeout Diversion, Smut, Lorroakan Bashing

Beta Reader: @el-tur-el (Thank you so much for your help T!!!)

NSFW under cut, Minors DNI

The air is stale, the scent of electricity still strong in the space that surrounds him, the taste of blood on his tongue from when his sharp teeth gashed the inside of his mouth. He's sore, bruised, burned, somewhat electrocuted by the way some of his muscles spasm still, but he's alive. Tav is long gone with their companions, and all that is left is him and a dead man.

When staring down at the body of his spine-broken master, Rolan is not sure of how he's supposed to feel. At first, he felt a genuine joy that he had not felt in many years. The adrenaline was still high at the time, and he proudly remarked that he would turn the tower inside out to find its secrets and share them with the world. He always has been ambitious, that is what got him this far, after all. Tav seems happy for him, and he ignores how it made his heart pound even more.

As he stands alone in the room, he questions whether he's supposed to feel something now that the joy has faded within the span of minutes. Some kind of liberation? Or perhaps his emotions are fighting each other in his psyche, making him feel everything and nothing all at once. The man who tortured him, who beat him like he was a misbehaving dog he didn't even want, who refused to teach him anything about wielding the weave, lays dead by his feet. He can't help but think that he looks pathetic now, face twisted in permanent fear even after death.

He spits on his face as a final 'fuck you'. He hopes he rots in the deepest pits of the hells that he was once dragged to.

Running his stiff hands down his face, he tries to think of what to do first. He has to get rid of this body, it can't stay here lying around. It will decay and stink more than Lorroakan already has. Grabbing a fistful of the dead man's hair, he drags his body towards the balcony. He could throw his body over the railing, it would be insult to injury, but no. He will do something much worse.

He digs into the stray backpack at the edge of the railing and takes out a disintegration scroll, one that he knew Lorroakan hid out here as a backup plan in case a fight doesn't go his way. Without thinking too much on it, he casts the spell on the body, and Lorroakan disappears into ash.

His former teacher was now erased, made into nothing, and no one will remember or miss him. A fate worse than death, in Rolan's opinion.

Almost numbly, he heads back inside the main room and tries to find cleaning supplies. There's so much blood on the floor, and it did not help he made a trail while dragging the body. He wishes Tav was still here so he could demand they clean their mess up, where he wouldn't notice his tail flicking back and forth in irritation. Would they bother listening to him? Maybe not, but at least they would be there, just a little longer. Just enough time for him to pine once more.

Lia is right, he's a very selfish creature.

A couple of mage hands bring a bucket of water and an unused mop over. He is taken aback, as he thought they would have disappeared in Lorroakan's absence. Although, these could have been Ramazith's, wherever that wizard is now. It doesn't matter, either way. They're his now.

He dunks the mop into the water and starts swiping across the floor, noticing how as he cleans, the white cloth of the strands turn red. There's so much godsdamned blood, it will take him forever to clear the mess. There's a lot of blood on him, too. Specks and splatters of blood paint his hands crimson, long dried onto his red skin. His mentor's blood. Lorroakan's blood.

He helped murder a man, today. He killed someone. His blood is on his hands as much as it may be on the Nightsong's. Or Tav's.

An unsuspected shudder runs through his body, and he feels sick. He chalks it up to his adrenaline rush going down too quickly, ignoring the feeling as he swipes the mop across the floor.

The hairs on his neck stand on end as he feels the crackle of the weave, warning him someone is coming through the portal. Part of him hopes it would be Tav; he wants to talk to them again. Maybe they can help him with the cleanup, laughing about how they left him here without realizing it. He would stumble over his words like a fool, trying to be impressive in his pathetic state.

It's not Tav that arrives though, he recognizes Lia's quick footsteps anywhere. She's always been the fastest between him and Cal; they both could never beat her in a race, but he swears he lets her win.

"Rolan!" She shouts, quickly coming up to him along with Cal, whose heavier footsteps are right behind hers. "Finally! You kept talking up this tower and now we get to see it-"

"Wait, is that blood?" Cal immediately interrupts, face falling.

He must look horrendous, Rolan realizes. He got so busy cleaning the floor that he didn't even bother washing up first. Based on when he looked at himself that morning, the bruises should still be very prominent. Shit.

Lia bristles when she cups his face, looking at his injuries. "What is this?"

The silence that falls between them is telling. He knows she figured it out a long time ago, but she wants to hear him say it. "I'm fine, Lia. He was a horrible mentor, but it's not my blood on the ground."

"Tav told us they helped you kick his ass." Cal comments, trying to lighten their moods, "Looks like you did just that if this blood isn't yours."

"You should've killed him earlier, idiot!" She spits.

"I know, I know." He mutters, trying to speak even as Lia turns his face around to see the damage. "It's good to see you two."

"We missed you, brother," Cal says, gently moving Lia away and hugging him. "Please don't do that again. It was hard, without you."

Rolan lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding, hugging Cal tightly. Lia joins in quickly after. When was the last time they held each other like this? He doesn't remember.

It feels nice.

While it doesn't last long, it is more than satisfactory for him. They help him with the clean up, Lia helping with the blood while Cal sweeps the floor with a broom. They take on more workload than Rolan wants, but he can't argue with them when they practically plead for him to rest. To be honest, he's unbelievably sore, and maybe sitting down for a bit wouldn't hurt.

It only takes his body a few minutes until it's antsy again, so he joins them quickly after.

And then he never stops moving.

He cleans, reorganizes, and keeps walking despite his beaten body screaming at him to stop. He can't stop, because if he does, he knows he will not want to get back up. He'll crash, and he can't afford that.

At the end of it all, he enters Lorroakan's room without thinking and is frozen in place. He's been in here before, but never for good reasons, only beatings. Is this not his room now that the original master is gone? But it reeks of his old mentors stench. He scrunches his nose as he looks at all the personalized decorations. They're hideous, all of the colors too bright to stare at, and most not matching with each other in terms of palette. There's not even a real theme and it makes him irate.

He remembers being beaten on this very floor for messing up a verbal component.

Enraged, he marches up to the bed and tears off the sheets, making a point to dig his claws into them so they would rip. The pillows are next, tossing them across the room and onto the floor. He'll need to replace every damn thing if he wants to use this bed. To use this room.

Unwanted memories start to flood into his mind as he tears the place apart, most of them being on the ground, where Lorroakan said he belonged. Beaten, burned, electrocuted, sometimes poisoned. A place where he was at his most pathetic. He often has nightmares about those late nights, but some of the worst ones were Tav walking in and seeing him like that, utterly broken on floor. They would never see him the same, and he doesn't know whether he prefers them to be disgusted by him or to feel pity.

He's close to a breakdown, having trouble getting air into his lungs before Cal and Lia comes in. "Rolan?"

With a slow sigh, he turns to look at them. "Why are you two up?"

Lia's eyes trail around the destroyed room, seeming to note the claw marks on the bed sheets discarded on the carpet. "Couldn't sleep." She says simply, giving a knowing look.

"Can we sleep with you?" Cal asks, rubbing the back of his neck, "Like when we were kids? Just for one night."

His jaw moves to start a pointless argument, but then snaps shut. They're both not children anymore, they can sleep by themselves. He can sleep by himself. However, he cannot deny that he craves the affection it would bring. He hasn't been this long without them, no matter how much he complained about them being clingy before.

"All right." He says quietly after taking a deep breath, "Not in here, though. Come."

He quietly leads them to the comparatively bland room Lorroakan gave him in Sorcerous Sundries. It isn't terrible, but he realizes that the bed is way too small for the three of them. Thankfully, he had a remedy. He adjusts an enlarge spell and makes the bed wider, and they all settle down on top of it easily.

Lia makes him stay in the middle while she settles on his right side, Cal climbing over carefully to lay on his left. Honestly, he misses having them so close.

"Rolan?" Cal speaks up as Lia pulls up the blanket.

"Hm?"

"Can you make a light show for a little bit?"

Rolan can't help but smile, slowly closing his eyes before opening them up again and raising his hands. "Any requests?"

"Make it look like flowers blooming." Lia says instantly, draping an arm around his middle.

He huffs before murmuring a few words, a burst of colors appearing in the air. Like asked, they take form of flowers blooming, petals falling near them gently. It's gorgeous.

It fades after a minute though, the exhaustion finally catching up to him as he falls asleep. If Cal and Lia were bothered by it not lasting, they don’t say a word.

For the first time in years, his night is not plagued by nightmares.

---

As soon as he wakes, Rolan does not stop moving.

He's the new master of Ramazith's tower, there is so much to do with so little time. The Absolute's army is on its way and he needs to gather everything he can to protect his siblings, and to protect Tav.

Tav doesn't need protecting, he knows that all too well, but he needs to do something. Anything at all. He needs to prepare the arcane cannon, but there is so much research to be done. On top of it all, he wants to be able to focus on his studies, but then run a shop at the same time.

He barely eats the toasted bread he haphazardly made for himself, too distracted by the logs Lorroakan left behind. There's so many customers he needs to take care of, including deliveries. Maybe he could repurpose the animated armor to make the deliveries, but that could be shaky as they're unstable. Well, Lorroakan's magic was always weakly done...he could rework the sigils. He'll have to rework everything in this place, actually.

Gods, everything is such a fucking mess. He knows he needs help, but respectfully, he wants everything a certain way and his siblings won't be able to give him what he wants. Tav would be able to understand-

He stops reading, surprising himself with his thought. Tav? Why would he think Tav would know how he likes things? It's ridiculous. But he can imagine it, them carrying books around with whatever means and placing them in alphabetical order, then by subject. They would tease him about being so stingy with what books go where on the bookshelf.

And they would laugh. Not quite at him, but laugh nonetheless. It's such a perfect sound in his ears, and the thought of it makes the tip of his tail flick about. Damn it all!

He's been thinking about them a lot, unfortunately. Ever since the Shadow Cursed Lands, where they succeeded in saving his siblings where he could not, an infatuation began to settle in his heart. He had half the mind to possibly confess, but immediately pushed it out of his mind. There was no possible way they would feel the same. He's too bitter, too arrogant, and he saw the way they looked at Gale, someone who is much more accomplished than he is. It is a fondness that he never received once in his life, and certainly not by them. He was jealous of it, but jealousy is an ugly little trait to have, so he gave up on dwelling.

The feelings never went away, no matter how much he wants them too.

He wants to say more to them, especially after they saved his sorry tail again during the fight up in the tower. They left before he could, he was too dazed staring at the mess the Nightsong made of his former master. He regrets being too out of it to say anything proper.

What would he have told them anyways? He doubts anything worthwhile. Probably a weak apology and an even weaker attempt to express his feelings. In the end, they would reject him, no doubt. He messed up too many times, back in the Shadow Cursed Lands, even if they accepted his apology for lashing out.

So he continues on and tries to forget, organizing the scrolls at the front counter of Sorcerous Sundries. His nose scrunches in irritation at the disorganization of it all. Was Lorroakan always like this? They aren't even categorized in the right sections, its horrendous. Diabolical. A sin on this shop.

Frustration straining his brow, he lays them flat on the counter to decipher where they should go, ignoring the ache that sits subtly in his bones. He hasn't had the chance to heal himself, so the bruises are still very prominent. It doesn't matter, he can take care of it later.

He knows deep in his heart that later will never come.

In the middle of his thought, one of the front doors burst open. Someone runs in and...well, he doesn't recognize them, but he does see the illusion aura that surrounds their figure. He's about to yell at them about their audacity, but their disguise instantly fades when they close.

It's Tav, in all of their wonderful glory.

"Tav?" He asks dumbly as they rush the to the counter.

They urgently hop over the counter and grab his wrist, and he actively has to suppress a wince by the force. "I need help. Hurry!"

Without a chance of responding, they drag him along towards one of the rooms along the side of the shop. They practically throw him in there.

The door slam briefly echoes in the room, and he barely has time to react before the back of his thighs meet the desk inside. He hisses, the bruises still fresh, “What in the hells are you doing?”

“I need a diversion. I was disguised but the Flaming Fist followed me.” They state, starting to open up the front of their tunic to make a mess. “Let me kiss you.”

He hates how the tip of his tail stands at attention, and thank the gods they don’t notice it. “What.”

“We’re kissing. Now. Just-“ They groan, loosening their shirt more to make themselves look like a mess. “-I need to make it look like I was busy. Rolan, please?”

He should say no. Everything is screaming at him to say no. But he is a weak man, and he’s dreamed that he could have them in his arms. Or be in their arms, it didn’t matter to him.

As soon as he gives a nod, they grab the front of his collar and pull him in, kiss searing. It takes everything in his being not to moan at the contact, especially when they loosen his hair properly to make it fall past his ears. They don’t touch them, much to his relief.

Pretending to put on the same act as them, he presses into them enthusiastically, letting their tongue in when it pries at his teeth. He fell out of control so quickly that he doesn’t know how to pick himself back up. He had half the mind to let them have their way with him. Blood rushes down south when their hand slides up his clothed stomach, sweat beading on the back of his neck as the muscles tense and quiver. Their touch was firm, demanding, and the voice in his head screams at him to not deny them for a moment. How long has he been waiting for something like this to happen?

Before he could panic about his dick twitching in interest at their ministrations, the door flies open. It startles Tav enough to where they bite his lip on accident, making him jolt.

A group of Flaming Fist freeze at the door, taking in the scene before them.

Rolan reacts quickly with his typical sneer, sitting up straighter and trying to ignore Tav being between his legs. “Do you mind?”

“Well, sir-“ One starts but the other, a commander most likely, cuts them off.

“There’s a suspected thief that we believe ran into here.”

“So you decided to almost break down one of my doors?” He questions, making a show of magic to fix his hair up. Tav moves away with their arms crossed in front of their chest, looking annoyed.

“We apologize, sir, but this thief is-“

"Excuse me?" Tav states, putting on an offended face. "How dare you! I am not a thief! I've been in this shop for a while now, unless you are accusing me of stealing from here?"

Rolan comes in before the Commander starts to retort. “My partner, no, my associate could not have been a ‘thief’ as they have been here with me for the past fifteen minutes. And this chase happened how long ago now?”

One of the other Flaming Fists glances up at the clock in the room. “…Five minutes.“

The man to their right smacks them upside the head.

“And what did they look like?” Rolan continues.

“A pale half-orc, short hair with a blue blouse, but-“

He raises a hand to silence them, as if they were misbehaving children. “Then I believe we are done here, as my associate is wearing nothing of the sort and does not look like what you described. Now, unless you are here to buy something or set a donation for the rebuilding fund of the shop, you will kindly leave the premises of Sorcerous Sundries this instant. I expect a formal apology by the end of this week.”

