#it's the way the master HAS to hurt him yet catches him before he falls... throws him aside anyway yet instantly lowers to his level..

[marinettesaltprompts]

A Forever Grudge

Prompt by @indigomarina

Prompt: What if Season 1-3 Marinette being nice/cordial with Kim and wanting Chloe to be better was just a ploy? In reality, she still pissed at Kim and Chloe for what they did and what he put her through. All this time, she’s had a secret revenge board she’s never told anyone (not even Alya and Tikki is shocked and terrified when SHE finds out). So when she’s finally decided the time has come to exact her revenge. Marinette sets it up, staying up days and nights for the perfect revenge.

This is Derision salt (but for Marinette), some kwami swap and a smidge of salt towards class salt.(This turned out to be longer than I thought.)

(There is some fanon discontinuity and some context: this Marinette is uncomfortable in episodes where she’s going to the pool like Gorizilla or Mr. Pigeon 72. Chloe’s redemption wasn’t cut off and she kept her identity a secret. Zoe isn’t here or at least hasn’t appeared yet, so Chloe’s still the go-to bee miraculous holder. The Derision flashback happens but the ‘Dark Humor’ stuff doesn’t happen. Kim’s genuinely become a better person by this point. Something similar happened with @socquelix ’s prompt, where Marinette ghosted Socqueline, so she’s not happy to see her.)

It affects her duties as Ladybug as she’s too exhausted to do anything outside of Lucky Charms and purifying the akuma. Thankfully for the civilians, Chat picks up the slack. When he asks Ladybug what’s up, Ladybug just says she has some planning. Chat firmly tells her to get some sleep before someone ends up severely hurt.

One day, Marinette falls asleep outside and slips up a ledge, thankfully Chat Noir gets there in time. Marinette is still fast asleep, so he takes her back to her house. He puts her on her bed, he goes to leave when he notices something on her table. Curiosity kills the cat and Chat reads the papers. He’s horrified reading about Marinette’s revenge plan. Creeped out, he backs away until he finds his schedule written down. Chat is terrified, he knew she was a fan, but this is too much! He keeps himself quiet as to not wake Marinette. He snaps some pictures and gets out of there.

The day of Marinette’s plan arrives but something’s wrong, Chloe and Kim aren’t where they’re supposed to be! All of Marinette’s plans either backfire or hit other students. It turns out Adrien had texted Chloe and Kim Marinette’s plan. Chloe confronts Marinette and Marinette yells this is payback for what she and Kim did. Chloe and Kim are appalled that’s the reason. Not because it wasn’t bad, but because Kim thought Marinette and him were cool and Marinette encouraged Chloe to be better. Marinette says she only said those things so they would think she was okay with happened. She hates them both and doesn’t give a damn if they have 'changed’.

Both Chloe and Kim are hurt/offended by this, so Chloe reveals something else Adrien texted her: Adrien’s schedule in her room! People are horrified and Marinette runs away.

Marinette runs into an alleyway and says 'Spots On’ but Tikki doesn’t come to her. Wayzz had removed the earrings when Marinette finally slept. Feeling truly alone, Hawk Moth is able to akumatize her into Princess Justice.

Like her grandmother Gina (Befana), she punishes people and 'rewards’ them as she sees fit. She rewards Juleka and Luka.

She punished Kagami, Rose, Mylene, and most of the class. Kagami because she took Adrien away, the others for believing Lila’s lies over her.

She’s about to 'reward’ Alya but Nino pushes her out the way and takes it instead. Alya is sad but gets away.

She catches after Kim, Chloe having managed to get away.

Adrien transforms into Chat Noir. Princess Justice gets upset, such a 'lazy superhero’ is here. Chat offended points out, he’s been picking up the slack for Ladybug. This gets Princess Justice upset and she and Chat duke it out. He gets his butt handed to him, wondering where Ladybug was. He has to retreat.

He runs to Master Fu’s. He explains things the best he can, but he’s hit with the bombshell that Master Fu has the ladybug Miraculous. He’s vague about why Ladybug can’t be there but tells him he needs to find replacements and use the other miraculous.

Adrien decides to briefly become Mister Bug. He also takes the bee Miraculous, the fox, the dragon, and the monkey. When Fu inquires what’s he going to do with Plagg, MB says he has a plan.

MisterBug finds Chloe and gives her Plagg. Chloe is confused but obliges. She becomes Golden Kitty. 

Mister Bug gives Alya Trixx to become Rena Rouge. Since Chloe has Plagg and Kagami’s been 'punished’, MB has to find alternates.

He finds Socqueline, an ex-friend of Marinette, and lends her Pollen. She becomes Mìfēng. They find Ondine, whose worried sick about Princess Justice finding her boyfriend, so MB gives her the Dragon Miraculous and she becomes Triple Threat.

Back with Princess Justice, she has Kim right where she wants him. Kim apologizes and pleads for his life, but Princess Justice wants blood. She’s about to punish him where a gust of wind blow her away and Triple Threat is able to save Kim. 

Kim doesn’t recognize his girlfriend, but is grateful for the save. Triple Threat and Mìfēng have some trouble since they’re using the miraculous for the first time, plus even Golden Kitty is a little rusty since she’s using a different miraculous. But they manage to distract Princess Justice long enough for Misterbug to lead Kim the monkey miraculous.

Misterbug calls for his lucky charm and out comes a heart shaped box. An empty heart shaped box. He’s confused until Kim points out he gave Marinette a box like that, but it was filled with spiders.

Misterbug shows up in the flesh to battle Princess Justice himself. Princess Justice yells about could an idiot like him hold HER miraculous! Misterbug is confused until it hits him! Marinette is Ladybug! No wonder she’s been so flighty for the best few times.

Misterbug gets over his shock and pulls out the plan, pointing out Kim is behind her. Princess Justice looks behind and HE’S RIGHT! Kim is there and holding a familar looking heart shaped box. Princess Justice runs after him.

She aims at him, but he keeps dodging! Finally she has him in an alley way, he dropped the box. Princess Justice decides she’s going to give him a taste of his own medicine. She opens the box…and nothing comes out. Princess Justice looked out to see Kim was gone and then felt a sharp pain hit her. She fell to the ground.

She sees Rena Rouge, who apologizes before saying 'NOW’. Everyone springs into action. King Monkey uses Uproar, so Princess Justice can’t use her reward or punish powers anymore. Misterbug tries her up with his yo-yo and Mìfēng uses Venon, making sure she can’t get away. Finally, Golden Kitty cataclysming the akumatized item, having Misterbug 'Miraculous Misterbug’ away all the damage.

Marinette growls before saying it’s not fair, how they got away with everything while she was left scared by everything that happened. Goldenkitty and King Monkey do look ashamed for a minute but Misterbug says that while what happened to her was terrible, that doesn’t excuse what did or tried to do to them.

Marinette is sent home without her miraculous. Everyone gives Misterbug back their miraculous. Adrien asks what’s going to happen to Marinette since 1. he knows her identity and 2. some videos of Princess Justice admitting to being Ladybug have come out and people have connected the dots on what that means.

Master Fu says he’ll figure something out and tells him to take care of Tikki in the meantime.

Back with Marinette, she’s been hearing whispers about her in school. Either how she was grudge bearing stalker creep or about how she was Ladybug. Most of her classmates won’t talk to her either or are no longer friends with her.

The civil ones are terrified that they do something they don’t like she’ll plan something terrible against them. And the angry ones are upset that Marinette is still mad about the Lila thing, pointing out that since Chloe revealed her board of Adrien’s schedule that that points their point she’s only after her out of jealousy if anything.

Kim and Chloe are surprisingly quiet, wanting this whole thing to be over.

Gabriel has issued a retraining order against Marinette, the news about her stalking having reached him, horrifying Marinette. Adrien feels sorry for Marinette but also now feels uncomfortable around her, so he allows this to happen.

Finally, Marinette asks Fu if she’s going to get Tikki back. He tells her no, not only because of her actions against others, but everyone knows she’s Ladybug. Marinette pleads, but Fu is firm.

Later Adrien is upset about how things are going when Luka comes up to him and comforts him. Adrien tells Luka he knew Marinette was a fan but didn’t know she was THAT intense about it. He also admits he feels sorry for Marinette (albeit more pity than sympathy). Luka admit he also didn’t know she was like this. But he tells Adrien it’s okay to be upset about how things went and that he can feel sorry for her as long as he doesn’t condone her actions. Adrien gives him a grateful hug and says Marinette was a fool to lead him on, making Luka flattered.

Eventually, another ladybug is found: Coccinelle. Tikki was given to Luka. So Plagg is back with Adrien and Chloe will become Queen Bee is the bee is needed. With the Miracuclass back to normal, Longg is typically assumed to go back with being Kagami’s holder. Although Adrien recommends Socqueline take the snake. He points out they could use Ondine in the future.

Together Coccinelle and Chat Noir now save Paris together.

[chuluoyi]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 (𝐔𝐍)𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋

- sylus x reader

master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, fluff, unrequited love, explicit smut, fwb, jealousy, hurt/comfort, description of major injury, blood loss, gore, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), spoilers! takes place throughout long-awaited revelry

note: my very first love and deepspace fic! :') w.c 5.2k ! i have a severe brainrot omg

Everyone knows of your relationship with Sylus.

The leader of Onychinus and his notorious lady assassin, you two strike fear into his foes and allies alike. You are as deadly as you are beautiful, and that's more or less why he keeps you around.

What everyone doesn't know, however... is that behind closed doors, you too share his wealth and his bed.

“I don't mind to spend the whole night with you,” he’d whisper in your ear seductively at nights, deft and veiny hands roaming your body all over. He often made you ride on top of him, dark burgundy eyes hazed with lust, knowing full well that you desired the very same goal he did.

And you’d respond his hunger with the same fervor, crashing your lips into his, your tongues intertwining, your hips moving vigorously against him.

“Ahh... ah!” Before you knew it, his cock—thick and long in size—slid inside you in such a snug fit, making you throw your head back and dig your sharp nails into his skin.

“Keep me going with your voice, kitten.” Sylus growled, eyeing your wobbling lips and tightly-pressed eyes as he sank even deeper inside you. “Yeah, just like that...”

Sylus always began roughly, seemingly not minding your breathless moans and wishes, and you liked him that way too—

“Is this... all you've got?” you panted in a hoarse voice, sweat lining your neck and forehead, the coil in your belly tightened so deliciously each time he thrusted into you. “Surely... y-you can do better...”

“Ha,” he gave a low snort, his red eyes blazing as he grabbed your bum and squeezed it, making you gasp. “Careful what you wish for... sweetie.”

And then your vision literally tilted upside down—Sylus gladly flipped your position so he could see you even better. This way, he also had even better access to you, intertwining your hand with his, spreading your legs wide so he could rut into you.

“—!” Breath was knocked out of your lungs as immeasurable pleasure washed over you, crashing and receding in an instant. You almost screamed as your back arched.

He broke into a satisfied smirk. “Let it out,” he murmured against your neck, biting gently into your skin, voice muffled. “You never hold back with me, do you, hmm? So, don’t start now.”

“You b-bastard...” you looked up at him with a breathless smile, knowing how close you were to losing your wits.

He simply made your nights worth remember. His allure was undeniable, with a voice that was naturally sultry. And his hands... fuck, they did heaven's work.

It didn't take you long to finally reach your climax, and once you did, your moans were the nastiest all night as you continuously lined his back with scratches.

You could feel how he was chasing his own orgasm all the while, before pulling out right at the last minute and made a mess on your belly, falling beside you.

“Tired?” Sylus’ chest rumbled with laughter as you laid sprawled there in a haze. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your burning cheeks. “I really like this look on your face right now.”

You rolled your eyes, catching your breath and shivered. “I bet you tell that to all other women you manage to lure to your bed.”

“How presumptuous.” He sent you a sour scowl. “I have a high standard— you should consider yourself lucky.”

Well, you do. Holding back a smile, you changed the topic. “I’m cold. Clean me up already.”

“Now, now… what a spoiled little thing you are…” Sylus chuckled, his voice deep and low, yet wrapping his arms around you nonetheless, hoisting you up.

Nights of passion. Mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more and less.

No strings attached.

This is thrilling. Intimacy without commitment is more than enough to spice your checkered life. After all, what could be better and more rewarding than fucking the hottest man in N109 Zone and getting away with it?

At least, you thought so.

. . .

“Damn, you’re going to make me sore…” you grumbled, letting out a deep sigh as you sank into the sheets after he had cleaned you up, still basking in the afterglow and ready to drift off to sleep. “Ahh...”

Sylus’ lips curved into a wry smile as he watched you make yourself comfortable on his bed, slipping on his black shirt. “Well, I’m just that good, and you did ask for it.”

“Are you going out?” you asked in a small voice, teetering between sleep and wakefulness as you noticed him taking out his favorite gun. “It’s midnight.”

“Luke and Kieran said she has arrived.” Sylus said in low voice, not even sparing you a look. “After all, she has gone through all that trouble to come here, it is only right that I greet her myself.”

The woman. Sylus had told you several times, how a woman with Aether Core and powerful Resonance Evol would eventually come to N109 Zone. And that when the time came, he would make her resonate with him.

A part of you didn’t really know what to feel about this vague plan of his. “Will you bring her here too?”

“I’ll have her stay here until we have reached resonance,” he responded casually while shrugging on his coat.

Sylus valued others depending on their worth. He said it so himself—he isn't a philanthropist. He saw potential in your evol—the Speech Manipulation—which is why he rescued you three years ago, even after you had swung a blade to his throat.

This time must be the same. You played with the edges of your hair. “Well, consider me jealous then. Seems like I’ll have a rival soon.”

Your quip finally caught his attention, as he finally turned to you, one side of his mouth upturned.

“Ha.” Sylus strolled over to where you lay on the bed and placed a hand under your chin, letting out a throaty chuckle. “Is there even anyone brave enough to go against you?”

You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “We shall see about that.”

Little did you know, the coming of this new girl would be the start of the undoing of your mutually beneficial relationship.

You would've expected the woman bearing Aether Core inside her to be way more interesting than that clueless, weak and easily spooked hunter from Linkon City.

But your and Sylus' definitions of interesting clearly differed though, as you caught him smiling after he pulled the most outrageous stunt on himself— having her shoot him right in the heart.

“She is funny,” he said to himself, almost snickering even as you wiped the blood off his toned body. “She was shaking so much the moment I pulled the trigger.”

