#is she truly meant to be corrupted?. does she Want to be??

[hcneymooners]

⋆ you used to be alive, now you're almost mythic.

warlord!ambessa x dragon rider!f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: despite being arranged to marry your brother, ambessa chooses you as the next reigning consort of house medarda. in the wake of her assassination, you begin to unravel.

cw: dark content. please tread carefully. heavy angst, heavily inspired by house of the dragon but still understandable if you haven't watched it, warlord!ambessa, dragon rider!reader, consort!reader, arranged marriage, wife!ambessa, age difference, older woman/younger woman, non-graphic suicide, mental illness, grief, very morally grey characters including reader. notes: i'm in my luteal phase and began to rewatch hotd and this happened. you must suffer with me. i'm returning to my roots (grief and insane family/romantic dynamics). i wanted to explore the effects of ambessa's death on reader and what it means to love someone who is sometimes well-intentioned but almost always corrupted.

୨୧ you meet on a clouded day, you in your house's emerald silks that catch like seafoam in the bitter wind. ambessa towers over everyone else, battle-scarred and beautiful in ways that make your chest ache. she is supposed to wed your brother and you are meant to be afraid—this is the woman who burnt three kingdoms to ash, who feeds her enemies to her dragon. 

୨୧ instead, you find yourself fascinated by her hands, how carefully they hold the marriage contract as she chooses you instead.

୨୧ the rumors spread quickly: the gentle noble daughter and the warlord, what a terrible match. they whisper that she must be cruel to you behind closed doors. 

୨୧ they don't see how she braids your hair each morning, how she teaches you to wield a knife ("don't be stupid, [name]. you know who you've married. you are an easy target. you must not abide."), how she watches you with such careful control when you’re naked before her for the first time.

୨୧ her wedding gift to you is perfect. you and ithoa the dark are evenly matched—the dragon is massive and obsidian-scaled but gentle-hearted, prone to curling around you protectively during storms. ambessa jokes that you've made her soft.

୨୧ you remember your first flight together, how the wind tore the breath from your lungs and ambessa's hands steadied you, warm against your waist. 

୨୧ the first time you saw her truly fight, it was like watching a dance. she moved like water, like shadow, like death itself. afterward, when her enemies lay bleeding into the earth, she looked at you with such fear in her eyes—fear that you would finally see the monster everyone claimed her to be. and she was one, you weren’t blind, but she’s yours.

୨୧ in some ways you are worse than she is.

୨୧ you help clean her of blood and kiss each of her knuckles. you learn fealty tastes of copper and salt.  

୨୧ you wake sometimes to find her watching you in the dark, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin like she's memorizing you. "what are you thinking?" you ask, and she says, "that i never thought i could love something so much. it terrifies me."

୨୧ you understand—love like this is dangerous; it sent half your bloodline mad.  

୨୧ there are nights when the nightmares come, when she thrashes and calls out names of the dead. you learn to weather these storms, to hold her until she remembers where she is. you whisper against her temple, “bessa, come back to me." and she does, she always does.  

୨୧ "my advisors say i've grown weak," ambessa confesses one night, her head in your lap as you card fingers through her silver-streaked hair. "perhaps they are right."

୨୧ you think of how she still trains daily, how her enemies still fear her name, how she commands armies with an iron fist. but is she is weaker. she's learned to love too, to show mercy when warranted. you lie.

୨୧ you tell her, "you've only grown wise," and she kisses your palm like a benediction.  

୨୧ the politics grow more heated. you notice how mel watches her mother with increasing worry, how the peace treaties remain unsigned. you find ambessa in her war room late at night, maps spread before her, and you know what's coming. you love her enough to pretend you don't.

୨୧ you know something is wrong when ithoa screams. it's a sound you've never heard before, something ancient and terrible that makes your bones vibrate. you're running before you can think, your feet carrying you through corridors that seem to stretch endlessly.  

୨୧ you find her in the war room. there's a cup rolled beneath the table, a dark stain spreading across the maps she was studying. she looks peaceful, almost, except for the way her fingers are curled like claws against the floor. someone has closed her eyes. someone has touched her. someone has taken her from you.  

୨୧ your knees crack against the stone as you fall. there's a sound coming from your throat that doesn't sound human, a keening wail that matches ithoa's grief. you gather her into your arms—she's still warm, still soft, still smells like herself. 

୨୧ there is a constant ringing in your head.

୨୧ for one terrible moment, you look at mel standing in the doorway and your mouth forms around the word "dracarys." you feel the heat building in your chest, taste ash on your tongue. ithoa's answering roar shakes the castle foundations. it would be so easy—one word and everything burns.  

୨୧ but your father taught you mercy, didn't he? or maybe your mother did. taught you when to hold and when to release. 

୨୧ your mouth fills with blood from where you've bitten your tongue holding back that deadly word. mel's face is wet with tears as she falls to her knees beside you, reaching for her mother's other hand.  

୨୧ "i'm sorry," she sobs, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry." you want to tell her that sorry isn't enough, that you want to murder her with your own hands—no poison. instead, you keep screaming, high and shrill until your voice breaks, until guards have to pry you away, until they force dreamwine down your throat to quiet you.  

୨୧ the funeral is a blur of red and black, but you wear green still—your final act of defiance, of remaining true to yourself as she always wanted. ithoa's keening echoes across the kingdom, a sound of such profound grief that even the oldest dragons respond. she hasn't eaten since ambessa fell.  

୨୧ when mel approaches, you see the cost written in the shadows under her eyes. she loved ambessa too, in her way, even as she plotted her death. "i understand," you tell her, voice hollow. "it had to be done. she wouldn’t see reason. she was ruining us.”

୨୧ you see how she flinches at your words, how desperately she wants absolution you cannot give.  

୨୧ "you are still my daughter," you add softly, and watch her composure crack. she reaches for you but you step back, the space between you as vast as the void in your chest. “but my blood does not forgive.”

୨୧ you turn back to her before leaving. you say, "learn from your mother. do not apologize for the kill. if they see weakness they will eat you alive. stand on her bones. build on them."

୨୧ you start to forget to eat, to sleep. your ladies whisper concerns about your wandering the castle at night, how you speak to shadows in ambessa's voice. ithoa grows more restless, wilder—they say grief-maddened dragons are dangerous, but you understand her rage. you are two halves of the same coin. 

୨୧ sometimes you wake thinking she's still there, reach for her warmth only to find cold sheets. you wear her old shirts to bed, press your face to the fabric searching for traces of her scent. sometimes you go back to the war room, press your face into the cold spot where her body had rotted, and try to find her.  

୨୧ you only reach her in your dreams.  

୨୧ you sleep in her chambers still, surrounded by her things. sometimes you wake to phantom touches—her hand in your hair, her lips against your shoulder. you find yourself talking to her, telling her about your day as if she's just stepped out for a moment. "you would have laughed," you say to the empty room, "you would have loved this."

୨୧ ithoa refuses to leave the castle grounds, her massive form curled around the tower where you sleep. her grief manifests in physical changes—her scales losing their luster, her eyes clouding over. her handlers whisper that she's dying of heartbreak. you understand—you're dying too, just more slowly.

୨୧ you find yourself holding her things to your chest—her favorite knife, still sharp enough to draw blood when you clutch it too tightly; her riding gloves, worn soft with use; her journal, filled with battle plans and, in the margins, little notes about you.  

୨୧ “[name] wore green again today," she wrote once,  “she is my only redeeming quality.”

୨୧ sometimes, in your last days, you remember that morning in the garden. how the sun caught in her hair, how she looked younger when she smiled. "if i die," she had said, practical even then, "don't follow me too quickly." 

୨୧ you had kissed her quiet, tasting sunshine. "you can't ask that of me," you'd whispered against her mouth. "you've never asked impossible things of me before—don't start now."  

୨୧ she had laughed, then grown serious. "you're the best of me," she said, touching your face with those deadly hands that were only ever gentle with you. "the only good thing i've ever done." you had wanted to argue—she was more than her reputation, more than her wars.  

୨୧ but she kissed you again and you let it go.

୨୧ now, you think she would understand. after all, she never could deny you anything you truly wanted. and this—a reunion, a reclaiming, an ending that is really a beginning—this is all you want.  

୨୧ "fresh air might do you good," your lady's maid suggests, and you smile distantly toward the misty bridge.  

୨୧ "yes," you agree, fingering the vial in your sleeve. "i think i shall walk tomorrow, at dawn."  

୨୧ you don't tell her you've already sent your letters—one to mel (forgiveness, finally, because you know now how duty weighs), one to your house (explanation, though they never understood), one to the maesters (instructions for ithoa's care, though you suspect she'll follow you as dragons sometimes do).  

୨୧ dawn breaks cold and clear. you wear blue, the color of loss in your house, and ambessa's favorite ring. it is heavy and should keep you under the waves. ithoa waits by the bridge, her dark scales catching the first light.  

୨୧ the bridge stretches out before you like a body. ithoa's eyes follow your every movement, understanding in her ancient gaze.

୨୧ you uncork the vial with steady hands. you pray. the poison doesn't taste of anything at all. you think that's funny, somehow—that death should be so subtle when life with her was so vivid.  

୨୧ as your vision starts to blur, you swear you see her standing at the other end of the bridge. she's wearing her armor, but her hair is up the way you always loved it. "little dove," she calls, holding out her hand, “you’re late, and i’ve missed you."

୨୧ they say a dragon's cry can be heard for leagues. they say ithoa's mourning shook the mountains themselves.  

୨୧ they say that when they found you floating in the water, you were smiling and still beautiful, one hand stretched out as if reaching for someone just beyond sight. it almost looked as if you fell, that you’d leaned too far, if not for the vial. they place flowers in your mouth, in the bloated pockets of your waterlogged skin.

୨୧ mel won’t let them burn you. you sink into the earth, and your flesh becomes land. she puts your bones in her mother’s grave but keeps a tooth. it’s diamond, a replacement for one lost to illness, and it sits in the center of her diadem.

୨୧ your last thought, as the world grows soft around the edges, is of ambessa’s hands, how the scars hurt her the most there. the pain was chronic, aggravated by any extensive movement. still, she bent them to hold yours because you were always scared in the beginning.  

୨୧ through the water, the sky seems so wide. you aren’t scared now. you're going home. you're going home. you're going home.  

୨୧ maybe it is not a good place, where you’ll arrive, but it will not matter.

୨୧ the afterlife is white and quiet. it presses against you. you’re slick, weeping, and bare. there’s a birdsong in your head. 

୨୧ you turn, crouched low like a dog, and she’s there.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @sugrcookiiee @icespiceluva  @16novvs @tnash-tammy @dyk3miffy @iwasholic @absandsevikasgirl @blackdykegirlblogger @fortluocha @neganwifey25-blog @rottngrl3 @fruitfulfashion @ambessaswifey

[dirtsoilmulch]

forgot corruption dryad is an actual semi canon thing

either way i hate the design we have n i made a new one

[simpjaes]

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT. 2 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part one | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 21.8k

CONTENT ―  modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS―  jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor 

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring 

NOTE ― you must read part one to understand the story. anyway i did not mean to go in so deep with jungwon, i just really fucking adore him please forgive me. anyway, this is briefly edited. if you see a typo, shhhhhh, i don't wanna know.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him, 

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“My love, let me.” 

You sit up only to be eased back onto the soft mattress. Pillows plush against your head as Sunghoon dabs away at each puncture he’s left on you. 

“You know you can’t sit up so quickly, just rest and let me.” 

You’re littered with his bites by now and you only grow more and more enamored with the feeling of it. Or, perhaps you just enjoy the fact that he’s fixated on drinking from you. Multiple times a day, until your fingers and toes are numb, until you can barely stand without dropping to the floor. 

Enamored through all of it, really. With the way he bites so gently only to suck harder and harder until his fingers grip and pierce through your skin much like his teeth do. He’ll hold you so hard through it, forcing arousal to run through you every single time he goes for that artery in your thigh. You think that’s his favorite spot to bite, if the dozens of wounds there are anything to go by. Truly, you’re enamored with him, always wanting to give him more just so he stays with you longer. 

You seem to have lost yourself in the lust of it all. The fantasy, the desire. On the brink of insanity, you know you’ve grown obsessed with what Sunghoon does to you, and it’s to the point that you don’t question yourself like you normally would. Your desire for this is too strong, far too intimidating to doubt. 

But since that night, he always leaves you with blood against his lips. Aroused, frustrated, confused. Never once letting a hand stray too far, never letting his lips trace anywhere but to your wounds or new expanse of skin that needs to be bitten. 

For days now you’ve been here. You lay here one full day since you were supposed to be back at work too, just waiting for the moment Sunghoon will do more than just drink from you. Mostly for a confirmation. It feels like you’re forcing yourself to go missing for this alone and every night you lie awake in this room waiting, wanting more from him now than you think you ever have.

The room you're in now is lonely, though adorned nearly as beautiful as the one you were in the night Sunghoon stole you away. You know the place you want to be is just down the hall, but your legs won’t carry you there no matter how much you try. He’s rendered you bed ridden and you miss it there, with his silk sheets and candle lit walls. 

Then again, maybe it’s not the room at all that you miss. Maybe it’s just Sunghoon.

You can’t help but note that when he’s on you or next to you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. But when you’re alone, you feel your skin crawl with such immense anxiety that you nearly want to scream out for him to come back. Several times already you have called out for him mere moments after he’s left the room. It gives you hope in knowing that each time, he does return to you even if just for a moment. 

All of it is very arousing when he comes to you, but it’s killing you inside to know that he does nothing more than feed off of you. You get nothing out of it but his presence, and perhaps he expects that to be enough. It’s driving you insane to give everything you have to him so willingly, knowing he hasn’t offered anything back to you. 

The fact that you want this, you want him, and you want to be the only blood he craves? It’s a feeling you’ve had to accept, because trying to deny it at this point would only lead you down a more destructive path. As if the one you’re on now isn’t already killing you, if not physically, emotionally. You want to be the person lying in his bed again so badly. You want to show him that you’re no longer terrified. You want to give him equal arousal and interest. 

But he doesn’t offer it. No, he simply bites. 

“I can do it.” You say to him in a frustrated sigh. “I’m not helpless, you know.” 

He’s taken aback by the way you rip the gauze from his hands, sitting up and scooting away from him when you dip it into the bowl of alcohol. Your head spins at the act, but you push through the weakness anyway, knowing he doesn’t like the distance you’re creating between him and you. 

You don’t like the distance either, but it’s helpful to know he doesn’t ignore it. 

“I’m aware.” Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the way your heart is beating for him right now, taking the gauze back from you and gripping your arm to pull you back and against him. “Why are you being difficult?” 

He cleans a wound just under your jaw as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer him. You stare back as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, not wincing at all like you previously had when he lets the alcohol burn the swollen punctures.

“Hah, so you can’t read minds?” You confirm for yourself, though you had the suspicion that he couldn’t. “You just keep doing this–” You continue, trying not to sound as if you’re nagging. “And nothing else.”

He tilts his head as he moves the gauze to another part of your neck, knowing full well what it is you want. 

“Nothing else?” He repeats in a sly question. “Is there more you want?”

You nod slightly, feeling the cold alcohol send a shiver across your skin, your head finally clearing of the dizziness just from sitting up.

“Name it.” 

Somehow, you lose the ability to ask for what you want. It feels silly to be mad that he hasn’t given you any sexual pleasure despite feeding off of you for days now. Is it insane that sex is all you want in return? Should you ask for financial compensation or something? 

“Ah.” He answers for you with an all-knowing smirk, his nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent. “You want pleasure, yes?”

“Do you not?” You ask simply, and he pulls back with the gauze to look at you dumbfounded. 

For a solid twenty seconds the two of you stare at each other before he’s dropping the gauze into the bowl and pulling you against him in full, turning your body so that your back is to his chest. His strong arms are still cold, but you feel warm enough against him like this.

“It pleases me to know you want it.” He smiles against the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I have other things to tend to.” He continues, pausing to hold you a bit closer. “I still have to feed, love, and I still need to maintain order here. I cannot just spread your legs every waking minute.” 

You’re not asking for him to fuck you every waking minute. It makes you feel as if he’s annoyed to even use such words regarding this. Still, your cheeks warm at his sweet voice. 

“As much as I’d like to.” 

Oh. Your cheeks aren’t just warm, they’re on fire at those words. You’d grasp at anything right now, despite feeling like an afterthought. You don’t like that you’re not a priority to him, even though he fucking feeds on you consistently. To the point you can’t even stand for a full minute without fucking fainting from blood loss. Still, you accept his words and try to think of the positives over the negatives. 

Unfortunately, you’ll never be satisfied with just his words and a mere ten seconds later you’re right back to questioning, doubting, and feeling upset. 

So he can feed this often, but not even slip a finger into you through it? 

Priorities. He has to feed, he said? Does he not already?! 

“Wait, Sunghoon, you do feed.” You argue. “On me.” 

He shakes his head at your ignorance of believing he’ll ever truly have enough of you. Even past death, he’ll never have enough. Which is precisely why you’re still breathing. 

“There are needs I have that you’ve yet to understand. You satiate the hunger, yes, but that is nothing more than a feeling, not a truth.” 

You try to comprehend his words but fall short. Only because that would mean–

“You’re becoming afraid again,” He comments on your heart rate. “Calm yourself, darling, the need within me is no fault of my own and I’ll continue to keep you from seeing the act take place.”

There’s silence from you as you try to calm yourself down. Of course he has to feed, but…is that not what he’s already been doing to you? Your heart isn’t racing from fear, it’s racing from–jealousy.

“So, mine isn’t enough?” You feel your heart shatter a bit when you voice it, knowing full well that for him to be full, he likely has to kill.

Why are you jealous? Well, if you’re so irresistible like he says you are, why does he hold back? Why are you still alive? Does your blood not taste as good as whoever else he’s been having at? Why does he keep you around, but no one else? Maybe they’re the ones who are irresistible, and you’re just a placeholder for if he can’t find his meal for the night. Maybe he’s just using you. 

“Hmm.” Sunghoon thinks hard at your question. “You’re feeling envious?” 

You don’t respond to him or the way he clocks your jealousy, and instead shake his grip off of you before grabbing the gauze yourself again.

He watches you take the material and dip it into the liquid, moving it down your legs and to the assault of wounds against your thigh. 

“You’re truly strange.” He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs, listening closely to the artery you have there, always so hungry for more but knowing he need not drink for the time being. After all, he’s just eaten. “Almost as unnatural as I am.” 

You have to force back a smile at the truth of his words though, softening at the way he compares you to him like the two of you fit together perfectly. The jealousy rages within you, but so does this strange adoration you have for him. 

“To think I don’t crave you? Have I not shown you already?” 

“Hmm, you might need to remind me.” You’re being playful now, trying to get what you want. Entirely thankful for the way he solves every problem you have with him in your head even if just for a moment.

You think you’ll always miss him on a deeper level than just sitting and speaking though.

“When can I leave the room?” You ask now, suddenly. “When can I come back to your room?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t fight his own smile, loving the way you stay of your own free will, even while upset with him for not giving you more than that single night of love making. 

“Not yet, love.” He mutters now, knowing that it’s not likely for you to be able to make it down the hallway without calling for his help, also knowing that he can’t give you what you want again so soon. 

“Oh.” You look at him, face falling. “Let me guess, because you have better shit to do.” 

“Still so envious.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll learn soon enough how I need you.” 

Just, not yet. 

After all, he drinks you until he has no choice but to stop. Multiple times a day, draining you until it’s near dangerous. The fact that you enjoy it drives him to do it more and more. 

You think it’s easy for him to utilize self-control around you? You think he doesn’t want to experience you in every way you can offer? With those pretty sounds you make? God, he misses the way your body hugged his cock so much. You’re out of your mind to think he’s holding out on you because he doesn’t want it. Because you're not good enough? Stupid, stupid girl. 

He needs it. He wants it. He’s fucking obsessed with what you do to him.

You’re truly not the only one trying to adjust to this situation. He has to be very careful with you, and having sex with you could very well break the resolve he’s forced into himself. A simple touch from you that feels too good could have him acting on a split second decision, drinking until you’re dead and cold, just like him. 

Essentially, he has to train himself to your scent and taste. Sure, he’s been fucking nearly every victim since his cock started working again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather it be you. In fact, the only reason he’s fucking them is to satiate the need to destroy everything that you are for his own desire of having you. 

The issue is that his drive to kill is insanely high, smelling you just down the hall makes every new victim taste better. It makes his cock fuck harder, it makes their bodies feel almost good enough for him to release. But they’re not you, and it’s rendering him unable to control himself. 

His recent victims? Oh, it ends so gruesomely. He feels overheated in the moment, drenched, fucking feral when he makes his kill. Wishing it was you, ignoring the scent of the person beneath him just to smell you from a different room. 

If he gets his hands on you when he’s in that state of mind again, you’ll be gone forever. That’s something Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to live with. Already he’s controlled himself through it once and that may very well have been the hardest thing he’s done in his life. He can’t promise that he can hold back again.

Until he can feed and fuck without feeling his instinct grab him by the throat, he cannot do more than small feedings with you. That alone is training all on its own, because every single time he feeds, he struggles not to take all of it. 

Bit by bit. Sunghoon has to take you piece by fucking piece. And your willingness to do it, entirely awake and aware, makes it all the more difficult. 

He can’t tell you this. Not yet, at least. You’d know the danger you’re in. Nor can he pretend like he will let you leave out of fear. He needs to keep this peace with you until he can truly enjoy you in a way that will ensure you’ll be alive and well after the fact.

And so, he changes the subject, grabbing you even tighter and hugging you in the way any modern boyfriend would. This. This is something he can handle.

“Are you bored of me carrying you across the room?” He asks. “Do you miss walking on your own two feet that much, if just to make it to my room?” He smiles now, making jokes with you that feel a bit dry when it hits your ears. 

“Are you implying that I’m a slut?” You laugh at his attempt to make you smile, slapping against his cold arm playfully. “That the only reason I want to leave this room is to come into yours and fuck you?” 

He shrugs from behind you, hugging tighter, wanting to be under your skin with that beating heart.

“Am I not right to assume? You little harlot.” 

Well, he got you there. 

And you laugh with him about it, living in your little fantasy world like this never has to end. Reality looms taller than Sunghoon does, unfortunately. 

He can feel your heart rate pick up when your laugh slows down. 

“But, Sunghoon, I can’t stay here for much longer like this.” You drop it on him like it���s the easiest thing in the world, and oh how he wishes you could just disappear with him. “I haven’t been home, my phone is there and I’m sure people have been calling.”

His eyes darken at your words as he pushes you from his grasp. Already you wish to leave? After complaining to him about what he doesn’t give you? Is that why you’re saying this right now? No sex means you’ll leave? 

Serves him right for not using the pull on you. He should have kept hold of your mind rather than relish in your willingness. 

“I’ve missed work already.” Your voice gets smaller as you watch him move from the bed and stand in front of you, the scent of cinnamon assaulting your nose along with his darkened and intimidating facial expression. “I– I’ll–come back. I promise.” You cower immediately.

Sunghoon shakes his head at you. 

“Did I not make myself clear?” He deepens his voice, unsure of how to handle his own internal panic. “Never have I let a commoner leave this cathedral alive and knowing the truth.” 

“Are you–threatening me?” You ask, scooting away from him and accidentally knocking over the bowl of alcohol with your foot. 

“Did you not just say you envy the others? Envy dying by my hand?” He questions you back, looming over you in an intimidating stance. Suddenly much, much taller than reality.  “Every time you’ve said you’d come back, you’ve done no such thing. Have I upset you this much?”

You frantically shake your head. 

“No, no!” You lift your hands in defense, reaching out to his towering figure. “I want to be here with you! You just said yourself that you have things to tend to, so do I! If I don’t show up at work, or at least have my phone, people will have the fucking cops out and looking for me!” 

Sunghoon softens, cinnamon air fading out within a second. He feels only slightly ashamed of his immediate outburst when all you can offer back to him is truth. Perhaps you’re the only one living in the real world, even if he’s been living in it for far, far, longer. 

You’ve pulled him into a fantasy, just like he has for you. He truly let himself forget that you’re no victim that’s meant to die. You can’t just disappear without question, and already it has been days. 

Still, you can’t just leave him. 

“I see.” He says, reaching down to grab at the hands you have clinging to his clothes in an attempt to calm himself more than you. “Shall I retrieve your device for you then?” 

You slowly nod, looking away from him and ignoring the fact that as much as you do want to be here with him, the fact that he just implied that you can never leave is a bit– um, intense. So, you don’t argue when you nod to him. If anything, to keep the peace.

“I’ll see to it that you have it in your hands by tonight. And in time, I’ll invite you back to my quarters.” Ending his sentence with a bribe to keep you here felt fitting, and he’s thankful for the way you accept it. 

You nod quicker now, entirely satisfied with his words when he steps back and away from you. 

“Now, please finish cleaning your wounds. I don’t want to taste infection in you.” 

Despite feeling better about it, wanting him still, those words hurt you. You feel insulted by the time he leaves you alone in the room. Like if you got an infection he’d simply lose interest in you, or perhaps end this love of your blood he has. 

He may even just go ahead and kill you if that were to happen.

It drives you to clean yourself twice over. Three times over. Unwilling to lose the feeling of someone biting you so gently, unwilling to die because your use to him has run out. And it feels like you clean yourself all day. To the point you’re probably making yourself more susceptible to infection rather than protecting yourself from it. 

And in this room, time doesn’t exist. There’s a window indicating where the sun is in the sky, but hours and minutes are meaningless. Only when the sun is up do you start counting, knowing that Sunghoon will only visit you during nightfall. 

You clean yourself for what you assume to be hours upon hours, all the way up until the sun falls and you hear the door creak open. You expect to see Sunghoon coming in for his routine of drinking from you, but instead, you find a pale-eyed nun rush to you with your phone and immediately leave after. 

A quick presence is gone within a moment, but you pay no mind as you look down at your phone. You’re thankful for the fact that it’s probably been on the charger all four days you’ve been gone. Considering, well, there’s no electricity this high up in the cathedral, you’ll have to save your battery as best as you can. 

So many missed calls. 

Even more missed texts. 

Dozens of emails. 

Jungwon.

In the morning after you left your apartment, he checked in with you. All throughout the day too. It wasn’t until that same night where his texts became frantic. A little, “i’m coming over, fuck you if you get mad at me for it.” followed by “are you mad at me? why won’t you respond?” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

Really though, it hurts your heart to have forgotten about him entirely during your time here. Reading through his texts, you see him fight with himself over your absence. Up until yesterday, where he texts you from the museum. 

A glaring “stopped by again today only to realize your apartment was unlocked this whole time. i’m with your boss now, we are calling the cops if you don’t respond within the next ten seconds.” 

A full day late, you respond quickly. 

You: wonnie!!! i’m sorry! I got sad and went home to see my mom. totally ignored my phone…and forgot to lock the door i guess

You: you know, hormones lol 

Immediate spam. Your phone vibrates aggressively back to back with his frantic texts. 