In all honesty, it's funny how lost these Flaming Fist look. They seem unsure of what to do. As Tav scoffs and looks away, it seems as though they're trying not to laugh. He has to fight the smile that's teasing the corners of his mouth, staring at all the blustering Fists as they figure out what to do. Reluctantly, frustrated and angry, they exit out of the office and leave the shop with their tail in between their legs.

He brushes himself off when the heat dies down, finally able to compose himself. “What the hells were you doing? Are you mad?!”

They finally let out the laugh they were holding, straightening themselves out. “I blew up a Fireworks shop. An Absolute Cultist was running it! Who knew? To answer your second question, maybe a little bit. It's been a tough day.”

"And you thought you could just run in here while I was working? Making the Flaming Fist dirty my floors after I just had Cal clean it?!"

"I'm sorry Rolan, I panicked. I wasn't thinking." They say, seeming genuinely apologetic.

He could barely focus, mind still catching up with the events. Is he truly this easy? All they had to do was demand a kiss and he would follow them, like a lovesick puppy? He's ashamed of himself, and he didn't even notice them speaking again.

"Rolan?"

"What?"

"How are you?" They ask sincerely.

He straightens himself up and gets back into his usual facade. "I am well enough. This shop and the tower is a horrid mess, so I've already been spending time reorganizing the texts. Lorroakan barely knew his alphabet. They were not even organized by subject!"

They laugh at that, and gods, the sound makes his heart pound, but afterwards they frown at him, eyes scanning to his face. "You're still bruised."

"I haven't had the time to take care of them. There is too much to do."

They dig into their pack and hold out what he recognizes as a superior healing potion. "Here. If you're going to work, at least heal up. Did I hurt you earlier?"

He slowly takes it, perplexed, "It is nothing I can't handle."

"I'm sorry." They murmur.

"I appreciate your apology, and I forgive you." He states, uncorking the bottle and drinking down the potion.

Instantly, the deep set ache and soreness of his form fades to something less painful. Its like a warm hug, and he feels energized.

They give him a soft set smile as he places the bottle down on the desk. "You look a lot better."

Gods, if he could, he would crush the fluttering feeling the compliment gave him. "Excuse you, I always look better. Now, besides that whole mess that you created, was there anything else you needed from me?”

"I want to make purchases...and barter?" They squeak out.

He sighs heavily, opening the door back up for them, "Of course you do. All right, what do you have for trade then?"

They head out to the counter with a skip to their step. "I promise it's worth it!"

---

Tav ended up having plenty of things to trade, including heavy set armor, rings, and magic items they don't need anymore. Thankfully not all fortune is lost, as they give some coin for high level spell scrolls. A Globe of Invulnerability...how interesting. He knows they are out and about adventuring, but what would they need that kind of spell for? How do they even have the gold to afford it??

They were out the door before he can ask them, clearly in a hurry to get somewhere. "Thank you Rolan!"

A little defeated, he continues on with the rest of his day. Organizing, organizing, and even more organizing. This place is such a shit show, it will take him ages before everything is how he wants it to be. Cal always teased him about having his socks color coded in his drawers.

He plops onto a fresh bed at the end of the day. This was Lorroakan's bed, but Cal and Lia helped him out with cleaning the room. New mattress, new sheets, new blankets, and even new pillows. They tore down the hideous tapestries and paintings he had, and he plans to change the wall into a new color. He still needs to personalize the room to how he likes, but now it was his. No trace of Lorroakan is found here. He idly wonders how Tav decorated their room, or if they have a home to go back to. They're still a mystery to him.

As he lays there, staring at the patterned ceiling, he finds it strange he has a room to himself. It's nice, and he's never had more privacy than now. Sometimes Lorroakan entered in his room at odd hours to start a lesson at his leisure. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now due to the man's random visits. Now here he is, laying his bed, with his nights uninterrupted for the most part.

He has privacy.

...He’s pent up, isn’t he?

Through all the beatings and stress, he never took time to himself and get off. He was worried about getting caught by his mentor. On top of it all, he was too exhausted and hurt to even do much for himself, some nights barely having energy to bathe. But now…

With a sigh, he summons a mage hand to grab a book for him. When was the last time he read a smut book? Half a year, maybe more? Even then, he wouldn’t indulge too much as he never had a lot of privacy. With this large bedroom, the walls being silenced, and the time he now has, he will indulge for a little bit. For one night.

As he reads, there’s not much to go off. This one is poorly written, but he can at least give himself an idea. His mind sketches out a neutral form, no identifying…parts, yet. He’s indecisive, but he’s sure he’ll come up with someone satisfactory for the night.

Usually, his fantasies contain anonymous people with no face, or they wear a mask. It’s less embarrassing than thinking of someone directly. Sometimes they take him from behind, pinning the back of his neck to a table while they rail into him. Others he has someone under him, thrusting into them and littering bites on their neck.

For now, he imagines a person of no specific gender yet, holding him close in a crushing grip and devouring his mouth. It leaves him no room to breathe as he’s pinned to the wall, their thigh between his legs pressing up against his growing erection. Heat gathers south embarrassingly quickly, the tent of his pants tightening. What is Tav like in bed?

As soon as that question pops into his head, the blank person he tried to fantasize about turns into Tav. It shocks him how vivid it is, and he immediately sits up, book falling flat on the mattress as he drops it. No no no, absolutely not. They’re a friend.

A friend who pulled him in by the collar to kissed him with reckless abandon. A friend that was ready to pin him down on his desk. A friend who stroked a finger along his jaw to help him relax into their mouth.

Hells.

His fingers trail down his stomach and into his trousers, taking himself in hand. What’s the harm of indulging in this? They kissed, after all. All of their wonderful features are fresh in his mind. As he teases the underside of his shaft, he imagined it was their hand instead of his own. Precum was already beading at the tip, and he uses it to slick up his cock. He still feels their hands on him, pressing and demanding. He wonders what they would’ve done if they had more time. Are they gentle or rough when they stroke? He’s not sure whether he prefers one or the other yet.

None of this would happen, they have many suitors at their disposal. But damn it all, he could dream that they chose him, in the end.

Gods.

He covers his mouth tightly with his free hand, almost painfully as he thrusts up into his other one. This room is covered in silencing sigils, it’s not like anyone would hear him from the outside, but even he doesn’t want to hear his shameful sounds.

He feverishly switches to a different fantasy, this one containing Tav once more, though this time he isn’t complaining.

They’re both deep in the woods, away from the Tiefling party. They saved them all from the goblins, they deserved some compensation, did they not? Tav is pressed against his back, one hand putting two fingers in his mouth, rolling the muscle of his tongue between them while the other jacks him off. He’s utterly helpless, Tav taking control of his pleasure for him in the best ways as he helplessly grips the bark of a tree. They would tell him how good he was, how much they wanted him, how lovely his moans were. That he was handsome, strong, and worthy.

That they loved him-

Strings of white decorate his stomach, his climax coming with a stuttered gasp. It came more quickly than he thought it would, and his body spasms with how intense it is. The cry that climbs up his throat stops short by his hand.

He massages himself through it, feeling dazed and utterly pathetic. How dare he think about Tav in this way, as if they were an object for his pleasure? They’re not his, and he’s not theirs, no matter how much he wants to be. What would they say if they saw him like this, desperate and lustful even after his orgasm?

Gods, he wants them so badly, and he knows he can never have them.

Catching his breath, he feels disgusting. Filthy. He shouldn't think of them at all, he hasn't earned that right to them. It's pitiful.

To remedy his sin, he gets out of his bed and heads to the washroom. It's grand in comparison to his lowly basin in the shop, and he's unsure where to start now that he has access to it. Firstly, he takes out a Create Water spell scroll and casts it, filling the entire tub with water. He then modifies the Produce Flame spell to heat up the water. That will do for now, he'll figure out how to make the process a lot quicker later.

He takes off his soiled nightwear, stepping into the water with a slight hiss. All right, maybe he made it a little too hot, but it's nothing he can't handle. Lorroakan has burned him worse. As soon as he gets to the hip line, he pours lavender oil into the steaming water and sinks in completely. He's heard of the scent being beneficial for sleep, mostly from Tav. He wonders if they are an herbalist- no, no, he isn't supposed to be thinking about them.

Emptying his mind is proving harder than he thought. No thanks to his previous transgression, Tav's face plagued him. Questions pop up without him wanting them to: how does Tav look when flustered? Are they experienced with intimacy? Do they like pain? Are they sweet? What is their perfect date? How do they show their love-

He dunks himself fully into the water before the thought could finish, and he feels the sting of the hot water against his face as he sits under the surface. Finally, his mind is silent, so he holds his breath as long as he could. It's oddly soothing, just being alone under the water. A perfect escape to everything around him. He may just have to do this more often.

Unfortunately, he has not done any training to hold his breath, so he has to come up for air within thirty seconds. Perhaps he should practice, but that's for another time.

Now that his hair was thoroughly wet, he begins washing and conditioning his hair, giving himself a scalp massage while he was at it. He didn't trust the mage hands to do it for him. They were floating in the corner, waiting for a command. Can mage hands pout? It feels as though that's exactly what they're doing. Why are they so eager to help anyways? He should dismiss them when he has the time.

After dunking under the water again to wash out all the products, he exits the bath carefully, using Prestidigitation to instantly dry himself. Ah, what would he do if he didn't have that spell on hand? It is incredibly convenient. Can Tav use magic for mundane tasks?

He pauses as he slides on a robe. Gods damn it, it's happening again! That didn't last too fucking long, now did it?

With a groan, he marches back into the bedroom and towards the balcony, pushing the doors open. The night hair hits him immediately, sending a brief chill through him before calming. With a heavy sigh, he goes to the railing and leans against it, watching the silent city of Baldur's Gate. The lanterns have long burned out, and the stars are blooming above him, but he can't relax. He's desperate for Tav, and it's pitiful.

Pressing his forehead on the cold stone, he realizes what a miserable, selfish, wretched creature he is. After all of those things, he's somehow still hopeful. Why else would they kiss him like that? Is he reading too much into this?

Though, perhaps, instead of dwelling on unwanted thoughts, he should just let them go. Lia always did say he thinks too much. Cal mentioned it could be quite damaging on one's psyche.

So he lets the thoughts flow. All of the domestic ones and all of the lustful ones, too. He flickers through memories of he and Tav's interactions, thinking of what could have been and where he went wrong. The shouting, the aggression, the drinking. Gods, the drinking. He hasn't touched wine in a while because of it.

Then he lets it all go.

He raises his head, taking a deep, long breath of the fresh night air. He's in Baldur's Gate. They all made it. The Absolute's army is about to knock on their door, but just for tonight, at least in this moment, he's calm. He's okay.

Maybe he'll be okay later, too.

After an hour, he makes it to his bed and lulls himself to sleep, pulling up the thickest parts of the blanket to hold. It manages to lull him to sleep. A success, in Rolan's tired mind.

There's so much to do with so little time.

---

A tenday has passed and Tav has not returned.

It's for the best that they don't come, as they continuously plague Rolan's mind. He can't stop thinking about them, no matter how much he distracts himself. Most of them are lustful and depraved, some of which make him feel utterly ashamed. He has no right to think of them in this way.

Though, it's the other thoughts that confuse him the most.

They're domestically blissful. He imagines waking up in bed with them, nuzzling into their hair as they convince him to stay a few more moments. He imagines dates, lacing his fingers through theirs while telling them how stunning they are. He imagines it's their body that he pulls close late at night, and not a spare pillow he squeezes to his chest.

He hates these thoughts more than most, as it makes him silently grieve what could've been if he weren't such an arrogant prick. What if he was nicer to them when they first met? Would they have approached him a third time at the party and invite him to their tent? Embarrassingly, he's been losing more sleep than usual over the what if's, and it's making him sloppy with his work. Papers were scattered, he keeps losing his books, and ink stains have been appearing on his robes more and more lately. Unacceptable.

Is he truly this pathetic, losing sleep over domestic thoughts with someone unreachable? Is he that lonely? Does he crave company that badly? It is a wizard's curse, surely.

He thought he got over this, but it seems he needs more than one night to 'let go' of them. Damn it all, why can't this be easier?

He shakes his head, regaining his focus of the task at hand. Rearranging the scrolls once more, he stands onto his feet again and brushes the dust off of his robe. He proudly places his hands on his hips. Finally, after so many days, he has the counter exactly how he wants it. Everything is organized, not a speck of dust in sight, all of it is beautifully-

One of the doors slam open again by a gust of wind, and rage fills him to the core. Why, oh why are the gods so against him? Now there's dirt of the floor, he just made Krank sweep it all out!

The anger disappears instantaneously when he sees Tav rush through the door, sweat beading on their brow and their face flushes from exertion. Extremely similar to how they appeared last time-

Oh no.

As they rush past the counter to the same room they both in before, he starts following them without thinking. What in the hells was he doing?! This can only lead to something terrible for him, even if Tav would be none the wiser. Why does he torture himself like this? He finally has everything he could ever want, yet he greedy for more. For the one thing he can never hope to have.

But they need him, and he could never deny them.

He quickly enters the room after them, shutting the door on his way in. Thankfully this room is more presentable this time around, but he doubts Tav will notice it. They have never been one to look at the finer details. At least from what he has seen, it's not as if he spent much time around them. That thought makes jealousy swell in his chest.

"I need help again." Tav states, rustling up their clothes.

"I can see that," He sasses, but Tav is already pushing off the mantle that sits on his shoulders before pulling him into a kiss, hand fisting the front of his robes.

What has he done to deserve this punishment? Are the Gods testing him by dangling his one desire in front of him? They should know he's too weak to resist their touch.

He gasps into their mouth when they pin him to the wall, free hand grasping the back of his thigh. They easily put their leg in between his, which puts him in a daze. Is this truly an act if they would go this far, or are they testing his boundaries? The worst part about this is he never wants them to stop. He wants them to keep going and reduce him to a pitiful, breathless mess.

They're already succeeding in that, it seems.

When he feels them try to pry his teeth open, he lets them, tangling his tongue with theirs. The noise is so lewd in his ear, a blush immediately rising to his face at the intimacy of it all. He thought about this situation constantly, both through the actual memory and then to his fantasies. Though, fantasy is nothing compared to their real hand tracing the skin of his exposed neck, mapping out the dips and curves of his adam's apple. Images flash through his mind of them choking him, not to hurt, but to claim. He honesty hopes they would do so, but alas, their hand trails up to cup his jaw instead.

This action only made him more flustered, and while he doesn't understand why, he accepts it all the same and leans into their hand. No one has ever touched his face like this in many, many years. Usually it was hit or slapped, no thanks to his teacher. Even when their touch is as gentle as a dove, he can't help but flinch when their thumb strokes along his cheekbone. They pull away from the kiss, catching their breath with a question on the tip of their tongue.