“Is that your only finding—” you snapped as you wrapped the bandage around his bare chest, fuming. “—after shooting yourself just to mess with her?”

Luke and Kieran told you how he had used his Evol to pull the hunter girl onto his lap, then handed her a gun and made her shoot him. You couldn't believe it at first, until the sight of Sylus staggering to his bedroom, his shirt bloodied and clutching his chest made you almost scream in horror.

“Is that really necessary?” you scowled, tightening the bandage with more force than needed. “Or are you just trying to get her attention?”

Sylus’ sharp gaze settled on you then, seemingly not taking your comment well.

“What’s got you so worked up about this, hmm?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he observed your cross expression. “Last I checked, we agreed not to get involved in each other’s personal affairs.”

Personal affairs, he said? Everything you two had done had long past breached all personal boundaries.

But the fact remains that you two are nothing more than—

“Fine.” You tied the bandage abruptly and about to storm off, making no effort to conceal your ire. You couldn’t say you were worried or that you hated seeing blood smeared across him. That was never in the agreement.

Until you felt a hard tug on your arm—

“And where does the angry kitty think she is going, hmm?”

Before you could discern it, your back was pressed against the wall—your left arm pinned beside your head, with Sylus filling your view.

His sculpted abs were right in front of you for the taking, his scent permeated the air, and his unsettling swirls of crimson eyes had you completely captivated.

“Have I ever told you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?” Sylus laughed as he leaned in, gripping your chin with his other hand. “If I didn’t know you were more than capable of slitting my throat in my sleep, I’d want you to look at me like this every day.”

It struck you how your heart raced wildly under his intense gaze. With his perfect face so close, the only sound that seemed to be most prominent was the pounding of your own heartbeat.

“What’s wrong? We’ve been closer than this,” Sylus taunted with a wide grin, his breath warm against your ear as he pressed his body against yours. “What’s making you so nervous?”

If you knew anything about Sylus, it was that he took pleasure in seeing you squirm in his hold. You glared daggers at him. “I hate you.”

“How lovely.”

“You’re infuriating,” you spat, devoid of any amusement.

He barked a satisfied bout of laugh once again, before releasing your chin. However, to your surprise, that very same hand groped your chest roughly—

“Then perhaps...” he hummed, a wicked glint in his red eyes, whispering to you with sultry voice right before he pulled you into him and devour your lips in heat: “You can help to fix me, sweetie.”

His kisses were hot as his tongue and hands made his mark on your body. Pressed against his bare skin, you gripped his strong, broad shoulders as he lifted your legs to his waist.

As always, he managed to dissolve all your lingering thoughts with lust. You just never knew one day you would finally reach the last straw though.

. . .

"Are you going out again tonight?" you muttered, tracing your fingers along his abs as you lay in his arms, still a bit giddy after your passionate session.

"No, I'm sleepy," he replied quickly, his voice low as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep already, kitten."

"I can't sleep."

"Poor you. I can though."

You quirked a frown at him. "You're so annoying these days."

"Oh?" Sylus cracked his eyes open, a smirk on his lips. "If you find me so disagreeable, you can always make me obey you, no?"

Your speech manipulation could make people do your bidding and it was a pretty useful talent. Apart from the first day you met Sylus three years ago in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you had never tried using it on him again.

"I won't, you idiot." You sighed and turned away, your back facing him. The idea of bending him to your will somehow didn't sit right with you. It was against your conscience now.

"Why are you facing away? It's freezing," he grumbled almost in a petulant voice. You nearly rolled your eyes, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.

"Why are you hugging me? We’re not usually this touchy after sex."

"I'm telling you, I'm cold, and you're my heat pillow."

"You're so damn insufferable..."

Despite your sharp retort, a smile found its way to your face. Moments like this were rare, and when he was the one seeking you, you couldn't help these butterflies in your stomach. Still...

You two are not in love, dammit. Sometimes it confused you a great deal. What is love anyway?

“Caw, caw, caw!”

“Mephisto, shush.”

Sylus’ robotic pet crow had surprisingly taken a liking to you shortly after you began living in the base. He obeyed your commands just as he did with his owner. The same couldn’t be said for Miss Hunter though, as Mephisto seemed to have a strong dislike for her.

You were idling at the living room with the crow when you realized how close it was to dawn.

“Luke, Kieran,” you called to the twins, who were bickering over a crate of oranges, frowning. “Where did Sylus go?”

Both stopped and looked at you, and Kieran blurted out, “Boss? Oh, he went out with Miss Hunter!”

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were nonetheless. “And he still hasn’t come back?”

“Ah, yeah... but I think they just went on a short errand. He’s probably back or already on his way?” Luke mused, and you clicked your tongue.

It irritated you, it gnawed at you—how Sylus had been spending so much time with that hunter these days. He was trying to make her resonate with him, but still, the way you saw it, he was going through his playbook—

Just as he had done when he pursued you.

Calling her “kitten”, “sweetie”... everything he did with her seemed like a replay of the first year you spent in this place.

Deep down, perhaps you had hoped that, in some way, Sylus would see you as you saw him. Love might be out of reach in your bleak existences, but you at least wished he would consider you an irreplaceable presence.

You were petty, and you knew it.

“Mephisto,” you whispered to the cooing crow as it turned to you pliantly. “Go find and bother her, okay? Don’t let her out of your sight,” you added, letting the bird fly away on your command.

Deciding to rest in his room, you left the living room with a sense of exhaustion. You had stayed up for Sylus on a whim, as he had promised to share his plans for the upcoming auction soon. However, sleeping at dawn was giving you frequent headaches, and the habit was wearing on you.

You took a bath and then headed to his bedroom, and you would have never guessed what scene you'd walk into—

Sylus, in his bathrobe, and that girl… nestled against his chest on his bed. The very same bed where you two made out just the other night.

“Y/N?” Sylus looked at you over the girl’s shoulder, and you were frozen on the spot, feeling an indescribable rush of emotions washing over you.

In the next moment, the hunter girl scrambled away from him in panic, her face flushed with shame. “I-it’s not what it looks like! I swear! Sylus— I was just trying to find his brooch and—!”

In that instant, something inside you turned ice-cold. Her frantic explanations—none of it registered to you. The fact that he let her into his bed was enough for you.

You weren’t sure if Sylus noticed, but your eyes darkened, your fists clenched, and a storm raged within your chest.

“Sorry for intruding,” you said frostily, cutting her off and casting a contemptuous glance at both of them before turning on your heel and slamming the door shut.

It was no use, you finally realized. In this twisted relationship you two shared, there could never be anything more than hot sex and flirtations.

Somehow it hurt more deeply than you expected, as though your heart were being scorched. Yet, you couldn’t even find the tears to cry—as you weren't allowed to do so.

Sylus noticed the change in you immediately.

You vanished from the base and returned in the evening, not sparing him even a look and he could tell then that you had come back a different woman.

And it was the part he hated the most. These days, he couldn't read you at all.

"Luke and Kieran, keep an eye on her tonight," he instructed his two underlings as the two of them were getting ready.

"Who? Miss Hunter?" Luke questioned.

"Or the missus?" Kieran supplied.

Both of them liked you as well. Unlike him, you’d spend your free time indulging their nonsense, and over time, they even gave you that friendly moniker.

They didn't really know the nature of your physical relationship though. Or at least, didn't really know fully.

"The latter," Sylus gruffly replied, and then he went to the hunter girl to prepare her as well.

He had a justified explanation. If you had asked him, he would tell you nothing had happened. Your ire was better than silence, definitely a hundred times better than this.

But why didn't you come to him?

And why does he want you to come and demand him for an explanation?

However, tonight was the auction for the Aether Core. He had to finish this first before he could get a word with you later.

At least that was what Sylus had thought... until he saw you at the auction venue.

You were stunning in that black cocktail dress. He didn’t know when you had your hair done, but you looked as if you had spent the entire day preparing for this occasion despite having barely two hours after coming back. You were definitely a head-turner, drawing the attention of many vermin as you navigated the ballroom with grace and everlasting smile.

And it grated at him. Severely. Sylus's eyes were locked on each lowlife hell-bent on taking his life and desperate to get into your pants, knowing he would end them all tonight.

...and as if it wasn't enough, he then saw you entertaining one of them with that sort of smile you used to reserve for him.

. . .

"Mm-hm, really?"

"Yes, I've heard they are inside the safe number 209."

You coyly smirked, looking the man with mask in front of you, whom you had led to a deserted hallway, who had been complying and smiling at each and every question of yours.

"Thank you then." You flashed him your best smile, about to go back to the main hall.

"And uh, miss," he suddenly turned to you in a flurry. "I believe I haven't gotten your name—"

You chuckled, facing him again. "Oh, you want to know my name?"

"Very much so!"

This was like bread and butter to you. You effortlessly wrapped an arm around the man's neck, standing on your tiptoes, and whispered in his ear:

"Halt."

He went rigid the moment the command left your lips, and you could feel his panic rising as you pulled away.

"W-what happened—!?" he thrashed against the invisible hold manifested by your Evol in pure panic, to no avail, whereas you regarded at him with a cold smile.

"What a shame. I planned to let you be, but then you gave me the perfect opportunity." You maintained your eerie smile as you pulled out a thin, needle-like blade from the hem of your dress. "You have been a great help. Thank you."

With that, you slit his throat, and blood splattered onto the ground in a continuous pool as he jerked, collapsing like a broken statue.

You felt nothing at the sight, but you knew you weren't alone as you felt his presence.

"You started the party without me?" Sylus' deep voice resonated through the hall. "Didn't know you have that much of bloodlust this early, sweetie."

The clench of your heart was still there, even when you had decided to discard all your lingering feelings for this man. Still, you put on the perfect poker face when you met his eyes.

"I want this to be over and done with quick. I'm exhausted already."

Sylus eyed you calmly, yet somehow it felt as if the depths of those red eyes were trying to assess your soul. "Your actions said otherwise. Is flirting with him necessary?"

"You're one to talk, Boss," you scoffed at the last word. "As long as it entertains me, why isn't it?"

Sylus didn't deign you with an answer, and you decided to pour more oil into it.

"Strictly professional, no?" You lifted your chin defiantly. "Last I checked, we were not supposed to meddle in personal affairs—"

You didn't realize it until he did, because the next thing you knew, his right eye suddenly glowed with that terrifying shade of crimson. "You—!"

He has seen it all. In the three years since he took you in, Sylus had never used his Aether Core-infused right eye on you to peek into your mind. The first and only time it had happened was when he restrained you from attacking him on the day you first met.

This was the second time. And now, he knows. Of your petty feelings, of your deepest, truest desire.

At first, Sylus remained silent, but then his eyes narrowed at you, low voice booming through the hall.

"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Y/N."

And after all that he knew, that was the only thing he could come up with?

You felt shame wash over you. You wanted to run from him. This was too much because he most definitely didn’t reciprocate your feelings, did he?

"I don't want to hear it," you resolved, the space around you felt constricting all of a sudden. You walked past him, about to break into a sprint—

Sylus immediately caught a hold of your arm though, sending a glare at you. "You—"

"It ends here," you blurted in heat. "I don't want it anymore. We're through, Sylus."

"Listen to me!"

He snarled at you, and it was the very first time he did so. However, you paid him no mind and pulled out your ace card, staring hard into his eyes. You could feel the start of his black and red mist, but your Evol was faster—

"Move."

His hold on you loosened, and he jerked back several foot away from the impact. You kept your manipulation on him, avoiding his fury-blazed eyes, bolting away before he could catch you.

. . .

The night escalated so much worse than you had imagined. Explosions and a sudden appearance of an Arbiterwings threw the whole auction into chaos.

You were fighting off the sudden wave of wanderers alone, relying solely on your blade since your voice was too hoarse to use your Evol. When one of them struck you and sent you crashing into a wall, you just sat there in a daze.

It was exhausting. Usually, Sylus would be by your side, covering your back at the very least. He wouldn't let a single scratch get to you. His black and red mist of doom would dominate the battlefield, offering you protection while at it.

You loved that bastard. It was so beyond stupid. Why did you have to ruin everything by having these feelings? If your heart was gone, would these feelings go with it too?

You got your answer sooner than you thought.

White-hot pain engulfed you when something impaled you right in the chest. The searing agony was mind-blinding, the only thing you could discern was your own wails.

No, the feelings didn’t go. Even as you teetered on the brink of death, that damned love only evolved into many regrets.

And in your final moments, you could've sworn you felt the exact moment your heart stopped beating.

"Oh my god! Luke! She is here!"

"Kieran...! Is she alive?!"

"So much blood—! Luke, call Boss! Call Boss here!"

"Boss! We found her!"

"What do we do?! Shit! It's right... in her heart..."

"What!? Boss! S-she is...! Oh lord..."

You had a dream, and it was of your first meeting with Sylus.

Three years ago, in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you were a mere scavenger until he found you. You had thought he was a threat much like others in this lawless city, so you unwittingly showcased your Evol before him in defense, until he pinned you down on the hard ground, crimson eyes holding you in place.

"I'm giving you two options: go with me and live, or die here in vain," he had told you then, a smug smile on his face. "I assure you, so long as you're still useful to me, you won't have to worry about food or roof above your head ever again."

What kind of homeless person would refuse that tempting offer?

Since you followed him, Sylus had never been untrue to his word. He made good of his words, idly engaged you in his circle, showered you with gifts, and at one point—

"You're... trying to tempt me, aren't you?" he growled amidst kisses, pinning you on his desk. Apparently, seeing you up close and personal every day in his home had worn down his patience. He was just a man, after all.

You wickedly giggled, even breathless, cradling both sides of his face and admiring those ruby eyes of his. "What if... I am?"

"Then consider me tempted, little kitten," he chuckled, his baritone voice casting a spell over you. "Remember though, curiosity can kill most cats."

Thus began your thrilling relationship, and you knew you would gladly stay with him just to have a taste of that heaven. And you knew too, he wouldn't cast you easily this way.

And of course, so long as you are useful to him, that is.

When you came to, you felt warm, and your position was so comfortable that you were almost lulled back to sleep.

At first, it didn't register to you where you were. The scene before you was so familiar, but you were so lethargic that you were late to recognize it.

"Awake?"

Sylus' bedroom. The realization dawned on you as that deep, low voice questioned you flatly. You jerked instinctively, looking up at him as he came into view, holding a glass of wine.

He was still the same. Even with you out of commission, he would still indulge himself with his wine. Somehow you couldn't really pinpoint what you should feel about it.