Wonnie: you have to be fucking JOKING

Wonnie: NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU. YOU COULD HAVE CALLED WORK OR

SOMETHING FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE. I WAS AT YOUR PLACE EVERY DAY.

Wonnie: i CANNOT believe you!!!!!!!!!!!

Wonnie: your whole ass apartment was unlocked and you weren’t there! anyone could’ve walked right in!!!!! are you stupid or something? 

Wonnie: are you home now?

Wonnie: i’m so mad at you FUCK

Wonnie: i got so scared

Wonnie: im coming over

You panic. 

You: wait, i’m not home yet. I didn’t mean to stay so long, I promise ill be home soon and fill you in on everything. 

Wonnie: call your boss. 

Wonnie: ill deal with the cops, then im gonna be waiting outside of your apartment

Wonnie: don’t ever fucking do that shit again, been crying all morning

Wonnie: i hate you so much right now, im never talking to you again

Wonnie: get your stupid ass back home 

You smile fondly at his worry, but the smile is short lived as you know you probably can’t leave here. Not only from the fact that Sunghoon appears to be unwilling to let you leave but you…don’t want to.

Still, you do need to call your boss, and you make quick work of it. Sitting dissociated through the mindless scolding of your terrible lie of an excuse, and then the following call from the local police department. 

Arguably, speaking to the police was easier than knowing you’ll have to lie to Jungwon again. At least the police are aware that you’re a grown woman who can disappear if she wishes. Jungwon, on the other hand, requires a little more care and consideration. 

You’re tired by the time you lay your phone down, unable to keep your eyes open as you drift off. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Some time later, you wake to the same familiar scent of Sunghoon wafting from under your door. It doesn’t process yet in your brain that you’ve not smelled it since the night you wandered from your apartment. But now? Oh, it’s strong. 

It’s very, very strong. 

Your drowsy eyes look to the door as your legs carry you there, and out you go. Down the hallway, straight to those big doors, straight through those big doors.

The scent burns in your throat the moment you step inside, blurry eyes witnessing two figures right there on the floor. The only clear thing you can make out are his darkened narrowed eyes, only because your brain refuses to process the act taking place in front of you at first.

He looks…rabid. Hair is a mess, sticky and dripping with thick metallic liquid. 

Oh, it sounds so loud. The squelching and the smacking of skin. Your stomach drops, the pit inside of it flourishing with nothing short of rotted desire. 

Right there on the floor of his room lies a woman seemingly experiencing god. Sunghoon is moaning with his eye trained on your shocked figure. He ignores the woman’s aroused grasps against his arms to keep his eyes trained on you. And he just…smirks through it, licking his lips, rolling his eyes back only for them to fall right back to you.

The squelching rings in your ears as he moves faster, feverishly chasing a hunt he’s already got lying beneath him. Almost as if catching him in the act aroused him more than he already had been. Like he’s showing you how much more he’d prefer someone else over you. 

He moans your name inwardly again and again, as if to call you forward to him but your feet can no longer move as you process the act with each call of your name. 

He’s fucking her. He’s devouring her. 

Not you. Her. 

You can feel your heart shrivel at the act when you stumble back, a twisting pain in your chest that you feel silly over. You barely know Sunghoon, but somehow it feels like he’s given you more of himself than he has anyone else. He speaks that way to you, anyway. Always with the words of “I’ve never done this, until you.” 

That was a lie. You’re seeing it now with your own two eyes and you’re paying for believing that you, somehow, could be special. And the pain in your chest travels all throughout your body at the fact that you let this man bite you. You let him take and take until you could barely stand, until you could barely think, until you were right on the cusp of death. 

And you still want to do that for him. But now? He’s grown bored of you. Perhaps he intends to let this woman live too. Perhaps she’s silly enough to fall for a sweet vampire’s words too.

You stumble back more, forcing your legs to work with you rather than against you. It’s like your body has a mind of its own when he smells so welcoming. Cinnamon, spicy, sweet, painful cinnamon. Such a suffocating smell, easy to give in to and grow weak for. At least for you, that’s how it feels. 

When you force yourself to turn around, only to continue stumbling down the hallway, your eyes work against you now too. You knew it would happen though and it’s not something you can stop. The burn and blur of tears prickling at the corners, your throat scratchy and sore. 

You try to hold it in, feeling as if life is being suffocated out of you all the way down. Down, down, down. Past the nuns, past the beautiful and intricate interior, and straight out of the big front doors of the cathedral. 

No goodbyes. 

The breezy night air smacks you hard, forcing a sobbed breath out of you. You dry heave for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut so tight just to try and regain control of yourself and your emotions. The images behind your eyes flash back and forth. You’ve not just witnessed death, but the pleasure of death. Well, if he kills the woman, anyway. 

And you still can’t fathom it. The way you feel, the way you’re reacting, the intense desire for death if it means Sunghoon wants you that badly. Never would you have guessed that a feeling so deeply terrifying exists. But it does, you’re witnessing it overtake the deepest parts of you right now. 

Fuck, you didn’t want to leave but you did. And now here you are, freed from a grasp that you still want so badly. 

Your lungs burn and your chest hurts more than the swollen puncture wounds all over your body. Everything is burning. It’s too, too, hot inside of your skin right now and there’s nothing more you’d rather do than to crawl out of it and freeze. 

Still, you do your best to control the emotions within you. You take a short look around only to feel the head rush hit you now like it should have when you stood from your bed. Right, the blood in your body likely isn’t enough to keep you upright for long and you know you’ll likely not make it to your apartment in this state. 

But you try. Your eyes are out of focus and your legs are clumsy as you try to walk. Down the sidewalk you go, until–

“Woah, little lady.” 

You hear Balor’s voice echo in your ears. The sound of safety feeling so, so far away. 

You can’t even thank him for it because your vision blurs more at the feeling of big, leather clad arms holding you upright, and then– you’re out.

You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you’re able to hold your eyes open again, but when you do, Jungwon is here and so is that hot bartender you forgot existed. And as you try to comprehend where you are, you learn very quickly that you’re in the back room of the club with concerned eyes focused on..not your face, your body.

“Let’s get you home.” Jungwon’s concerned voice settles in your ears, and only now do you feel his warm hands soothing you against your shoulders. 

“Or maybe a hospital?” Jay offers, also inspecting your skin and the weak state of your body as you try to sit up. 

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You say, immediately starting to cry out. “Please, just take me home.” 

And so, home is where you go. Jay drives both you and Jungwon there with a kind voice and worried eyes. You see him make the attempt to hug you before leaving, but Jungwon is quick to stop him with a small shake of his head. 

“Let me know when you’re feeling better.” Is all Jay says when he leaves, which, you’re sure he didn’t intend to leave but of course, Jungwon. You can see that he wants to be the one here with you and he insisted to Jay that he’s got you. 

It heals your heart a little bit, but doesn’t change the fact that you’re embarrassed for not only Jungwon to be pulled into your mess, but Jay too? 

You’re humiliated. 

And by the time Jungwon has undressed and redressed you, ignoring the intense smell of alcohol against your skin for now, he’s immediately lying next to you, clinging to you really. 

 You’re aware of what he saw when he removed your clothes. You heard the breath he took in, you saw his confusion at how the clothes you had on were very much not from your closet. He’s going to ask, and you knew he would.

“You’re really cold.” He says in a cracked voice, gentle and sweet as he tries to warm you up. “You weren’t with your mom, were you?” 

You weakly shake your head. 

“You were with that guy you told me about before.” He says now, grabbing you tighter pretending he doesn’t know just how many wounds you have under your clothes. He can’t help but hold you tighter, even if it hurts you.

“What did he do to you?” 

Your throat starts to burn as you cry again. You can barely process what’s happened yourself and explaining it to someone else only feels that much harder. 

The pulsing in your head is too much, you can’t even think straight right now. 

“It was–” You try to calm down, breathing in deep but avoiding eye contact. “It was consensual, don’t worry.” 

Jungwon’s eyes narrow, staring at the deep bite marks on your neck. He’s quick to lift himself up, ripping your shirt up and off of you without so much as trying to be gentle. His panic is blatant and he’s entirely unable to hide how pissed off he is right now.

“No, it wasn't.” He dead-pans as he presents your own body to you, his voice coming out harsher than usual. “You’d be out of your fucking mind to think i believe that this was consensual.” 

He glares at the swollen marks, unsure as to what to do with himself. 

“Fuck,” He scoffs your name along with the curse, throwing his hands up. “Fucking look at them.”

You turn away from him now, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively in an attempt to not peer at what you wish you could have more of. You know what this looks like though, and you’re really trying to see things from his perspective. 

But…It’s hard after everything you’ve witnessed yourself. 

‘It was.” You say again. “I practically begged him to keep doing it.” 

Jungwon falls silent as he counts. 1, 2, 3, 13, 25, 56, 72, still more.

“I wasn’t going to come home, you know.” You sigh out at the silence of his counting. 

More silence. 

“Was gonna stay and never leave.” 

“What? Why?” He panics more at the admittance, dropping down over you and forcing your arms from yourself, trying to pretend he didn’t re-open some of your wounds by tearing your shirt off of you. 

You can hear your best friend crying at the way you hide from him, all bloodied and bruised, but you keep your eyes closed even tighter. All he can do is lend you the entire weight of his body, enveloping you in all of his warmth and care, using his entire body to shield you from even the air in your room. 

“What did he do?” Jungwon pleads for an answer with a cracked whisper. He needs context. Anything to explain the state of you right now.

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

“What did he do?” He presses again, voice only cracking more as he cries along with you. 

“It’s more so what he didn’t do.” 

Silence again. 

“What did he fucking do?” 

You take in a deep breath, sighing out against your best friend’s fluffy hair, humming at his warmth and how much you’ve missed it. 

There’s nothing you can say to make him understand, all you can do is try because hearing him like this is, arguably, just making it more painful.

“I just really liked him, and I guess he didn’t like me so much in the end.” 

Jungwon chooses to take that at face value, opting to not let you out of his sight from this moment forward if he can help it. At one point with you, he was worried about being too clingy. Truly, he was afraid he would annoy you by attaching himself. Never has he grown so close to a person so fast and never has he gained such comfort within someone else’s bubble like he does with you. The comfort is still there, but no longer does he give a single fuck about clinging too much. You clearly cling too.

If you cling enough to let a man abuse your body like that, you’ll be able to handle him clinging just as much, enough to care for you, and enough to not fucking leave your side. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

After all, he’s not stupid, but he’s willing to act as dumb as you need him to if it means you’ll let him keep you within arms reach. In his head, there’s no way you fell into something with someone who could do this to you without reason, and it appears it’s not a question he’ll get a clear answer from you any time soon. 

It doesn’t matter if his installation will come to an end at some point. He can’t just leave you here when there’s some strange man running around biting the fuck out of people like a rabid dog. Abusing his best friend? No. He won’t have it and he doesn’t care if he has to force you to accept his protection.

He can’t do much for you, but he’s willing to at least be here with you. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungwon soothes you, clinging tighter just to feel some of those reopened wounds bleed onto him. His voice is a stark reminder that there’s more to feel in your body than just pain. “I won’t let him near you again, okay?”

You nod, still crying as you cling back, trying to ignore the images in your head of Sunghoon. 

“Okay.” You lie, missing him too much already, the faint scent of cinnamon still in your nose. 

And you fall asleep like that. Warm. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hate calling it an “escape.” You carried yourself out of that beautiful cathedral against your body begging you to stay. Still, even now with Jungwon clinging so warmly at night, you wish you had never left. 

Even the pain of seeing what Sunghoon does behind your back, the jealousy that came with it, you would have stayed if only to prove your worth to him. Being so close to death is exhilarating, and you find yourself feeling entirely empty and void of any emotion that brings joy because of it. 

This isn’t depression, nor is it simple envy. This sadness within you sinks lower than you thought possible, so deeply rooted within you that you feel death itself couldn’t even allow a safe escape. After all, if vampires are real, who's to say you won't end up as a tormented ghost forever searching for a man who can never die?

Damned if you live, damned if you die, so to say. You can’t have Sunghoon either way, you can only have him while suffering. 

And oh, how you miss the cold. You miss his cold. You miss the fear too. You miss the way he’d laugh with no breath against you and drink from your thighs like he needed more. You miss the way your wounds would pulse in pain and lend little reminders of the teeth that pierced them. Even now, they’re healing so well.

And it still hurts.

It hurts to know he said, while holding you, that he craves you. That he very much wants you but has things to tend to. The fact that he needed to tend to fucking other women while drenched in their blood? Things to tend to. 

Because to Sunghoon, real life women, breathing women, are minimized to things to tend to.

Fucking vampires. 

It’s been a week now since you left and it hasn’t gotten easier. During the week, Jungwon hasn’t so much as let you shower without the bathroom door open. You guess that’s fair. 

Still, it has only been a week. A week of everything moving fast, a week of Jungwon, a week of slow and dreadful acceptance, and a week of smelling nothing but faint, ever so slight, cinnamon. 

By now you know it’s him. Like he’s truly dug his claws into you and doesn’t intend to let you forget all that he took from you. Always that fucking smell, from the first night you met him until now. Yet he is nowhere to be seen, even when you stare at the cathedral after the sun goes down. 

No one has left. No one has gone inside. 

Part of you even found yourself worrying if he’s eaten. Hah. Funny.

Still, you’re forced to live in reality now. Nothing but healing wounds, meaningful days, and reminders that you let yourself fall as quickly and painfully as possible. 

You’re entirely dissociated, as if you’re gliding rather than walking, as if each day passes in a second rather than a twenty four hour time span, as if you’re truly empty now and not filled with the blood you thought meant so much. 

Somehow, you find comfort in the emptiness though. Jungwon fills the space as best he can too. He always accepts your rejections of going to update Jay at the club just to sit between your legs on the living room floor and try to make you laugh through silly faces riddled with concern.

You assume he’s in contact with Jay anyway, letting him know that you’re not quite dead yet. 

The days blur together now, up until two weeks pass, three weeks, four, five weeks.

Thankfully, by the fifth week, it’s gotten easier. Each day you just have to remind yourself that you can never forget Jungwon again like you did before. He’s the one who helped you through this, and to think you’d ever make him go through this again is insane. In fact, he’s the reason you finally feel good inside again. 

He’s like medicine, which is cringe and lame as fuck to say but it’s true. Internally, he’s made you feel better. Yet, right beside all those happy warm feelings lies everything else. Distress, sadness, anxiety. 

They still seep out of you too. Every night, really, after the daytime wears off and Jungwon runs out of things to distract you with.

“Why do you have to look at me like that?” Jungwon says sweetly, sprawled out on your bed in his pajamas as he watches you pace around your room. “I swear, it’s like everything I say to you goes through one ear and out the other.” 

You pause in your step, sad eyes reaching his face. 

“I already told you I’m not going home.” He repeats himself for what feels like the thousandth time to you. “I’m still getting paid, I have enough to last me if you let me stay here before finding work.”

After all, it’s not like Jungwon has anything to go back home to. Save for an annoying sister who probably wanted him to move the fuck out of her space anyway. He’s the last person on this earth to be afraid to up and move out with a near stranger.

You’re not so much a stranger to him though, and the need to be by your side far outweighs anything else right now. 

“Yeah, but, eventually.”

Never have you been one to worry about fleeting time. Never until you met that dead motherfucker. You worry about not what is happening, but what will happen. The inevitable. You no longer welcome it. 

It’s not death that brings the anxiety though, it’s just…the clock. 

With the ticking, the tocking, and the changing of seasons. Everything lasts both too long and not long enough. At this moment, the fear is Jungwon leaving at some point in your life. For any reason at all, really. 

He’s been by your side since you found your way back to him. A nuisance at times, yes, but you’re attached. To an unhealthy degree, you are fucking attached to him at the hip. He’s your only grounding force on this earth and you think he’s picking up on it. 

To the point he’s offered to drop his entire life an hour away just to stay for you. 

Yes, Jungwon recognizes how toxic and unhealthy the friendship has become, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just leave, nor does he want to. Even if he’s the one who leaves to get your mail, he’s the one who cooks, and he’s the one who holds you close at night, reminding you that time doesn’t have to mean a damn thing if you try hard enough to forget about the man who doesn’t experience it at all.

There’s no way you can get through a single day without him right now, and the thought of having to do it in the future scares you. 

You know it’s pathetic. You know you have no right to keep him in a box next to you as a comfort, you know he’s still got a life to live and romance to find. But…you hate it. 

“Eventually what?” He quirks a brow at you, having been concerned for you and the shift in your entire personality yet again tonight. You’ve changed for the worse, and it terrifies him to see you act so gone. 

“You’re gonna leave me here alone.” Your voice is small, cracking when you say it only because you hear the words ring in your ears. 

A pathetic whine, as if you’re speaking to someone else and not Jungwon. You’re not you anymore. No, you’ve become obsessed with the looping memories and feelings that took a mere four days to fall in love with. 

Addicted to emptiness but begging for Jungwon to forever be the crutch you stand on. 

You’re selfish and you have no fucking right to do this to him.

“Hey…” He rolls out of bed and steps up to you, easily putting a soothing hand against your shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. Knowing this same situation happens nearly every night. You panic, he soothes. You beg, he reminds you that he’s the one who offered in the first place. You ask him to stay, he confirms by asking you to let him.

And to him, he knows this is anything but a romantic partnership. You very much need someone here who is willing to play dumb but remain hyper aware. He wants to be this person for you because of his own selfish reasons too. 

It’s not all for you.

For one, he wants the girl back that he met last month. Secondly, he wants to see you learn and grow, because he knows you have a long and beautiful life ahead of you (and he better be fucking part of it.) And lastly, he’s never felt needed like this and there’s something in him that craves to be important too. 

It’s not too difficult for Jungwon to find people that’s important to him. Really, it never takes much. Perhaps someone held the door open for him, he’d probably jump in front of a bus for that person not two seconds later. But to feel just as important to someone else? 

He needs to be here with you. As toxic as it may seem to outsiders, Jungwon sees nothing wrong with being the person you need simply because you’re the person he needs too. 

“Then stop saying stupid shit.” He mopes now as he pulls you back to your bed and holds you much like he always does, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re always okay at work, but I swear the second we come home you’re falling apart.”

You freeze, falling apart instantly. 

“I wish you’d tell me what happened.” He says now, jumping into the typical routine of calming and soothing you. “I don’t know what to do when you get like this.”

You wish you would tell him too. 

But if he knew, that hope of ever seeing Sunghoon again would crumble. Already, Jungwon swears to you that he will never let this happen to you again. But you want it to, so, so badly. 

Even if you’re taking advantage of his care by letting him treat you like a child who can’t escape a tantrum, he really flipped his whole life because you chose to live in a crisis. 

You chose to do this to yourself and to Jungwon. 

Finally, you look up at him with your fingers gripping him.

“I ask so much from you.” You sniffle when you say it, immediately calming yourself and feeling like a fucking idiot for doing this. “I feel like I’m going insane.” 

He nods.

“You kind of are.” He confirms for you. “And you have to talk about it eventually, it’s just going to keep hurting if you don’t.”

He’s right. He’s always right. 

And like always, every single time you imagine how you’ll tell him, nothing in your brain can form a sentence. But you do try and by now, accustomed to your pain, you feel like something needs to be said before he grows tired of you too. 

“I don’t know why, but I wanted him to kill me so badly.” 

Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as you wanted it to, not with the way Jungwon’s face immediately contorts into panic.

“Wha-”

“But he wouldn’t do it.” You shake your head, refusing eye contact. “He’d do it to everyone else, but not to me.” 

“Wait, what?”

Maybe choosing to say that of all things was a mistake. After all, you did appear stumbling down the street near death already. Jungwon isn’t going to take what you’re saying lightly and you were stupid to believe otherwise.

“Have you ever smelled cinnamon?” You continue, trying to skew the conversation from his panic.

Jungwon is flipping his shit trying to make sense of your words. You wanted this guy to kill you? Well, he damn near fucking did and even now, while he’s not around, you’re practically dead already in terms of everything but breathing. And what the fuck do you mean he’d do it to everyone else?! 

Are you referring to an emotional death? Trying to make this shit sound poetic? Or did you really want to die? 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jungwon’s voice is stern but shaky. “Kill you how?” 

You shake your head.

“I don’t know.” You offer, knowing you’re just making it worse. “I wanted him to want me that badly.”

Jungwon drops his arms from you to pull back, dead-pan staring at you because he doesn’t know what to do or say to that. He forces himself to think of the reality of the situation. You’re just being poetic. You’re just being dramatic. 

He’s the same way when someone hurts him too, but still. Using such heavy words scares him, and he can’t just sit here and tell you it’ll be okay anymore. 

“But he doesn't.” Jungwon musters up the courage to say it, knowing you’re going to cry. “This weirdo literally tried to eat you alive, and he still doesn’t want you.” 

And you do cry again. 

“And now, you’re letting him kill you anyway?” Jungwon scoffs. “You’re begging me to stay here with you, just so I can watch you not even make an attempt to fucking get over it?” 

You know he’s telling you what you need to hear, doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want to hear it. The only thing you want to hear is Sunghoon and his lying words, telling you that Jungwon is full of shit. 

The worst part about it is that, it’s not even that you’re suicidal. You’re not. You like being alive. You’re just…you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you wanted and still want Sunghoon to kill you.

Perhaps it’s because it would mean he needs you that much.

But he doesn’t need you, you’re not irresistible. 

And that hurts you. That man fucking slithered into your heart and made a nest there. You can’t get him out no matter how much you try. 

“He broke up with you. You were together for like, what? A few days?” Jungwon minimizes the situation unintentionally, panicking at the way a person he’s grown so close to has managed to be utterly fucking ripped apart by a singular man. “He broke up with you. That’s it. It’s time to stand up and move on, there’s better people out there that–”

“No.” You shake your head. “I broke up with him, I guess, if you can call it that.” 

Jungwon softens, tilting his head. Now he’s getting somewhere. 

“Why, then? Why did you break up with him when you didn’t want to?” Still, Jungwon is glad you chose to. Clearly you’re not as absent minded as you pretend to be. Seeing how littered your body was with pain, you knew you needed to leave, right? You weren’t really just going to let this guy wither you away, right?

“He was with someone else.” 

Jungwon shakes his head in pity. 

“What a scumbag. A total freak.” 

“But like, he needed to do it, I guess.” You try to explain without truly explaining. “I got mad and left because he was doing something he needed to do with someone that wasn’t me.” 

“He needed to cheat on you? Are you hearing yourself?” Jungwon questions, throwing his arms up. “He’s a nympho, babe, he probably manipulated the fuck out of you to make you think this way.”

And at that, you give up on talking about it. You feel too tired to continue. 

“I guess so.” You whisper out with a shrug, sniffling up the tears.

“He doesn’t deserve you. You can’t just…die for people.” Jungwon says, realizing that even he doesn’t follow his own advice. He’d probably die for you himself, but not because he craves it.

He’ll never understand why you wanted this man to “kill” you. In whatever way you meant, no one is worth owning that much of you. 

Jungwon hums though, knowing you’re tired now. He isn’t exactly being as soothing as he’d like to be right now but never has he seen a person act like this over a break up. Cheating hurts, of course, but you barely knew this guy. There’s no way there isn’t something else going on for you to say such insane fucking things. 

“You must’ve lost your damn mind to let someone do that to you.” Jungwon says against your hair, his soft voice not matching his words in the slightest. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Me either.” You admit, feeling the insanity bubbling in your stomach and hating it. 

Still, the scent of cinnamon. 

“Do you smell it though?” You ask now, voice even weaker. 

Jungwon inhales deeply, releasing his breath with all of the frustration in his gut.

You feel it fan across your cheek warmly, minty, and you smile. 

“Cinnamon?” He asks, remembering your question from before. “Yeah, sometimes I can smell it.” 

You smile bigger now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Another two weeks pass, only this time you are coming back to yourself. Which is strange, really. You were beginning to think you’d never feel like a person again after the first month passed. Then, within another few weeks you’re almost entirely back to yourself. 

You’re still a bit dissociated, which is likely due to the trauma of what you experienced and put yourself through but thankfully, the ticking-time spans you grew to hate forces itself now to be your new form of comfort. With each passing second, hour, day, and week, you’re slowly able to not forget, but accept and move on. 

Still, you know it’s going to fuck you up for years to come. You’ll always have the feeling of emptiness deep inside no matter how much the space shrinks. You have no choice now but to try and fill your life and time with things and people who matter to you. At least this way, you know that you matter too. 

And with this time spent away and healing, the scent has faded too. You can even go to work now without holding your breath or your eyes being forced to look at the source of the smell. In fact, you avoid taking even a glimpse of the looming cathedral. You don’t keep cinnamon in your apartment now either. You don’t take it with any of your beverages or food items, and you certainly shouldn’t be smelling it in the air anymore. 

Sometimes it’s still there though, turning your stomach in a way that’s both needy and sick. You still miss him and the feeling of ice, but you know better now. Why give up the ability to breathe without your throat burning? Why give up being a person that Jungwon actually wants to be around now? 

After all, you’ve started feeling so much better to the point that even he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time. Showers are back to being private, you can check your own mail, and a few times you were even able to go to work without him trying to force his way inside like his installation was still sitting on display. 

Which, it isn’t, by the way. Your boss had his name and face blacklisted, but still on most days he waltzed in like he owned the place. Every single time buckling the knees of your boss, every single time being allowed to stay. 

Thankfully, push came to shove and he landed himself a job there with you, his employment became official just today, actually. And as professional as the place was for you when you approached with your resume, it’s definitely not professional at all. They did pay Jungwon under the table several times just for doing shit you were supposed to be doing. 

The point is, even if Jungwon wasn’t able to make the effort to keep good on his word regarding moving into your apartment to stay beside you, he still likely would have pushed to at least work with you. 

Thankfully, he gets to do both those things. 

And despite the fact that he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time, there’s still an immense amount of anxiety about being away from you for too long. He knows that in time, it’ll pass and the two of you can live both near each other and apart, but for now? Might as well call him your husband because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be doing his own thing without you. 

That leads to now. The same day Jungwon secured his employment, the same day you made it through without a single breakdown, the same night Jungwon needs to actually go back home to move his shit into this apartment with you.

“Come with me.” Jungwon comments, but you know it’s more of a demand. “You can meet my sister, just ignore if she makes jokes about us dating or something.”

You laugh. Genuinely, you laugh.

“Jokes? We both know you’re in love with me Jungwon. I’m just waiting for the ring at this point.” 

He laughs with a shrug, knowing he probably would marry you at this point, if just to protect you from all the people who wouldn’t care for you as much as he does. 

“Really though, come with me?” He asks again. “I’m still a little worried about leaving you here.”

“You’ll be back in the morning,” You start, trying to calm him down. You genuinely do feel okay right now. “I’ll just be sleeping the whole time, I'm tired anyway.”

Jungwon nods fondly, aware that it’s only practical that he make the move during the night hours. After all, his sister won’t be home otherwise and he does miss her. It’s true that you’ll probably just go to bed and he’ll be back before you even wake up tomorrow.