As if the world is playing a joke, those same Flaming Fists burst the door open. They look surprised once again.

"Again?!" He shouts at them, bristling and baring his teeth.

"Do you fucking mind?" Tav yells after, giving them a hard-earned glare.

The Flaming Fists do not bother arguing again, turning heel and leaving the shop without another word. They look foolish, doing their walk of shame. At least they were quick about it, Rolan did not feel like giving them another lecture.

"How do you do, Rolan?" They tease, a hand still fisting his sleeve.

It is a miracle how he keeps his composure. "Well enough, I suppose. Now, as I said earlier, again?"

"There's a perfectly good explanation."

"Then?"

"They were assholes so I stole their money."

"I'm inclined to agree. They are quite intrusive in their searches. Though, must have you lead them here again? I just had Krank clean the floors of the shop from bottom to top!" He complains, running a hand down his face as he stabilizes his footing, "Now I'll have to command him to do it all over again. At least the bottom part."

"I know, I'm sorry to do this to you again. I can make it up to you!" The say quickly before taking a pause. "Wait, you reanimated Krank?"

"Despite being Lorroakan's, he still had his uses." He drawls, suddenly feeling trapped in their space. "Clearly weaponry is not the armors calling, so I have him clean the floors in the morning and at night. There hasn't been any complaints."

"It's animated armor, Rolan. It can't complain."

"I meant complaints from the customers, you absolute dunce!" He snaps and immediately regrets it, but Tav bursts out in a fit of laughter at his insult.

Never has he understood what was so funny about them being insulted. Does he look like a fool doing so? Are they laughing at him? He should be angry over it but he most likely deserves it.

"Well, I feel terrible for dragging you in here twice," They giggle, wiping a stray tear from their eye. "So I want to make it up to you."

"And how do you suppose you'll do that?" He challenges.

"Well, we already got the first part of it started, if you're interested." They tease, voice low.

Oh gods.

"We could take it further. I can feel your little friend down there, and I'm more than happy to help." They murmur in his ear.

A cold sweat hits him in that instant. This is his worst nightmare. He wants it, gods does he want it so badly, but if he accepts it there will be no turning back for him.

They attempt to cup his cheek but he turns his face away, gently pushing them.

“Rolan?”

“I can’t do this.” He says, unable to look them in the eye, but he feels the way they tense.

Before they can start apologizing, he continues, “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the Shadow-Cursed Lands, I think. I adore many things about you. But you keep holding me like this, kissing me, and it's starting to make me believe that there will be more than this, one day. When The Absolute is gone, and Baldur's Gate is safe, you would do me the honor of considering me as a...companion."

"Oh, Rolan..."

"I refuse to be a side piece, someone who will be at your beckon call whenever you're bored. You’re tugging at my heart as if it’s your plaything, and while I know you have not done this on purpose, I can't handle it anymore."

He exhales sharply, tilting his face up when he feels tears sting his eyes. "Please, do not torture me like this and just go. Leave."

When he’s met with silence, he swallows and blinks away the wetness of his eyes. He knew that he never had a chance, and that their affections were never real. How could his savior ever look at him like he looked at them? But that diversion of theirs was so wonderful, and for at least a temporary moment, he felt wanted. Desired.

Loved.

He knew he couldn’t continue. It is selfish of him and he would’ve been setting himself up for heartbreak.

Tav leans in close, eyes tender as they tilt his chin back down. “Rolan…I’ve been a fool. I thought I was being obvious.”

He finally can look at them in the eye. “What?”

They can't help but chuckle, but it is a good natured one, “I’m in love with you too, idiot. Why do you think I would keep seeing you in this way?” They ask, tucking some hair behind his ear. “I'm so sorry, I should have been more forward with you. I never meant to hurt your heart like this, you mean too much to me."

He must be dreaming, he has to be, but he can feel the of their body pressing against him. They want him too, and it makes his heart want to burst out of his ribcage. He isn't aware of the blush that rises in his face at their confession, making his already red skin grow crimson.

They carefully cup his face again, pressing their forehead against his, being mindful of his horns. "I'm sorry Rolan, truly. Could you ever forgive me?"

His adam's apple bobs with his swallow, but his face remains a stern look. "...Your apology seems genuine, and I forgive you."

"Well good, I was worried that I just fucked up my chance." They huff with a smile, gently pinning him against the wall once more. "Now, would you like me to try this again and kiss you?”

“Please.” He whispers instantly, tail coiling around their leg.

It was unclear who pulled in first, but what mattered is their hands were all over each other as they kiss fiercely. He felt one of their hands move back and grip the base of his tail. A pathetic whimper escapes his mouth, pleasure shooting up his spine. Tav happily nips his bottom lip in response before pulling away. “I want to see your bedroom, Rolan. Now.”

"As you wish." He responds breathlessly.

Using Dimension Door, he teleports the both of them to the top of the stairs of Sorcerous Sundries, pulling them through the portal and into the tower. This is a totally inappropriate use of one of his higher level spells, but his mind is in a sexually charged place. He'll chastise himself for it later.

His grip on their hand is tight, sweat gathering there as he teleports them again to the bedroom. It isn't customized to his liking quite yet, but it at least has the colors he wants. Deeper blues mixed with other calming colors to help him sleep. He doubts Tav is admiring the features with the way they pull him onto the mattress.

When they both settle in the bed, Tav quickly gets undressed, unclipping the armor and ripping off their under clothes in one fell swoop. Whatever he though their body looked like in his dreams, the real thing is so much better. Any little scar or texture change, he either wants to trace with his fingers or with his tongue. As they lay back and spread their legs, he reaches for them.

They gently smack his hand away when he tries to touch their chest, smirking. “No. You will sit back all pretty and watch.”

His mouth goes dry, surprised at the sudden command, but would he truly be a student of the Weave if he did not know how to listen to directions? He does as told, sitting back on his feet.

"Do you have oil in here?" They question.

"Right side, top drawer."

They crawl over and grab it, settling back into position as they drizzle the product onto their fingers. They make a show of it, too, playing with the substance between their fingers before their hand trails down in between their legs, locking eyes with Rolan.

He swallows as he watches them open themselves up, all for him. It sends his mind reeling with lust, and he’s still not allowed to touch. Torture, is what it is. They have him exactly where they want him, and he is not complaining one bit. Not in his wildest imagination could he have though of this scenario. It's incredible. They're incredible.

As they go on languidly slow, he starts feeling hot all over. His clothes feel too suffocating around his body, his trousers unbelievably tight. It takes everything in him not to palm his growing erection, biting a lip to stifle a small moan that threatens to escape his throat.

“I want to watch you take all those layers off, Rolan. It’s not fair if I’m the only one naked.” They demand, hooking their fingers inside of themselves and groaning.

He responds by finally taking off that mantle that sets heavy on his shoulders. They watch him unblinking as he instantly gets his robes off, seeing the tent in his smalls that expresses his want. It looks painful. He throws the robes, shoes, and smalls off somewhere in the room, his cock now in the cold air, leaking.

They smirk at the sight, now curling three fingers in with a long winded moan. “Gods, I can’t wait to have you in me. I bet you feel so good, look at that…”

Have they always been this good with their words? They always have in his pathetic fantasies, but the real thing makes him twitch in need. He wants to touch them, feel their skin against his in a blaze of pleasure.

Alas, he has to wait.

Finally, they take their fingers out of themselves and sit back up. “I’m ready for you.”

“I want to touch you, Tav.” He admits, fingers twitching on the top of his thighs.

They crawl over to him and sit in his lap, breathing hard as they wrap their arms around his shoulders. “You may.”

He takes some small amount of comfort in that they’re as hot and bothered as he is, watching their flushed face before they crash their lips into his own.

He whines into their mouth, his cock trapped in between their stomachs. The friction is positively divine and he already thinks he may be close with the way their fingers trace the ridges on his back. They're mapping them out, pressing against the wing impressions on his shoulder blades and then trailing them down his spine. As soon as they reach the base of his tail, they tug on it once more.

A gasp shudders out of him when they grind against him. “Tav, if you keep doing that, I won’t last much longer.”

They hum in approval, sucking a hickey into the base of his throat. “What if I promise to make you come again?”

“Tav, please—”

“Okay okay.” They relent, moving back a little to give him some breathing room.

They stay in his lap as they pull him in for another kiss, and he joyfully obliges. Their tongues dance as he gropes their chest, mostly wanting to feel the unique textures of their skin. They’re perfect, to him. He wishes they were some sort of god, because at least then he would have an explanation for his need towards them. This unrelenting desire that he has pleaded for every night when he dreamt of them.

He has so many dreams, one that wake him in a sweat and painfully hard in his trousers. He made a theory that indulging would help the process of forgetting his desires, but it seems as though his hypothesis was wrong. Dead wrong. His dreams of them only became more vivid, some tricking him into thinking it was real. He mourned when he woke up those mornings, wondering why the Gods were torturing him with their image, their body, their face, their laugh.

Hells, he hopes he's not dreaming right now, they feel too real. He can feel them biting and tugging his lower lip, so he concludes that they were, in fact, here with him. Making him feel so much better than his wildest fantasies. Their nails bite into the back of his neck as they briefly deepen the kiss, before pulling themselves away, a string of saliva connecting them. For at least a moment, he catches his breath.

With a solid push to his chest, he falls back onto the bed with a soft thump. He pushes himself back up onto his elbows quickly, breathing harsh. At first, he’s worried he screwed something up. Did his nails hurt their skin? He should have blunt them this morning. But then they straddle his waist and take hold of his drooling hard-on, ready to sink onto him. “Hold still.”

As they lower themselves, stars burst behind his eyes as he takes them fully, their walls squeezing around him so deliciously. He bites back a moan that tries to work its way up his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, he manages to hold himself together when they seat themselves onto him.

“Gods, you feel so fucking good Rolan.” They moan, clenching briefly around him until they finally relax. They do a test grind, and he knows he's hitting all the right places within them with the way their eyes flutter.

“So do you.” He says breathlessly, a light sheen of sweat already decorating his skin, pupils blown wide as his tail flicks about. The appendage instinctively reaches for something to hold onto. Anything at all. In the end, he settles with wrapping his tail around their waist, keeping himself grounded. They smile down at him when they feel it squeeze them.

He tries to reach for for their sides shakily, but they are more put together in this moment, and much faster. They take his hands, lacing their fingers through his, and pin them each besides his head. He’s only met with a grin before they start riding him with reckless abandon, gripping his hands unbelievably tight.

A groan that trails off into a whimper escapes his throat, hips subconsciously thrusting up into their tight heat. It felt positively divine feeling their walls clench around him, purposely teasing. They’re grinning, even when they toss their head back and moan. He squeezes their hands for dear life, already losing himself as their skin meets his. “Ah— Tav—“

“That’s it baby, I want to hear you.” They pant, leaning down and kissing him soundly. He lets their tongue pry his lips with ease, begging for a taste.

“I won’t last if— gods—“ he cries against their mouth, toes curling in the sheets.

“I don’t care, let me feel you. I want it.”

He curses when they clench around him again, clearly wanting to milk him dry, but he manages to stave his orgasm off. At least for a little bit. This felt so fucking good, he never wants it to end. But with the way they roll their hips, he’s not going to last. He wishes he could have last longer, giving them their pleasure the way they deserve after all of their hardship. They saved him, saved his siblings, saved the tieflings. Twice. Then they saved him for a third time. They did not have to, they could've walked away and let him lay with his poor choices. They didn't, and he's never seen them more angry than when they saw his bruised face.

His stomach suddenly tightens, giving him that impending warning he knows all too well in recent days. “C—Close, I’m close—“ he rasps.

“Me too. Fuck, you feel so good love.” They murmur thoughtlessly.

That nickname teeters him over the edge, and Rolan came with a cry in his throat. Tav was not far behind, fluttering around him as they came as well.

They breathe hard, resting on top of him and letting go of his hands. They instead use them to hold his heated face and kiss him gently. With his hands free, he wraps his arms around their back to pull them closer. He’s spent, exhausted, but he’s never felt more content as he kisses them.

Before they both could feel uncomfortable, he murmurs the words of prestidigitation and cleans them up as they rise off of his softening cock. They plop next to him on the bed, smiling tiredly.

“You were amazing.”

He laughs at that, wiping sweat off of his face. “I should be saying that to you.”

“Then we’re both amazing, hm?” They tease, scooting closer to his side. "Where did you learn how to fuck like that?"

"Must you be so vulgar?" He exasperates with a groan, making them laugh, "But if you must know, I have done extensive research on the subject."

"Ooooh research! What, did you study anatomy books?"

He groans, covering his face with his hands.

"Wait a minute, you have a smut collection?! This I have to see."

"Absolutely not!" He shouts, his face, neck, and ears now a deep crimson.

They burst out laughing, and as much as he wants to chastise them for it, he ends up laughing with them. He's never felt so light before now, as if he's finally feeling relief for all the trouble he's been through.

Gods, he's truly in love with them, isn't he?

"I can go for a round two, if you're up for it." They say after calming down their laughter.

He snickers at that, pecking heir forehead. "As much as that sounds wonderful, you've exhausted me for the day."

"Then how about some cuddling? Karlach always said I give great hugs."

He hums, pecking their cheek next as they wrap their arms around him. "I think I would like that, very much."

Letting out a deep rooted sigh, he feel all the tension in his body finally leave him. He should be disgusted by all the sweat gathered around them in the aftermath of their activities, but in this moment, he wouldn't have it any other way. There's time to complain about it later. Perhaps he can show them the bath he now uses. Would they be impressed by it? It certainly is better than whatever they have going on in the Elfsong Tavern. He wants to do everything to impress them, make himself worth their while even with the chaos that is their lives. But for now, he's calm.

For the first time, Rolan felt truly free.

"Does Krank know how to clean bed sheets?"

Snorting, he looks at them again. "I haven't made him try. He's decent at mopping and sweeping...somewhat. Why?"

"Just curious. It's cute how you just have a little servant now, cleaning the place."

"Krank is not a servant, he is an employee of my establishment."

"You don't pay him!"

"That is not the point! He works, does he not?"

They laugh, pressing their forehead against his. "Fine, fine, but why not make him clean your room, including the sheets?"

"He will mess them up! I know how to properly smooth it out and make this room look highly presentable."

"Oh, I'm sure you do...anyways, do you have a bath in here? I stink and feel sweaty." He barks out a laugh, reluctantly getting out of their arms and shuffling off the bed. "I do, it's in the next room over."

