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arcielee · 11 months ago

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sinful

Summary: Lucifer shows you what Adam is lacking. Paring: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Word Count: 2k+ Warnings: 18+, Reader AFAB, sexual discomfort hinted, sexual inexperience, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, cunnilingus from the leader of all demons, and also Bible verses being used to create sexual tension?? Author's Note: Well, I have fallen headfirst into the Hellaverse and needed to get this smut out of my system. Bible verses being used are 1 Corinthians 9-10 & Galatians 5:17. This was inspired by the artwork created by cluffy_25 from IG & TikTok. Maybe now I can finally get some sleep. I hope you enjoy! 😭

On that fateful day of your creation, there was a palpable shift in paradise from the jealousy that was sown into the earth.

Lucifer was first in the shadows, just another specter amongst the watchful wonderment as the rib pulled from Adam was crafted, flesh intricately woven; the sight of you was a holy splendor, surpassing every and any expectation imagined. When it was proclaimed that your image was the likeness of Yahweh, he had scoffed, ignoring the chorus of angels recoiling; the truth–which he spoke out loud–was that your beauty was a novel artistry all its own.

He continued that nothing, that no one, could even compare to you.

It did not help that the praises above echoed this sentiment and further seeded a growing resentment, its envious tendrils wrapping and rotting Eden from within. With it, your novelty was peeled away, but Lucifer remained enraptured with your ethereal grace, with your careful consideration you showed to all living things as you learned your surroundings.

He also saw the covetous gaze cast from the angels and how they poorly masked it with a cold reserve that was met with your every interaction.

Lucifer saw how it began to chip away at the kindness you gave freely. He burned when he saw the hurt that touched your lovely features, he fumed at the sound of your disheartened sigh of acceptance that this was all you could expect from this life given.

Your isolation called to his loneliness, and with Lucifer, you found a kindred spirit. You were grateful with how he returned your genuineness, even finding a sense of comfort, of validation, at the tip of his brazen tongue that did not fear consequence. With him, you found your thoughts could be shared, the ones you carefully clutched to your chest, and would not be met with any judgment–your shy whispers on your divine purpose that came knitted with your existence and the gilded cage that it created.

Though he seemed an empathetic creature, always kind to you, you were also aware of the stories and his lore. You caught a glimpse one day when you let slip the chore required of you to lay with Adam, a duty you tried to complete quickly and quietly when he demanded.

The air around you thickened, and you saw the demon that thrummed beneath the surface: the flash of red in his eyes, the heat from the flame on his furrowed brow. Something powerful, something dire that came and went with your heartbeat.

This was an intimate subject that Lucifer always precariously balanced on the precipice of, always alluring to something unknown by you. He hinted at the shrine you possessed, giving you just a taste of something sinful, of something more that was within your reach. He spoke of pleasure that could be found, but when you mentioned this to Adam, he only sneered.

For man did not come from woman, but woman from man; neither was man created for woman, but woman for man.

“But do you ever wish for more?”

It was another day in the garden. Adam had been swept away by the angels who remained in awe of the First Man, but this never bothered you. You welcomed the reprieve, slipping away to return to the natural arbor by the river weaving through the oasis.

Here the branches curled overhead, light streaking through and the leaves blanketing the ground. Your legs were stretched to feel the sun that fell through, allowing Lucifer to lay his head on your plush thighs. His eyes were watching you, waiting for your response to his question.

Your lips pursed. “I already have all that I could ever need.” You were careful with your words, your fingers moving to comb through his golden hair.

He hummed with your touch. “I did not say need,” his eyes were still trained to you, an upwards curl to his lips. “I asked if you wished for something more, for something else.”

“What else could I possibly want?” Your brow quirked. It was part question, part curiosity. The fallen angel seemed to speak in riddles.

His eyes glittered. “Free will.”

“But I have free will.”

“Free will allows you choices all your own,” he argued, still smiling. “Would you have chosen Adam if you had not been given to him?”

Lucifer grinned as he watched his words catch in your throat. It was another intrusive thought he always seemed to uncover, pulling to the surface. Your blood stained the apples of your cheeks and your tongue wet your lips.

“Adam,” you began, pulling your hands away and placing them at your sides, “was created in the likeness of God.” This was the repeated mantra sung from the heavens, words you spoke now without any conviction. “To not choose him would be to not choose the one true…”

But it faded to obscurity once you became aware of his close proximity; he pulled himself upright before facing you, leaning in with his intensive gaze. “Adam is not God, but only a man.” His voice was low, fanning against your cheeks, and your skin flushed hotly with his words.

This was not the first time he reminded you that Adam was just a man, merely created from the dust of the earth. You never defended whenever Lucifer spoke of Adam’s failures, his certainty that Adam did not give this pleasure you deserved.

It was a topic that piqued your interest, but you felt too bashful to continue it before. But now…

“Free will should allow you the option to choose for more,” his honeyed tone continued. “Should you not experience all that this life has to offer?”

For a moment, you could only hear the orchestra life created, the rustle of the leaves with the soft breeze and the water that flowed. You had always thought Lucifer was handsome. There was something captivating about him, and right now, you were entranced with the new emotion that now played in the amber glow of his eyes.

Like what, you dared to whisper, eyes wide.

Lust of the flesh, he replied with an elegant arc to his brow, with an impish curl to his lips.

You felt your skin prickling, something that flitted along the seams of your being before returning to coil in your abdomen. It was something that pulled you to the precarious ledge he seemed perpetually perched on.

And you kissed him.

It was gentle and it was quick, though your heart bruised against your ribs with your bold action. You felt the embarrassment flood your features, but when you tried to pull away, his hand caught the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your nape. His mouth captured yours with vigor and your mind splintered from the softness of his lips, from the warmth of his mouth; a sensation that screamed throughout you, craving for more.

Flesh lusts against the spirit…these are contrary, the one to the other.

He stopped the moment you tensed, pulling back and allowing you a breath. Your lips were swollen and flushed, your eyes glassy as they came to focus on the Prince of Darkness. “This does not have to go further unless you wish it to,” his voice soft with his emphasis.

The choice presented like a thick haze that swirled around you, drawing you towards him again. This pleasure promised trilled your veins, and your hands moved to grasp and pull him closer for another clumsy kiss.

Your body sang from his touch as his fingers skimmed over to grab into your hips, his warmth alighting your every nerve. His mouth moved to your jaw, to the curve of your neck and lower, nipping at your collarbone. You giggled, squirming against him, and his hold moved to cradle your lower back, a guiding press backwards until you were laying on the grass.

“Trust me,” he whispered against your skin, his hot mouth trailing lower.

Lucifer nestled between your thighs, his hands never leaving your body so you were aptly aware of his next movements. His head turned to press a kiss on the inside of your knee, following along with licks and nips of his teeth and tongue, plumes of color following his wake. It was a slow pacing, creeping towards your core, feeling how your blood simmered beneath, your body blossoming with his methodical ministrations.

Your legs widened, welcoming him and his intimate touch. His fingers pressed a v-shape to spread your folds, his exhaling tickling against your cunt, swollen and glossy with your arousal. He moved closer, a tentative touch of his tongue, and you melted against his mouth. He groaned with your taste, briny and begging for more; his hands curled under your thighs, canting your hips to meet with his lips.

It was a sensation that seared through your veins, a bolt straightening your spine. You gasped again, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair to ground yourself as his forked tongue moved with precision and with purpose.

He was mindful of your every sound, your bated breath and your sweet sighs, the mewling noises that spilled like nectar from your lips. He pulled you towards a plateau of pleasure that resonated throughout your core, rattling your bones beneath.

You felt him swell against you, burning between, and your thighs clenched around him. Your chin pressed down to see him, truly for the first time: his horns curling up from his blond hair, the blood-red glow of his eyes pooling onto your skin.

Your mouth fell open, shock and pleasure twisting from your lungs.

Lucifer lifted his head, meeting with your teary gaze, his sharp smile gleaming from your slick. “You may grab onto them, if you need to.” His voice was low, husky.