Still.

“You could just sleep in my old ro–”

“Wonnie.” You walk up to him and grab his face with both hands. “I’m fine.” 

He smiles at you, always loving the way you do your best to reassure him even through your worst breakdowns. You’re not breaking down right now though, and he can’t help but believe every word you say when you’re looking at him like this. 

“I swear to god if I come home and you so much as have a single bite mark on you, I’m burning this fucking city to the ground.” 

You roll your eyes, the memory stinging only a little bit. By now though, you’ve almost entirely forgotten how it felt in the first place. 

In fact, you’re shocked by the way you acted after leaving. So outside of yourself. Truly, you think you were going insane and Jungwon was right to confirm that for you. You’re lucky you had him here with you, because you likely would have ran right back into that fucking cathedral and–

Yeah. You would have done something dramatic. 

You didn’t though. And sure, you now know vampires exist or whatever but Sunghoon has not bothered you even once since you left. You hope he’s simply moved on so that your resolve doesn’t break. Jungwon worked so hard to make you feel better, and you worked just as hard. You can’t just feel bad that you don’t remember what Sunghoon’s fangs felt like against your skin.

If anything, you hope Sunghoon is freaked out by you leaving and knowing his secret. Maybe he thinks that if he tries to approach you again, you’ll tell everyone about what he is and what he did. Not that it would end with him in jail or anything. You’d probably end up in an asylum, actually, but still. 

And to Jungwon’s threats of arson, you simply pinch his cheek, being sure to sit your thumb right in his dimple. 

“Strictly no vampire kinks.” You smile at him, crossing both of your arms in front of yourself to create an X. 

“Good.” Jungwon nods back as he puts on his shoes and heads for the door. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll keep my volume turned up. You’ve got Jay’s number too, he can be here quickly if it’s an emergency.”

He feels content knowing that you’re about to be stuck with him for as long as he can manage. It’s just one short trip back home. A mere six or seven hours spent away while he packs the shit his sister probably “forgot” to box up for him, loading up the rented van, and then unloading it here. 

It’s just a short trip. You’ll be sleeping through it anyway. 

And when he’s gone, you feel tired. Keeping good on your promise of going to bed almost immediately. The feeling of being alone for the night is a bit uncomfortable, so sleep comes easy as a means to escape the inevitable over-thinking you’d probably do otherwise. 

No overthinking. 

It’s just a short trip. 

Jungwon will be back before you wake up. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah, to think it’s over. 

To think he’d leave you be? To think he wouldn’t be looming around every corner watching, waiting? If it weren’t for Jungwon, these weeks wouldn’t have passed so easily for you, that much is certain.

As if they were easy for you to get through at all. Jungwon, the very person who got you through it, was the reason he stayed away, the reason you were able to heal. 

Jungwon was the ward.

Was. 

Deep in your sleep it’s like your body knows. The same scent fills your nose just seconds after your sleep brain feels the goosebumps spread across your skin. Instantly, you wake up and back to insanity you go

You truly wake up. 

Your legs aren’t being carried by any force other than you own, and your mind is crisp and clear in your thoughts as you jump out of bed. 

Not walking, running to your apartment door. You swing open the door and don’t even look at him before slamming your entire weight against his chest and clinging like a lost child. You can feel the familiar cold fear filling your body, knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you right now. 

All of the progress you made burns away within seconds. You’ve never felt so elated to ruin your own life. 

Even when he pushes you away, nothing at this moment could make you let him go. He’s here, he’s standing right there. Your fingers grip as he pushes you back in silence, stretching his garment out far beyond the bounds of which it was sewn to withstand. It rips, and still he shoves you further back from him all while stalking forward. 

Walking you back into your apartment, just to let the door slam behind him as he stands with a narrowed gaze fixated on you. 

You glance up at him only for a moment, loving the crazed look in his eye. Adoring that he must have missed you to appear so full of life like this. You can only compare his eyes now to the same eyes you saw when you ran away from him. 

As if they were burning on you. Or perhaps, for you? 

He’s dangerous, your body feels it instantly and all you can do is lean into it.

“That’s all it took for you to leave me?” Sunghoon bellows out in a spiteful voice, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “Had your blood boiling over some minx? I told you I didn’t want you witnessing it.” 

You soak in his voice like it’s your last supper, missing it so badly, adoring it even more. He speaks as if weeks haven’t passed, as if it’s a mere hour after you ran from him. You move forward to cling again, unable to think of words to say and opting to show how much you regret leaving through your actions.

Still, he pushes you away from him. A bit harder this time, to the point you almost topple over onto your back. You keep your balance only because it feels like you’re fucking floating just looking at him right now.

“I tried to pull you back to me, why did you fight it so hard?” He continues to fuss, as if he’s been thinking over and over again about all the words he wants to spit at you. Like he’s punishing you, and yet still struggling himself not to cling back. “Never has your aroma been so empty, so faint.”

You’re in shock but your body yearns for him, thankful to go back to square one. Like you’re special. Like you meant something enough to him that he’s here looking like he may give you what you’ve wanted all along. 

“Countless women. Countless men. Never you, and now you manage to hide from me?” His hand shoots to your neck, pushing you back further into your apartment. “How?” He grips dangerously tight as he continues to spew his breathless words. “You masked yourself with that– that floral boy, didn’t you?” 

You listen to his spiteful words like your favorite song, falling into each vibration of his vowels and consonants. Never has he spoken so much, and never have you heard his voice waver the way it is now. You can’t help but follow his movements with a smile on your face, swallowing through this tight grip on your throat. 

“You cannot fathom how hard it was to stop. Do you understand how much I want to fuck every last drop out of you? You should be thanking me.”

Oh, you’re so proud. So, so, fucking proud. The glee runs through you at his needy words, even if you know better. He’ll always feed on people who aren’t you, and he’ll always probably fuck them too. 

But does he show up at their house? Does he grow frustrated with them like this too? 

“Did you kill her when you were done?” You ask out through his choking hand, so confident that it makes him freeze on the spot.

He’s genuinely shocked that you’re not scared. You’re not intimidated. You don’t feel bad. No, you feel proud of being hunted. Like you take enjoyment out of his suffering, much like he does for you. 

On his part, it’s not intentional. You have to suffer to be next to him. 

Never has a person made him suffer too though. Fucking never would he have allowed it. God, he’s infatuated with you, utterly obsessed.

“Of course I killed her.” Sunghoon admits with his brow rising up, feeding into your ecstatic reaction of his death grip on you, only gripping tighter now. “Does that please you?” 

You’ve never been happier. 

And he moans out at the way you shyly nod, seemingly experiencing euphoria at his admittance of murder. Oh, if only you knew how good you smelled that night. Blood pumping for him, blood boiling in emotion for him. The woman didn’t last more than a minute after you left him. He couldn’t resist at that point. 

Seeing you, smelling you, fucking someone who he wished could have been you. 

He’s not prepared at all for this, for you. So willing, wanting what he’s trying to avoid doing to you.

That’s why he’s here though. Unprepared, but unable to resist any longer. He has pulled and pulled, every single day trying to lure you back to him against your will. He thought he was going to have to take you tonight against your wishes. 

But your eyes are sparkling for him. 

“No one’s heart has ever beat quite like yours when looking at me.” Sunghoon whispers now, falling and spiraling into this moment with you, losing his composure entirely. “So loud, each pump fucking gushes.”

“And I'll chase it every time.” He continues to ramble in a way that sounds like he’s in physical pain, like the amount of time you’ve stayed away from him genuinely hurts him. 

You still can’t respond though, your words are caught up in your throat right where his hand squeezes and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He knows it too, and he didn’t intend to let you answer anyway because genuinely, he’s fucking losing himself. 

His hungry lips chase forward near instant after saying those words to you, not biting, just kissing. Tasting you rather than the blood that drives him. 

Because for some reason, that’s what he craves right now. 

“I beg.” He cries out against your tongue, relishing in the feeling of your life clutched in his hands, not even sure himself of what he’s begging for.

“Sunghoon,” You choke out his name with a gentle voice, pulling back from his bruising lips and throwing your arms up around his shoulders. “I bet you could smell my heart shatter too.” 

He moans at the strained words first and the out of body experience you lend to him second. His soul is always trapped within this dead skin, but you ascend him. 

Here, standing with his hands on your throat, you hold him? You say sly, mocking words? Oh, he can give you the world. He can give you anything you want. He can be whatever you want. Never has a person had this hold on him, and never could another person be able to do what you do. 

He can’t just let you go. He tried already. He’s supposed to be the one with the ability to hunt, lure, and pull. How is it that you do it to him? Your blood alone does it. The fact that all you need to do is exist within the same city and he’s ripping his bedroom walls apart wanting to get at you? He needs you. 

No. You’re not going anywhere this time. He’ll give up the taste of your sweet blood if he has to. The taste of your wet tongue is enough to satiate him by this point. The feeling of your neck beneath his hands, your pretty eyes urging him to strangle the life out of you.

He’d do it too. All you’d have to do is ask. He would do anything for you at this moment, no matter the cost. He will take anything you offer.

“Oh–” He groans first, licking his lips. “I could almost taste it.” His eyes darken more, somehow, as he leads you through the apartment. All the way until that same gaze causes your legs to buckle. He can’t help it by this point, after all, he knew coming here would end up this way.

There’s no self control when his hands release your neck, your buckled legs forcing you to fall against the floor, and he gladly topples with you. His hands immediately shoot to either side of your head, holding himself up just so he can dip down and inhale you. 

Fuck, he missed the way your skin smells more than he remembers. And trust, missing you was a daunting experience for him before he got here.

He inhales all over you, again and again. He trails his nose against both sides of your neck, up your cheek, into your hair, down to your neck again.

“So delicious.” He moans mindlessly. “Never have I missed someone so terribly.” 

“You were with someone else.” You continue your confident scolding with a scoff, only because of the way he’s losing himself on you. This is all you could ever want and reminding him of why you left feels elating. 

“My love,” He starts, speaking right up against your ear as one of his hands trails from your cheek to your waist. “My loyalty to your life is what I offered.”

Goddamn the confidence running through you smells stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. As if you didn’t already drive him to do things he never once considered. Oh, now? With you like this? He would die ten times more for you and you alone, if he could, anyway. 

“Do you not recognize that I would have drained you to death, if I didn’t want you here with me?” 

He lifts his head now, looking at you with so much adoration. 

“You’re not a simple meal, when will you understand that?”

And when you snicker at his desperate praise, he cannot fucking control the feelings within him.

“Your little floral friend is going to be devastated,” He admits with a rumbled voice, alluding to the inevitability of him coming here tonight. “You’ve begged me for this, and now I’m begging you.” 

You pause, feeling the butterflies in your stomach release in a deep breath. 

“Die for me.” Sunghoon whispers, dragging that same wandering hand straight between your legs and dipping into the wet heat he’s been missing so badly. No blood, just thick, hot, wet slick. “I beg.” 

You can barely comprehend his words through that ice cold feeling of his fingers pressing into you. He hums in the silence, looking straight into your eyes with the question. He’s very aware of the weight behind it too. 

“My love, please.” He continues, losing composure by the seconds as he feels how warm your wet walls are hugging his fingers. “Not in a thousand years have I wanted someone more than you.”

He continues pressing his fingers in, moaning himself at how good it feels, only to feel your moan fan against his cheeks in turn. It’s something that drives him only further from the self-control he fought so hard to keep. That warm breath represents the life within you that he intends to snuff out. If at all, to keep  you forever. 

“And not for a thousand years more–” He’s starting to babble, his once clear thoughts racing at being surrounded by everything that is you. “Please.” 

And his fingers only quicken with his thoughts, rendering you unable to answer even if you tried. The idea and confirmation in his head of not truly killing you drives him wild. It would be death, nonetheless, but not true death. For weeks he has suffered over the thoughts, always telling himself that he would never fate someone to a death such as his own. 

But you, oh you. The sublime blood within you pulled him harder than he believes he pulled you. Never in his thousands of years has he experienced such a thing, nor did he know such blood existed within a person. It drives him to feel for you. To adore you. To be entirely enamored with the fact that you have shattered him from within at both the thought of losing your blood, but wanting to take all of it. 

Still, he craves the taste of you to such an extent that you truly will die tonight, whether it’s against your will or not. It’s too late for him to reason with himself, feeling your walls wrapped around his fingers, seeing you act so mischievous towards his antics from before. At this point, just a blink of time compared to how long he’s lived, the decision is clearer than anything he thinks he’s ever had to choose. 

If he can’t have all of your blood, you’ll waste it on a death not nearly as beautiful as he can offer. 

If he can have all of your blood, perhaps he doesn’t have to lose you along with it. After all, it’s not just the blood at this point that makes him feel like a blood-drunk beast. No, no, no. It’s everything that is you. Your skin, the secretions of your body, the way your hands grip and the way your eyes blink. Blood-drunk, yes, but more so just drunk on you.

He can settle without the breath and without the blood if you’re willing to share meals with him for the remainder of time this earth has in the universe. 

Sunghoon’s mind is racing at the thought. Working too fast for him to focus on everything at once, but he tries. Tucking his fingers deep, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling as deeply as he can. 

You’re feeling like you’re on top of the world in the way he falls apart on you, unable to comprehend that this is actually happening. Every word he’s said to you rings in your ears as if it were spoken in a language you can’t understand. With his fingers working you open, with his lips on your skin rather than his fangs…

You feel…different. Like he feels differently. 

And you can’t stop yourself from basking in the thought that he killed that woman. What was once jealousy that he didn’t want you enough to kill you has twisted and morphed into the thought that he kept you alive because he couldn’t stand not having you.

Every whispered word confirms it, and still you can’t comprehend fully what it is he’s trying to say. 

So, you focus and try to comprehend the feeling in your body that he’s offering instead. You have yearned for this cold within you. Missed it so badly you went insane. 

To think you’d ever truly get over him is arguably more insane than wanting him to kill you at all.

“Did you hear me?” He whispers against your ear, shoulders shifting with each plunge of his fingers, other hand clinging to your waist so tightly, almost pulling you to him. “You could be beside me,” He moves his lips across your neck, resting his lips against the moan you let out. “Forever.”

Oh, it clicks. 

And just as it clicks, he can hear your heart rate gushing the same blood he intends to take from you in full. Gushing, rushing through each vein and valve within you. Oh, he could truly devour you whole with how you’ve deprived him of this. He could leave not a trace of you left for the world to remember, but no. That would be worse than the beheadings that haunt his nightly visions. 

The sound of it rushing through you, god, it makes him feel like a mad man. He can’t help but prevent your timid answers in the midst of red hot desire. He pulls his hand out of you, spreading his palm against your healed thighs instead and spreads your legs out wide from under him. 

He’s quick to move down. No kissing, no biting, nothing like what he wants to do. He needs to satiate his desire somehow, and he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your blood until the time comes. 

And when he pulls your sleep-shorts and panties off of you, he’s immediately licking a languid stripe up your glistening cunt. He remembers how it looked in red, the thought sending his body into overdrive at the taste of you now compared to that night. 

Still so sweet. Almost as good as the blood. Ah, it serves as a reminder that perhaps he can give up the blood after taking it from you. This alone is enough. So creamy, so slippery. 

Yes, yes. A confirmation. It’s you, not just your blood. It’s you he won’t live without. Your mind, your voice, the wet you spill, the cum you’ll let him fuck out of you. 

It’s always you. 

And he hums into it, licking into you as far as his tongue can manage. He braces both hands on your thighs just to spread them further, skewing his head to reach deeper, deeper, fucking deeper. Tasting you, smelling you, utterly obsessed with you. 

All you can do is shoot your hands down, forever waiting to feel his teeth sink into you but only feeling pleasure. So much pleasure. All of his freezing body parts just send consistent shivers up and down your spine. It’s like you can feel him under your skin when he does this, even with his hair tangled in your fingers as if you’re appreciating him for all of it. 

It’s so good. With the way he doesn’t need to breathe. He keeps his tongue in you, and even still you feel as if you don’t need your clit stimulated at all with the way he’s working his mouth so aggressively. And it’s good with the way his fingernails dig into your skin not yet enough to cause blood, unlike before. Good with the way he hums into you through it all, the same way he did when he’d feed on you.

Ah, it’s just, it’s good. It’s dreamy. All of it feels like a fantasy up until he does pull back. 

You look down in time with him looking up, those pretty eyes no longer looming and dark. Still crazed to an extent but you know they’re for you. 

“Sunghoon,” You whisper out, watching him closely with the way his eyes roll back at even hearing his name on your tongue so prettily. “Why aren’t you feeding?” 

You feel his fingernails leave more half moon shapes in your skin at the question. His eyes open in a half-lidded stare at you now, lips falling slack.

He looks so pretty, with the wet coating of his plush and pretty lips, your hands still tangled in his hair. 

He still just looks at you. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t answer. 

“You’re so quiet now.” You comment, feeling shy with the way he stares at you rather than your open pussy right in front of his mouth. “Say something.”

And within a single blink, his face is right up against yours, one hand still keeping your leg spread open, the other pinching your chin as he continues to stare.

“Let me have you.” 

You hear his words clearly this time, breath caught in your throat up until he kisses it out of you. He breathes you in deeply, trying to drown himself in all that is your life before what he will inevitably do. 

“Let me.” He pleads again, his eyebrows falling as if he’s in genuine pain to say it. 

Your arms reach around his neck, staring at him with so much confirmation in your eyes. You’d let him have anything he wants. Anything. 

And he groans at you, releasing your chin just to reach down to get his length out, appearing as though looking at you like this alone is enough to make him crumble to dust. He’s been aching this whole time too, since before he even left the cathedral. Borderline edging himself from both the pleasure of your body wrapped around him and the pleasure within you that would satiate his hunger just for a moment. 

He misses the feeling of you so badly. The warmth, the slide, the way you cling to him like nothing he could do would scare you. 

Just….one last time, he wants to feel warm. 

And he chases for the heat inside of you, sliding in without breaking eye contact, without waiting, without savoring it. 

It knocks the breath out of you again, forgetting just how cold it is when he settles in deep. So fucking deep. 

You wince in pain before moaning out to him, whispering his name in a drawn out sigh.

“Ah, my love,” He groans at your reaction, his hips immediately moving. “My pretty, pretty, love.”  Your walls hug him so perfectly, taking every inch with just a tiny wince.  “Will you still sound so lovely?”

You don’t understand the question, but you nod to him, wanting nothing more in this moment than to prove your worth to him. To please him. 

Such an insane woman, he thinks. Letting him take you and have you in whatever way he wishes. Whether living or dead, he truly believes every mindless nod you give to him. It’s clear, you’re just as deeply infatuated with him as he is with you.

Both of you would give and take happily, no matter what it is. 

And fuck he can feel your living pulse against him with each fast and torturous thrust, snapping his hips so quickly into you. He can’t help but fuck hard and with purpose. Slamming in and out with echoed slaps and mindless groans. 

Everything that you are could end him in an instant and all you can do is moan out for more. 

Oh, he gives it. Of course he does. He will give you anything. Everything. 

And it only becomes harder to resist when he kisses against your lips again, swallowing each moan of his name, exhaling it back out to you with the sound of your name. A mantra of two people, facing only death together and loving every heart-wrenching second of it. 

The cold within you flourishes with each sound in his throat, you squeeze around him, your legs hug against him, your arms wrap tightly against his neck as he kisses you. Your body can’t withstand the speed of his cock slamming into you for much longer without coming undone.

And he doesn’t stop, seemingly never growing tired. Up until he feels your body clench entirely around him, he clings back at you at the feeling, whispering handsome words and proud promises. 

“Already?” He grunted out first, hearing your blood rush and your muscles tense. “Ah, can hear it rushing through you, let it go, love.” 

And you do, you let it go despite wanting it to last longer. So, so much longer. 

He lends you a choked and inward groan at the way you react to his relentless thrusts, flexing his abs and pointing his cock as deeply into you as he can reach. And for the second time, Sunghoon feels the warmth of you spill over him. Prettier than the blood, your voice so, so, sexy choking out a string of curses just for his ears to adore.

“There you go.” He coos through it with his own groans, savoring every squeeze and squelch, adoring the sounds you make for him. 

And as he watches, he can’t help the feeling inside of him. Your heart is beating so fast through the pleasure only he can offer you, and he keeps doing it. Fucking you through the orgasm only to not stop after the fact either. 

It’ll be the last time he’ll ever feel heat like this on him. He can fuck any and every victim, but none will feel as good as you. Partially because you aren’t being manipulated, he has no hold on your mind right now. You’re not gripping and moaning because you’re in a daze, you’re doing it because you fucking want it.

God, having sex for the sake of sex is something he hasn’t done in a long time before you. Enjoying in the pleasure, fucking suffering through all of it. Truly, for him, if this is the last time your body will be warm, he’s going to take his goddamn time making sure you’re well aware of just how good you could have it if you let him keep you forever. Cold and dead, he’ll still love the feeling of your body.

So much that still, even with your orgasm dripping all over him, he pushes and he pushes. Thinking only of how he plans to drain you in more ways than once tonight. He can hold off for as long as he can with his own pleasure, because this alone is fucking bliss.

And he doesn’t care if he’s knocking the breath out of you, only because he knows that soon enough, you’ll never have to worry about breathing again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re unsure as to how long Sunghoon has been lying with you like this, but you were able to get a bit of rest against him. Even with your fingers feeling like ice wrapped up in his, you feel safe and at home here. 

Not because you are at home, but because he’s here with you. 

The night outside your window tells you that you’ve not been sleeping for long, but you can barely recall coming to your bedroom at all with him. He must have carried you here and cuddled himself up against you. 

You stir in his grasp, peeking an eye up at him. 

“You’ve rested enough?” Sunghoon smiles at you with saddened eyes, his pupils still blown and hair an absolute mess.  

You shift against him, turning to face him entirely. 

As he looks at you, all he can do is remind himself that he’s never considered fating someone with this curse until finding you. With your pretty jealous words and your intense need to have him take you out of this world all together. Never has he given the chance for another person to know him so deeply and have them react with only fondness and desire. 

This is his chance, isn’t it? To find forever? 

As monstrous as he is, he does still have desire. The feeling of loneliness isn’t meant to be grown accustomed to. For him at least. All of his fellow vampires have companions, and he swore he’d never do that to another person. 

Perhaps it’s because many of the vampires he has mingled with took their companions by force. He could see the disdain in their eyes, and that’s not something he thinks he could live with. But you don’t look at him like that. You slept soundly next to a man wanting to kill you. Actively struggling not to do it with each and every breath you take. 

And oh, since the start of his curse, the need to taste that last famed drop lured him to every meal he’s feasted on up until now. Such a delicious flavor, truly the best sensation running down his throat. To have you offer that last little sip to him? Ah, fuck.

 The feeling in his stomach flutters at the thought of turning someone for the first time. Knowing that someone will be you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be a companion filled with resentment and agony at your new life. 

It’s electrifying. Like his heart could beat again at any second because you truly make him feel like he’s never experienced death at all. Despite being surrounded by it, despite experiencing it himself, despite taking lives daily for thousands of years. 

It’s amazing to him, to love someone so much he’s willing to fate them with eternal thirst, congealed blood, glitter and gold, beautiful and ugly, accidental lures before intentional ones. 

Death.

Vile, cold, damp skin. Safe light of the moon, dust in the sun. The only threat is that of life itself.

Light. Sharp pointed dogwood stakes. Beheadings. 

But…a companion.

The life he could live with you, oh the joy that runs through him is far too beautiful. The forever life. Eternity. Living through it all, far surpassing the roaches and bacteria of this earth. With you. 

So many things you’ve forced him to understand. Loneliness, despair, want, need, envy. It’s been so long since he’s entertained petty mortal feelings, but you forced them into him and out of him. The only need he’s grown accustomed to was hunger and thirst. Never love, or warmth, or want. 

Oh, forever. The two of you could starve after draining every living soul. All it takes is for him to take that last gush of blood from you. 

Without the lure. Without the manipulation. 

Never would he perform the rite without your pleasant voice telling him to. Never would he want to spend eternity with a woman so luring who would want nothing more than to be the blade slicing through the bone in his neck. 

That legendary, utterly delicious, last drop of blood that he’s tasted so many times before. It’s different this time only because the blood isn’t for him and him alone now. He has to share it, and it pains him to know that none would taste quite like yours. 

The hardest part would be controlling his instinct of swallowing it instantly, rendering you dead and unmoving for the eternity he wishes to have you. 

A new feeling. 

Anxiety. 

Your death would be slow, a cold and dreary one, but it wouldn’t be lonely. He’d make sure you feel so good through it. He wouldn’t spill a drop. You’d be clean, avoiding a gruesome death otherwise. 

And time would be against him, because upon taking that last drop, he’d barely be able to savor it before continuing the rite. A final sip that he can’t even swallow. A final sip that must be fed to you. Blood leaving your veins only to slide down into your emptied stomach through dead lips.

There, a final exhale, and then forever inhales. 

You’d look so beautiful dying next to him. He’d hold you through it. 

Is fate so dreary in a moment like that? Where is he feeling something akin to love for the first time in lifetime after lifetime? Is he selfish to need you so badly? 

“You could have it all.” He inhales the words at your drowsy face nearing sleep again. The silence you lended after his last comment kept him in his head, and now he wants out of it. 

He hugs against you so tightly, trying to keep you awake despite knowing he likely fucked you too long and too hard.  Still, he wants to encourage a life with him for you. 

“I can give it all to you.”

You’re silent at his words as you listen to him. You soak them into your sleepy head and smile.

“Sunghoo-”

“I beg of you.” He answers for you, grabbing your face tightly and landing an immediate kiss against your lips. A deep kiss, one that…oh. He’s crying. 

You feel the cold wet hit your cheeks as he kisses. He does it before you can even move your own lips against him, but you do start to kiss him back. Your brows furrow in concern at this new emotion he’s showing to you, but your handles are gentle when you caress his cheeks through it. 

“Die for me.” He whispers through the kiss, trying not to let you pull back at the words. He knows now that you heard them loud and clear.

Oh.

Why is there nothing in this world that you want more?

“It’ll only hurt for a little while.” He tries to make it sound pretty with his soothing whispers, not yet realizing that he hasn’t cried in several centuries. “You’ll come back.”

“Are you asking me to–?” You breathe out for him, once, twice, and then never finish what you were trying to ask simply because he makes himself very clear.

“You can be like me, my love.” 

Your body pulses in fear, but the adrenaline hits you in all the right spots as you break eye contact to cling instead, this time shoving your nose up and against his neck. Wanting nothing more than this dead skin, needing nothing more than a man who wants to kill you. 

But Sunghoon doesn’t want to end you, no. He wants to keep you forever. 

And forever is different with Sunghoon. It’s never ending. 

Are you even prepared to never see an end? With the man whispering so sweetly to you? Absolutely. 

Would a split second decision like this ruin your life forever? What's forever anyway? When you have many lives to ruin and many more to deem a success if you choose to go with him. 

Die. Only to live forever? 