However, Sylus then did the thing you didn't expect him to. He went back to his pantry to get a glass of water, and then he came to your side to prop you up.

"Drink," he commanded, positioning the glass on your chapped lips. You complied and did so, feeling relief for your throat. Once you were finished, he gently laid you back on the bed and tucked you in, never once taking his eyes off you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Have been better," you quipped dryly. Then it dawned on you that he had never been this gentle with you before. He was showing care, which confirmed one theory you had about him: Sylus could be considerate when he chose to be.

The very fact that you ended back here didn't really faze you much, because in the end, you belonged to him out of all people. Just one thing that still didn't make sense in your mind: "What did you do?"

His burgundy eyes squared at you. "What?"

"There’s no way I could've survived that," you mumbled, trying to gauge his reaction. "You must’ve done something."

“Ha, when it comes to these things, you’re sharp,” Sylus said with a light scoff, and you frowned.

"Answer me."

"Aether Core," he supplied. "It was now in you, repairing your coronary system."

"You..." you were rendered speechless. "You—what? You infused my heart with a Protocore...?"

Just like the one in his eye, he had implanted you with that dangerous fragment that was from something as horrific as a Wanderer. The very thought made your breath hitch.

"Stay calm," he commanded, his hand found yours when he noticed your horrified expression, squeezing it as if to provide some sort of reassurance. "You'll be fine."

"H-how... why..."

"That was your only chance, or you would’ve been dead." Sylus' tone was harsher now, his jaw set firmly. "I keep telling you not to rush in carelessly, and yet you did. Did you even know how bad your state was when I found you? No, you didn't."

The way he spoke made you feel as though you were being blamed, and overwhelmed with your frustration, you retorted sharply, "No one asked you to save me."

Awkward silence lingered for a good one minute after your jab. You turned away from him, feeling conflicted, because you knew you should be grateful that he did so, because it meant the Aether Core inside you now was the one he had been looking for in that auction.

He gave it up to save you.

Still, it confused you.

“If I died...” you began, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Then it just means I’m no longer useful to you. You always discard things that no longer serve your purpose.”

You turned back to him, meeting his impassive gaze. “So why? Did you pity me after discovering my feelings? Is that why?”

There are many labels in your relationship. Master and servant. Onychinus leader and his right-hand woman. But you were also his lover, even unsaid. Was that fact that did it? Or a mere charity for the weak, you?

Suddenly, Sylus placed his palm over your chest, right where your heartbeat pulsed. You stiffened, bracing for some sort of impact.

But no, it wasn’t anything sensual like he usually did. His hand—large and warm—was a comforting presence, resting on your chest and feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Haven't I told you that I never act out of pity?" Sylus' voice was strained but softer than usual, his deep burgundy eyes holding yours. "Do you really need me to spell it out?"

You didn't dare to look away, for the moment of truth was right in front of you.

"My only regret is not being able to pull you back," he said quietly, his tone somber. "I shouldn't have let you get hurt."

Oh. You blinked, taking in his sincere words, something inside you softening and warming at his words.

You had noticed it too. Despite his roguish exterior, he had always looked after you during your time together. It was just that you hadn’t dared to hope for more.

“The naughty little kitten has managed to worm her way into me, it seems,” he chuckled then, flashing you that cocky smile. “So now, she has to be held responsible for her actions.”

His red gaze narrowed as he added. “Moreover, since I have saved your life— you owe it to me not to throw it away so easily. So you can’t rush into danger carelessly again, you hear?”

Those playful remarks were enough to dispel your doubts and insecurities. They answered everything you had been questioning, and knowing it, finally you let out a relieved sigh and exasperated snort. “You shameless bastard...”

And when he leaned in to place a fleeting, innocent kiss on your forehead, you realized that, in his own way, he saw you just as you saw him, even if only a little.

Sylus settled into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his arm. Tonight, there were no passionate kisses, no steamy foreplay, or dirty talks— just you being alive and well in his embrace.

“How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks, woman. Luke and Kieran keep mourning you everyday.”

“Three weeks?! How did you manage without me for that long?”

Sylus glanced at you, a contented smile on his face as he held you close. “It’s been horrid.”

Neither of you would be caught dead saying “I love you”, and yet, regardless, you knew that right this moment meant so much more.

[somnoir]

Bats and Phantoms - Part 2

Part 1 | Masterpost

Wraith and Nightwing

OG Schrodinger's: A CRIMELORD IS TRYING TO BE MY SUGAR DADDY

Dandadandan: Tf

Voice of Reason: You've been in Gotham for less than a month and this happens????

Thrice Danned: Why is Danny allowed a cool boyfriend but I'm not ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ

Voice of Reason: No

Dandadandan: No

OG Schrodinger's: LOL ¯⁠\⁠_⁠༼⁠ ⁠•́⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠•̀⁠ ⁠༽⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Thrice Danned: (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

Well, for one thing, the squirthis younger brother was up to his usual bout of trouble. Not that Dan was too worried. At least Danny wasn't getting shot this time.

Traveling out of Amity Park after being simultaneously shoved into a new clone body was disorienting. Sure, the Fentons and Vlad were now pretty okay and he had his new identy and life—but that didn't change the fact that Clockwork was making him do 'community service'. What a load of bull.

What did his new job involve? Occasionally assisting the heroes of their world. Which has led him to Blüdhaven. Jazz's most recent demands was making sure Danny didn't die (or fake his death) in Gotham. But Fenton (and now Masters) luck strikes again and now he's staring at a fight between the city's local vigilante: Nightwing.

He's a pretty thing, that's for sure. Dan might actually get sick of how many times a civilian mentions that man's ass (it was amazing, he knows). But it would be creepy if 'Dante Mastere-Fenton' were to stalk the local hero.

He's got a coffee in hand when he sees Nightwing grapple away, smiling brightly at citizens that waved at him. It was peaceful... If not for the fact that gunshots banged loudly in the streets and Nightwing's line was suddenly cut.

Hero time.

Dan has been a victim to his siblings' commentary on the JL one to many times. He's seen the way Superman scoops up Lois Lane whenever she's made hostage and is dropped from a building.

Nightwing is in his arms seconds later, floating in the air while Dan carries the vigilante bridal style. He offers the obviously surprised man a grin, flashing his fangs.

"I'd ask if it hurt when you fell, but I did catch you in the end."

Dick wasn't expecting to fucking fall. He was usually light on his feet and not just anyone could cut any line that was supplied by Batman. He had prepared to crash, for his bones to break from the fall, but no. His body was pressed against hard and very much sculpted muscle and his eyes blew wide when he saw the man that was surely carved from fucking marble.

The hunk of a man that was surely bigger than Jason had almost fiery hair that reminded him of Kori's, just white. Clearly, he wasn't human. An almost teal tinge to his skin and deep crimson eyes—reallt handsome too. Also, he was flying.

He was being carried the same way Lois Lane was whenever Superman saved her from danger. Damn, was this how she felt? All giddy and kinda aroused excited?

Dick Grayson was not a coward and shoot his shot immediately.

"I'd have to ask what heaven's like since an angel caught me." He grinned, watching as his unknown saviour chuckled.

"I'm no angel, darling. More like a demon."

Teeth... Oh... Fangs.

"So... Can I have my saviour's name?" Dick hummed once the stranger landed in a nearby rooftop. He was... Gentle, kinda. He didn't drop Dick, or whatever, but he did make sure he was on his feet in the concrete roof.

The stranger gave him yet another toothy grin.

("I'm Phantom! I had it first in this world!" Danny argued, immediately flipping Dan off once the subject of their aliases were brought up.

"Then what the hell am I supposed to be called?! CW wants me playing hero for my 'redemption'." There's a mocking tone in his voice before he shudders at the invisible presence of the ancient.

"I have an idea!" Jazz—the only sensible one in the famil—smiled and went to giving him a name.

"How about—")

"Wraith." The stranger—Wraith—chuckled softly and tilted Dick's head a bit. Damn, that man was tall.

A second later, he was gone.

(Later, Dick hijacked the batcomputer to search for any cases that involved 'Wraith')

Part 3 | Masterpost

[5sospenguinqueen]

Little League Karting | George Russell x Reader

Summary: Fighting against Lando's big mouth and fans' speculations, George and Yn somehow managed to keep a special moment hidden from the private eye.

Requested: Yes by anon

Warnings: Pregnancy. Swearing, Fluff. Suggestive comments

2023 season. Pinterest pics

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, alex_albon and others

yn_ln happy anniversary, georgie. here’s to 5 years together. i can’t wait to have at least 50 more with you 

2,992 comments

georgerussell63 happy anniversary, my darling. i’d spend forever with you on that beach 

alex_albon still can’t believe he went on holiday without me

→ landonorris he stopped loving us 5 years ago 

→ georgerussell63 you know you’re always in my heart

→ yn_ln and this is why @/lilymhe and i are running away together 

→ georgerussell63 but, i thought you loved me

user1 another day, another shirtless george pic

mercedesamgf1 the cutest grid couple 

→ landonorris actually that would be me and carlos

→ danielricciardo no it’s me and max

→ yn_ln stop stealing my moment 

charlesleclerc @/georgerussell63 as director of the gpda, i would like you to hear my complaint against your girlfriend posting shirtless pics of you. it has blinded me, thus hindering my ability to drive on sunday

→ yn_ln maybe if you looked at the track more than yourself in the mirror, you would see better

→ charlesleclerc now i’m complaining that she’s hurted my feelings

pierregasly it wouldn’t be a photo dump without shirtless george

user2 so no ring?

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_ln just posted

liked by mercedesamgf1, roscoelovescoco and others

yn_ln my weekend boys

3,850 comments

user3 who’s your favourite

→ yn_ln bono and roscoe 

→ georgerussell63 whoa now. i’ll remember this energy when you want me to stroke your back as you fall asleep

→ mercedesamgf1 toto said he would like to talk to you on thursday

→ yn_ln the boss man knows he has a special place in my heart?

→ mercedesamgf1 the question mark makes that doubtful - toto

lilymhe okay but the fit is serving 

→ yn_ln had to squeeze myself into those jeans. think i need to stop sneaking a macca’s when george isn’t around

→ lilymhe so long as we can keep our cheeky waffle sundays 

→ yn_ln always ;)

→ georgerussell63 excuse me

landonorris fake caption, alex and i aren’t here

→ danielricciardo i think you’ll find i’m her favourite

→ yn_ln my favourite doesn’t race anymore :( 

→ georgerussell63 sweetheart, kimi hasn’t raced for over a year

mercedesamgf1 lewis isn’t happy that you chose the photo that makes him look small

→ yn_ln i haven’t yet mastered photoshop. please pass my condolences to lewis for showing him his actual height 

user4 my favourite thing about yn’s race weekend posts is seeing how hot she looks in her race day fits 

→ user5 yes because she spends fri and sat in Mercedes merch and then SERVES on sundays 

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formula1 have added a new YouTube video

user6 not them still being referred to as 2019 rookies like it’s not their 5th year on the grid 

user7 did anyone catch what alex said at the end that made george and lando laugh?

→ user8 no i swear it was edited so we couldn’t hear 

user9 did you guys see the way alex and george looked at each other? they know something! 

→ user10 and the way lando giggled after like he’d done something wrong

user11 not george trying to save himself by saying she’s always in his heart 

→ user12 if i was yn, i’d be messaging him saying i caught the ick

→ user13 no because even george looked weirded out after saying it

→ user14 lando and alex immediately taking the piss out of him

→ user15 didn’t he say that to alex and lando once?

user16 lando definitely said something he wasn’t supposed to

→ user17 the fear in george and alex’s eyes before they tried to play it off

→ user18 and we can all tell that little league line was bullshit he made up on the spot 

user20 okay so we’re all thinking that one of the grid are having a baby right?

→ user21 the only question is who?

user22 but aside from his brief blunder, the way george spoke about yn in this 

→ user23 honestly my goal in life is to have a love like theirs

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yn_ln just posted

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and others

yn_ln don’t mind me, just showing off my extensive hoodie collection

3,002 comments 

user1 everyone relax, she’s alive

user2 girl, you can’t vanish for 3 months and then show up just to post hoodies?

user3 i love yn but i cannot pretend that this is acceptable. she abandoned us for months and no apology

user4 no babe, we need you back in the paddock serving face and body 

landonorris oi, i’ve given you like five and you can’t be bothered- the audacity 

danielricciardo DR3 dominance, baby! 

carlossainz55 smooth operator

user5 love that she posts a lewis one, not a george one

→ user6 i find it odd. she hasn’t posted him in a while and he’s not liked the post 

→ user7 she only posted it 5 hours ago, give the man time

→ user8 but he’s usually always first and no comment?

charlesleclerc wait, i didn’t realise you were taking options from other drivers. can i add to the collection?

→ yn_ln only if it has ‘just an incident’ on it

maxverstappen1 i’ve got one with giant pockets so you can put all your snacks in it

→ yn_ln ladies and gentleman we have a winner! 

→ alex_albon i can’t believe he won

→ yn_ln yeah well he tempted me with pickles and peanut butter

→ oscarpiastri together?

→ yn_ln is that a judging tone! 

→ oscarpiastri no! please don’t cry again

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user9 um why is this hashtag trending. let’s not speak this into existence

user10 okay some of you calling us crazy but george and yn are one of the more public couples and now we get nothing?

→ user11 i need an interviewer to ask him about her because the way his eyes light up when he talks about her can’t lie to us

→ user12 yes! if the eyes are sad then we know they’re over

albonooo lily asked me to tell you to stop licking the screen

→ lightningmclerc oh so THOSE hormones have kicked in

→ letsgolando they never left, how do you think she ended up in this situation 

→ ynoncrack i am not a horndog! 

→ princessgeorge well…

chili55 please don’t have another child if this is what we have to deal with 

→ ynoncrack have i really been that bad 🥺 george said i haven’t been that hormonal

→ kiksgomes what is wrong with you, carlos! we just got her to stop crying

→ princessgeorge oh no, what’s up, honey?