Your hands trembled to touch and their smooth texture was warm against your palms. You reverberated with his low chuckle as he dipped his head back to the apex of your thighs, his vitality unleashed. He feasted on your essence, and your hands gripped the base of his horns as his forked tongue carved into your sensitive flesh, a pulsing pleasure that poured hotly in your core. You cried out with the prod at your entrance, and he pressed a quick kiss to soothe as his finger curled within you.

“You are doing so well for me,” he crooned as his finger searched, brushing against a spot that brightened your vision, curling your toes. He hummed again, and you felt his satisfaction curling on his lips. “Can you take another one for me?”

Your back arched with his touch; the tandem of his tongue and fingers thrilled you, the pulsing pleasure coiling so tight it was as if your heart was beating outside your body. It unfurled, a blinding light, a sobbed release, this euphoria wrenching the air from your lungs and your muscles contracting around his digits; and Lucifer continued his come hither motion to your completion.

You were eventually brought back to your body, feeling a gentle breeze against the sheen of sweat, the grounding weight pressing to the inside of your thigh. You blinked, seeing Lucifer with his head resting against you, his fingers drawing lazy designs on your skin. His wicked grin was splayed, watching through hooded eyes at the slow rise and fall of your chest as you regained your breath.

You blushed furiously, feeling the dull throb between your thighs, the last remnants of your pleasure he craftily pulled from you. But there was also an ache, a contrast of emotions playing in the haze of your mind: the purpose you were given and this newfound pleasure had.

These are contrary, the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would wish.

The blood drained as you pushed to your elbows, a prickling fear that followed the curve of your spine. You stammered, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. “W-what did you say?”

Lucifer tilted his head, his brow furrowed, confused. “I only said that you were beautiful,” and he pushed up, moving to kiss you, softly, sweetly. “You are beautiful just like this.”

You allowed his kiss to comfort you, rekindling the fire he had found within you, with the sweet taste of your sin on his lips.

arcie's masterlist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer x f!reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x you

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 9 months ago

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Good Omens graphic novel update: March 2024

Happy March. We bumped into the one and only Maggie Service at an event earlier this month, and here she is with some enamel friends of ours:

It turns out, her words, not ours, that they’re not only good for the aesthetic, but handy for covering accidental food stains. Here she is showing off the gorgeous Aziraphale and Crowley pins to the crowd.

Anyway, we have a bumper one for you this month, and an important update on timings. Let’s get to it.

PledgeManager

First of all, we were due to launch the PledgeManager with this month’s update, but there’s a few last minute hurdles we need to get through and so we’re pushing it back a few final weeks just to ensure all the is are dotted, and ts are crossed. We’ll now be launching this on Thursday 18th of April, in the late afternoon UK-time, to ensure that all team hands are on deck for the move into this next phase.

We’ve got a bunch of FAQs ready for the launch, and we’ll have a PledgeManager-specific update to coincide with it going live where we’ll lay out everything as clearly as possible. We appreciate your patience on this.

Rather than hold back the PledgeManager-adjacent information to the new launch date, however, we’ll still share with you some of the new things that will be available!

In terms of new additions: you wanted more ̶d̶u̶c̶k̶s̶ items? You’ve got them! We’ve got two new notebooks: one featuring lots of ineffable artwork from the graphic novel, and one featuring the much-loved ducks.

We’ve also got two new mugs: one for Tadfield visitors, and another for… duck lovers.

We’ve got a big sticker set bringing together lots of the art from this campaign. And, we’ve got a new enamel pin pair: these gorgeous Crowley and Aziraphale wings that together make a little love heart. You can either wear them both, or split them with your own best angel.

These will be available to purchase like the Aziraphale and Crowley pin pairs - not tied to the mystery packs.

Tier updates

While some elements of the campaign are facing delays, other elements are hurtling forward at full velocity. Fans of the very cute, brace yourselves: here is Sarah Graley’s print for the loot box:

We’ve got some more map previews from Julien Labit, capturing Tadfield, heaven, hell, and many, many places in between:

And, we’re excited to unveil Alice Oseman’s Crowley illustrations for Loot Box #1, completing the pair alongside her Aziraphale sketches from when she watched Good Omens years ago:

On the add on front, here’s our Good Omens slipcase that can be added to pledges, to keep your graphic novels nice and ̶a̶c̶c̶u̶r̶a̶t̶e̶ cosy:

We are quite into pins, you may have noticed. Here’s some more that will be available in the mystery packs:

Moving up to the Obsidian levels, here are some of the sample art pieces from William the Antichrist, illustrated by fantasy artist Mike Nash featuring Crawleigh, and the Citroen 2CV. We’re excited to see these new editions come to life:

Evolution of Eden

We thought it would be interesting to show the evolution of the graphic novel itself. We’ve found it glorious watching Colleen’s artwork arrive in each new stage, and so here’s a sample of the stages of Colleen’s first image, in the Garden of Eden, from pencil sketch, through ink, to the finished page:

And another, from its initial concept sketch, through to this celestial delight:

Lots happening, the lay of the year changing a little, but still full to the brim with Good Omens.

Until next time.

#graphic novel #good omens #good omens graphic novel #graphic novel kickstarter #oooh!

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slayfics · 1 year ago

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Ok like imagine if muichiro crow warm up to us like muichiro is wondering where is crow is because like she always with him but found us sleeping in the grass with the crow cuddle to us that would be fucking adorable if that ok with you

Muichiro goes looking for his crow.

"Take this to the master," Muichiro said, holding up his completed letter into the air. After a few moments passed with the letter still between his fingers Muichiro looked over his shoulder.

Usually, his crow was always ready to grab any of his letters and rush off to deliver them. What was going on today?

Muichiro looked around the room but his crow was nowhere to be found.

Hmm...

He stood up and decided to look around, concerned that something may have happened.

"Ginko?" He called, out to his crow around the estate. However, no reply was given back. After searching the house he started to become more concerned.

Muichiro decided to start searching in the courtyard of the mansion for his crow. It was a nice warm day with a cool breeze. Surely a lovely day to be outside so he was hoping to find her here.

A few moments later he spotted you laying down under a tree in the garden. Clearly, passed out as you made no movements as he approached. It was then he noticed what at first he thought was a shadow by your shoulder was actually Ginko sleeping peacefully pressed against your side.

Muichiro couldn't help but smile at the scene. When you first started to befriend him his crow couldn't stand you. Ginko always passed out any insults she could and contradicted you at every turn.

This was a far contrast to those days. He wondered if maybe Ginko had realized how his own demeanor had changed since he had been around you. When he was around you he found himself smiling more and even laughing from time to time.

Perhaps his crow was also starting to enjoy your company or at the very least grateful for the happiness you brought him.

This was such a cute and unique request! Thank you for sending it in! I’m sorry this one is a bit short but I hope you enjoy it regardless! Thank you yet again to the lovely @valartsstuff for allowing me to use more of her artwork! Please please check out her adorable stuff if you haven’t yet!

Tagging those that asked~

@plvuii @aeolia18 @muichirouswife @yandere-kou

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elainweekofficial · 1 month ago

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𐂂 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿⋆⁺₊⋆ ᡣ𐭩

D E A R D R E A M E R S

We are so overly excited to celebrate and appreciate our lovely Seer March 30th - April 5th! We so very much enjoyed all of the love and support during our announcement week, and all of the love showered upon our absolutely incredible artists—we cannot thank you all enough for helping us foster a community within this space. This post serves as a compilation of all that we have posted this last week for a quick resource for anyone. If any additional information is needed, please do not hesitate to reach out to us 🌷

ANNOUNCEMENT POST

RULES and GUIDELINES

GARDEN INVITATION

ARTWORK CREDIT — hyo.oyy

For those individuals who may want to share across multiple platforms, please be sure to find us on Instagram! A reminder that we are not able to access our messages on Tumblr, so the best way to contact us is either through our ask box, or through messaging on Instagram!