You nod once, then you shake your head. His arms wrap around you tightly at your indecisiveness. He’s content enough just knowing you’re considering it and truly, he’s trying to be patient. Waiting and well aware that the question is likely the hardest decision you’ll ever need to make. 

“I’ll beg again and again.” He whispers, feeling your panicked lips try to calm your breathing against his neck. Still, you’re clinging to him tightly and it makes him feel…happy. “I cannot fathom a death for you that’s not this. Forever gone from me.” 

You shake your head again, but then…you nod. 

“Will it hurt?” You ask, feeling your heart rate threaten to kill you before Sunghoon even gets the chance himself. 

“Tremendously.” He chuckles at the ignorance, though even he barely remembers the pain himself these days.

 “Only for a little while, darling. I told you.” He licks his lips, anticipating the blood running through you to run through him soon. The hunger is almost overcoming him now and if you don’t agree, he very well may end up killing you regardless.

And the thought pains him. 

If there was ever a time to hold himself back, it’s now.

“Don’t die without me here with you. Now or ever.” He continues in a sweet voice, trying to control the wavering breaks his throat is trying to force out of him. 

“Can I…” You stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can I have a minute to think?” 

“Oh course,” He smiles to hide his frustration, pulling you back by your shoulders and sitting himself up against your bed. “But, the sun rises in three hours, and that’s three hours of fighting my urge to do it without your confirmation.”

You pause, finding comfort in the fact that he’s willing to suffer through your inevitable acceptance. There’s no way you’ll end up saying no to him, only because of how badly it hurt when you walked away from him. It rotted within you for weeks, and even when you thought you were better…all he had to do was stand outside your door to have you running to be in his arms.

What’s a bad decision when you could have lifetimes to make up for it? Even if said decision is what gives you those lifetimes. He’s asking for you to stay with him. To be with him. Isn’t that what you want?

But to die…

And you only cling to him through the fear, hoping he can save you from what he’s offering. He’s the comfort and the ultimate end. 

Or, perhaps, the ultimate beginning.

You’re not sure. You only found out vampires are real like two months ago. It’s not exactly something you can comprehend so quickly, but it is something you know you want more than anything if it means you can be next to Sunghoon. 

“Will it ease your fear if I talk about what it’s like to be me?” Sunghoon offers both a reason to give you insight, as well as distract his own mind during this moment of distress.

You nod immediately, hugging yourself so tightly to his side and trying to keep your nose up and against him simply because that brings you the most comfort. Smelling the faint cinnamon, feeling him against you. 

“I’m the first of my family to reside here, but I’ve been here for thirty years. Commoners aren’t aware as I try to remain hidden save for when I need to hunt.” He starts, continuing after hearing the way your heart calms. “But, city officials know very well who I am, and where I come from.” 

You listen, trying to take in his words as truth rather than fantasy. 

“I was born in seventeen thirty eight, overseas. Every few hundred years I’ll relocate simply because it becomes boring watching the same country grow and be destroyed. I ran from many wars, have lived many lives.” 

Oh. Okay.

“I know every language. I’ve lived every life you can imagine, worked every job you can think of to rid myself of boredom.” 

“So you weren’t always pretending to be a priest?” You try to make light of the fear within you, almost, somehow, wanting to snort at his choice of current lifestyle. 

“Ah, no.” He chuckles for you, rolling his eyes at how you mock him in the face of your own death. “I was a banker before this, I despised it. Only lasted about seven years before relocating here.”

A pause, you hear him chuckle. 

“I really despise numbers.”

In the calmness of his voice, within his gentle grasp, you feel comfortable. 

“Did you come for the cathedral?” 

He nods, holding you against him even tighter.

“History is protected, whether it be land, buildings, or people. It felt fitting to be a priest if I was to stumble inside parading as a drunken man needing a place to stay.” 

“How did you become, uh, what did she call you? Master?”

“Ah,” Another scoffed chuckle at your ignorance. “Did you believe them to be alive?” 

You freeze, body stiffening at the shock. They were fucking dead?! This whole time?!

“I slept in a cathedral full of fucking vampires?!” 

“You did.” He smiles. “But they are very well aware of what’s mine.”

He loves the way your face looks when you process words. He is more aware than you think of how insane all of this must sound to you. Yet, still, he has never truly lied to you. 

“They needed an order, so I brought that order. Thus, Master.” He smiles as he motions towards himself with you still in his grasp, as if he’s playfully boasting his own intelligence over the vampire-nuns. 

You pull back to look at him, feeling a bit calmer now in the way he describes countless lives and knowledge. You can’t experience any of that with the life you have right now. In fifty to sixty years you’ll be in an urn on your mother’s fireplace. 

Why would you want that when you could be in a bed with silk sheets? Or perhaps by then you’ll be able to travel elsewhere with Sunghoon, finding new beds with even softer sheets.

And only now do you realize that Sunghoon didn’t put you in danger at all. In fact, he knew he was dangerous and forced you to live. Even when you asked him to kill you. He…

Oh. Wow.

“Now, what is it, you think, that made you so special in regards to that woman you found me with? What is it, love? What do you believe kept me from ending your life to sustain my own?” And goddamn does it feel good to finally say it. Sunghoon loves the feeling of the words coming out of his mouth, finally spilling it all to you and seeing you only react with cheeky curiosity. 

“Why is that? Can you tell me?”

You’re silent as you think of his questions, unable to answer at all.  

“No…” You breathe out, knowing he can feel the hot breath against him only because his hand squeezes your waist. 

“I suppose after how long I’ve wandered this earth, even I am left with curiosities and questions too.” He smiles when he says it, thankful to know he hasn’t yet experienced everything there is. “I’d like to know why you have this hold on me too, darling.”

“Maybe it’s because I want it?” 

“Perhaps, yes. If you didn’t I likely would have savored every ounce of you already and for that, I should be thankful.” 

He shifts now, pressing you down against your bed and hovering over you with dark and sparkling eyes. His lips immediately go to your neck with the hunger he feels. Talking isn’t enough anymore. Holding you isn’t enough. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the fact that he could hold off even until now is strange to him. 

“Unlike many, you do not seek death–” He drags his lips against your skin, relishing in it. “You exist alongside it happily, you welcome it.” He continues to talk, his teeth now retracting against your skin and leaving little swollen scratches with each drag. “Perhaps had I not chosen to be a priest during this lifetime, you’d have already said yes.” 

“A singer? A dancer? Anything you wish for, I’ll become.” He smiles when he feels the goosebumps plump up under his teeth, and it’s so, so, hard not to bite. “So, won’t you stay? “

He listens so closely to your heart and breathing, nearly moaning at the need for it. 

“Watching you wither to death by anything other than my own teeth would surely have me seekinga dogwood.” 

Ah, so the fantasy movies and novels aren’t all wrong? So strange, truly, that he lives in a cathedral of crosses made from the very wood that could kill him. 

“We could be anything, go anywhere, dine on meals you merely taste but never need.”

He nods his head against your skin, hoping you’ll nod along with him, knowing that you will. 

“You could be mine, forever.” 

You’ve accepted him already, you just haven’t said so yet. He doesn’t mind sweet talking you though, reminding you of everything he can and will provide.

And to you, every single word he mutters is pretty, and everything you could ever need or want is right here. 

“I could be yours, forever.”

“I think–” You breathe out, hands now reaching up to scratch through his hair. “there is nothing I could want more than this.”

And the moment he gets that final word of confirmation out to you, he bites. The words you mutter drive him to it. He couldn’t even kiss you in appreciation simply because his instinct takes over. He lets go. 

Finally, he can let go. 

The need to control himself is no longer here, and it feels astounding. 

The sting is deep and it rings within you so loudly that you could hear the puncture vibrate your brain. Your ears burn at the direct puncture, and already you can feel his hands bracing you through it. As if he knows he’s never bitten you so deep in your pulse point like this. 

But the intention behind it somehow feels better than anything you’ve ever experienced. This is what you were jealous of and now you can only agree with your past self. There was good reason to be jealous of feeling this from him. Except, unlike that woman, he’s holding you through it. He’s grunting against your neck and swallowing large portions of your blood as the seconds pass. Losing himself with you. Almost as if he’s dying with you.

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, to the point your toes are feeling the sleep overtake them, then your legs, all the way up and down your body until your fingers are too weak to keep gripping against the locks of hair on the back of his neck.

You feel his fingers soothe you through the weakness when he pulls back, keeping his promise of not wasting a single drop. There is no blood smeared on him, only a trace of it on his inner lips as he watches your weakened expressions. 

He isn’t intentionally draining you so quickly, but…fuck. The blood. That glorious scent and taste was already too much to bear, but now? Knowing he gets all of it save for the best and final sip? He genuinely can’t help it. Controlling himself now after how long he’s held back? 

Darling, you asked for this. 

And his body reacts in aroused euphoria. Already he feels an orgasm bubble up just witnessing you die for him. Even then, he barely feels the heightened pleasure because the mind, dead or not, simply cannot comprehend the pure potent pleasure he’s experiencing.

He spills out all over himself, while you spill out for him. Your life, your very being. 

How can he not be terribly, horrifyingly, utterly stupendously in love with you? 

“My love, the light in your eyes will come back soon.” He smiles as he watches what happens to you through this, and then throws his head back in manic pleasure with a deep and animalistic moan. Arguably, even his eyes hold more life than yours right now. 

So, so beautiful. 

You’re too weak to speak, but you shake your head. Nothing is a pain to lose, nothing except him. 

And you find comfort in the way he sinks his teeth right back into those puncture marks. Sucking more and more out of you with a content smile on his face. He doesn’t think he could ever feel happier, knowing you’re giving him everything, and he wants nothing more than to return the favor to you.

Oh, how he wishes it were you sucking the life out of his veins. You’d be so gentle, you’d look so pretty losing your mind like he is right now. 

You continue to feel your body grow numb, up to the point that your heart rate slows at the loss of blood. To the point you can tell he’s sucking harder and harder just to get more. You feel a weight shift inside of your body, it writhes and chokes every inch of your innards. 

Shrivelling, spiraling, cramping. 

If you could curl in on yourself right now, you would, but you’re too weak even for that. You can’t even twitch a finger against Sunghoon at this moment as you feel everything within you dehydrate and search for life. 

It hurts. 

Badly. So badly that at this moment, you can’t remember a single thing that has ever felt good. In fact, everything is painful. Life is painful and horrifyingly full of things that will hurt you. But–Sunghoon is here. That much, you still recognize. Even through the pain, and even through the twisting inside of you, he remains constant. He’s soothing you through it well past the comprehension of your dying brain. 

You can’t shiver at the loss of warmth, but you do try to take a breath. Working your weak body to near exhaustion just at the act of trying to expand your lungs. And oh, you can’t even open your eyes at the way the last breath doesn’t come. You must have lost it already. 

And then, darkness. 

Nothing. 

And it feels like this for an eternity. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to fear or love. 

Absolutely fucking nothing. And to think humanity has built governments off promised afterlifes? To think anything ever mattered in the first place? The emptiness soothes and relieves your still working soul, wisping in the darkness for eternities more it seems. 

To the point names and faces leave you, and all you can think, feel, or hear is that of unfilled space and pure, deafening, silence. You cannot feel content, or peace, or happiness here. You just feel nothing. And it truly feels good to be nothing. 

Until there's warmth. You feel it somewhere hugging you, or perhaps inside of you? Do you even have a body to hold warmth now within this vast void of darkness? Why do you hear…?

Feelings come back to you tenfold. Seemingly experiencing everything you’ve ever felt and lived through all at once. That deafening silence becomes louder, louder, louder, until– it flourishes in the pit of your belly.

So much chaos within you. Swirling and bubbling in such a way that it fucking blooms in this darkness. You feel like you’re burning, freezing, dying, living, fucking drowning all at once. 

That flourish forces the nothingness out of you. As comfortable as this place is, there is nothing and you want something. You need something. You crave…something.

A little dribble running down your throat leaving a trail of warm, blooming heat. As if you just swallowed a sun-ray itself. Only now can you feel your body again enough to know where the heat is coming from. It blossoms within you, increasing each sense within your body tenfold. 

It doesn’t hurt. 

Only now do you recognize that it’s silent again, as if you were slammed into a wall by the force of the god you now know does not exist. You feel yourself restrict under skin, you feel cold, you feel…heavy. 

And the silence is still too loud to be so restricted. You miss the sounds of what you must have unintentionally listened to every waking moment of your life. The only true soundtrack of a living, loving, and heat-radiating being. 

No heart-beat. No whirring of blood. No rumbling in your stomach. Nothing.

And yet still, it doesn’t hurt. 

Just a bouquet in the pits in your belly. Your precious life, all summed up in that single diluted sip of blood. 

And somehow, someway, you regain your strength faster than it took for you to lose it. You open your eyes on instinct and the world is glowing. Sunghoon is glowing. As lifeless as you are, and as empty as your brain is at this moment, you reach out to him immediately.

But he has yet to let go of you since all of this started. He stayed. He held you, just like he said he would. 

“Did it hurt badly?” Sunghoon calls out to you, helping your mind awaken again. 

He barely remembers the pain he went through when it happened to him. Truly, pain is so temporary, so meaningless to indulge but, the curiosity still sits with him. 

After watching you for upwards of two hours to both die and come back to life, he can’t help but wonder if it was anything like what he experienced. 

Even with that curiosity though, seeing you open your eyes for the first time in your new life fills Sunghoon with overwhelming glee. To the point he feels like a child, wanting to ask so many questions, thoughts shifting from this, to that, up until all his thoughts run together and all he can do is squeeze you in his grasp. 

He’d have pulled down the stars if he could just so it could be your first view of the afterlife with him. But alas, he couldn’t step away even for a moment. He needed to be with you, not just for your sake, but his own. 

You’re cold now, but oh, the blood within him could satiate him for hundreds of years. It’s gone from you now, and he fears not missing it. Not when you’re here. Not when you chose to be here with him. 

You weakly nod to him, amazed at being able to do it again. Already the pain you’d previously felt feels like a long lost memory as you stare back at him. 

“I’m sorry.” He smiles through the apology, unable to pretend he means the words at all. “I didn’t intend to drain you so quickly. My poor love, you must have felt miserable.” 

You nod again, feeling him so tightly against you.

Only just realizing that he’s holding you. Your body, it’s coming back to you. You can feel sensations again. 

“I feel–” Your voice cracks with a dry throat and you inhale.

On instinct, you try to exhale but your throat just gets drier and drier. 

“I–”

Sunghoon coos, shushing you with a gentle kiss. Lending you his own saliva because if there’s one thing he can remember, it’s the act of learning how to…not breathe. 

“Slowly, love, slowly.” He smiles when he pulls back, watching you swallow around his gift and instantly droop your eyes again. 

“You’ve only just died and you have all the time in this world to speak, no need to do it now.” 

And he’s right. You’re spinning, yet balanced. Fuzzy yet smooth. You are everything and nothing at this moment with your glowing after-death aroma. Sunghoon smiles, cradling the back of your head. 

Finally, he’s gotten to drink you in full. No true death, and he feels more elated than he ever expected. Almost lulled to sleep at the scent of you disappearing. Never will he taste your blood again, but you. He has you now. Knowing you had a taste at all is enough. Knowing that he has broken for you enough to beg you.

To beg you to die for him just to be with him on a level deeper than thirst. 

Never once has he wanted someone like this.

And never once had he expected you to agree with him. 

The moment is sweet with him, and still you’ve yet to comprehend the truth reality of your life now. You know at least, that it could take longer than you’d have had previously to figure it out. You did this to be with someone, and that someone is right here next to you. Smiling, clinging, seemingly ecstatic to know he’s no longer alone. 

A forever companion, truly this time. 

And as sweet as the moment is, time still moves even after becoming ageless. 

“The sun will rise soon,” Sunghoon hums at your reluctant gaze at the window. “Shall we go home?”

You would nod. Truly, you would, if it weren’t for that suffocating scent entering your nose. 

Roses? No, tulips?

Lavender? 

Your belly pangs, a dry and itchy feeling overtaking your entire being. To the point that Sunghoon clinging to you can’t even calm the itch. The world stops at the scent, so strong and sweet. 

Sunghoon smells it too though, and he knows. He’s experienced it time and time again, though he’s long since learned how to control it, clearly. He purses his lips in frustration. You’ve only just come back, and he’d very much like to get you home with him so that you can learn and grow accustomed to this life. You need to realize that you haven’t even experienced the hardest part yet. 

Disappearing. 

After all, his intention was to hunt for you, teach you, comfort you. There’s so much to do now that the deed is done, and he hadn’t prepared for interruptions such as this.

Unfortunately, he knows very well the thirst. You won’t be able to control it, especially considering he knows this scent too. He has to force himself to try and lend you alluring words, but they seem to go through one ear and out the other. 

Your brain is empty at the scent. 

“Ah, what a turn of events.” He tics his tongue with a smile. “I smell him too.”

Your eyes do not reach Sunghoon at all, but he understands. Even with the jealousy in his gut. 

A key clicking into a lock, a turn of the knob. The sound is amplified in your ears along with the scent. 

“Wake up and help me unload all this shit!” 

Oh, what a shame. 

You really loved Jungwon. 

“Can you smell it flowing through him?” Sunghoon smiles at the light in your eye now, endeared by the way scent ignites you entirely. As envious of Jungwon as he is to hold certain parts of you when he couldn’t do it himself, seeing the way you react arouses him beyond belief. 

Your first feeling of thirst. 

“Shall I greet him?” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jungwon peers at the stoic figure that appeared from your bedroom. His first thought is that he’s going to kick your fucking ass because number one, this better not be who he thinks it is. And number two–

There is no number two. A mere three seconds after stepping into his new home with you, his mind goes fuzzy. Thinking only of you, of needing to see you, of needing to make sure you’re okay. 

He wants to know if you slept well, and if you were able to have any sweet dreams without him here. 

“Jungwon, I take it?” Sunghoon lends him a lively smile, impressed by the pull you unintentionally lay on the guy. 

“Ah, yeah.” Jungwon weakly scratches the back of his neck before feeling his body move on its own. “Where is she? I need to see her.” 

It’s a pity, really, but Sunghoon has seen it time and time again with his own victims. A weak mind, one that is easily broken and even easier to lure. It’s kind of cute really, seeing how breathing humans cling to what balances them. 

He almost feels bad for taking you from Jungwon, but he doesn't only because he hates that he has to see you drink from someone you were attached to. He knows it’ll hurt you when you realize, and he no longer wants to see you hurt after witnessing your death.

As beautiful as it was. 

Jungwon truly chases you, stepping through the apartment and dropping everything in his hands without care. He heads straight to your room, swallowed in a somber smile and a welcome scent. One that he doesn’t know is death.

“Wonnie.” You rasp sweetly. “Come here.” 

There’s no reluctance within him, even upon hearing Sunghoon close the door behind him and lock it. Even when the man looms at the door, watching, narrowing his eyes at you in jealousy. 

You ignore it as you grow enamored with Jungwon at this moment. Is this what his life smells like? So pretty, it truly fits him. 

And it drowns out all of your thoughts. The flowers, like a fresh spring day with no worry. You think it’s your favorite smell in the world as you inhale him with each step he takes toward you. 

For Jungwon, even upon feeling you grip his shirt, pulling him closer than he’s ever been to you without the excuse of comfort, he pays no mind. He missed this bubble he shared with you, the single night with his sister almost felt like agony to be away from you.

After all, the love he holds for you is truly deeper than romance. There is no need for any physicality between the two of you, yet…he welcomes it at this moment. In fact, he’s entirely aroused, stiffening in his pants at the sheer blissful anxiety your uncanny smile and shining eyes lend to him. 

Did you truly miss him so much? 

“You look so pretty…” He trails off, closing his eyes as he feels you caress his warm cheeks. “Your hands are so cold, let me—ah” 

You’ve never felt an instinct quite like this. You could truly hear it, the pulse of his heart. You can still smell his sweet scent, and you truly weren’t in control of your own body when you gripped him, lifted, and sank your teeth right against his pulse point. 

Jungwon moans at the bite, drifting off entirely at first contact. 

All while Sunghoon continues to loom. Watching with weight in his pants. The way you bite so messily, spilling blood and wasting it as it trickles down Jungwon’s throat. The small sounds your mouth makes as you suck has him throbbing non-stop, to the point he almost needs to hold onto something just to keep from jumping on you, just to keep from tasting Jungwon himself.

And, oh, his pretty love, you have so much to adapt to. 

It appears he does as well. 

As he watches the furrow of your brows at the first taste falling to that of relief and pleasure as you drink, and you drink, and you drink, until–

Sunghoon smirks now, quirking his brow at how you stop yourself before he needs to step in and separate the two of you. In all honesty, he was unsure if he’d be able to give in and stop you either. After all, killing Jungwon now would prove easier than letting him live.

The fact that you stopped yourself though. Perhaps your mind grew more stubborn and strong-willed through death. He nearly cannot believe that you aren’t draining the man dry right now. 

And you aren’t even sure yourself why you do. The feeling in your gut is full and satiated, but the grip Jungwon has on you only grows more and more limp. You love the way he clings as much as the taste, and even through his slumber, he clinged so tight. 

Not so much now though, and that scared you. So, you let go. 

If only because truly, you do love Jungwon. Enough to no longer pull him into your messes despite forcing him to become one at this moment. What’s even more scary is though, even with all of the endearment you held towards him in life, the feeling is only amplified now. These new bitter and floral scents pulsing through him makes you want to protect him from any leech wanting to drink it out of him.

Even if you’re the leech. 

Ah, he tasted like honey suckle, and it dropped down your throat like honey too. Warm, gentle, pretty. Just like him. 

And you have to continue to keep yourself from sinking your teeth into him. Your stomach is greedy, wanting more, but too in love with the life he has and willingly wanted to share with you as a best friend and forever comfort. 

Forever for Jungwon is nothing but a moment to you now, but it’s one you hope he enjoys, at least. 

And when you hold him against you, so weak and sound asleep, you look at Sunghoon. The tears fall so, so, cold against your cheeks. The heightened senses within you become overwhelming with the horrifying silence and intense smell of floral blood wafting through your nose. 

“Much like you, he won’t remember. You lured him deeply, love, did you know that? He was asleep from the moment he saw you.” 

You pause, nodding as the tears continue to fall. 

“Brilliant.” He compliments now, moving to hold you as you cling to Jungwon. 

“Sunghoon, did my blood taste like that?” 

Sunghoon kisses you once, sucking Jungwon’s blood from your tongue. 

“Ah,” He chokes. “Absolutely not.”

You pause at his scrunched nose. 

“You were much sweeter.” He whispers sweetly, fondly, tilting his head to kiss against you again, licking the mess of Jungwon’s blood from your lips, chin, and neck. Still, he chokes it down. “I’ll miss it.”

“What did it taste like?” Your weak and dry voice falters repeatedly, but you need to speak right now.

“You tell me.” 

You only slightly remember the flavor as you were brought back. Warm, blooming, spicy, sickeningly sweet. 

“I have never tasted anything compared to it…” 

“Exactly.” Sunghoon smiles, inhaling deeply and lending no breath against your skin when he scrapes his teeth there. “Like the sun.” He hums, nosing down to your neck and inhaling again, arms only slightly trying to push Jungwon out of your grasp. “Like the one thing that could get me killed.” 

You cling tightly to your best friend though, not wanting any more harm to come to him. Still, you stare at Sunghoon’s sweet words, finding yourself smiling at all that is to be gained rather than lost. 

Your life. The light outside, the light in your eyes, the warmth. 

Not Jungwon though. 

“You don’t intend to leave him be, no?” Sunghoon furrows a brow at how your face rises for him, but falls instantly at inhaling Jungwon’s blood. 

You frantically shake your head. 

“We’ll figure something out, love.” He says now, looking away from you and doing his best to ignore the envy that fills him time and time again when this floral-boy is near. 

He told you he’d do anything for you, give anything to you. 

If that includes Jungwon….

Ah, always so fucking stubborn. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun rises and falls. 

Repeatedly, for months. 

Jungwon wakes himself with the warm sun hitting his face, the bed just as warm from his own body heat. He loves this space, and adores the way that even if it’s only him, he never feels lonely with that pretty smell in the air. 

Every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he goes to bed.

The shock of learning the inevitable still hurts him from time to time, but still, he smiles with that dimple you threatened you’d steal right off his face if he chose not to show it to you. 

His hand reaches to his neck, the single wound you gave him and apologized profusely for after. It’s healed well.

And when his phone vibrates in the middle of the day, he wonders why you’re awake. 

You: wonnie

Wonnie: wat

You: come over

Wonnie: was wondering why you were trying so hard. nearly suffocated this morning. 

You: and you were fighting it? asshole

Wonnie: be over in a few, stinky

And as strange as it is, Sunghoon doesn’t mind that you wouldn’t let Jungwon go. After several conversations needing reassurance that you’re not trying to spend your forever elsewhere, anyway.

Really, to think you’d die for him but want someone else? Sunghoon truly is insane, but so are you. 

And it works. 

Because Jungwon loves insanity, even if he hates Sunghoon with a passion. Even if he can only see you with Sunghoon in the room too. Even if you’re dead. 

You’re still his best friend, and he doesn’t mind helping you disappear as long as it’s not from him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

not me accidentally making this a sunghoon ft.jungwon fic. 

Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[sexysadie23]

The Old Boys Club | Rafe Cameron

Author’s Note: Hiii! This is depraved. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. You are responsible for your own media consumption. I was watching The Batman and I loved the aesthetic of The Iceberg Lounge so that was the inspiration, alongside a Selina Kyle-esque waitress. Please enjoy. A Part 2 is possible :)

Tags: innocent!reader x older!rafe, CEO!Rafe, sleazy!JJ, sleazy!Kelce, sleazy!Topper, naive!reader, smallchested!reader, wife!reader, pre-established relationship, daddy kink

Warnings : I mentioned reader having a small chest, Highly misogynistic behaviour, mentions of alcohol, drugs and sex, corruption kink, minor bondage, unwanted adultery ig??

The lights were red and flashing, one blink after the other, blinding you for a millisecond when the flits of darkness overcame the haze of smoke and ignorance. The warehouse-turned-nightclub had so many people in it, too many, that there was no room for air. Each one surrendering themselves to the night. To the shadows which protected their guilty pleasures with a vengeance, hiding them from the shame that came with exposure.

Smoking, drinking, alcohol, drugs, sex. It was all blurred together into one unfocused scene where bodies became one and nobody cared for anything. Looking around at the mass of bodies and addictions, you realised why they clutched to the latter. For without them, the room would be unbearable.

You’d never understood the experience. Going to night clubs and staying out all night had never been on your radar, especially not with your conservative mother. She liked you in your room, cozied up with a book and tea.

That was all you had ever known. And it was something you came to enjoy. In college you were never the wild party girl, always too uncertain to feel safe at the scene. The rules your mother had set clung to you like a vine.

But that’s what he liked about you most. He’d had his days of partying to the point where he couldn’t remember his own name. He’d slept with the drunk girls who he’d regret afterwards every time. He’d done every drug under the sun. So when Rafe Cameron saw you, the sheltered, naive little doe that didn’t speak until spoken to - he was dazzled by what he saw - an opportunity.