When he offers his hand to them, they happily take it as he leads them to the side room. The large bath presents itself, though it is empty right now. He should figure out a way for it to be ready automatically in any time of the day, but he'll work out the kinks later. He wants to show them that his fingers have talent in ways they wouldn't comprehend. All of it in the form of a heavenly scalp massage.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Vampire x Princess in a tower pt.2

Pt. 1

Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/cherie47467

TW: Love-bombing, non-con, dubcon.

Ever since your transformation into a vampire at the hands of Roman, the two of you have been inseparable. Feasting on the blood of beasts and man, being the most animalistic one could be. Not only that, but the sex has been better than every other fucking before.

"My darling, how about we go home to your kingdom and get some fresh blood?" Roman proposes, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulders. "We can also get some of your things and complete your move-in."

You hold back a moan as his teeth graze your skin and rub your husband's head.

"I think that's a wonderful idea. Besides, I need to get out of this castle," You respond, getting out of the chair and walking to your closet. "Casual or noble casual?"

"Casual. I like seeing you in that white dress with all the ribbons and ruffles. It makes me feel like I'm turning you all over again," Roman answers, not bothering to hide the tent in his pants. "But must you desire to escape my castle so badly? Why can't you stay here forever with me?"

"Roman, I've been cooped up in buildings long enough. I'm a vampire and more capable of exploring the world now. Imagine, I can go to all the village festivities, go to markets, buy food and the best wines!"

Roman glares at you, his purple eyes darkening.

"Roman, why are you looking at me like that? Are you really that bothered by me having fun outside that much?" You say, tying the ribbons on your dress.

"Yes. I mean, what if your former fiance wants you back?" Roman replies, walking towards you and helping you tie the rest of the ribbons.

"My former fiance is somewhere else and married to another. He literally forgot about me in a tower. That's how you found me!"

"Ok, and what if someone else tries to steal you away?! You're a beautiful maiden, and anyone would be eager to steal you away! Why can't you understand how I feel?!"

"You know what if you want to stay inside the castle that badly, you can stay! I'm going back to my kingdom to get my stuff."

You walk away from your lover, not noticing the desperate look on his face. As you venture through the woods to your kingdom, Roman is sending his best bat servants to secretly follow you.

~~~~~~~~~~

You throw the castle doors open, expecting to be met with scrutiny. Instead, the loving arms of your mother and father embrace you.

"My dear daughter, where have you been? We've been looking for you everywhere. I'm so sorry we were deceived by that horrible man!" Your mother weeps, not caring about your fangs. "If we had known he was a crazy cult member, we would've never engaged you to him."

"I'm sorry, cult member? What are you talking about? I thought he wanted me gone so he could marry someone else?" You ask, letting go of your parents.

"No. Turns out he belonged to a cult worshipping a powerful vampire named Roman Beaudelaire, who is centuries old and amassed powers that thrive in the darkness. He left you to die so Roman could find you and make you his wife for eternity. But I see he's already completed that part," Your mother says sorrowfully. "We can go to the royal doctor and return you to normal if you want."

"No way, Roman wouldn't do that. He saved me," You reply, remembering how Roman fed and nursed you back to health.

"Sorry, sweetie," Your father says, showing you a picture of Roman talking with your former fiance, both dressed in dark cloaks.

"I need to see the royal doctors now," You stammer, feeling ill.

Unbeknownst to you, a little bat had heard your conversation and returned to its master. Only to deliver news that Roman would find most dreadful.

~~~~~~~~~~

"She'll be fine after a couple of days. Just make sure she doesn't drink any blood, and her vampirism shouldn't return," The royal doctor says, taking the needle out of your neck.

"Get some rest, sweetheart. We'll bring you dinner later," Your father says, kissing your forehead.

The pain was all you felt as your body acclimated itself to normalcy. The most painful part was feeling your teeth and nails recede back into your gums and nail bed. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw a shadowy figure watching you but thought it was your mind hallucinating due to the medicine. When you awoke, you wandered through the royal gardens, reliving your childhood. After turning a corner in the rose maze, you find the path to your favorite section, the aquatic flora area. The entire area is covered in water with flowers growing everywhere. You enjoy the feeling of water touching your feet as you walk to the giant water lilies until you see your former vampiric lover standing before you. Without a second thought, Roman walks toward you and kisses your lips like he's never touched you before.

"I knew it. You went to the doctor to turn you back into a human again. Why? Why do you believe such lies about me after we spent weeks feasting on the blood of others and each other? I love you. I was saving you from your fiance," Roman questions, holding your shoulders.

"The only thing you "saved" me from was a happy life where I would marry someone else," You reply, shattering Roman's heart.

"Please, you've got to understand. I've been so lonely for all those centuries! I can't be alone again. I need you," Roman pleads, wrapping his arms around so tightly you can't break away.

"Roman, let go!" You exclaim, feeling his fangs on your shoulder. "I don't love you anymore!"

"Please, please don't leave me!" Roman cries, hugging you tighter. "I'll let you explore every part of my castle!"

"Roman-fine! I won't leave you! If-if I have sex with you right here, tonight, will you calm down and leave?" You ask, looking at Roman as his head moves from your chest.

"Of course," Roman replies, kissing your hand.

Roman uses his claws to swipe off the ribbons on your dress, letting the garment fall to the floor and get drenched in water. His eyes scan your body and force you to the ground, kissing your neck before his teeth pierce your skin. As you feel the blood drain from your body, your legs squirm underneath Roman. You feel weak and tap Roman to let him know you've had enough.

"Ro-Roman, please. Please, stop," You whimper, feeling faint.

"A little more, my love. I'm almost done," Roman whispers, kissing your neck and biting a new spot on your neck.

"Please-"

"You will enjoy my fangs."

You feel his power wash over you just like it did the first time in the carriage, and your body relaxes, heating up as you enjoy his touch. You shake with disgust as you see your shaky hand slowly make its way to Roman's head, pushing his fangs deeper into your shoulder. You feel Roman unbuckles his pants, and you see his bloody mouth smile.

"Darling, you look absolutely divine," Roman coos, about to kiss your lips.

Just make sure she doesn't drink any blood-

"No, anywhere else," You say, putting a hand between his lips and yours.

"Darling, don't be afraid. You've already been a vampire once. You know how good it feels," Roman responds, kissing the edges of your lips. "But if you must insist, I shall follow through."

Roman kisses his way down to your thighs, licking your inner thigh. You feel lightheaded, leaning your head back into the cool water, letting Roman enter you. You feel him thrusting, him kissing your chest as he pleasures you.

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you and only you," He chants like a spell.

Your senses overwhelm you as the pleasure builds in your body, finally, you feel some peace as your vision goes black in the cool water of the aquatic flora section.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Princess Y/N!" A guard yells, seeing your body lying in the water.

You wake up, your head hurting, and see your naked body covered by Roman's coat. The sun's light makes your skin glisten, almost annoying you as it blinds you.

"Princess Y/N, are you alright?!" The guard yells, picking up your body and wrapping it with the coat.

"I'm fine. Just drop me off in my quarters, and I shall be fine," You reply, clinging to the guard.

The guard does as he's told and places you on your bed. Once the door shuts, Roman comes out from behind it and gives you a lovesick smile.

"I'm sorry I had to end our late-night romance so early. I wanted you to be awake when you experience the ultimate release from my pleasure," Roman says, walking towards your bed. "Now then, how about we return to the gardens tonight to finish where we left off?"

You can only lay in bed as he sits next to you, stroking your body.

"I love you, Y/N. No matter how many times you try to push me away, you know you'll come back to me. You loved being a vampire and being your most authentic and animalistic self. It's just the way things are meant to be. We're destiny," Roman says, kissing your forehead and sliding beneath the bed to cuddle you. "So stop denying me."

[sorryimdyingrn]

SCAREDY CAT (Severus Snape x FEM! Reader)

Summary: Y/N, Snape's assistant in class is easily scared and tends to overreact when someone creeps up onto her. What's going to happen when Snape decides to do so?

Warnings: Smut, improper use of the Incarcerous spell, Sub Snape, Dom Reader, handjobs, FEM! Reader, idk what else to put there, Idk probably incoherent English in some places.

Oh man I really am doing that. For the last few months I have been bringing myself to this moment trying to put some words together but this is the first time I'm actually succeeding in doing so! I hope you won't cringe to death and excuse my poor English as it's not my first language ❤️

A normal work day. Nothing out of ordinary and nothing signaling the things that were about to happen. The students were acting like students, other Professors doing their job sometimes stopping in their busy tracks to say Good morning and Snape shooting her those weird looks. They weren't hate by any means. They were more like... Fondness??? Who knows. No one really saw Snape looking at someone with fondness so no one could tell.

Y/N calmly stood by one of many desks in classroom, cutting up some Boomslang's skin to fill up a jar in Snape's storage after someone stole it. The swift movements of her wand made a quiet swish, leaving the ingredient cut into perfect strips easily fitting into the jar.

The scene was peaceful, no one to interrupt, no one to say anything and definitely no one to look at the way her hands moved like Snape liked to do while she was doing her job.

Severus Snape... Y/N's thoughts drifted to the dark and broody Potions Master. His cold aura was intimidating and she couldn't lie - if definitely turned her on a bit. Sometimes she liked to imagine how his elegant hands would feel like against her skin, his lips against hers, his dick in her hands as he looked up at her with pleasures in his eyes and him whimpering out her name with-

Y/N shook her head to get rid of the dirty thoughts clouding her mind. The last thing she needed was being horny and distracted right now. She sighed softly and went back to her work.

Snape stood silently in the doorframe, looking at his assistant with a softer gaze. As much as he would rather gnaw his own leg off than admit this, he liked her. He liked her a lot. Her happily glimmering eyes, her soft smile, her figure that he wished to see without clothes... And her voice... Oh her sweet voice that he imagined every night moaning his name and telling him how good he was for her when he palmed his painfully hard erection through his trousers crying out loudly...

An idea popped into his head. A devilish and seemingly at the moment perfect idea. It wasn't unknown that Y/N had a tendency of getting scared at the slightest things and her reactions were quite entertaining. A slight, almost unnoticeable smirk pulled at his lips as he silently closed the door and creeped up behind her. She still stood there unaware of what was about to happen. So happy... So innocent...

Snape raised up his hand slowly and gave her a gentle jab to her side.

Y/N jumped up with a loud shriek.

"SON OF A BITC-"

Without looking at her attacker, she swished her wand aggressively in the air. A black rope shooting out of the air tying Snape up in a rather questionable position, his hand flying out of his sleeve, now laying around a meter away from him. He was on his knees, his hands tied back to his ankles tightly, not allowing him to get up. Well that wasn't the outcome he expected.

Y/N looked down at him annoyed, right now not caring about the situation he was in.

"Not cool man. Not cool. You know I have a weak heart." She said while shaking her head disappointed.

The way she looked down at him sternly... Fuck, the way she stood over him in such a towering and dominating manner while he was on the floor kneeling... Snape shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he did...

He sighed defeated, trying to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts clouding his mind. Why was he into this?

"Yes, yes. That was uncalled for I know." He admitted his fault, shifting slightly with annoyance. "Can you let me go now? It's rather provocative position I'm in." He looked up at her, trying to look stern and cold the best he could.

She just then noticed his position, her eyes taking in his rather embarrassing state. Her finger went up to her chin in a thinking manner.

"Hmmm... No." Y/N replied bluntly and walked up to the door to lock it. "You scared me without thinking about the consequences of your actions, now you have to be punished."

The last sentence made Snape's mind fill up with very VERY inappropriate things. His position, her stern demeanor, locked doors, her talking about a punishment... It all made his thoughts go to a very dirty place, sending a jolt to his already hardening length.

He had to suppress a whimper when he saw her walking back up to the desk to resume her work. His face was on the perfect height to see her ass and thighs in the complete display. The sight making his cock twitch in the confines of his pants that felt wayyyy to tight right now. His eyes were glued to her backside with a needy look. Oh what he would give to touch her beautiful curve right now...

"Please..." He muttered under his breath, knowing that if he would say it louder, his voice would sound desperate and whiny.

Y/N sighed annoyed, her back still turned to him as she moved to bottling other ingredients.

"Can't hear ya. Speak louder if you want me to actually listen." She replied, still not happy about his little prank.

The feeling of his erection was now becoming slightly painful. He felt a bead of precum dampening the material of his boxers. His breath was heavy as he futily tried to control his arousal.

"Please Y/N..." Snape spoke up louder, his voice came out as a high whimper (just like he expected)

Feeling a rush of arousal through her core, Y/N turned around quickly to look down at him. She noticed his dick straining against his pants and her eyes widened.

His face grew panicked and lustful as he noticed her staring at the tent in his pants *Shit... She'll think that I'm a creep! She'll be disgusted by me and I will never-*

His train of thoughts was stopped as he loudly cried out involuntarily. She gently pressed her shoe to his cock, massaging it lightly

"Aaah! Please!" his head rolled back and hips bucked up to the contact, relishing in even the slightest touch to relieve his hard-on.

Y/N smirked and crouched down to his level. She grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it slightly so she could see his flushed face.

"You're enjoying this? You enjoy being tied down and being punished like this?" her voice was amused and lustful as she took in Snape's heavy breathing.

Snape nodded his head eagerly, as much as her hold on his hair allowed.

"Mhm! Yes! Yes please I need- AH! MMMHH~

Y/N cut him off as she started to firmly palm his cock through the material. His hips were bucking up to the contact. Whines and moans were falling out of his open lips as he withered slightly under her touch, ropes restraining his movements a lot.

That moment was better than the things he imagined. How could he go go back to his own hand after feeling this? After feeling her?

She ran her thumb over his clothed tip, earning a shudder and a gasp from him.

"Fuck... You're sublime like this Severus... Those sounds you make are like heaven itself..." She whispered into his ear, leaving a kiss right under it.

He whimpered pathetically in response.

"Stop... Stop teasing..."

Y/N obliged immediately, almost attacking the zipper of his pants. After almost ripping his pants open she took his length out.

Snape hissed at the cold dungeon air against his sensitive dick. It was standing rigidly up, the tip already flushed red and leaking precum steadily.

Without hesitation Y/N took his length into her tight fist, waking him, hard.

Snape tried biting back the whines and moans of pleasure, failing miserably. He was writhing and bucking his hips up desperately, seeking more friction.

The sight was incredible. His cold and stern expression contorted into a face of pure pleasure. His mouth was open, gasping loudly and his eyes were rolling into the back of his skull with tears almost tricking down his cheeks.