→ golflils she was upset because your curls looked amazing and she couldn't run her hands through them

→ ynoncrack oh my god, i am a horndog! 

letsgolando all i’m saying, baby russell better be mega adorable after all this

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georgerussell63 and yn_ln just posted

liked by alex_albon, landonorris and others

georgerussel63 baby russell was born happy and healthy two weeks ago. whilst we settle into life as new parents, please enjoy some baby bump pictures to tide you over

10,499 comments

alex_albon i’m so happy for the two of you and can’t wait to meet mini russell

→ lilymhe you’re just glad yn won’t be crying on facetime anymore

→ alex_albon that too 

user1 okay but the hand placement wow

→ user2 we all know how they ended up here then lol

lewishamilton much love to the new parents ❤️

user3 oh so the complete opposite of a breakup then 

user4 hang on a second. so not only was yn pregnant but they've had the baby? parents for real?

user5 how did gossip girl george russell keep this from us

→ user6 especially when he saw us all theorising his breakup

→ georgerussell63 trust me, it was hard

→ yn_ln he wrote a bunch of tweets defending us on a fake account

charles_leclerc congratulations george and yn. i cannot wait to meet the little one

→ alexandrasaintmleux he's already had a bunch of baby ferrari onesies made

→ alex_albon over my dead body will my godbaby wear those!

williamsracing congratulations. what happy news

→ mercedesamgf1 you can’t have him back

→ yn_ln neither of you can have him over the next month. he’s all mine and bean’s

francisca.cgomes free my girl! those boobs belong to me

→ yn_ln always

→ georgerussell63 @/pierregasly please come get your girl. she's trying to steal mine 

→ pierregasly she’s right though. you don’t need to be groping her like that on main

→ georgerussell63 oh no one asked you, “tripod” 

landonorris oh, thank god. took you long enough to tell the world he was here. keeping it to myself these past few months was giving me wrinkles

→ user7 they’ve had a boy!!!

→ landonorris crap

→ alex_albon well done mate

→ landonorris but i did so well! 

→ user8 omg so it was george and yn who were expecting when lando made up that bullshit about little league karting

→ landonorris hey! i want to see their kid in a go kart so it wasn’t a total lie

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Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @leclercsluvs (you mentioned wanting to read this on an ask WEEKS ago and it's taken me forever to write it so i am so sorry!)

[theobsessivesideblog]

Trust Issues

An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.

Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well

————————

He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 

But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 

He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 

“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 

“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”

“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.

You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.

He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 

His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 

“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”

He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 

“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”

“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 

Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 

“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”

“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”

“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”

“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”

His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”

You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.

“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 

His brow furrows in confusion. 

“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”

Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 

“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.

“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”

“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 

“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 

“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”

[wqnsho]

DIFFERENT

lingyang (wuthering waves) x gn! reader

SPOILERS FOR HIS STORY QUEST!

lowercase intended, full of fluff!

lingyang's story quest spoilers, (incase you haven't played it yet)

no dialogue (tried to do something new) hope you enjoy!

ever since stepping foot in jinzhou, lingyang knew who, or rather what he was. he knew he was different from his clients, young or old, he knew he was different from shuncai, who sells his food at his little shop, he knew he was different from his fellow liondance troupe to his master.

he knew it all.

he knew but can he accept it?

can he accept the fact that he is different from everyone he knows? "yes!" lingyang would reply in a heartbeat. his mind fast as light to give an answer while his heart hesitates to even think about it. no matter how many "yes" he would answer to questions like those, his soul would always tell a different story.

while there was nothing wrong with being different, it hurts just as much because he was alone. he had no one to talk to, to relate to his problems of self identity and where he belongs. that was until a person called rover came to his life.

rover...

that's what everyone calls them. while lingyang has his name, rover doesn't recall theirs and this sparked something inside of him. for a moment he did not feel alone, he did not feel different. which is why it was easy for him to open up his past, telling it to the rover without directly mentioning that he was the "jingle monster", that he was a beast, that he was the last suan'ni.

despite everything, the rover was a busy individual. they could'nt possibly be there 24/7 for lingyang since their always helping and fighting people left and right while finding their true self in a world where everyone wants them. that thought alone made lingyang frown. was he even valid for feeling that way knowing someone else has it harder? or was he just a selfish individual?

lingyang sighed the tenth time that night. sitting on top of the many boxes behind the stage with hands crossed over his chest, a troubled look swirled around his face. the crease on his forehead keeps getting bigger and bigger as time passed, so big that he didn't even notice the additional weight on the box he was sitting on.

before, a little nudge used to be enough to get his attention but now it seems like a scream on his ear wouldn't even pull him out of his thoughts. but that was alright, for lingyang, they're willing to wait. even if it meant falling asleep on his shoulder.

minutes passed and still, no lingyang on earth.

another, and another, and another... and another.

that was until he felt his own body moving. his arm tucked underneath his other arm moved without a second thought, catching the person who had fallen off his shoulder. call it his "animal instinct" if you will.

lingyang immediately looked over, curiosity and worry replacing his look of trouble. slowly but surely his worried expression begins to flow out as he releases a somewhat happy and contented smile as if he wasn't in a negative headspace earlier.

he looks at his surroundings before looking at the moon which was directly above them.

a look of surprise immediately took over his face, guilt hurriedly seeping into his veins. just how long did he spend sitting there? was it too long that—

huh...

lingyang looked over again at the person sleeping on his arm and minimal movements, he moved the person in his lap, providing them a comfier place to rest on. he couldn't help but smile and in the lowest voice he could muster he whispered...

[name].

[name], a fellow resonator, one of the outriders in jinzhou, sometimes his "lower half" during performances.

[name], who found him sneaking at the outskirts of jinzhou, who welcomed, showed and toured him around the city on his first day.

[name], who helped him ever since he was new. who was there sleeping on his lap, who stayed with him during his times of trouble. with a look of adoration, lingyang combs his hand through their hair hoping that he could provide comfort as they sleep.

lingyang smiled, as flashbacks of both of them immediately played in his mind. from when he first met them, until now. with one final look at their sleeping face, lingyang looked at the moon above.

thanks to the rover, he finally got the affirmation that he doesn't have to be human or a suan'ni.

but thanks to [name], he was happy that he was different.

because if being different meant being close to one another, lingyang will always love being different.

currently on wuwa grind! feel free to add me^^ mostly active on ASIA server but I do have a SEA one.

anyways, lingyang is so cute! but his dialogue either makes me cringe or laugh 😭

lingyang; sorry you have to see that side of me, rover

[fangdokja]

The man in your apartment knows you better than you know yourself.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Stalker x Fem. Reader

♡ Oneshot. #1

♡ Word Count. 908

The night swallowed the city whole, wrapping it in the kind of darkness that only amplifies your breathing. He had been watching you for hours now, hidden just beyond the edges of your comprehension, a master of shadows and silence. You didn’t know, couldn’t know, but he had memorized the fragile line of your existence—the tremble in your voice when you spoke too quickly, the way your hands fumbled over themselves when you thought no one noticed. You were art in its most raw form: vulnerable, flawed, perfect.

He thought about you every second every single day. You had no idea.

The first time he saw you, it had been accidental. A fleeting moment—your back turned to him, your hair catching the low golden light like the divine threads of some celestial loom. His breath had caught, just for a second, but in that second, his world shattered and reformed around one singular truth: you were his. He didn’t know your name then, but he didn’t need to. A predator never needs to introduce himself to his prey.

Tonight, he stands in your apartment, the silence of your slumber heavy in the air. You don’t hear him, don’t feel his gaze burning into your sleeping form. You’ve sprawled out on the bed like a lamb offered up for slaughter, limbs loose, breath even. He’s been here long enough to memorize the rise and fall of your chest, the vulnerable hollow of your throat, the pulse-point just beneath your jaw. His gloved fingers twitch, aching to reach out, to press down, to claim.

But he won’t—not yet. No, not yet. Anticipation is a wine best aged, and he has patience honed by decades of knowing how to break things.

His own reflection in the mirror catches his eye. He’s huge, monstrous compared to you—broad shoulders, scarred hands, a face carved by the violence of time and regret. He looks like someone who’s torn lives apart, because he has. The juxtaposition is delicious, isn’t it? You, all soft and warm and untouched; him, sharp edges and blackened depths. The lamb and the wolf.

He steps closer, boots silent against the hardwood. Every fiber of his being screams to touch you, but he resists, fists clenching at his sides. The air feels heavier the closer he gets, charged like the moment before a storm breaks. His voice, low and guttural, cuts through the stillness, though it’s barely a whisper.

“You don’t even know, do you?”

You stir faintly in your sleep, a soft sound spilling from your lips. His chest tightens at the noise. He doesn’t want to wake you, not yet, but the idea of you opening those innocent eyes and finding him here, towering over you like the monster in the dark, makes him shudder. Fear looks good on you. He knows it will. He’s dreamt of it.

“You’re so fragile,” he murmurs, the words more for himself than for you. “I could crush you with a hand around your neck, and you’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The knife at his hip is a comforting weight. He doesn’t intend to use it—yet. It’s there as a reminder, a talisman against his own spiraling thoughts. He wants to keep you. He’ll have to hurt you, yes, break you a little to make you fit in his world, but he won’t destroy you. Not entirely. The line between possession and obliteration is thin, razor-thin, and he walks it with a surgeon’s precision.

You shift again, this time closer to waking. A soft noise escapes your throat, and his breath hitches. He steps back into the shadows, watching as your eyes flutter open, unfocused, scanning the darkness. You sit up slowly, the blanket falling from your shoulders. The room feels wrong, doesn’t it? You’re not alone, even if your logical mind is screaming that you are.

“Who’s there?” your voice is hoarse, tinged with fear. He doesn’t answer, of course. Instead, he lets the silence stretch, lets your panic bloom like some exquisite flower. You reach for your phone on the nightstand, but it’s not there. He has it. He’s been reading your texts for weeks, combing through every word for evidence of someone who might take you from him. There’s no one. Not yet. And if there ever is, he’ll handle it.

You’re standing now, edging toward the door, your breath quickening. It’s intoxicating, watching you like this. The fear, the confusion, the dawning realization that something is deeply, irrevocably wrong.

“Why are you running?” his voice comes from the corner of the room, low and smooth and dripping with menace. You freeze, your eyes snapping to the darkness where he stands. You can’t see him, not fully, but you feel him.

“Who are you?” your voice trembles.

He steps forward into the dim light, slow and deliberate, letting you take him in. He sees the fear bloom in your eyes, sees the way your body tenses like a rabbit caught in a snare. It’s beautiful.

“I’m the only one who will ever love you the way you deserve,” he says, voice soft but cold as the grave. “You’ll understand soon enough."

And then he lunges.

[khuzena]

Unsung prayers

Pairing: Aventurine x g/n!reader

Summary: Stop wishing for something you've already lost. You'll make a fool out of yourself. "Don't cry over spilt milk," they said. But why can't Aventurine— no, Kakavasha, why can't he stop crying? It's too hard to let go of you. You two were already about to move on but he's too pathetic to let you go.

Cw. Very angsty, unhealthy rs ehe, smut but it focuses more on like the heartbreak so yeee, I cried writing this goodnight, kinda short because i'm getting burnout from life lol

A/n: I'm sorry for not writing again like I originally promised. Working and studying overtime and things are getting too stressful. I just keep sleeping and playing Wuthering Waves :(

Aventurine is a man who trades dignity for security. He is a man who is willing to go through extreme lengths to prove that he is worthy, to prove that he is useful.

So when you two were still together, he found himself in an odd predicament. Aventurine is a man of his word, whenever he promises to spoil you with riches he doesn’t hold back. He is more than willing to blind you with exotic gems and take you out on dates you’ve never asked for.

He feels as if he has to prove himself that he is useful, that he is your tool to use for your own satisfaction and all he asks of you is a sprinkle of attention to be sure that he’s not useless, to be sure you won’t throw him away and to be sure that he is worthy of your longing gaze.

Yet affection and convenience are two things that rarely work together.

“I won’t,” You state firmly as you lock your eyes into his, “I’m not exposing your secret or your past.”

Aventurine’s voice hitches as he cocked his head to the side. “You think I’m falling for that?” He wants to fall for your words, he wants to believe that maybe you don’t see him as just a commodity or a tool.

As the shadows engulf you again in the dim room again, he wishes you were lying so he doesn’t have to deal with the hurt, “Stop.” You repeat in desperation, “Stop doubting me you dipshit.”

A wry chuckle escaped his lips when you grabbed him by the collar, “Why can’t you understand? I’m not betraying you.” He pleads with the universe that you were lying because the pathetic idea of you taking his secret down the drain hurts him in every way imaginable.

Before he could key in another word, “Stop talking, shut up.” There was a pregnant pause that filled the room before you continued, “I’m not one of your slave traders nor your buyers, I am not your master– I am just your lover.”

”My lover? How sweet.” There’s a flicker of vulnerability that appears in his gaze but he shuts it down, “Who’s to say you won't run to my enemies with my past? It’s too dangerous for you to stay with me.”

Aventurine believes that he’s served his purpose of being your convenient tool, that he can let you go now, that he’s loved you enough and that if he was too selfish to indulge more of you, he’d hurt you.

”Let me show you I won’t.”

He wants to be selfish.

“Eager are we?” His voice cracks. He could barely catch his breath, let alone take yours. His hand trembles ever so slightly at your arrogance that he reaches out to grab your waist.

He has to hold onto something, anything– it has to be something that no longer feels sane for him. That no longer felt solid. Something that could stay without the fear of letting go of again. And he has to let you know despite his walls he built for himself that despite his bravado and outward show, there was nothing about Aventurine that was stable or safe.

“You’re too much.” he stutters. “Stop doing this to me.”

”Stop talking.”

It certainly wasn’t enough to shut the gambler up. Light feathery kisses could suffice. One, two, three– you count with your fingers as you lightly tug on his collar a bit tighter. Four, five, six– he commits murder to himself, he shuts off his brain and kills himself inside so he could no longer feel.

“Stop doubting me goddamnit– Unlike those bastards, You’re not my tool.”

Seven, eight, nine– he’s still feeling, he’s not dead yet and he pleads with the universe– no, he begs mother fenge why. How could you say such a thing with unwavering confidence? How could you promise him something so tangible you could take it away so easily?

"You’re just Kakavasha."

His facade almost slips away but he has a role to play. The musky scent of your perfume drives him insane that he realises all he could think of is you. He’s not dead, he feels alive.

“You can’t just say that.” You could almost hear the bitterness and spite that lingers in his voice, the way his lips curl into a grimace before he swallows it away, “That ‘Kakavasha’ is just a product, a commodity.”

The tension between you two was thick, You know you should run. You have a whole career, a life, a future, to worry about. But something yearns inside you for Kakavasha. You can’t let go of the bastard blonde in front of you– not with the way he held you so gently in his arms even if his words reek with distrust.

“I love you.” He wants to shut his ears off.