That was unknown to you though. Rafe Cameron came into your life like a wrecking ball. A tall, strong, successful and welcomed wrecking ball. One that had you kept, that protected you and never left you wanting. You were wholly fulfilled now that you had met your soulmate, who worked day and night to provide a lifestyle that according to him, was everything you could need.

He’d been at the office since the early hours of the morning, too early for you to cook his breakfast and kiss him goodbye. It was a Friday night though which meant that straight after work, he went to Interlude. A lounge and nightclub that housed the city’s most notorious mob bosses. You hadn’t, and didn’t expect to see him until the morning.

That’s why you were surprised that his assistant called you, mid baking cookies, informing you that your husband wanted you to pay him a visit at the lounge tonight.

The request was odd, truly out of character. Rafe had laid down some ground rules, guidelines as he dubbed them - which you willingly obliged, and one of them was no alcohol, no drugs and no clubs. You could go to parties as long as he was in attendance.

Was this a test? You wondered for a second. But another rule was to trust and listen to Rafe. You figured it was better to go and find out than not go at all. Besides, you missed him already and it had been less than 24 hours since he was inside of you.

You got changed from your nightie into something more appropriate for leaving the house. You dawned a casual pink sundress, and slipped a black bow around your hair. Rafe preferred you in the feminine, and you’d come to enjoy it. You looked at your walk in closet and saw only flats. Another rule: No heels whatsoever. (He liked how small you looked beside him). You brought a jacket just in case. Having never been to a club, you didn’t no if it would be cold or not.

Yet when you made the distance from Rafe’s private driver into the club, it was then that you could feel the heat which controlled the room. It seeped into your skin and your lungs and you then decided that bringing a coat was a bad idea.

The lights continued to blind you until you saw someone, a waitress who was wearing a pink wig and, well, barely anything else by the looks of her diamante bra and mini skirt - which was more like a belt. You all of a sudden felt ridiculous in your sundress and became aware of how every woman in here was wearing sultry fabrics barely concealing their skin. Whereas you looked like you were ready for a picnic. These were the women Rafe saw on a regular basis?

The waitress’s eyes flitted toward your lost looking figure - doe eyes taking up half your face as your expression gave away that you were both scared and lost. They’d eat you up if you didn’t find who you were looking for. Lord knows you weren’t here for fun, that much the waitress could tell.

You could see her bejewelled heels clacking in your direction and you looked up to meet her eyes.

“You lost sweetie?” She asked, cocking her hip against the empty tray she held. Up close, you could see her bra stuffed with wads of cash.

“Um- yeah. I’m looking for someone. Do you know a-“ though you were cut off as a bunch of rowdy men in suits shoved you as they made their way through. You shrunk in on yourself while the waitress glared at the men. She smoky gaze returned to you,

“Sorry sugar. Guys in here can get carried away. Who d’ya need?”

You exhaled slowly before speaking again. “I’m looking for a business man. My husband. Rafe? Rafe Cameron? He told me to - to come here but I’ve been looking for 30 minutes and can’t see him.”

At the mention of the name Rafe Cameron, the waitress’ eyes dawned a screen of something. Something intangible. Like she all of a sudden knew something. She looked you up and down once more and nodded.

“Yeah I know him. He’s like our most important customer. You won’t find him in here though.” She nodded smugly as she looked over the balcony into the crowd.

You looked with her, disappointed. “Oh. Well do-“ you increased your volume, speaking over the club anthems and tilted your head up as she crouched to hear you better, “-do you know where I could find him, please?”

The waitress smirked and rolled her eyes. Of course Rafe married the girl next door type. You seemed sickeningly sweet. “Sure sweets. He’s in Havoc.”

At your confused reaction, she elaborated. “You know, the club within the club? It’s downstairs. Through those doors. Password is ‘10th Circle’. Say you’re with Rafe, and they’ll take you to’m.” She points you to a set of steel doors lined with 2 bodyguards.

You thanked her as she sashayed away. You approached the doors and the bodyguards looked you up and down - and laughed to one another. “No way, baby. VIPs only.”

You just wanted to see your husband. “10th Circle. I’m with- I am Rafe Cameron’s wife. He invited me.” You say holding up your phone to show your screensaver of you and Rafe at your small, intimate wedding. “See?”

The guards looked at each other with suspicion. Having the password must be enough though, because they opened the doors without any qualms. You heard something just before the slam of the seal shut. “Did you know he was married?”

You went down the stairs which was less crowded, but more sinful already. On the stairwell you passed men wearing suits whispering in women’s ears. Women who were blackout drunk, or close to it. Women who were being handed hundreds of dollars wearing fur coats and nothing underneath. Some of which looked to be enjoying it and some of them scared. You immediately felt unsafe.

You were cautious as you walked through; shoulders hunched as you tried not bumping into anyone, making yourself as unnoticeable as possible. Your out of place attire made that somewhat difficult. But then you were grateful, because finally someone, the one, recognised you.

“Fuck, here she is- Baby! I’m here!” Your husband shouted from a secluded corner. He was surrounded by other men, one with a girl on their arms. You recognised a few of them as being his associates. Topper and Kelce and JJ in particular.

You could tell he wasn’t drunk thankfully. None of them were as they focused on playing their card games. “Hi.” You said, not raising your voice for anyone else to hear. The music was much less quiet than the chaos of upstairs, much to your gratitude.

He grinned, pulling you towards his seated form, in between his manspread. “There you are, bunny. What took you so long?” You took his hand to intertwine your fingers with his, having missed his touch.

“Got lost, I thought you were upstairs but a nice lady helped me.” You said, basking in your husband’s gaze. “Aw honey. You hear that fellas? Lil bunny here got lost tryna’ find me.”

His friends laughed as they sifted through their cards. One sitting beside Rafe, JJ, looked up and took out his cigarette- effectively blowing it in your face. “Poor girl. You miss your husband, doll?”

Rafe barked out a laugh but you were distracted by lightly coughing out the smoke directed into your airways. “Of course she did man, can’t go more than a few hours without rubbing up on me. It’s like she’s an addict or something.”

You frowned once more. Why was he acting like this? Sure he’s usually controlling and has a more…masculine sense of humour. You usually didn’t mind, yet now you felt like everyone knew something you didn’t. But you supposed he wasn’t wrong. You weren’t ashamed to say that you loved your husband, that you needed him.

“Huh Bunny baby? You miss me? Who’d you miss?” His friends laughed a chorus of stifled chitters and some even “oohed”. Rafe squeezed your thigh, and you knew what he wanted.

“I missed you…” you looked around at his friends who waited for you avidly. Patiently. You felt like a fish in a fish-tank. “Daddy.” The private nickname had officially made its debut. You were embarrassed, but also more embarrassed by JJ who was now staring at your tits.

Rafe grinned which made you breathe a little lighter, your joints a little less coiled. He yanked you down to sit atop his leg, your own surrounding his right knee. His eyes flitted in amusement to his posse, “See that boys? Bet none of you got a bitch at home calling you that.”

“Nah, my girlfriend just told me the other day she doesn’t want kids. Like, what’s the point of us staying together then? Only thing a woman’s good for after all.” Said Kelce, with some large chested girl on his arm licking his ear. She laughed, along with Rafe and company, at his crude joke, which you found far from funny. “Well, maybe not the only thing,” he uttered before her hand gripped his knee.

“You gonna dump her then?” Asked Topper, Rafe’s CFO, who tilted his head as he assessed your legs. Your freshly shaved, shiny, short legs.

“Don’t know. She gives good head, so that’s definitely a factor. Maybe I should keep her around and until I try to find my future wife on the side, you know?” Kelce said taking a smoke of his cigarette. “What do you think?” He jutted his chin across the space to you.

In a weird synchronicity, everyone turned their heads to you, awaiting your input. There was a metaphysical spotlight on you and you tightened your hold on Rafe’s hand. He started to kiss up and down your ear, which was not helping how distracted you were.

“Um- maybe you could give her a chance? If you really like her enough to have her as your girlfriend it might be worth it to talk…with her.” You slowed, immediately regretting speaking at all as each man started to smirk and look at one another again.

“Jesus Rafe, where’d you even find this girl?She’s so…cute.” Settled Topper. You thought he was handsome, but nobody could compare to your husband. Rafe simply shrugged and chuckled in your ear before returning to his perusal. “Some dump she needed rescued from.”

Kelce sighed. “Why’d I even ask a chick? Not like they know anything. It’s either dumb, or dumber.”

You could hear Rafe huff out a laugh. “True. There’s nothing up here,” he tapped your temples, “except my name.”

You turned to ask him why he was acting like this. So not the sweet, protective Rafe you knew, “Raf-m!” Cut off, by Rafe shoving his tongue down your throat. You were stunned before you responded, avidly with passion.

At least one thing hadn’t changed about your husband, he still kissed you with the same enthusiasm. Perhaps, with even more than normal. When he eventually pulled away, you whined and your lips traced after him - uncaring of who was watching.

“That’s one way to shut em’ up when they get uppity. And that ain’t what you call me bun. How many times am I gonna have to remind you tonight? Cmon, use your head for once. Know it’s in there somewhere.” He held an intense eye contact with you.

“Give her a break, Cameron. She might need a minute.” Kelce slapped Topper’s shoulder as they both looked to you.

“Daddy…” You whined, then hid your face in your chest out of embarrassment. Rafe said that it wasn’t something you should call him in public, yet here he was. All gorgeous in his suit with his collar popped and tie loosened, commanding you as though you were in the bedroom back home.

The only indication that he was not mad at you was the pet names he bestowed upon you, ‘Bunny’ and ‘angel’ being your favourites. “Aw honey, Daddy’s just joking. Y’know you’re my best girl. Huh?” He felt you smile into his chest. “Huh?” He bounced his knee, digging into your pussy, and you nodded. You could feel your body clench.

“Rafe’s chick might have a point though Kelc. Maybe you should keep the broad around. She’ll probably change her mind about having kids.” Voiced JJ, whose eyes continually checked out your cleavage.

Rafe piped up as he massaged your scalp from the way you hid in his chest. “Yeah, girls hardly ever know what they want until we decide for them anyways. Plus, you’d have the kids and still get to keep the good head,”

“I mean look at Bunny here, she thought she was gonna be a nurse or something fore’ I came in. Only cost me two dozen or so grand to pay off her student debt and convince her to drop out n’ marry me.”

Every time Rafe brings that up you feel a sense of guilt. That was sooo much money. Maybe not to a multi-millionaire like him. But to small town you, it was everything. “Thank you, daddy.” In response, a kiss on the cheek.

Topper sat up, “Can you blame her? She’d be a good slutty nurse. Waiting on you hand and foot. There’s a halloween costume idea right there.”

Rafe turned to them, “As if she doesn’t already do that. Little girl knows where she belongs.” You didn’t have time to be confused as the sound and pain of Rafe roughly slapping your upper thigh sounded throughout the secluded corner. Your pussy wettened, and you wished you weren’t wearing thin underwear.

JJ, ever so wise with a big mouth JJ, had some advice. “Well the way I see it Kelce, you have options.”

“Uh-huh. And they are?”

“You could always switch out her birth control. Then she’s pregnant in no time and it won’t look like your fault, so she can’t be mad. Plus, chicks’ tits get bigger when pregnant. S’a win-win.” You couldn’t believe how awful the things that were coming out of these men’s mouths were. Were they always like this outside of work? Was Rafe like this outside of your marriage?

“You let your girl on birth control Kelc? Why?” Topper asked, genuinely perplexed at the notion of a woman controlling her own body.

“She had a whole bitchfit about it. Saying shit like how it helps her period pain and let’s her decide when she can have a baby or whatever. I don’t get it.”

They continued to drink and chat. “Hold on bunny baby,” Rafe shifted you side ways in his lap now so that your legs were fully facing JJ on his left. There wasn’t much room so JJ put your feet and calves atop his thigh, across his lap. You felt too shy to say no or remove them, and this genuinely was more comfortable.

Rafe noticed, but you didn’t, with all the shifting that your dress had twisted and was alarmingly close to revealing your underwear. You put your hands around Rafe’s neck and leaned in.

“Can I have a drink please? I’m thirsty.” You whispered in his ear. You were parched. Between the heat of the room and the heat building in your core you needed something to ground you.

Rafe smiled. “Sure. Hey,” he clicked his fingers at the girl on Kelce’s arm. “Double time. Vodka.” She left the area with haste.

“But Daddy- I wanted…you said I’m not allowed to dr-“

“Didn’t look like he asked for your two cents, princess.” Said Topper with a bored expression as he thumbed the neck of his beer bottle. You frowned. The blonde was usually nice to you at business events and in Rafe’s office.

“You speak when you’re spoken to around daddy’s friends Baby. Remember? Or do you need a reminder?”

Your eyes widened at the last time you were given a ‘reminder’. “N-no. I’m sorry I’ll just…”

Though his attention diverted from you as the shot was passed to your hand. “Now I know you’re just a girl, sweetheart. And you’ve never done a shot before so listen carefully. Can you do that for us?” Asked Kelce as JJ played with your socks. The condescension was not noticed by you.

You looked to Rafe, who nodded. So you turned your head to Kelce, careful not to spill the drink.

“Kay. So this stuff is really icky. You gotta drink it fast and swallow fast. You’ve had plenty of practice, so I’ve heard.”

You ignore the last comment and nod, looking at the clear liquid with determination. This is your chance to prove that you are a big girl and can handle things like alcohol. People always made fun of you for not drinking in college, so you needed the victory, even if just for yourself.

“Here, pretty baby. I’ll do one with you, okay? Ready? Go.” Your daddy said. Though you didn’t say it, you were grateful that he was supporting you.

To say the taste was awful was an understatement. It wasn’t so much the taste as the fumes that made your throat feel like it was on fire. You coughed, a lot. So much for proving you were a big girl and not some inexperienced baby unlike the rest of the sensual women around.

“Fuck, look at her. You alright dollface?” The insulting nickname flew over your head as you scrunched your eyes, though you could be sure it was JJ’s voice. He squeezed your ankle in a somewhat comforting gesture, but you could hear the guys and the girl laugh at how pathetic you were.

“Wh-why would you let me try that!” Tears dribbled down your face. The key word being “let”, as the guys noted.

Rafe growled, and laughed. “Don’t be such a fucking baby. In fact-“ he put his whiskey up to your pouty lips and made you drink it before you could protest. Again, disgusting. You sputtered some of it out and it dribbled down your chin and throat.

“Think she needs a bib boys?” Top jested, reaching over to chuck you under your chin. Other than Rafe, he seemed like the strictest of all. They each roared a laugh and you realised you were the butt of the joke. The punchline.

You continued to sniffle and leak some tears, looking around at what this truly was. You were an animal in the circus, simply there for entertainment. “Daddy, please…” you whined, tightening your hold on Rafe in the search of comfort.

“Don’t be sad sugar. If it’s any consolation, you’re even sexier when you cry.” Said JJ, as he took off your shoes one by one. He left on your white ankle socks, which he now noticed had love-hearts all over them.

You whimpered at the statement. Your throat felt raw and the wicked taste of mixing alcohols lingered in your mouth.

You were hyper aware of how wet you were in that moment, and couldn’t decide if you were whimpering out of pain, embarrassment or lust. You used your core to bounce on Rafe’s leg, enough to feel something yet too little for anyone to notice.

Rafe kissed your chin where the whiskey spilled. “That’s top shelf liquor you just wasted.” He licked your lip, groaning at the taste.

“S-sorry. Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. I’ve never really drank before.” You could feel your cheeks blush. Rafe loved PDA, and it had taken you a while to adjust to it.

“Hmm, you gonna make it up to me?” He teased. His hand travelled up to your braless chest and groped you, right in front of his friends. What the hell was happening.

“I don’t know,” said Kelce, looking at where Rafe’s hand was pressing your nipple. “I’m a fan of big tits. Not to the point where they look ridiculous, but definitely not as small as sweetheart, here.”

The guys all sounded as though they were heavily contemplating Kelce’s “insightful” comment and they turned to your chest, whereas you? You were just plain insecure now. You knew you didn’t have the largest bust, but was it really so much a factor?

“You’d be surprised,” said Topper. “Big tits can get in the way.” He scoffed, then returned to look at yours with a lustful eye.

“True,” JJ nodded, “plus small tits are just…I don’t know. They look more youthful. Perky, y’know? Definitely my preference.”

Rafe huffed out a laugh. “Me too, clearly.” You looked at him with a grimace, then down to your chest. “I have a theory that they’re more sensitive, though.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you think that?” JJ had toyed with your socks to the point where he’d taken them off completely.

Rafe eyed him, then gazed at you intensely before devouring your mouth in a kiss. You were confused, was there some mental signal he just sent to his business partner? How did that suffice as an answ-

“MMph!” You squeaked into Rafe’s mouth as pain overcame you. Rafe just pinched your nipples, with as much force as his hands could. His strong, manly hands… You were positive that your underwear had gained a wet patch on it now. You were less embarrassed about that than as to why you felt turned on in the first place.

You withdrew from Rafe’s mouth to stare at him, eyebrows scrunched in a hurt expression. Why would he do that? You looked at his lips and suddenly became distracted again. With your low tolerance, the alcohol was seeping into your mind and your impulse control was going haywire.

So, you jumped his mouth. Your tongue swirled around his as you let out a soft moan. His hand moved to slide along your inner thigh, and you panicked, moving it away in front of your too-keen audience.

Rafe loved how eager you were sometimes. You fucked like a rabbit, and your nose twitched in your sleep. Hence the nickname.

“Please not-not in front of them!” You whispered.

“Don’t worry. All friends here.” Said Kelce. “Nothing we haven’t seen before,” seconded Topper, who gave you a crude wink. Kelce high fives him and you were confused as to what they were referring to. Though you didn’t get to focus on the thought as you felt heaving tapping on your cheek.

“What the fuck did I say about speaking when spoken too, huh baby? You too fucked dumb from last night to follow a simple instruction?” Rafe said, growing annoyed. Sure, you were embarrassed. But that was nowhere near as bad as stepping out of Rafe’s meticulously drawn line.

“I just- I don’t know why you’re doing this in front of them. Don’t they all have girlfriends?” You wondered. Topper was married. Kelce had a girlfriend. JJ was, well he definitely had a girl. It was just a different one every week.

Rafe kissed your forehead, and said in a voice that was too saccharine- “I do it,” another kiss, “because” and another “I can, sweetie.”

A laugh bubbled from your throat at you squirmed, feeling a feather light touch as JJ drew his finger nails from the soles of your feet to your leg. You kicked a little, and turned in shock at the sensation.

“Come to Papa J, dolly.” He ‘come hithered’ with his fingers. “S’okay. Right Rafe?”

You looked to your husband, wondering exactly what was going on. Rafe grinned with that glint in his eye. “She’s all yours Jayj, careful though.” He said cruelly, before widening his manspread with haste. Effectively, letting you fall through his lap straight onto the floor between his legs. You yelped at the sudden motion and the sudden pain blooming around your tailbone. You wanted to say something, but you hadn’t been spoken to.

You used Rafe’s knee to stand up, barefooted on the plush rug of the club within the club. Blood rushed to your head. How drunk were you? You were now aware of how short your dress was. You weren’t sure what to do now.

JJ’s eyes traversed your figure head to toe. From the bow in your hair to your white pedicure. He looked hungry, like he was on a hunt. Were you being hunted? Is that what this was? Poached even, willingly by your own husband?

You thought of your marriage, of all the times Rafe had been sweet and the times were he’d been, dark. Salaciously dark. You knew they’d passed around ‘girls’ in the past, but just in the sense of sharing strippers. You were his wife. And JJ was his friend. They all were. Regardless of these mindless facts, you now knew who they were. Sleazebag playboys that objectify women. That use them.

And Rafe, your protector, was just going to throw you into the lion’s den with one of them?

Unless…you realised, looking at Rafe as he nodded for you to go towards his business partner, that your husband was one of them. That this whole time, your marriage had been the lion’s den.

You just didn’t know it until tonight.

Author’s Note: Let me know what you thought of this!

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (VI)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your marriage is slowly getting better and more intimate as you become the Dark Lady of Mordor and you have the Orcs' respect. While dealing with the aftermath of your conquest alongside your husband, you meet a very special prisoner – your lover who has finally returned.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The longest chapter so far but I didn't want to divide it in two separate ones because this fic is already getting longer than I wanted it to be (I suspected this moment of the show would happen in like chapter 3 lmao 🤡). As I have promised, there is finally a reunion between Sauron and the Reader. 💕

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship, every trigger from S02E01 (death of the people imprisoned by the Orcs etc.), it is mentioned that the Reader is lowkey scared (?) of Sauron's anger sometimes, which might imply some sort of domestic violence in their past + mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut)

WORD COUNT — 8,260

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (VI)

You were sitting by the long table full of wine and food that had been found in the cellars of the human villages nearby as the Orcs and the men who had chosen to follow you were partying and celebrating their new home. At least the Orcs looked truly excited about it because the humans were smiling much less and you just knew that most of them were only there to save their own lives. But that was not something you wanted to worry about now. You earned your rest, so you were just sitting next to your husband and picking on the grapes on the plate in front of you with your new sword resting on the chair. You kept glancing at it, proudly.

You focused on the song in Black Speech that the Orcs were singing and you furrowed your brows, understanding only a few words. The speech was not difficult to learn so you already could recognise a few phrases but still, it felt not enough.

“Will you teach me the Black Speech, too?” You asked your husband and Adar didn’t react at first but then he turned his head around to meet your gaze as if he was surprised to hear your question.

You cracked a smile at him. It was not only him who was perceiving you differently now but you were seeing him in a new light as well. He was making you feel powerful and in charge but his very presence was also ensuring your safety and taking some responsibility off of your shoulders. And the more he could teach you, the more useful you would be to Sauron later.

“If that is your wish, my Lady,” Adar nodded at you and reached his hand out for one of the grapes as well but you grasped it delicately, making him look surprised again.

“I have something for you,” you batted your eyelashes at him and smiled shyly as he furrowed his brows. You moved one of your hands lower and showed him the leaves from the holy trees that you had been hiding inside your sleeve. “I picked them earlier today in Ostirith,” you explained.

“What for?” Adar asked and perhaps his question was a little hurtful but the voice remained soft.

“We were wed under these trees. I thought it would mean something to you. Forgive me, my Lord…” You took your hands away and hid them underneath the table, squeezing the leaves and looking down.

Adar lifted your chin up with his thumb and made you look into his eyes. They were filled with adoration once again just like earlier on that day after realising you had truly finished his task and brought doom to your homeland.

“It does. I had no idea it meant anything to you,” he confessed and let go of your chin to open the palm of his hand in front of you. With a smile, you placed some of the leaves there and he clenched his fist to take them. “Thank you,” he whispered in Quenya. 

You nodded at him and dared to reach your free hand out to caress his cheek gently, brushing a strand of his black hair behind his ear. He was pretty startled but did not flinch.

“How long have you endured without anyone’s kind and gentle touch before me?” You asked, wondering out loud.

“A touch like this comes from a blurry memory of a long time ago, in a different life,” Adar whispered. “I had a different name then, too.”

“What was it?” You asked, curiously.

“It does not matter. Adar is my name and your husband. That man I once was is a stranger to you, my Lady. He should not concern you,” he explained and you smiled sadly.

“He had to be quite special to be chosen by Morgoth,” you whispered but Adar chuckled as he shook his head. “No?”

“No,” he answered. “Not special. Just a fool.”

You removed your hand from his cheek slowly and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I am exhausted,” you announced. The nap you had in the forest had not been enough after such a long and eventful day. “I shall retire now, my Lord,” you stood up and Adar nodded at you. “Can you tell me what happened to my dear friend Arondir? I forgot to ask you before.”

“I do not know but I do believe he is still alive,” Adar explained and you sighed with relief. Even though Arondir had angered you, now when you were calmer and back to your senses, you worried a little again.

“I hope he is away from here and builds a new life for himself,” you said out loud, squeezing Adar’s arm before taking your sword and walking out towards the village that you had overtaken earlier.

Adar’s house was the biggest one – right in the centre, near the market square. You had been offered your own next to his but you wanted to share a place with him. There was no need to get a separate house and you had to work on earning more and more of his trust. Especially now it seemed it would become an easier task.

But when you sat on the edge of the bed and began undressing yourself slowly, you sighed after realising that the more you were trying to make him like you, the more you were beginning to like him, too. And it could possibly lead to you feeling guilty later.

In nothing but your underdress, you felt extremely sleepy. You did not even consider waiting for your husband or trying to seduce him. Not on that night, surely.

So, you just laid down under the covers and despite the sounds of the party from afar, you fell asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow.

You woke up and turned around, surprised to see Adar still in the bed with you. He was laying on his back and asleep. You watched his chest rising up and down for a quiet moment before leaning in to touch him gently. In moments like these, he was the most vulnerable.

But so were you.

Oh, how you missed Sauron. You loved the mornings in his arms; all the sweet kisses and murmured promises, compliments and sweet nothings – all of that while tangling your bodies together to finish whatever had been started on the night before. How you longed to wake up next to him again and brush his hair gently, imagining a crown upon his head.

But on that unusually quiet morning you did not mind being in Adar’s bed either. You woke him up very softly with your touch and he cracked a smile at you when he realised it was his wife bringing him back to reality.

“Forgive me,” you whispered softly. “I am just so surprised to see you in my bed in the morning. Usually, you are always gone before I wake up.”

“Usually,” Adar nodded and cleared his throat. He hesitated before putting his arm around you but you allowed him to do so and you moved closer to him, resting your head on his chest. “It is still very early in the morning and my children were celebrating for a long time last night. The whole village is asleep and we have no more battles to fight for now,” he explained.

“And I like that very much,” you mumbled and laughed softly.

You felt Adar’s fingers caressing your back and you looked up to meet the gaze of his cold eyes. At that moment, they felt nearly kind.

Kind in a very genuine way. Something you had never felt around Sauron when his face had been trying to look kind. Sauron’s rage and hatred had been genuine. His devotion, his love – yes. But never his kindness.

“I saw you with those villagers. You were so cruel,” you breathed out. “And yet, with me, you are so soft. I am far less innocent than any of them.”

“You are my wife,” Adar explained. “My lady,” he added. “Why would I treat you like an enemy?”

If he only knew…

“I want you,” you confessed in the Quenya language and you truly did – you wanted him. It had been centuries since you were so close with a man, yet alone a man in power who treated you so special.

“I can feel it,” he whispered with a nod.

“What have you been waiting for then?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“For you to say it,” he smirked and rolled you over onto your back in one swift movement that made you yelp and chuckle right after.

What a different lover he was from Sauron, too. How surprisingly soft, slow and gentle. Taking his time, observing your reactions to make sure you were feeling alright. In fact, he was focusing more on you than on himself.