"Please! Please Y/N I'm so sensitiv- Ahh~"

His orgasm was approaching quickly. His cock started twitching and his moans gained in volume. If she didn't stop he would-

"Are you going to cum? Are going to make a mess for me?" Y/N whispered into his ear before attacking his neck with kisses and gentle bites.

The only thing Snape could do was whine loudly and nod eagerly. His thighs started trembling, the uncomfortable coldness of stone floor long forgotten.

"Fuck... Come for me Severus... Come and look into my eyes... I want your fave to be engraved into my memory... I want to remember every single sound you let out as I make a fucking mess out of you..."

The pure filth that left her mouth spurred him on even more. She was still holding his hair tightly, her eyes now glued to his face.

Before he could warn her, the white hot pleasure took over his body with strings of his seed shooting over her hand and their clothes. He cried her name out and arched his back almost into a 90° angle (he might be almost 40 but that flexibility is still on POINT✨).

His head fell forward onto her shoulder as he panted loudly, trying to calm himself down.

With a swish of Y/N's wand, they bother were cleaned up as she tucked his softening length back into his pants almost lovingly. The hand gripping his raven locks now eased up and was gently running through his hair in a soothing manner.

"You can scare me every day if that's how it's going to end up every time" Y/N chuckled, getting rid of the binds on his body.

Snape only could quietly groan tired in response.

Hi! I have a feeling that was one of the most pathetic smuts that exist on this platform, although it just might be my opinion because I wrote it. If you have any feedback or tips then I'm more than happy to hear about them! I once again apologize for incoherent English. I hope that it's not actually as bad as it's in my eyes and that someone might actually enjoy this!

Now goodnight ❤️

[mrsoharaa]

˚₊ ‧ ꒰ა🤍 ໒꒱ ‧ ₊˚

Satoru has no concept of personal space or boundaries, so when he senses you taking a long, dark, candle lit bubble bath in his master bathroom, alone...best believe that man is thrashing through the door like a shameless, needy buffoon that he is.

The slick coat that covered your pretty skin, the flickering small light of the cackling flames from the candles peppering your soaked flesh with such beautiful colored hues complimenting your complexion almost rakes out every heavy breath panting from the gawking, white haired mans lungs. Completely sets down the bag of goodies he had stopped to get for you (since he knew you were on your period, he actually took the time after training his students to pick you up some supplies and your favorite snacks) onto the sink next to him.

His heart races fervently against his hefty chest, blinded sight practically searing through the thin binding covering his perfect, awe-struck vision.

He leisurely sits himself down next to you on the edge of the tub, one hand reaching for your soapy lathered leg and massaging the supple, smooth skin. Almost makes you melt under his wooing touch, leaning your head back against the back of the wide marbled tub as you feel your body coax perfectly with the hot, bubbly water basking into your tense skin and Satoru's generous soothing massage.

A soft, satisfied sigh leaves your lips, all worries and stress evaporating from your aching body. You glance over to the grinning, lanky man still massaging your relaxed limb, feeling his languid fingers gradually linger more further upward with enticing grazes.

You tilt your head lazily over onto your shoulder, lips curling into a tight smile, eyes focused intently on his slick maneuvering.

"Satoru" you finally murmur with a shrill threat dipping into your soft voice, he simply hums nonchalantly. As though he doesn't know what he is doing, also tilting his head as an act to his faulty innocence. His fingers continue to skim up along the pliable flesh of your legs to your mid thighs.

An electrical shiver crawls all through your lower body up to the arch of your spine from his not-so-subtle touches.

"I didn't start a bath just for you to seduce me, dummy" you twitch your leg a bit from him, but his grasp had already tighten, bringing it back to his gracious touches. He chuckles lightly, tracing soft shapes along the plush of your mid thighs with cooing strokes.

"Could've fooled me love" he remarks, laughing at the subtle splashes you made towards his slick retort, hitting nothing but his invisible shield (Infinity) blocking from staining into his clothes.

"Seriously Satoru, I just want to relax" you whine dramatically, leaning your head back against the marbled stone of the tubs back, untensing your shoulders and leg muscles.

"I'm here to help you with that baby...just let me help you, that's all I want to do" his crisp voice draws you in, glimpsing back at him wearing such a serious and intent look (so not like him, and that lets you know how serious he was actually being).

Your brows perch highly, adjusting your body as you lean forward closer towards your leering towering boyfriend, carefully removing your leg from his clasp. Your arms cross over one another amongst the side of the tub, resting your chin on your forearms as you gently poke and stroke at his pants against his knee. All while lazily starring up at him.

"No funny business though Satoru, my body is yelling at me and my uterus is already twisting in ways it shouldn't" you sigh in defeat, watching the excitement quickly sprawl all across the sorcerers flawless face, like a child getting permission to pick out their favorite toy from a store.

Doesn't take him long to fling off the restricting clothing confining his surprisingly bulked, well fit stature. Pooling the nuisance of cloth against the frame of the creaked door, carefully maneuvering into the tub behind you, and wrapping his prolong, burly arms around your smaller figure. Pulling you in close into his firm chest, with your back flushed perfectly against his welcoming skin.

You carefully lay your head back against his chest, listening to the steady heart beats and breathing rhythmically waft through his chest. The warmth and comfort of his beefy arms securing you closely into his enthralling embrace. Feeling ever so safe and adored by him. Entrapped by his weighing, soothing presence.

Your eyes slowly peek up to meet his closed ones, carefully studying, admiring the beautiful snowy curled lashes gently grazing his skin beneath his eyes. The scattered imprinted marks from his strenuous fight with Sukuna, decorating ever so breathtakingly along his luscious flesh. He was a beautifully decorated canvas that told lulling stories, a sheer work of art through your eyes that you didn't think you'd come to know and love. A pillar of pure enchantment and unyielding love.

Lost in your own wonderment and awe, you hadn't realize the growing smirk playfully tugging at the sorcerers lips, perking down at you. With one eye peered open, taking in your greedy admiration for the man, Satoru could only wallow away in the intent adoration and gawking you were bathing him in. Feeding into his attention hunger and ego.

"You know the more you stare, the harder it is for me to not to appreciate you more, myself baby" his smooth voice chuckles coyly, adoring the sudden fluster draw out along your face. His arms locking in more firmly around you from squirming out of his grasp, holding you close and steady against his built. His glossed lips meet the open span of your torrid cute cheek, placing a gentle, tender kiss upon the plush flesh.

"S-shut up Satoru...I was just...looking" you pout softly, whipping your head back forwardly as you adjust your body against his.

Finally finding a comfortable position for yourself, you could feel the heat of his breath fan against the shell of your right ear, his chin nestled ever so comfortably amongst your shoulder, arms still latched safely around you. Completely and utterly content.

"You're so cute, my cute little soon to be wifey" he toys subtly, gingerly nipping at your ear lobe, snickering at your jolt to his actions. Feels your shoulders nudge against him, smirking ever so smugly and childishly as he always does.

"Satoru, I will kick you out if you don't stop" you warn, face still hot from the steam of your bath to the growing flustering blooming throughout your entire body. He laughs carefully, detaching his teeth from your lobe as he settles back gently onto your shoulder, this time resting his cheek flatly against the supple skin. Humming, almost purring to the consoling touch of your skin masking with his.

His smooth lips brushes faintly against your neck, pressing delicate kisses upon the inviting space.

"Haha...I'm sorry sweetheart, here let me just...hold you...let me take care of you, my love" he sweetly croons into your neck.

"Let me tend to you...can I spoil you princess? I'll pamper you, make you dinner and everything...tonight is all about you, my heart, service and entirety is yours to command" he gives you another subtle kiss against your neck, feeling you tense up to the warm, fuzzy touch of his silky lips. Breathing ever so lightly to his every touch and pledges to you.

You hum to yourself, leaning your head a bit as you raise your right hand to cup his cheek and smile, glancing in his direction.

"Aren't you being such a sweet kiss up? but...of course 'Toru, tend to me tonight please...I missed you and your touch honestly" you mumble softly, melding deep into his endearing embrace, readjusting your body to face him directly as you cup both of your hands onto his cheeks. A honed smile gracious his face, leans into the warm invite of your palms, kissing delicately amongst your skin.

Big, round globes of brighten cerulean meets your generous gaze, his hands draping over the curves of your body.

"The feelings mutual baby...of course I'll tend to you, that's all I ever want to do...want to make you feel good, want to make you feel safe, loved and absolutely adored...I want to hand you the world and then more"

˚₊ ‧ ꒰ა 🤍 ໒꒱ ‧ ₊˚

[lavenlady]

Hello! Can I request a yandere Sentinel Prime with reader who has Nifty’s personality from Hazbin Hotel? Thank you! Have a good day/night!

I thank you! Have a nice day/night too! Enjoy Anon!

𖦹 Little Psycho 𖦹 | Tf one Yan!Sentinel Prime x Nifty!Cybertronian!Reader

➸ When you were forged, you were servo picked by Sentinel to attend to his tower, whenever he was absent

➸ Being a clean freak - you always greeted him with it being spotless, almost sparkling from your cleaning

➸ Sentinel grew obsessed quickly

➸ You are more like a housewife instead of a maid - or at least that is how he sees you

➸ Your obsession with mechs isn't really helping you with your situation, enamored with Sentinel as if he was a god, nearly worshipping the ground he walks on, with feeds his ego even more

➸ You are so busy worshipping him that you don't even notice his lies towards citizens of Iacon

➸ Sentinel is a possessive, manipulative and self-aware as a yandere

➸ He knows that he shouldn't feel like that towards someone lesser than him, but who would even know and even if someone knew, there would be no trace of them left, erasing them from existence

➸ He knows how to get his way, whenever someone would be aware or not, trust me, he does

➸ In other words - when Sentinel is killed by D-16, now called Megatron, you quickly get over him, you didn't care about him as much as he cared about you

➸ Maybe you even start to worship the former miner, thanks to your impulsiveness, as he was a strong, well-built mech, who showed his power to the citizens of Iacon

➸ Or maybe you would go after Orion Pax, now Optimus Prime, a literal godly mech that bested the best of the Hight Guard, chosen by Primus himself to bear the Matrix of Leadership and finally freed everyone from Sentinels lies

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

( I hope you liked it! )

(Master list)

(Request away!)

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

continuation of this post (bird adeptus reader)

Foul Legacy is naturally bigger than almost all mortals, and some immortals, too- he's taller than both Shenhe and Ganyu, your sisters, and even towers over Cloud Retainer, human or adeptus form. really, you shouldn't feel bad about the size difference! it's normal, especially for an Abyssal creature!

but while your human form's height is relatively ordinary, your adeptal form is... small. as in, finch-sized. easily carried in a child's palm. it's also your most natural form, even after you master shapeshifting, so you often wake up as a tiny songbird nestled on top of your pillow, the rest of the bed empty- it scared Legacy at first, when you would seemingly vanish, but he quickly put the pieces together when the same small bird would keep showing up where you last were, chirping at him sheepishly and bounce around on the mattress. he simply chirrups back, extending a hand palm up so you can hop into it if you'd like.

as embarrassing as your adeptal form is, you'll admit that Legacy's hand is quite comfortable, especially when you nestle down and fluff up your feathers. he curls his claws in slightly so you won't fall, carrying you around your domain and letting you enjoy the sun- he knows the feeling of wanting to be in the form that's most natural to you for a few hours. it's what Ajax feels after days of not using Foul Legacy, the urge to transform and curl up amidst several soft pillows gnawing at his subconscious. sometimes, if he also wants to bask in the sunlight, he'll set you on his head, allowing you to nest in his soft copper hair as you take a nap together.

you apologize profusely once you transform back into a human, face warm as you bow your head. but Foul Legacy just purrs, leaning in to scoop you into his arms again and cradling your human self, giving you a playful lick on the cheek. don't worry- he'll hold you close always, adeptal or human form.

[cloverthebarbearian]

Could I request a Rolan little one-shot where he realizes he has feelings for Tav/reader (your choice!) like hits him like a freight train kind of realization?

Thank you for the request! I bestow upon you my holiday tidings with a gift I hope you enjoy hehe

Thank You (Rolan x GN Tav)

He didn't think it possible, and yet… Here he was. A well known, well respected Master of Magic, thriving in the city of Baldur's Gate. Successful, secure, and safe. Surrounded by family and friends alike. It truly is nothing short of a miracle. To think 6 short months ago, he would have been ignorant enough to have thrown everything away all for a huff of Lorroakan's dust.

Rolan chuckled to himself. Were the bastard still alive, he couldn't hold a candle to him now. He stood proud atop the balcony of Sorcerous Sundries, watching patrons and practitioners peruse the enchanted wares. Now more than ever, business was booming. With the help of fellow magic adept Gale of Waterdeep and Tav - the very Hero of Baldur's Gate themselves - they had managed to uncover quite the trove of hidden knowledge within the depths of Ramazith's Tower. After setting aside what they together deemed too dangerous for public exposure, they gathered the remainder of the collection to add to the Sundries shelves.

Were it too bold to believe this would usher in a new era of magic for the common mage? Rolan had been juggling the thought. After everything he'd gone through - everything Tav had done for him - he had been trying to catch himself in moments like these. Reminding himself to remain humble. He was a proud man, why shouldn't he be? This was something to be proud of! But he knew all too well how easily pride devolved into arrogance, and arrogance to hubris. And he didn't achieve any of this alone. Were it not for that queer collection of intrepid adventures, he would still be under Lorroakan's thumb. Still the punching bag of a cruel and selfish Master.

His grip tightened on the banister before him, until he heard the familiar woosh of a transportation portal activating nearby. Soon followed by the unlatching of the locked metal doors, and the spilling of said adventurers from the upstairs offices. Hands full of tomes and scrolls and bits and bobbles collected from within the tower chambers.

"Don't mind us!" Gale stated once he caught Rolan staring, his chin just barely peaking over the stack of supplies in his arms, "Just one last restock of the shelves below to keep this fortuitous business of yours flourishing and we'll be back on our way!" Nearly tripping over himself in the process, he managed to make it down to the ground floor of the establishment without any disastrous spills occurring.

Cal and Lia came shuffling through the doors next, bickering with themselves, significantly more manageable amounts of potions and alchemical ingredients in their own arms to add to the storefront collection.

Tav came from the small room last, a bundle of wands and staffs strapped to their back. After turning to lock the office door behind them, they caught Rolan's eyes with a smile. Joining him by the terrace edge, they too overlooked the bustling crowd below.

"Pretty remarkable what you've managed to do with this place," they commented. Rolan smiled and shook his head.

"What I've managed-?" He scoffed, "I don't think any if this was independently my doing. But... Thank you," he replied, still watching the patrons beneath them.

Tav nodded, smiling once more before stepping away. They had barely made it three steps down before Rolan called after them.