He was sitting on the bed as your head fell to his chest. He can’t accept this– he can’t, he can’t. He wants to be selfish, he wants to but he can’t. Not when you caress his face so dearly, “Kakavasha.” And then another desperate sob, “Kakavasha– please, Kakavasha.”

Ten, eleven, twelve– He stills. Even if everything he’s ever wanted was in arm’s reach, he can’t bring himself to indulge and to hope. Thirteen, fourteen— fuck he forgot.

“This is wrong.” He whispers, voice raw, body trembling.

You two shouldn’t be doing this. You two shouldn’t even be thinking of doing this. You two were no longer an item, he thinks, even as he pulls you in closer. ‘We shouldn’t be like this’.

But it feels right, it feels so fucking right and everything else confirms that. The way your fingertips slowly snake down his trousers and how your breaths mingled together.

”Please,” He doesn’t want you to say it, don’t say it– “Kakavasha.”

He never wanted to ever hear his name again, everytime he did he pleaded with the universe to tear off his ears. He wants to sob because the only thing about ‘Kakavasha’ and the only thing he remembers of that shitty name of his was just a man who’s a Failure and an Abandoned slave.

“Kakavasha,” But when you call his name like that, he is not the pathetic leftover of the Avgins; he’s not the Kakavasha who is a Failure and an Abandoned slave.

He stays silent. He wishes that the universe turned him blind for his eyes to never lock with yours, for his senses to go paralyzed, numb– just so he can’t feel you.

“Let me love you.” You beg, reaching out for his left hand before he instinctively swatted your hand away. “Stop it.” His voice is choked, cracking, like his vision with tears. “You–“

Why is this so hard?

How could you call him like his name was something sacred– something worth worshipping. When his name rolls out of your tongue, it sounds like a prayer.

“Stop saying my name.” Aventurine’s hand shakes when you intertwine yours with his.

And with pleading eyes, you understand.

’Let’s not talk, let’s just not talk. Just feel.’

He wanted to scream when he felt your breath tickling his neck, your lips were dangerously close to his barcode, the trademark ‘Slave’ on his skin salient but you wanted to kiss him. He doesn’t want to talk so you don’t.

“I love you.” You beg for permission, your lips grazing softly on that mark of his. “Please?”

The atmosphere is suffocating– he’s drowning and asphyxiating at the same time and he could barely make out your words, he can barely– too much, too much. There’s nothing sexual, nothing intimate yet but this feels more romantic and real than anyone he’s ever fucked before.

“Please.”

He can’t respond, he doesn’t nod, he doesn’t know what to do. He knows how to act and love as Aventurine but he doesn’t know how to be normal. He doesn’t know how to be Kakavasha when he is Kakavasha.

“Is that a yes?” He tenses when your lips latch onto that burned mark on his neck.

“Just do it.” He croaks, One word– so simple yet so heavy. “I can’t say yes,” He’s grabbing your hand so tightly, so hard. “Not with words.”

He lets you, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, letting his eyes shut for a moment as your lips latch onto his scarred neck. His muscles tense, his heart pounding, his breath catching in his throat.

But his tears flow anyway, even if he wishes they wouldn’t. Even if he knows that it’s shameful.

”Don't cry,” stop, stop. You cupped his cheek gently, “Don’t cry, Kakavasha.”

Tears continue to drip while both your hands work on his shirt.

“You’re so…” You trail off. One button off, then another. “Beautiful”

Beautiful. That word was stuck with him all throughout his miserable years as a slave. He can hear his investors whisper among themselves, ‘Handsome’, ‘Beautiful’, and ‘Lucky’. There is nothing pretty about his blood stained hands. There's nothing beautiful of his wretched heart that only weeps for mercy. There’s nothing lucky about him because his life was only a gamble that he was bound to lose.

”Stop, stop–“ he begs, but he can never truly push you away, “I love you so much.”

The final button was unbuttoned as you helped him off his blouse, kissing his skin softly while making sure no part of him was left untouched.

His mind keeps racing whenever your voice echoes in his head, ‘Beautiful’, Beautiful? Kakavasha has never known beauty. Not when his childhood was marred by cruelty and violence, his early adulthood plagued by loneliness and regret.

“Can I?” A stifled moan escapes Aventurine when you hold him in your arms. “Should we have a safeword?”

Generally, it would be him asking, it would be him taking the lead. It feels wrong but oh god does it feel so right.

“Yes,” he whispers thickly, hips bucking into your hand, “Yes.”

He could only think of you, only you. His words are interrupted by a groan, a low, heavy sound in his throat. It hurts, but this– this feels right. Too gentle, so kind.

Too kind for him, probably.

“Sand.” He confirms.

The night continues, the scent of sex lingers for hours and he feels sick.

He wants to forget but he can’t. Not when you ride him for hours. Not when you put his comfort above yours. Not when he felt alive just by being in your presence.

Your voice still echoes in his head, “How’re you feeling? A-are you close?”

He could still feel your lips pressing onto his skin as he traced against the kiss marks.

”Y-yes, it’s– yes, Fuck–“ Kakavasha’s ears rings loudly whenever he hears himself, his voice cracks as he felt himself close to cumming inside you, every inch of him shaking and trembling like a shaken bottle of Soulglad, his mind filled with thoughs of you, with your taste, your scent and everything about you. You’re all he wants. You’re the only thing he’d ever want in this shitty life of his, just you, just you.

”Green light.” He begs Goddess Gaithra Triclops to save him, to relieve him of this pain.

His unsung prayers to his goddess were gone as only your name escapes his throat when he remembers the way you gently squeezed his hips as he moaned out.

“God– Kakavasha…”

Your tears pitter-patter against his chest as he shut his eyes close, “Let go of yourself for me, Kakavasha.”

And when he does let go, he wakes up to the scent of your perfume.

His bedside table with your ring waving at him. The promise ring he went through heaven and hell to get for you.

You were gone. You kept your promise to take his secret to the grave but you were still gone.

His head was in his hands as sobs wrecked his throat. God no, he's still fucking Aventurine, he stares into the mirror and he can't see Kakavasha.

He calls out your name like a prayer, this time, you do not respond.

Note: ain't proofread so pls do not attack me 😞😞😞 I'm gonna try to write more fics but m just so stress rn 😭😭

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[munsonbrackets]

Astarion x undying male reader (2)

I rewrote it! I like this one more than the other one, hopefully you all enjoy ver. 2 as well!

TW: angst, graphic(ish) depitctions, SPOILERS FOR ASTARION'S STORY

You and Astarion walk down the steps. The steps that are gonna decide the fate of him forevermore. 

Who lives, who dies.

At the end of the stairs, Cazador starts his speech. The rehearsed words fall into crumbling deafening sentences, leaving you silent as Astarion speaks up for himself.

“You son of a bitch.” Astarion sneers and leaps towards starting the fight against his former master himself. You do not manage to grab him.

Before anyone can even register what’s happened, Astarion is sent to his spot. His spot, his place in the ritual, it glows and shimmers as if to mock and disturb you. Which it does.

Cazador stares at you, the contained rage flittering across his expression. Next thing you feel is his closeness to yourself, the heat running from your throat. His claws had dug and slashed and you feel the burning, red hot, blood draws down and in, suffocating and heating and dizzying. You fall to the floor, the liquid leaving you, leaves you feeling restless, but so fucking tired.

The rest of your party startle in for the fight ahead as you lay useless, suffocating on your own blood. The next thing you see is your own blood forming around you, your eyes blacking out. It never stops hurting.

And as you wake, your companions are struggling, fighting against the plentyfull of foes that you so cruelly left them fighting alone. 

Your hand pushes your head off the floor first, no one has yet to notice the sudden life stuttering its way through your body. But the desperation never leaves your head. How long?! You scream, but no words leave you. Your mouth dry and parched, the words catching on the cut that is struck across your throat.

As you look up you realize that Cazador is at his last step. The last part, a mere handful of seconds left. You push yourself off the ground, your legs carry you faster than your newly living lungs can keep up with, but you catch him.

You catch Cazador as you leap towards the edge, a bone crushing grip settled around his ribs. You drag him to whatever pit of hell awaits under his sick idea of a ritualistic battleground that he had built to ascend.

To become great.

To take away Astarion.

The descent towards the floor of the pit goes by in seconds, but Cazador is scratching and pushing, biting and attempting to flee. You will not let him. Your keen ears hear his body connect with the ground a mere millisecond before yours does. A mere fraction of a moment, that you use to hope. Hope that this stopped the ritual, that Astarion is safe.

And once more everything is black.

You cannot help but wonder if they tried to pay Withers. To bring you back. What he said, what they discussed, would they try to get your body? Put themselves on the line for your unanimated corpse?

You were perhaps nothing more than a splotch on the ground, but you still thought. You were thinking. You are thinking.

Your eyes open with the same voracity as the breath you take in. No longer a splotch, no longer a pile of mess. You were in your own body again. In your own body, with heat. Heat pouring from your beating heart, pumping the blood and startling your limbs to reset. Your tears start and you sob. You wretch every gasp of air through your body as you lay at the bottom of a seemingly endless pit.

And as your brittle bones register the muscles surrounding them, they realize they are not so brittle after all. They are living. Moving, constricting, cramping, releasing. They tense as you push yourself to sit up.

Seemingly endless vastness peers down at you from the great beyond that you see when you look up. Climb, no think, just climb, no look around. Your head and heart scream, striking your ears with a piercing pitch. 

You look around first, no one just makes a ditch. It has to have a purpose. Your aching legs agree to push you up, the all too familiar burn spreading through your body. The burn that you have labeled ‘The experience of one more life’, the feeling of living. Again.

You trudge insecurely across the unstable floor that you cannot see in the complete darkness. Your eyes only adjust enough to see your own nose, you’ve learnt that your eyes wake up last, probably due to the separate immune system awakening to the…situation?

You put your hands up, stumbling into a wall, following it, finding an arch. A doorway, probably. And stairs. Stairs. Inside the doorway. You crawl up, making sure that one hand follows the edge, your other leads you. Slowly. 

As you get nearer to the top, your body no longer burns from life, but from exhaustion. Step by step, you near the dim light of the ritualistic battlefield that you fell from. Dead silence.

Your heart once more burns as you realize that you left your companions to fight, you forced a hand that Cazador couldn’t have dealt. You never even felt what should have been Cazador’s splotch on the ground that you awoke on, nothing sticky, icky or gooey. The light finally shows you your hands, which are covered in nothing but dust and dirt of some kind.

The far top reveals that you just climbed a tower, the bridge that would have led directly to Cazador’s ritual is completely broken. But your companions might need help, they might not have lived like you always seemed to. They might need you to pay Withers. Bring them back. Your legs brace themselves for the jump towards the center. You should have jumped further, you realize, as your chest collides with jutted bricks, your breath cascaded out as your nails dig into any crevice they can get hold of. A single slip and you start over. 

You refuse. You clamber up the edge, sitting right behind what would have been Astarion’s circle. No ashes, no bones, he must be alright. A quick glance tells you that no bones here are mildly human. You push your legs forward once more, stand up. Walk over past Cazador’s empty tomb, his distraught body slowly succumbing to the laws of nature. But not gone.

You stomp over his skull, then you pause, then you repeat. Again and again and again, the heat of rage spreads through you. Fuck this place, fuck Cazador, fuck this ritual. 

Your head thumps as you look towards the stairs leading up, leading out. The steps are tenfold worse than from the tower, the adrenaline gone, the rush faded, even the anger disappeared as quickly as it entered. 

The top of the stairs is adorned by voices, whispers almost. Then only the silence broken by your tired steps on the staircase. You practically drag your body the rest of the way. Another doorway, leading to…people.

People with swords pointed at you, bows drawn, daggers at the ready. The monster hunters stand ready, their weapons drawn. The center of them, just in front of the elevator that leads out. Astarion. Beautiful, kind, Astarion.

Astarion who pushes past the hunters in front of him, Astarion who runs to you, Astarion who leaps into your arms. Your legs barely brace for his body's impact, before they give in and the two of you collapse onto your knees, the hard floor doing nothing for the pain that shoots through your body.

Gorgeous Astarion who sobs into your embrace as you hold him. The tears stream down your own cheeks, the command for everyone to stand down is given. Astarion pulls away, peels himself away from you. The lack of him makes you feel cold.

“You-” Astarion sneers, “I saw you! What did y-”

He doesn’t manage to finish his sentence as the tears cascade over his angry expression and he sends a flurry of weak punches into you. A sob wracks through his body.

“Cazador knew you! You know he knew you.”

You realize Astarion’s eyes are not filled with anger directed at you, but himself. He remembers you. He remembers handing you to Cazador.

“I forgive you, Astarion. I would throw myself off an edge to save you a million times over.” You mutter back, your hands finding the sides of his face. You bring his face to yours, plant a sweet kiss on him. You pull away and plant Astarion’s forehead against you. His hands hold yours, still on his face.

“You’re that invulnerable boy. I’m so sorry.” Astarion mutters through more gasps and sobs.

“I forgive you, I forgave you a long time ago, before ever meeting you again. You’re my everything, Astarion. I wouldn’t change a thing about the past if it meant I would never meet you again.” You tumble out, the saltiness of your tears entering your mouth as your words stumble. 

You fall into each other's embrace again, a silent promise. Truth goes both ways. But not now. Now is reserved for this.

[yanderes-galore]

Concept: romantic yandere Mahito with a Jujutsu sorcerer darling, since I feel like Mahito has the potential to be a TERRIFYING yandere.

I AGREE WITH THIS, He would be ruthless with a Sorcerer Darling due to his nature.

Yandere! Mahito with Jujutsu Sorcerer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Sadism, Manipulation, Stalking mentioned, Violence, Blood, Violence, Murder, Slight delusional behavior, Forced relationship.

Mahito would definitely mess with a darling who is a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

Normally he makes weaker humans his toys, like Junpei.

Although Mahito is aware of the moral code sorcerers have.

Which means he could mess with you a lot more.

After all, you aim to protect the weak, don't you?

Mahito alone is a terrifying yandere to deal with.

He loves to mess with humans and is a master manipulator.

He's sadistic and would show that towards you in this concept.

He is fully aware of how much you want to protect others.

So he'll use it against you.

This thing with Mahito is this...

It doesn't matter how he gets your attention, any attention is good attention.

Mahito would thrive over your attention, even if you hated his guts.

In fact, he encourages that.

He's a curse born from human hate, you hating him just makes him giddy.

If only you understood the irony.

So really, Mahito would win no matter what you do.