During our initial announcement post, we said that we will be partnering with @/novelwicks during Elain Week and that is true! For anyone who completed the word search, you will receive a little treat from us in your inbox at the beginning of the event, and anyone who participates in the event will receive a treat at the close of the event! More details, guidelines, and such will be posted closer to the start of Elain Week. Stay tuned 💕

#elain week #elain week 2025 #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro elain #elain acotar #acotar #acotar events #acotar fandom #acotar fandom events #elain archeron fanart #acotar fanart #sarah j maas #sjm

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servantserah · 5 months ago

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✨ A guide to my Good Omens comics, fics and AUs ✨

Finally a new, reworked version! I've tried to compile this list with all my comics, AUs, fanfictions etc with links and tags to help everyone navigate them better! Please let me know if there are any questions or you'd like me to add/change something!

👇👇 Click "read more" to get to the full list! 👇👇

Please note that this list only includes AUs and works that consist of several parts/are a series; one shot comics are not listed here.

All of these works can also be found on my instagram, some of them on Twitter/X under the same tags.

🌱 Myosotis 🌱

Main comic (completed):

Myosotis is a flower, also known as ‘Forget-me-not’. It symbolizes faithful love and memories. According to a German legend, God forgot naming this flower and said “I forgot you once, I shall never forget you again.” This comic takes place one year after the events of Good Omens season 1. Crowley and Aziraphale have lost all their memories about each other. They meet again, thinking the other is human and feeling drawn towards each other, they soon develop a strong connection.

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #myosotisAU

Myosotis: Falter (completed):

This mini comic takes place 3 years after the conclusion of the Myosotis comic. Crowley and Aziraphale spend a rainy night at home when they get an unexpected visitor.

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #myosotis falter

So, you stopped Armageddon! ...Now what? (completed)

This fanfiction takes place after the final scene of season 1. Crowley and Aziraphale celebrate their newfound freedom and Crowley wonders if and how things between him and the angel were going to change. And what should they do now that they’ve retired? So many doors have opened before them all at once, it’s a little overwhelming.

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #SYSA! ...NW?

Crêpes (onging)

This comic takes place after the events of Good Omens season 2 and shows how Crowley deals with Aziraphale leaving.

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #Good Omens crepes

⚜️ GoodGardenerAU (ggAU for short) ⚜️

In this AU Warlock actually is the Antichrist and his demonic Nanny Lilith 'Ash' Ashtoreth has been tasked to take care of him and ensure he brings upon Armageddon. What happens when the Antichrist's nanny is actually a terrible demon who doesn't want Armageddon to happen, who forms deep friendships with the other humans at the ambassador's estate and, worst of all, falls in love with the human gardener? This AU isn't one consistent long comic, but a collection of several shorter comics, fanfictions and artworks. They are listed chronologically below.

Tag: #GoodGardenerAU

Lilium (completed):

This comic tells the story of how Ash became Warlock's nanny.

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #ggAULilium

Three Months (ongoing):

This fanfiction takes places immediately after the events of Lilium and is a glimpse into Ash's first three months living at the Dowling estate. It showcases their mental struggles and how they eventually let down their walls to befriend some of their new colleagues (among them the estate's gardener) and start their process of healing from millennia of trauma.

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #ggAU three months

Why It Doesn't Snow (completed)

A mini comic where Ash and Francis uncover the mystery of why it has stopped snowing in the area ever since Warlock’s birth.

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #ggAUsnow

Ineffable Uncles (completed)

This comic is part of the Good Omens/ggAU Multiverse. Aziraphale and Crowley offer to watch over their AU niece Eden (Francis and Ash's daughter) for a weekened. What could go wrong?

➡️ Start reading ⬅️ | Tag: #ggAUineffableUncles

ggAU Skyrim AU

An AU of my AU? Yes, sue me. This is a The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim AU for my GoodGardenerAU. It takes place in the world and rough timeline of the game. Ash is a Dunmer working at Braidwood Inn in Kynesgrove who seems to live a second, secret life in the shadows. Francis is a Nord working at Hollyfrost farm outside of Windhelm. Warlock is the Nord son of two busy trades people at Windhelm. Ash has been babysitting him since he was young. He is a normal boy who just so happens to have a special soul residing within him.

Tags: #ggAUSkyrim

These are AUs that exist but I sadly don't draw very often.

📚 Untitled Ineffable Wives AU 📚

This AU is still in progress! Aziraphale is a human working at her family's bookstore, while Crowley is a naga stranded in the human world. I won't give more details until I have it all more refined. They're very much lesbians in this.

Tag: #untitled wives au

🧙🏼‍♂️ Ineffable Hobbit AU 🧙🏼‍♂️

An AU that takes place in Tolkien's Middle Earth, set primarily during the events of The Hobbit movies. Aziraphale Bilbo Baggins lives a quiet but peaceful life in The Shire until a wizard and thirteen dwarves drag him into an adventure to reclaim the dwarven mountain kingdom of Erebor from the terrible dragon Smaugley…. Only that Smaugley doesn’t seem all that terrible.

Tag: #IneffableHobbitAU

#serahtalks #serahsart #good omens au #myosotisau #myosotis falter #goodgardenerau #ggau #ggAULilium #ggAU Three Months #ggAUineffableUncles #ggAUSkyrim #ggAUsnow #SYSA! ...NW?#IneffableHobbitAU #untitled wives au #good omens

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esther-dot · 1 year ago

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Pride & Prejudice AUs

You Look Like A Movie, You Sound Like A Song 2k @jonsastan

She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.

A Certain Step Toward Falling in Love 2k by @comma-splice

Jon Snow returns North after departing abruptly one year ago.

The Bennet Sisters - a P&P AU comic by @melinaillustrations

P&P Gifset by @sardoniyx, P&P Gifset by @dcbicki, P&P Gifset by deactivated

Persuasion AUs

Who Loves Longest, Who loves Best 1k by @ladysaruka

After refusing him years ago, Sansa sees her cousin once again.

Persuasion edits one, two , three by @glueck

Mansfield Park AUs

Half Agony, Half Hope 10k, incomplete by @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

After the death of his disgraced mother, Jon Snow is taken in by his uncle's family, the Starks of Winterfell. He grows up alongside his cousins, including the beautiful and kind-hearted Sansa, but knowing he can never truly be their equal, he fears he has little choice but to leave the place he's come to call home. corresponding moodboard

Catch Me If You Can 34k (P&P and Emma inspired too) by @ben-barnes-is-my-husband

Set in the countryside of Regency England, Jon Snow has been in love with Sansa Stark for as long as he can remember. He wants her as his wife, but Sansa is not sure she wants to be a wife at all, and she knows she doesn’t want to marry the pragmatic and boring Jon. She’d rather help Theon Greyjoy come out of his shell and play matchmaker. But then Jaime Lannister comes to town and Jon finds he has some serious competition for Sansa…

Moments Like This (So Few and Far Between) 3k by @lydiamartenism

Mama and Papa left the house to go pick up Jon, the son of her father’s oldest friend. Three weeks ago, the phone rang and their parent’s announced that Jon would be coming to live with them since his mother passed away and had no one else to take care of him.

Northanger Abbey AUs

The Lady in White 7k by @kissed-by-circe

Dragonstone Manor had looked like it had woken only a few days earlier, after a slumber of several years, if not decades, and Sansa had felt like the heroine of a gothic novel, a mysterious, naive girl with a dark past or a dark secret, arriving at the opening scene of the most dramatic story of all times. Or Sansa as Katherine Morland in a Jane Eyre Setting.

Sense & Sensibility AUs

In Such Jocund Company 2k @maybetwice

It would be no matter at all for Captain Snow to return to the north after seven months’ absence, had Sansa’s heart not changed entirely in that time. A remix of Colonel Brandon and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility.

Emma & Clueless AUs

if i loved you less 2k by @ladystarks

Her father has, often and fondly, told Sansa that she and Mr. Snow bite at each other like wolves, but he hardly understood that their verbal sparring was as exhilarating as a sport well done, or a match coming together under Sansa’s skilled hands. corresponding artwork

Sansa: A NOVEL in Five Parts 15k by @imagineagreatadventure

Sansa Stark, handsome, clever, rich, hopes to establish herself as her town's foremost matchmaker. After seeing her governess Miss Shae married to the rich and clever Mr. Tyrion Lannister, she feels as though she deserves that title. Her dear friend and cousin, Jon Targaryen, heartily disagrees and is quite proven right when Sansa sets her sights on marrying off her newest and dearest friend Jeyne Poole to the vicar Mr. Baelish.