Sauron’s worship had been greedy and hungry to the point of pain very often. Not that you had ever minded that pain but you had absolutely no idea that you could be worshipped in a different way as well – attentive and delicate as if you were made of the most precious Elven glass.

In Adar’s eyes you had to be. Despite the seed of evil he could feel in you, he had to see you as something pure and innocent compared to his corrupted and rotten self. You could feel that when he was making love to you like he was trying not to hurt you too much or show you too much of his darkness.

Laying on his chest and catching your breath as his hand caressed the strands of your hair, you were listening to his heartbeat and slowly drifting off back to sleep. The hour was still early and there were no sounds coming from the village.

“Can I ask you something?” He started and you froze for a brief moment, already suspecting the question. He had every right to want to know the truth.

“I know what you are about to ask,” you sighed, looking up at him. 

“I am not angry,” he assured you. “You were forced to marry me, I could not have any expectations. And I am not exactly an image of perfection myself but–”

“There was only one before you,” you interrupted him and he closed his mouth, staring down at your face. “One too many for an unwed Elf everyone thought of as smart and innocent.”

“You do not have to tell me,” Adar only whispered.

“It is quite alright,” you shrugged your arms. “I was a very young Elven maiden sent by my parents to study in Mithlond. He was a young Elven boy and we fell in love. At least I thought we had…” You faked a sad smile and looked away with melancholy. “We spent many nights together and I know we should not have done that before the wedding but I was so sure that he would be the one I would be wed to… And, one day, after my classes, I ran into the courtyard where he was standing amongst his friends. And I overheard his announcement of being betrothed to another. I learnt my lesson then,” you shook your head and met your husband’s gaze again. He seemed to be sad for you.

“In the eyes of the Valars, you are wed to him,” he pointed out with a smirk and you knew he was teasing because you had wanted to solidify your union for so long before, meanwhile you had already belonged to another in a way.

“I have never worn his ring or sworn any oath,” you explained. “Like I have for you, my Lord.”

Adar nodded and caressed your cheeks gently before cupping them and leaning down to peck your lips.

“We shall drop the formalities when we are alone,” he suggested.

“I agree,” you nodded and smiled softly.

“Good,” he laid your head down onto his chest again and wrapped his arms around you. You hugged him back and took a deep breath in.

“Let us go back to sleep for a short while. We still have time,” you yawned a little and he did not protest as both of you closed your eyes and drifted off once more.

Weeks passed and even though Mordor was your land now, there were many things to do. The land was nothing without its citizens and your realm needed a brand new structure. At first, the Orcs were searching through the forests and villages while looking for the humans who were still wandering around. Some of them would choose to serve Adar and you out of fear.

Your relationship with your husband was developing just like Mordor under your rule. You had some misunderstandings and you still were a bit distant because you had not known each other for very long but you also did not mind to spend time in the company of one another. And you certainly did not mind sharing the same bed although sometimes you simply had no time to get intimate.

Sometimes you had some free time, though. Like right now, your husband was teaching you how to wield your new sword and you groaned while trying to lift it up one more time.

“It is much heavier than any blade I have ever been taught to fight with,” you confessed and Adar chuckled.

“It was crafted by Morgoth,” he reminded you. “It is no ordinary blade,” he moved his own sword close to you but he did that very slowly, so you could defend yourself.

And so you did lock your blade with his but your sword was too heavy to keep it still without your hands slightly trembling.

“It is not only its weight you are carrying but also its history,” Adar pushed his sword further and made you take a step back. “Its darkness.”

“I am aware,” you drawled out through gritted teeth. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you were worthy of carrying it. Therefore, you refused to give up.

“Let me,” Adar retreated all of a sudden and put his sword aside only to approach you and stand behind you as he tried to show you the right position. “While carrying a sword of this sort, you must change your approach a little. It is heavier and it was not crafted with a woman in mind,” he reminded you.

“Oh, so you think I cannot handle it for I am a delicate maiden?” You teased and Adar rolled his eyes slightly.

“I can see that you barely do,” he remarked.

“Lord Father!” One of the Orcs ran up to you and interrupted your little sparring session. “The new prisoners have arrived! Glûg says he has captured someone special!” The Orc added, excitedly. 

Adar nodded at him and squeezed your arms before walking away to gather his sword. You waited for him and you both walked to the centre of the village where the prisoners were usually being brought. Adar had some sort of a throne there, made of iron and burnt branches of the trees. It was big enough for you both to sit on it but you preferred to stand by his side either way – that was how your mother had taught you since she had always been standing behind your father.

Adar’s throne was too large for you to simply stand behind him but you just remained by his side with your back straightened and the most serious expression upon your face as that filthy human Waldreg was standing on your left and addressing the prisoners while trying to impress your husband and you with his loyalty.

“Welcome to Mordor,” he announced now and you gave Adar a meaningful look, cracking a smile. He smiled back at you before you two went back to your usual, serious expressions. “Work its land well and you’ll be fed well,” Waldreg continued. “Work it badly and you’ll feed the soil,” he finished his little introduction as he addressed one of the new prisoners – a poor looking villager. “You, lad, do you swear allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks and Dark Lady of Mordor?” He asked.

Dark Lady of Mordor – that was how they were calling you now. It was not a name you had given yourself or chosen but it was the name you had earned by being the one who had opened the dam. You had been the one to create Mordor and as much as this title was making you feel proud and strong, you also wondered what Sauron’s reaction to it would be.

Would he accept the fact that you ruled over something yourself, too? Or would he be angry that you dared to?

The poor villager hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to say. Therefore, you had to watch the Orcs attack and murder him by sticking the blade into his stomach as he groaned in pain.

At first, such images had been dreadful. But now you were growing used to it and it was a good thing – a good sign. By Sauron’s side you would have to endure much more.

“It is the Southlands no more! In Mordor, ya bow or ya bleed,” Waldreg reminded all the prisoners and then he looked at another one coming your way. “Right, you there. Do you swear allegiance to Adar and his lady?”

The man fell down to his knees and bowed his head. And when he did that, the Orcs took him by his elbows to mark him with a branding iron. An image nearly as dreadful as the other villager getting murdered but this one at least could live.

Although what a life it would be?

You did not care. You were standing on the other side – by Adar’s throne, wearing a blood red gown and a small headpiece made of iron that some of the Orcs had crafted for you from the swords they had found amongst the dead bodies. It had been their gift for giving them home.

You spotted Glûg leading another prisoner your way and this one had to be that special one that he had mentioned to his friends. He was also being kept still in chains and with an iron collar around his neck. Looking like an ordinary man – but quite handsome, you had to admit – yet, he seemed to keep his dignity amongst all this chaos.

You felt it. The twist in your gut, the change of the air around you. The disturbance of energy, the same pulling force that you had felt before while hiding inside a hut in the forest. Sauron was back. 

Sauron was here.

Trying to keep yourself composed, you looked up with your jaw clenched and back straightened and then your eyes locked with the man’s blue ones. And the gasp you tried to stop from escaping your lips had nearly made your rib cage explode.

It nearly felt wrong and surely it did feel surreal to meet with your lover again. To be in his presence and be looked at through his eyes. All those centuries of yearning and missing him, you had always imagined your next meeting differently.

First of all, you had never imagined him in a different form but the man in front of you was not the Sauron you had remembered. His hair was no longer ginger but it was brown now and he looked like a human. His face belonged to a different person but that did not change anything for it had never been his body or his flesh that you loved the most. It had been his mind and his power.

Second of all, you had always imagined him coming to you in all his glory, taking you away and sweeping you off of your feet. You had never suspected he would come to you in chains, dirty from the mud, looking like a beaten dog. And yet, here he stood.

And you had to fight every fibre of your being from running up to him. From releasing him and kissing every inch of his body, from devouring him and praising him, holding him as close as you could…

You adjusted yourself slightly and spotted that his eyes squinted. He was observing you and he looked quite intrigued with your new position.

“The King of the Southlands turned himself in, Lord Father,” Glûg announced and led Sauron by the chain attached to the collar around his neck to make him stand in front of you and your husband.

The King of the Southlands… You pursed your lips. Your husband had mentioned him to you before when he had been describing to you what happened during the attack of the Númenóreans. He had mentioned a human named Halbrand who had arrived from Númenor alongside Lady Galadriel and the cavalry. That he had claimed to be from the forgotten bloodlines of the kings.

You had been intrigued by that man from your husband’s stories already but now there was no mystery around it anymore. It was obvious to you that this persona was nothing but your lover’s scheme.

And that when you had felt his presence back then, inside the hut, he truly had been around. But you had been reaching out to him, you had been trying your best to contact him and yet… There had been no answer.

Or maybe there was. Perhaps Sauron coming back here as Halbrand was the answer to your calling.

“Says he wants to negotiate,” Glûg added and you did your best to appear as contemptuous and angry as you snorted at that.

“Human king,” you mocked his title, trying to avoid his eyes at first because even though you were putting on an act, you were still scared of your lover’s rage. “There is no such a thing,” you finally met his intense gaze and at first it startled you but you continued your little show. “The reign of a human king is always short and weak for his body rots quickly and his mind gets corrupted fast,” you explained with contempt.

Halbrand did not say anything to that. He kept staring intensely at you and Adar. In fact, he gave you a hateful stare that caused a shiver down your spine. You hoped it was nothing but a play-pretend.

“Let my people go,” he finally said in a very determined tone.

But those were not his people because he was no king. However, you had to pretend that you believed him. Waldreg and Glûg laughed at his words and you looked up at Adar.

Your heart skipped a beat when you realised that your husband was very suspicious. The way he was staring at Halbrand was making it clear that he simply knew that this man was more than he was claiming to be. And now you knew that no slip-ups from you were allowed in your little game.

“Or yours will die,” Halbrand added calmly and perhaps his threat meant nothing to the Orcs surrounded there but you knew that he was capable of hurting everyone here without using much, therefore you did not laugh.

Adar finally reacted, however, as he looked away with a slight eye-roll.

“My people defeated the men of these lands,” he reminded Halbrand. “We defeated the Elves who came to their aid,” he stood up from his throne. “We even defeated their allies, the men from beyond the sea,” he walked down and approached Halbrand as you held your breath as seeing your husband and your lover so close and face-to-face was making you feel physically sick. “There is no one left for us to fear,” Adar added.

“There is one,” Halbrand teased and you tilted your head, wondering what his game was. “Since Galadriel’s defeat, she sought out a new ally. An ancient sorcerer, to instruct the Elves in forging a new weapon,” he started and you grew more and more curious of his scheme, so you approached your husband.

You stood right behind him as you wrapped your hands around one of his arms like a dutiful and loyal wife that you were.

“One you first told her about. A power over flesh,” Halbrand continued and you just knew that all this talking so freely about… well, himself, just had to be a part of a scheme much greater and bigger than what you could have even imagined or suspected.

You felt Adar’s body tensing and you squeezed his arm tighter, trying to show him support and comfort.

“Do you remember those words?” Halbrand kept toying with him. “A power that will allow him to use your children as slaves in his army once more.”

“Ignore him,” you quickly spoke before Halbrand could continue. “He is playing with you, my Lord, can’t you see? He is using your fear against you but he is not worthy of our time. A human king?” You snorted. “Most likely a liar.”

“Set my people free and I will tell you where he can be found,” Halbrand cut you out immediately after, giving you no time to speak anymore. “So you can destroy him and rid us both of his evil,” his voice quivered, pretending to be scared.

“No, Your Majesty,” Adar shook his head after giving you a quick glance and moving away from you, forcing you to let go of his arm. He took a step further to be even closer to Halbrand but you made sure to overhear everything. “You will tell me everything you think you know of this sorcerer now… Or I will spill the words from your throat,” he threatened.

“If I die, all that I know dies with me,” Halbrand answered calmly. “You can’t kill me.”

“In time, you will beg me to,” Adar whispered to him and you reached out for his arm once more, sensing his nervousness.

You pulled him closer to you and that was when Waldreg punched Halbrand, which made you look away. Seeing your lover being treated this way was making you feel physical pain as well. You couldn’t bear to watch how that filthy human dared to treat him and how he dragged him away to one of the houses that would now serve as Halbrand’s prison.

“He has upset you,” you caressed Adar’s arm, trying to focus on him now.

“You know why,” your husband answered.

“What he said, Lord Father,” worried Glûg interrupted you two. “Sauron… could never return, could he?

“No. Sauron is dead,” Adar lied to him, shaking his head. “Your Lady was right. That man was trying to use our weakness against us,” he added and walked away but you furrowed your brows and followed him.

Grabbing Adar by his sleeve, you pulled him behind you and led him around the corner of the house nearby.

“You know it is not true,” you whispered into his face, your noses brushing each other as he kept staring at you with a puzzled expression. “When we were in Ostirith, you had received messages that were making you think Sauron was back. I thought those messages were from your children. What are you hiding from me?” You asked, perhaps a bit too aggressively.

“I hide nothing,” Adar answered, way softer than you. “The news my scouts had been sending to me… They had no idea about their meaning and I was not sharing my suspicions with anyone but you. I did not want to worry my children and I do not want to do that now either,” he explained. “That man, Halbrand… I have a feeling he might know something. If my suspicions are true and Sauron is back, I will have to tell the news to the Uruk. And we will have to march again for I shall not rest until he is defeated.”

You took a step back, giving him his personal space as you fixed your gown nonchalantly and cleared his throat.

“I am sorry. I do not like being kept in the darkness,” you tried to make up excuses for yourself. Of course your rapid reaction was the result of the fact that the matter was about your lover. But Adar could not know that.

“I am glad you asked me in private instead of calling me out in front of Glûg,” Adar nodded at you and held your wrists gently. “That was very thoughtful.”

You looked up, a little surprised. You had just accused and attacked him and he was thanking you?

“We are a husband and a wife. I might scold you or question you but this is our private matter for nobody else to see,” you cracked a nervous smile and he squeezed your fingers tighter.

“Let us go back, the rest of the prisoners are waiting.”

You nodded at him and took a deep breath in, trying to compose yourself. For some reason, out of the loud noise of all the people around, your ears picked only on the sounds leaving Halbrand’s throat as Waldreg was beating him up. And for the rest of the day you could not stand still, trying to fight the tears pricking your eyes.

Sauron’s pain was your pain.

It was the middle of the night as you gathered your skirts and walked through the mud to get to the house where Halbrand was kept in. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the Orcs guiding the door turned around to look at you.

“Leave us,” you ordered, a little harshly. They looked at each other but they would never dare to question you, so they just walked away.

And only when you could see them disappearing behind one of the buildings, knowing that you were completely alone with Halbrand, you took a deep breath in and pushed the door to walk inside.

You spotted him sitting on the ground, looking miserable and exhausted. For a short moment, you kept staring at each other in complete silence.

“My love…” You whispered in the Quenya language eventually as you dropped to your knees and crawled on the floor towards him. He kept looking at you without any expression on his face. “My love, you’re back… You’re back, I knew you would be… My love, my master, my Sauron,” you whispered the last word nearly inaudibly, cupping his cheeks with the most devoted and hurt expression since it was painful to see him humbled like this. 

“Shush, my gentle darling,” he finally spoke to you and you sobbed at his soft voice; filled with so much love and affection still. “You cannot let them hear you,” he added and you nodded, pressing your forehead to his as your tears washed some of the dirt off of his face.

“I have been waiting for you for the centuries. Yearning for you, craving you… With every inch of this body, this soul, this heart…” You were assuring him between deep gasps of air even though this very morning you had shared your body with your husband.

But it was all for the grand scheme of your lover. It did not matter, did it?

“I called for you… On that day when I made the mountain erupt. I called for you,” you moved away slightly to be able to look at his face better.

“I know,” Halbrand cracked a smile. “My love, you have to trust my plan. Although I can see you have taken the matters into your own hands.”

“I have been forced to but I saw an opportunity,” you nodded through the tears, brushing his hair with your fingertips. “An opportunity for you.”

“That is good. You are the most devoted and cunning lover just like I taught you,” he said.

“Tell me, my love, tell me what to do now. Give me orders and I shall follow them until we are united again as–” your voice quivered again as you hesitated.

Perhaps it was because of his current state, perhaps it was because of the centuries of separation and perhaps it was because he was in a new form that you had not grown used to yet but… He seemed to be more distant than you remembered. A bit colder despite his gentle words.

“Say it,” you pleaded. “Say it again and I shall do whatever you ask me of,” you promised.

Sauron looked you up and down and his lips curled up in a smile. He tried to reach out for you as if he had forgotten his hands were in shackles. You shushed him and caressed his wounded wrists wherever you could reach.

“I shall make you my Queen,” he whispered. “All Middle-earth will be brought to its knees to worship you by my side, my love,” he added and you sobbed some more. “The very thought of you has been the only thing that kept me alive for so many centuries. To know that I have to return to you gave me strength. I craved your touch for eternity but we shall wait a little longer to be together on our own terms,” he breathed out. “You have to make Adar believe that Sauron is in Eregion and lead his army to me there. I have my work to do in the meantime, but you will be on my mind constantly like you have been for the past few centuries,” he finished as you shut him up with a hungry and desperate kiss, tangling your hands messily into his hair while straddling his lap.

“I shall be your Queen,” you whimpered between the greedy kisses. Those, he seemed to give you back eagerly. “I shall reflect your greatness and your power, I shall bring you an army and whatever else you ask of me. I am yours, yours completely…”

Your dignity seemed to disappear whenever Sauron was near. You had nearly forgotten how overwhelming and soul crushing devotion it was whenever you actually found yourself around him.

“I know that you are, my darling,” he whispered after one of the kisses. “To be able to lay my eyes upon you again is the most satisfying reward.”

“No, it is not,” you shook your head. “The crown upon your head will be,” you pointed out as he raised an eyebrow. “Yes, my love, I know you very well,” you chuckled through the tears. “And I shall bring you the crown, too. I shall be the one to place it upon your head.”

“Are you not a little bit too greedy, little dove?” Halbrand chuckled.

“Greedy? For you? Always,” you teased and pulled his head back by his hair to place yet another hungry kiss upon his lips. He kissed you back, pushing his tongue inside your mouth as you moaned. But then he broke the kiss as you raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed.

“You taste like an Orc,” he said.

“Have you kissed many?” You tried to joke back even though his words had hurt you. All this sacrifice was for him… Could he not see that?

“I am only jesting,” he shook his head. “You look, taste and smell like heaven and I cannot wait to claim you as mine once again.”

At those words you could feel the heat in your cheeks as you looked down for a short moment.

“You should go now before it gets suspicious,” Halbrand leaned in to join your foreheads. “Go, you know what to do.”

“I do,” you agreed and cupped his cheeks before pecking his lips once more. “Everything for you.”

Glûg couldn’t stop thinking of Halbrand’s words. He had been approaching you for many days now and trying to make you assure him once more that the words the man had said were not true. At some point, you began to feel a little bit guilty for lying to him since you could spot so much fear in those eyes.

“You have to trust your Lord Father, Glûg,” you smiled at him that morning. “When he says there is no reason to worry, then there is not.”

“He says one thing but I see he is worrying, my Lady,” Glûg shook his head. “Can you not see it, too?” He was genuinely surprised.

You had realised a little while ago that most of the Orcs had no idea about the deal between your father and your husband. Perhaps the whole concept of political marriages and alliances was something unfamiliar to them but most of them truly believed that you shared a deeper connection with your husband. Love – however the Orcs understood this feeling.

But those past few days, ever since Halbrand’s arrest, the relationship between you and Adar was more distant again. He was worried indeed – way more than he had been before when there had only been signs of your lover’s return. You, on the other hand, did not complain about it because your own mind was focused on Sauron as well. Only for reasons much different than his.

“Glûg, no husband ever tells his wife everything,” you tried to cheer him up as he nodded.

You were walking around the village, trying to see if everything was working out smoothly. The closer you were getting to the house where Halbrand was being kept, though, the more sick you were feeling. You hadn’t visited him again after the first night but he was constantly on your mind either way. And the sounds of his screams of pain were giving you nightmares.

Adar joined you all of the sudden, making Glûg walk away from you a little bit. Your husband took his place by your side and you looked up at his face, noticing that he was worried again.

But before you could ask, a familiar scream reached your ears.

“Oh,” you winced and looked away. “I do realise he is a prisoner but what Waldreg is doing to that human king is starting to make me sick,” you complained. Perhaps it was risky to try to stand up for Halbrand but you thought you had done it in quite an innocent manner.

You knew Sauron would not want you to do that because it could possibly reveal your true self to Adar in case he knew who his prisoner truly was, but you loved Sauron too much to let go of this opportunity to make his suffering stop.

Adar did not say anything to your words but he squeezed your arm before walking away again to join the other Orcs that he had originally been on his way to before spotting you with Glûg.

You sighed, defeated.

However, it was no defeat. Or rather, you liked to think it had been your words that made Adar finally find some mercy for Halbrand. On the very next morning he announced it was the right time to finally settle down the matter with the human king and he even ordered to set his people free.

And so you found yourself inside the house where Halbrand was being kept. He was asleep when you walked inside, laying on the cold stone floor covered with a bit of dirty hay. You wondered if he was truly asleep since he did not truly need it.

The state of his face nearly made you weep – the bruises, the bloody lip, the dirt and sweat mixed. He should be treated like a God and yet he had to endure such a treatment. They were fools not to see that he was the one who would heal Middle-earth.

You kept standing next to Waldreg and Glûg but your husband stood above him and kept staring at Halbrand’s sleeping face. You had a feeling he knew – knew something, knew more than you’d like him to. But he surely did not know that the man in front of you was Sauron. Otherwise, he would bring the Iron Crown with him and push it deep into your lover’s heart once more.

“I was in your place once,” Adar scoffed and walked away after Halbrand finally woke up and your husband’s face was the first thing he saw. “In the eldest of the Elder Days,” he continued his story and crouched down to be closer to Halbrand, who kept staring at the ceiling without any expression on his face. “Thirteen of us were chosen to be blessed of Morgoth’s hand, with the promise of power. A new birth,” Adar explained and you moved uncomfortably.

He had never told you the full story. Would he do it now? Would he tell it to that human king as you listened? Maybe it was easier for him to let you know about his past like that? 

“I was led up to a dark and nameless peak. Chained and left,” Adar continued his story and at that moment, your heart mourned for him.

Despite his cruelty, he had always shown you lots of compassion. He was treating you like a delicate thing that had to be protected as much as empowered, so she could fight for herself, too. He had no idea it was a viper that he had in his bed. And this very viper moved closer to him to put her hand on his shoulder as she faked contempt while staring down at Halbrand. He found your eyes and then he looked at your hand on Adar’s shoulder, only to look back at you. He didn’t like how well you were playing your role – of that you were sure. Sauron had always been the most jealous lover.

But now his anger could not reach you so you toyed with him a little bit more, although teasing him was not your intention. You truly wanted to bring Adar some comfort.

“And after what seemed endless thirst and hunger…” Your husband lifted his hand to squeeze yours. “I saw it. His servant’s face. Sauron’s face,” he whispered and you squeezed his fingers tighter but in that very moment you felt that you were interrupting something intimate between them two. Something you were no part of.

There were tears in Halbrand’s eyes and in yours as well. Perhaps you were a part of it, after all. You were another thing that connected these two, another thread, another betrayal, another affection that they shared.

“And it was… beautiful,” Adar admitted. “He offered me wine, red as a blood moon. He offered me wine, and on that dark and nameless peak, I drank it. I drank it all,” he confessed and Halbrand moved his head slightly to take a better look at your husband. “Your people have been set free and my wife here cannot stand your screams of pain anymore,” he informed him and Halbrand moved his head up to rest it on the wall behind him, shooting you a glance. “Now, tell me what you know of Sauron.”

Halbrand kept staring at you two with a smirk on his face. He was looking you up and down with contempt and a hint of curiosity just like during your first meeting when you had been by Adar’s side, standing next to his throne.

“Sauron has returned in a new form,” Halbrand announced and you looked behind you, knowing very well that Glûg would not take the news well. And indeed, he was affected. “I am not yet certain what shape he has taken.”

“Then of what use are you to me?” Adar asked, angrily. He stood up slowly and you allowed your hand to drop down from his shoulder as you looked down at Halbrand again.

“I have something you don’t,” Halbrand answered. “The trust of the Elves. Release me and I’ll go to them and seek him out, so you can marshal your legions to destroy him.”

You looked at Adar again and he seemed to be overthinking Halbrand’s proposal as the pace of his breath quickened. You quickly put your hand on his chest as you stood by him.

“If he speaks the truth…” You started, changing your tactic. “What I’m saying is… Even if he lies, what can you possibly lose? He is no use for us anyway,” you pointed out.

“Weren’t you the one telling me he was a liar?” Adar whispered and even though Glûg and Waldreg could not hear it, you knew that Halbrand could.

“You had your signs of Sauron’s return and this man proves them. I called him a liar then to calm you down and to not worry your children; to avoid making any decisions in haste,” you explained and then you lowered your voice even further. “I can see how the possibility of Sauron’s return torments you,” you looked into his eyes intensely.

Adar kept staring back at you like that for a while and then he looked up to nod at Waldreg. The man approached Halbrand but not without his usual monologue.

“Do you vow allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks and Dark Lady of Mordor?” He asked Halbrand and you swallowed thickly. Despite standing proud, you glanced down at your lover, a little scared of how he would react to your new name but his face remained unchanged.

“Yes,” he whispered after a while of hesitation, during which he did not look up to meet your gaze even once. He was a much better actor than you were and perhaps you should stop concerning yourself so much with what he would think or react since it was all a game anyway.

“Then kneel,” Waldreg ordered and you watched Halbrand struggling to get into this position since he was still half-lying down and his hands were in shackles.

You kept standing by Adar’s side with your hand on his chest and once again you felt the tension in his body rising as his stare was the most intense. His intuition was not failing him and you only hoped it would not turn out to be even better than you suspected.

“Now, swear it,” Waldreg barked at Halbrand who had just finally made it into the kneeling position. Nothing but the sound of his chains filled the room and you felt really bad for your humiliated lover. You wished you could make it all stop for him.

“I vow–” Halbrand started.

“With your head at her feet,” Adar spoke suddenly in a very harsh tone and you looked at him briefly. Heavy silence occurred between you, him and Halbrand.

You did not understand why Adar wanted this to happen and it felt utterly wrong to be in this position. It was Sauron – your lover, your master, your King. You would never dare to even imagine him bowing down to you because you were the one serving him with your body, mind and soul.

Adar was not fully aware of the complexity of the situation he had just created. You nearly wanted to cry out that no, he did not have to. You wanted to spare your lover the further embarrassment.

But then, after a very long while of hesitation and swallowing his pride – a task incredibly difficult for Sauron, of which you were aware – he did what he had been told and he placed his head at your feet. And in that moment, a shiver went down your spine as you realised that it could be the only opportunity for your lover to be out of his dignity in front of you as much as you usually were in front of him. It was only fair, after all.

And it felt so oddly… good. Satisfying,

“I vow to serve the Lord and Lady of Mordor,” Halbrand whispered. “To the end of my days… and theirs,” he added as a malicious feeling creeped through your body.