He's capable of emotional manipulation to a scary degree.

He takes joy in putting you through difficult situations if it means he could break you and take your attention.

Obviously he's cruel and childish, playing with you like a toy whenever he meets you in the field.

Even more so if he recognizes what his obsession is.

Love.

Honestly, his whole obsession is ironic.

He's a being born of hate and loves to make you hate him while also loving you.

It's all something he wants to experiment and play with, like a curious and immature child.

He definitely falls into the whole "bullying because he likes you" thing.

Truthfully, he loves all of your emotions.

When he watches you from afar he can't seem to get enough of them.

You hate him, but he sees you so affectionate towards other people.

He does like your smiles, even if they aren't directed towards him.

But even your glares towards him are adorable.

He thrives on every emotion you have.

He even can't help but fawn over you in battle, too.

You could actively be trying to exorcize him and he'd love it.

Until he realizes you can hurt him, at least.

He'd even learn your techniques just to see your reaction when he uses them against you.

Mahito loves to tease and mess with your head.

With a Jujutsu Sorcerer I feel he wouldn't mind slaughtering civilians if it meant he'd catch your attention.

He'd look so happy when you arrive, all covered in blood and a devilish grin.

As said before, any attention is good attention for him.

He doesn't expect you to love him, especially not in the way he does you.

Yet he doesn't care.

Your hate is just as intense as his love for you, which is enough in his eyes.

He feeds into your hate by killing the weak, and you feed into his love by hating him.

This is the dynamic between you, two polarizing opinions of one another.

He'd never want to kill you, you're far too interesting for that end.

No, he wants to toy with you for as long as he lives.

That's what his obsession and twisted love is.

He loves to make you suffer and hate him.

This way, he always has your attention.

You don't hate anyone more than him.

Your affection for others doesn't even rival the hate you have for him.

In his eyes, this is love.

Love and hate between you two is nearly indistinguishable in his eyes.

He may not be ready to die quite yet, but having his existence ended by your hands may not be so bad... all because he thinks it would be the perfect way to conclude his obsession.

"I love it when you hate me...! Come on, fight me more! Show me how much you hate me!"

[xxsycamore]

JOYRIDE

╰┈➤ 💕MC has always dreamed about Arthur taking her for a drive, almost as much as Arthur himself has. But once the opportunity arises, they both seem to be having other ideas...

Arthur Conan Doyle x MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Car Sex; Modern Era; Public Sex; pretty sure they're breaking at least a few moral AND actual laws in this; Kissing; Not Wearing Underwear; Teasing; Clothed Sex; Riding; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Come Swallowing • wordcount: 2,241 • masterlist

a/n: Also titled "Arthur driving (me insane)". I love his card, I'm sorry.

Part of my Sexy Ikemen Summer Creation Challenge. Prompts: In the car while traveling + Forgo underwear on the date

"Soo… what do we think?"

MC crosses her legs, angling herself just a little more in Arthur's direction so she won't miss all the intriguing little changes happening on his face. He's just finished spending a handful of seconds being stunned speechless, admiring the car's outer appearance before joining her inside. He places his hands on the steering wheel to get a better feeling of it, marine blue eyes sparkling with the wonder of a child receiving a shiny new toy on Christmas morning. They don't lose their spark one bit when landing on MC, head shaking in disbelief.

"Luv, you're absolutely bonkers. What did you do?"

She chuckles, smoothing out the front of her skirt that has ridden up just a bit from the motion of crossing her legs. It's actually a good sign that Arthur has just missed that, he must truly be captivated by her little surprise.

"I rented it! I know how much you love to drive and… I always thought it was such a shame that we're living in such an early age of car manufacturing. But now that we can freely travel through the door, I can finally help you go for a drive just like you remember it! Well, not exactly how you remember it, but…"

The MGA convertible they're currently seated in is a 1957 model, meaning it came out a couple of decades after his death, but practically is the closest thing available to his beloved dark green 16-horse-power Dietrich-Lorraine. MC even found one in the same color. Arthur's cheeks must be hurting by now but the grin is yet to fall from his face. He's busy checking out everything on the dashboard, testing buttons and adjusting the rearview mirror.

"A modern masterpiece! By Jove, how unbelievable it is that I'm going to drive this thing! MC, dear, I— Come here."

Rejuvenated by the taste of "modernity", Arthur grabs the back of MC's head to pull her in for a kiss charged with utter joy, excitement, and lots of thankfulness, of course. She's happy to catch the master of the pen being out of words, burning this sight into her memory. Actually, that's exactly what she bought a camera for. Click! Arthur, now back to his business, doesn't even register the sealing of the memory, probably due to the absence of the flash. It only makes the capture more natural-looking, and MC is satisfied with that.

"MC, thank you so much. I'm such a lucky man. And you terribly outdid yourself, you little rascal!"

Putting away the camera somewhere just close enough for some more on-the-spot memories to be sealed, MC leans in and puts a peck on Arthur's cheek, feeling her own sides beginning to heat up.

"Don't thank me just yet, wait until we get that baby on the road! I did promise you a surprise for your birthday that would come a little later in the summer, on our next trip to the 21st century… I'm cheating a little by indulging in your joy here, you know? Because of how I've always dreamed of you taking me for a drive like this, hehe…"

It would be interesting to show Arthur what a truly modern automobile looks like, but she figured that would be too much of a headache for him just yet. Besides, she prefers it if he can actually drive the thing without it ending in a crash.

It's illegal either way, and they're both aware of that, with Arthur not possessing any documents, but it's a risk they're willing to take. And Comte totally didn't tell them not to worry about that, in a very cryptic fashion. But just to make sure, they opt for a rural highway once they pull off, and make it a point to stay extra alert.

"You know what else I'm thinking about?"

Feeling the wind in her hair, MC's soft hum of interest comes a bit tardy as she's too occupied by their cruising. This only results in her slightly jumping in her seat the moment a delicate warm hand snakes its way to her exposed knee.

"Fooling around in a car with you."

She takes her eyes off the road to instead regard the audacity of that devious hand, her widened eyes then trailing to the culprit behind the steering wheel. And his shit-eating grin.

"Arthur…"

Heartbeat speeding up as his fingerpads dip under her skirt and dig into the inside of her thigh, MC can't help pressing her legs together to trap his hand in between. It's the far opposite of what she'd liked her reaction to be, with such a reckless distraction… Oh, but Arthur's own eyes are on the road, and he prides himself in being able to please a woman even with his eyes closed, and the bubbles of adrenaline pop and fuzz low in her belly and morph into something more tangible and liquid…

"Would you look at that, luv? A dirt road I could easily go onto and find a good place to pull off. Or we can drive by it and keep chit-chatting, it's entirely your call. But do make up your mind quickly!"

Alarms go off in MC's mind as she struggles to come out of the daze, and it's hard when Arthur's implication only puts her deeper in there. Just how did their scenic drive come to this?

"Pull off."

Arthur drums the wheel with his other hand, visibly pleased with her decision. In another minute the car's engine goes quiet and the world inside MC's head only gets louder, as she's being pulled into Arthur's lap.

Albeit cramped, the luxurious interior of the car makes it possible for such acrobatics, much to MC's surprise, as the leather front seat is wide and not disjointed like in modern cars. Her knees sink down on each side of Arthur as he begins feeling her up - grabbing handfuls of her ass and making her skirt hike up, then following the dips of her sides up to her breasts and bringing them in closer to his face. He's at the perfect height to bury his face in her bosom, yet the vampire in him always gets more distracted by her delectable nape. He licks a wet stripe across it, feeling the call of her blood pulse alluringly under the wet muscle. But they wouldn't want to make too much mess now, would they?

"Still up for a ride, dove?"

Arthur rocks MC's body down on his groin and puts a barely needed emphasis on what his offer entails. The soft whine that leaves her lips is like music to Arthur's ears, and he already wants to make her sing for him more. That's why he loses little time leaving those tantalizing caresses where the skin isn't burning to the touch with need, and his hand ends up fully under her skirt, cupping her hot arousal.

And to his surprise, there's no barrier separating his touch from her core.

"My, someone planned this? I can't believe you tricked me into thinking all you wanted was an innocent little drive!"

She knew this moment would come, yet now all her comebacks are forgotten with only a guilty little laugh leaving her curled-up lips. While seducing him so boldly was on the list for their date, she was thinking more of some nice and secluded spot for this to happen, preferably away from the vehicle…

MC grinds down on his palm, even if the morsel of pleasure quickly leaves her starving for more. She could get off of his lap, demand they put the roof on, push him down on the seat, do anything that will ease this feeling of committing the forbidden, laced with plenty of embarrassment on top. But alas, thrill prevails.

"Nnh… Take me now Arthur, don't waste any time…!"

Ignoring the inevitable teasing little "oh?" coming from her boyfriend, MC reaches underneath her to undo Arthur's belt. She likes his outfit for their date, grey trousers and a brown leaf-print shirt, a pair of sunglasses tucked casually in the crux of his undone upper three buttons. MC briefly considers moving them out of harm's way, to his handsome face for instance, but then his beautiful eyes would be obscured, and that'd be such a shame…

Arthur's own hands intrude to get the job done even faster, and once his cock springs out aching and throbbing, he guides her soft fingers to wrap around it.

He's quick to claim her lips as soon as her face is in close proximity, angled down to look at the growing hardness she's stoking, and the sweetness of her mouth only enhances the sensation but he can't not kiss her breathless. MC moans in his mouth, the clenching of her core becoming more agonizing with the promise of what's to come making itself known hot and heavy in her tight fist.

"Do you want to put it in yourself, little bird?"

Oh, she sees now. Arthur is making her embrace the act completely, to finish what she's started until he can come out clean in the end… It's more than a little unfair at this point. But perhaps this is not such a bad thing.

Letting go of Arthur's hot mouth with a last little suckle of his tongue, MC pins down his gaze as she secures a hand on his shoulder, ascending from her seat ever so slightly.

After an adjustment of her position, the tip of his cock comes to rest snuggly against her swollen lips and MC sways her hips softly. She uses her hand to guide it in, or at least pretends to, because as soon as the head begins to breach the leaking hole of her opening, MC pulls it out again.

"Mm…Naughty girl… don't tease now. Be nice."

Instead of falling for his husky whispering and quickly complying, MC keeps her act on. The next time she catches Arthur's gaze, his eyes are half-lidded and the cheekiness is wiped off his face.

His quiet hiss of anticipation motivates MC and she gets a little bit ahead of herself - because that's just what Arthur has waited for, and he uses the opportunity of the new shallow penetration to grab her by the waist and press down. Slowly but insistingly.

"Ahhh—Arthur-"

They both watch his cock disappear inside her, with MC throwing her head back once he bottoms out. Arthur groans at the tightness enveloping him, kissing her exposed neck.

"See? It was easy. Don't deny your desires, luv." His little noisy pecks should be calming her senses down but the fire inside her has only spread further. She figures it's about time for her to take the reins, and using Arthur's shoulders for leverage, she begins bouncing in his lap, settling an ambitious pace right away.

Arthur rests his arm on the door, admiring her as the expression on her face grows lewder by the second, struggling to keep up with the explosive waves of pleasure hitting her one after another yet still stubbornly fucking herself on his cock.

"Haah- So fast… You're going to make me come, luv."

The sudden squeezing he feels around his cock makes a brand new grin bloom on Arthur's face, and he's quick to move his other hand downwards and see if she can keep going when he doubles the pleasure. MC all but screams at the feeling of his fingers rubbing her clit in rhythm with her own thrusts, unable to do anything but to embrace the orgasm that rips through her like lightning.

Arthurs coos at her blissed-out face, even if he's barely holding himself back from joining her in the climax. Only when she falls completely out of rhythm does he take it upon himself to seize control, but just as he opens his mouth to warn of his upcoming orgasm MC unexpectedly gets completely off of him.

Arthur's deep-sea blue eyes follow her movements until her head suddenly descends and hovers over his twitching cock, her mouth opening to take him in. He can do little but remain where he is as she coaxes a powerful orgasm out of him with ease, her plush lips closing around his tip and enthusiastically sucking the seeping currents as they come one by one.

The moan that carries her name is etching itself into her very heart, with just a little spark of arousal to it that she can ignore for the time being. Arthur places his hand gently under her chin, but he can't help himself prodding at her bottom lip with his thumb just for a glimpse of the fluids coating her tongue.

She sticks it out for him but as a mockery more than anything, to accompany the cheekiness of laying her head across his lap - everything already swallowed and gone. Arthur props up his head on his arm with his elbow still resting on the door of the car, and the summer day's heat has made a sweaty mess of the hairlocks falling on his forehead. MC gets a good look at his handsome face from her new point of view, nuzzling into his hand that is still caressing her face. For some reason, they're both feeling giddy.

"So then luv, if we're done being a pair of horny teenagers, should we continue with our little joyride?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, we haven't paused for a bit!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @justpeachyteastea @ichigostellaglynn Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[lightasthesun]

Imagine surviving the war only to lose most of the people closest to you.

The Woman that once upon a time held your heart in her hands.

The Girl that you loved like a daughter and whose death would ultimately lead to you losing your only brother.

•

In this universe, the river of time flows differently. Each step, each choice, and each poignant moment in its stream drift slightly off course.

It starts like this:

When Ahsoka and Bo-Katan ask the Jedi Order for aid in freeing Mandalore from Darth Maul's grasp and finally putting an end to the former Sith's reign, Obi-Wan does not ignore their call for help. Satine's ghost still haunts his nightmares, and it's the look on her sister's face, along with the redheads snarling accusations and Ahsoka's distant demeanor, that cause his typically composed exterior to splinter.

Through the cracks in his shields, a presence slips in – wild and tumultuous, yet practically radiant in its brilliance.

Days, months, weeks and even years later Obi-Wan will wish he'd taken a little longer to cradle her presence close.

It ends like this:

Anakin with Windu on the Invisible Hand. A incapacitated Sith in custody and another, more vile, more cunning, more sinister, choosing the wrong moment to reveal himself. A twist of fate. A long lost friend showing signs of old loyalty. Lightning. Screams. Hurt and Betrayal. The Chosen One as he was meant to be without terrors of the night influencing his most damning decision. Red clashing with purple, with blue. Red, blue, purple, blue, red, purple— A head rolls. The cackling stops.

For a moment, Peace.

A bond, frail at the edges but oh so resilient, crafted amidst blaster fire and silly nicknames and bets made on the battlefield, breaks—

Anakin screams.