A Baldwin and a Betty 2k

Jon drives to the Valley to give Sansa a ride home.

Emma AU art by @dcvahkiin and Clueless art by wolvesofspring

Emma Gifset by @dcbicki

General Regency AUs

No Notion of Loving by Halves 2k @darkmagyk

The Stark cousin, Jon, goes home to discuss matters concerning the entail on Winterfell. In which Jon is a really good guy, and I flagrantly disregard how entails actually work.

Manners and Misunderstandings 114k, WIP by @x-winging-it

The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls. Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage. When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.

You Could Draw Me to the Gallows 2k by @azulaahai

After having eloped from home with and subsequently been abandoned by wealthy heir Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa Stark refuses to come home. Having caused a scandal that is sure to prevent her from ever marrying, she is adamant not to bring further shame to the family name by returning to Winterfell. Until, that is, a visitor comes to her - Jon Snow, an old family friend, determined to bring Sansa with him back north. He has a solution to offer her - a proposal with the potential to change both of their lives.

A Perilous Dance Indeed & fiercely, tenderly and eternally 27k by @amymel86

He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it. *** Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.

Waiting for Your Slippered Feet 49k by @wintry-ritu

Lady Sansa Stark has always looked forward to her come-out season in London, the balls, the rides in Hyde Park, evenings at Vauxhall, the romance and wonder of it all. Never had she imagined that it would happen like this, with her parents gone and her younger siblings underfoot. Now, all Sansa wants is for it all to be over quickly so she can get back to Winterfell. She needs a kind, amiable man who will be brave enough to take on his wife's siblings. That should not be so hard to find in London, should it? And while she is most grateful for Jon Targaryen's help, why must her cousin be so distracting?

To Make You Love Me 16k incomplete and orphaned

When Ned Stark dies, he leaves behind his wife, two daughters, and his family’s estate at Winterfell. What follows is a series of unwanted marriage proposals, houseguests who far outstay their welcome, and Arya parading around in a comically large hat and an oil-paint mustache as she declares herself the new ‘Lord of Winterfell,’ in an attempt to dissuade her sister’s suitors. However, when Mr. Jon Snow — their distant cousin and Ned’s appointed heir to the estate — comes to call, an oil-paint mustache is hardly enough to deter him from courting Miss Sansa Stark. And she thinks, perhaps, that a man could marry her for love more than her claim, after all.

Mine for a Season 101k by @vivilove-jonsa

Colonel Jon Targaryen is a single man in possession of a good fortune who claims no interest in finding himself a wife. With his war wounds, he thinks no young lady would want him anyway for anything beyond the allure of his pocketbook. Fortunately and unbeknownst to him, Fate has chosen to find a wife for him and will even deliver her right to his doorstep. Taking on the responsibility of shepherding a young lady about for a Season in London is not at all what Jon had wished to do but he had accepted out of a sense of familial duty. However, once he meets Sansa again after only having met her years ago as a child, he may not consider it a duty so much as a torment.

a lady of winterfell 185k, WIP by @wandering-scavenger

She bit her lip and exhaled shakily, “If you are so sickened by the prospect of marrying me, we should be able to obtain an annulment easily enough with your father’s connections.” “I will do no such thing.” he snapped, refusing to look at her. Sansa had never felt more rejected than she did at that moment. Her past experiences of being humiliated at the hand of Joffrey did not feel as painful as this. Even so, she could not allow him to see the weakness in her, not now. “I will not be left out, Jon.” she said, tilting her chin up to look down at him. He grimaced. They were silent for longer than she cared to count, but each second that he did not speak chipped away at her resolve and her ability to withhold her tears. Jon did not want her, and she could not blame him. Who could ever want her? It should not have distressed her as much as it did. She was never his favourite sister, she who treated him as a stranger since she was old enough to understand what a bastard was. A tear slipped down to her face until she tasted the salt of it on her lips. “If we marry, we will remain so.” corresponding gifset

moth's wings 47k by @cellsshapedlikestars

Sansa was determined to convince her aunt to let Arya debut, which is how she finds herself in her current predicament. “Who is this secret gentleman who has asked for your hand?” Aunt Lysa asks, and Sansa knows from her tone that she does not believe. (She has every right not to believe, for it is not true.) And then Sansa does something very, very foolish. She says a name. “The Duke of Dragonstone!” Or, Sansa fakes an engagement so that Arya can debut and marry the man she loves. The only problem? Her fake fiance just so happens to be in the city when he was not supposed to be.

An Understanding 2k, WIP by @thewolvescalledmehome

At the start of Sansa Stark's third London Season, she decides it will be her last. She will secure a husband by the end of the final ball. Jon Snow is new to the London Season and high society. He never expected to inherit money or property from an unknown uncle. When they meet at a ball, Sansa gets an idea.

you're in my blood like holy wine 72k

Sansa finds it difficult to look at Jon’s face, with its weathered lines and cragginess. It is the face of the North and a face that northerners trust; the face of Sansa’s brothers and her father, who had been loved and respected by their tenants as their forefathers had been when they were kings. How can Sansa feel anything but resentment, looking into that face and knowing that all of her years of hard work will never earn her the respect that that profile engenders within seconds? But she does. It is a small, burning coal of something that must be smothered.

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON

#jonsa #jonsa fic #regency au #pride and prejudice au #emma au #northanger abbey au #mansfield park au #persuasion au #dot fic list #marriage of convenience au #arranged marriage au

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vashvenus · 1 year ago

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★ミ serpentine.

synopsis: naga knives has a sort of morbid fascination with you than manifests in a strangely sexual manner.

contains: naga/serpent knives, knives’ taxidermy hobby is mentioned, sort of medical? but he’s just exploring and weird, dubcon i think?, he has two weewees, and afab reader. 3.5k words.

note: teehee!! this is a (late) christmas present for my BEST FRIEND!! my cool, adorable, and wonderful bff @knivesbunny <33 hehehe enjoy bee + everyone else!!

it was about time you moved on in the world. getting a fresh start in the form of a cozy cabin at the edge of the woods sung your name and the price point was staggeringly low so, after confirming there were no safety hazards, you took the place. with dark wood and muted tones alongside a beautifully kept garden by the previous owners, how could you possibly go wrong? well, ‘wrong’ is an arbitrary term and ultimately up to the individual for judgement.

your moving process went without a hitch. furniture and belongings all being placed properly following a good deep clean plus a couple coats of paint, things any place would need upon a new owner arriving. you'd been rather happy at the final product, something dreary at first taking the form of your own home; a fond word. trinkets, cupboards of dishes, and an amalgamation of photos and artworks lining the walls to create an atmosphere you almost wished you could share but, alas, a solitary life was your preference.

the garden out back was complete with a greenhouse tucked to the side, surrounded by an abundance of flora and fauna that also colourfully dotted the rest of the greenery. small plots had been sectioned out for different fruits and herbs and the idea of being able to grow a large quantity of your own food was an exciting new feeling, one that you couldn't wait to grasp. thusly, it wasn't long until you found yourself kneeling in the grass and working new seeds into the dirt. a variety of the basics alongside some of your favourites was the route of action, one also deemed reasonable. between fondly nestling new seeds and sipping at cool beverages, the thought of the greenhouse slowly slipped your mind despite how vital it was to your task. swiping the gathered sweat from your forehead, you rose up to analyze your progress to which brought your eyes back to that small addition cozied up to the side of the property. the bags of dirt and tools resting on the ground would need a place to go after all... so, you wandered over to that little building and fiddled with the door.

the wooden door was slightly overgrown and gave you a good fight to open, weeds and rust seemingly actively working to keep you out of the space. stepping back, you looked it over a bit more, not wanting any splinters, before pressing your shoulder into it for added force. with a combined 'bang' and 'groan,' the door scraped across the inner concrete floor before coming to a stop about three quarters open. you huffed and slipped in, cursing the rotten chunk of wood and attempting to get a good look at what you were working with. eyes glazing over various rickety shelves, a sharp and icy chill rolled down your spine. a small nagging voice in the back of your head whispered ‘something isn’t right,’ in response to the unusual, for lack of better words, appearance of the inside.