"Actually-!" His voice caught as Tav turned back and looked up at him. Rolan bit his lip in thought, tilting his head as to motion for Tav to return. They made their way back by his side, and he shifted to look at them.

"Actually, Tav… I don't think I've ever thanked you. Properly, thanked you."

Tav smiled, friendly and goofy, "Actually, Rolan, you have thanked me before. Quite a number of times," to that, Rolan smiled sheepishly.

"Sure, sure. I've thanked you for saving my and my family's lives a dozen times. I've thanked you for saving the city. But I don't think I've ever thanked you for… well, This," he gestured back out towards the bustling business.

Tav looked out, smiling once more in sincerity. Taking a deep breath in, they turned to Rolan again, "I would say 'you're welcome', but I'm not sure why I'd have anything to do with your trade being a success. You're the wizard here, not me," they nudged at the staffs on their back, "If anything, I'm your glorified errand-boy. Thank me by giving me a pay raise," they joked.

Rolan laughed, "You're much more to me than an errand-boy, Tav. You know this."

He looked them in the eyes again. For a moment, he felt as if he were seeing them for the first time.

The events of the Absolute incursion took their toll on everyone in Baldur's Gate - in Faerûn as a whole. But Tav was at the center. Rolan wasn't sure he'd ever see a day when they managed to drop their seemingly perpetual state of being Battle Ready. But in this moment, they seemed so relaxed.

Their hair was down, their clothes were loose and comfortable. Save for a small dagger on their belt, they carried no weapons. And more than anything, Rolan could feel the energy around them was… Calm.

Tav wasn't much for magic. They knew a few handy cantrips, but they were no seasoned spell-slinger. Perhaps it was simply Rolan's attunement with the Weave itself, but he always felt the energy surrounding Tav was… Bristling. Like a consistent build up of static shock one bad touch from being released. However, before him, in this moment, Tav was calm as the Gray Harbor at the break of dawn.

"Uhm…" Tav cleared their throat, breaking the silence Rolan hadn't even registered was building between them. Snapping back into reality, he noticed his skin was warm. Palms clammy and fingers tingling, "I'm going to put the supplies up. Maybe once things settle for the evening, we can discuss my salary over a pint," they joked, winking as they turned to descend the stairs once more.

Rolan watched them go, blinking as their words caught up with him, "Ah, u-um, yes! Let's do that!" He called out, likely not even loud enough to be heard over the crowds.

His heart was racing. Why was his heart racing? Why was he watching them maneuver the crowds, assisting guests as they unloaded supplies? Why was he so enraptured as loose hairs fell into their face, and they ran their fingers through the wisps that framed their travel worn features? Gods, why was he noticing their travel worn features?!

Rolan swallowed deep, though his throat was dry. Tav was indeed so much more than an errand-boy.

And oh, how his cheeks burned as he realized… He may have incidentally agreed to a date with them. Tonight.

[rederiswrites]

What resources would you recommend for someone new to vegetable gardening? I'm in Zone 6 surrounded by Zone 5, and my initial web searching is overwhelming. I have a north-facing porch and I'm sure my dad will let me plant in his yard, though I might be fighting with the dahlia and lily bulbs that are already there.

Also, do you have any arguments I can make to my apt complex about why we should have a community garden?

Oh man this is always such a hard question, tbh, because there's so MUCH? You know? And I've been reading about this and studying it for like...since I was a teenager? But let's see.

First, the dahlias and lilies shouldn't be too aggressive, so there's that. And a north-facing porch won't give you much by way of tomatoes and peppers in your zone, but you can get loads of greens and herbs! Might be fun to maximize space with one of those super cool planting towers I've never had any excuse to get!

Over on Youtube Kevin Espiritu of Epic Gardening is really great. He's both very approachable and very rigorous about evidence based practice. Also fun and cute, so there's that. There are a lot of other gardening channels that come highly recommended but which I don't have any direct experience with. Hopefully someone else will jump in with more recs!

I just went and looked at my gardening bookshelf, and I'll be totally real with you, I remember reading most of them, and some of them made an impression on me, but none of them stand out as The Beginner Book. Like, Eliot Coleman's books are great for learning about season extension--which in your climate my well be something you want to learn about early on--but they're not specifically for beginners. Carol Deppe's The Resilient Gardener is a great book I should probably re-read, but it's specifically about gardening under adverse circumstances. Which, now that I say it, is also immediately relevant to a lot of people. Sigh. Anyway.

Oh I guess I am almost literally contractually obligated to prop for Master Gardeners and the Extension Service, which put out excellent, science-based regional information, such as when to start various plants in your area and how to address noxious weeds you're likely to encounter.

But to be honest I feel like I'm shit at answering this question!! So I am begging my many other gardening mutuals and followers to add their favorite resources, please!

[shisekibo]

[Story Translation] Chapter Six - A Glistening Cage [Episode Two: Part Four]

↫ previous story | story list | next story ↬

- The Old Tower - No. VII -

Haures:

“We've arrived."

Berrien:

“Master, it's rather dark around here. Please hold my hand so you don't lose your step."

Choices:

“Thank you."

The Old Tower was wrapped in darkness and clouded with silence.

Muu:

“It's so quiet."

Choices:

“It's so creepy..."

Haures:

“Mr. Berrien... The Capture Squad is ready."

Nac:

“The Bow Squad is ready too."

Berrien:

“Understood."

Berrien:

“Master, we should move further away from the Tower. We don't want to get in the way of the Capture Squad."

Choices:

“Okay."

Berrien:

“Sardeis soldiers. Scouting party. Please follow me."

Berrien:

“After we move, please surround our Master."

Yuhan:

“Understood."

Teddy:

“Rodger."

Scouting Party Commanding Officer:

“Yes..."

crunch crunch

Berrien:

“This should be far enough.”

Choices:

“Thank you."

Berrien:

“All of our squads are now fully prepared."

Berrien:

“All that's left... is to wait for the Angels to show up."

The air was thick with nerves, strained with tension.

...

Lucas:

“Hm? What's that...?"

We followed Lucas' gaze to see something shining in the sky.

Miyaji:

“It's not an Angel..."

Berrien:

“It looks like... a large birdcage."

Muu:

“What on earth is it?"

Bastien:

“It's slowly moving down..."

Berrien:

“Master, please unleash our power."

Choices:

“Okay."

You:

 “Come! Sworn friend of the Darkness. I summon thee!”

You:

 “As bound by the Devil’s Contract, release the Butlers powers.”

Miyaji:

“Right. Let's go."

Teddy:

“He grew ears...?!"

Yuhan:

“Wow. I didn't know they had these kind of powers too..."

Miyaji:

“Hm? Why are you so shocked?"

Lucas:

“It's definitely a surprise the first time you see it."

Lucas:

“Most humans don't have animal ears."

Miyaji:

“Can you stop talking so much, Lucas?"

Lucas:

“He's always rude when he's like this. Be careful, everyone."

Haures:

“Everyone, be on guard."

Lono:

“Yeah, this could be the Angels attackin'."

Fennesz:

“It looks like there's someone inside."

Strange Child:

“Help me...! Help me...!"

Boschi:

“That's... the child the Angel's kidnapped last time."

Lamli:

“Poor thing..."

Lono:

“How vulgar, trapping her in a cage like that."

Fennesz:

“Haures, are you okay?"

Haures:

“Yes... I'm fine..."

Haures:

“Nobody move!"

Haures:

“Until the Intelligent Angel appears, our priority is protecting the Master."

Boschi:

“Of course."

Lono:

“Got it."

Fennesz:

(Good. Haures seems calm.)

Strange Child:

“Help me...! Help me...!"

Strange Child:

“I want my brother!"

Strange Child:

“Help me...! Haures!"

Haures:

“S-she called my name...?"

Fennesz:

“H-how does she know your name?"

Haures:

“No... It's not possible..."

Haures:

“It is her. It's really Tricia... How else would she know my name...?"

Haures:

“Tricia... This time... I'll..."

Boschi:

“Tsk. Haures is going to lose it again."

Fennesz:

“This isn't good...!"

Haures:

“I've always regretted it..."

Haures:

“This whole time... I didn't know where it was okay for me to still be alive."

Haures:

“Smiling and being happy..."

Haures:

“They always felt wrong to me. Like I shouldn't be allowed to feel such positive feelings..."

Fennesz:

“Haures! Calm down!"

Boschi:

“Haures!"

Haures:

“I need to save her..."

Boschi:

“Haures! You aren't planning on jumping in again, are you?"

Haures:

“I need to save Tricia..."

Boschi:

“Tsk. He can't even hear us."

Boschi:

“Our only option is force. Fennesz, hold him back."

Fennesz:

“Yes, you're right..."

Bastien:

“It looks like they got to Mr. Haures."

Miyaji:

“That child said his name, didn't she?"

Miyaji:

“She really isn't just some lost child."

Lucas:

“That seems to be the case."

Muu:

“What do we do, Master?"

Muu:

“If we don't do something soon, Mr. Haures might do something drastic again..."

Choices:

“We need to stop him..." "You're right..."

Unable to just stand and watch, I called out to Haures.

Choices:

“Haures! Calm down!"

Fennesz:

“That's the Master's voice..."

Boschi:

“It came from over there."

Haures:

“..."

Haures:

“M...Master...?"

Boschi:

“Oh, so you can hear their voice but not ours?"

Boschi:

“Haures! You need to get it together!"

Boschi:

“It's obviously a trap!"

Fennesz:

“He's right! That's not the real Tricia!"

Fennesz:

“It has to be an Angel trap."

Fennesz:

“I don't know how they're doing it, but they're trying to make you lose your focus."

Haures:

“Ugh..."

Haures' grip on his sword trembled.

He was fighting against every instinct.

Berrien:

“Is he going to be okay...?"

Choices:

“Can I go see him?"

Berrien:

“But... It's too dangerous for you to get that close to the front lines."

Choices:

“Please, Berrien." "I'll be right back."

Berrien:

“Okay. It looks like you have a plan."

Miyaji:

“I'll carry you over, Master."

Choices:

“Thank you, Miyaji."

Berrien:

“Please take care, Mr. Miyaji."

Miyaji lifted me into the air and began to run towards Haures.

[darthgloris]

Our Padawan

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!Jedi!reader

A/N: this has been in the back of my mind for so long, I'm so glad I'm finally writing this down 😃😃 I love you all and hope you're happy and healthy

Warnings: fluff, family dynamic, platonic!Ahsoka x reader, Anakin being the best boyfriend ever

Summary: Padawan learner Ahsoka Tano takes a big risk during a mission: fighting General Grievous on her own. Her Masters, Anakin and Y/N, are ready to protect her from every and any danger; when they get her to safety, Anakin is relieved, but Y/N's fear of losing the young girl gets in the way of being glad that Ahsoka didn't get hurt.

Our Padawan II // Our Padawan III

☆☆☆

"They sent the child to destroy my station? The Republic must be running out of Jedi!"

Ahsoka shifted her stance to defensive as she prepared her lightsaber.

To be truthful, this wasn't supposed to be a mission, but Anakin's "do as I say, not as I do" teaching strategy didn't seem to have the best results, and more often than not it ended up in the young Padawan doing exactly as he did.

And now she was facing Grievous nearly on her own, only accompanied by her fellow soldiers.

"You must be General Grievous."

The cyborg cackled exaggerately.

"He's just another tinny, boys. Let's scrap him like the rest." She sassed, lunging forward with her green lightsaber.

Grievous quickly blocked the blow and managed to shove her off. She hit the ground with a pained groan and looked up as the Clones shot at him. He deflected all the blaster shots, killing one of them and slashing two others with his lightsaber. He towered over Rex, who was sprawled out on the ground, and raised his weapon over his head. Ahsoka's eyes widened and she leapt in front of her friend, blocking the General's weapon with her own.

"Sorry to interrupt your playtime, grumpy, but wouldn't you prefer a challenge?"

"That wouldn't be you." As Grievous ignited a second lightsaber, she cringed internally.

Maybe she shouldn't have said that.

...

"Where is the fight you promised me, youngling?"

She was definitely getting in trouble for this.

Y/N and Anakin would kill her. She knew they'd be furious with her for doing this, but there was no turning back now.

She hid behind one of the metal shelves in the storage room, looking out for a way to escape. She used the Force to knock an item down on the other side of the room to distract Grievous, then made for sneaking out.

As if on cue, her commlink beeped. Damn it. She cupped her hand over it to silence the noise before answering. "Ahsoka, it's me, Rex. There are only two of us left. Should we abort the mission?"

"No, complete the mission. Set the charges and rendezvous at the landing bay." She replied as quietly as she could.

Ahsoka cut him off as he tried to protest. "That's an order, Rex. I'll keep the General busy. Ahsoka, out."

She turned off her commlink and silently crawled through the shelves as Grievous' gruff voice rang out again.

"Come here, child, I'm looking for you. So far you have failed to impress me."

The R3 unit found her as she backed up against the wall, flattening her body over the cold metal. "Goldie, over here." To her surprise, the droid shone a light on her, revealing her location. "Goldie, no!"

She gasped as the cyborg pulled the commlink off her wrist and destroyed it, making her miss the message Rex was about to send. "Your friends won't help you. You're stuck with me." His figure towering over her was certainly intimidating, but she slipped through a shelf and away from the General as fast as she could.

She climbed up one of the shelves and watched as Grievous asked Goldie for the report. "That stubby little backstabber." She whispered, feeling betrayed.

"Skywalker has come for his R2 unit?" He chortled. "Go and make sure they do not escape."

A sting of fear pierced Ahsoka's heart. Oh, no.

...

Y/N's brows knitted together as her commlink beeped. Anakin turned to give her a look of confusion, wordlessly asking her a question. "It's Rex."

Anakin frowned, wondering what was going on.

She immediately answered the call. "Rex? What's wrong?"

"We ran into Grievous."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. Fives and I survived."

"Only you two? Where are the others?"

"Three of us were shot down... and Grievous is going after Ahsoka."

"Ahsoka?!" The two said at the same time, worry lacing their voices.

"Y/N, out." She said and ended the call, beginning to walk away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Anakin hollered, running to block her way. "Where you going, tiger?"

"Where do you think? To save our Padawan's ass!" She snapped, then regretted it as she looked at his face. "I'm sorry, Ani. But we need to move now."

"Come on." He said, trying to give her a comforting smile.

...

Ahsoka climbed down and used her lightsaber to illuminate her surroundings as she peeked around the corner. She then turned it off and relaxed her tense posture slightly, but it didn't last long as Grievous grabbed her by the throat in a second, casting her lightsaber aside.

Her eyes widened in fear as Grievous towered over her, grabbing his weapon.