•

On Mandalore the last chess piece falls with a Padawans last sacrifice.

First, Maul taunts. Maul laughs. Maul feeds on rage, on grief and hurt and terror, terror, terror. He's stronger here. Less controlled too, but while his greed costs him his head, his strength costs Obi-Wan the centerpiece of his lineage.

Obi-Wan holds his daughter as she bleeds out in his arms. His shoulders shake but he does not cry. His eyes burn but he does not weep. His lips twitch but he does not sob. He holds Ahsoka much the same way he held Satine only months before.

“No, not you too.”

Something flickers inside his mind, once, twice. It grows ever dimmer and Ahsoka's grip on his shoulder, ever weaker. A feeble voice inside his mind, It's okay. It doesn't hurt. I'll be okay, Master.

But this time no reassurance, no hand to his cheek, no last confession, nothing, will temper the anger slowly rising in tandem with his grief. He needs a medic. He needs a medic, now. Where's —

Cody!

Obi-Wan doesn't like the expression on the face of his slowly approaching Commander. The furrow of his brow, the emotion in his eyes. He doesn't like that Cody has taken off his helmet and reaches out to hold Obi-Wan by his shoulder as if he knows Obi-Wan needs the physical support, as if Ahsoka is going to —

“Master—”

Obi-Wan turns his eyes back on his Grandpadawan. Hers are barely open, her lips smeared with blood. Obi-Wans eyes catch on the red trailing down her chin and the length of her throat.

Ahsoka catches his eyes and smiles. She tugs on their bond the way she had always done before a battle, up until her last assignment on Caito Neimodia.

She tugs once, twice, three times. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He tugs back three times.

He does cry then. For the life she will never have. For the peace she will never experience. For the war she fought and whose final victory she will never reap. For the girl he learned to love as his own.

And even in her last moment, even in pain, even after Hurt and Miscommunication, and Betrayal born out of insecurity and misjudgment, she still worries for others first. For him.

You're safe. You're all sa—

He shushes her. Tired amusement tingles across their bond.

Then,

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

You are forgiven, Obi-Wan.

Exhale. The light winks out and as their bond shatters his last remaining one pulls tight with white hot agony.

Cody is all that keeps Obi-Wan upright right then and there.

•

The war is over. They won. So many dead. His lineage torn asunder.

Ahsoka is dead. Anakin won't speak to him. Qui-Gon is dead. Dooku is imprisoned.

Here the river of time finds a stream parallel to the one we know.

Obi-Wan and Yoda at the end of things.

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

Skilled Hands (Obey Me!) fic

content: Solomon X reader. NSFW. Established relationship, romance, fluff, mature subject of sexual intimacy and making love.

Solomon was doing this on purpose. He had to be doing this on purpose. Using those sculpted hands to gesture and trace over what the two of you were working on. Solomon had insisted that both of you should focus on your magic studies today. Which you did want to work on as his apprentice. Yet you found everything he was doing completely distracting. Watching as he spoke of tending to magic tools or writing spell scrolls or such. Wanting him to be using those lips to kiss you instead of ramble. Wanting those hands against your skin instead of tinkering with various equipment. Wishing to scent his musk instead of potion ingredients and old paper.

After three hours of this slow and aggravating torture, you broke. Solomon ended up turning after setting his tools down to find you right in front of him. Tears in the corner of your eyes for him to frown in concern. So you took both his hands and leaned in for a kiss. One that was demanding and hungry. Which had Solomon chuckle into for you to part for air. His smirk one of coy amusement. "My my. It would seem you were quite distracted. Yet you held out for this long? What a considerate apprentice you are. But a very naughty student." Solomon leaned close to whisper in your ear. "Should I make you beg of me to worship you in all the ways I know? Or might I let you ravage me senseless to be left stripped and vulnerable to my beloved soul? Either way, the choice is yours."

You gave a full shudder to grip Solomon's hands tight. Those tears falling as you admitted you couldn't make up your mind out of pure overload. It hurt to have so much want and need that you gave a sniffle of noise. So Solomon gave you gentle kisses and soft touches to your face to coax you all the closer. His fingers did their work with effortless and tender care. Stripping you of your coverings as magic soaked the room. Locking doors and windows to alight the room with small colorful flames that hung in the air. Solomon whispered in Greek against your lips to soon have both of you naked. Those hands soon resting against your heart for him to purr in sheer delight. "Such thunder. Such molten heat. Honor me with your love and make us one."

Solomon spent the entire time the two of you made love smiling. His words and touches tickling your skin as you did much the same. Tasting and teasing to deepen the dance of this blissful union. The passing thought of how long Solomon has had to master this art of love soon tumbling away as he washed joy and pleasure over you and through you. Kissing away what tears fell when you got overstimulated to switch things to ensure your delight. The both of you open in all vulnerability in the age old song of loving and making love. Until the both of you lay in his bed to be covered in sweat. Solomon letting you use him for a snuggle pillow to be trying to catch his breath. Your head to his heart to savor how that drumming was full of strength and life. The pace racing and heated as Solomon started to laugh. His hands soon reaching up to cradle you close to that thunder in his caged ribs for him to keep laughing. "Ah. So this is what father meant when he wrote of love for my mother. Yes. Something I will savor for eons to come. My beloved apprentice. You leave me spellbound."

The former king soon lifts you up to place a few kisses to your face. His joy having him trill a happy sound before he speaks. "Methinks we might use a specific spell to craft a heated tub of water and some other things to get cleaned up in here. Wouldn't want the angels to smite us for having such revelry."

[ginxyy]

Tethered to the Temporary

I’m drowning in the deepest truths fuck, i think I’m falling for you

You walk into the dimly lit café, the familiar smell of roasted coffee beans and baked goods wrapping around you like a thin blanket on a chilly evening. Your heart flutters, a wild creature trapped in your chest, as you scan the room for a glimpse of him. Jun is a storm urgent, electric, and yet beyond your grasp. In the corners of your mind, the layers of your heartache start unfurling like petals on a wilting flower.

This is how it always begins, each time you cross that threshold into his world, the world where you exist mainly in the quiet spaces between your shared moments. The way he smiles at you, genuine and teasing, sets you alight and leaves you longing for more. And each time, just as you start to gather the courage to hope, the darkness seeps in, rippling through the laughter you share, reminding you of the thin line you tread between desire and despair.

You and Jun have become masters at this dance—two bodies circling around a truth neither of you dares to touch. Your ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement has morphed into something murkier, the lines of intimacy blurring with each heated kiss, each frantic embrace that leaves you both gasping for breath as if the world outside ceases to exist. You know the game, even as you find yourself so deeply enmeshed in it. He uses you, and still, you surrender willingly, craving the ache that follows. You tell yourself it’s nothing but hunger an insatiable appetite for his touch, his laughter, his fleeting moments when he lets his guard down, revealing a vulnerable side so rarely seen.

But fading joy shoots through you like a dagger each time the dawn breaks, severing the dreams you dared to weave in the threads of night. The cycle has become unbearably familiar: he arrives late, his breath carrying the scent of whiskey and expensive cologne, eyes sparkling like stars but tainted with something darker, something that tells you he’s not entirely yours. For all the intimacy shared behind closed doors, the truth remains that you are a fleeting thrill to him: something to chase after, to consume, before hurting alone in the quiet aftermath.

Yet, you can’t help it. You catch yourself daydreaming about what it might be like to hear him whisper the words you so desperately crave to hear him say, "I love you"—even as the shadows loom around the edges of your reality. You pretend the world stretches out into forever, defying the ticking clock, pushing against the inevitability of mornings that come too soon.

Your heart aches with each fleeting glance. The nights bleed into whimpers, lost in the haze of tangled sheets and lingering warmth. You lie next to him, eyes open, wondering if he can feel the weight of your love tethered to the core of your soul. But instead, he lays oblivious, his presence a gentle crash instead of an anchor. Silent phone notifications mock your vulnerability as you scroll through the countless times you've hoped for just a single message from him beyond what you've shared. The uninhibited passion is almost palpable, yet the conversation remains simple, superficial filling the void without touching the depth of what lurks beneath.

You try to convince yourself that the closeness you share is real that the long, lazy afternoons leaning against one another, the shared secrets and laughter will someday manifest into something complete, something pure. But with every lay, every hesitant caress, the truth stings like the sharp edge of glass, slicing through your delusions with unrelenting precision. The truth is, you're drowning in the depths of an unreciprocated love, shackled by your own choices, swimming against the tide.

And then one fateful night, your world shatters with a single, haunting revelation. The two of you are sprawled across the dim living room floor, legs tangled and bodies untouched by the weight of daylight. Liquor sways through your veins a suffocating warmth, causing your heart to race as you gaze into Jun’s eyes. He’s watching you with a strange intensity, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might finally understand. Your chest rises and falls in shaky breaths, the air in the room charged with unvoiced feelings, a tension building just as the heavy clouds gather for a storm.

Then, the moment passes, and he reaches for you, pulling you closer, shadows sliding back into their corners. The warmth of his skin against yours fuels the suffocating fire; you sink deeper into him, losing yourself in his touch. But just as you think you could get lost in this moment, his phone buzzes with a message you dare not read. It’s a reminder that someone else waits on the edges of this entangled mess, waiting for normalcy, waiting to claim a part of him, fragments of a life you can’t fathom.

When he eventually answers the call, it’s not with a hint of regret or tenderness, but with a casual ease that twists the knife deeper into the wound you hadn’t even realized was festering. You slip into the shadows, fading from his vision, yet lingering in the ambient glow of his presence, a bittersweet ache blossoming in your chest. A toxic symbiosis the grip of his hand pulling you closer, while the thread of uncertainty leaves you dangling.

And so, you sit there, reading the words you would give anything to hear from his lips, yet instead feeling the weight of unrequited love pressing down on your soul like a heavy blanket. You want to scream. To shake him and make him see the extent of your feelings, the way the mere thought of losing him petrifies you. Yet you remain silent, trapped in this toxic carousel of desire hopelessly in love while he continues to use you as a fleeting distraction against his own inner storms.

In the realization, you understand one truth you are drowning in the deepest truths, and all the while, you think you’re falling for him, even as he consumes you little by little. You’re tangled in a connection that leaves only sorrow as a residue, and yet you can’t help but crave that fleeting taste of him, every stolen moment, every burning brush of his lips against yours. And there you linger, at the edge of chaos, suspended between wanting him and knowing he’ll never truly belong to you.

[bigfan-fanfic]

A Captive Jedi (Luke Skywalker x Bounty Hunter!Reader)

Requested by @capturingthecountryside for Luke Skywalker captured after return of the jedi

To be quite fair, you never truly planned to give Luke to the Empire.

But now that there is no Empire to give him to, Luke is truly confused as to why you're standing before him.

He's in his black robes, on some remote planet. "You?"

"Didn't I tell you I'd catch you, Master Jedi?" you smirk at him as he ignites his lightsaber.

"What are you doing here? The Empire has fallen." Luke says softly, tilting his head at you.

"True enough. I would be a little worried about the splinter factions growing up - they are NOT happy with you."

"So you've been hired by them?"

"Oh, no. This was just to prove I could capture you. I'm a hunter. No bounty necessary."

"You haven't caught me yet."

"Well, then... let us begin."

Luke strikes with his saber, intending to disarm you, but he's surprised when you don't shoot your blaster at him. Instead, you lift a strange bar to block his saber - and it shorts out.

The knowledge of cortosis ore was suppressed somewhat by the Empire - its ability to temporarily short out a lightsaber the main thing erased.

His eyes widen in surprise as you send his lightsaber skittering away with a blow to his wrist.

And then you shove another gadget into his chest. It expands, and with a hydraulic hiss, sends pitons shooting into the ground around him, shining tethers winding around his limbs and attaching to the pitons.

Luke falls to his knees from the force of the pull, and you walk over and quickly lock a Force-suppressing collar on his neck.

The tethers multiply, drawing his shoulders down, folding him nearly in half, with his knees under him.

You can't help but smirk down at him as he struggles uselessly, and he growls up at you.

"Calm and peace, Master Jedi. Isn't that your Way?" you chuckle.

"Why are you doing this, then? What reward do you get?"

"You, my friend. You must know that you're a prize worth its own effort."

He raises an eyebrow. Then smirks. "I wasn't aware that... that you thought so highly of me."

You shift some of the tethers, drawing his arms behind his back. You draw some thick cord from your supplies, and you quickly make a loop around his biceps, drawing them as close together behind him as possible before tightening up the space between them, and you make successive loops down his arms.

He grunts with the strain as you secure his wrists tightly. "So... what is your plan with me?"

"You're my prize, Master Jedi."

"My name is Luke."

"Luke. You're my prize."

He smirks, surprising you, as you shove him forward and begin binding his legs. "And would it hurt you if I said I'd go with you willingly?"

You pause for a moment. He recognizes this.

"And why would you do that?"

"Because I can feel you through the Force. And you're... fascinating. You're not going to give me to anyone, and you're going to let me go when you're done, if only to hunt me again."

You secure his legs tightly together with cord, binding his thighs, above and below his knees, and his ankles. Luke winces as you fold his legs, pushing the heels of his thick-soled boots against his rear and secure them to his thighs so he can't unbend them.

"So... you are consenting to this." you say, grabbing his bound wrists and pulling them back to tie them tightly to his ankles, bending his whole body into a strict bow shape.

"I can feel you. I've never felt such... curiosity, such passion, all directed at me. I submit myself to your examination. But be warned... I am a Jedi, and the moment you falter, you will instead be mine."

You smirk. "Very well, Master Jedi. I accept this wager."

He opens his mouth to respond, and you cram a bar between his teeth. It expands, unfolds, forming a muzzle over the lower half of his face and silencing his voice to strangled little muffled groans.

You laugh at his surprised eyes and pick him up, hearing a muffled groan as it strains his limbs.

It's time to have fun with your prize.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Click My Heels But I Am Stuck Here - Chapter Five

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Work Summary:

Rolan is battered, beaten and exhausted. After everything he’s been through to get to Baldur’s Gate, he still has no reprieve from violence and prejudice.

But wouldn’t it just be so sweet to fuck his master’s pretty little wife?

AU where Tav is Lorroakan’s wife.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3276

Read on AO3.

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Notes:

warnings for infidelity, smut, further mentions of abusive relationships and marital rape

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Tav’s lips were softer than he’d even imagined. Her breath tasted of mint and her hair smelt like rose petals. It took all of Rolan’s willpower not to put his arms around her and pull her in closer.