Halbrand was given a horse and you watched him ride away slowly while standing next to Adar. Your husband was sitting on his throne with Waldreg by his right side and you by his left. You kept staring at Halbrand’s shoulders but he did not look back even once.

“See that he’s followed. Every step,” Adar told Glûg who had just approached you two. The Orc nodded, still visibly affected by the news of Sauron’s comeback.

Waldreg walked away to clean the house a bit and feed the warg, leaving you alone with your husband. He looked worried and sad as your heart clenched in your chest when you remembered the story he had told Halbrand earlier.

Softly and carefully, you sat on the throne next to him and held his hand gently with the both of yours.

“What are you thinking of?” You asked him.

“I had my suspicions but now… Now I am certain that Sauron is back and…” Adar laid his eyes on you. You were taken aback by the amount of pain you found there. “I cannot let him enslave my children.”

“We… We will not,” your voice broke a little as the guilt creeped in. “The story you have told him… Is that what happened to you, really?” You changed the subject and Adar nodded. “I am sorry,” you admitted, truthfully, while brushing his rough hand with your fingertips.

“Do not mourn me,” Adar asked of you and you cracked a smile.

“Why did you tell him to vow at my feet?” You asked one more question as your eyes met his and he forced a smirk despite his sadness.

“Have I not told you that I would make the whole Middle-earth see the Dark Lady that you are?” 

MASTERLIST

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

It’s been discussed before yes yes yes but the fact that in Trespasser Solas declines your Lavellan from joining him because he doesn’t her want to see what he will become.

a) All Lavellan knows is the moral, ethical, and principled Solas, the Solas who acts defensively and practically. Solas has and will act/order others to act in such a way that would break many Geneva conventions if it means succeeding, and he doesn’t want to test Lavellan’s love for him by making her bear witness to that, to choose him when she has no idea the true cost of what she is demanding, not only of herself, but of the world that will be ravaged by all of the terrorism and political maneuverings meant to destabilize and destroy the only world she has ever known. There is nothing more heart-breaking than someone you love forsaking you, to reach that limit one has for another. But equally so, Solas does not want to be in the position where he may be left with the choice between choosing Lavellan or his mission. What he will become may just be a man that would sacrifice her for his plans. He will not let her potentially put her heart on the line like that.

b) He doesn’t want to make her a monster that participates or allows such things, because part of the reason he fell in love with her was because of her goodness. It wouldn’t be difficult to groom her into evil if love was added to the mix. Love can compel you to do terrible things for the sake of a loved one, and Solas does not want to take advantage of her in that way, does not even want to have that temptation or that possibility involved. He is distancing himself to avoid accidentally corrupting the nature of what he believes to be a good, pure spirit. Evil inevitably poisons goodness. The Evil he wields is utilitarian and remorseful and necessary but evil all the same because it will do harm to thousands via the removal of the Veil. The man is planning what is potential omnicide. You cannot participate in that and not have something about you change irrevocably to allow it to happen. Solas, again, thinks of Lavellan as a good spirit. He wants to keep as many “good-spirited people” (kind, good people) intact as possible before he executes his plan. Why, I do not know, but I suppose because he believes that possessing a good spirit means your life will be happier. To be good is to exist well, and as Solas explains, to be good of heart means you will attract good spirits in the Fade and thus your experience in the Fade will be more pleasant, so by this logic he believes that, ideally (strictly ideally, he knows how much reality does not reflect ideals), goodness begets goodness begets peace.

Solas needs to be a monster because truly effective warfare is conducted when principles and ethics are thrown out the window. He does not want Lavellan to witness that and be confirmed in how much of a monster he was, is, and is willing to be. He wants her to remember him as a civilian, as Solas the humble apostate, not Fen’Harel the shadowed and conniving guerrilla war general. Selfishly, he wants her to only love a part of him, the best parts of him, because he is afraid of the whole of him being rejected, because who he is in totality is so storied and convoluted and repugnant that it would require the most extreme cognitive dissonance to be able to love him, and if there is anything Solas hates, it’s people who ignore reality in favor of their own self-serving fantasies. Lavellan would be right to disavow him, and by the same token it would be so terribly selfish of them both if she forgave him of his crimes and he accepted that forgiveness, because his sins cannot be absolved with a single individual’s love. That is the tragedy of their love, because love cannot overcome all that has happened. It cannot redeem or wipe away what he has done, not unless he kills a significant part of who he is, the Ancient Elf, the Rebel, the Failure, the Veil Maker, the Doomer of the World.

[pheonixgrave]

Try Me (18+)

Since people seemed to dig my last one, heres another AstarionxTav fic!!

Warnings: Smut with feeling, shy Tav, first times, corruption, mildly sex repulsed Astarion, smut because that's how I cope

Rest was desperately needed. They were all exhausted. The day's activities had left them dirty, spent, and bloodied. They even set up their tents in silence, silently trudging along. Tav laid out her bedroll, barely managing to shrug off her leather armour before collapsing face first onto her pillow. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Astarion feed off her the night before. It always took a lot out of her but nothing a good night's rest couldn’t fix. Besides, it does feel rather good. Well, in the moment at least. It might not be the romance she always dreamed about but it was…nice. 

He wasn’t exactly nice. But he took care of her. They were both new to this. And after having the conversation about “wanting this to be real,” they had been taking their time. A kiss goodnight here. Soft whispers about ‘later’ there. Tav wouldn’t lie, she missed him. She missed being wrapped around him. She missed the magic in his fingers. She groaned and turned on her side. Being patient is the worst. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. Her body was in desperate need of some kind of release.

But out here? She had to sit and wait until everyone else went to sleep before even thinking about anything like that. She pulled her blanket over her shoulders and tried to rest with her mind focusing squarely on the vampire spawn and his, how did he say it? Full portfolio?

Astarion watched the elf from a distance. He sighed before heading into his tent. He wasn’t used to taking things slow. Hells, he wasn’t even sure what slow meant. He only knew she wasn’t a target. He didn’t have it in him to use her. And now? Now he was scared. Scared of what might happen. Scared of the tadpoles. Scared of what happens after. This feeling, this fear of losing her scared him almost as much as the idea of Cazador did. Regardless, he asked to slow things down. To not just be a sexual relationship. To be something more.

But Gods, he missed her.

Tav seemed okay with a gentle touch here and again. But it wasn’t as satisfying as having her tighten around him. He sighed, realizing how quickly his mind turned to more unbecoming thoughts. But that’s who he is, right? A creature of hedonistic pleasure. Might as well make himself comfortable.

It didn’t take long for everyone else to fall asleep. Tav quietly undid the knots in her trousers before snaking her hand southward. She’s never done this before. She hadn’t really known what felt good until Astarion showed her. Before the nautiloid, she had been in her ivory tower for so long that she’d never had a chance to be seen in such a way. Her fingers were inexperienced and clumsy. Sure, it felt nice. But no matter how gently she circled her clit, it didn’t get her anywhere. All she felt was more frustration. And the more frustrated she got, the less nice it felt. 

“By the Gods above,” she muttered before fixing her trousers and sitting up. It pained her that the solution to her problem was less than a few meters away. With a newfound resolve-and not knowing entirely what she was going to do when she got there-she marched her way towards Astarion’s tent. Once she reached the opening, she froze. Didn’t he say he wanted to take things slow? What in the Hells is she doing here? So he could get her off? Gods, maybe she wasn’t cut out for this.

In the midst of her overthinking, the rogue inside heard her shifting on her feet. He had already cleaned up. The tension in his shoulders wasn’t nearly as bad and the feelings of self hatred were only minimal this time. Truly a win for him. He got out of his bedroll to see what brought her here. 

The moment they made eye contact, he could see she was near tears. “Darling?” He didn’t know if he should reach for her or brush her off. “Whatever is the matter?”

Tav looked at the ground, “I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?” She didn’t flinch at the harshness of his words. She was, after all, in the wrong. 

“May I come in?” She wasn’t making eye contact and her hands were in front of her. Astarion wasn’t sure if he had ever seen her like this before. She was confident, cocky even. But this? This wasn’t like anything he had seen from her before. She sounded so…small. 

“O-of course,” he stuttered, ushering her inside.

She walked in, quickly but somehow still dragging her feet. Once inside, she stood on the opposite side of the tent, quickly pacing back and forth. “Astarion,” her voice was calmer than her actions, “I’ve never-we haven’t…” She sighed before standing still to face him.

“Darling? You’re acting rather odd at the moment. Is everything all right?”

“No!” She gasped out, “I mean, everything is never fine what with everything else going on. But it is fine at the current moment.”

“Then why are you running about like a lunatic?” The vampire spawn was more concerned now, The tension in his back had returned. Had someone hurt her?

She sighed, “Let me start over.”

“By all means,” he gestured towards her.

“You’ve told me quite a bit about your history. Because of that, you thought it best to take things easy. Courting essentially.” A pit of dread filled his stomach. This is where she tells him it’s over. This is where she tells him she wants nothing to do with him because of it. “And I am enjoying it! Do not, for a moment, think that I am not loving every second of it. But when we started, it was just us rolling around in the grass, right?” He nodded, praying to whomever was listening that this wasn’t going where he thought it was. “Right, well, you’re amazing at it.”

“Did you come here in the middle of the night simply to tell me how good I am in bed?”

“No! Not quite,” She ran her hands through her hair. “Before you, I had never done anything like that before. I had never even thought of doing anything like that before.” 

“Alright,” he stood with his arms crossed. He wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with all of this but the feeling of dread was spreading through the rest of his body.

“And that means that I had also never done anything like that to myself, either.” She swallowed, looking at the ground. “And I’ve tried so hard recently. I didn’t want to say anything, truly. Because I don’t want you to think that I only think of you in that way because I do love you.”

His world stopped for a moment. She loved him? The vampire spawn with a master in Baldur’s Gate? The feeling of dread didn’t necessarily go away. A part of him tried to deny what she had just said as incessant rambling. But, a part of him hoped and prayed that it was true. 

That someone as incredible as Tav could love him.

“And I would never want to push you into something you would be less than comfortable with. But I need help. I don’t know how to do that on my own. Astarion, I need your help. I don’t know who else I could ask or even trust with this.”

Astarion shook his thoughts from his head. The fact that she did say she loves him was not something she realized she said. He cleared his throat, “Are you asking me how to play with yourself?”

Tav looked up at him with those glossy eyes and nodded. Sheepish was not a word anyone would use to describe her. But it did warm his cold heart just a little that she was trusting him to see this side of her. He took a moment to just look at her. She had taken her hair down. Those blonde waves only came to her shoulders. The scar on her lip that she wouldn’t speak about was trembling ever so slightly. Her arms were crossed under her chest, unknowingly pushing her breasts up. The freckles on her face were almost hidden by the blush in her cheeks. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She looked beautiful. 

Astarion didn’t say anything. He simply walked over to his bedroll and sat. He grabbed her hand, enjoying the new calluses on them. They weren’t like this when they met. They were soft and oh so delicate. He pulled her onto his lap and settled her between his legs. Pulling her back to him, he gently untied the knots in her trousers. 

“You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I don’t have to, my dear. But how can I stand idly by while you’re struggling so much? Take them off.” He truly didn’t mind. He does sometimes forget that she is more inexperienced than most virgins. He’s surprised she lasted this long before cracking just a little. 

She managed to shimmy off her trousers and her underclothes before settling back against him. He spread her legs over his, keeping his touches gentle this time. 

“Give me your hands,” he reached for hers. He put his hands over hers, laying his chin on her shoulder. “You have to be patient.” He used her own hands to massage her breasts underneath her tunic. Her little gasps made him smirk. “When you’re by yourself, you’ll have to be quiet. You wouldn’t want Wyll or Halsin to hear you, would you?” He slowly dragged her hands down her navel towards that sweet spot between her legs. 

She shakes her head, “No, I-I don’t think I would.” Her breathing was already getting heavy.

“Wouldn’t want to make them jealous, would you?” He used her fingers to gather some of the wetness of her cunt. “I imagine Gale would be rather upset if he knew how much you enjoyed this.”

“W-what do you mean?” He was tracing patterns now. Lazily enjoying how easy it was to feel her tremble in his arms. 

“Oh, my love, it’s hard not to notice how they look at you. How everyone looks at you. They already want you. Dear, sweet Tav. If only they knew.” He practically purred, sending chills down her spine. 

“Astarion-”

“If only they knew how desperate for release you are. So needy and willing. I wonder what depravity goes on in your head all day to get you this wet before anyone’s touched you.”

She came so easily for him. Head thrown back on his shoulder, body shaking against his. He then did something he had never done before. He just held her. Wrapping his arms around her, he let her ride out the aftershocks of her release. 

Her words played on repeat in his head. “I do love you.” Something so small, so inconsequential. At least, it used to be. Love had always been a trick. A death trap. Fake. 

“Astarion?” She whispered, barely loud enough to hear. 

“Yes, my dear?” 

“Can I help-” she swallowed, “can I take care of you?” He let her wiggle out of his grip. She turned to face him. “I want to take care of you.”

“How do you intend to do so?” Tav loved how his voice dropped when they were like this. It made her feel like she had the same effect on him that he had on her. With shaky hands, she put them on his chest and kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, one that held far more than just passion. With her hands still shaking, she undid the ties on his blouse. Opening it just a bit more. She wanted to see him. To see all of him. 

She looked at him with those big blue eyes, unsure of herself. With a deep breath, she went to the ties on his trousers. “I think-” another swallow, “With my mouth?”

If he wasn’t so hard, he might have laughed at her uncertainty. He might have teased her for her innocence. But once she took his cock into her hand, all those thoughts went out the window. She was on her knees before him, gently starting to stroke him. WIthout any instruction, she started licking the tip. He groaned, “You found one of Shadowheart’s books, I take it?”

Her movements stalled, her ears going red. “Possibly.” Before he could think of a response, she took the head into her mouth. She tried sucking gently before he laced his hands in her hair. He wasn’t pushing, just simply holding. 

“Relax, my love. I know you can take me deeper.” His voice was deeper. Turning her eyes towards his face, she saw how enraptured he was. She tried relaxing her throat. She wanted to take him deeper. Wanted him to feel good. She managed about halfway before gagging. “Slowly, don’t try to take more than you can.” 

She was drooling. The book she read didn’t mention drooling. She was worried it might be gross but he didn’t seem to mind. “That’s it, darling, make a mess for me.” She moaned and took him out of her mouth for a moment to look up at him and breathe. He smiled at her. “You look so sweet like this.” He was out of breath. It’s never felt like this before. He’s never enjoyed it this much before. 

She went right back to it. Trying to take whatever she could in her mouth and getting the rest with her hands. Her jaw was starting to ache but his moans were music to her ears. “If you keep going like this, I won’t last much longer.” 

She went just a little faster. “Darling-” the grip on her hair tightened. She could feel him pulse on her tongue. With a gasp, he finished. She swallowed him down to his base, just letting him use her mouth. She stayed there for a moment before Astarion gave a gentle tug of her hair. His cum tasted strange. The book described it as salty and heady. But his had an almost metallic tang to it. She swallowed as much as she could. She raised her head to meet his.

Gods above, she was beautiful. Astarion saw the tear tracks on her face, the cum sitting on the corner of her mouth. It took his breath away. She was truly something else.

“Was that okay?” She practically whispered to him.

He let out a breathy laugh, “You did wonderfully, my love.” He pulled her up, tucking himself back in his trousers. He reached and handed her hers. 

She grabbed them and stood. Slipping them back on, she turned to face him, “Can I-”

“Of course,” he reached for her. Pulling her back down next to him. He started to adjust so she was next to him but she shook her head. “What is it?”

“I want to hold you, if that’s alright.” He was taken aback by this. He was still barely used to holding her hand by the fire. He didn’t say anything but rolled to his side. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “Goodnight, Astarion.” She placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“Goodnight, darling.” 

[bibibbon]

Hello. I have notice something in MHA for the series having idea about reverting the tropes of classic hero comics trope it actually have very less morally ambiguous characters who don't side with hero and villain faction of the MHA world and even less having impact on the story narration and its core theme and let alone characters who the story don't paint as character who infact a good points but are not too violent or even self sacrificing. I genuinely wish there were more morally ambiguous characters who either are not hero or villain. For example, Lady Nagant is one of my favourite characters for the same reason. A pro hero who was got disillusioned due to the HPSC and saw the truth of the society and kill the HSPC president. More characters like her who don't fit in any of the MHA worlds morals alignment or how society fit people or hell even characters who actively reject the title of hero and villain and the very definition of it, the MHA society put in and the traditional morality. There's very few moments where fluidity in morality for characters dynamic is allow but the narrative don't give it more appropriate focus. Morally ambiguous characters whose personality, ideology and how they act don't fit in any way possible in the box of hero and villain definition the story put in. Morally ambiguous characters who don't need saving or need to save others narratives wise but make both Izuku and Tomura questions their own goal and why they are taking action. Scenes of lady nagant where she was talking about hero society real truth with Izuku was my favourite from my series. And I actually wish the story has more moments like these with Tomura where someone probe him why destruction is his ideology. Because Destruction is equal to Creation. Where Tomura draw line in destroying every thing? Is it because he personally want it or AFO influence?

What I want to say I actually wish there was more characters whose morals alignment were in the line of neutrality and impact the narration. Because these kind of characters truly make what meant to be a hero and saving someone question even brightly. Make Izuku character as hero more unique, make Tomura 'Villains need their own Hero' more profound and impacting.

But it is just my own opinion and preferences.

Oh I absolutely agree with this!!

For a series that actively tries to show itself subverting the classical superhero trope, it doesn't particularly do it well in the sense of introducing nuance and fulditiy into character morality and fully showing a proper grey space.

MHA does well in presenting morally grey or morally ambiguous situations, but it struggles in presenting morally ambiguous characters that are relevant to the plot.

I say a proper grey space because while the manga claims that vigilantes are morally grey we honestly don't see enough of them in the main manga and the vigilantes manga frames them in a way where there is a clear divide of good and bad vigilante so it just makes the whole point of vigilantes being grey null.

The main cast is all divided into either heroes or villains, with neither one really trying to reject that role and move past it. Ultimately, the heroes within the series try and develop a deeper understanding of heroics, some acknowledging that villains and heroes are the same or that villains also need saving. However, we don't get heroes truly acknowledging the corruption of the society they live in to a full extent. We get some crumbs here and there, for example, ochako realising how bad the quirk counselling system is, Iida realising that to be a true hero, he can not kill a villain because of personal issues and mina realising that both heroes and villains are humans on different sides with the same emotions.

The worldbulding of mha and its flaws aren't at all acknowledged, especially the hpsc side of things. This is why lady nagant stands our so much because she is one of the only character that sees and directly calls out the hpsc and we are shown by her entire character just how damaging and cruel the hpsc and how they harm everyone in the process whether that be heroes, villains and citizens alike by tucking them into a false sense of safety and comfort and indirectly upholding a man who will so soon crumble (all might).

I have already talked about Lady nagant, and it also seems like you acknowledged her character, but truly aside from Lady nagant, there isn't a relevant character who shows morally ambiguity. You can argue that yes, Nedzu is a character who is morally ambiguous, but is he relevant?

The criticisms you hold for izuku and shigaraki's characters are so incredibly valid and are previous criticisms I have mentioned before. How and when will shigaraki stop in this path of destruction? What can be made from nothing?

The same applies to izuku, who holds up the same very system that hurts him and seems to try and climb the system to prove himself to the people while ultimately destroying himself for the hope of better. Izuku never ends up breaking the cycle. Actually, he and mirio (who is now the number one hero) end up fueling the cycle and upholding it ironically enough it looks like history is bound to repeat itself here.

Mha was supposed to subvert the typical superhero narrative that afo and ofa presented and the two main characters who were supposed to be the obvious leaders of this were izuku and shigaraki.

Due to this, its a whole lot more worse when you realise that all of this and the parallels shigaraki and izuku have fall apart due to horikoshi choosing to do what he did in chapter 419 revealing that shigaraki tomura was a puppet all along and that AFO was somehow the big mastermind. This just makes the world feel small and removes all the worldbulding that shigarakis backstory and actions have added to the world of MHA. Pinning the faults all on one man when the world is so much more complex and nuanced than that ultimately removes so much from the story that's supposed to tackle societal issues.

[briarlovesclara]

Wicked & The Hunger Games: an analysis on "evil"

I have been thinking (listening to the Wicked OBS, watching copious movie interviews, and always thinking about THG), and I think between the two medias you can draw a fairly comprehensive line in terms of how characters develop into evil within stories. Spoilers for THG and Wicked (both acts and the first movie) ahead :)

I'll be breaking this down to 5 different ways characters grow to interact and sometimes embrace evil. Starting with:

Not born evil, actively resists and struggles throughout the narrative, and ultimately remains not evil:

My character for this trope is Katniss Everdeen. This is not a character that is expected to be evil, or was born into a role of being so. Though Katniss struggles to "remember who the enemy is", her fumbles are often ultimately due to a misguided or manipulated outlook. She's put in a horrible situation, and has to do horrible things, but you see a progression with how she views them. She kills Marvel without thinking, knows she had to, and would do it again-- but she's haunted by it. She has no reason to take pity on Cato, but she does. (I know technically she was also trying to get help for Peeta, but she also understands the horror of Cato's death.) Even when this falters, she realizes it and hates it immediately (see: the death of the capitol woman in her own house). She makes active choices out of care, and once it is a viable route, she does what she does for the greater good.

Not born evil, actively resists and struggles through the narrative, and eventually excepts evil:

This is Elphaba. She isn't born with any evil in her, and tries over and over to not become so. Eventually, she's worn down by the narrative ("No Good Deed") and fits into the role she was pressured to have her whole life. This is not to say that she ever truly becomes evil, but that she plays the role for the "audience" (Oz).

Not born evil, but gets led into it; is either unaware or comfortable of their morals by the end:

When asked what really helped him define his character in the movie, Jeff Goldblum responded that he and director Jon M. Chu worked to find the finnicky nature of someone who let banality lead them into evil. The Wizard is a neutral character when he arrives in Oz; he becomes evil by accepting small amounts of power and corruption until he's already there ("believe me, it's hard to resist" --"Wonderful").

Not born evil, passively struggles throughout the narrative, and ultimately chooses to be evil:

Coriolanus Snow fits this like a glove. The point of his narrative is that he must start out at the same point as the first character (Katniss) and be born with opportunity. The shift is that he only internally and weakly struggles against the temptations of power. He starts making choices that he convinces himself are not evil, but his reasoning is 'it can't be evil if it's just me getting what I want'. He ends up blatantly choosing to do evil things to continue in comfort and power.

Born evil, does nothing to resist this, dies evil:

The Wicked Witch of the West-- which is to say that this character doesn't exist alone. You'll see that the main difference is that this character is born evil. The Witch (Elphaba) is not: the whole thesis of the musical. This character exists only in the mind of propaganda, a demon meant to haunt you, an individual (or organization) with no nuance behind any evil acts. If you see this kind of character applied in the real world, be wary of who you are letting tell you stories and what their motivations may be.

[elriel-fireheart]

How can you blatantly ignore the connection between 3 brothers, 3 sisters, and 3 mountains? I mean??? You think sjm had Az say "What if the cauldron was wrong?" and then gave him the first hand knowledge in HOFAS that the cauldron is, in fact, very wrong and not as it should be just for funzies?

Legitimate questions that live in my head:

WHY would such a horrid and corrupt thing take such a liking to sweet Elain? I'm dying to know more information. What happened in that wretched pot that creates monsters that it decided to BLESS elain with sight and God knows what else? And if Nesta TOOK from the cauldron and got this insane amount of power... what power(s) will come from it as a "gift"? 😳 Did Elain give something to it in a desperate bargain to live? What all did she loose in those few seconds to gain such favor? What did it see in her that made it love her so much?

What is between Koschei and Az??? “I spend so many months preparing for you,” Koschei crooned, “and you don’t even wish to speak to me?” What and who is Koschei truly? Was he working with Hybern? Was that ash bolt arrow that Hybern shot through Azriel's chest done for a hidden plot with Koschei? Or just Hyberns natural cruelty? What is Koschei's true ultimate goal and will it have anything to do with Elain? It obviously has something to do with Az.

Is Rhys being High King an actual possibility? Will Rhys treat Elain as he treated Az? Is Nyx going to be stolen away? Will elriel have to save each other? Will Elain have to slam truth teller into Azriel's chest for the spell to be broken and true mate bond be revealed??? A wild thought, I know.

Too many questions. This wait is agony. Agony!

3 pairs. 3 brothers. 3 sisters. 3 love stories.

One sister's story left to tell. One Illyrian warrior hopelessly in love.

One unwanted mate.

A broken cauldron and evil dark lord.

1/3 mountains with undiscovered depths.

A Seer and Shadowsinger with untold powers.

Light and Dark.

A knife and a sword.

The two most beautiful fae in the realm, forbidden from one another, and fully aware that they want each other.

Gwyneth does not fit in this story line aside from being Nesta's friend and being a drama piece if sjm really wanted to, but I highly doubt it. 💀 I truly believe this story is about Elain and Azriel's forbidden love against the world and discovering that they are meant for each other after all.

[sortofshea]

On the 12th day of @hprecfest this fandom gave to me...

Day 12: a fic by your favourite author

Title: Heal Thyself by @astolat

Pairing: Draco x Harry

Teen | 46.9k words

Summary:

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

"Oh, I thought you might,” she said. “Well, goodbye.” And off she wandered again in her addled way.

Why I recommend it:

Choosing a "favourite" author from this fandom is an impossible task. Astolat won this spot despite a whole host of other contenders because I cannot simply pick one, but many of my other favourite authors are featuring in other prompts and I've read just about every single scrap of HP fanfiction she's written.

This fic is an absolutely stunning exploration of Draco's journey to redemption after the war. It is very apparent that he only begins the course to become a healer out of pride and spite, but after a few years, he starts to realize that he also wants this for himself. He struggles and fights his way through a wand that is reluctant to cooperate with him and the reactions of the public and his peers to his presence in the course.

Through gritted teeth, Draco works hard to make ammends for his past. He lives, breathes and sleeps his studies and work. This guy stops going out unless his very beneficent senior tells him he must. Even after he graduates and goes on to become a special consultant for only the most difficult of cases, he has to be kicked out of the hospital by the Chief Mediwizard. Not for good, of course, just out of the permanent residences and told to get a real flat and work no more than 5 days a week.

Draco has found something that he is not only good at, but is also benefitting both his patients and himself. His patients recieve care from literally the best Magister in England, and Draco finds that he is able to heal the bits of his soul that have been eroded by dark magic and corruption.

Listen, House, MD is one of my all time facourite shows. Draco doesn't give Dr. House per-se, but he is portrayed as a grumpy, tortured prodigy who is more often than not, the only one capable of saving his patients. The story is full of such beautifully crafted magical theory and magical medical lore, its truly brilliant. I crave this. I eat that shit right up. I will never stop rereading this fic.