"Another lightsaber to add to my collection." He said as he ignited it and held it up near her face. "My R3 unit has dropped your precious Masters. When I'm finished with you, they're next." She strained her arm out to try to pry the lightsaber from his grip with the Force, failing. She was tired and her breath was running out.

"That was it?" He cackled. "Do it again. Come on." Ahsoka closed her eyes, reaching out to the Force. The weapon was grabbed from his hand successfully, but not by her. Grievous made a confused noise as he dropped the girl to the ground.

Y/N gripped the weapon tightly as she shoved Grievous away from Ahsoka: she blocked all his blows before successfully tripping the cyborg and hovering over him, her lightsaber at his neck. Ahsoka's eyes widened in shock and surprise as she watched her Master fight, with Anakin standing in front of the Padawan to protect her as she handled the fight, glaring daggers at Grievous while shielding Ahsoka with his body.

"If you ever come near our Padawan again, I swear to the Maker I will rip your teeny face off your teeny skull." Y/N growled, leaning the lightsaber closer to his throat.

"Oh, she's-she's under both of your training..? I didn't know that!" He excused himself meekly, stumbling over his words.

"Leave!" Anakin snapped. That was all it took to send him running away. "Snips, thank the stars you're all right!"

He knelt down in front of her to hug her tightly. He could feel the relief flooding him like a tidal wave as the young girl nestled into his embrace. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head in response, raising her head to look at Y/N. "Masters, I-"

She silenced her with a glare. "You nearly got yourself killed."

"I... I'm sorry..." she said quietly, looking at her feet in guilt.

"Let's go back to the ship."

Y/N walked on ahead as Anakin looked down at his Padawan with a pout, knowing the impact the scare had on his lover.

Her mind was running a thousand miles an hour. If they had gotten there a few seconds later, Ahsoka would have been killed. The mental image was crystal clear: her limp body in her arms, her blood staining her fingers, Anakin's bloodstained hands and arms wrapping around her to comfort her as sobs racked her body-

"Stardust? You all right?" As if he knew whenever she was getting into her own head too much, Anakin's soft voice pulled her from her thoughts. When she clutched onto him for dear life, he swept an arm under her legs and picked her up bridal style, kissing her head before walking away. "Wait here, Snips."

He carried her into another room and set her down on the ground, pulling her onto his lap as she broke down in tears, hyperventilating as she sobbed in his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ani..."

"Hey, you have nothing to apologise for, love," he soothed, massaging her scalp gently. "Tell me, what are you afraid of?"

She took a moment to regain her breath before speaking. "What if one day we don't get there in time? Just the thought of finding her makes me tremble..." her voice shook. "I love that girl, all right? I love her like a daughter and I can't lose her, Ani... not to this..."

Anakin's heart broke at the words: he already crumbled whenever he saw her cry, but hearing her speak those words in a desperate, scared tone made him want to take her in his arms and kiss all her pain away.

"I know, my love, I know," he hushed, nuzzling his nose into her hair. "Listen, I love her, too, and I certainly don't want to lose her... but she's not a child anymore. She's making her own decisions and learning from them. I know you feel like you need to yell at her until she promises to never do it again, but we need to stop babying her."

"Fine."

...

As they landed on Naboo, Y/N walked out the door first, not looking back as Ahsoka looked at Anakin in guilt. He responded with a sympathetic look, then walked up behind his lover to give her a back hug. She relaxed slightly as she melted into his arms, letting a few tears slide down her face again. He seemed to notice because she felt him kiss her shoulder and then lean closer to kiss the tears off her cheeks.

"It's alright now, my love. She's safe." Anakin whispered in her ear.

She shook her head, trying to push the lingering fear away. "Ahsoka."

The girl took slow, sad steps towards them, looking down at her feet to avoid catching their angry looks. She didn't know whether her Masters had a fight or not, but she was sure they were going to be mad.

"Ahsoka, what were you thinking?" Anakin asked when she stopped in front of them.

"You could have been killed! And what's worse, you put Rex and Fives in danger!" She continued, trying to keep her composure. "Why did you do that?"

"I... I was just trying to be brave like you guys..." she whimpered.

"Anakin and I are only brave when we have to be." Y/N said, her face softening as she looked at her.

"Snips, being brave doesn't mean you go looking for trouble." He added.

"But you guys aren't scared of anything." She said, looking up at us.

"We're scared of lots of things. And we also were today." Anakin spoke.

"You were?"

She hummed in response, tipping her chin upwards to look her in the eyes. "We thought we were going to lose you. We care about you very much, Ahsoka. And if something were to happen to you, I..." She trailed off, her eyes glossing over with tears. "I honestly don't know what I'd do with myself."

Ahsoka walked closer to her and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist, and Y/N sighed as she hugged her back. "I'm sorry I made you feel this way, and I care about you guys, too. I won't do it again."

Her heart swelled at the words and Anakin walked closer to hug both of then, squishing Ahsoka between them. She was surprised to see how calm they were, and honestly she was glad. "Thank you. That's very mature of you."

"Now go back inside, Snips. It's getting cold." He said, chuckling.

"Okay. Good night." She said as she pulled away and walked back inside.

"Eat something before you go to bed!" Y/N called out.

Anakin smiled at her caring attitude and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend once again. She finally smiled in content and leaned into his embrace with a sigh. "You handled that really well. I'm proud of you, my love."

"Thanks." She chuckled and turned around to kiss his lips softly. "I just- I didn't know I loved her that much..."

"Neither did I. But now we have her promise. That only leaves overcoming your fears, doesn't it?" He asked, smiling softly as his blue eyes looked deeply into hers.

"You're right." She replied and pressed their foreheads together, enjoying the moment of intimacy. Because of the Jedi Code, they were forced to avoid public displays of affection, so whenever they could get a minute to just be together, basking in each other's presence in a way they were forbidden to otherwise, they left all cares behind.

"Anakin?"

"Hmm?"

She looked up at him with her big doe eyes, flooding with love and admiration for him. "Thank you for being so supportive."

He smiled, then leaned down to kiss her shoulder. "Don't thank me, my love." Then he pressed his lips with hers in a slow and passionate French kiss. It was when Y/N let out a low moan that he decided to pull away.

"My love, we can't do this right now."

"I know." She mumbled grumpily, making him giggle.

"I promise that'll be the first thing we do when we get home." He whispered sultrily in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"I love you, Ani."

"I love you too, stardust."

[blisss777]

Can you write about the reader being bullied by the other Padawans and Ani protecting her?

Of course😊👍🏽

Warnings:bullying, harassment, angst, slight self-hatred, fluff at the end

Walking through the quiet halls of the jedi temple I sigh at the aches in my bones, slightly bruised, though that is expected when training with anakin.

Passing by the temples cafeteria I fail to notice a couple of jedi walking out of the door, laughing loudly and joking with each other. One of them spots me, a cruel smirk taking over his face.

"Y/n that you?, I was wondering where you've been. Haven't seen you around lately." He strolls up to me, raising a brow and tilting his head. "What, you don't have enough time for your friends anymore?"

My back hits the wall as my eyes widened in fear, anxiety filling my lungs as I struggle to breath. They all crowd around me leaving me with no way out. "Cain please let me go, master obi-wan is waiting for me." I speak as my voice wavers, lying and hoping he'd leave me be for once.

But I should know by now that cain and his little minions will never give up a chance to belittle me, making me feel as if I'm not worthy to be a jedi. To have the same opportunities as them.

"Ah c'mon, I'm sure master obi-wan wouldn't mind it if you're a little late huh." He puts a hand on my shoulder and holds me there, gripping painfully tight as I wince in pain. The others around him snicker maliciously and nod along to everything he says.

"Please-" I whisper before cain abruptly cuts me off, "where's the chosen one huh, he got sick of you following him around like a lost little puppy, I know I would." He snarls out and shakes me by the shoulders, slamming me back against it again. And I cry out at my previous bruises from training getting irritated more.

I don't know how this started but I do know why, as teens cain and his little group of friends never took notice of me. But after becoming friends with the great anakin skywalker, the chosen one, that all changed. They believed that someone as renowned as Anakin shouldn't even bother with someone as bland as me.

As cain goes to shove me again a familiar voice shouts out angrily, "get your hands of off her now, before I do it myself." Anakin sneers out as he steps between me and cain, shoving him back by the shoulder as his friends all grab him and stop him from tumbling over.

There is a look of shock and fear on cains face, his little friends cowering behind him. "Please don't tell master windu, we were just joking. Right y/n?" Cain is shaking like a leaf at this point, and rightfully so. Anakin is towering over them with a glare so profound that it's surprising they haven't melted like wax into the ground at this point.

"No, you don't get to talk to her, don't even look or breathe in her direction again or I'll make you regret it." Anakin blocks me from cains view as he tried to peer around him, cain throws his hands up in surrender.

Cain nods his head rapidly I'm sure his head would've fell from his shoulders, pushing his friends in another direction as they bolt from view around the corner. Anakin turns to me immediately and gently grabs my arms, looking me over for any damages.

"Are you alright, y/n look at me." My eyes snap up to him, sighing in relief at the sight of his face. Covered in worry and seething anger, I know anakin won't let this go. He's persistent and stubborn.

He holds me close to him and leads me to the jedi council, explaining to them what he saw. He leans his head down so I can whisper the names of cain and his friends, telling the jedi council as they all speak between them selves to figure out what to do.

"We will send a message for them to be here immediately, and we will suspend cain from the jedi temple for good. As for the others, they will be punished accordingly for having a part in this behaviour." Master windu firmly states, giving me and anakin permission to leave.

Anakin holds me gently, leading me all the way to my room. Helping me sit and going into the kitchen to get water, handing it to me so I can take tiny sips. "Why didn't you tell me?" I look over at him, his hands in a fist and his head lowered.

I sigh shakily and set my glass of water on the table, wringing the bottom of my shirt in my hands nervously. Anakin looks up at me, grabbing my hand to stop me from fidgeting. Caressing it with his thumb as I lean my head on his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around me.

"I thought it was pathetic, I'm a jedi I should’ve been able to stop it. Instead I just let it happen." I whisper looking at his hand holding mine, his touch comforting.

"You're not pathetic, if anything they're the pathetic ones for treating you that way." There's a hint of anger in his voice though he tries to hide it, pulling me against him and laying his head on mine so I don't see the anger on his face.

"I promise I won't let them bother you again, no one will." He promises and I turn in his arms to hug him, and I just sob. Anakin wraps me up in his arms and he tries to rein in his anger, his hand patting down my hair and his other rubbing my back in circles as I cry.

He whispers comforting words as he holds me, and I know that I'll be alright as long as Anakin is by my side. He holds me until I fall asleep, leaning back a little so I can lay comfortably against him. And he stays there for a while, with me laying on his chest. He throws his jedi robe over me to keep me warm as i slept.

Authors notes: whew I finished it, sorry if I answered your request a little late. But I hope that this is close to what you wanted🤗

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Dom Bucky, Sub Steve.

Steve wants a Prince Albert piercing but is worried about word getting out about Captain America getting his dick pierced. Bucky asks Tony, who has a guy for that (of course he does) and arranges for a discreet professional to pierce Steve in their floor at the tower. Bucky kisses Steve while the piercer works and swallows down the hurt little sounds Steve makes.

Whenever they get a whole day to play, Bucky strips Steve down and keeps him naked all day. Keeps him hard and wanting. Attaches a little jingly bell to the Prince Albert so he can hear Steve wherever he’s crawling in their apartment. He can hear when Steve’s dick twitches as he calls him a good boy, smacks his ass, slaps his face with Bucky’s dick. That little jingly bell is the sound of a very happy Steve, right where he wants to be, at Bucky’s feet.

First, okay, so, whenever I hear about stucky and piercings, I think of "Titanium (I'm Bulletproof, Nothing To Lose)" by sassbandit which isn't sub Steve and dom Bucky, but actually Bucky getting re-acclamated to his own body after HYDRA with piercings and just 🤤 So, I highly recommend that.

Second, GOD, you mentioning Bucky kissing Steve while it happens lights up the sadist part of me so bad 😮‍💨😮‍💨 like--

I can't fucking stand it. Christ.

This got longer than it was supposed to (when doesn't it? it's me, lmao) also, obviously, pain kink under the cut, so if that's not your thing, this isn't for you

Just imagine how tears would be pouring down his cheeks in streams by the end--he's so sensitive, and, yeah, Steve has experienced a lot of pain in his life, in his body, he can deal with pain silently when he needs to, but he doesn't need to here not with Bucky. Plus, Steve's not... never... he's never had it centered right there like it is with this piercing. And it, it feels so intense. More intense than choking cock rings restraining him, taking his decisions away from him mouth-wateringly, more than thick sounds fucking deep into his cock where his body knows it shouldn't be, setting off these weird, incredible warning bells in his head, more than Bucky squeezing his balls until he chokes on a sob, pain curling deep into his gut and tugging on him hotly, and even more intense than Bucky's fingers cruelly flicking the head of his cock, making it hit against his rigid abs, getting him messy with the spray of his own dripping pre-cum, such a filthy, wet boy, all too eager for the hot, molten pain. It's a fucking lot for Steve to take--getting pierced.

So, tears overflow from his blue eyes like a gorgeous fountain. He looks straight out of a painting. Untouchable. Masterful. Alexandre Cabanel's own. Pale, marble skin with all that redness and wetness transforming his eyes to be ever bluer, glassier. Staring up at Bucky like big, round jewels. He looks so innocent--so helpless.

And, fuck, Bucky loves it.

But it's not just his wet eyes and spasming chest with barely stifled sobs that have Bucky in a chokehold. It's his mouth, too. Steve's lips are glistening wet with spit from how he continues to worry his bottom lip between his teeth and run his tongue over his lips, too. He's just trying to hold in his little sounds but, actually, all he's successfully doing is making himself look more affected--more debauched and wanting, strung out from the anticipation and pain. His lips look plush and fat and wet just like they do when he's finished sucking Bucky off; his throat raw, mouth buzzing. The tip of his nose is red, too. All that crying. Poor thing. Blushing, heated, so overwhelmed, all at once dangerously attractive and snugly adorable. He's fucking--

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

He is temptation.

The things he could convince Bucky to do. The things he has convinced Bucky to do. Anything. Everything.

Steve's turned into this shivering, whimpering, and gasping thing from having his dick pierced. A precious bit of submission enwrapped in thick muscle and smooth, pale skin unmarred by all the pain he's taken--willingly and unwillingly. He's so, so strong. But he's a contradiction. Steve has always been. So commanding and bossy but so, so willing to melt and follow like a fucking dream under the right hands--under Bucky's hands. It makes Bucky want to do so many delicious, good-bad things to him. Just--holy fuck. Bucky could weep, having him like this.