With a firm but gentle hand on her cheek, he pushed her away. She blinked up at him. Her big, dark eyes were bloodshot and puffy, like she’d been crying. He wanted more than anything to kiss away her pain.

“Tav,” he said, his voice so husky that he hardly recognised it. “We can’t.”

“I know.” She sounded on the verge of tears. Mindful of his sharp nails, he swiped the pad of his thumb under her eye, catching a tear as it fell. “I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

He let out a startled laugh. “I deserve better?”

“I’m putting you in danger.” She started to draw back from him, but his treacherous hands reached for her, tangling up in her nightdress and keeping her close to him

“I don’t care about that,” he said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Well, I care.” She looked up at him, a stubborn jut to her jaw. He had no idea how her eyes could look so bright and yet so sad. He felt his resolve crumbling.

This time, it was Rolan who closed the distance between them. As his lips brushed hers, her arms wrapped around his neck again, drawing him in. They stayed like that for a long moment, clinging to each other.

When they finally pulled back, Tav giggled nervously. “What happened to ‘we can’t’?”

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “It’s hard to make sensible choices when you’re looking at me like that.”

“Maybe we’ve both been being sensible for too long.” Her thumb came up to trace to shell of his ear, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Maybe I don’t want to think about the consequences for a little while.”

And then her mouth was on his neck. He stumbled back into the bookcase behind him, gripping onto a shelf for support. She was pressed so firmly against him that he was sure she could feel him hardening under his robes. He would’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t so turned on.

“You know, Lorroakan has never made me cum,” she said suddenly, and Rolan felt like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. “I usually wait for him to fall asleep and then finish myself off.”

“Tav,” said Rolan, trying to figure out how to even out his breathing before he gave himself a heart attack.

“You can’t imagine the number of times I’ve thought about killing him,” she breathed. “Every time he hurts me, I wonder if tonight is the night I drive a dagger between his ribs. Or maybe I’d poison his food. Asphyxiate him while he sleeps. I’ve thought about a thousand ways to do it.”

“Barely a day goes by when I don’t think about choking him to death with my bare hands,” said Rolan. “And I know I could do it. I could overpower him easily.”

Tav shivered, and for a moment he was afraid that he’d frightened her, but then he saw the look of lust in her eyes. She was picturing it, and she liked it.

“So why don’t you?”

“Why don’t you? You’ve been stuck with him for longer.”

“Because there’s no way I’d get away with it. Lorroakan has his fingers in too many pies. I’d just be trading one prison for another.”

Rolan nodded. “I feel the same. Upstart tiefling murders his master? I’d be lucky not to be executed.”

“As much as I’d love to see you hurt him, I don’t want you putting yourself in danger.” She sighed a little, disappointed. “But who cares about him? I want to talk about you.”

“Yeah?” Rolan’s heart was beating hard enough that he was sure she could hear it.

“Sometimes I think about you when I touch myself. I’d wonder what you were hiding under all these robes.” Her hands slid down his chest. “Are you going to let me see?”

“Shall we go to my room?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Myshka was asleep on Rolan’s bed when they arrived. Tav scooped up the cat and gave him a kiss on the forehead, ignoring his protesting meows.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she cooed to him, “you’re going to have to find somewhere else to sleep for now. But I’ll give you extra fish later for being such a good boy.”

Embarrassingly, although he knew she wasn’t talking to him, Rolan felt his dick twitch at the words ‘good boy’.

Tav set Myshka down, ushered him out of the room and then shut the door behind him. Rolan put his hand on her lower back and she turned to face him.

“Where’s Lorroakan?” he asked.

“Sleeping. He always sleeps like the dead after he fucks me. I guess I must have a magic pussy.”

Rolan stomach turned, caught between anger at the thought of Lorroakan touching Tav, and arousal at the thought of her ‘magic pussy’. In that moment, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone.   

He knew the jealousy he felt was ridiculous. Tav was Lorroakan’s wife. But the idea of his hands on her made Rolan feel sick.

He shook his head, trying to push thoughts of his master out of his mind. Lorroakan didn’t deserve her. He’d never made her feel good the way Rolan was about to. Rolan wanted to fuck her so good that she forgot she was even married.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. He felt a spark of pride at the way she melted against him. A soft moan escaped her lips, and then she tensed. She was holding back. Rolan didn’t want her to.

“Hold on,” he said, and then he turned back to the door. He was loath to stop touching her, but he needed both hands to cast Arcane Lock on the door. Once he was satisfied that the door was secure, he turned to her again. “I have an idea.” He guided her over to the mattress and gestured for her to sit.

As soon as she was comfortable, he went to the drawer where he kept his scrolls and began rifling through them.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“This.” He held up a scroll.

Tav leant back on her elbows, watching him. Her eyebrows were raised and a hint of a smile was playing at her lips.

Rolan said the incantation, and the area around the bed shimmered for a moment.

“What was that?” asked Tav.

Rolan grinned at her, feeling a little cocky now that the scroll had worked. He undid his robes and let them fall to the ground. Then he did the same with his shirt. Normally, he was much more careful about folding his clothes, but watching Tav’s eyes rove appreciatively over his body, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Zone of Silence,” he said, and her eyebrows shot up. It was a bardic spell, so he wasn’t surprised that she’d heard of it. He knelt down before her, his hands finding hers. “We have about an hour to make as much noise as we want. Lay down.”

She did as he said, her head falling back against the pillows. Her long, dark curls spread out beneath her on the pillow. As he looked down on her, he knew this was a view he could get used to.

He swung one leg over her so that he was straddling her and then kissed her again.

“If I’m going to make up for all those orgasms that Lorroakan denied you of…” he murmured, shifting down to kiss her neck instead. “I don’t want you to hold anything back. I want to hear you scream.”

“Rolan,” she whimpered, her hands sliding over his bare shoulders. Her skin was cool against his.

His hand came up to rest on her knee, before skimming up the outside of her thigh until it reached the hem of her nightdress.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, and she nodded effusively, lifting her arms so that he could slide it off over her head.

She wasn’t wearing any underwear. There was a soft thatch of dark curls between her thighs that Rolan wanted to touch. Her breasts were round and plump like the sweetest forbidden fruit, with dark pink nipples that hardened under his gaze.

He put his hands on her waist, marvelling at how big they looked next to her petite form. The thought made him almost dizzy.

Tav, for her part, was gazing up at him, lips parted as she breathed heavily. He watched her chest rise and fall, entranced.

“Rolan?”

“Yes?” Her voice had broken him out of the daze.

“Are you going to touch me?”

His cock was now straining against the confines of his trousers, but he ignored it for the time being.

“Now, now, darling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her breast. “Don’t be greedy.”

Part of him wanted to fuck her right now, feel her body wrapped around him, but knowing how Lorroakan treated her, he wanted to give her what she deserved, and what she deserved was someone who took their time to make her feel good.

He slid down between her parted legs, kneeling on the floor. She was watching him with wide, expectant eyes as he hooked one of her knees over his shoulder, spreading her apart for him.

When his tongue found the sweet nectar between her thighs, he felt her body startle, her fingers gripping his sheets hard.

He pulled back. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” she said, fast enough to draw a chuckle from him.

“Then let me take care of you, angel.”

Her eyes were wide as she watched him dive between her legs again. He was sure he’d never be able to say no to her as long as she looked at him like that.

Her taste was intoxicating. Even more so was the way she shuddered and moaned when he tongued at her clit. He had barely gotten started and she was already a dripping mess.

He had known for a long time now that Lorroakan was a fool, but nothing hammered the point home for Rolan as much as this: he’d had the most beautiful woman in the world in his bed for the last five years and he’d never once even tried to pleasure her.

“Rolan,” said Tav, her hands fisting into the sheets again. He grabbed the nearest one and guided it up to his horn. “Really?” she asked, breathless.

“Yes. Please.”

She wrapped her hand around the horn, and Rolan’s eyes fell closed instinctively. Her hands were soft, and when her little finger rubbed against the sensitive skin around the base, he thought he was about to cum in his pants.

He let her guide him where she wanted, his tongue hot and persistent against her clit, and when she came, her grip on his horn was almost painful, but Rolan couldn’t deny that he liked it.

He held her, tongue still gently sweeping over her most sensitive areas, as she came down from her high.

“Rolan…” she whimpered, using her grip on his horn to pull him away. She lay there, panting, her hair a mess on the pillow beneath her. His thumb smoothed soothing circles into her knee as he let her catch her breath. “That was- It’s never felt like that before.”

He didn’t respond, instead moving to kiss her thighs. As he drew closer to her pussy, fully intending to make her cry out his name again, she stopped him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Rolan, I… I want to see you,” she said shyly. “All of you.”

He had to admit that this was something he’d been a little nervous about. His infernal features had been the source of much mockery and abuse his entire life. What if she was disgusted by him? He was sure she’d be kind about it, but the idea of her being fucked by another man who she was repulsed by made him sick.

Trying not to think too hard, he stood up, unbuttoning his trousers. Tav’s eyes followed him as he undressed fully. They honed in on his cock immediately, and with a hint of pride, he saw her jaw drop.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, catching him off guard.

“I’m…” He trailed off as she got up onto her knees and knelt in front of him. “Tav, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” she interrupted. “Can I touch you?”

Speechless, he nodded. She wrapped one hand around his cock, and his eyes fluttered closed.

So many times, he’d pictured her in this exact position. Now she was here, it was nothing like he imagined. It was so much better.

Before he’d really gotten to know her, he had desired her of course, but part of him wanted to punish her. He’d thought she was vapid and spoilt and he was envious of the way Lorroakan treated her.

Now he knew he couldn’t have been more wrong. Tav was just better at hiding her bruises than he was. He hoped that he’d have more opportunities to treat her better than her husband ever had.

“Can I ask you something?” Tav’s voice brought him out of his reverie. She had one hand jerking his cock, the other lightly touching his hip.

“Of course.”

“Can I touch your tail? I’m sorry if that’s weird to ask.”

Rolan shook his head. “Not weird. You can touch it.” 

She reached out and wrapped a hand around the middle of his tail. She rubbed it gently, feeling the strange texture of the skin. As her fingers crept closer to the base, he let out an involuntary moan.

“Does that feel good?” she asked.

“It’s sensitive around the base. Particularly the underside.”

She hummed curiously, sliding her fingertips down until they were pressed under the base of his tail. His cock twitched in her hand. His eyes fluttered closed.

A moment later, he felt a soft, wet heat around the head of his cock. His thighs were trembling now. Her thumbnail was scratching along the most sensitive part of his tail and her mouth was taking his cock deeper, and he realised if he didn’t stop her, he was going to cum in her mouth.

“Wait- Tav-”

She pulled back, but pressed her face against his cock. From this angle, his cock was almost long enough to span the entire height of her face.

She giggled. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not going to last very long if you keep doing that.”

“What’s so bad about that?”

“I want you. All of you.”

Tav seemed to take his meaning. She lay back down on the mattress, spreading her legs for him. “Come and get me then.”

When he slipped the head of his cock inside her, she let out a gasp.

“Are you alright?” he asked, kissing her neck.

“Yes. It’s just… big.”

Rolan had a hard enough time keeping his ego in check as it was, but with a beautiful woman beneath him, moaning his name and talking about how big his cock was, he didn’t stand a chance.

Tav hooked a leg over his hip and pulled him in a little deeper. He sank down, laying kisses along her collarbone, satisfied to let her set the pace.

“Feels so good,” she murmured. One of her hands touched his horn again, fingertips squeezing at the base. Rolan whimpered. “Please move. I need you.”

Ever willing to do whatever it was she asked, he grabbed her arse with one hand, and began to thrust shallowly into her.

Her body opened up to him, letting him move deeper with each thrust. She was spread out under him, the infernal ridges of his cock hitting her in places she probably didn’t even know existed.

“Harder, please,” she panted, and he happily obliged, feeling the way her body was trembling around him. She was close.

He hitched her leg up higher over his hip and thrust deeper, and that was what pushed her over the edge. She clenched around him, fingernails digging into his back, his name a mantra on her lips.

After that performance, it was hard for him to hold himself back. He pulled out, letting his cum splatter on her stomach rather than inside her. Rolan took a few steadying breaths. She looked even more beautiful like this.

“Rolan?”

He looked up at her and was horrified to see tears in her eyes. He’d hurt her. He’d taken advantage. She’d never actually wanted this.

She must’ve seen the fear in his eyes because she shook her head. “Will you hold me?”

“Of course.”

She rolled onto her side and he lay down beside her, one arm around her waist. Her hair was blocking his view, so he gently scooped it out of the way and rested his chin on her shoulder.

He could feel her deep breathing, which was occasionally interrupted by a hiccupping sob.

“Tav, are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

“It’s not you,” she said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… scared. Scared of what Lorroakan would do if he found out.”

“He won’t find out. And even if he did, I would never let him lay a hand on you. I’d kill him before I let that happen.”

“I’m not just worried about him hurting me. I’m worried about him hurting you. He’d kill you.”

“He can try,” Rolan scoffed, but he knew deep down that she was right. The two of them had no power here.

“I should probably go…” Tav’s voice was small. “I need to bathe before I go back to bed with Lorroakan. I can’t have him noticing…”

Despite this, she made no move to leave. On the contrary, she leant back into Rolan’s arms.

“Okay,” he said, because he wasn’t sure what else he could say.

“I don’t want to leave. I’ve never…” Her breath hitched, trying to stifle another sob. “No one has ever held me after sex before. I think maybe I need this.”

He tightened his hold on her waist. “I’m so sorry that no one has ever treated you the way you deserve before.” He kissed her shoulder.

She laughed wetly. “Thank you for being kind to me, Rolan. It means everything.”

They stayed like that for a while, with her in his arms. Rolan had to admit that he missed the touch of another person. Tav’s body was warm and she smelt good and he really, really wished that she could stay.

When his eyelids started to become heavy, Tav gently disentangled herself from him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, kissing his lips again.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just kissed her and squeezed her hands. He walked her to the door and gave her one last kiss before he opened it for her.

As soon as the door opened, Myshka darted in, making a beeline for the bed. Tav giggled at that. Rolan loved the way she laughed. He wished he had the chance to hear her laugh more.

“Goodnight, Rolan,” she said.

“Goodnight, Tav.”

And then he was alone. He lay back down on his bed, his heart feeling very heavy. Myshka, perhaps sensing this, curled up on his chest and nuzzled into his neck. Embarrassingly, Rolan felt himself begin to cry.

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