atop aforementioned delicate shelves lay different jars full of an indistinguishable liquid and what appeared to be organs, small ones so hopefully not human, as well as a range of entire animals fully submerged in their own watery tombs. wind chimes made of bones twinkled from the ceiling above firmly locked chests and you weren’t totally sure you were interested in the contents. the previous owners, an old couple, didn’t seem like the type to hoard such morbid trinkets but sometimes it’s the most innocent ones, you figure. still, the lingering idea of this being the work of some beast that had chased them away from their lovely home rattled at the back of your mind ominously. shifting on shaky knees and feet, you contemplated poking around a bit but rationality told you to at least find a sturdy pair of gloves first. though, as it would seem, the choice wasn’t yours to make judging by that same yet more aggressive scraping and slamming door.

whipping around, you came face to face with… a man? one with frosty eyes, near white hair, and a scowl that could skin you alive. more importantly, he was hanging from the ceiling of the small shed you were now trapped in; stuck. with him. this… not quite man, if your judgment of his long serpentine looking lower half meant anything. all wide eyes and dry mouth, you gaped helplessly at him, attempting to find some sort of explanation for what exactly you’re doing, as if this isn’t your property he’s on. his eyes turned to slits seeing you fumble for words and, with an amount of grace that shouldn’t be possible, he slithered off the ceiling to instead… stand? lay? rest? you’re not too sure but he’s in front of you now right side up. pupils merely scratches inside his powdery blue eyes, you fear he’s deciding if you’ll make a good meal and you’ve half the mind to assure him you’re not as tasty as he may think. alas, he speaks before you get the chance.

“name,” it’s a simple but firm commanding question you weren’t quite expecting but, to be real, what were you expecting from an interaction with a snake man? you stutter out a whimper of a reply and he clicks his tongue; it’s forked, you note. with all confidence you can muster, not much, you promptly for his own. he hums low. “millions knives. shorten it to knives at most. don’t dare to give me any sort of nickname, as you humans often do; it’s abhorrent,” and you’re shocked he’s so eloquently spoken. perhaps there’s snake people schools you aren’t aware of?

“right. noted, millions knives,” you hesitate, not keen on irritating him further, as clearly just your presence has perturbed him, “i… apologize if i’ve intruded but… this is my property after all. some sort of explanation on your,” you gesture widely at the space, “hobby would be appreciated.” your poor attempt at mimicking his speech pattern has him letting out a chuckle that sounds more like an array of chitters. palms sweaty and desperately avoiding eye contact, you gulp hoping he’ll entertain your question before potentially swallowing you whole; snakes can do that. his tail flicks your shin jolting you to bring your eyes back to his, admittedly handsome, face.

“my… hobby, hm? it’s nothing to you,” a disappointing response, “were you hoping i’d have a jar your size, little human?” you’re positive he’s making fun of your fear yet somehow his words feel flirtatious in a way that has your brain swinging like a pendulum between crying out of petrification and placing a hand on his built chest. “i’ve been watching you for some time now. you’re utterly,” his tail wiggles up to grip your waist, “fascinating. a perfect experiment.” if he didn’t sound like he was flirting before, he sure does now.

his words were true to an extent beyond your knowledge. ever since the first tour you took of the place, he had kept an eye on your every move. knives hadn’t found an ounce of appeal in new people moving into the small home but, if he had it his way, it would turn abandoned for him to find sanctuary in. alas, the housing market wasn’t on his side as people inspected the place top to bottom and he was stuck merely seething beyond view; that was until you came along. all bright smiles and eager nods, he was beyond irritated with the way he found you undeniably irresistible. something so... keen would make a lovely study after all, he thought, though destroying you utterly and completely was off the table for he'd never be able to poke and prod at you after that. unfortunately, in the time it took for him to mull over a game plan, your first visit was over and he slithered back into the thick woods while scowling; unfair. the jump knives felt in his heart upon your second visit was one that caught even him off-guard, an emotion towards humans beyond that of revolt? unheard of and vile. yet, he was the one who had it and couldn't simply deny that he was feeling something beyond curiosity. your scent, perhaps? he muses over a handful of biologically reasonable conclusions for his reaction to a distantly nodding vash whos already figured out the truth. he saves it though, as to not have his other arm lobbed off, and instead hums along agreeing to every point with faint amusement.

it's with thoughts racing past at speeds no human could match, that knives brings himself back to the present, large palms and boney fingers coming to trail your jaw. another flick of his tongue appears between the grin now forming along his pink lips and impossibly long teeth; even a playful nip would draw extensive blood. he makes a sound between a hiss and growl as one sharp nail trails along your neck down to your sternum slowly, as if assessing a piece of meat; perhaps, in a way, he was. silvery tail wrapping around your left ankle, he tugs your leg up with his head dipping to peer curiously at the limb. you can't really blame him considering legs are the only human trait he lacks but the unsettling nature still makes you shiver. knives takes turns with each of your legs and arms, taking them in at all angles and seemingly pleased with what he was seeing. sure, he wasn't fond of humans at all but, he can appreciate when one is well made; easy on the eyes. a slightly morbid fascination, maybe. finally letting you go from his clawed grasp, he nods, satisfied.

"alluring. remove these pesky clothes," he scrunches up his nose while pinching the fabric of your shirt, "and seat yourself atop that cabinet." his gaze never once easing up, you're between bolting or following his instructions. the former would rely on you being stronger and faster than the behemoth of a man-snake standing directly in front of the door and you're positive you'd be dead two steps in. with trembling fingers, you pull the dirt dusted shirt from your body and shiver at cool air ghosting across your bare chest, only held back by the simple bra clinging to your breasts. you swallow thickly before shimmying off your denim shorts past your thighs and awkwardly down your feet. having not removed your socks or shoes, it was quite the task, but potential tetanus from the rickety floors wasn’t on the menu today. knives found amusement in your struggle, if the chittering in front of you meant anything though, in truth, he was rather charmed. such clumsy behaviour almost reminded him of a newborn bunny. face flushed, you finally unclasp your bra and slip off your panties with no more grace than your shorts had been discarded with, before perching yourself on the cabinet knives had dully gestured to.

“is this… is this good?” the words slide past your lips before you let them, sounding too pleading for your liking but knives seemed to enjoy that despite a hum being all he offered in return. his strong chest was quickly in front of your eyes, curse his fast snake body, while his hands found purchase on your legs again. with one palm on each of your knees, he gently eased them open, nearly purring at the sight.

“you’re something of a gem, hm?” his voice was low, hands inching up your thighs with sharp nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “how very kind of you to welcome me with such a,” the forked tongue of his makes a third appearance, “wonderfully prepared gift? such a lovely homeowner…” though sarcastically sweet in tone, his words did nothing but shoot directly between your legs. “i’ve got a keen nose, little rabbit, are you enjoying being my area of study?” his gaze was hard as he looked at you down his nose and from between long lashes. “your most intimate nodes are crying out ‘yes’.” he presses against your folds to spread them with feather light fingertips, much like one would a dissection. spreading you softly, his head tilts to one side while his eyes seem to slowly drag up and down the weeping slit of yours he's not fully exposed. knives wedges himself fully between both of your legs as to not allow you to close them and his other hand joins in on the fun, prodding softly at your entrance. he seems to revel in the small whimpers you make, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes from a mixture of desperation and humiliation at letting him do such to you so easily.