As for the drarry of it all, Harry comes into the story when Draco has reached the top of his game, essentially. He's rebuilt his life in as successful a fashion as he knows how, and he's found a certain fulfillment and even peace with himself. Harry is deeply mistrusting of him and holds an unfairly harsh opinion, even after Draco saves his life. Having coincidentally discovered that fragments of all 3 killing curses Voldemort hit Harry with had not exactly vacated his body, Draco begins operating at once. It is a long, exhausting and harrowing procedure, but he does it. After the fact, Harry decides he's lying about something, hiding something and reverts to his basic programming; he begins stalking investigating Draco Malfoy.

When he discovers absolutely nothing, not a single hair out of place, he is baffled. He realizes that somehow Draco has literally managed to cleanse himself of all darkness. Despite all odds, he has crawled out of the corruption that was bred into him and come out a changed man - but also very much the same Draco he has always been. Honestly, after Harry has his come to Jesus moment and realizes he has feelings for Draco, its all very quick and easy between them.

Watching Harry fall into old habits and expect absolutely nothing but the worst from Draco, it's so stunningly relieving when he finally clues into it all. After realizing that Draco is a changed man, Harry mostly just finds it incredibly amusing to hang around and annoy him. It takes some time before he realizes that he has feelings for Draco, but when he does, these two quickly fall into such an easy rhythm with each other.

I need to end this outrageously long rec, thanks for reading for this long. Just do yourself a favour and go read this phenomenal fic. Also go leave kudos and comments!

Honourable mentions also go to Erosmancy, House Proud, The Compact, Reparatio and Slithering, which are some of my other favourites by Astolat.

[ladyathenawisdom]

Trap | Prologue

Warnings: Fluff, Mature Themes, Violence, Corruption, Manipulation, Mentions of Smut, Mentions of Killing.

If anyone asked the Capitol what soulmates looked like, either platonic or romantic, two names would appear in their minds.

Coriolanus Snow and Lalina Trap.

Two of the best students at the Academy in the Capital.

And the President Of Panem and the First Lady of Panem.

Soulmates; It was a word that couldn't even possibly explain the friendship between Lalina Trap and Coriolanus Snow. The two seemed more than that.

They had been the best of friends ever since they had met. Never once leaving the other, no one could see one of them without the other. The two seemed to be in sync, almost as if they were the same person sharing one mind.

But then again, they didn't share the same personalities for no reason at all. The two were good, really good, clever and tactical. Their minds fresh and sharp, cunning and devious all the same. Afterall, the two seemed to click for a reason after all.

Power and Love. They craved it, they wanted it, but more then that; They wanted each other.

But rejection and the ruining of their friendship kept them apart, the fear of losing the other kept them apart. Yet, the two also seemed to want each other because of that. Because the other craved power, because they were devious and psychotic. They were the same person in two different bodies.

But while Coriolanus looked to be devious, Lalina looked innocent. She was a innocent young woman, never letting anyone see her true face. Except her best friend, Corio, she had nicknamed, who knew her truly.

The saying was: Snow Lands On Top

But there was another saying.

Never ever fall in Lalina Trap's trap. She was a trap for a reason, her traps never failed.

Never Fall Into Her Trap.

The two couldn't stand to see other people around the other, they couldn't stand the other getting hurt, emotionally or even physically. They were meant to be, they were meant to be together, they were meant to rule. The perfect power couple.

Two Monsters In Love.

Laughs and cheers were heard all around as the pary commenced, right after the 74th Hunger Games. The two victors had been crowned, surprisingly and not surprisingly of District 12. Then again, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, were the famous love couple. Their gossip and love story had become quite popular and had spread all around the Capitol and the districts.

Katniss walked side by side with her man, a fake smile on her face as she held Peeta's hand as they followed after Haymitch and Effie who was talking about something related to the party.

The female victor looks over in front of her when she hears boisterous laughter, she furrows her eyebrows in confusion. It wasn't surprising to see such loud things happening at a party, buy she could hear the compliments and sweet talks of the ladies and men all around.

As if they were complimenting someone.

Haymich also pauses, something flashes in his eyes as the people move away to reveal a bodyguard. The man turns before he walks to the side, revealing a woman.

Katniss blinked in shock, the woman was absolutely beautiful. She looked fairly old, but that didn't seem to dull her beauty, in fact, it seemed as if it enhanced it. And unlike the fashion of the capital, she was dressed quite simply yet elegantly.

Her platinum blonde hair, almost white, was in a half updo and half down. Her brown eyes were like two doe eyes staring right at her, yet sharp like daggers. Her lips were heart-shaped and painted pink. Her makeup was tame compared to the rest of the Capitol, but she looked beautiful in the simplicity.

She was wearing a long brown gown, smooth and light. She wore light jewelry compared to others, light golden earrings, bracelets around her wrists and a few rings on her fingers. But despite that, the energy that radiated off her was powerful and strong.

Katniss narrows her eyes, spotting the snowflake pendent around her neck, seeing the word 'trap' on it.

Haymitch chuckles, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

The woman's lips immediately break out into a wide smile, looking eager and surprised. "Haymitch!" She exclaims with a chuckle, holding a drink that had a pink liquid in it. "How are you?" She smiles kindly, her doe eyes twinkling.

Haymich smiles, looking tipsy yet knowing where he was currently. "Ahh, just showing the victors where the real party was." He says, looking over at his tributes. "Katniss, Peeta. I want you to meet our lady of Panem. The First Lady Of Panem and President Snow's Wife. Lalina Trap-Snow." He smiles politely.

Lalina's eyes snap towards Peeta and Katniss, eyeing them carefully. "Ahh, yes. The famous couple I've been hearing about, finally getting to meet them." She smiles.

Katniss didn't seem to think the smile was genuine.

Lalina's eyes linger on the pin on Katniss's dress. "What a lovely pin," she remarks, taking a sip of her drink.

Katniss merely nods, looking hesitant.

"You're very beautiful." Peeta says, staring at her in what looked like awe almost.

Katniss side eyes him.

Haymitch coughs.

A laugh bubbles out of Lalina's lips. "Wow, that must be the most genuine thing I have heard from someone other than my husband." She chuckles, clearing her throat as she maintained her posture.

Katniss continued to stare, almost as if analyzing her. She didn't know whether to like the woman or not, she was kind enough. But even kind faces had dark sides that they showed no one. But Lalina Trap-Snow, she seemed to be a mystery.

"Well, you do look quite spectacular this evening." Haymitch says with a nod. "And I don't lie when I'm drunk."

Lalina smirks. "You're always drunk, Haymitch."

"Guilty,"

Peeta chuckles.

Effie smiles, looking surprisingly uncomfortable in the presence of the First Lady of Panem.

"Well, I should not keep you waiting." Haymitch nods, gesturing to the party. "I'm sure you have priorities."

"Oh, don't worry yourself." Lalina says. "I have to go meet Corio anyway. It was an honor meeting the famous love couple." She glances in the direction of Katniss and Peeta. She smiles at them before turning around and walking away, with the man and a few other security guards following behind her at a safe distance.

Effie sighs, breathing out in relief. "Oh, that woman gives me the creeps!" She says quickly and quietly, looking around incase anyone heard.

Katniss and Peeta watch in fascination as the First Lady walks away.

"Don't be fooled by the act," Haymitch speaks up, looking around the gala. "Lalina Trap is a mystery herself. She's said to be more devious then Snow, and that's saying something." His eyes light up when a waiter walks by, he grabs the glass of whiskey and downs it.

Katniss looks back at her. "More then Snow?"

"She seems so...kind." Peeta frowns, looking back at his mentor.

Haymitch chuckles. "Oh, don't fall in her trap. There's a reason she's a Trap, she's clever and knows how to play her part well. She's most likely the only weakness that Snow has, but also his strength. They're both devious and clever." He sighs, shaking his head. "Don't underestimate Lalina Trap. And most importantly, don't fall into her trap, her traps never fail."

Katniss' eyes trail back towards the seemingly kind woman, spotting her walking up to President Snow.

The Victor blinks in surprise when she sees the glimpse of genuine longing in Snow's eyes as he turns to her, his hand grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles gently.

Lalina giggles, her laughter bubbling around as her cheeks turn a pretty pink color.

Katniss watches keenly, looking curious.

Lalina Snow.

Lalina Trap-Snow.

Lalina Trap.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: Marcille Takes Charge!

You know what, this is actually a very fair answer to my earlier question of "why couldn't the ancients just kill the demon?" Points to you again, Ms. Kui.

Truly I can't wait to see, like, every single Mithrun fight scene in the anime. The whole First Floor Incident is presumably going to be Episode 1 of Season 2, and I'm sooo excited.

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At first, I thought the Lion was being snarky here, but in retrospect, knowing its whole story and nature, I think it genuinely is just fond of all its former dungeon lords. What wonderful meals they gave it!

.

That said, the Lion DOES have enough personality to Judge Marcille for her aesthetic choices; and I think that's beautiful :) <3

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MARCILLE, NO! You're showing how corrupted you've become/how you were never suited to this role in the first place by acting directly contrary to explicitly stated themes of the story!

There is, however, something very satisfyingly country-ruling foreshadowy about Laios (and Kabru!) looking down at all of this spread out, though.

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It IS painful watching Kabru try desperately to play both sides, keeping Laios safe from the Canaries without letting him go side with Marcille. Bud, I'm sorry but you HAVE lost control of this situation. And Laios is smart enough to have put everything together about what happened while he was unconscious, even when you deliberately didn't tell him.

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[whispering sternly to myself] It's not fealty. It's NOT fealty. It's the start of a beautiful best-friendship which just so happens to include 1 guy looking at another guy and deciding that yeah, he has good potential to fill the king-shaped hole that guy #1 has been searching to fill - but just, like, on principle; genuinely NOT for any personal emotional need. The best-friendship is a completely unrelated emotional need. The ONLY fealting in this story is, so far as I can tell, between Shuro and his ninja squad, because they're from a completely different culture and, tbh, genre of anime.

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But Laios, conversation is his means and mode! His sword and shield! If he can't talk it out, how is he possibly going to convince you to do anything, including save the world and be his friend?!

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God I love this. It's this perfect combination of "You are my polar opposite; you love the thing (monsters) that I'm terrified of, and I want to know how so I can do that, too, because I'm so tired of terror" and "You love a thing (monsters), understanding it to the point of being very good at killing it, the same way I love a different thing (people); we are the same and I just want you to recognize that like I do so we can happily vibrate on the same frequency forever."

It's very tragic-funny that Kabru genuinely try to introduce himself to Laios in a normal way, before resorting to taking his entire party to stalk him to dangerous levels of the dungeon and eating monsters. It's not his fault that Laios is completely immune to small talk.

I DO think that every pair (or throuple, etc) of narrative foils in every piece of media ever should at least try making out. At a certain point of narrative foiling, you might as well, you know?

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Note: Pattadol says she's "reporting" to Flamela, indicating that she's subordinate within the greater Canary structure even though she's 2nd in command of the most superior hunting party.

Also, it seems that the Canaries we know, the senior-most party, are genuinely the badassest of the badass and meant primarily for advanced dungeons including confronting dungeon lords and the demon directly. Tier-3 groups have less experienced guards, maybe criminals as well, and go on more scouting-type missions with no serious combat expected.

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She's not wrong, she's just a jerk about it!

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I get where the elves are coming from, I do. It's impossible to tell people people that there's a demon underground who'll grant their every wish while also communicating the dangers of this sufficiently that nobody goes searching for it. Even we the reader, don't entirely understand how bad it can get, how fast, until we watch Marcille do All Of That under the demon's active influence.

HOWEVER, it IS human nature to respond to this sort of thing with "well I/my friend won't go insane." There's gotta be a compromise wherein at SOME POINT far down the 'everything is going wrong in this dungeon' line, they just fucking tell people. They at least TRY. Otherwise they're just rolling their eyes at the short-lived races dangerous ignorance while actively refusing to reduce that ignorance.

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Again: Shuro is living in a slightly different, much cooler genre of manga than the rest of us. Also:

TEAM TOUDEN LET'S GOOO!!

The best part of this is that earlier, when our heroes were trying to figure out who might help them eat Falin's dragon half, I was like, 'hmm...they liked you, sure, but eating dragons is pretty weird...'

But now we are outright ALLYING AGAINST THE ELVES!

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Lmao. Classic adventuring party members, baffling NPCs as a team.

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oh this is cruel. this isn't fair.

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boys, focus.

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the comedic timing...

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lookit, that 30 seconds of desperate verbal flailing actually did help! Kinda!

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yeah, I DO really like that everyone looks to Chilchuck for his opinion on Marcille's 'make everyone live to 10,000' plan, as the guy with the shortest present lifespan and also the most age-wise of all of them.

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I Do Not Like This Visual. I Do Not Like the disproportionately large lion with human arms and hands shoving himself out of this book.

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Not to be pedantic, but I think if you're trying to entice a team of people into doing your will by calling out each of their individual strengths, I think you shouldn't make 2 of them as repetitive as "curiosity" and "inquisitive mind." That's not really what Senshi is bringing to the table anyway - I'd say "care" or maybe "sense of balance." Also, sorry Izutsumi but how tf is her "wildness" contributing to this mission?

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oh, Marcille, no...

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Reincarnated Ghouls...

( Co-Made with @artificialmoth !)

CW - Topics of Death (Murder/Suicide/Natural), Child Death, Crimes, Abuse, Ritualistic Sacrifices, and Violence.

Think of it like... A second chance opportunity. To live a life you were never given. To give back for all the sins you've caused. To feel the love of mercy.

Those who have sinned so deviously for torment, those who have felt that torment of innocence, or simply those who were the unlucky chosen ones for a ritualistic sacrifice. The Ministry is picky on who they collect, only those they believe can be "repurposed" and have atonement, or who truly deserves it.

None of the Ghouls remember their human lives, only getting flashes here and there. These flashes mainly attacking those meant to atone, scaring them and guilting them with what they've done. Their files are hidden and only accessible to the Emeritus Line.

At first, Papa Primo chose to pick those who had suffered religiously or those who tormented with religion. Of course, the few of innocent. Secondo didn't enjoy entertaining the fact of redemption or second chances more than he had to. Terzo, who wanted to find those of innocence and grant them kindness while also redeeming those he believed could do better. Copia who chose based on a silent call from his heart, no specific in mind but mainly those who are innocent and accidental.

Omega: A corrupt Politician who took advantage of those in weaker communities and suffering financially. Promising those he was a man of God who'd treat them well only to be the one to assist in their deaths. Assassinated.

Alpha: A community, Christian man who was a good person, but mental health ignored and worsened by his church and fear mongering. Leading him to religious psychosis, killing his family and himself. Suicide.

Chain: A mother who's child ran away, left alone in a search believing for so long that her daughter would come back only for those to whisper she was dead. Grief overtook. Suicide.

Arlo: A desperate man who enrolled himself in conversion therapy to rid of his bisexuality, only to be treated poorly and worsened by their actions. Who was left to the elements, not understanding anything that was happening. Murdered.

Aër: A church goer who had mental health issues, believed to be possessed by a demon. Tied down, water boarded, starved, essentially left to rot to exorcise him of Satan's minions. Murdered.

River: A regular shop owner in the deep south who was targeted once it was revealed they were pagan. Kidnapped from their bed and tortured in the name of the Lord, before being tied to an anchor and drowned. Murdered.

Lake: A preacher who was corrupt and ignored the abuse in his church. Taking bribes, encouraging mistreatment, and casting hate on those who tried reaching for help or spoke out against him. Died naturally.

Pebble & Delta: Lovers who were close to engagement. Randomly targeted for a hate crime, left to watch the other be murdered and received no justice as their attackers were never found. Murdered.

Mist: A full of life young adult, always taking risks before being dared to jump in the lake after heavy rains. The undercurrent getting a hold of her, dragging him with no promise of resurfacing. Accidental Murder.

Zephyr & Ifrit: Long distance lovers who planned to move in together soon, only for Zephyr to be targeted by the cult and kidnapped. Ifrit, desperately tracking them down before offering himself as he couldn't live without them. Ritualistic Sacrifices.

Dewdrop: A Jane Doe sex worker found murdered by a client. Terzo desperate to give a second chance to the innocent. Murdered.

Aether: A surgeon who purposely allowed critical patients to die in hopes of harvesting their organs, wether they were signed up for it or not. Who abused his power before his own disease caught up to him. Died naturally.

Mountain: A college student who wanted to relax with his crush before finals, accidentally making said crush overdose and die in his arms. Grief overtook him and in a drug induced state, hung himself. Suicide.

Swiss: A college student who wanted to relax with his crush before finals, accidentally overdosing and dying quietly in his crushes arms. Accidental Murder.

Rain: A mute university student who was a victim of a crime, who did everything right, but received harassment and eventually their perpetrator found not guilty. Guilt overtook them. Suicide.

Cirrus: An older woman who just wanted to briefly escape life and enjoy time with her friends late one night, getting into a vehicle with her friends who were drunk. Accidental Murder.

Cumulus: A married woman who had two twin daughters, being abused by her own wife before finally murdering her. She was sentenced to the death penalty. Lawful Murder.

Sunshine: A serial killer who enjoyed being the center of attention from all the reports on her, only to accidentally encounter the cult and volunteer herself after being promised more attention. Ritualistic Sacrifice.

Phantom & Aurora: Children who were victims of deep religion, who's parents murdered them after CPS had begun to get involved after abused was documented. Murdered.

The clergy has shown great success rates with this reincarnation program, those who sinned giving back and those taken enjoying comfort they never had.

Anyways I have a WHOLE bunch of these guys written out if anyone is curious and wants to ask. Just lmk who and I'll post em :3 /Nf

[kuni-is-daddy]

Fear.

DOM!Shouki no kami x SUB! lessor lord Reader

Trigger warning: non consensual, corruption?

lowkey filth in the smut part. 1.2k words

Scara fic list

PART 2: IN FIC LIST.

MINORS DO. NOT. INTERACT.❌❌❌

You we're no combatant. Fighting to your last breath alone in the joururi workshop. A bitter cold domain underground that made your hairs stand on end. Yet here you we're alone 1000+ feet in the air dangling by the grip of your celestial written weapon against a reformed god.

"Pathetic. now your a waste of space, as useless alive or dead. No wonder your the lessor lord." I can try to help you, even give you a real home. Real love. "I never mistook you as some sort of fool 'God of wisdom' everyone's abandoned me. You think I care or need your sympathy because your scared of your little green house of a nation being destroyed? That itll justify the selfishness of you GODS and those that betrayed me? Your no different then them."

"N-No that's not what I meant. I'm genially trying to help you. Sure i won't give you the revenge you want but-" he cut you off. "Then your useless. I will take revenge upon the Raiden shogun. No.. my creator. And Im starting with you, lessor lord Y/n. My mother always talked about how she admires your humility. I want to see you crumble in the face of a True God. Your era. Is coming to an end.

Fear. In that moment you we're truly scared for your life. You went into this fight hoping you would win, maybe to even convince the New god's mind. But You we're defenseless. Weapon in the hand of the enemy. Kunikuzushi laughed at your fear. "Look at how you tremble y/n. How does that feel? How does it feel to be nothing. To not have control of your own piece of shit life?" You we're brought up to the god within contact. He placed his cold hand around your neck. Rubbing slowly. Then pressing. A cold smirk emerged..along with a visible tent in his pants. Enjoying how your eyes tear and roll back. How your tight grip around his arms slowly lessen

"I..is this..what you wanted..? Your all strapped to-to tubes and electro energy like some sort of....of...puppet..." you choked out as he raised you against the internal walls of the no kami.

"I want you. Y/n. And I will, have you."

SMUTT

"F-fuck yeah.. Thats it y/n. suck my cock. Just like that. embrace it." Your hands we're tied via a electro binding he put on your neck, the trail of his energy flowed through your body. You couldnt do anything but make him feel good. nor save yourself. He gripped tighter on your hair. "Back and forth..backk..and..forthh" He chanted as you sucked the gods cock "ah~ this is how your going to celebrate my rebirth. Suck your gods cock just like that. Make your fucking pathetic self useful just f' me." Continuous tears poured down your eyes at how used your little throat felt. How useless you felt. "Ngh shit.. im gonna cum. F..fuck....FUCKK~" He grabbed your head hard and slammed his cock deep down your throat. You internally screamed and choked on his cum oozing down your throat. He pushed you back and you fell against the wall. tongue gaping out and breathing hard. "K-kuni.." you moaned. he liked that. "Say my name again." This sick fuck was getting off to you being helpless and begging for him to stop. "Say it. Say your gods name y\n"

You kept your mouth shut and looked away from his eyes. He grabbed you by your cape, holding your dendro vision and jerked you towards the floor. "Say. My. Fucking name y/n. Or ill make you say it." he stared at you. "Then make me you bastard." you said coldly and spat at his face. realizing what you did. you tried to make the most of your abused throat "y-you make me feel so f-fucking dirty. why- why would you do this to me. I wanted to help you." He laughed. "Because thats what you are y/n. My slut. your gonna make daddy feel good, thats how you'll make yourself useful to your people" He turned you around and wasted no time putting two of his fingers inside of you "AH~ K-KUNI. IT HURTS-" realizing you said his name you tried to cover your mouth, but got shocked by the electro seal for "Disobeying"

"its only two fingers y/n... if your like this then how are you going to take my load inside of you. how am i going to breed you." he sighed. "N-NO KUNI- I DONT WANT IT.. P-PLEASE AH~" suddenly his fingers pulled away and it was silent. You slowly turned your head to be greeted by his hand pressing you hard face down ass up on the floor of the no kami. His cock pushed deep inside of you making you see stars in an instant. "Im gonna make a pathetic archon like you, Drunk on my cock. Some god of wisdom you are~"

He thrusted inside of you slowly as your tight hole adjusted to his big length. "Kuni~~ P-Please.." Your tongue stuck out again at how his cock stretched you inside. "S-shit you feel so fucking warm y/n..How did you feel when i choked you? Did you get fucking wet for me? Was this your pathetic idea from the start? to fight me knowing you cant win just to get my cock shoved inside of you and make you my cum dumpster?" he slapped your ass. "Y-YES KUNI!!! i- mPh.. I wanna be your cuHm dumpster daddy." You started to loose hope and fall into the lustful feeling he gave you. It was wrong, but it felt so fucking good. The way you'd get shocked when moving too far with your arms. The way his cock filled you perfectly. Just imagine how his warm seed would feel inside of you. filling you up. "Mmm Daddy..K-Kuni.. Please. Please.. give me your cum. Ah~ I want it. I want it~" you moaned pathetically. "Fuck.. Submit to this cock Y/n. Beg for me. Beg for my seed. Like the fucking animal you archons are. Take your god, Your majesty. Your everythings cock. As you should. Beg for me to cum inside you."

[dust-jacket-analysis]

With the recent potential developments in the My Hero Cannon lately, shipping discourse is at an all time high. Spoilers, by the way.

Izuocha is allegedly made canon in some sort of final chapter of My Hero. And the Togachako and Bakudeku shippers are screaming, crying, throwing up. The Izuocha shippers are ecstatic, and everyone else is watching this absolute dumpster fire of a situation develop. And with this all, some feelings have been spun up. So I'm gonna talk about it.

First and foremost, Izuocha was always going to be canon. Sorry, not sorry. It was implied from the get go. Right off the bat a mutual crush was confirmed. While it focused more on Ochako's feelings, Deku definitely felt the same as the series progressed. All the blushing and awkward tension was there. And I say this not to invalidate the other ships, we'll get too that. But because this is pure fact I want established.

Now, it being well written, is another story. Obviously My Hero was never intended to be a romance. It is a Shonen anime, mainly action. While also making social commentary on corrupt governments, and discriminatory social systems. Those were always the main themes and points of the series. With Bakugou and Deku's complicated dynamic being second to that, and everything else prioritized after this. so naturally Izuku and Ochako's romantic relationship would not be as focused on. Hence why it's writing is not as good. It's just important to clarify this.

Which brings us to my actual main gripe with the whole situation. The way this fandom is invalidating not only just shipping, but relationship dynamics as a whole. And I've seen this with a LOT of fandoms. People tend to find they're OTP and stick to it. Buying their heads in the sand like Ostrich's when it comes to any other dynamics those two characters may have. People will say "My ship makes the most sense, and all the other ships are ridiculous," or, "I can't see them being anything more than platonic. My ship however, is meaningful and romantic."

That all lowkey pisses me off. Because when pushing that we forget a key detail of the human experience. As we go through our lives we meet hundreds of people. Form hundreds of group and individual dynamics, forge relationships with these different people we meet.

It's the beauty of being creatures with consciousness. Because we don't just meet someone, breed and die. We meet so many people who are all unique in their wants and desires. Different life goals and motivations. Different experiences that've shaped them.

Toga met Ochako. A girl who understood her more than anyone she'd met before. Who didn't see her just as the villain she'd become, but the girl she'd been and was still. A connection that meant something. But she also had the League of Villains, and Twice. People she'd found home and family in. As twisted as it was. Another meaningful connection in her life.

Bakugou Deku's dynamic is a huge section of conflict throughout the story. Despite that though, through all their ups and downs, they help each other grow. Become better Hero's and, in Bakugous case specifically, better people. It's meaningful. But Bakugou also meets Kirishima. One of the first people to ignore his threats and anger, her shouting. To put himself next to Bakugou and say "I want to be your equal. Your friend." And Kirishima plays a big role in softening Bakugou. And Bakugou helps Kirishima with his confidence. It's meaningful.

Just like how Deku and Todoroki's dynamic is important for both. Deku helps Todoroki to understand he does not have to hide parts of himself to spite his father. "It's yours! Your quirk, not his!" It's a huge break through for Todoroki. And in turn Todoroki is one of the people that helps Deku realize he can ask for help, he can lean on his friends. That needing support isn't weak (a lesson Deku also helped him learn), and that it doesn't make you a bad hero.

And Deku and Ochako. She's one of the first people to truly believe in him. To look at him and say he will make a good hero. One of his first friends. And Deku helps Ochako in that same way. He also inspires her to work harder and eventually she realizes she wants to be a rescue based Hero.

But Ochako also meets Toga. A girl cast out by society for her quirk, which she uses unashamedly. It helps Ochako see villains in a different light. One of empathy and understanding. While she still wishes to hold them accountable, she now sees the circumstances for how villain's are made. And she makes it her life to help other Children with quirks like Toga's to not become villains through quirk counseling. It's meaningful. All of these different dynamics shape the characters in different aspects of their lives and personality. Each dynamic is important, just as much so as the next. Whether platonic, romantic, or otherwise. They mattered. To invalidate that because it's not a ship you like is asinine.

Also, people can fall in love with more than one person. Toga fell in love for both Deku and Ochako, on different levels. And I argue Ochako did the same. Deku can love Ochako, Bakugou and Todoroki too. Bakugou can love Deku and Kirishima. People can fall in love more than once, regardless of who ends up with who.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what's canon. It never has. Fandom has never cared or let it hinder the way it operates on tumblr, ao3, etc. You still get meaningful dynamics in the source material. Relationships that shaped the characters and their story.