Steve.

His submissive.

Bucky wants to swallow him whole. Christ.

Ever since the serum, Steve's been super needy and super sensitive, and now is no different. Shivering. Whimpering. Gasping. He just can't not fucking squirm and writhe. He might even beg to be held down as it happens because he wants it, he wants it so bad, and he needs to be good for it, but he's not sure he can. Not by himself, at least. Every little touch feels so big. He keeps gasping and flinching, his body twisting, contorting, all that muscle rippling, poetry in motion. His abs are clenching, quivering--coiled up. He's sweating through his tight, tight t-shirt and his pants have gone missing. It should look silly, but it doesn't because it's Steve It's devastatingly attractive instead. Like a wet t-shirt contest, cold water making his shirt transparent and his nipples achingly hard, all too obvious through his shirt. But it's not water. He's just submerged in submission and he likes it, he likes it so fucking much.

All the attention.

The touches.

The cold metal against his dick is like Bucky's arm but so unlike it, too. The sharp points of needles remind him of the danger of Bucky's glinting teeth during particularly mean blowjobs that bring him to his knees, head lolling back, lashes fluttering. The gentle praise and check-ins this God-sent piercer is doing with him are similar to what Bucky does when they try something new. He's so safe. He feels safe. And it's why he's letting go. He wants this fucking piercing more than anything. He wants it just like he wants Bucky to have him, control him, and make all the decisions for him.

So, before and after the piercing, Steve is curled up into a little ball, turning toward Bucky for comfort.

Before it happens at all, he has to be hard for the piercer to know where to properly place the Prince Albert on him (you don't really have to be hard, at least as far as a Google search tells me, but, shh, let's pretend because it's hotter, lmao) and so, of course, Bucky is the one to get him nice and ready, stroking him off, clenched tight in his metal fist, metal like the piercing he's about to get. Steve's breath keeps hitching, unsteady and rough, he's trying not to moan, and trying not to get too worked up, too. He can still cum so easily, even after all the years of having the serum running hot and thick through his veins. He's trying not to moan because he's so, so aware of the fact that the piercer is right there, practically whistling to themself, letting Bucky get Steve ready in peace, the utmost professional, but it's so embarrassing, too. He's hyperaware of their audience and the fact that Bucky doesn't even need to jerk him off for more than a mortifying few strokes because, God, he's been looking forward to this forever. It's too easy to get hard, it'd be so easy to trip over the edge, make a mess that would be so obvious, and then stay hard because--because he wants it. He needs it.

After, when he has it, fucking finally, Steve curls into a ball again. Now he's definitely crying. Really crying. Tear tracks obvious down his flushed cheeks. He's sobbing from the exhilarating pain. Flying high, eyes squeezed shut. Chest heaving. Hurts so good. His tears wet Bucky's shirt and the thin, intimate skin between his neck and shoulder as his fists squeeze at his shirt, the seams groan with his shaky strength. His bottom lip can't stop quivering as his hot little mouth hangs open dumbly. His knees are drawn in so close, curled around his throbbing, throbbing, throbbing cock. The tip of his cock feels so hot and inflamed. It's all he can feel, all he can pay attention to, completely locked in the moment and aware of every nerve in his dick and balls. Lit up. Electic. The way the pain drips like lava down his shaft and pools in his balls, it feels like someone's shoved a cattle brand into his guts--awful and torturous and so fucking good that he can't stand it. He literally couldn't stand if he tried, instantly, he would crumble back to his knees, wilting into himself, curling up, all divinely hurt.

Oh, God.

He wants it to be healed already. He wants Bucky to touch him again and not to do the aftercare for him like they already negotiated, he wants Bucky to touch him. He wants to cum. He wants to know how it feels when Bucky tugs on his piercing with his fingers and worries it between his teeth and the sound it makes when it hits against Bucky's metal hand. He wants the familiar rhythm of his tight fist and the new tink tink tink sound of metal on metal underneath it. He wants it. Of course, he cries 'cause it's overwhelming--all that ache--but he cries because he's already so frustrated by the healing process, too (typical Steve). He wants to touch it. More importantly, he just wants Bucky to touch it.

Please!

When they get home, Steve just cries harder, sobbing, barely restraining himself from thrusting, humping, and jerking his hips into frustratingly thin air when Bucky lays him out on his back on their bed, peeling his clothes off him, slow and gentle, to take a look at what they've just had done. Slithering between his spread thighs, Bucky's breath is hot and humid against his sweaty skin as he examines him up close and personal, using his strength to keep Steve's twitching thighs spread mortifying wide, making room for himself and his big shoulders. He doesn't touch. He just looks and expertly dodges Steve's wild, frantically bucking hips. Steve wants in his mouth so fucking bad. He's so achy and tender, it's all he wants. It wouldn't be long, he just--just for a second! He wants--

Please, please, please!

He knows he doesn't get to tell Bucky what to do, he doesn't get what he wants unless Bucky wants to give him what he wants but he can't help it! It's raw and molten hot and he feels so, so alive. He's a goddamn mess.

Uhh...

What?

I think I blacked out writing that. I'm not taking prompts yet, I still have a few weeks of school left for this year. But, um, clearly, this just hit the sadist in me too hard, and I couldn't resist.

As for the aftermath of a bell on Steve's pierced cock? Jesus Fucking Christ. Yes.

I don't think I can think about that without blacking out and going on another rant, so just know... Y-E-S. I agree.

[cerbaros]

FFXIV Write Prompt 7 : Morsel

It truly was humiliating sometimes. Standing next to his allies all towering over him. All able to do things that he could only wish of doing. Their nickname for him didn't help either. Little Birthdayboy. Sure, he didn't have a name for them to call him, but couldn't they have chosen a better one.

It was already a bad experience to work alongside these people. Not strong enough to carry anything. Not smart enough to think up of any plan. All he could do was swing a sword or shoot a bow. With each passing day, with every completed mission.

The mentality of never being enough. Never having the capabilities to be of aid. Each day, feeling more and more like but a small morsel standing by these behemoths that are the scions of the seventh dawn.

If only he could have the intelligence to rival Y'shtola or Urianger. Or the ability to sneak around like Thancred. Maybe he could help Tataru with any of the maintenance or accounting. Or one day be as coordinated in battle as the twins. But he is none of those things. And he probably never will.

That shouldn't stop him. No, it won't stop him. He just has to find something only he can do. Some way to help everyone. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But by honing his skills. Mastering what little he knows. Something will unlock. And he too, will be able to stand next to these giants proudly. He too will be able to call himself a scion.

[literatureatthebowofnails]

100 Followers + 34th Birthday Celebration

Hello my loves! I can't believe my fortune. I'm increadibly thankful to have 100 of you following my little writing blog.

There's nothing like The Mango to bring us all together! As a huge "Thank you!" to each and every one of you, and to celebrate my 34th birthday arriving in a month, I'm throwing my first party. My asks (as always) are open, so you can submit requests there, or here in the comments. Pick one of the 34 settings and/or one of the 100 prompts below, then send them to me in an ask! I'll be writing the first 134 requests (or however many I get) over the next month. That's my goal date. They will all get written, so long as they're submitted by 11:59 PM GMT-5 (US Central Standard Time) on November 22.

And now for the prompts

Settings

Bifrost

Streets of Asgard's Capital

Asgardian Wilderness

Inside the Palace (you may specify or not)

Palace Grounds (you may specify or not)

Jötunheimr Wilds

Ruins of Jötunheimr's Capital

Secret Passageway

Puente Antiguo

A Vehicle of Your Choosing

Upstate New York

Project PEGASUS Joint Dark Energy Mission Facility

Stuttgart, Germany

Quinjet

Helicarrier

"That big, ugly building in New York" (Stark Tower)

Sanctuary II (Thanos's ship)

Chitauri Cruiser

Avenger's Tower (not to be confused with its predecessor)

Svartálfheim

TVA

Mongolian Sand Dunes

Streets of New York

New York Sanctum

New Asgard

Sakaar

One of the Grand Master's Ships

Haunted Victorian Mansion

Church

Graveyard

Alter

Midgardian woods

Place of your choosing in MCU

Place of your choosing in our reality

Prompts

Peter's former babysitter meets the Avengers

"Where, pray tell, do you think you're going?"

"Stark? That man is nothing but a dick in a tin can."

"Unhand me, you rancid cumsack!"

"Oh, but for you...for you, darling, I'd do anything."

"What's that, darling? No one has removed these with a blade before? What a shame...we'll have to remedy that."

"Just to feel you pressed upon my need..."

Defying gratification

His forked tongue dancing against the sides of your clit

Bachelorette party

Tony: Doing time as a capsicle/Scott: Now I really want a capsicle...popsicle. I want a popsicle

"Fuck me, Father, for I have sinned..."/"Say seven 'Hail Marys' and suck my cock"

Halloween

Thanksgiving

Christmas

Hiking

Downpour

Snowed In

First Snow

AU (doesn't need to fit one of the above locations)

Caramel apples

Rewrite a story (of your choice) from the Poetic Edda

Timeline branch (you choose where on the Sacred Timeline)

Excerpts from Odin's A+ Parenting Handbook

“You’d do well to pay. It’s in your best interest."

On Wednesdays kings wear chains

Loki on his knees

All tied up (you choose who)

Threesome (so long as I know the character, I'm willing to do crossovers from other fandoms as well)

That one time he had a thing with a horse...

Headcanon from one of my fics (completed or ongoing)

Why orphans are called Loki's children

"I don't negotiate with people who shouldn't exist."

Out of place and underdressed

Witch

Your ex

Crush

Reading

Opening Night

"Selvig is not coming to my wedding!"

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Kittens and Handcuffs

Lady Loki

The other Lokis

Shadow play

Lost in a corn maze, you meet an overly-helpful stranger

"Come over here and make me"

Ravens

Lost dog

More Lokis than you know what to do with

Ignore the man behind the curtain

"Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

Oktoberfest

Ballroom dancing

"I was drunk, ok?! I didn't know what I was doing. Can you just drop it already?"

Caught

Trespassing

"I almost lost you."

Tea

"Keep running your mouth like that and I'll have to put it to better use."

Punishment

"Daddy"

Carving pumpkins

Baking

"Don't you ever do that again!"

Kids

Babies

Pregnancy

You get some magic of your own

Spooky

Tired

Nap

Hayride

"Kiss Me"

Kidnapped

Wine

Catch me if you can

Jam

Stalker

Neighbor

"It could be worse"

Flying kites

Hospitalized

Runaway

Pride

Costume party

Trapped

Whispers

Loyalty

Bonfire

“Please wake up. I can’t do this without you.”

Ghosts

Innocent

Spiked

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Cozy

Sweater weather

Mole

Full moon

“Just once”

Many, many thanks to all of you, especially mutuals. This fandom always makes my day. Please keep reading, engaging, re-blogging, and creating!

Works completed for this event:

Excerpts from Odin's A+ Parenting Handbook

Tag List

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed

@peaches1958 , @javagirl328 , @loopsisloops , @goblingirlsarah , @buttercupcookies-blog , @cakesandtom , @ladymischief11 , @km-ffluv , @coldnique , @glitterylokislut , @eleniblue , @lokiprompts , @lokisgoodgirl , @muddyorbsblr , @princess-ofthe-pages

[the-mic-drop]

TotK Spoilers Below Cut

Regarding Korok Forest

Nothing in either installment of the Wild Duology gave me a greater sense of dread and fear than going into the Korok Forest for the first time in Tears of the Kingdom. Not my first Lynel encounter, not my first Guardian encounter, not my first trip into The Depths, not even my first encounter with the Gloom Hands put the kind of spine-tingling horror into my soul. Sure, those all made me nearly piss myself, but the infected Korok Forest was a unique, well done brand of horrific.

So you get to that one stable, meet Kilton and Koltin, say what's good to Tera, and by now you're thinking "I wonder what's good in the Lost Woods." Now, let's say for the sake of argument that you don't go right into the Minshi Woods Chasm and try to go the original way. Immediately you can tell something's off. Instead of the surreal blue mist you remember, it's a chalky black miasma, and there's no getting through it. No clever wind puzzle either, it's impenetrable.

So now the dread is really starting to build. Both that you have to go into The Depths and that something's wrong in general. So you go to The Depths and on the little raised pathway to a central lightroot are several Koroks being vague about some problem in the Korok Forest. So you ascend up back onto the surface and are faced with... wrongness.

What you should see (depending on what time of day you get there) is shining greens, yellows, pinks, and more colors of a welcoming and safe respite. Instead, you're faced with an eerie stillness and malicious magentas. Towering over this scene is The Great Deku Tree, Protector of the Korok Forest. Except his mouth is hung open and it is clear he is not well. You approach him, quickly noting that the Master Sword is nowhere to be seen, and talk to the first Korok you come across.

To you they say "..." as they stand perfectly still, staring at the ground. The textbox doesn't even display their name.

This is the crowning moment of this horror show. The Koroks are a relative unknown, yet are quite simple. They're childlike, whimsical forest spirits that are always full of energy and enthusiasm. They are pure, innocent, yet mysteriously magical. Most don't even know they exist, let alone interact with them. Yet, here they are, in the place where logic would dictate that they are the safest, lifeless. They are spirits that have been robbed of their spirit, their identities too if the lack of names are anything to go by. And then you go to the Deku Tree himself and he can't even notice you, only groan about a pain in his stomach.

Now this is upsetting in many ways. The Calamity was powerful to be sure, but no Malice ever invaded the forest. Even the monsters that were there seemed to be either naturally occurring or only existed because the forest willed it. But now, not only had Ganondorf's power corrupted the protective fog of the Lost Woods, it infected a near godlike being. It smothered the very essence of the Koroks.

In BotW, the Korok Forest felt more than any other location like a safe haven. Untouched and safe from the dormant power of the Calamity. After all, where else would Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword itself, know it would be safe enough to recuperate for an entire century? But now, in TotK, it has been completely and thoroughly infected by Ganondorf's magic. It feels more than just wrong, it feels heretical, sacrilegious, criminal.

I can only liken this shift in tone to WW2 stories where Allied forces come across a concentration camp for the first time. You've already seen so much, been through so much, but this? This is different. The profound sense of "this shouldn't be this way" is gut-wrenching. Yet it motivates you to stay and fix it like no other quest in any game I've played. No matter how much you hate The Depths, no matter how difficult you find the Gloom Hands, no matter how under-prepared you are for a Phantom Ganon fight, you want desperately to stay until you do it. Not because the payoff might be huge, not because it's required for the plot. But because you just can't not.

At least, that's how I experienced it.