employing a sort of gentleness and patience you didn't think he had, knives slowly eases in one of his fingers down to the second knuckle before pulling it out with a wet 'schlick' to wrap his mouth around it. the taste seemed to please him based on his own moan and he returned to his previous ministrations, softly thrusting the finger in and out of you. with the hand that had been used to spread you, he smoothly switched to rolling gentle circles over your clit, eyes still fixed firmly on watching the way your body reacts. a second finger accompanies the first in its delicate rock, encouraging more of the sweet sticky essence of you to drool out and across his hands. panting and whining, you buck pathetically into his hands with closed eyes and red bitten lips; you miss the way he slides to his knees. for a man so large he is more than quiet, something you can't match with the harsh suckling on your clit coaxing loud cries from you. his mouth curls the slightest bit with a smug smile and you can feel it past the swirling of his tongue and sharp incisors teasing your skin. briefly, you hope he won't bite. the soft plunging motions of his fingers turns harsh alongside the movements of his mouth. he seems eager to have you unravel on his face and, despite your own tattered pride, you can't stave off the shuddering of the orgasm that washes over in the most intense waves you've ever felt. embarrassingly loud slurps echo around the small shed as knives continues his own motions with glee. it's only when you gently push at his forehead that he shifts backwards and up, allowing you some reprieve from what he had just done. you're breathless, to say the least, having been made to come so shamefully on the handsome mouth and hands of this stranger but somehow you don't feel as though you were the only one who had fun despite his firm acclaims of experimentation.

you're struggling to regain your breath while knives looks you over with thinly veiled lust, you figure teasing him for it wouldn't go well so you restrain despite the thick atmosphere begging for some reprieve. while still gasping for air and shaking the post-orgasm fog from your head, he's pushing you down with his body weight and adjusting the way you lay across the cabinet to his personal preference; legs bent around his waist and hand beside your head. with hazy eyes, you look down to catch the way not one but two thick cocks slide out from the slit they had previously been held in. hanging heavy but curved up slightly, thick arousal is pooling at the tips and you think you can see ridges along the base of each. your jaw is slack as knives lets out another one of those chittery laughs.

"scared, bunny? no need, i'll make it work," his smarmy expression is nearly enough to have you shooting something snide back but he's lining up the tip of the lower cock and sinking himself in faster than you can think. "let go of any premonitions, this will be mutually beneficial."

if you could have any thoughts, they'd be nothing more than slurred curses but with the thickness and impossible length occupying and stretching your insides, you're rendered incapable. he's slow enough to give you some time to adjust but still fast enough that your body can't quite keep up with what he's giving; a pleasurable form of purgatory. knives allows his hands to wander your body, one coming to grip and gather your wrists to now rest above your head while the other fondles your breasts harshly. he's grabbing you in a way that feels inexperienced and almost charming though the harsh penetration is tearing you away from the idea. knives trails his hand from your breasts, to your stomach, and back up to grip your throat as he finally bottoms out inside of your tight heat. the wetness and warmth covering him is seeping out and down his tail to leave a lewd trail of combined juices he briefly admires the shimmer of before he's sliding himself out and roughly back in with a resounding slap. a high and needy sound escapes your throat as the tip of his cock taps your cervix and the rest of it rubs across your walls, eagerly taunting all of what's to come. the hand around your throat compresses your blood flow just enough to have your head feeling like it's full of cotton and your body even more pliant for his use. nails tilt your chin to have you make eye contact with the man currently deep in your guts, a glittering and dangerous grin spread across his face. with your eyes on his, knives begins pounding into you with earnest.

all of the sounds that leave you are high-pitched and warbled with unshed tears borne of the hand around your neck and stretch of your cunt. he's letting out strangled grunts and eager clicks at the grip of your wet pussy trying to milk him dry. his second cock his sliding against your clit and lower stomach with every harsh thrust he gives you, rubbing and pulling pleasurably. all of your nerve endings feel ablaze with the way he's using your body in a way that's filled with determination. his head drops down to make contact with your shoulder, his mouth sliding up your neck to replace his hand and add plentiful marks along the untouched skin; he figures an array of bruises will decorate it better than any necklace. dark indigo and rouge dappling the skin as blood comes to the surface, he's enamoured with how it looks tainting your flesh. both of his hands are now around your hips to hold you still for every pump of his cocks along and into your body, forcing you to take it all in full. you're crying with your back arched and chest forced to the ceiling as he continues his fast pace with teeth grazing your nipples. knives is biting numerous times across your tits, imprints of his fangs left in the wake akin to a path on a trail; he's oddly proud of his work. you're beyond your own body, desperate for him to bring you to a second high of the day, hips trying in vain to undilate against his own but his grip is too firm; his unnaturally strong. tongue flicking at your nipples, one cock deep in your guts, and the other beating against your clit, it's not long before you're babbling useless pleas for him to not stop. through choked sobs and moans, you're falling to pieces with his cock nestled deep inside of you. your brain is blank as lights splatter across your vision, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth. still, his heavy rutting hasn't ceased. every limb of yours is twitching as sobs move past your lips without permission and your hands slide from his grip to claw uselessly at his back from overstimulation until knives is letting out an otherworldly growl as he sinks to the hilt one final time. you can feel the thick ropes of his seed coat your insides as his body curls around you protectively; a mating instinct maybe. he's grumbling lowly as an impossible amount of his spend leaks in and out of you with each twitch of his shaft.

you're still feeling a touch foggy when he pulls out, globs of shared slick pooling beneath you. knives is assessing your form critically, hands and eyes sliding over every bruise and bite left behind from his own roughness. it's almost sweet, how he seems to care for your well being despite his words claiming otherwise, and you simply allow yourself to enjoy the way he's fussing over you. once satisfied, he nods to himself and moves to scoop you up in his arms despite your small whines of protest but your indignation doesn't last long as he slithers you both over to your home, mumbling something about a shared bath; for purely experimental purposes, of course.

#cw: dubcon #trigun x reader #knives x reader #millions knives x reader #trigun maximum x reader #trigun stampede x reader #trigun 98 x reader #trigun smut #millions knives #trigun maximum #trigun stampede #trigun knives #trigun 98

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jessiemeows · 14 days ago

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Midwinter's Eve

A/N: Happy holidays! I wanted to write something about what I imagine Astarion & Amaya's future looks like (plus a little bit of smut :)). I hope you enjoy it! I've only written a little of smut so im not great at it but hopefully its good and I'll eventually get better as I write more of Lost and Found. Also this is spoilery for Lost and Found. Other than that hope everyone had some great holidays and happy new year <3

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F! Redeened Dark Urge Tiefling, My OC Amaya, Selunite Cleric/Paladin

Word Count: 3500

Warning: 18+!!!!! fingering, PIV, cum inside without protection, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of abuse but does not elaborate in any way, Astarion being a tiny tiny smidge dominant but not really

A/N part 2: It's Midwinter Eve! Midwinter is a holiday that's the DND equivalent of Christmas. In the story it has been three years since the Netherbrain fell, Astarion reflects on the past three years of his life with his partner and how good it's truly been (everyone deserves a happy ending, especially our BOY!) Astarion in this story is also now loved and being loved sometimes makes you soft and squishy.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Story:

Astarion gazed out his study window transfixed by the quickening snowfall outside. A faint smile played across his lips as he reflected on the past three years— the defeat of the Netherbrain, Cazador's death that had freed him from centuries of torment, and Bhaal's influence had finally released its grip on his beloved. It had now been three and a half years since that fateful first meeting—gods, he could still picture it perfectly: himself, pulling a knife on her like the desperate, scared fool he was, throwing every defense and bitter barb her way throughout their entire journey, and yet she somehow saw through it all and stayed.

The winter sun dipped below the horizon earlier these days. With a casual flick of his wrist, Astarion cast some fire bolt cantrips, lighting the candles scattered across his desk. Lady Adelia Caldwel's contract lay before him, a mess of legal tangles he'd been asked to untangle. Her husband had sold off their prime Upper City parkland that she loved so dearly, and she desperately hoped for a loophole or a way of breaking the contract—though prospects looked grim. Running fingers through his silver curls, he loosened the gleaming golden cufflinks of his fine black cotton shirt, rolling up the sleeves, and propped his feet up on the desk, balancing the parchment on his lap.

His thoughts drifted treacherously to Cazador, sending an old, familiar chill down his spine. The memories still held power—how small and worthless his former master had made him feel. Though the worst had passed, there had been dark times: panic attacks, violent outbursts, moments when nothing could console him. Amaya, his beloved, understood better than anyone; she still battled her own demons, nightmares of Bhaal haunting her sleep, panic seizing her with fears she might harm him. But they both knew better now. Those fears had no foundation in reality.

After the Netherbrain's fall, they'd ransacked Cazador's palace together, setting it ablaze in a final act of defiance. The old vampire's hoarded wealth had been substantial—enough that, even after Amaya insisted he share it with his six siblings, they'd secured their place in society. Combined with Amaya's status as "The Hero of Baldur's Gate," they'd acquired a small manor just outside the Upper City, complete with a vineyard and garden. It was perfect: Amaya spent her days tending the garden and painting, occasionally dragging him to the Wide to sell their goods or to Lady Jannath's exhibitions to show off her artwork. If not spending most of his time with Amaya, or attending the endless social engagements required to maintain their newfound noble standing - balls, banquets, and the like, Astarion would then spend his days in his study which had become a sanctuary, he managed their estates and helped others navigate legal matters (thanks to his lovely partner's endless bragging of his talent of negotiation to the Baldur’s Gate nobility after he'd helped Wyll escape the now very dead Mizora's contract all those years ago).

They'd risen quickly in these three years to become Lord Ancunín and Lady Othzál—soon to be Lord and Lady Ancunín. Just six months ago, during the bi-annual ‘Heroes' of the Gate’ reunion hosted by the beloved party animal wraith Withers, he had proposed to her in the very spot where they'd first been intimate. Back then, his motives had been purely selfish; this time, he'd wanted to make it special. Her warm embrace, mingled with tears of joy had ruined his brand-new white doublet with black streaks of makeup—something he still teased her about mercilessly.

Though in such little time, life had brought more miracles: first it was the Cloak of Dragomir that they found a little more than two years ago, which let him brave the sunlight again despite some setbacks. Then, just three months ago, they found the Sun-walker's Ring—a simple gold banded ring with a blood-red ruby that allowed him to walk carelessly free in the sun for hours on end. Although, he still keeps his cloak on hand just in case no matter how awful the fabric is. But the greatest miracle had come with the adventure to find the ring: Amaya was with child. His child. They'd discovered it in the Underdark when she kept falling ill, though he should have recognized the signs immediately.

The memory of her first ill-fated pregnancy in the Shadowlands still haunts Astarion’s mind. When Amaya was under Bhaal's influence, she had been frequently sick, but upon entering the cursed lands, her health deteriorated even further, which concerned almost all of their friends. He hadn’t known of the pregnancy until it was lost to an infernal dagger Back then, he'd been conflicted, almost relieved at its loss. He had never actually imagined himself as a father, it was always a foreign, unattainable concept - until now.

The transition back to home life after their recent return from Underdark two months ago has been a little difficult for the couple. Amaya was in her first trimester, she had persistent morning sickness, obscene cravings, and general unease stemming from the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Astarion’s constant stress and worry have made him increasingly overprotective and borderline overbearing.

Things have eased down a bit since the start of the second trimester and Astarion has relaxed more since the constant sickness has stopped. It wasn’t until their latest bi-annual reunion over a ten-day ago, Withers' had given a cryptic hint to the couple when they were alone that still echoed in his mind: their children—plural—were "destined for greatness." Coming from the usually tight-lipped avatar of Jergal, it had been a surprising comfort to both of them, especially given Amaya's fears about bearing a child being both a Bhaalspawn and a dhampir. But Astarion always knew in his heart their child would inherit Amaya's love and gentleness. She was never the person her father made her out to be and since purifying her blood, and the murder whispers had fallen silent he knew from the start their children would not be that way, though the plural "children" in Withers' prophecy still made Astarion's head spin.

Darkness had fallen completely now, the snow and wind picking up outside his window. Sighing, Astarion began tidying his desk—Lady Caldwel's contract would have to wait. Worry gnawed at him; Amaya had gone to the Upper City's Midwinter’s Eve festival with Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae'zel. Last year's memories brought a smile to his face: Lae'zel's newfound obsession with sugar cookies, and his sneak snowball attacks on Shadowheart. Despite Amaya's adorable pouting, he declined today's invitation to finish up some work so he would be free all day tomorrow for Midwinter, though the elf did somewhat wish he had joined the group.

The Midwinter festivities weren't exactly Astarion's cup of tea, Amaya had grown to adore them. This year, the tiefling had truly outdone herself, decking their home with the most beautiful seasonal decorations and carefully selecting thoughtful gifts for all their friends who would be joining them for the celebratory dinner the next evening. Even Minthara will be impressed by Amaya's efforts just like she had the previous Midwinter.

But this year's gathering would be extra special. Not only were Karlach and Wyll back in Baldur's Gate permanently, but Astarion and Amaya also planned to have their pregnancy announcement to everyone. Of course, only a select few already knew— Gale, his fiancée Elysia, Shadowheart, and her partner Kaelum, having accompanied the couple on their journey to find the Sun-walker's ring, and Withers who knew everything. However, the rest of their dinner guests remained blissfully unaware. Astarion was still a bit hesitant to make the announcement, worried that it might be too soon, but Amaya was positively bursting with joy and how could he possibly say no?

Astarion was beginning to get a headache thinking over everything, and his worry began to heighten when heavy winds crashed onto his study’s window. The sound of their heavy front door slamming shut snapped him to attention making his pointed ears twitch. "Oh, thank the gods," he breathed, hurrying toward their drawing room. Shadowheart's and Amaya's soft voices drifted through the halls as he approached silently.

"Are you four months along now?" Shadowheart asked as Amaya shed her heavy winter layers.

"Yes!" Amaya beamed, smoothing her hand over the slight swell of her belly.

"Oh, by the Moonmaiden’s grace, I always knew you'd make the cutest little pregnant lady!" Shadowheart reached out to touch the bump. "Have you been taking those herbs I recommended for nausea? And drinking blood for the little one? It must be strange having to drink blood."

Amaya stifled a laugh. "I'm not too sure it's the strangest thing I've had to drink, Shadowheart."

Before Amaya could continue, Astarion slipped behind the tiefling, wrapping his cold hands around her belly and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Hello, lover," he purred into her ear.

"Can you please do that when I'm not around?" Shadowheart groaned.

"Shush," Astarion smirked. "Don't act like I didn't see you and Kaelum cozying up at the reunion. By the way, do tell them I said hello." His devious smile only widened at Shadowheart's resulting blush. Shadowheart then rolled her eyes at Astarion's teasing, pointedly ignoring him.

Astarion's eyes widened as he surveyed the drawing room floor. "So, are we broke now?" Astarion smirked, eyeing the mountain of shopping bags. "Based on this haul, I can only assume we're destitute."

"Quiet, you," Amaya turned, pressing her lips to his. He chuckled into the kiss, the sound vibrating against her mouth. "And no—everything was on sale!" She swatted his hand away as he reached for one of the mysterious packages.

Their head maid, Dakota, appeared in the doorway, offering to whisk the bags away to "Amaya's special hiding spot"—a location Astarion had long since discovered in the maid's quarters. She offered tea, but Shadowheart declined, casting a worried glance at the darkening sky through the window.

"I should really get going. The storm's picking up, and it's quite a hike to the cottage," Shadowheart said, rising from her seat.

Amaya jumped up to embrace her friend at the doorway. "See you and others tomorrow, then. Don't forget the Midwinter feast starts just before sunset. You and Kaelum are welcome to borrow some of my night clothes, or if Kaelum prefers, they can use Astarion's when you stay the night."

“I did not agree to that!” Astarion protested behind them, but the two ignored him.

"We'll be there and thank you," Shadowheart assured her. "Now rest, please."

"I will. Stay safe—send me a sending spell when you're home."

After Shadowheart's departure, Astarion sprawled across the drawing room couch, arms extended in invitation. Amaya settled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as he asked, "Why does she want you to rest, love?"

"It's nothing, really", Amaya deflected, peppering his cheek with the rapid little kisses she always used when seeking affection. "I just got winded more quickly than usual today. That’s all."

Astarion's brow furrowed and genuine concern colored his voice. "Perhaps we should skip tomorrow's festivities if you're struggling to catch your breath. I don’t want you to over-exert yourself."

Amaya fixed him with her big, brown eyes he never could resist, and a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips."You're just nervous about seeing everyone," she countered, “I know you’re not fond of this holiday but don't try to use me as an excuse."

"No, Amaya, I'm truly worried about the little one." His cool fingers found their way to her gently swollen belly as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

Amaya let out a soft sigh, resting her head on his and running her hands soothingly down his back. "Star, I already got Shadowheart’s second opinion on it and she already said I'd be fine. I just need to rest tonight."

Astarion’s fingers lingered around her belly as he began to fiddle with her loose velvet dress. "If you say so, Mayabear." he said as he groaned of defeat vibrating against her skin.

"I do. Now, I’m feeling peckish, and have you had any blood? It should still be fresh; I can fetch you some from the butcher's box while I make some tea and grab a snack ."

"Haven't had the chance," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "I've been wrestling with Lady Caldwel's contract for hours. I don't even want to think about it anymore."

Amaya's brow furrowed in concern. "I thought you said it would be easy?

Astarion grumbled, "It should be, but her husband is an absolute fool." The tiefling then gently kissed his cheek, saying, "I'm sorry, lovie. Maybe getting some rest will help clear your mind."

Amaya then slipped away to prepare their drinks and herself a small plate of gingersnaps that one of their maids must have prepared before heading home. Returning, she found her vampire with his eyes closed, the picture of contentment. Years ago, he'd never have allowed himself such vulnerability. Reclaiming her rightful place in his lap, her tail wrapped instinctively around his leg as she nestled against him. His fingers found their way into her dark curls, twirling the silky strands absently as he breathed in the familiar scent - his own bergamot, rosemary, and brandy faint on her but mingled with her naturally rich vanilla essence, the delicious aroma of the gingersnap crumbs on her lips and the sweet scent of her blood.

He licked his lips, savoring the memory of the rich, chocolate-like flavor of her blood - so different from the wine-like taste of others. Though the temptation remained constant, he'd been restraining himself lately, knowing their child already drew from her strength.

Taking the chalice of fresh boar's blood, he drank deeply. Their arrangement with the local butcher had proven invaluable, especially now that Amaya required blood for the baby. If the butcher ever grew curious about their frequent deliveries, they could simply blame it on Amaya's peculiar cravings for blood sausage. Usually during the winter months, the deliveries would be twice a week, but with everything going on they had made the decision for deliveries once a day, and generous payment had kept any questions at bay so far.

The peaceful silence stretched between them until Astarion's curiosity got the better of him. "So darling, what did you get me?" he asked, then promptly snatched a bite of one of Amaya's gingersnaps just as she was about to take a taste herself.

"Hey!" Amaya protested, pouting at him. "And what makes you think I got you anything?"

"HA! I know you far too well, my love. And I'd rather not have to sneak into your 'super secret hideout' in Dakota's quarters," he said with a mischievous grin.

"How did you—?" Amaya's eyes widened in dismay.

"Sweetheart, you're terrible at keeping secrets from me. I overheard you discussing it with Dakota during yesterday's tea." His grin widened. "Besides, won't Dakota peek at her own gift?"

"Her gift is hidden elsewhere, thank you very much." the tiefling pouted, avoiding his gaze.

Astarion chuckled a bit while using his free hand to cup her cheek, "Come now, darling, we both know I have ways of discovering these things." He coaxed.

"I know, but sometimes I'd like to keep these particular secrets... secret." Her lower lip trembled slightly, pregnancy hormones amplifying her natural sensitivity.

As she began to pull away, Astarion tightened his hold. "Mayabear, don't be cross. I promise I don't know what you bought—only where you've hidden it." His cool fingers wiped away the tears threatening to fall.

Amaya sighed ”It's ridiculous that I feel like crying over this."

"This crying is perfectly normal, pet. You're experiencing new things." Astarion then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and then to her cheek.

"I know what would make you feel better,” Astarion purred into her ears, his voice was now low and sultry.

Amaya now amused by him now looked up at him.“Oh, really and what is that” the tiefling mumbled.

Astarion gently cupped her face. “May I kiss you a little more? I can more than guarantee it will help with your little poutiness. I know you’ve missed me, and I’ve certainly missed you."

Amaya's gentle nod of approval was all the invitation Astarion needed. He tilted her head back and pressed his lips to hers, his fingers traced delicate patterns along her curves as their kisses deepened. Amaya's fingers tangled in his silver curls, drawing a pleased hum from his throat. His hands now roaming down to squeeze her full ample bottom leaving a soft, breathy moan from Amaya’s parted lips. Astarion could already feel his trousers begin to tighten uncomfortably. Every new curve of hers was driving him mad.

"Would going to the bedroom go against your instructions to rest?" he whispered against her lips, barely breaking their kiss.

At an eager shake of her head, the vampire gently swept her into his arms, carrying her swiftly to their chambers. He deposited her gently on their bed before retrieving an arcane lock scroll from their drawer—they'd learned that lesson after an awkward encounter with a new maid. The quick incantation sealed their privacy, and he returned to Amaya who was leaning against the bed’s headboard.

Astarion crawled close to Amaya, purring, "On your side, facing me darling." She obeyed, and his hungry kisses trailed from her lips down to her neck as his dexterous fingers untied the top drawstrings of the soft velvet dress, carefully lifting the fabric to reveal herself to him.

“Such a good, obedient girl.” He whispered. The sight of her stole his breath—her swollen breasts, the subtle curve of her belly, and the flush spreading across her skin.

"What?" she asked, noticing his intense gaze.

"Nothing," he murmured, his voice low and raspy. "I just think you grow more beautiful every day." With practiced grace, he slid off her lacy undergarments, sliding cold nimble fingers toward her already glistening desire.

“Tsk, tsk, you are already so wet”, he purred into her ear. He propped up her leg on his hip, angling her body to lay on her side more comfortably. Slowly, he began slipping one, then two fingers in and out of her slick, glistening folds at a steady pace, drawing soft yet needy moans from her lips.

Astarion trailed tender kisses lower, his tongue lingering and tracing the delicate curves of her body His fanged teeth accidentally grazing around her pert nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from Amaya. Amaya then cupped his hair between her fingers, arching into his touch. "A-Astarion," she gasped. The vampire began to focus his attention, zeroing in on her sweet spot. "I want you to bite me," she pleaded. "You haven't in so long."

Astarion hesitated, "You know I have my reasons, pet." he murmured, his voice vibrating against her skin. But Amaya's pleading, trembling voice of need was impossible to resist. "Please! And I so desperately want to feel all of you."

Astarion paused briefly, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation. "Well, well you've persuaded me, you cheeky little pup," he growled. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and removed his trousers, only to reveal his aching cock glistening and beaded with precum. Positioning himself on his side at Amaya's entrance, he let out a soft growl as he slowly began to thrust into her welcoming heat.

Astarion's teeth sank into the delicate skin of Amaya's neck, drinking deeply of her rich, sweet life’s nectar as he pounded into her his fingers gripping tighter around her plump bottom. Amaya's muffled cries spurred him on, his pace quickening. Only when he felt himself nearing the edge did Astarion detach his fangs, letting out a stifled moan.

Desperate, he deliberately slowed his movements, savoring each delicious sensation as he remained deeply immersed in her welcoming warmth.

“Fuck, Maya” Astarion finally growled, Amaya's hands roamed avoiding Astarion's scarred back, her nails digging in just above his shoulder blades as their bodies moved together in a shared, building climax. "Astarion!" Amaya cried out, her walls clenching around him as his hips began to stagger losing control, his seed filling her in warm, pulsing waves..

Spent, they clung to each other, Astarion pulling Amaya close to his chest entangled with one another between the silk sheets. Her fingers played with his sweat-dampened curls brushing them back from his forehead—a tender habit that had brought him comfort since their first night together. As sleep began to claim Amaya, Astarion gazed at her drinking in her beauty.

"I really love you, you know that right?" he whispered.

"Of course, love," she smiled drowsily at him. "I hope you know I love you too."

"I'm more than aware." He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

“So, what did you get me for Midwinter?” She asked softly but amusement in her voice.

Astarion chuckled to himself, “You’ll see, now close your eyes.”

Her soft laugh and the gentle tug of her fingers in his hair were the last things he registered before she drifted off and he began to trance, safe in each other's arms forever, for good.

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